#and played with various bands and his friends were like. famous to people in the music industry but not celebrity famous if that makes sens

[ghosts-of-love]

dads really do just love to drop random lore on you, don't they? tell me how I made it 25 years without knowing he went to a nightclub with Andrew Ridgeley from Wham.

[banj0possum]

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

[marvelmaniac715]

The Lords in Black and Webby as content creators (they’re still siblings and they perhaps all lived in one Content House):

Wiggly:

Wiggly is your standard Big YouTuber - think Pewdiepie or MrBeast without the philanthropy. He’s gotten into feuds with EVERYONE and is highly controversial, his fans are mostly Dude Bros who excuse his actions because “Wiggly’s based, dude”. Nobody can quite figure out how he got so popular but any attempts to get his accounts deleted were stopped in their tracks by his loyal fans. He plays a lot of video games.

Pokey:

He’s a cover artist who has a Rachel Berry sized ego. He thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread, and is actually better than that because bread can’t sing. He’s been booked as the opening act for a few bands so that inflated his god complex, but really he’s semi-average at best, the guy with a guitar at a party who’ll say “Anyway, here’s Wonder Wall”. He doesn’t have as many fans because although he’s proud of his voice he doesn’t like being seen, so he always has an avatar on screen to sing through (see what I did there?) alas, he is quite the elusive figure and he’s only ‘famous’ because of his family.

Tinky:

He’s the wacky, zany challenge guy who tries to break world records or play pranks on his siblings, he’s done at least twenty “Calling _blank_ at 3 am” videos and a lot of them are centred around FNAF. He also posts conspiracy theories and has been cancelled numerous times for stalking smaller YouTubers such as the Alpha Male influencer Ted Spankoffski. He’s rarely featured in his family’s videos for many reasons.

Blinky:

Blinky is a commentary YouTuber who reacts to various movies and tv shows. He’s famous in his own right because he picks up on small details in what he watches and is scarily good at figuring out where the plot is going - his viewers have an ongoing challenge amongst themselves to try and make him watch something that he can’t work out the ending of, but they haven’t been successful yet. Overall Blinky is pretty chill, he doesn’t get into controversies and he’s decent enough to anyone he interacts with - he’s genuinely nice to his fans and is a bit confused as to why his videos blew up.

Nibbly:

A Mukbang YouTuber as well as a chef and beauty influencer (on the side). He is just the sweetest ray of sunshine, with his signature bright smile and sign-off of “Remember, friends, spread kindness throughout the world, because we deserve more smiles!” He’s overlooked by his brothers when it comes to making content but he doesn’t mind; people are drawn to his enthusiasm and he’s one of the most popular brothers alongside Blinky because of the chill vibes he emanates - he’s the only one who’ll collaborate with Webby.

Webby:

Webby was kicked out of the Content House in disgrace when she spoke out against Wiggly’s cruel behaviour. She mostly dances but she also does song covers and fashion videos - a lot of her fans see her as an older sister because her videos are very informal, like you’re talking to your best friend over the phone. She also raises awareness for social issues and has launched several successful fundraising campaigns to help as many people as possible. Some people call her the Guardian Angel of YouTube.

[whogirl2011]

So last Saturday at my work was wild. I got to speak to Sloane Siegel from Dwight in shining armor / Gotham knights.

So there was a signing event for the voice actors from Gotham Knights in California last weekend. I posted it in a discord with my friends that I played Gotham Knights with. Since Gotham Knights came out in 2022 and all of these people are constantly busy now doing their own things and working on various projects, I was sure this was going to be a rare occurance. And with this event being in California and me living across the pond in Scotland now, I was kinda bummed.

What I didn't know at the time was one of my friends from that group that lived in Cali was trying to figure out if he could make it down there.

He did, but didn't know if he could until really last minute.

I got a message from him later saying he'd found the comic store they were doing the signing at but it was still super early and the place wasn't open yet.

Later that evening at work when I had gotten everything ready for us closing for the night I checked my phone and noticed I had gotten a missed call over discord.

You know when you have little things going wrong all day and they just pile up? This was that day. So when i got a call from my friend I was expecting he was calling to tell me something along the lines of he couldn't get the signatures. I called him back, expecting to hear just that.

He asked me if i was free and I said I had a few spare minutes. He told me he mentioned me to them while he got the signatures and the VA's all knew me from either me posting and rooting for them on all their work they were doing along with some of them even liking pics of my plushies I show off that I make 😱

What I had not expected was him to keep me on hold because he was going to give the phone to Sloane so I could talk to him!

My friend had asked Sloane if he knew someone that followed him on insta by the name of whogirl and he did. He told him he was there on my behalf since I was in Scotland. When my friend told him he had me on the phone and asked if he wanted to talk to me he was like: " I would absolutely love to talk to her." 💀💀💀

Then when he took his phone he instantly said "So THIS is the famous whogirl." 💀💀💀 Guys when I say Sloane Siegel is insanely sweet, it's an understatement. He answered questions and we had a lovely conversation about projects he's got in the works along with me living in Scotland. I told him Dwight in shining armor was my comfort show and I thanked him for that character and he told me it was a comfort show of his too 🥺🥺. He wished me a good rest of my day and my shift at work and hoped that he wasn't getting me into too much trouble since i was at work. (He wasn't, luckily my manager understood because when do you get a chance to talk to an actor on the phone?)

It definitely made my day. The month of March is rough for me for many reasons so this was definitely something that made this month so much better and definitely gave me a boost.

If anyone reading this is a fan of his like I am, please support his stuff. He voiced Robin / Tim Drake in the game Gotham Knights. He's in an independant band called ICYDAY making music with a fellow actor and friend David Bloom that was with him in gortimmer gibbons and another mutual friend named Isaac. Their music is on spotify and most streaming platforms now and at this time they have 3 songs out. He's currently working on a comic that's been in development for the last few years and I am really looking forward to seeing more of his writing. You can also watch episodes of Dwight in shining armor either on BYUTV for free in the US or across here in the UK on BBC I Player. He's also acted in various shows and movies you can find on IMDB.

I look forward to getting my signed item from all these amazing people in the mail and will update when I get it. But for now, here's a pic of the four from the event from the event organizer's insta.

[spicykaraage]

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Kanata Irie

[PROFILE]

Birthday: December 7th (Sagittarius)

Blood Type: A

Relatives: Father, Mother, Older Sister, Younger Sister

Father’s Occupation: Beautician

Middle School: Maikozaka Junior High School (graduate)

High School: Unknown

Grade: Third Year

Committee: Student Council (Vice President)

Strong Subjects: Modern Literature, Ethics

Weak Subjects: Tube Language

U-17 Training Camp Position & Rank: Second String | Court 3 ➜ Second String | Court 5 ➜ First String | No.20

World Cup Team: U-17 World Cup Japanese Representatives

Favorite Motto: “A man without passion can neither be good nor evil.”

Hobbies: Music (tenor saxophone) ➜ Playing the tenor saxophone, observing people (reactions and responses to situations) [23.5]

Favorite Color: Ecru

Favorite Book: Acting study books

Favorite Food: Chocolate chip cookies, cream puffs

Favorite Anniversary: The day he was invited to the U-17 Training Camp

Preferred Type: A person who can honestly surprise him

Ideal Date Spot: A concert hall

His Gift for a Special Person: “I’ll give you a smile from the heart.”

Where He Wants to Travel: Stratford-upon-Avon

What He Wants Most Right Now: Jazz concert tickets ➜ Tickets to the Imperial Theatre [23.5]

Dislikes: Perceptive people (since they see through his acts), girls who are people pleasers

Skills Outside of Tennis: Can carry four full plates at once, playing the saxophone, baking bread [23.5]

Routine During the World Cup: Greeting his fellow representatives in the morning

[DATA]

Height: 165cm

Weight: 55kg

Dominant Arm: Left

Vision: (With glasses) 1.0 Left & Right

Play Style: All-Rounder

Signature Moves: Underhanded Acting

Favorite Brands:

Racket: BRIDGESTONE C-SNIPE3.0

Shoes: K.SWISS SPEEDSTAR TENNIS

Overall Rating: Speed: 6 / Power: 1 / Stamina: 2 / Mental: 7 / Technique: 6 / Total: 22

Kurobe Memo: “It is fascinating to watch his games as he sets them up as if it were a play. However, with his current balance, there’s a limit to how many opponents he can beat. He especially needs to work on his physical strength.”

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Locker at the U-17 Training Camp:

A book on acting methods // He reads it and applies the methods to his tennis. He reads various authors, whether famous or obscure

Spare glasses

Jazz CD // A Miles Davis CD. He’ll listen to it before bed or while relaxing and also uses it as a reference for his saxophone

Sheet music

What’s in His Travel Bag:

A ticket to a jazz concert

[TRIVIA]

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 7 | Publication Date: 07/04/2011

He works part-time as a waiter at the training camp

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 8 | Publication Date: 08/04/2011

There is a girl he liked whom he met at one of his part-time jobs who also played the saxophone. They are still good friends to this day

The Prince of Tennis II 10.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 09/04/2013

To improve his acting, he watches and studies DVDs of various plays everyday

Due to him being very skilled at playing the saxophone, his school’s brass band club requests him for support

His play style developed from him coming from a wealthy family and lying to his parents in order to receive their attention

His true personality is unknown

The Prince of Tennis II 23.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 05/02/2018

He has worked part-time at more than ten different restaurants. From cafes to Chinese restaurants, even at a fine dining establishment owned by the Atobe Corporation. He’s stated they were all good lessons for acting

In Golden Age 232 during the “Spy Mission”, Irie pretends to cry over losing his contact lens. He then “finds” it, but it’s revealed he never wears contact lenses

People have a hard time sleeping at night due to him playing his saxophone at that time

The Prince of Tennis 20th Anniversary Book: Tenipuri Party | Publication Date: 08/02/2019

His ideal relationship is one that is exciting and stimulating while being devoted

Although he is notorious for lying, his hair and glasses are real. The only time he lies is when he’s putting on his acting performances

He, Oni and Tokugawa spend their vacations together. The previous summer, they had went camping together and discussed their thoughts and feelings over the World Cup around a campfire

One of His Off Days at the Training Camp:

7:00am - Wakes up, is in a daze for a while

7:30am - Breakfast (French toast with whipped cream)

8:00am - Bakes bread, watches dramas during the fermentation

12:00pm - Lunch, Atobe declines to sit with him

1:00pm - Voluntary training, practices serves

3:00pm - Has tea with Kaji, Amane and Yuuta, eats cookies and macarons

4:00pm - Goes shopping at the shopping district

6:30pm - Dinner, has pancakes while observing people

8:00pm - Gives the manjuu he bought from his hometown to Tokugawa

9:30pm - Has some kind of meeting with Oni

10:30pm - Leaves the premises with his saxophone

12:00am - Bathes, then goes to bed

[brettyimages]

Suede in Gothenburg:

Arrived at the festival just after it opened, met up with Scandi Insatiable friends and began the long wait in the tent. Luckily it was set up with benches for the orchestra so we had a comfy place to sit and eat and wait. The Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra did 90 minutes with various guest singers (famous in Sweden but the only one I knew of was Jose Gonzalez) which was nice but not the main event. As they took their bows we swarmed the barrier and I got a spot near the end of the catwalk, facing side-on towards Neil.

Finally it got to 21:30 and the band came on to TOYBAY - leading me to suspect we were getting a set like the UK tour. I was wrong though as they launched into She, Trash, Animal Nitrate and kept the hits going. From there on it was almost entirely singles, with the exception of By The Sea and Personality Disorder, which meant rare outings for some of the hits that don't make it into the regular UK set like Filmstar and Everything Will Flow.

Brett went for his usual leap off of the stage for The Drowners but unable to go into the crowd, he prowled around the barrier, grabbing hold of my hand towards the end of verse 1 and keeping it for a precious few seconds. His usual mic cable wrangler wasn't in attendance so he had some trouble getting round to the other side.

He started making use of the catwalk at the end of We Are The Pigs, the stamping of his feet reverberating off the hollow floor, then followed up with a lie-down for a stunning By The Sea.

Following Everything Will Flow and Can't Get Enough I was worried that they weren't going to play the song I was hoping for, but then Neil was handed an acoustic guitar and Brett said we were staying in 1999 and he gave his Wild Ones speech about music bringing people together before settling on She's In Fashion. The Suede song that's been with me for the longest and one of the singles that has evaded me at live sets back home where they never play it. It was lovely, magical, a big check off of the wishlist.

So Young, Metal Mickey and Beautiful Ones signalled the end and I assumed there was to be no encore - there were no songs left! - but the lights stayed down and they reappeared to play Saturday Night. Brett strolled back down the catwalk and faced my direction to sing "sat there in a black chair, office furniture" to me. I didn't have an arm outstretched to him but he reached out for me and I stood on tiptoe and reached as far as I could, missing him by mere millimetres as the both of us tried to make a connection, him avoiding grabbing onto the hands of the people beside and behind me vying for his attention until it was clear he wasn't going to get to grip my hand again. Devastating, but still so special to be chosen by him despite the impossibility of his goal.

All too soon the 90 minutes were up and we all dispersed into the night, the wild afterparty becoming just a quiet drink. It feels strange not to be doing it all again tomorrow but thankfully I only have to wait a week to do it all again.

[freenewsreport]

Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd: A Love Story Lost in Time

Have you ever wondered about the love lives of celebrities, especially when they involve two people from completely different worlds? One such story that made headlines in the 90s was the romantic relationship between Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd. It was a pairing that intrigued fans, not just because of their individual stardom but because of the mystery that surrounded their love life. How did a pop star and a glamour model find each other in the chaos of fame? Let’s dive deep into this whirlwind romance, the lives of Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd, and how their relationship captured the public’s imagination.

Who Is Jason Orange?

Jason Orange is a former member of the iconic British boy band Take That, which shot to fame in the early 1990s. As one of the most beloved members of the group, Jason became a heartthrob for millions of fans around the world. His quiet charm, striking looks, and impressive dance moves made him a fan favorite. But despite his fame, Jason Orange always remained something of an enigma. He wasn’t the type to flaunt his personal life, which only added to his mystique.

Who Is Kathy Lloyd?

On the other hand, Kathy Lloyd was one of Britain’s top glamour models in the 80s and 90s. Famous for her appearances in popular magazines like The Sun and Page 3, Kathy became a household name for her stunning beauty and bold personality. She embodied confidence, and her career thrived as she graced magazine covers and became a regular face on television.

Kathy Lloyd wasn’t just another pretty face, though. She carved out a lasting career for herself in a notoriously tough industry. But when Jason Orange entered her life, the media frenzy began.

How Did Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd Meet?

Now, you might be wondering: How did Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd cross paths? They seemed like two individuals from entirely different worlds. Well, the 90s were a time when the lines between pop culture and the world of glamour modeling were more blurred than ever. Celebrities from various spheres often mingled at industry events, parties, and charity functions.

Jason and Kathy reportedly met at a mutual friend’s party, and sparks flew immediately! Their chemistry was undeniable, and soon after, rumors of their relationship began swirling in the tabloids.

The Media's Obsession with Their Relationship

As you can imagine, the relationship between Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd was a hot topic in the media. The tabloids couldn’t get enough of them. It seemed that everywhere they went, they were followed by a throng of photographers eager to catch a glimpse of the couple. Fans were curious, too—after all, both Jason and Kathy were household names, and seeing them together felt like a crossover episode of two different shows!

But despite the media attention, both Jason and Kathy kept their relationship relatively private. They were often seen together at events, but they rarely discussed their romance publicly. This only fueled the curiosity of fans—What was really going on behind the scenes? Were they in it for the long haul, or was this just another fling?

Why Did Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd Break Up?

All good things, as they say, must come to an end. Unfortunately, the same was true for Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd. The exact reasons for their breakup were never made public, but there’s speculation that the pressure of fame and constant media scrutiny played a significant role. It’s tough enough to maintain a relationship in private, let alone when the entire world is watching your every move.

Moreover, both Jason and Kathy were incredibly busy with their careers at the time. Take That was touring the world, and Kathy’s modeling career was in full swing. The demands of their respective professions may have made it difficult for them to spend quality time together.

What Happened to Jason Orange After the Breakup?

After his split with Kathy Lloyd, Jason Orange continued to focus on his career with Take That. However, by 2014, Jason had officially left the group, citing a desire to step away from the limelight. To this day, Jason remains largely out of the public eye, leading a quiet life away from the music industry.

What Did Kathy Lloyd Do After the Breakup?

Similarly, Kathy Lloyd shifted gears after her relationship with Jason Orange ended. Although she continued modeling for a few more years, she eventually retired from the glamour scene. Kathy has since lived a more private life, occasionally making appearances in the media but mostly staying out of the public spotlight.

Why Does Their Relationship Still Fascinate Us?

So, what is it about Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd that still captures our imagination? Perhaps it’s because their romance felt like a match made in celebrity heaven. They were both successful, attractive, and wildly popular in their own right. Or maybe it’s because their relationship seemed genuine—free from the drama and spectacle that often surrounds celebrity couples. Whatever the reason, fans still talk about them to this day, wondering what might have been.

Key Takeaways: Why Do We Remember Jason and Kathy?

They were a power couple in the 90s: Both Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd were at the height of their fame.

They valued privacy: Unlike many celebrity couples, they kept their romance low-key, adding an air of mystery.

Their breakup was quiet: The couple parted ways without much drama, leaving fans with more questions than answers.

Conclusion

In the end, the romance between Jason Orange and Kathy Lloyd remains one of those untold stories that fans love to reminisce about. Even though they went their separate ways, they left a lasting impression on the hearts of many. Their love may have faded, but the intrigue surrounding their relationship certainly hasn’t. It serves as a reminder that, sometimes, the most captivating love stories are the ones we never fully get to see.

[lifekomorebi]

Bar hopping at 8...

How did you spend your weekends from the ages of 8-12? Playing on bikes with your friends? Cinema trips? Cosy evenings around the TV watching Noel's House Party? Not quite the same in the Galunacy household. For 5 days of the week, my brother and I were normal school kids, but as the school bell rang on Friday (no, we didn't turn into bananaman/woman/person). We would be picked up by mum in the latest nuts/wildly impractical motor dad had purchased - Cherokee Chief, Aston Martin, Cheeseburger Mini. All bags packed and off to Gray's Inn Road, Holborn, London we schlepped for the weekend. (I write about the journeys in another blog post further down the page) This was where dad lived permanently, we could not live with him all the time as it was just too crazy. The commercial premises on Gray's Inn Road, opposite the soon to be ITN building at the beginning was where his electrical company was housed but later it evolved (naturally) into the first bar, music venue and restaurant. Never, really knowing what we would walk into, there was a fair amount of trepidation about what the weekend would hold. In the early days, it was pretty awesome. On the Friday evening, whilst my dad and mum would do work, my brother and I would fuck about with power tools in the basement. We would then go out for food on nearby Exmouth market, one of the biggest highlights - this was the late 80s so not much of that was around Steeple Bumpstead. Chinese and Indian, or across the road to dad's mad friends Italian restaurant. These were always fun nights, as we were either smashing poppadoms over our heads, asking for suicide sauce (my brother meant to say Soy Sauce, he was very little), or setting fire to those Amaretto Biscuit waxy wrappers to make wishes...dad would normally fall asleep in a bowl of whatever he was eating. Saturday mornings, would be where we had to keep quiet and amuse ourselves. So my brother and I would go back to the power tools, and sawing random bits of wood - how we managed to keep our limbs intact, I will never know. Mum and Dad would work, they ran the business together. If we were good - in the afternoon, there would be a fun trip out in London to one of the many attractions in the city. I have happy memories of Greenwich Observatory, Tower of London and various museums.

The Sunday's were where it all started to unravel, and to this day I am so thankful for pubs closing at 3pm! Remember that?! We would normally go to one of the famous pubs to watch lunchtime blues. Now these places were popular, so they were normally heaving, sweaty, loud and definitely no other kids there. We had to sit in the corner with a bottle of coca cola and some crisps and witness the fun unfold. Everyone drank Newcastle Brown Ale, everyone smelt like Newcastle Brown Ale, you stuck to the chairs and floors because well...Newcastle Brown Ale. We saw some amazing acts, in some legendary pubs and now I absolutely love that sort of music so I am thankful for this music education. In fact this would probably be my favourite way to spend a sunday afternoon now sans Newcastle Brown Ale. But to the ears of an 8-12 year old - it felt it was endless. An endless afternoon of music, that all sounded the same, whilst watching your dad get pissed and chat to his mates. It would get more and more raucous, people would talk at me with hot aley breath. Dad would go a bit on the turn and we would have to be careful to keep the 'we are enjoying this' faces plastered on our face. The best bit was when Mick the Jug (a real character in that scene) would walk around the pub getting money for the band - that meant we were on to last three songs and then in car, drop drunk dad off and drive back to our home ready for school on Monday.

In the early days, it felt like a big adventure - our weekend school news stories rivalled the other kids and quite often we were told off for 'creative writing'. To which we protested it was all true! We had two lives and it was exciting - but then came the Fenders - the bar. How the bar came about is another story, and a real turning point for our family and how these weekends would pan out.

[greenwood106-blog]

Darkness Of December 8th

December 8th is a day that represents significant music loss.  Both John Lennon and Darrell "Dimebag" Abbott were murdered on this day in separate years.  Both had significant music impacts in very different ways and on very different groups of people, but the depth of their loss musically is really comparable.

The following is my recollection of the day it happened and my feelings and inspiration from both.

In 1980 I was 12 and hanging out in my room listening to the radio when the DJ said that John Lennon had been shot and killed in from of his place in New York.  I had recently been formally introduced to his music with the Double Fantasy album and was learning his history and contribution to music.  I got up to walk in to my mom's sewing room and told her that John Lennon had been shot and killed.  We were both shocked, but my mom's understanding of his music history was far deeper than mine.

I was floored watching all of the various gatherings and responses to his death and knew that I had to learn more about his music.  While I was much more of a metal head at the time, it was impressive to me all he had done and how he was revered.  I remember when Elvis Presley died and it seemed to me the response was very similar.

As I've gotten older and my music love has expanded, The Beatles music and Lennon's music have become much more relevant and inspirational.  Not to mention Lennon's desire to see peace and equality and how he went about making the issues public.  Whether you agree with his positions or not, the idea that one of the most recognized and regarded celebrities would utilize the fame and constant media attention to do this is impressive.

I won't share any attention for the guy who shot him, but knowing later that the only reason he did it was Lennon was the most famous person accessible to him was even more nauseating.  This pig didn't oppose his music, didn't find his political or human rights positions troubling, he simply chose him as the most famous target he could reach. I'm thankful that the system has denied his release every time it has come up (twelve times total thus far).  His next parole hearing will be in 2023 unless he dies before then.  Rest In Peace John Lennon.

This brings us to 2004.  At 36 I had been playing guitar and was working with a friend of mine to establish better recording practices.  He is a lifelong metal head and has played and recorded for years.  We are both huge fans of the playing of Darrell "Dimebag" Abbott.  His band Pantera changed the heavy metal music sound and his playing technique was incredible.  His brother Vinnie was the drummer both in Pantera and in the band that came after Pantera disbanded, Damageplan.

It was while he was touring with Damageplan in 2004 that they played a show in Columbus, Ohio at the Alrosa Villa.  This venue, as all of them on this tour, was much smaller than he had been playing with Pantera.  I had seen them at what is now called Chase Field on a New Year's Eve show and at an outside venue that had a massive crowd and the largest mosh pit I had ever been next to.  These Damageplan venues were more like nightclubs or maybe the size of an Elk's Lodge Hall.  At the time, these venues had fairly light security and I've stood next to these venues and seen the artists just walk in and out of the side of the venue and be completely accessible. Moments into their set on December 8th, 2004 a mentally disturbed former Marine whose name will also not be mentioned by me ever came through the side door armed, walked right across the stage from stage right to stage left where Darrell was playing, raised the gun and fired five times, hitting him all five times in the head, right in front of his brother.  People tried to stop him or help Darrell, and Jeff "Mayhem" Thompson, head of band security and Alrosa Villa employee Erin Halk were killed trying to stop the dirtbag.  Audience member Nathan Bray was killed for trying to perform CPR on Darrell and Jeff.

Drum tech John "Kat" Brooks and tour manager Chris Paluska were both shot but survived.  Brooks was shot three times trying to stop the maniac.

The police arrived in just a few quick minutes after being called.  Officer James Niggemeyer snuck up on the lunatic who had taken Brooks hostage when he saw the officers in front of the stage.  When he raised the gun up toward Brooks' head, Niggemeyer shot the loser in the head, ending the chaos.

Sitting out at my friend's house late into the night, I received a call that it had been reported on the radio that Darrell had been killed.  We started searching around online, which 18 years ago wasn't nearly as fast and responsive as it is today.  We started to see some possible subtle confirmations, but it wasn't for quite some time before we were able to actually confirm it and we were both devastated.

Darrell's picking, his technique with harmonics and his rhythms were so inspiring for a metal player.  He was also a very open, joyful person and embraced talking with fans and doing instructional videos online and for guitar magazines. I can't imagine seeing a brother murdered in front of you while you were doing what you both lived for, something as innocent as playing music and entertaining fans, but Darrell's brother Vinnie seemed to mourn every day afterwards.  He joined another band called Hellyeah which was a bit of a supergroup of metal musicians and they toured regularly.

In June of 2018, Vinnie died from heart issues.  His heart was forever damaged watching his brother die and from his active drinking and partying lifestyle, which I also attribute to his sadness. December 8th will forever have sad memories for me and many, many other people.  As a guitar and bass guitar teacher, I try to educate people about the amazing techniques and music produced by these two while skipping the pathetic nature of their death.

[tpwkay]

Medicine (h.s.)

You’re finally given permission to cover the song you’ve wanted to perform for years and a special surprise during your performance sweeps you off of your feet.

Word count: 11.5k

Rating/warnings: NSFW - A lot of this is plot but there is smut as well. Contains explicit language and consensual sex acts between a man and woman. This is a story written in the 2nd person (“self insert"). This isn’t written to be exclusionary, it’s just my preferred style! Author’s note can be found at the end!

"Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot thank you enough for coming out tonight to listen to me and the band. We've got a couple more songs coming up for you but I just wanted to take a minute to tell y'all how much we appreciate you." You gesture to yourself and the band behind you as the lights on stage come up a bit. "We wouldn't be where we are without your support. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you!"

The crowd cheers and you can't help but experience an insurmountable feeling of joy. It never gets old. You'd been in the spotlight for a few years now, already at the end of touring your second album, though the size and scope of venues this time around was much, much larger. There was nothing that compared to being able to sing your own songs and have a crowd of thousands scream them right back at you.

Being an up-and-coming singer and songwriter in the genre of country music hadn't been easy. Girls your type had been a dime a dozen, hoards of Taylor Swift-wannabes covering "Teardrops on My Guitar" during open mic night. You held nothing against them; there was a path to success for everyone, but yours had been, well, different. 

It was a karaoke cover of Brooks & Dunn's "Boot Scootin' Boogie", a song that you'd been singing since you were a toddler, that had gotten you noticed by a recording artist one night while out with your girlfriends, which led you to where you stand now, performing in front of thousands. You were liked for the range of your voice, with it's easy easy transitions from the sounds of pop to country and rock, in addition to the way you performed, and your take-no-shit attitude towards the entirety of the industry. People liked that you were forward and left nothing on the table, though you had to admit that it was mostly an act, a means of coping with the pressure of working your way to the top.

///

"It's refreshing!" Jax, your manager, had shouted one day, arms flailing as you had argued that maybe your attitude was going to get you into trouble one of these days.

"Aren't you, as, you know, my manager, supposed to be the one keeps me in line?"

"You aren't out doing coke, killing anyone, public indecency and all that," he had shrugged. "Far as I'm concerned, you are in line. People talk about you because of your attitude. They like it! They like you. Why is that so hard for you to accept sometimes?"

"Maybe I just haven't been caught doing those things," you grinned, effectively dodging his question. Fame hadn't helped break down the walls that you'd long ago built around yourself. If anything, you had done some reinforcing, built a moat even, in an effort to ensure that you protected yourself from getting too close to anyone that would only end up using you in the end. You had seen the way people in life had been used, and what it ultimately led them to, and you had promised yourself long ago that even if it meant being known as the Boot Scootin' Bitch, you would protect yourself and your heart at all costs. 

"Your momma would tan your hide for much less than any of those, you know. Hell, you should be more afraid of her than you are of me or anyone else… 'cept maybe God."

///

You shake your head, working the memories free from your mind as you grab a bottle of water from the platform on which the drum set rests.

There's one more song of yours to sing before you performed a new cover, the one you had been looking forward to for months. Although you'd gotten permission to perform it not long into the start of your tour, the set list had been rehearsed already and every other detail ironed out around it. You'd convinced Jax and the crew to let you slot it into the last concert of the tour, Austin, Texas. These folks knew their music and for some reason, they liked you so you were thrilled to be able to share something new with the crowd that had welcomed you to their city with open arms. 

You grab your guitar off its stand and slide the strap over your shoulders, adjusting it as you step forwards to the mic stand. A shimmering blue shirt catches your eye in the crowd and you do a double take because surely it can't be Harry because he's—

And it's not him, of course, though the fashion of the gentleman in the pit area would surely catch his eye as well as it's right up his alley. It's not him - it can't be him - because you know exactly where he is right now and it's not in the pit of your Austin performance. 

A grin stretches over your face as you think of him. You strum the first chord of the first song you'd ever written about him, although there had been many more since. He probably knew this one was about him, having come just after your first meeting. 

/// 

A friend of yours was good friends with Kacey, who had been the guest artist that night. Her name had been added to the VIP list and in the summer of 2018, just as you were hitting your own stride in your career, you tagged along with her to Harry Styles' live tour performance in your hometown of Nashville. 

If you were being honest, prior to his concert, you hadn't heard much of his solo work, apart from the various huge hits like his Kiwi or Watermelon Sugar and a few other ballads. You liked his sound, seemingly influenced heavily by rock stars of days past, but you'd had other influences to worry about in your own side of the industry. 

Sure, he had country music connections through the likes of Kacey Musgraves and Cam, and legends like Stevie Nicks, but his pop and soft rock style was pretty far removed from most country playlists that you yourself had graced. Your genres just didn't cross paths and the two of you seemingly operated in different realms of the music industry, topping your own charts and breaking your own peer's records. 

Of course, you hadn't been completely oblivious to The Harry Styles. One Direction had been too big of a deal to ignore and you'd often found yourself bopping along to their old hits, singing along as they played amongst the other nostalgic pop hits to which you listened. 

The concert had been in June, a hot sunny day followed by a perfect breezy evening. Downtown Nashville was always busy, but that night the city seemed to buzz, bright with music and life. After meeting for drinks at Acme on the River, you allowed yourself to luxuriate in getting lost in the crowd that milled about on Broadway. It was a surprising thing to not be recognized in your hometown, but you weren't one to complain about it. It was one reason that you value your time in Nashville over other music-centric cities like Los Angeles - it seemed that people here respected the private lives of musicians. There was an odd fan here and there, but you'd lived a majority of your "famous" life in Nashville in relative peace. 

You were early to the venue, your friend having wanted to have a chance to see Kacey backstage. You were excited to finally meet the star - though you'd been around the block of fame a bit already, there would always be people that you never had an opportunity to meet in passing. You had been greeted at will call and had been led backstage.

The arena was alive with excitement. At that point, you yourself had never toured a venue that large, so the experience of being backstage and seeing the operations first hand were thrilling and a bit overwhelming. In her dressing room, Kacey pulled you straight into a hug, gushing about how excited she was to watch your career take off. She insisted on sharing her personal cell phone number with you, urging you to call her to get together on a collaboration. You were in shock leaving her room, blown away by her kindness and the way the music industry worked in the most bizarre of ways, when you turned a corner and ran smack into a tall, solid, smiling Harry Styles. His arms had come out quickly to steady you on your heels boots. 

"Fuck," you swore, shaking your head at your clumsiness. "I am so sorry. What a great way to introduce myself."

He laughed and the sound flowed through you, warm and sweet like a cup of tea with honey. "Y'alright?" His eyes looked you over, and you couldn't help but notice the way they lingered. 

Your cheeks blushed and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. "I'm the one that should be asking you that. I don't think your adoring fans would be very happy if I took you out with a textbook tackle right before you're due to go on stage." You took a moment to give him the same appreciative glance he had already given you, admiring the way his deep blue custom-beaded suit jacket fell open to reveal a black dress shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest. 

"Ah, 'm fine. Lil' thing like you couldn't do too much damage to me, even in those heels. Don't think they'd be very happy though," he said, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the already-rowdy crowd while offering his hand. "I'm Harry."

You laughed as you introduced yourself, shaking his hand. 

"I've heard that name before, but I'm sorry to say that I don't recognize you. You don't seem like one that's easy to forget."

"I sing, write music," you shrugged, not sure how to explain to a superstar that you were on the way up, yet still somewhere much farther down the fame totem pole than him. "Country, mostly. Not sure if that's on your radar."

"The new stuff's not, but I may have to change that." He was tapped by one of the event producers, needed for another pre-show procedure. "Where will you be tonight?" 

"To your right, in the pit."

He smiled and you had almost immediately fallen in love with the crinkles that appeared under the corners of his eyes. "I'll look out for you. It was wonderful meeting you. Oh, shit, wait, just remembered— may I?" he gestured for the phone that was in your hand and you unlocked it before passing it to him. 

You watched as he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. He paused for a moment before he grinned. "Hi Harry, it's you from before the show. This is a message to remind you to text this number and ask the owner of it out on a date. She's the one with the beautiful smile and great tackling skills. You won"t have forgotten her. 'Kay, bye!"

You laughed at an almost embarrassing volume, blown away by his cheek. 

"Why not ask 'her' out now?" you pondered to him as he handed the phone back.

"What, and risk getting shot down? Wouldn't want to be sad and disappointed through my whole show, now would I?"

"It would make the ballads a bit more emotional," you had reasoned with a grin.

"Ouch! They're already filled with emotion, love. You'll see, I'll sing 'em right to you if I have to. Gotta run, thank you for letting me use your phone, that was a very important message!"

You laughed again as he took off. "Harry!" you had shouted to get his attention in the busy hall. He turned quickly, a small smile on his face. "She definitely won't say no, but you can wait until later to ask if you want to."

His grin stretched wider and he'd pumped a fist in the air before turning and jogging down the hallway. 

You liked to joke with anyone who knew the story that your life had changed that day all because you met Kacey. Which wasn't a complete lie - it had been her dressing room you'd come out of before slamming into Harry in the hallway. 

///

Singing the last lines of one of your songs, your stomach began to flutter in a bit of nervousness and a lot of excitement. Performing the next cover was something you had been looking forward to for months, and the moment that you got to share it with your fans was finally here. 

You retreat from the mic stand to pass your guitar off to a stagehand, taking another sip of water to settle yourself. 

"Doing alright?" Wyatt, your drummer, shouts over the pounding bass drum and you give him a thumbs up before turning back to face the crowd. 

"I've got one more cover to play for y'all tonight," you say, grasping the mic stand to keep your hands from shaking. "I've been working on getting permission to play this one for quite awhile now. I fell in love with it the first time I heard it played and now here I am, performing it for you all. It's an unreleased piece by a very, very good friend of mine, but his performances of it are all over the internet so some of you may know the words. This song is called Medicine."

The song starts out with a steady bass line and the rhythm centers you a bit, steadying any nerves that still linger. The intro gives you a minute to shake out your shoulders and get comfortable at the mic stand once more like Harry does at each performance. You catch yourself having fun mimicking him and feel thankful that you're able to perform one of your favorite songs of his. When the bass drops in pitch and the electric guitar riffs, you slide in close to the mic stand.

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine," you sang the opening lines, already settling into the sexy rock sound of the song you and the band had rehearsed relentlessly over the last few weeks. No, the genre wasn't one you normally dabbled in, but part of the fun of performing was taking chances, risks. You had to admit, you liked the sound a lot. It tempted you to branch out a bit more on your upcoming album. 

The opening lines of the first verse throw you back into thoughts of meeting Harry that first night. You hadn't imagined what would follow the concert, let alone have the foresight to see it bringing you to this very moment in time. 

///

You had been standing outside the arena after the concert, ears buzzing and heart thumping still from the incredible show Harry had put on. As soon as he disappeared from the backstage hall earlier, you had immediately saved his number to your phone, still in disbelief over the night's events. 

Your heart had soared when your phone began to vibrate, not in a text message but in a voice call. Harry's name appeared on the screen and your friend had nudged you, clearly approving of the night's turn of events. 

"Harry," you answered, ready to praise him halfway to Sunday on his performance. 

"Let me take you out," he interrupted you. "Right now. Please? Anywhere you want to go." 

You laughed and paused. "Yeah, okay. I might know of a place."

There was a lot of shuffling on his end before his voice came back on the line. "Might've had to do another fist pump."

"Told you she wouldn't say no."

"Where are you?" You heard the smile in his voice, already familiar with it. 

"Demonbreun and John Lewis, headed towards the park."

"Give me 10, I'll pick you up." He paused. "Be careful, okay?"

"I'll stick with the hoards of your fans milling about, maybe ask some of them for the hot gossip on you while I wait."

"Don't believe anything they say," he said, and you could tell he was still smiling as he hung up. 

He and his driver arrived shortly after, Harry's hair damp and covered with a baseball cap, dressed down in black pants and a simple loose white shirt, tattoos peeking out everywhere you looked. He exited the car and opened the back door for you, helping you balance as you stepped up into the large Suburban. 

"We'll go to Pecker's," you said to his driver, laughing as Harry snorted next to you. "Shut up, it's just a bar. Take a right up here onto 24 and it'll take us all the way to Fairfield. It'll be on the right."

He looked at you and smiled before reaching out to hold your hand in the middle seat between you. 

Taking Harry to Pecker's had just felt right. It was where you'd been discovered, where all of your adventures had started, and you weren't sure why but you wanted to share that small part of you with him after watching him up on stage that night. 

"Won't people recognize you? I looked you up before the show, you're apparently a pretty big deal around here." He had asked, smirking, sipping on the locally-brewed beer that Clint, the regular bartender, was serving that night. 

"Locals are pretty good about not interrupting our normal lives. Pecker's isn't as well known to tourists either, so it's a good hideout. This is where a lot of producers, executives and all the other professionals come to unwind." You ignored his comment on your fame and had taken a sip of your margarita instead. "Unless, of course, there's a drag show scheduled, then it's a bit of a madhouse."

Harry laughs into his drink and you grin. "So," he started after a pause, twiddling with the rings on his right hand. "What'd you think?"

"It was incredible," you said without hesitation. "Truly one of the best live shows I've seen in a long time, country acts included. You've got such a magnetism about you that people can't help but want to watch." You blushed a bit, alcohol and the quick comfort of him loosening your lips. "The whole water spraying trick was hot," you admit, making him blush. "And don't tell Stevie, but I think I might prefer your version of The Chain."

"Sacrilege! That's some incredibly high praise," he said, a small smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. 

"Earned and deserved," you said, tilting your glass to his. "Honestly, Harry, you're an incredible musician. There aren't many out there that have the whole package like that."

"What about you? You seem like the whole package."

"I don't know if I'd say that. If you looked me up, you've likely seen what they say about me. 'My attitude won't get me far' and all. But I don't think it's my attitude, so much as it is my willingness to take the risks that others won't. I'm not out here to make music that's just there to be sold. Hell, I couldn't care less about the money. All I want is to create music that makes me feel fulfilled, and I think that honesty scares them." You twirled your finger in the condensation of the glass in front of you. You glanced up to his face finding his eyes already on yours, holding your gaze steadily. "It doesn't scare you, does it?"

"It's the most refreshing thing I've heard in a while. Not many people in the industry are fearless in the face of failure like that."

"I'm definitely not fearless; I just refuse to change who I am to make a buck."

"Who are you then?" Harry had asked, and telling him your story was easy. You couldn't understand how it was so natural, opening up to a stranger, but as the conversation wore on, you realized how similar you and Harry were in terms of the way you conducted your professional lives and that was without apology. 

And you also realized, as the evening continued and you and Harry crept your bar stools closer and closer to one another, feet and knees bumping, his fingers tracing the ridges of your knuckles as you shared life stories like long lost friends, that you didn't want it to end. 

///

"He's acting like a gentleman," you continue, changing up the lyrics slightly as you finish the first verse. The line always made you smile and you let yourself briefly flash back into your reminiscing about the night you'd met Harry, and how, even though he had acted gentlemanly upon dropping you off for the evening, you wanted to be anything but a gentlewoman. 

///

After enjoying drinks late into the evening at Pecker's, Harry had insisted on having his driver take you home rather than allowing you to call an Uber. 

"Such a gentleman," you commented as he opened the car door for you once again. 

"Maybe my gentlemanly actions have motives," he said, sliding his hand along your lower back as you step past him and into the car. Your grin matched his smirk as he shut the door and you decided that he'd been right - not calling an Uber was the right thing to do.

The car ride back to your apartment building was too quick and before you knew it, he was at your door again, offering a hand for you to hold for balance as you exited the car. Neither of you let go as you walked through the lobby towards the elevators. 

"You're uh— You're welcome to come up, if you'd like," you said, suddenly shy but not wanting to chicken out on asking for what you wanted, asking for some continuation of this sweet but likely brief meeting between you two. "For a drink, I mean, or to keep chatting, you know."

Harry smiled and glanced around the empty lobby. His hand in yours smoothed up the length of your arm, over your shoulder, and came to rest at your jaw. "I'd love to, believe me. You have no idea how much I want to." He leaned towards you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and your skin burned at the contact of his lips. "But I want to do this the right way. Don't want you to get the wrong idea of me."

"What if I want the wrong idea of you?"

He laughed, the sound open and honest and it had given you hope. "You called me a gentleman earlier and I have to admit that I liked it, coming from you. Would like to keep up the facade that I am, even if it's just for a bit." His face searched yours, each of you trying to read the thoughts that were flying through one another's minds. "You have beautiful lips," he whispered suddenly, his accent thicker than it had been all night. 

Your mouth quirked into a smile, unable to do anything but preen at his compliment. "You do too," you replied, just as softly. 

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please, yes." Before the words had settled he was kissing you, slowly and with too much care, like you would break if he wasn't gentle enough. It was over much too quick but you knew you would remember every moment of it for the rest of your life. 

"Christ, I'd wanted to do that all night." His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, smiling when you leaned into the touch. He glanced up as the elevator doors swung open and gently nudged you towards them. "Thank you, truly, for a wonderful evening. I promise to give you a call soon."

"I'll send Kacey after you if you don't!" you laughed, stepping into the lift.

"Good night darling." He winked and the doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the delicious ghost of his lips on yours. 

///

"Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline, think I'm gonna stick with you," you finish the first verse as Ryann rips through the chords on her guitar. You loved that the song built slowly, and even though that meant a quieter beginning, it promised an explosive end. 

Though the crowd had been hesitant at first, you can see that the first few rows of them are nodding along, countless phones out recording the performance. You know that somewhere out there at your request is a member of your press team, professionally filming the cover. You may only be doing it once, but you were determined to make sure you would never forget it.

///

You had enough time at home to check some of your social media accounts, shower and get comfortable in bed before your phone rang again. For the second time that day, your heart soared seeing Harry's name light up your screen.

"If you're going to say that you're downstairs because you've reconsidered my offer for that nightcap, I'll need a few moments to prepare as I'm currently in my pajamas," you said as a greeting and you were met with his warm laughter once again.

"No, no, I had to go back to the arena for a bit anyways, pack up and all of that," he said, still chuckling. "I just— I wanted to make sure you weren't offended by me declining your offer. Because I wanted to— I didn't want the night to end there. There's something about you that's… Transfixing. And I don't want to ruin that and make you think you're just a fling."

"That's quite a compliment," you said, a bit awed by his words.

"What was it you said earlier, "earned and deserved", yeah?" He said, quoting your toast to him at the bar, making you grin. "I want you to be more than that. I'd like to get to know you, the gentlemanly way."

"Okay. Will we have a chaperone at our next date then?" He laughed but didn't correct your referral to that evening as a date. You had snuggled a bit deeper into the sheets, still disbelieving that all of this had been the result of being dragged along to a concert. 

"No chaperones," he chuckled, "but yes, I do want to take you out again, if you'd let me."

"Hmm," you jokingly pondered aloud, as if answering with anything other than a resounding "yes" was on your mind. "I suppose I could fit something into my schedule."

"I hope that's a yes."

"Of course it's a yes! I didn't want the night to end either. And don't you dare say that you just did another fist pump," you had laughed, hearing the familiar shuffling of the phone on his end of the line.

"Me? Never!"

"You're adorable," you had said, a smile stuck on your face.

"And you're beautiful. Two can play this game."

There had been a comforting silence between you for a moment before you had spoken up again. "Harry?"

"Yeah, love?"

You had blushed at the pet name but loved the way it sounded being directed your way. "Thank you," you had whispered. 

"Should be me thanking you. Sleep well sweetheart." You'd fallen asleep with your phone in hand, hopeful that you wouldn't wake up the next morning to realize it had all been a dream.

/// 

It hadn't been a dream, and here you were, nearly two years later, performing one of the songs that Harry himself had sung the night that you'd begun falling for him.

The second verse continued quickly and you let the lyrics wash over you as you sang, loving the way the rock energy of the song sounded with a bit of your band's country influence. 

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, rest it on your fingertips," you sang, holding your pointer finger in the air much like Harry did every time he performed the song before bringing it to your lips as you sang the next line. "Up to your mouth, feeling it out, feeling it out."

/// 

Beginning to date Harry - properly date him too, not just make FaceTime calls to one another from across the world and sending texts back and forth until the wee hours of the morning thanks to the differences in time zones, sharing everything and more with one another as best you could digitally - had been the most exhilarating experience of your life, and you had performed in front of sold out crowds and accepted awards on live television. His tour was due to stretch on for almost another month throughout North America and the next time you saw him was when you'd been invited as Harry's guest to his show in Chicago just a few weeks after you'd met. 

While he had put on an incredible show for the United Center, there had been moments that felt like he was performing just for you, glancing over to where you stood in the Friends and Family area, meeting your eyes and grinning. By that point, you could sing along to every song of his and you knew he loved it, loved watching you dance along to the music that he had created and was performing. 

In a moment where you were thankful for the differences between the genres in which you two performed, you hadn't been recognized at all by his fans. You'd both talked about wanting to keep things quiet as you got to know one another, and you hadn't wanted a relationship with him, an already incredibly famous artist, to somehow influence the trajectory of yours. While it had been easy when you were apart, being together without seemingly being together was difficult. Especially in that moment, when all you wanted to do was curl up into him and soak in the post-show bliss with him. Instead, you sat on the couch with him, a cushion apart from one another, holding his hand tightly while you chatted about the concert. 

"Someone is gonna notice that you looked to my side of the pit constantly all night," you said and he grinned guiltily. 

"I like knowing you're in the crowd," he shrugged. "Besides," he scooted closer and threw his arm around you before dragging you in close, "you look incredible, how could I not want to stare at you all night?"

"Anyone could walk in," you pointed out, watching as his eyes followed your lips. 

"Just want a little taste," he said, moving in closer, "Haven't I earned a kiss from my girlfriend after all of that work up on stage?"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you looked at him and he seemingly realized his slip-up. 

"I mean— What I meant was— Shit," he scrubbed a hand over his face but you could tell he was hiding a grin. "Wasn't exactly how I wanted to ask you, but… Will you officially be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, H. I'm all yours."

"Love it when you call me H." He pulled you in for a kiss that you both lost yourselves in, finally able to experience the feeling of one another after being denied it for so long. When a knock at the dressing room door came, Harry had to all but drag himself away from you, hair disheveled and lips swollen, scowling at the door. 

You threw your head back and laughed as he stalked over and pulled it open with a flourish. 

"What?"

"The hell's your issue?" you heard Mitch ask before Harry widened the door so he could see you laughing on the couch. You raised a hand in greeting and Harry's scowl deepened as Mitch chuckled, taking in both of your disheveled appearances. "Oh, shit, hey, sorry. Uh, car's ready when you are. See you tomorrow bud." 

"Harry!" you chided once he'd closed the door in Mitch's face, giggles still bubbling out of your mouth. "He was just being polite."

"Interrupting arse is what he is," Harry said, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. "Where were we?"

You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your body as close to his as possible, hoping that he'd thought to lock the door before returning to your embrace. "Right about here, I think." With a hand on your hip, sliding under your shirt to reach warm skin and one at the back of your neck, Harry kissed you until you were breathless and not only wanting more but very seriously needing it. 

"Come back to the hotel with me," he murmured against your lips as you ground your body down on him, reveling in the way the action made him throw his head against the back of the couch and exhale sharply. 

"You sure?" Your hands smoothed over the chest of his skin, tracing the dark swallows with your fingertips as you rolled your hips. 

He shuddered at the light touch and gripped your hips tightly, pressing his up as you pressed yours down and the action made you sigh, the pressure a delicious tease of what was hopefully to come. "Absolutely," he said, his grin telling you he was pleased with the noises he was causing you to make. "Want you so bad, like I won't be able to breathe right until I properly have you."

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, his shower-damp curls tickling your cheek. "The feeling is mutual. Adored watching you up on stage tonight. Have I told you yet how much I love seeing you perform?" You nuzzle at his neck, urging him to tilt his head back farther, exposing more of his skin to you. 

"Yeah, you have, but tell me again," he sighed, his hands running up and down your back. 

"It's like when you get on stage no one else before or after you matters," you said honestly, letting your lips against his skin hide how truthful you were really being, spilling all of your thoughts about seeing Harry up on stage. It was scary, feeling so deeply for him already. But you wanted him to know, at least in part, what it meant to be able to watch him perform. "Something about your live voice just makes my breath catch in my throat, I can't get enough of it."

Harry breathed deeply for a moment, working to center himself while you nosed at the curls around his ear and heaped praise upon him. 

"It's like you connect with every person out in the crowd, like you're singing just for them. You can tell that you're having fun and people want to join you in that. They know you love the attention," you whispered and he hummed in appreciation (or agreement), the sound low in his throat. "They'd stay out there all night for if they could, screaming about how much they love you."

"And you feed into it, playing it up for them. You know exactly what you're doing when you get to act a little bit naughty up there, driving them all mad," you said with a smile. 

He chuckled and you could hear and feel the sound rumble through him. "Played it up for you tonight. Did it work?" 

"You mean did it make me want to jump your bones the second you came off stage? Yeah, it worked."

"Fucking hell," he said, holding you close with his hands on your butt as he stood up. "Our first time is not going to be in a dressing room so we need to go now."

He let you slide down his body and held you steady as you balanced on your legs. "Would be pretty fitting though, don't you think, given how we met and what we do?"

"Yeah, but then I'd think about it every time I was in one. You wanna torture me relentlessly?" He pulled you tight against him, kissing you once more before separating to grab his bags. 

"Yeah, relentless torture sounds like something I might be into." 

He glanced up at your words, eyes dark and hungry, a smirk on his lips. "Careful what you wish for, love." 

///

The bass line increased behind the riff of Ryann's guitar and you leaned into the mic stand, eyes closing as you continued singing the first bridge. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted, and when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

There were a few fans of yours and Harry's who apparently knew the words as they helped you out, screaming the unwritten word that finished the sentence: "tasted."

///

Harry was quick to say goodbye to everyone on the team before pulling you quickly through back hallways and down quiet staircases, sneaking quick kisses when he was sure there was no one around. You were both out of breath when you finally climbed into the car, grinning like kids getting away with sneaking around. 

The hotel ride was quick, mercifully, but Harry had been anything but patient, his hand at your knee creeping up slowly, closer and closer to the hem of your dress, toying with the hem while he chatted with the driver. 

"I'm gonna head in first with Martin and Eric will loop around and drop you off at the side entrance. I would wait in the lobby for you but this hotel hasn't been the best in the past with uh— containing sensitive information, we'll say, so Martin will meet you on your floor to get your stuff, then bring you up. Is that okay?"

"You sound like you've done this before, Styles," you said with a wink, using humor to cover the nerves that had settled in the pit of your stomach. 

He blushed and you loved knowing you got under his skin so easily. "The band used to stay here when we toured… and I was young and dumb once, yes."

"Just giving you a hard time, H."

His grin stretched as he leaned over to peck your lips once more. "See you in a minute, love."

Harry climbed out and the driver took off once again, slowly circling the block. "He's quite taken with you, you know," he said, glancing up in the rear view mirror as he parked the car at the curb. He got out and opened the door for you in the empty street then used his keycard to unlock the heavy side door of the hotel.

"Thank you," you said, both for his actions and his omission about Harry. Sure, you had talked to him as often as possible over the last weeks and had yourself been on the receiving end of his attention, but it felt validating to hear that Harry's feelings for you may have gone a bit farther than just a small crush if people around him had also noticed his behavior. 

Harry's bodyguard was waiting by the elevators and escorted you to your room to gather your luggage, then led you to Harry's door.

"Car'll be around about 9 tomorrow morning, H. Flight's at 10:30." He turned to you. "I understand you have business to continue here in Chicago?"

"Yes, meetings tomorrow and then I fly back to Nashville in the evening."

"There'll be a driver ready for you tomorrow as well. He's been instructed to take you wherever you need to go and he'll stay until you depart. Have a nice evening," he nodded at Harry, who was smiling in the doorway, before departing.

"You didn't have to do that for me, I could've managed by getting an Uber," you said, stepping into the room past Harry to set your bags down and kick your shoes off. 

"I didn't, was Martin's idea; says he doesn't want anything to happen to the one thing that's made me so happy these last few weeks."

"Oh yeah? I'm the one thing, huh?"

"You're everything, honestly," he replied a bit sheepishly, taking your hands in his. "Think I might like you a bit more than I already should. Lettin' my heart get a bit ahead of my head, I suppose."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," you said softly and he beamed. 

He moved his hands up to cup your face, pulling you close for a sweet kiss that quickly turned insistent, heat rising between the two of you. Harry slid his hands under the hem of your shirt to rest where your spin ended and yours wrapped around his neck, dragging him down to you as you stepped behind you towards the bed. His long legs tangled with yours and you tumbled backwards, laughing as you hit the plush bed and Harry collapsed on top of you.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at you with a smile, pushing the hair that had fallen into your face aside. "Hi baby," he said softly.

"Hi."

"Missed you," he said, leaning down for another sweet kiss. 

"We were apart for like, eight minutes," you giggled between his kisses, your laughter giving way to a sigh as he moved to press a kiss to your nose, your cheek, your chin.

"Doesn't matter," he breathed into the crook of your neck, pressing small open mouth kisses to the soft skin there, "Any time apart is too long."

"The two weeks left of the tour will fly by. You should enjoy them while you can."  

"Wish you could come with me, love performing for you." He kissed his way across the base of your neck, collarbone to collarbone as his fingers trailed to the small straps on your shoulders. "Would you like to take this off?"

"Please," you sighed, desperate and aching for the feeling of his skin against yours. 

Your first time sleeping with Harry had been exactly what you'd wanted and expected - hot and fast, admittedly over a bit more quickly than either of you had wanted, but worth the weeks of wait. 

Harry's skill set hadn't ended at singing and playing instruments. If anything, his vast experience using his hands and mouth only helped him excel in other pastimes that also utilized those parts of his body. To both of your delights, he had proven his adeptness in all areas multiple times that night, and once again in the morning before he had to rush into the shower, dragging you along with him simply to get more time together before you were forced apart once again. 

/// 

You had spent the next two months away from one another, Harry having wrapped his tour and immediately beginning work on his next album. You'd spent your own time mixed between writing and recording an upcoming single. You had already written a handful of songs that were inspired by him and you'd wondered, albeit a bit nervously, if the sentiment was shared. When he stopped in Nashville on a long layover, pushing his flight back even longer to stay with you for another night, you'd tried to pry the information out of him. Unfortunately, no amount of sexual teasing or denial had convinced him — he, however, had you singing like a canary almost immediately, teasing you in the best way about how easily you opened up for him, telling him all about the music that he had already inspired.

You had been FaceTiming him late one night weeks later, both tired from long days spent in the studio. He had suddenly gotten shy, biting at the skin around his fingernails. 

"Hey, stop that. What's the matter H?"

"Wanna ask you something," he mumbled, but a smile was peeking through where his fingers were still at his lips. "Jus' don't know how to."

"Baby," you sighed, "you can ask me anything. Y'know that." 

"I know, I know." He paused and took a deep breath before a wide smile stretched across his face. "Would you maybe want to come home with me this Christmas? To London? Wouldn't be for long, maybe just a couple nights, I just wanna introduce you to my mum already, she's been pestering me nonstop lately 'bout meetin' you and Gem's joined in on it now too, so it's two against one when they call and I've told them that—"

"Harry," you said chucking, trying to interrupt his nervous rambling.

"—and she actually called me Harold last time she told me to bring you 'round and that got me a bit worried so I—"

"Harry! Of course I'll come with you. I'd absolutely love to."

You met him at the airport weeks later, desperate to pull him close and kiss him silly in the confines of his darkly tinted car, but you refrained, knowing how seriously Harry took the protection of your relationship from the press. You may not have been able to see anyone straining to capture pictures of you two, but you knew there was always the chance. 

It was an entirely different story, however, when he'd finally pulled the car past the mechanical gate and into his private drive. You both reached for each other immediately, arms tangled and shifter knob pressed uncomfortably against your side, but perfectly content so long as his lips were against yours. 

"Fuck— I missed you— so much," he muttered between kisses. He pulled away, forehead resting against yours, sly smirk pulling at his lips. "Mum won't expect us for a few hours at least."

"What is it that you're insinuating, Mr. Styles?"

"That there's plenty of time to give you a tour around the house, that's all," he said innocently. He gave you a sweet smile before hopping out of the car and coming to the passenger side where he helped you out and picked up your bags.

You were eager to be given a house tour, more than keen to learn all of the things you could about his London life. The house was decorated in a way that made you smile - eclectic but with a definitive air of cohesive taste. It suited Harry to an absolute tee. From the artwork that decorated the walls to the mismatched but homey furniture, you could tell immediately that this was Harry's sanctuary - every inch of the home screamed his name. 

"It's incredible," you said as he led you into the largest room, the master. He walked over to the dresser that sat under the window and pulled open the top two drawers. 

"I know we won't be here long, this time around, but I cleaned out a few drawers for you here, if you want to unpack some things. And there's space in the closet for you too," he nodded towards the door on the other side of the room, dragging a hand through his hair as he talked, "I had too much in there anyways and some of it needed to go and I wanted you to be able to leave some things, if you felt comfortable, of if Mum drags us out shopping and you don't want to take it all home now you can leave it here and-"

"You- you cleared out a drawer for me?"

"Well, yeah," he said, resting his hand on the back of his neck. "Made some space for you in the bathroom too, though I doubt it'll be enough, with all that you bring along to fix yourself up." He paused and thought for a moment. "I know how our lives are. I just wanted you to have some of your own space here; want you to feel as comfortable in my home as I do. Is that too much?" 

"H," you said with a sigh, your lips curling into a smile, "it's perfect, and so thoughtful. I'm sorry I haven't done the same for you in Nashville yet."

"'s alright, love. I've already got a toothbrush there at least. I can take some time when we fly back to come and help if you'd like me to. As long as you don't end up wearing all the clothes that I leave there," he chuckled.

"You know me too well," you said, reaching for his hand. He lifted your entwined fingers to his lips to brush a kiss over your knuckles.

"You do look good in my clothes," he confessed, pulling you close to face him. "Look good in my house. But you always look good anyways."

"Said the pot to the kettle," you said with a smile. "I like being here already," you shrug, hands resting on his shoulders. "It feels like you, like home. Thank you for inviting me," you add, as though the measly voicing of your appreciation is enough to convey what you truly feel. 

"You're welcome anytime, if I'm here or not."

"You trust me that much?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll get you a key and everything." He leaned down to kiss you slowly, relearning the map of your lips and mouth, before pulling away. He laughed when you made a noise of protest.

"The bathroom's over here if you'd like to freshen up." He had pulled at your hand, stepping towards the other open door in the room. "Figured a shower might sound nice after a long day in an airplane. Besides, I've gotta clean up before we go to Mum's anyways."

"Gonna join me?" 

"Yeah, thought I might, if that's okay." His smirk had been wicked as he pushed you the rest of the way into the bathroom. He dropped your hand to reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head quickly. As he reached for the buckle of his pants, he had met your staring eyes. "See something you like, love?"

You definitely had, though you didn't think your attraction — physically or emotionally — for Harry had stopped at something that was as weak as "like." Getting to know him over the last six months had made you worry that there wasn't ever going to be anyone else like him, anyone that made you feel like he did. You had fallen for him, desperately hard, and the realization of it as you stood in front of his half-naked self almost embarrassed you. 

"Babe? You alright?" he asked as he stripped down to his boxers. 

"Yeah, you just got me all distracted," you had grinned, pulling your sweatshirt and remaining clothes off quickly before joining Harry under the warm spray of the water.

Meeting Harry's mom that evening went better than you could've ever dreamt it would. The two of you got on like old friends, and Harry had stared, almost in wonder, at how easily you seemed to bond with her. And then he had stared in horror as Anne offered to pull out the photo albums filled with pictures from Harry's childhood, particularly when Anne offered up the album filled with photos from Harry's and Gemma's emo phases. 

As the evening wore on, you caught Harry on more than one occasion glancing your way, cheeks bright from the red wine he was sipping on and eyes warmly reflecting the bright Christmas lights. He always looked like he was a split second away from saying something, only to shake his head and look away with a small smile. 

Later, in bed, Harry pulled you close to him. He was laying on his back, you on your side, and you threw a leg over his waist, soaking in all of the cuddles you could get on this short trip together. The room was only illuminated by the ambient light coming in through the blinds. 

"Mum liked you a lot," he murmured, gently stroking the skin at the base of your spine, "said I should hang onto you". 

You returned the gesture, running your fingertips along the lines of ink that make up his many tattoos. "I liked her too. She's wonderful, I see where you get it from now."

"Hey now, 'm wonderful all on my own!" He tickled your side and you couldn"t help but arch towards him, shrieking and laughing at the touch. 

"Stop that! You are an absolute pest, you know that?" you said, grinning up at him.

"Ah, you love me," he whispered, and his joking tone made you smile but the way he pulled you tighter as he said it made you brave. 

You let the weight what you were about to say wash over you, aware that things were going to change forever with just a few words. "I do love you, Harry," you whispered, moving up his body to press a kiss to his lips.

"Thank God," he had said, wrapping his arms back around you and pulling you on top of him. "Cause I love you too."

Leaving Harry after that had been even more difficult. All you wanted to do was be with him, but you had too much coming up with the future release of your album and Harry was still in the midst of doing his own writing and recording. 

It was your professions, along with the desire to keep your relationship private, that kept you apart. You weren't sure how you did it, but your relationship had withstood the distance and odd-hours. The only step now would be deciding if, when, and how to confirm the suspicions to tabloids and fans alike that you were an item.

The wait was killing you. All you wanted was to show off to the world that Harry was yours.

///

The bridge of the song was followed quickly by the chorus and the heavy guitar and pounding drums had you rocking on your feet, body swaying into the mic stand as you let yourself get lost in the lyrics. "If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive."

The crowd was even more into the song now, many picking up on the words quickly and screaming them along with your singing. The rock and roll vibe of the song was coursing through you and the crowd, the arena electric with energy already. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it."

You remove the mic from the stand and dance towards one end of the stage, singing as you move to the beat. "We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

///

You had been on the phone with Harry one day in July, nearly five months after the release of your album, having him help you decide what the setlist of your tour would be when it began in November. 

"I wish I could cover one of your songs."

He had laughed and slurped his tea, the sounds comforting to you, even over the phone. "That'd be a bit obvious, wouldn't it love?"

"I don't mean cover Golden or Kiwi," you said, tapping your pen against the pad of paper in front of you. "What about one you wrote for 1D? What about Perfect? Or Stockholm Syndrome! That was always one of my favorites."

"Getting permission on those might be a bit more difficult, s'not just me that's gotta sign off on it. Besides, do you really wanna be the artist that covers a One Direction song on her own headlining tour?"

"Guess I'll stick with singing along to them in the shower then."

You were both quiet for a moment, lost in your own thoughts. 

"What if I covered Medicine?" you asked suddenly, realizing it was the perfect compromise, not to mention your favorite song that Harry himself performed oh his own tour. The rock sound wasn't a far cry from the roots that country music had and you knew it would sound great. "Even if it was just for one stop!"

"Hmm," Harry mused. "It would sound great with the band, I'll give you that. But videos will go around, people will know it's my song you're singing and they'll connect the dots about us."

"H, I'm ready for that if you are. I love you, and I'm ready to be able to share that love that I have for you with the world. Sneaking around has been fun but I want people to know how proud of you I am and how much you're loved and appreciated. Half of our fans know already, it's just a matter of us confirming it. I think that we could really-"

Harry was laughing at your rambling on the other end of the line. "Alright, alright, you drive a hard bargain, love. I think you're right, maybe it is time we stopped sneaking around. I'll try, but Jax and everyone else still have to agree to it too. It might be easier to convince everyone if it's just a one time thing. Pick another cover, something you'd normally do, in case it takes some time to work things out."

"I'll ask him right now! Thank you Harry!"

"I just have one condition," he said, and you could hear the grin that was surely pulling at the corners of his lips. 

"What's that?"

"I get to perform it with you," he had said, and the smile already on your face widened exponentially. "If we're finally gonna make "us" public, may as well do it with a bang."

///

In the moment after the chorus, an 8 count beat is carried by the drummer and guitarist. For this performance, and the only performance you'd put on of this song, you had rehearsed the 8 count repeating once between the chorus and the next verse, as you needed a bit of extra time to announce your guest performer. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," you shout into the mic, grin wide and face beaming already at what was about to take place. "To help me finish this performance, please help me welcome my very good friend, Harry Styles!"

Harry emerges from behind the stage holding his own wireless mic as much of the crowd screams - he may not be a country artist, but he was absolutely known worldwide. You step back with a wave of your arm, smiling as he begins the next chorus. His performance is for the crowd but he's singing the words directly to you. 

"Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes, tingle running through my bones," he sings, voice smooth like whiskey, and the crowd adores him, eating out of the palm of his hand. "The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with them, and I'm OK with it." 

You can't help but dance as he sings, his voice and the energy of the crowd propelling you to move. He watches you, eyes no longer on the crowd, as he sings the next lines. Immediately, heat pools low in your belly at his glance and the words. 

"I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it. And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

You gyrate your hips at the unsung line of "ride it", listening with a sly grin as some in the crowd scream the two words that go unsung. 

///

After giving him a key, Harry had moved some of his clothes to your apartment in Nashville some time while you were away on the first leg of your tour. He had found the city to be incredibly welcoming and inspirational for his upcoming album and had decided to stay there for a spell while you continued to tour around the country. 

You had scheduled a short break between your concerts over New Years, wanting to be able to grab at least one or two nights at home with him to celebrate the holiday before you were back on the road again. 

"So fucking glad you're home," Harry panted, pulling your shirt over your head before attaching his lips to yours once again. "Missed you like crazy."

"Missed you too," you moaned as his lips moved downwards, across your neck and over your collarbones, down the valley between your breasts. Before he could reach around to unhook your bra, you reached for his shirt, as desperate as he was to see and touch what you'd been missing. 

As he pulled the half-unbuttoned blouse over his head, you pulled your leggings off and reached for him, pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He unbuttoned his pants as he scooted up towards the middle of the bed, shoving them and his boxers off in one swoop. 

You climbed on top of him, hurriedly reaching to kiss him as you rubbed your clothed center along the length of his hard cock. 

"Fuck," he hissed, throwing his head back to allow you room to kiss his neck. "Desperate aren't you, darling?"

"Want you so bad it hurts," you whispered, sucking a bright hickey right where it would absolutely be seen by anyone.

You moved to continue kissing down his chest but he stopped you with a hand under your arm. "Not gonna last long, love. Wanna be inside you."

His cheeks and chest were flushed bright red, lips puffy and pupils blown wide. This was when you loved him most, being able to have him like no one else did. The same feeling always hit you at certain moments, particularly ones of domesticity, like when you watched him back the car out of the driveway or when he stood in the kitchen in the morning in nothing but socks, boxers, and his ratty old robe, singing along to old big band jazz as he waited for the coffee to brew. There was Harry Styles the musician, Harry Styles the actor, and Harry Styles the performer, but then there was your Harry. 

"Yeah, okay," you sighed, moving off of him quickly to remove your bra and panties. You climbed back onto the bed and threw your leg over his hips, straddling him. He immediately reached for you and pulled you flush against his chest, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. 

You rocked your hips against him as he held you, your slick arousal gliding along his length, drawing a moan from both of you. 

"Baby, please," he panted, and you could only mod in agreement, lost already to the sweeping feeling of your close release. 

His hands rested on your hips as you positioned him at the entrance between your legs. You groaned in harmony as you worked down him slowly, the only sound in the room was your shared heavy breathing and gasps. 

"Fuck me," he sighed as you set a slow pace, rocking on top of him to reach each spot that you know will get you there. 

"Workin' on it," you grin. A quick swivel of your hips hit at just the right angle and you tossed your head back, repeating the movement over and over again until you shuddered with a final snap of tension, your orgasm rolling over you as Harry helped you move, hands tight on your hips, to wring all you could from the release. 

"You look so beautiful right now, like a fuckin' angel," Harry said, voice low and gravely, accent thick with need. 

"How's that line go?" you said as you slowed down, smirking when a harsh rock of your hips caused Harry to moan. "'Turns out she's a devil in between the sheets'?"

"Fuck," he groaned again, eyes closed tightly. "Can't just go reciting my own lyrics to me while I"m buried in ya like this, love."

"And there's nothing you can do about it," you continued, singing the line of his song this time, and his hips buck up into yours harshly.

"You're gonna pay for that," he had said, quoting another of his songs, before he had flipped you over onto your back and set his own brutal pace.

///

Like he can read your thoughts, Harry beams and wags a finger in your direction and the crowd screams at your chemistry together. You grab your mic from its stand and take a step towards Harry to sing the chorus together.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive." Harry dances off to the side of the stage, performing once again for the crowd. 

You dance at center stage with your wireless mic, too excited about performing with Harry that you can't stand in one spot. The music and Harry's energy make you want to move. "You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it." 

"We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da!" Harry throws his head back, singing along in his own world and you can't look away from him. He really was a rockstar and getting to share the stage with him like this was an experience you'd never forget. 

"You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

There's a great pause in the lyrics where the guitar, keyboard, and drums play together, increasing the tension of the song. You and Harry take off towards opposite ends of the stage, both reveling in the performance for the crowd as you dance and stomp to the beat. Eventually, with a slide down the keys of the keyboard, the instrumental quiets into just the steady beat of the bass line joined by the hi-hats. 

You and Harry urge the crowd to clap along as you both return to the middle of the stage to sing together once again. He always said that this portion of the song was one of his favorites to perform, the repeated line from the bridge ending abruptly with the lights going out before flashing back on, the added theatrics of the performance elevating the climax of the song completely. Having rehearsed that Harry would sing the following chorus alone, you let yourself get lost in his gaze as it settles on you.

You stand facing one another behind the mic stand, once again singing more to one another rather than to the crowd. You step closer towards him as the lyrics progress, nearly chest to chest now with your voices sharing one another's mics. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm—"

Before you can sing the last word of the line and the lights can blink out as rehearsed, Harry leans forwards and captures your mouth in a hungry kiss. The crowd erupts with screams as the lights above the stage go dark.

You can feel rather than hear him say the words "I love you" against your lips and you have just enough time to repeat them back to him before the drums and guitar pick the beat up once again, the lights flashing back on brightly. He moves away and continues to sing the chorus that follows as if nothing had happened. You're a bit stunned, not having prepared for his relationship-revealing public display of affection to happen during your performance of his song but it was perfect and he knows it. Your smile is wide and you can't help but stand rooted where you are and laugh at what has just finally happened.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive," he sings, smirking at you while you blush across from him. 

You join him in singing the last lines, your right hand joining his left hand where everyone can see your fingers entwine. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it. We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh!"

You urge the crowd with a waving hand to join in and they do, singing along with you and Harry. "La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

The drums and guitar end the song on five quick beats and the crowd erupts once again in screams. You immediately jump towards Harry, throwing your arms around his neck in a close embrace. His hands wrap around your waist to hold you close, and you can feel him smile where his face is pressed close to your jaw.

"How was that?" he asks, chuckling against you.

"It was perfect, you're perfect. Thank you, H. For everything."

"Can take you on a proper date now, yeah? Wanna show my girl off to the world."

"Yes, please!" You can't wipe the smile from your face as he sets you down and Harry continues to beam at you as the crowd continues screaming, reeling from your shared performance. 

Harry nudges you gently before turning back to them, lifting his and your arms high in the air and leading you in bending for a bow. He steps away from you and turns, opening his arms wide to you for the crowd to praise and you laugh, tearing up at his gesture and the overwhelming emotions of the performance while you take another bow just for yourself. 

He pulls you into another hug and you can't help but angle your face up towards him, wordlessly asking for another very quick, very public kiss.

He glances down at you, smiling. "You're gonna love this now, aren't you?"

"Course I am. love showing them you're mine."

He leans down to peck your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips, as the crowd goes wild. "Love showing them you're mine. You've got a show to finish, love. Go kill it."

///

Ahh! So much fun! This has been such a joy to write and I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance! It’s my first (of hopefully many) Harry fics - reading all of the stories here has been immensely inspiring, and I’m so looking forward to writing more!

Tagging my love @morganlatte​ who is a wonderful hype woman and beta reader. Thanks buddy!

Anyways! Thank you for reading! My love language is words of affirmation (aka I have a praise kink) so leave me a comment here if you feel so inclined!

[urmindisastreamofcolors]

Greta Van Fleet One Shots: How You Meet

T/W: Mentions of a car wreck

Josh: 

It was an unexpected turn of events, but Josh liked to refer to it as universal intervention. Every morning you walked ten minutes down the street to your favorite coffee shop to get something heavily caffeinated before holing yourself up in your art studio for the rest of the day. This morning activity had gone past routine a long time ago and had quickly become ritual. You had found out that walk was a great way for you to start your day for sculpting with clay. 

One rainy fall morning right before Halloween, you were surprised to see four young guys milling around the coffee shop seeming to enjoy the atmosphere while they discussed various pieces of art from local artists lining the walls. A few of the pieces of photography were yours from when you visited the Grand Canyon a couple summers ago, but since then, your attention had been focused on pottery. 

After a steaming latte was firmly secured in your hand and a hefty tip left for the baristas, you began to make your way back to the door as you planned out your day mentally. Before you could grab the door handle, one of the shorter guys from the group with curly hair quickly held the door for you with a breathtaking smile. You hadn’t been into photography in years, but you would’ve died on the spot to have captured that grin on camera. 

You offered your thanks quickly as you your face was suddenly on fire. He had to of known you were staring, but what you didn’t know was the he had been staring since you entered the coffee shop. 

“Hey! Wait! What’s your name,” the young man called after you as you stepped outside onto the sidewalk. The morning light made him squint his deep brown eyes as he stared at you, waiting on an answer. 

“I’m y/n,” you answered shyly as you pushed a stray piece of hair out of your face and nearly slapped yourself when you realized you totally forgot to ask his. Before you could open your mouth, he had already beat you the punch and leaned back against the building with his arms crossed and a confident grin on his face. 

“So, y/n....do you come here often?”  

Danny:

The music was so loud that you were sure your head would burst. You could feel the beat of the music in your the center of your chest as you sipped on your drink. Your friend, y/f/n, was friends with a drummer for a pretty famous band and they extended an invitation to their house party to kick off their new album release. While you though Greta Van Fleet was a weird name for a rock n’ roll band, you did like their music.

Bob Seger blared through the house as you continued the search for your friend. The body heat from the crowd was coming off in waves and making you feel dizzy. You were just ready to leave, but you couldn’t leave your friend behind. A tap on your shoulder had you turning quickly coming face to face with a tall guy with long black hair who offered you a friendly smile.

“Hey! I’m Danny. I’m friend’s with y/f/n too! She’s been looking all over for you,” he yelled over the music as he pointed in the direction of your friend who was jumping up and down trying to get your attention. You and Danny laughed as some random guy with long hair and a pink shirt started doing the same thing to make fun of her. 

“That’s Sam. He’s my best friend. It’s getting to be a bit much in here, so we’re all going to step out for a few minutes if you would like to join. Unfortunately, I don’t know everyone here tonight and I don’t want to leave you by yourself,” Danny yelled over the music with a kind look on his face. 

“Yeah! That would be great! I was actually getting a bit overwhelmed, so I’m glad you’re here dude,” you shouted back as you placed your hand in the crook of his offered elbow. As you two made your way to the edge of the room where your friends were waiting, people stumbled over each other to get your way and were yelling and patting Danny on the back. A sudden realization ran through body as you felt your eyes widen at the idea that this was the Danny from Greta Van Fleet.

Sam: 

You and Ronnie had been best friends for as long as you two could remember which meant her brothers annoyed you as much as they did her. Throughout your high school years, you honestly didn’t have a crush on any of them but found their friendship to be as irreplaceable as Ronnie’s. 

Once they made their big debut, you didn’t see them often and you and Ronnie both attended different colleges. In fact, you had a once in a lifetime opportunity to study abroad and couldn’t pass it up.The miles between you and Ronnie didn’t matter and you talked every single day and normally face-timed too. Any updates on the boys came from her or Karen. You did miss hanging out in the garage on the weekends and playing pranks, but as the days turned into years, you didn’t think much more of it. 

Finally, you were able to go home for a much needed visit after your year abroad and apparently, Ronnie and the boys would be home at the same time too. Quickly, you all made plans to hang out at the first possible moment and you were jittery with excitement on your flight back to US. 

After taking a couple days to catch up on some much needed rest, you were finally able to go hang out at the Kiszka house. When you got there, you didn’t even knock on the door and waltzed straight into the living room like you had always done. Ronnie and the boys were sprawled all over the furniture with the exception of Danny who always preferred the floor. Hearing your entrance, Ronnie let out a scream as she lept over the back of the couch and literally sent you sprawling to the ground with her on top of you. 

“Okay-Ronnie-Ronnie! Let go of my neck! I can’t breathe,” you croaked out as the only Kiszka girl finally loosened her death grip and helped you up. All the boys got up next to give you a quick hug, but you noticed one missing. 

“Where’s Sammy,” you asked as your heard his feet hitting the steps on his way down. With a huge grin, he made his way over to get a hug, but you felt yourself swallow quickly as you willed yourself not to blush. Little Sammy had apparently grown up on tour and Sam was the one approaching you with his arms outstretched. Giving you a tight squeeze, you could smell his shampoo from his long hair and willed your heart to slow down. 

You had never had a crush on any of Ronnie’s brothers, but that had quickly changed in less than a minute. 

Jake:

The radio was still playing as you hung upside down in your car. Your seat belt was the only thing holding you in place. You could taste the blood in your mouth and salty tears and blood ran into your hairline. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you scanned your surroundings and tried to remember how you ended up in the current situation, but nothing immediately came to mind which made you cry harder. You were sobbing when you could hear voices drifting through the shattered windshield. 

Despite the pain in your ribs and the tightness of the seat belt, you let out a blood curdling screech that ended in hiccups and sobs. A few moments later, you heard hurried footsteps and gravel crunching..

“Josh! Call 911!”

“Damn! How are we going to get her out? Should we move her?”

“I don’t know! Did anyone get that license plate? She was ran off the road!”

The voices blurred together and your eyes felt heavy. They began to flutter shut when a guy with long hair and a worried expression stuck his head in your car from the busted passenger side window. 

“Hey! Stay awake! I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake. What’s your name,” he asked gently as he wiggled into the car and grabbed on of your hands. The calluses were a drastic difference to your soft palms and he absentmindedly ran his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“Y/n. It’s y/n,” you stuttered out. 

“It’s nice to meet you. Help’s on the way, okay? I’m Jacob, but I go by Jake. I wish we had met in better circumstances, but you have super pretty eyes,” he said with a soft smile. 

“I’m scared, Jake,” you said as a new flood of tears ran into your hairline. 

“I know. I’m going to stay right here. You’re not alone. I promise,” Jake said with sincerity as he continued to comfort you. 

On the verge of bleeding out, you honestly were wondering if he wasn’t your guardian angel. 

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Chaconne (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: You are an aspiring concert violinist who attends an audition for the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra, under the new direction of famous conductor Agatha Harkness

Word Count: 4.2K

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBNquKkKcF4

A/N: Hello! This is an AU fic heavily inspired by one of my favorite tv shows Mozart In The Jungle. This is going to be at least 3 more chapters, and I already have the second part done so it should be uploaded by the weekend. Also, I added a link to the piece that is heavily mentioned throughout this fic. It’s not necessary to listen to it before reading (or at all haha), I just thought I’d add it in for anyone curious :) Hope y’all enjoy! Please let me know what you think, and my inbox is always open for any questions. Also: I do not own Mozart In The Jungle...Jeff Bezos please do not sue me. 

You rushed through the bustling streets of Manhattan, silently cursing yourself for not getting a cab. Not that it would’ve made much of a difference; rush hour in the city was horrendous no matter what form of transportation you chose. But at least you would have been sitting in an air conditioned car and not running through the crowded streets. You tightened your grip on your violin case as you hurried across the street, destination clear in your mind.

You had been finishing up your final private lesson of the day when you received a call from one of your old college friends. They informed you to drop everything you were doing, not literally because that would include your very expensive and very fragile violin, and hurry down to symphony hall because one of the first violinists in the Manhattan Symphony had sprained her wrist and they were holding open auditions.

A part of you knew the odds of being selected from hundreds of the best violinists in one of the most affluent cities for music was slim to none, but you also knew you had to take this chance. It’s what you had been working so hard towards during undergrad and grad school, and it would be nice to have a more...stable job. The Manhattan Symphony Orchestra was one of the greatest and well respected orchestras in the world, and you would kill to earn a chair.  

You ran faster than you had in months, and made a mental note to add more cardio to your basically nonexistent workout regime because wow, you were out of shape. Rounding the corner, you quickly dodged running into other pedestrians and could see symphony hall a block away. Despite the burning in your lungs begging you to stop running like a mad woman, you picked up the pace and sprinted to the building.

Ever since you started playing the violin you swore to anyone who would listen that you would play in the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra. Your siblings would always ask for concert tickets to see their favorite band, or sporting tickets, but you always begged your parents to take you to the symphony. While your siblings hated it and complained how long and boring it was (and the outrage that they weren’t allowed to bring food inside), you were enraptured by the entire experience.

You fell in love with the sounds of Dvorak, Beethoven, Brahms, and Tchaikovsky. Sitting in the concert hall you waited in anticipation to watch the musicians who had spent their entire lives preparing for that moment; to pour every ounce of their soul into their instruments. Ever since the moment you stepped inside your first concert hall at the young age of five, you knew this is where you wanted to spend the rest of your life.

Shaking those thoughts aside you hurried through the building to where the blind auditions were being held. You silently thanked whatever genius came up with the idea of a blind audition, because you were a mess after running over twelve blocks from your apartment. Following the signs on the walls, you found the warm up room, but was surprised to find everyone packing up.

There were over a dozen people of various ages, and you noticed one of them crying. A woman around your age noticed your disheveled appearance and sighed. “If you’re here for the blind auditions, they were cancelled.”

You felt your heart drop. “What? Did they already find someone?”

“No, because the new conductor is a total psycho,” Someone else said angrily. “She kept yelling about how we’re all wasting her time and she’d rather have her pet rabbit play New World Symphony.” He motioned to the girl who was sobbing. “And she told Megan her tone was so bad that she would personally throw her violin into a wood chipper so no one would have to suffer through her performing again.”

The new conductor he was referring to was one of your favorites. Agatha Harkness. She was beloved throughout the music community and had many fans, but you had heard rumors of her hard work ethic and ability to make people cry in under a minute. You thought back to your undergrad violin lessons where one of your professors told you that your tone while playing Mendelssohn sounded like a dying donkey. Musicians were often times very blunt.

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“A bit?” The guy rolled his eyes. “This job isn’t worth it. I’m going to audition for the second violin chair in Iowa. It might not be as great of an orchestra but at least their conductor isn’t the devil incarnate.”

As the others continued to pack up, you still felt your gut twisting at what could have been. Feeling rejected, you left the room and saw the back entrance to the stage open. From a quick glance around it appeared the hallway was deserted, so you quickly ran through the door, violin case still in hand.

Time came to a stand still as you walked on stage and stared into the seemingly empty concert hall. You dreamt about this moment more times than you cared to admit. There was something so peaceful about being on stage. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and pictured a scene you had spent years dreaming about. Realizing the opportunity to play in this hall wouldn’t likely come again, you made the split decision to open your violin case.

Staring at your violin, you briefly wondered if this was a good idea. But, you silently argued that no one else was around, and besides, you did run half a mile to get here. It would be a waste to not play and appreciate the gorgeous acoustics. Plus you could feel your fingers aching to play something, anything, to let out the feelings of  disappointment from missing the auditions.

Gently pulling out your bow, you applied a generous amount of rosin before grabbing your violin. You took a few minutes to tune, and the moment your bow hit the strings you felt a shiver at how the sound bounced off the walls. You went through a condensed version of your normal warm up and played a few different scales before debating on what piece to play.

Although your friend had briefly explained the audition would be sight reading and then playing excerpts from Dvorak’s New World Symphony, the auditions were over and you wanted to play something else. It wasn’t the flashiest piece, or one of the better known violin concertos, but it felt right. Vitali’s Chaconne arranged by Charlier. You had originally learned the gorgeous piece during your junior year of undergrad for a concerto competition and it had quickly become a favorite.

Clearing your mind of everything but the music, you closed your eyes and began to play. Your bow swept across the string, producing the opening g-minor chord. The melodic sound rang through the empty hall and you felt your heart ache at how good this felt. It had been a while since you had the time to play this piece, but it was like it had been no time at all. Your fingers danced across the strings and you felt all the uneasiness leave your body.

While this wasn’t the most complex piece you had ever played, it required your full attention. The chaconne was structured as a simple sixteen bar phrase that was rephrased and dallied up with different techniques and melodies which made it easy enough to memorize, but hard enough that you needed to focus on the pattern your fingers made.

With every movement of your bow, every run you made up and down the fingerboard, you were letting out the pain and sadness you felt radiating through your body. It was hard to put into words how playing the violin made you feel, but the best explanation you had come up with was that it was your salvation. There was no sweeter medicine than performing. No matter how out of control life was, how bad things got, your solution was turning to music. It saved you.

As you neared the end of the piece, you felt your bow arm gently ache and you knew you had to have complete focus if you were going to hit the upcoming octave slides that led to the double stops of doom. Octaves were never a violinist’s favorite technique, and they were your own personal kryptonite. You had rather tiny hands, which made the stretch from your index to your pinky rather difficult on a good day. You changed the position of your hand to make the reach to hit the upper octave, but briefly winced when you realized you had fallen flat on the lower note.

You ended with a flourish of your bow on the final g-minor chord and let out the breath you had been holding in. You stood there for a moment, soaking in the afterglow of your performance and enjoying the quiet that radiated throughout the spacious room. Just as you went to clean off your violin and leave before you got kicked out, you heard the sound of slow clapping from within the hall. The hall was dimmed and you saw a figure sitting far up in the upper rows. The mystery figure continued clapping and they stood up and walked down the steps towards the stage. There in all her glory stood Agatha Harkness, the newest conductor of the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra.

“Not bad, but your octave slides could use some touching up,” Agatha offered as she stood at the bottom of the stage. “You tend to go flat on the lower notes.”

You felt your breath hitch as you saw the famous, and apparently very scary, conductor staring at you. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was still here.”

“Ah so you aren’t here for the auditions?” Agatha questioned, arching an eyebrow up at you. “What are you doing here then, breaking and entering? I’d hate to have to call security on you.”

“What? No, no I’m not...” You stammered, feeling your cheeks turn red. “I came for the auditions but I was told they were cancelled.”

Agatha laughed, and you noticed how it was more of a cackle. “They were. But believe me dear, I’m sure you would have done the same if you were in my shoes.”

“One of them said you threatened to throw their violin in a wood chipper. Isn’t that a little mean?” You pointed out.

“You did not have to listen to that imbecile butcher the opening of Mendelssohn,” Agatha argued, folding her hands across her chest. “Throwing her violin in a wood chipper would be the least I could do to ensure no one else suffers hearing that disgrace of a sound ever again.”

You stifled a giggle that threatened to escape. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

Agatha waved her hand in the air. “Maybe. But you,” she pointed a finger at you, intrigue colored her features. “You were good. Vitali’s Chaconne is a personal favorite of mine. Everyone always chooses to play Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D Major, or Mendelssohn, or Brahms, or something big and flashy. I’ve always preferred a more subdued piece like Vitali. Violinists don’t take enough time to appreciate the beauty of a chaconne.”

You stared at her in disbelief. Almost no one had even heard of Vitali’s Chaconne, but she did and it was her favorite. “Thank you, Miss Harkness. I-“

“Ah ah ah,” Agatha waved a finger to silence you. “I’m not finished. You were good, but not great. Your octave slides were flat. Your bow hold is giving me a headache, you need to relax more. Your vibrato is too fast, we need to work on slowing it down. Didn’t your teacher ever tell you that? And don’t even get me started on your opening chord.” She eyed the younger woman before continuing. “But despite all that, you have promise.”

You were speechless. She wasn’t yelling at you? “You think I have promise?”

Agatha nodded. “Which is why I’m offering you a job.”

“I got the position?” You smiled. “I can’t believe it.”

Agatha’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? No, don’t be ridiculous. You’re not ready to play with the Manhattan Symphony.”

“But you said you were offering me a job,” you repeated the words of the older woman.

“And I am. As my personal assistant,” Agatha explained as if it was the most obvious answer.

“You want me to be your assistant?” You said in disbelief. “Miss Harkness I’m not so sure if I’m qualified-“

Agatha cut you off again. “If you’re serious about being a violinist, especially being a violinist in my orchestra, we need to work on your technique. Natural talent only gets you so far my dear.” She shrugged. “And I may have just fired my newest assistant for being entirely incompetent.”

“I don’t know what to say,” You admitted. This certainly isn’t how you expected your day to go.

“I’m not going to force you to work for me, dear,” Agatha drawled out. “You can walk right out that door and continue on with your presumably simple and boring life.”

“And if I stay?” You prompted, already knowing what you were going to choose.

Agatha slowly walked up the steps of the stage and approached you. “Well then I’ll have my work cut out for me. As will you, darling. I’ll be working you quite hard.” You blushed at her suggestive tone and she smirked at your reaction. “Blushing already? I’ve barely even started.”

You cleared you throat before nodding. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Then let’s get started.” Agatha smirked. “This is going to be fun. Now, let’s take it from the top.”

Working for Agatha was interesting. She was very hard to read, and you could never tell if she was mad at you or if she was just in a mood. You had spent the past few weeks helping her prepare for the first symphony rehearsal of the season. Granted you weren’t doing much to help, all she was asking you to do was make copies of parts and to organize folders for each section.

Today was different. You entered the mostly empty building with a drink holder containing two cups of coffee in one hand and your violin case in the other when the sound of Agatha’s heels came click-clacking down the hallway. From the moment she rounded the corner, you could tell she was in a foul mood.

She was mumbling something incoherent but she stopped when she spotted you. “You’re late.”

You chose to not comment on the fact you were an hour early and instead carefully set down your violin case to hand her one of the cups of coffee. “Bad morning?”

“Hayward is an asshole,” Agatha seethed. “I had the entire season planned out but he thinks I’m not appealing to our investors.”

Well that explained it. Tyler Hayward was CFO of the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra and was a Grade-A asshole. You only had a few interactions with the man but they had all been quite unpleasant. He was less than pleased to discover Agatha had fired the assistant he hired and chose to hire you without consulting him. Luckily Agatha had all but kicked him out of her office and told you to come to her if he gave you a hard time.

“How is Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 not appealing to investors?” You asked in confusion. “Everyone loves The New World Symphony.”

“That’s not the problem. He thinks I’m playing it too safe with the soloists,” Agatha explained and you thought of the soloists selected thus far. You could see how they would be safe options, but who doesn’t love Joshua Bell?

“But it’s too late to get out of those contracts without losing money,” You pointed out. “Does Hayward not know that?”

“Oh believe me, Hayward always gets his way,” Agatha spat out, and you noticed she appeared to be growing angrier. “He’s still mad I was voted in as music director by the board instead of his choice for the position, so he’s punishing me. And now I have to deal with Maximoff.”

You made a mental note to address the first part about Hayward later when Agatha wasn’t as grumpy, but grinned at the mention of the famous pianist. “Maximoff as in the Wanda Maximoff? She’s-“

“A wild card and not the soloist I envisioned having,” Agatha finished for you, glaring at the mere thought of the woman as you both walked towards her office.

“But she’s an amazing pianist,” You argued, remembering the one time you had the opportunity to watch her perform live with the Royal Philharmonic. “The way she plays is beautiful, and magical, and-“

Agatha growled and glared at you, picking up the speed she was walking at. “And she has no control. She doesn’t listen to direction and thinks she’s always right. Her ego is her downfall.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Wow, that sounds absolutely nothing like you.”

Agatha let out a laugh but still sent you another glare. “Don’t push it, darling,” Agatha warned you as she unlocked the door to her office. “I am nothing like Wanda Maximoff.”

You rolled your eyes after she turned around. “Right. So I’ll take the Beethoven parts out to make room for Wanda’s piece?”

Agatha sighed and combed her fingers through her wildly curly hair. “Well I’d rather just tell the little Sokovian princess she’s not allowed anywhere near my orchestra. But since that would be frowned upon, yes put the Beethoven back. Her agent should be emailing us the parts later today.”

You set off to prepare the dreadful task of reorganizing each folder while Agatha studied different scores. She had her baton out and was mindlessly conducting as she went through the fourth movement of the Dvorak. Over the past few weeks you had started to fall in love with watching her conduct. There was something so mesmerizing by the way she could bring different pieces to life with the mere movement of her hands. You watched her right hand lightly grip the baton and noticed the position of her fingers lightly grasping the silver object while her blue eyes scanned the score.

She felt your staring and smirked as she continued conducting. “See something you like, dear?”

Blushing furiously you went back to your task of sorting music, but every once in a while you allowed yourself to take a break to watch Agatha conduct, and although she smirked whenever she noticed, she didn’t make any more comments. Eventually you finished the work and put the folders away while filing the Beethoven in the cabinet.

“Good, you’re done,” Agatha said as she stood up. “Now it’s time for my favorite part of the day.”

You internally groaned and realized what she wanted. “Where you make one of the interns cry and go get lunch?”

“Close, dear. But no.” She motioned to your violin case. “Come.”

This was your least favorite part of the day. Now, you were used to receiving constructive criticism, and even just good old fashioned criticism. Over the years you had less than kind violin teachers, and you shuddered at the memory of Stefan throwing a chair across the room when you only had three pages of Mendelssohn fully memorized two months before your recital preview. He kept yelling in Russian that he would not be the first faculty member to have a student fail a preview. Or the time Jacqueline caused you to have a panic attack right before your sophomore year concerto competition because she didn’t ‘like your stage presence’ and went on some insane rant, and then yelled at you more while you were sobbing. Ah, the fond memories you had of college.

But there was something so intensely nerve wracking about performing in front of Agatha that it made all of those encounters seem like fun and games. You weren’t sure what it was about the woman, but there was just something about her presence that constantly had you on edge. What made it ten times worse was that Agatha seemed to be aware of the effect she had on you, and did whatever she could to make you blush.

You took a few moments to tune your violin and roll your shoulders back while Agatha made herself comfortable in the audience, but you both knew she wouldn’t stay out there for long.

“Now darling,” Agatha called out from her seat. “I want you to remember what we’ve been working on. The first impression you set when your bow hits the string needs to be dominating. I want to feel like you’re pinning me down on the stage. Make me want it.”

You stared at her incredulously and shook your head, trying not to visualize what she just said to you. “Right...pinning...dominating,” You murmured as you straightened your stance and took a deep breath. Setting your bow on the string, you made sure it was positioned at the frog.

“I can see you tensing from all the way out here,” Agatha said in a mocking tone. “Do I need to come up there and help you relax?”

You knew her coming anywhere near you would do the opposite to relax you. “Nope. Just stay where you are!”

“Oh, are you the one giving orders now, my dear?” Agatha teased as she slowly got out of her seat and made her way towards the stage. “I’m just trying to help. You need to relax your shoulders, otherwise you’re going to end up with a hunchback.”

“I like the Hunchback of Notre Dame,” You offered weakly as you watched her stalk her way up the stairs, her heels clicking up each step.

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.” She closed the distance between you and put her hands on your shoulders. “You need to relax.” She examined you closer and arched an eyebrow. “And breathe, my dear. Unless you want to fall in my arms.” You had taken to staring at the floor of the stage until you felt her hand gently cup your chin, forcing you to gaze at her. “Am I that hideous to look at that?”

“Ha, you’re so funny,” You managed to get out before taking a deep breath, and once again tried to relax your shoulders.

Despite your best efforts, you still felt tense, and Agatha noticed it as well. Letting out a gentle huff she moved behind you and began to rub your upper back. “Jeez, have you ever had a massage? It seems like you need one.”

“That’s a bit above my current pay check,” You quipped and blushed when you heard her responding chuckle.

“If you’re asking for a raise, you’re going to have to do better than that,” Agatha replied, her breath tickling your ear and sending delightful shivers down your spine. “You need to let go, darling. This much tension in your shoulders will do too much damage to your posture.”

She hit a particularly hard knot and you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. You thought you heard Agatha mumble something under her breath but you were so lost in the sensation you didn’t ask her what she said. Agatha continued rubbing your shoulders and you slowly felt yourself relax into her touch.

“That’s it,” Agatha murmured. “Good girl.” Your eyes shot open at the praise and you heard her lightly chuckle. “Relax, dear. I could do this all day.”

Your shoulders eventually loosened up and you couldn’t help but groan when Agatha took a step away from you. “Quit your whining and play that chord,” Agatha demanded as she turned away from you, clapping her hands loudly. “I want to be wowed.”

Taking a deep breath, you fixed your stance before setting your bow back on the string. You were hesitating, and Agatha knew it too.

“Any day now. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” Agatha’s words were sharp but you knew she meant it as encouragement.

You let go of any fears you had of what would come next as you positioned your fingers on the string and rolled your bow to produce the g-minor chord. Your left wrist was loose enough to slow down your vibrato and you went through the first section without any interruptions from Agatha. As you began the next phrase you remembered what Agatha had told you about making it bigger and better than before.

“Always leave them wanting more,” Agatha had instructed her. “Make each phrase slightly different. No one wants to suffer through ten minutes of the same few notes.”

You added more vibrato for this phrase and changed the dynamics so you were growing in sound until you heard her calling for you to stop.

“Stop! Stop, that’s enough,” Agatha yelled as she walked back towards you. “That was...better.”

“Dare I say you sound surprised?” You joked causing her to glare at you.

“Fishing for compliments, are we?” She questioned, but eventually relented. “You’re getting better.”

You grinned wildly at her praise. “That was the nicest thing you’ve said to me so far today.”

“Keeping score?” Agatha mused, a smile threatening to tug at her lips at your enthusiasm. “Like I said, you’re getting better, but there’s a lot of work to do. I want to hear those octave slides and not feel like my ears are bleeding from your intonation. Chop chop.”

[wanou-dorm]

Dumb Hourglass Station Academy Event  idea

Hourglass Station Academy - @fumikomiyasaki So The Event is about “ Pokemon Killers “ Games or Franchises that Were said to To be Able to rival Pokemon or take its Place. So Evolunation Gang maybe We can Add @tsukikoayanosuke Melodiva go to Fuujin City For a Sort of Idol festival / Competition Upon here that Some Famous Idols mainly Peko are coming . Various Idols and Band not just From Evolunation are Finding important things Sabotaged costumes ripped upn, Music , Equipment,Make up artist and Hairstylists coming late . So They have to find Whose Doing this before something more Drastic happens.

Characters Exclusive to this Event(names Subject to Change )

Whistera (Real name Whisp Wimper ) - Twisted from Whisper from Yokai Watch . A Surprisingly Knowledgeable idol , She Specalized in Enka Singing giving her a unique voice , she dose have a higher than thou Attuide if you Boost Her Ego too much but a Rather nice Person baring that. She Forms a Group With Anya and among other yokai watch inspired characters

NyanNyan (Real name Anya ) - Twisted from Jibanyan from Yokai Watch , a Hyperactive Idol and A Huge Fan Of Evolunation’s Idol but especially Emma, She even Asked for her Autography . Anya’s high Engery and Loud Personailty tend to Put normal People off , Whisp’s is the only who contain her Engery , Anya and Whisp joined after thier Costume designer Yukine was Robbed and injured destroying the Costumes they had the making .

Agu (Agumi Kai) - (Twisted from Agumon ) -A seemingly Fiery and Hot headed idol on Stage off It She’s Kinda Shy and Skittish . Agumi is also rather Gluttonus . She doesn’t Exactly like being the Tomboyish one or princely and would like to Wear stuff like here friend Gabuko wears but her mangers says it would break thier Sterotypical Fire and Ice dynamics. Together Agu and Gabu from the Idol Group Omni

Gabu( Gabuko Yamato ) - (twisted from Gabumon )- A cold Ice Queen up on Stage , Gabuko is Actually More Tomboyish than Meets the Eye. She’s rather outspoken and has expressed the opinion wanting to look more Princely instead of Princess . She also says She’s doing this for her Brother who she’s often separated from due to thier Parents Divorce . Agu and Gabu join the investigation after thier Friends Hikaru(Gatomon ) and VV(Veemon) were injured by a Stage light almost falling on them during practice .

Omega (Real name - Luka Omnibus)- Twisted from Omnicron from Nexomon - Omega and Alpha Were the first two intial Suspect, do to how Bad thier Attuides were towards Evolunation and the others . Luka is Just Grumpy not necessarily mean, His Family was Poor and This could be his Shot to Get enough money to get his the rest Brothers and sister out the orphanage and living with him why wouldn’t he Try and Sabotage the competition . That is until He Tackled Greg out the Way of a falling set of Stage lights during a Performance and Luka was kind of Annoyed at the Allegation as why would he risk ruining his Chances to Gaining enough Recognition to get his Siblings out the orphanage By almost killing someone?!

Alpha -( Valor ) - Twisted from Vados from Nexomon extinction- Alpha is the Colder and more logical of the Two , Being the Keyboardist of Luka’s Band .After His Keyboard Malfunctioned , Alpha nand Omega suspected Emma or Peko Was the one Sabotaging things and framing it as an investigation as they were both near it before they went to practice. . but after Greg almost dying they concluded that Emma or Peko couldn’t be Responsible for the Sabotage.. cause You know I doubt they’d want to Kill Greg you know

I did want to Include Coromon and Temtem but they don’t spefic Mascots and have Played them. , I was Very Tempted to Throw Show by Rock in there , Yugi oh Im making a School for them so n

[scotianostra]

Another birthday, Happy 66th to rock guitarist Brian Robertson born in Clarkston on 12th February 1956.

Brian, not to be mistaken for the other Brian B.A Robertson, as played with some of the great rockers in music.

Brian attended Eastwood High School and became a musician. He studied cello and classical piano for eight years before switching to the guitar and drums. He played in gigs around his local area with bands like Dream Police, who later evolved into the Average White Band.

Thin Lizzy were looking for a replacement for guitarist Gary Moore and on the suggestion of their roadie 'Big Charlie' from Glasgow, they had Brian Robertson try out and signed him up on the spot, he was only 18 at the time! 

Robbo went on to play with Lizzy for four years, forming one half of the famous twin-guitar harmony with Scott Gorham. He played on five studio albums including 'Jailbreak' and the album 'Live and Dangerous' among others. Following the UK tour for Live and Dangerous, he left the band to form 'Wild Horses' with ex-Rainbow bass player, and fellow Scot, the late Jimmy Bain.

Following moderate success he was approached by 'Motorhead' to replace 'Fast' Eddie Clarke and went on to perform with them at Harpo's in Detroit. He was part of the line up for King Biscuit Flower Hour and recorded the album 'Another Perfect Day' in 1983, he left the band soon after, not quite fitting in with the bands style he was too "clean cut" for them.

After his next band 'Statetrooper' split, Robbo embarked on a successful partnership with his old friend Frankie Miller from Glasgow – recording the 'Dancing in the Rain' album and touring the US, Europe and the UK. The next period of his career saw him working with various people including Shane MacGowan from The Pogues, and Joe Strummer from The Clash.  Robertson lives in Essex, England when he is not on tour or recording in Scandinavia, where he spends a lot of his working time.

[into-the-daniverse]

NEW Arcana Update: Jamil Romance Tale

While attending one of Nadia’s parties at the Palace, the apprentice is formally introduced to someone new.

It’s Jamil’s turn for a romance tale!

Thank you so much @jilljoycearts​ for the CG art for this tale! I’m absolutely blown away by the lighting and details for this, every update made me so happy to receive!

Like last time, I’ll post the CG by itself tomorrow, but for now, read on to see the full version!

Note: There’s a few dialogue options within the story. They will look like the following example— Option A Option B Then *Option A* followed by the content for that choice, and *Option B* followed by the content for that choice. This *** means that you’re back on the general storyline!

Additional side note: This tale is written for a GN apprentice, as all the tales are/will be, but Jamil is still a gay man so just keep that in mind going through the tale!

Romance Tale under the cut!

As I walk up the last few steps to the palace, I take a moment to smooth down my outfit and breathe deeply in the evening air, sun slipping below the horizon. Nadia invited me to this party a few weeks back, and just the other day, Portia arrived with my outfit wrapped in ornate paper, a conspiratorial look on her face as she handed it to me.

The outfit isn’t Masquerade-level fancy, but definitely a step or two above what I would normally wear, and, true to Nadia’s expertise in planning, fits me perfectly. It’s a nice change of pace, as I expect the party to be. As far as I know, it’s just going to be our friends, some family, nothing too extravagant.

I reach the main doors of the palace, and they swing open before I get the chance to knock. The chamberlain greets me, and ushers me to the main ballroom, where everyone else seems to be gathered. I was a little late getting out of the shop, but no one seems to be bothered by my late arrival. In a far corner of the ballroom, a band is playing music and some people are dancing, Portia among them.

I spot Nadia by a drinks table and make my way over to her. Once she notices me coming, she turns from the person she’s talking to, and greets me.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” She looks me up and down, an approving smile on her face. “I see Portia was able to deliver your outfit to you without trouble. It’s to your liking, I hope?”

I nod, returning the smile. “Of course, Nadia. Thank you.”

Satisfied, she turns back to the person next to her, gesturing to them. “Ah, forgive me. This is my cousin, Jamil.”

I know who he is; it’s hard not to. He and his band are almost always playing in the town square, or at various bars around the city, and everyone knows they were Lucio’s favorite to play at the Masquerade for years. And when they’re not playing it’s still easy to spot him in a crowd; he’s even taller than Julian.

To be fair, at first glance, he does look quite different. When performing, he’s dressed much more casually, but here, in a basil-green sherwani with his dark brown hair pushed back out of his face, he looks like royalty. There’s quite a strong family resemblance between him and Nadia, though his eyes are emerald-green instead of her ruby-red.

“So, this is Dia’s famous magician!” Jamil grins, shaking my hand with a warm, firm grip. The other hand is holding a flute of sparkling wine that glimmers in the ballroom lights. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I glance at Nadia, feeling my cheeks warm. “Only good things, I hope.”

“Of course!” She shakes her head, giving Jamil a pointed look. “Unlike the rest of my family, I try to only tell favorable stories about my dearest friends.”

“Are you really dearest friends if you don’t have a few interesting stories to share? Everyone needs to know their beautiful Countess has a few flaws, helps with your image.” Jamil winks at me, and I stifle a laugh.

Nadia shakes her head. “I can handle my image just fine, thank you.”

“Of course, Dia.” He sets down the rest of his wine, holding his hand back out to me. “I know you just got here, but would you like to take a walk with me? I just need to clear my head a little and I want to get to know you, if that’s alright.”

I glance at Nadia, who smiles at me. “We can catch up later.”

“Alright.” I take his hand, and the two of us exit the ballroom, music fading behind us as we walk outside, making small talk all the while.

The gardens and the fountain are decorated for the party, flowers placed through vines and branches, and soft lights twinkle around us, almost like stars in the leaves. We sit on the edge of the fountain, and Jamil breathes in the night air, turning to face me.

“It’s true Nadia told me quite a bit about you, she seems to enjoy your company quite a lot. And I wanted to let you know that I appreciate that. It’s… nice to see her with friends, people she can speak about with a smile on her face instead of a grimace.”

His sincerity catches me off guard, but I can tell he means it, genuinely happy that Nadia is happy.

“I enjoy being her friend.” It’s the truth, even if the parties, and the clothes, and the palace itself took some getting used to.

Jamil smiles, shifting a little closer to me, our knees almost touching. “Now, I did say I wanted to get to know you better, but I feel it’s only fair that I share something first.”

“Please do.”

“I could share an embarrassing story—I’ve got plenty of those.” He pauses, then he taps his chin, smile turning sly across his cheeks. “You know, I’ll let you choose. Do you want to hear an embarrassing story about me, or about Nadia?”

Story about Jamil

Story about Nadia

*Story about Jamil*

“You know Lucio’s dogs, Mercedes and Melchior?”

For the first time that night, I realize Lucio’s loud, yet adorable dogs are nowhere to be found. “I know them.”

“Well, thankfully, Dia had them rounded up for tonight, but Mercedes specifically has it out for me, I swear. One time at Lucio’s Masquerade, I was performing with the rest of the band, as normal. As I was getting off the stage to rest between our sets, I heard the sound of nails scrabbling across the tiles, and the next thing I knew, I was flat on the ground, Mercedes standing over me, tugging at my clothes.

“Earlier in the evening, I had spilled some pomegranate juice on my clothes, but since they were red, it had blended in, so I forgot about it. Mercedes could still smell it though, and she wouldn’t let me go until she had torn one of my sleeves off! I had to spend the rest of the night chasing her around to get my sleeve back.”

“Oh no!” I try to sound shocked but can’t help the laugh that bubbles past my lips, picturing Mercedes looking very proud of herself with red fabric hanging from her teeth.

*Story about Nadia*

“I suppose you know how much Dia likes riding, hm?” When I nod, he continues. “Well, she wasn’t always as good at it as she is now, in fact, the first few months she tried riding, she was actually quite awful.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins. “We were taught to ride around the same time, and I lost count of how many times she fell, and how many times she would throw a fit and give up.

“But, to her credit, she never did really give up. She would take a break and try to look at it from a new angle, and then, without asking for any help, try it again. And it would almost always work. That didn’t mean it wasn’t still entertaining to see the perfect baby Didi fall off her horse, shaking her fist at the sky!”

I laugh despite myself, picturing a little Nadia in Prakra, falling off her horse. Yet, that she would still get back up was endearing, and just like her to do.

***

Shaking his head, he nods at me. “Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?”

“For a story. It doesn’t have to be embarrassing, though, it would only be fair.” He’s teasing me, but I suppose I can give in. It is fair, after all.

I dig deep for an embarrassing story, yet not too embarrassing, something that makes my cheeks warm but doesn’t make me want to vanish.

It seems to be good enough, as when I’ve finished, Jamil is laughing. He grips his side with one hand, throwing his head back as he laughs, a warm, full sound that seems to almost echo around us.

“I didn’t think it was quite so funny.” I try to sound offended, but it’s hard when he’s giving me the widest grin I’ve seen yet, face glowing from the water of the fountain.

“I’m so sorry, I—I really am.” He’s trying to collect himself but the more he tries the funnier it seems to get, and soon I find myself laughing along with him. “I just didn’t expect that from you.”

“Well, I’m glad I could entertain you.”

He sighs, finally calmed down, but as he goes to wipe a tear from his eye, leans too far back, and falls into the fountain.

“Jamil!”

I turn around to see him sitting in the fountain. He’s completely soaked, hair clinging to his face, but he’s started laughing again as he looks up at me.

“I probably should have gone a little easier on those drinks, hm?”

Help him out.

Jump in with him.

*Help him out.*

“Probably.”

I hold my hand out to him, and he takes it gratefully, being careful not to drip on me as well as he steps out of the fountain.

“Well, I’d better dry off.” He wrings out his sleeves, still smiling. “Would you want to walk back with me to my room? I have a few more stories to share.”

“Of course!”

As we walk through the halls of the palace, water dripping in Jamil’s footsteps, he shares a few more stories of his travels and the places he’s visited.

It’s amazing, truly, all the things he’s seen, all the people he knows. Everyone we pass by has some remark to make or greeting to give, and he returns them all effortlessly. Though, even as he’s pulled into conversation by others, he makes sure to keep his attention on me, introducing me to everyone we pass, and as we walk through the palace, I feel like I suddenly know everyone here, not just Nadia and my friends. Eventually, his hand finds mine, and he laces our fingers together as we walk, giving me a soft smile.

We’re nearing the guest hall when someone rounds the corner, almost bumping into Jamil.

“Oh, Cami!”

It’s one of Jamil’s band members, a woman named Camia. She steps back, taking in the water still dripping off of Jamil. “Did you go for a swim?”

Jamil grins. “It’s a lovely night for it.”

“Uh-huh.”

He explains what we were doing when he fell into the fountain, and Camia nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, did you mention the time you almost stabbed yourself while your uncle was teaching you to fence because you were too busy trying to impress that one kid—what was his name again—"

Jamil cuts her off, his cheeks dark. “No, I, uh, didn’t think to bring that up.”

“Lucky you have me to remind you.”

“Yeah, that’s the word I would use.”

She gives me a wink, patting Jamil’s shoulder. “If you ever want to know any more of those kinds of stories about him, just find me. I could talk for hours just about the summer we spent in Zadith when we were younger.”

Jamil rolls his eyes with a smile. “She doesn’t mean that.” When Camia doesn’t answer save for raising an eyebrow as she turns to walk away, his smile falters. “You don’t mean that, right, Cami?”

She calls back to us over her shoulder before vanishing around the corner. “Enjoy the rest of the party!”

This time it’s my turn to laugh as Jamil groans in embarrassment, and we continue making our way to his room. When we reach it, he lets go of my hand, and steps inside, already starting to shift out of his wet clothes.

“I’ll see you back out there, then. Save me a dance?”

I grin, giving him a wave as the door closes. “Of course.”

*Jump in with him*

Leaning back, I fall into the fountain, practically landing in his lap. The water is a little chilly, but Jamil is warm, and his arms come around me immediately.

“What did you do that for?” He can’t even try to sound stern as he starts laughing harder, leaning against my shoulder. “Now we’re both wet.”

I shrug, smile tugging at my lips. “It looked like you were having fun.”

“Well, it’s much more fun now that you’re in here with me.”

I stay pressed against him, and we fall back into our conversation from before, as if we’re not sitting waist deep in the fountain, both of our outfits completely wet. Then, after a few minutes, a breeze rustles the branches above us, and I shiver.

Jamil notices and rubs my shoulder. “We should probably get out.”

I can feel the cold setting in and nod, getting out of his lap to stand up, and we both climb out of the fountain.

He looks us over and chuckles. “Ah, what a state we’re in, hm? Dia’s not going to know what happened.”

“I mean, I could tell her what we were talking about before we fell in—”

“Oh, please don’t.” He glances back at the palace, worrying his lip for a second. “She’d never let me hear the end of it.”

As he looks at the doors leading inside, someone steps out, wearing a loose, red dress, long hair tied into a ponytail behind them. It’s one of Jamil’s band members, Leon, and he calls out to them as they approach.

“Taking a walk?”

“Something like that,” they say. “What have you been up to?” They reach out to touch Jamil and recoil when they feel how wet his clothes are. “What have you been up to?”

Jamil laughs, sharing a look with me. “Just hanging out by the fountain.”

Leon wrinkles their nose. “You’re soaked.”

“Would you mind drying us off?”

They sigh, but raise their arms, magic glimmering around them, and a gust of wind envelops us, drying us almost instantly.

“Thank you, Lee.” Jamil says, and they nod, already stepping past us.

“You owe me!”

Jamil laughs as Leon disappears into the gardens. “They always say that.” He goes to smooth a part of my outfit down just as I reach up to fix a piece of his hair.

He catches himself, taking a step back. “Sorry. It’s, uh, a force of habit.”

“An interesting habit to have.”

He smiles and holds his arm out to me. “Would you like to dance?”

I take his arm, both of us starting to head back inside the palace, back to the noise of the rest of our friends. “Let’s go!”

***

When we both face each other again under the lights of the ballroom, Jamil bows, and holds his hand out to me as the music begins to pick up into a new song.

“Just follow my lead,” he says as I take his hand. He guides my other hand to his shoulder, and his hand comes to rest on my waist, gentle but firm grip preparing to lead me around the room.

I nod, and he gives me a grin, fingers pressing slightly into my side as we start to dance.

As the music carries on, I find myself paying attention mostly to him. This close, he smells like sandalwood and vetiver, a soft, warm scent that seems to just fit him. There’s no trace of the water from the fountain left on him, almost as if it never happened, and every step he takes is full of confidence. He leads like he was born on the ballroom floor, gliding us past the other people dancing.

He hums along to the song playing, and when he catches me staring at him, squeezes my hand.

The song comes to an end almost too soon, and I can’t help wishing it had gone on for a little longer as he lets go of my hand to move his hand to my waist.

He presses a kiss to my cheek, almost on the corner of my mouth, and moves away, giving me a soft smile. “Thank you for the dance.”

Pull him back for a kiss.

“What about the other one?”

*Pull him back for a kiss*

As he leans back, I reach out to take his collar in my hands, and pull him to me again, our lips meeting in a gentle kiss. His hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his eyes slide shut for a moment.

When I let go of his collar, he slowly moves back, smiling at me.

“You’re welcome.”

*“What about the other one?”*

He stares as I tap my other cheek, giving him a sly grin. When it clicks, he laughs, and leans back in to kiss my other cheek, beard tickling my skin. “Is that better?”

I smile, giving him a small nod. “Much. Thank you—and thank you for the dance.”

“It was my pleasure,” he says, green eyes sparkling.

***

The rest of the party carries on smoothly, and though I spend some time mingling with my friends, Jamil and I keep crossing paths. His hand finds mine almost every time, giving it a light squeeze as he jumps right into any conversation, fitting in seamlessly, as always. As the evening and the party winds down, Nadia lets me know that she had a room prepared for me, on the off chance I’d want to stay the night, and I accept, not wanting to make the walk back to my shop at this time of night.

As I begin to head to my room, Jamil approaches me again.

“It was really nice to meet you today.” He smiles, and I return it. “I’d love to see you again—maybe spend some time in a more… private setting.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

He laughs but doesn’t disagree. “I suppose I am. What do you say?”

I pretend to think for a moment, as we continue walking, but my own grin betrays me. “I think that sounds good.”

I give him the name of my shop, and a day that I’m not going to be busy, and he promises to see me then, joking that neither of us will need to be quite as dressed up the next time around, in case there are any more fountains for either of us to fall in. As we reach my room, he takes my hand gently and kisses the back of it, holding it to his lips for a moment. “Good night.”

“Good night, Jamil.”

As he turns and disappears down the hallway, I close the door behind me, replaying the evening over in my head until I manage to drift to sleep, knowing that this is a party I will remember for a long time.

[wearehuman-after-all]

A short extract from a Daft Punk interview on Radio Nova from 2003 - Translated

The whole point of this interview is that the two interviewers play various questions asked by french journalists taken from other radio interviews and Thomas and Guy-Man have to answer them.

The interview is quite long and Thomas keeps answering with long phrases really hard to translate so I thought I would just post and translate the parts of the interview that I thought were funny for now, so there you go :)

Translation under the cut, I hope it’s right because I was tired when I did it and I’m not really used to doing translation anymore x)

Male interviewer: Second part of “the most expensive 20 minutes of the FM band” on Radio Nova with Daft Punk, the DVD Interstella five five five five, or cinq cinq cinq cinq it’s up to you, is coming out at the moment, we will go a little bit over you, Daft Punk, the film, but also music with a first question from Michel Drucker.

Michel Drucker: Does your first meeting leave you a precise memory?

Guy-Man: It was in high school, in high school... before going to class we-...

Female interviewer: Line up in pairs 

Guy-Man: Line up in pairs

Female interviewer: It’s line up in pairs 

Thomas: *literally laughing at Guy-Man*

Guy-Man: Before entering-... and uh I think Thomas came to see me, I was at the back of-

Thomas: The... the... the classroom

Guy-Man: No no it was before entering the classroom

Thomas: The row! At the back of the row!

Guy-Man: No, it’s not the row

Thomas: Uuuuuh

Guy-Man: Before entering the classroom, when you-

Female interviewer: When they make the attendance check?

Thomas: Uuuuh at the back of... the SCHOOL!

Guy-Man: No-...

Thomas: *laughing in the background*

Male interviewer: The question was-...

Guy-Man: A single file!

Male interviewer: The question was “does it leave you a precise memory?”

Thomas: Yes, I have a very precise one... No, no I have a very precise one... So I arrived in this lycée Carnot in 4e (equivalent of the 8th grade in the US) and Guy-Manuel was already there, and I come and sit next to a friend-... well someone I didn’t know with whom I started to get on with and one or two days later he tells me “yeah there’s this guy who’s super funny who does great imitations of Garcimore” and from then on-..

Male interviewer: Yeah from then on the logical consequence would be to ask for the Garcimore imitation

Thomas: Yeah but no I’m not finished... 

Male interviewer: Ah!

Female interviewer: Shit!

Thomas: From then on he maybe showed me his Garcimore imitation which wasn’t great... I don’t know if his voice had broken yet or not, I remember that mine didn’t break

Guy-Man: No, mine had not broken yet

Thomas: I don’t think that his voice had broken yet either, I was 12 years old and what needs to be said is that I was a full head shorter than him, now I’m a full head taller than him. So I looked at him like that and said “can you do a Garcimore imitation?” and voilà. Then we went to the cinema together, I asked him on a “date” to go to the cinema, and we went to see, for the people so that they will remember what week it was, we went to see

Guy-Man and Thomas: *at the same time* Génération Perdue (The Lost Boys)

Female interviewer: Oh!

Thomas: Uh... a film by-...

Female interviewer: Lost Boys

Guy-Man: Mmh Lost Boys

Thomas: Voilà...

Female interviewer: With Kiefer Sutherland

*****

Male interviewer: A question from Thierry Ardisson from his famous duo interview

Thierry Ardisson: Who pays the most taxes?

Thomas: It’s me because I produced a song called Stardust, so, it’s true that we share everything, but there’s Stardust which makes a little bit more [money] so there might be stuff remaining from that, from that time

Thierry Ardisson: Who does the grocery shopping?

Thomas: We don’t live together 

Thierry Ardisson: Who’s the most “soupe au lait” (an old French saying that literally means milk soup) of the two of you 

Thomas: *Laughs* “soupe au lait” what does “soupe au lait” mean, I don’t know

Male interviewer: Short tempered

Female interviewer: Short tempered, easily hurt

Thomas: Oh no, we’re not- we’re not-…

Guy-Man: No not really

Thomas: We’re not like that, we have a lot of flaws but we’re not really “soupe au lait”                            

Male interviewer: Thierry Ardisson

Thierry Ardisson: Who stays in the shower the longest?

Thomas: Uh recently I’ve been taking more baths than showers so I don’t know

Guy-Man: Me too, I take more baths as well

Thomas: We’re a bit lazy

Female interviewer: So you stay in there for a long time then?

Thomas: Yeah yeah we stay in the bath for a long time

Male interviewer: François Morel

François Morel: Uuh… do you sometimes go to the swimming pool?

Guy-Man: Only during summer and where it’s not a public pool

Thomas: Oh well what, what’s that… wait I go to the swimming pool sometimes however it’s annoying with the school hours and everything you have to go there from noon to 1pm or before seven in the morning, the kids piss [in the water] 

Guy-Man: I don’t like wearing swimming caps that’s it basically

Thomas: Ah yes but that’s a matter of style but we’re on the radio now we don’t care