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kaigarax · 8 months ago

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Orange Dreams

Uchiha Obito x Reader

Quote: “Fall in love when you’re happy.” & “Fall in love when you’re confused.” & “Fall in love when you’re sad.”

Memories 21 Years

When a boy does something stupid once it’s usually because he’s curious.

When he does something stupid twice it’s usually because of a girl.

Uchiha Obito, who had never really considered himself the kind of person to do something stupid until right now. This party was simply one of several that he had decided to attend that year and they had only just reached midterms.

Any other time of the year, Obito would have preferred to have just stayed home and watched television. Maybe invite a friend or two over to watch some television with him if he was really feeling up to it. But, unfortunately, he found himself at another one of the big frat parties because his friends had wanted to.

Well… one friend in particular.

And yes, that friend happened to be a girl.

And yes, he liked-

And now, he found himself sitting outside alone in the cold nursing a beer that he doesn’t really like the taste of. Thinks himself more of a whiskey kinda guy than a cheap beer man but he’ll take what he can get.

Anything to help to ease the pain of seeing the girl he likes fawn over someone else.

He takes in a deep breath to help ease the bitter taste of the beer.

The sky is pretty tonight. The stars are bright against the inky black sky and remind Obito of when everything in his life was easier than what it was now. Bring him back to a day when he was just a young boy trying his best to impress a girl he liked.

Well, perhaps not much has changed.

He’s still trying his best to impress a girl but he sure as heck isn’t a young boy and it’s much more than just a girl he likes. It’s a girl he knows for certain that he’s in love with. The girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with. And life sure as heck is anything but easy - though he supposes that love has never been an easy thing.

At least it’s never been an easy thing for him.

Perhaps one day, fate will choose to be kinder to him.

“Not your usual scene?” You ask as you take beside Obito on the ground, “don’t come to parties much?”

Perhaps not.

You’re a pretty girl, though not really Obito’s type. He thinks that he’s seen you around school? That the two of you might share a class or two? He’s not really sure.

You’ve got your hair let loose and it frames it in a way that makes you look pretty. Your eyes seem pretty steady, which means you probably haven’t had much to drink (or smoke) and your movements are sharp. Your clothes are a little more reserved than what Obito usually sees girls wearing during parties like this and you have an intelligent demeanor that Obito rarely finds in others.

He laughs, deciding to entertain you in thanks for choosing to accompany him on this lonely evening, “my eighth actually.”

Your eyes gleam with interest, “oh?”

“Unfortunately.”

“So did I just catch you on an off night then, Mr. This is the Eight Party I’ve attended this year?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’m afraid this is how I usually am at parties.”

“Then why do you come?”

He shrugs in response.

“Well there are worse places you could be,” you lean back your hands behind you as you stare up at the sky, “and worse situations to be in.”

He hums in agreement.

Despite the fact that there’s a respectable distance between Obito and yourself he strangely feels warmer than he had before you were here. At first he thinks it’s because of the warmth from your own body but quickly changes his mind - thinking that it’s more likely that it’s because of the beer in his hand. Alcohol warms the body.

You’re probably warm too though. Probably have a warm smile that would make people’s hearts race too. Obito’s own heart might’ve even fluttered if he wasn’t already so hopelessly in love with someone else.

“So,” Obito begins, “what’re you doing here?”

“Here at the party?” You ask, “or here beside you?”

He shrugs, “both?”

“Well,” you begin, “I’m here at this party because one of my friends didn’t want to come alone and I wanted to have a good time.”

“Not your usual scene then?” Obito asked, the words slipping from his mouth before he can even realise that he’s saying them.

“I suppose not.”

“You suppose?”

“I like to spend all my weekends differently.”

“Not a fan of repetition, I see.”

You nod, “we’re young. Why waste our youth living a mundane life when there’s so much more in this world that we could be doing?”

“Very true.”

“Do you consider yourself a man of pattern, Mister?”

Is Obito a man of pattern? No. He doesn’t think so. He’s not the kind of person to keep on doing the same thing everyday but he supposes that there’s not actually much spontaneity in his life either. And with having to go to school it’s not as if his schedule is very open to doing random things whenever he sees fit.

Perhaps one day when he’s older?

But probably not.

“I think I am.” Obito said.

“Oh?” You lean towards him, your eyes still sparkling as they had done before, “and what makes you think that, Mister?”

“I’ve been stuck in the same place since I was young. Stuck in the same position.” He turns to look at you and smiles, “and it’s Obito. Not mister.”

“Well, Obito, that sounds like a shame but if that’s how you want to live your life then who am I to judge?”

Obito finds himself liking your personality. You’re not so easy going that it seems like you don’t care about anything nor are you so uptight that he feels like he’ll be judged for having his own way of doing things. It doesn’t feel like the forced politeness that he’s used to getting from other people either.

“Hey,” Obito frowns, “you didn’t tell me your name.”

You nod, “I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Obito pouts in response which causes you to laugh. He thinks that you have a pretty laugh. The kind of laugh that lights up a room and gets other people to laugh with you. He also thinks that this is the first time that he’s made a pretty girl like you laugh. Well other than Rin and even then most of the time when Rin laughs it’s usually just a chuckle. Sure, you might be laughing at Obito’s expression rather than a joke he made but he’ll take what he can get.

“Names are quite important things, you know.” You say when you finally managed to have calmed down from your laughing.

“Hm?”

“Names give meaning to everything. A purpose. They’re curses and blessings upon the very essence of who a person is and will be.” You explain, “and, most importantly, they bind us to one another. Create a connection between strangers through a string of familiarity.”

“Well you’re awfully philosophical, aren’t you?”

“I like to consider it as being smart~”

Obito grins, “you’re weird.”

You shrug, “I’ll take it.”

Obito wonders if his life would have been different if he had met someone like you first? No, he takes that back. His life would not have been much different. You’re not the kinda girl that would notice a guy like him and you’re definitely not the kind of girl that settles for a simple kind of life that he wants to live. Among everyone in this world there are brilliant people that stand out above the rest. He imagines that you’re one of those people. That after finishing up school you’ll go on to be the kind of person that people write about rather than the kind that writes about others.

“You should try to have some fun tonight.” You suggest, leaning in towards him.

He leans down towards you in response, grinning playfully, “and how would you suggest I do that?”

“Well for one, drinking something better than this stale beer here would be a good place to start.”

“And where should I go after that?” He asks, his voice laced with a feeling of amusement. He thinks this is probably the most fun he’s had at a party without. And for once, he’s not hanging off of one his friend’s arms like the annoying person he feels like he always is. He wonders if it’s always been this easy to talk to people or if it’s just because he’s talking with someone like you.

Someone that can smile so easily.

Someone that he can joke around without fearing he’ll offend them.

Someone that doesn’t know about all the trauma he went through while he was young.

“Mm,” you hum softly, “maybe then you could go and confess to that girl that you’ve been in love with all this time.”

Obito blushes brightly, “w-what do you mean?”

Have you somehow noticed that he’s been in love with his female best friend all these years now? Was he that obvious about it? Did everyone know except for her? Gosh, this was more embarrassing than he thought it would’ve been. So much more embarrassing than he realised.

“Don’t worry,” you hum, “you’re not that obvious about it and I don’t know who she (or he) is. I guess you can say I’ve got an eye for that sort of thing for people.”

“Oh. I see.”

It’s so much more embarrassing than he realised, yet strangely relieving. Liberating almost.

You nudge his shoulder playfully with your own.

He nudges you back.

“You’ve buried your emotions,” you say suddenly, your eyes seemingly staring into his soul.

He swallows, hoping you don’t notice the change in his demenous, “what?”

At this point, he feels like there isn’t much that he can hide from you. Or maybe he’s never been good at hiding his feelings at all and you’re the only person ballsy enough to say it to his face. Either way it’s both refreshing and freighting all at once. You’re so different from Rin yet somehow so samilair in the same way.

He wonders what would happen if he were to brush your hair back behind your ear.

Would you smile in response? Would you pull away in disgust? Would you run away? Would you push him away and make sure to set a firm boundary between yourself and him like everyone else has done?

At the end, he decides to do nothing of the sort.

You reach into your pocket and pull out a necklace. It looks cheap, like something you could win in a claw machine. You hold the necklace out to him, “here.”

Hesitantly, he accepts the gift.

It looks to be a cheap locket of some sort.

“For me?” He asks.

“If you want it.”

“Will you take it back?”

“No.”

“Then what should I do with it?”

You smile playfully, “you’ll figure it out,” you give him a friendly pat on the back as you get up, “maybe I’ll see you around, Obito,” jumping off the front porch before making your way to the salmon haired boy that called you over earlier. His heart flutters in a strange kinda way as he watches you disappear off into the distance.

The salmon haired boy wraps an arm around you before the two of you begin walking off into the distance.

“Who was that, Obito?” Rin asks as she sits where you had been sitting moments ago.

Obito watches you disappear down the street laughing at something the salmon haired boy whispers into your ear, his stomach twisting into knots. He thinks that tonight is going to be something he remembers forever. That you’ll be someone he remembers forever - even if he doesn’t know your name. It’s been so long since he connected to someone like how he connected with you and he bets that it’s going to be a long while before he connects with someone again. Well, he thinks, at least he got to know you now.

Eventually, he answers, “just a girl I know from school.”

He stares at the cheap locket in his hand.

He wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to speak to you again?

Probably not.

Fall in love when you’re happy.

---

Someone You Loved Featuring: The Journalist

Uchiha Obito wraps his jacket around himself tightly as he stares up at the night sky above him. Sure, it was summer but the season of autumn was quickly approaching and the nights were getting colder.

Usually Obito would never go outside, much less on a night like this, but a few of his friends that he hadn’t seen in a while had been insistent that they meet up. It was rare for the four of them to actually be in the same place around the same time and even rarer that they all had a moment to spare.

They had considered going to a bar but something like this seemed a little simpler.

A lot easier.

If only Obito remembered that he hated the cold.

Oh well.

It’s a simple sacrifice for him to make anyways.

“Oh yeah, no,” Obito shakes his head as he tunes back into the conversation that his friends were having, “I haven’t gotten the chance to go fishing this year yet. I’ve been pretty busy with work.” Obito tries his best to give an apologetic look as his friends listen to his explanation.

Truthfully speaking, Obito has never actually been a fan of fishing. Sure he was decent at the skill. Had been forced to go on plenty of trips with his grandfather when he was younger but he never really enjoyed the sport. He knew enough to hold his own in conversation but not much when compared to his two friends. He just hoped that neither of them would ever actually realise that he barely had an idea what he was talking about.

Tokito Muichiro, a shorter man with long dark hair, nods, “understandable. You can’t always make time for hobbies.” Muichiro is wearing a lot less than Obito in terms of clothing but seems less affected by the weather as he wears a blank look on his face.

Many had always called Muichiro expressionless and perhaps even emotionless but Obito thought the man made up for his lack of involvement with his blunt and direct speaking - which then was also made up for with his subtle way of expressing his affection. Small acts of service instead of large declarations of his feelings.

The exact kinda person that Obito found himself getting along with best.

Second only to the flustered yet charming behaviour of Diez Drake.

Drake was a tall ginger haired man with a bold and domineering presence on the outside. He was unsuspectingly lumbering though and easily embarrassed. Wore his heart on his sleeve and never hesitated to point out when he thought that something was wrong. Obito liked that he didn’t have to jump through hoops to understand what he was trying to say or how he felt, certain that he would simply be able to read it by what was on the man’s face.

Drake hums thoughtfully in response to Muichiro’s words, “do you enjoy what you do for work now? I heard you recently got promoted from writer to editor.” Drake, like Muichiro, seemed unaffected by the cold of the night air. Dressed in something simple that barely covers him up entirely. Obito chalks up his warmth to all that muscle he’s put on. It probably does well to keep in heat.

Obito nods, “yeah.” silently thankful that the conversation topic had shifted. He really could only bear so long talking about fishing before he finally gave away how much he didn’t care about the topic. It wasn’t exactly that he hated fishing and he certainly didn’t feel pressured to like it from either Drake or Muichiro it’s just that it had been so long since they had talked about fishing that it would be weird for him to suddenly declare that he didn’t like it.

Too far gone for him to turn back now.

It would be like ripping out one of the staples of their friendship.

“Is it easier?” Muichiro asked.

“Some parts,” Obito explains, “while I don’t have to put in as much work on the field and have to do as much work running around like a chicken with my head cut off, there's a lot more management of people that I have to do. Honestly, sometimes I miss writing articles.”

Drake chuckles, “at least you get to work from home.”

Obito smiles in response, “true.”

The three men share a smile. Obito had been worried that their conversations would feel awkward and stilted after a few years of only talking online but they immediately fell back into the warm camaraderie that they had before.

It was nice for Obito. To remember that he had a group of people that cared about him outside of all the pain and trauma he had to go through when he was younger. Felt good to know that he was still capable of making connections to people other than the ones he had grown up with from childhood.

“Are you happy?” You ask suddenly.

The three men turn to look at you.

You.

You’re dressed rather prettily today, Obito thinks. Though more often than not he thinks that you’re pretty. Whether your hair is done up or let down. Whether you’ve decided to wear something light and breezy or dark and warm. He thinks it must have something to do with those eyes. Those bright and brilliant eyes that seem to stare into his very soul itself. Or, more likely, it’s your magnetic personality that pulls people in without you having to do anything at all.

Obito bets that you’re cold. You’re not dressed as cool as Drake or Muichiro but you aren’t wearing a large trench coat like Obito. Your clothing is somewhere in between as you hold your arms and legs tight together.

“Are you happy with where you are in life?” You clarify.

You’d been quiet most of the conversation so it surprises Obito that you’ve finally decided to speak. Strangely, Obito can’t remember if you’ve always been a quiet person or a loud one. He obviously knows how you act around him -you’re friends- but strangely he can’t seem to remember just exactly how you are.

He supposes that you’ve always been that way though.

Keeping a certain kind of ambit between yourself and everyone else.

“Yeah,” Obito nods, “I’d say so.”

Your expression brightens at that as you softly reply, “that’s good.” You turn to Drake, “and are you happy?”

The ginger haired man nods, “yeah. I reckon I’m happy with where I am in life.”

“And how are you Muichiro?”

The quiet man smiles and his eyes soften, “good.”

Obito’s heart starts to beat quickly as he watches you warmly. No matter how many years it’s been he thinks that you’ll always have such an effect on him. You’re not the first girl he’s ever loved and doubts you’ll be the last but he likes to think that you were his favourite. The one he would have liked things to have worked out with the most. But he knows, perhaps better than most, that that was never the kind of life that you were meant to live. That you deserved, more than anyone else, to be free. That, perhaps, you were best loved from a distance.

Drake speaks up, a teasing lit to his voice, “you seem awfully happy to hear that he’s doing well.”

“Of course I’d be happy,” you smile fondly, in a way that Drake doesn’t remember you ever doing before, “who wouldn’t be happy when they hear that the people they care about are happy?”

In truth, Obito is surprised at your words. Sure, he obviously knows that you’ve always cared about them but to hear you make such a… bold declaration is almost dizzying. It makes his heart start to beat erratically and his stomach twists in knots. It feels almost foreign to hear you make such a declaration in the first place. Not wrong, per say, but something close to it. Like you’re speaking a tongue that isn’t your own.

Muichiro hums approvingly as he readjusts your jacket so it doesn't fall off your chair, “good point.”

“I do always tend to make good points, don’t I?” You say playfully.

Obito has to laugh in response.

Contrary to what everyone else might say, you usually do. It’s just that your more eccentric and childish personality makes it more fun to say that you don’t. Obito likes to think that you’ve always taken the teasing in stride. That you let the other three poke and prod at you because you know it makes them happy. And it’s not as if they ever actually mean it anyways.

“You know, speaking of work,” Obito begins, “I heard that you have another collection of photos that you’re releasing this year.”

Drake nudges you playfully, “and here I thought you said you were done with releasing multiple collections in a single year after you did ours.”

Obito finds himself surprised when you simply smile in response instead of laughin and making a stupid joke as you used to do.

“You can’t decide when inspiration hits.” Muichiro says, filling the silence.

You give your fellow artist a thankful look.

Obito is almost a little jealous.

Okay, that’s a lie. He is jealous. He’s very familiar with jealousy whether it comes from his unrequited first love or this strange thing he has with you.

It’s always been like that with you though. Stolen looks and softened eyes. A gentle way of saying someone’s name and a whisper in the night when you think that no one else can hear. It’s how it’s always been with Obito too. A choked down emotion because he’s scared that showing too much emotion will scare other people away. That it’ll make him someone who others don’t like. That it’ll leave him all alone the same way it had when he was younger.

It’s not healthy. Obito knows that. But it’s hard to change the way you are when you’ve lived like that for three decades. He’ll try to change, one day. But for now he allows his heart to do that strange pang thing as he looks aways and tries his best to think about something else.

“So, who’s your latest Muse?” Obito asked curiously.

“The Athlete.”

Muichiro raises a brow, “no name?”

“I gave you the name that matters.”

Drake rolls his eyes, but Obito spots the fond smile on his face, “importance is all a matter of perspective. It’s relative.”

“When did you become so introspective, Drake?” Obito teased.

Drake blushes, “hey! I’ve always been introspective. Just because I’m not some big hotshot journalist like you doesn’t mean I don’t have a few years of wisdom on me.”

“You sure?” Muichiro teased, joining in.

“Hey!”

Muichiro and Drake bicker playfully while Obito turns his attention back to you. You’re staring off into the distance rather than enjoying the playful banter.

“Are you happy?” Obito asks, “happy with where you are in life?”

“I lived a good life,” you say softly, lying down and reaching a hand up towards the stars, “I got to live such a carefree and open life. Got to do so many things that other people never get the chance to and in such a short amount of time. Most importantly though, I got to meet so many special people.”

Obito blushes.

At the moment, he’s much too enamoured with your words to actually realise what you're saying. And when he eventually does realise it, it’s too late for him to question you about it. And even after that moment, when he’s long past the moment of being able to make a change, does he finally come to understand what it is that you might’ve meant.

And he both hates and loves that about you.

Like Drake, you wear your heart on your sleeve. Your face, giving away more than your words ever will. And like Muichiro, you’re blunt. Not afraid to speak your mind. But, there, you’re also a little like him. Never reveal all of what someone else wants you to. Scared.

Obito watches you curiously, as you pull out a silver compact from your pocket. It’s the same one that you’ve always carried around, he thinks. It kind of matches that silver locket you gave to him so many years ago. You hold it close to your chest the same way someone might hold a secret from the world. You close your eyes before looking up to the stars once again.

“Would you do it again differently if you had the chance?” Obito asked as he took a seat beside you, similar to how you had done all those years before; back when he was but a love sick boy and you an artistic genius waiting to be realised by the world.

“Oh, most definitely.”

Drake raises a brow, clearly surprised by your answer, as he takes a seat on your other side, “really?”

“Yes.”

Muichiro laughs softly, taking a seat in front of you, “what would you do differently?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d want everything that I didn’t have in this life. Every choice we make requires sacrifice. Giving up one thing in order to obtain another. And even when we choose nothing we still lose something. So I’d want everything that I gave up in this life in another.”

“You know,” Obito pokes your side playfully, “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.”

You grin playfully, “who wants to live the same life over?”

“Plenty of people, I imagine.” Obito replied.

“Hm,” you hum softly to yourself as your eyes scan over the faces of the three men that had been your friends for nearly half a decade now, “perhaps my answer would be different if I had loved everyone else the way I should have rather than the way I wanted to.”

Fall in love when you’re confused.

---

Orange Dreams

Sometimes, dreams are unfinished thoughts that our subconscious attempts to complete.

And other times, they’re the parts of us we had to leave behind. Incomplete and unfulfilled.

---

“Yeah, just follow my lead, okay?” You smile softly as you hold your hand out to Uchiha Obito.

Obito stares at you for a moment before finally, hesitantly, taking your hand.

He swallows deeply.

You’ve pushed your furniture to the side. The couches directly up against one wall and the dining table to the other. To top it off you’ve put the chairs on the dining table itself like how students stack their chairs in elementary school to make more space in your small apartment so that you can teach Obito how to dance.

A familiar song plays in the background of your apartment. It’s a little on the slower side of things and sounds awfully familiar to Obito, despite him being unable to name the melody.

It’s more melancholy than it is upbeat, though Obito accuses that that’s how most songs meant for slow dancing are played.

“Are you sure?” He asks once again as you place your hand on his waist.

“Trust me,” you smile playfully, “this definitely isn’t the first time I’ve taught someone how to dance and most certainly isn’t the first time I’ve danced before.”

“But what if I step on your toes?”

You laugh softly, “trust me, I’ll be okay.”

He swallows, “alright. If you say so. Just don’t get mad if I end up stomping on your feet accidently.”

You smile fondly, “only for you~”

He takes your other hand as you begin to lead him in a series of steps that Obito thinks make up the dance. At least once a year Obito’s family holds a big banquet of sorts. Usually about commemorating how great they are or at least something along those lines. It’s usually a pointless venture that Obito always goes out of his way to avoid - which he unfortunately was unable to find a way out of this year.

His grandfather, who had always paid special attention to Obito, had made it a point to make sure that Obito would be forced to attend. Something about making sure that all the money he had put into Obito’s education wasn’t going to waste and another thing about commemorating his big promotion.

Obito believed neither, though definitely leaned more towards the former of the two statements.

But regardless of how he felt, this was going to end up being one of the family events that he wouldn’t be able to avoid no matter what corner of the earth he fled to. Without a doubt, his elderly grandfather would find out where he was and drag him by the ear as if he were a little kid.

Which is how Obito found himself here, in your small studio apartment attempting to learn the proper way to waltz. Truthfully, Obito had no intentions to dance. His grandfather could force him to be there but he most certainly couldn’t force Obito to dance. It was just that when you heard about the dance and subsequently Obito’s inability to dance you had volunteered to teach him. And you had looked so excited that Obito couldn’t find it in himself to turn your offer down.

“How do you know when to move and when to stop?” Obito asks.

“You just sorta have to go with the beat of the music,” you explain, “every song has a flow. You just have to tap into that flow, you know?”

Obito nods.

You look up at him before raising a brow, “you don’t get it, do you?”

“I don’t.” Obito admits.

You laugh softly, “here, let me help you. This song has a four by four beat. The melody usually gives a few hints for the beat too. First look for a repetitive part of the melody and then that’s where you can begin your count.”

You pull him towards you as you begin to move once again.

“One, and two, and three, and four,” you say, taking a step with each number you count, “one, and two, and three, and four.”

Obito lets you drag him around the room in what feels like a sporadic fashion as you continue to count the beats of the song.

He finds a smile creeping on his face as he watches you attempt to teach him how to dance. He thinks you look absolutely adorable with your face scrunched up as you try your best to keep up with the beats of the music. Despite never dancing a single day in his life Obito can tell that you aren’t too good at dancing like this either. That you’re mostly flying by the seat of your pants in an attempt to help him which only serves to fuel his smile that he’s been trying his best to hold back.

You stop counting while continuing to lead Obito in the steps of the dance.

The music feels so much louder than it had before the two of you had first begun dancing. Reminds Obito of a dream that he had one day but can’t quite remember anymore. Reminiscent of that memory he keeps reaching out for in the breeches of his mind but can never quite grasp. A memory of a dream that slips from your mind in the morning.

It’s more of a nostalgic feeling than anything else.

Reminds him of a childhood he doesn’t remember having.

A girl’s smile.

His hand in yours.

The beating of a heart.

Slowly, you let Obito try and take control. The repetitive movements are easy for him to replicate. Simple and almost second nature to him at this moment. Though, Obito has always found it easier to learn things that involve physical movement over things that require more of a mental prowess.

He thinks that this is honestly probably enough for him to know the basics if he is forced to take to the dance floor. Thinks that maybe he might invite one of the now married girls he attended classes with back when they were young in order to show that he’s being polite but not interested in getting married yet. Rin, his childhood friend, would be the ideal partner. Not only would she understand his lack of skill in dance but she would also understand that there would no longer be any romantic implications when it came to him.

If there was anyone that he would have wanted to dance at during that banquet (made only to inflate over bloated egos) it would have been you. You make this strange process for him feel almost fun. Exciting. Keeping it simple yet still leaving him second guess what might come next; though that might just be because you’re a little clumsy.

Obito had considered asking you to attend with him but ultimately ended up not asking you at all. That wasn’t the kind of world he wanted to drag you into. Not the kind of people he thought you should know. Besides, in all truth, Obito really just didn’t want other people to get the chance to look at you the way he did. Wanted to keep you to himself, if just for a little while longer.

Eventually, the song playing ends and the track switches to something much more upbeat and modern. It’s almost, Obito dares to say, vulgar. It’s a stark constant in both genre and tempo to what had been playing before that Obito has to cover his mouth lest break out into a bout of laughter and giggles.

Okay, he still laughs a little. But it’s hard not to when your cheeks are hot with embarrassment and you’re scrambling to switch the song to something more tame.

Obito’s never been one to judge someone else’s taste in music but he can’t help but find amusement from yours. The contrast between the song and the person you like to display is so stark that Obito would have believed you that it was autoplayed if not for the fact that you had jumped up so quickly to change the song as if you already knew the contents of it.

Who would have thought that someone as sweet as you would like a song like that~

He can’t help himself as he walks over to you and rests his head on your shoulder from behind, “so you like whips and chains or are you just experimenting?”

“Hm?”

“Because I would totally be down.”

“Obito!” You exclaim, attempting to turn around.

He holds you down with his weight, his arms keeping you from escaping his grasp. He smiles coyly, “(Y/n).”

“You’re such a tease.” You grumbled.

“Am I?” He asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“In every sense of the word.”

“Really? Because I’ve always considered it to be more the other way around.” He chuckles deeply, “how does it feel now that the shoes’ on the other foot?”

You grumble in response, “you’re mean.”

“Only for you~”

You roll your eyes, recognizing your own words.

Your response brings a smile to Obito’s face.

You really are such a pretty girl, he thinks. Perhaps not the kind of girl he would’ve noticed immediately but most certainly the kind of girl that he can’t look away from. He finds almost everything about you cute, from your reactions to his teasing to the way you say his name. Slightly accented giving away to the fact that you’re not originally from the same place that he is.

Obito had never cared much to make friends with other people when he was young. Most of the other kids had teased him because of his initial clumsy and embarrassed nature and then had switched over to ignoring him after the accident.

The only two that hadn’t ever really ignored him were his two friends and even they had only originally tried to get along with him because they were in the same group. Their school would group the children in groups of three for all different group projects in hopes of teaching proper camaraderie and teamwork amongst one another. It would hopefully foster good relationships between the different clans and encourage them to look for relationships outside of their comfort zone.

Personally, Obito didn’t think it fostered much friendship between people outside of their designated groups but he never cared enough to make a comment about it. Their school was kind of already set in their ways. And besides, it was what brought him his two best friends in what likely would have been a lonely childhood.

And then there was you.

The girl that had approached him first and made talking with him seem so easy. And then you brought a small group of friends into his life, saying something about how all of them could relate over having complicated childhoods. Not that you ever divulged any of the specific information about the other two but Obito knew that if they wanted him to know they would tell him on their own.

It just… kind of felt nice knowing that there were other people that could understand what he was going through and not judge him for it.

“So uh,” you clear your throat, “do you think that you could lead the dance on your own?”

“Yeah,” Obito nods, “wanna try?”

He finally allows you to slop from his grasp but still keeps you within reach as he has his arms to either side of you as he leans against the edge of the dining room table that you’ve pushed to the corner of the room.

“Yes,” you nod, your cheeks flushed, “we could try.”

Gently, Obito takes your hand in his own and wraps the other around your waist as he leads you to the middle of the room.

“Wait, Obito! I haven’t put the music on!”

He chuckles, not letting you out of his grasp, “then sing for me.”

You roll your eyes but smile fondly, “you’ll be the death of me.”

“Don’t worry,” he smiles in response, “you’ll be fine. You have me with you.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow as you allow him to lead you in the dance, “and will you save me from all these horrible jokes you keep making?”

“No promises.”

You laugh softly, “what a horrible answer!”

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow playfully, “and here I was thinking that girls liked honest guys. Was I mistaken? Misinformed? Mislead?”

“Any more synonyms in that brain of yours?”

He grins, “misguided. Deluded. Deceived. Lead astray. Hoodwinked. Lied to. Fooled.”

“Well, aren’t you smart.”

“Only for you~”

You smack his shoulder lightly, “how long are you going to keep repeating that?”

“For as long as I want.”

“Well then, I’ll hold you to it.” You exclaim playfully, “the next time you say them to a pretty girl you better remember to quote me. You’re basically stealing my intellectual property, you know.”

The next girl.

Obito’s heart pangs heavily.

Though, he supposes he should have already seen this coming from the beginning.

You never were the kind of girl that settled down were you.

Fall in love when you’re sad.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden x reader #uchiha obito x reader #100 ways to fall in love #someone you loved

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reneesbooks · 1 year ago

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Damn I really feel you on that one Stephanie Meyer book with the parasitic aliens, like that premise was so interesting, why did she have to focus on the stupid love triangle?!

ok here’s the thing. i could fix her

edit: i'm putting this post under a cut bc it got SO LONG lmao. read at your own risk it's messy and obsessive and a bit unhinged

the movie got so close in some ways and fucking missed in so many others. on the one hand, ian in the movie was imo a lot more likeable than he was in the book. I’m attributing this to less dialogue written directly by stephanie meyer and the actor's face. on the other hand. jared was awful. movie did not fix him even a bit. only thing they fixed was the age gap but not even that was explicitly addressed in the movie. it was just assumed bc the actors looked similarly aged

I should mention at this point that I haven’t actually read the book in a few years but I read it so many times at age 13-14 that it was an intensely formative experience despite being a generally terrible book. I could still probably quote entire passages from memory. I’ve seen the movie definitely more than 50 times, including in theaters w my mom the week it came out. I watched it last week just for something to play in the background while I crocheted. I can and will 1000% quote along with the movie. fucking brain parasite book got me I guess

the book delves so deeply into the genuinely fascinating world building that tbh has influenced me to this day in terms of depth and creativity. that’s where the movie set itself up to fail bc the ONLY redeeming quality of the book was the world building. its perfect for a tv show so that there is time to explore what it’s like for Melanie to live among the souls instead of focusing exclusively on wanderers time among the humans.

ok the love triangle. here's the thing. it didn't have to be Like That. BUT. i remember my edition when i was younger (that has since disappeared but i have a new one on the way bc i miss my stupid parasite book) had a bonus chapter or smth from melanie's perspective after she wakes up without wanderer in her head for the first time and runs into ian and they both have this moment where they reach for each other and there is that moment of horror on ian's part when he realizes that she is not wanda and melanie being so used to wanda reaching for him that she doesn't realize that her body is doing it automatically. and it was just so interesting to think about how that duality affected them and i think the movie kind of tried to do that with the conversation that ian and wanda have on the cliffs but it just didn't make it happen in the right way. so like. having the love stories there are important for why wanda is even willing to learn to be human but the focus on them in the movie and its general failure to properly execute the most interesting parts of them are what kneecapped it imo.

anyway getting back to why despite that the love triangle is literally the least interesting part of this book. starting with the thing that drives me the most up the wall. the fact that the movie didn't include walt at all and glossed over wes's death makes me chew drywall bc that plotline made me SOB. wanda's time sitting at walt's bedside and comforting him through his illness is one of the things that really teaches her about the gentleness of humanity despite their perceived cruelty, and what makes much of the humans actually start to trust her. they see how she treats walt and realize that she has a huge heart and capacity for kindness. so when jared gets mad bc the seeker looking for her has caused problems, and she has the whole compound backing her up anyway, it actually has some weight to it. the movie flattened wanda and her relationships to the others so much it's so disappointing!! she feels grief in a way that's different from how she's ever experienced it before, despite knowing and understanding grief from her previous lives. she is devastated and forever changed by walt's death, and similarly by wes's. i don't remember exactly if he had a partner in the book but i think he did so wanda also had that experience of seeing his death devastate someone else so completely (and for her to be able to connect that to how jared feels about her being in melanie's body). so when she asks doc to let her die at the end, it's go so much more significance because she specifically asks to be buried WITH walt and wes!! she finds peace with death and understands it and wants to be with the people who taught her about grief and love and that just. i'm so unhinged about it. and it wasn't in the movie. chewing drywall.

this isn't like. a big thing. but it's forever a little disappointing to me that it wasn't in the movie either. bc the movie went a more "ethereal being made of light" direction for what the souls' actual bodies look like instead of the book's "segmented body with thin tendrils that attach to the brain of the host" description. this matters to me for a sad reason and a funny one. the sad reason is because when wanda sees the souls that the humans tried to cut out, she notes based on the vestigial feelers of one of the dead souls that it was a baby. horrible and sad detail that makes that scene 100 times worse. the funny reason is because since the humans know what the souls look like for the above sad reason, they refer to them as worms. which essentially leads to them calling ian a worm fucker and that's hilarious on a lot of levels the least of which being that it's true. like while melanie and jared and jamie go looking for a new body for wanda he literally doesn't care what it looks like and just sits holding her containment tank the entire time. worm fucker and proud of it good for him

i could write a whole other essay on the worldbuilding but i don't have my copy yet (and all the library copies are checked out who ARE y'all who else has read this book???) and i can't remember enough of it to really get into it. but wanderer's job was to be a teacher because she'd been to almost all the different planets (hence her name) so there were some glimpses of the fascinating universe of this world. the stories that she tells about the other planets?? unparalleled. wanderer tells this story about an ethical dilemma (among parasitic aliens lmao) because their host species on one planet burns another alive for its food source BUT they had recently discovered that the food source species was also sapient and intelligent so they were trying to figure out a way to handle the situation. that entire thing could be more interesting than the love triangle but instead it was like. a maximum of two pages about that planet and a one-off appearance from another soul that used to live there at the very end of the book. wanda tells the people at the compound about the underwater planet, and the one with the giant blind flying creatures that they call the Bats, and she mourns using the ritual from that species after the whole seeing the corpses incident. all of this gone completely to waste and for what!! for what stephanie!!!

another funny thing that i think might be better left in the book--when they take the seeker out in the book the human that was in there in the first place is so nasty and awful that everyone is lowkey mad at wanda for not just letting them kill her. top tier comedy ngl

ugh i also remember a scene where wanda is going on the long supply trips and sees a couple of souls with a human child who isn't occupied and is like. huh. that could be really indicative of a beautiful direction for humanity to go. could souls and humans live in peace in a real way? and then it's never really addressed again bc sexy feelings about two men oohhhh

so. is she fixable?

yes. i could fix her. a tv adaptation is what she needs. bc then there's actually time to delve into the thoughts and feelings of melanie and wanderer (and you could do that really well if you made a visualization of their shared mindspace--the book talks about how they put up walls against each other, and how they can block each other out or grab at control) as well as the worldbuilding and ethical questions. i have a whole three-season plan for fixing her so buckle up.

season one starts with wanderer waking up in melanie's body and the first half explores their time as a uni professor and the seeker's insistence on trying to find the human resistance through melanie's memories. this is where we really get a chance to see wanda's perspective--not because she's right, but because it's interesting. she is a huge pacifist and is horrified by violence, whereas melanie is used to using violence to get what she needs and tends to jump directly to it as a solution. so before they run off to the desert, when the seeker is still constantly checking up on her, as wanda gets more annoyed, melanie keeps suggesting that they kill her, and wanda has a harder and harder time holding her back. finally at the midpoint, wanda snaps and attacks the seeker, not because melanie made her do it, but because she's finally reaching that point in her journey towards humanity. and of course everybody blames it on melanie and they have to run because they're going to be separated.

then the second half of the season starts with the wandering through the desert. btw. book jeb my beloved. unhinged grandpa didn't get to be nearly as unhinged in the movie. the second half of the season is wanda acclimating to the human environment. i am of the opinion that romance should not happen until the second season at LEAST. obv melanie is pining for jared and wanda is dealing w that but it's not a romance. she doesn't love jared she's just comforting her dramatic roommate. maybe ian is starting to show interest in wanda but she hasn't noticed yet because she's still getting used to being human. season one ends with walt's death, since that's one of wanda's biggest turning points.

so season two opens with wanda understanding humanity a little better. and now she notices that ian likes her. melanie rightfully puts up a fuss about this (because it's her fucking body, steph meyer why did you almost make a convincing bodily autonomy argument and then fall short you almost had it--) and we can have that drama still while setting it up against the backdrop of wanda's journey to understanding humanity and ultimately becoming human herself. this is the first half of the season, and then there is the turning point--discovering that they've been trying to cut out the souls even as she lives among them. this is her major fracture with ian and is when she realizes that she can actually push melanie out of her head entirely and has to scramble to get her back. season midpoint cliffhanger is melanie being gone. and that finally brings jared around about her when he sees how hard she works to get melanie back and help jamie. so the second half of the season starts with healing jamie and how jared being ok with her changes the dynamic. now she's going out on raids, seeing how humanity and souls can live together, starting to come around to being in love with ian maybe, and generally settling into a comfortable existence. and this is when the seeker comes back into the picture at the end of season two, killing wes and being captured by the humans.

and season three. where it all comes together. the seeker represents the biggest obstacle to humanity and souls living in harmony--she is a mirror and a foil to wanda and melanie, two people too stubborn to let the other take over, unable to coexist. when she's captured by the humans, they want to kill her and her host, forcing wanda to come face-to-face with what she hasn't wanted to admit--she has to tell the humans how to remove a soul from a body. and in doing so she has to admit that she's been selfish and cruel by not telling them before. because by now they've more than proven that they can accept her kind under the right circumstances. so she's able to lay that out with the seeker and the first half of the season shows them starting to do it--to take souls out of humans and send them to different planets. the book does so many interesting things with this, showing how some people come back right away, some come back very slowly, some don't come back at all. there's a lot of material to work with (looking at you jodi and kyle and sunny) but eventually we get to the midpoint which is wanda asking doc to remove her and bury her with wes and walt. and then he does.

so the second half of the third season begins with melanie alone. and for the first time ever we don't hear from wanda at all. because she's in a cryotank and unable to have thoughts. so now we have what didn't get a chance to be really explored by the book--the aftermath of wanda's removal and the ethical debate of violating her wishes to put her in another body as well as the fact that when they do put her in one, it's one of the people who never woke up. it starts to get fuzzy here bc there's less original material to work with (and what is there is...not great the body they find for wanda is a 17 year old and ian is like 27 throwing up) and because there are so many directions to go after the book ends-- they find other human groups like they do in the book that also have a soul like her living among them, they try to work with the soul government to reach an agreement for peace, etc etc etc--and they're all so interesting! but the book ends because the love triangle has been resolved and it just doesn't address any of that. shaking steph by the shoulders and screaming

anyway the point of all of this is that this book and movie have been living rent free in my head for over a decade and i would simply like to make the good version of it that lives in my head real.

tldr i could fix her. steph meyer wya.

#listen i could fix her. i could fiX HER--#if i had the money and time i would be breaking down steph meyer's door begging her to let me do this. it's such a passion project for me #indie tv companies willing to work w the unions hit me up bc i'm not a scab <3 #the host #the host (2013)#rb original

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queenburd · 1 year ago

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hmm i am also thinkin abt the curator line “they need each other” …. something something, can a narrator survive without his stanley? just like a human can’t survive without food/water.. quotes in the skip button ending:

“One single thing I need -…- is to know that someone else is taking it in.”

“When you press that button,… the emptiness folds itself outward in between the two of us, and I am suspended in its unyielding quietness. I can feel the edges of my reality curdling inward and decaying. I can tell that I am becoming less and less real.”

so in the same way.. i assume that all of those narrators banding together would provide some kind of support, but. they’re all so busy trying to be heard, they don’t actually listen to each other. it’s just a big game of giving water to the man starved of food. each others’ company is enough to sustain, but it won’t be for forever.

which is why they go after stan’s narrator; they’re not 100% certain what he’s been doing, but surely he’s hoarding all of these stanleys to himself, right? why would he not hold onto them? where is he hiding them?

but there are some narrators too, that read the room and say “what the hell. the only people here selfish enough to hoard stanleys are the ones suggesting this.” and they form their own coalition which isn’t an echo chamber. they all spent their parables making assumptions on themselves and on their stanleys. this was cruel, yes, and basically a death sentence, but they recognize the self-loathing faster than a counselor in the foster care system. and some of them are still in denial about how they treated their stanleys. but they all recognize that We Need To Hear This Guy Out.

and obviously there’s a lot of infighting from both groups. it’s a high-stress situation, who wouldn’t be stressed out by the end of their life suddenly being a thing that is real and also is approaching rapidly. and there are plenty that just give up and let themselves melt away out of guilt or hopelessness.

so the hate group finally gets this guy. and he gives 0 fucks about them. which is frustrating since they did their best to strip him of his power, but he’s been heard by so many stanleys and they haven’t, so they’re still substantially weaker than him.

the sensible group of narrators aren’t able to even get a look at him. and so they’re busy scheming, but less than the hate group. so when the stanleys come to save the narrator, they notice sooner and they make a break for it. “there’s a lot to discuss, but first we want to help save your narrator.” “there isn’t much time before the others notice.” “we’re trying to hide your presence as long as possible.” “do what you do best—tune them out when they want you to listen.” “yes and that punch was deserved. i deserved that.”

the stanleys are suspicious. who are these fuckers with feelings and what have you done to our original narrators lol???? but they’re willing to go with it. how else would they have escaped their parables without trusting an unexpected offer for help?

you said you didn’t have a lot of thoughts but luckily i did ❤️ i might write smth about this au or the original au. still deciding. but my drafts folder is still overflowing so i probably won’t start until there’s a little more stanley stuff fleshed out. ok it’s my bedtime

THE PUBLIC NEEDS TO SEE THIS. I HAVE LITTLE TO ADD TO THIS GEM other than I have genuinely begun to wonder if any of the narrators, having seen this fellow, who theyve been trying to BREAK, just refusing to be broken, begin to.... wonder.

because again, and again, he just keeps telling them "you didn't take care of him. he only had you and you only had him and YOU DIDNT TAKE CARE OF HIM." and he's relentless.

"I dont get to be with my Stanley either, but god, at least in the time I had him I appreciated him. Our story was supposed to be about him finding happiness, and you all forgot that."

I absolutely can see some of them, who werent the cruel ones but were more invested in their story and in their art, starting to wonder "....was he right? did I forget why this was so important? did I--"

YOU HAVE SOMETHING HERE.

#tsp #the sparrow parable #reset the actors on stage #Parable Actors

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hrokkall · 2 years ago

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luke carder ?

@tasmanianstripes

My favorite cringe ass YouTuber

Favorite thing about them: This is going to be explained very poorly but I like how Luke is so blatantly a joke character who still manages to become very sympathetic the moment you learn more about him. He was supposed to be just a snobby annoying guy who brings his camera everywhere for content but his actor accidentally ended up making him too likable (and I’m genuinely glad he did) which really made the ending hit. He’s just some guy but he’s some guy who was trying to live on in his sister’s memory and now he has no one to live on for him. And he’s also a dogshit YouTuber. These two trains of thought exist simultaneously.

Least favorite thing about them: I love Luke but holy shit his camera dies at the worst times. I love looting through your footage as much as the next guy but I was in the middle of something (granted his battery is probably being sapped by Inscryption proximity but still).

Favorite line: I quote “Wow. Great video.” on a near-daily basis so that one’s my actual favorite, but I also love the lines he has when you beat Leshy the first time without the film roll and continue playing act 1. (Only posting this one but he has others like “Ugh, I’m so sick of this boss.” and an excited “Woo!” when you beat Leshy a second time)

(Bonus points to all the times he—fairly—responds to something with “What the fuck.” It makes me laugh if for no other reason than no one else in the game properly swears except for him).

brOTP: Luke and the Scrybes just because “completely normal guy placed amid the Weirdest People Imaginable” is a hilarious trope.

OTP: I honestly don’t ship Luke with anyone. I’ve joked about him accidentally making Inscryption into a dating sim before but that’s entirely a shitpost and (as stated prior) would just end in them all being buddies.

nOTP: Again I really don’t think there’s any ships I would actively say “no” to with Luke. Even if they’re not my thing personally I don’t actively hate any ships I’ve seen (then again I haven’t seen many).

Random headcanon: The elk-book in the background of his desktop setup is a card binder.

On a completely different note, I’d like to think that anyone who comes in long contact with Inscryption experiences (small) physical changes (as well as the obvious psychological damage) to sort of cement its presence as a “cursed object”. Nothing really happens to Luke because he only had the game for a few days. Kaycee, however—

Unpopular opinion: Are there any unpopular opinions to be had about Luke?? I guess some people don’t like him and think he ruins immersion. I’m a Luke fan in that case, I’ll stay solid on that.

Song I associate with them: I was going to take the piss and put something by Weezer but my de-facto Luke song is BAD LUCK! by Jhariah. Bonus points though to Making Up Words by Bug Hunter which is also very Luke (albeit more surface-level).

Favorite picture of them: Luke has a lot of fantastic expressions, but I’ll tentatively say this one.

#Re: Inbox #grimsgrumbles #tasmanianstripes #Ask meme #Not mentioned here but I’m also a fan of how one of his files is apparently named skrungly in the console port #I don’t have the console port so I can’t verify but I’ve seen footage of it existing

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random-writerings · 1 year ago

Text

Touch Me (Til I Find Myself) ~ Chapter 4

Word Count: 3.9k

Masterlist // AO3

Kris pulled her hood up as she approached some Kree guards. Keeping her head down, she slipped past them unnoticed.

She was scouting the other floors looking for Daisy while the others went back to work at Grill’s. So far, she hadn’t seen her friend and she was getting more worried as time went on. But Mack was checking the docking bays and Yo-Yo was covering Level Ten so maybe they would have better news.

She hadn’t seen Deke anywhere either, which was also concerning. She prayed that he had just slunk off back to his gallery. Hopefully, he wasn’t up to something.

She turned to face the wall, pretending to inspect the pipes as another pair of Kree passed her by. She was thankful that Tess had helped them blend in, even if the clothes did stink a little bit. The Kree hadn’t bothered to stop her as she wandered about, assuming that she was a Lighthouse civilian. But still, her luck could always run out. Tess had warned her that they sometimes did random Metric inspections.

Seeing as this floor was swarming with Kree, Kris got back in the lift and went down to Level Ten to report to the others.

When she got there, she spotted Coulson and May outside Grill’s.

“Hey,” she greeted them.

“Please tell us you have some good news.” Coulson sounded defeated.

“Unfortunately not. Nothing from Mack and Yo-Yo either, huh?”

“No sign of her,” May confirmed her suspicions.

Kris pursed her lips and inhaled sharply. “Great.”

“Got a new lead, though.” Coulson tried to sound upbeat. “Level Thirty-Five is full of Kree tech. Could help us survive on the surface.”

“And it probably has weapons,” Kris mused. “I’ll bet it’s a restricted floor though. No humans allowed.”

“We’ve got that covered.” Coulson smirked.

~~~

The three of them waited by the lift, keeping an eye out for Deke. If anyone could sneak them onto a floor they weren’t supposed to be on, it was him.

The elevator doors opened and Deke walked out, eating an apple. Coulson grabbed his arm, leading him to a quieter section of the corridor.

“Hey, come on,” Deke protested.

“Sorry. We need to talk,” Coulson replied, no apology in his voice at all.

“‘Say, Deke, how are you doing? You look really good. Can we have a word?’ See, it’s not that hard,” Deke replied sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause you’ve been nothing but polite to us,” Kris retorted, earning her a dirty glare.

“Oh, good to see you too.” His sarcastic tone was really getting on her nerves. “Where the hell did you run off to yesterday?”

“That’s my business, not yours, sweetheart,” Kris replied coldly, throwing his own words back at him.

“Huh, that mean I get to punch you now?”

“You can certainly try.” She narrowed her eyes at him. He held her gaze for a moment before gesturing to their clothes.

“At least you’re finally taking my advice on blending in. I was coming to see you guys anyway ‘cause I haven’t seen you in a little while.”

That immediately raised alarm bells for Kris. Deke had wanted nothing to do with them from the moment he met them, but now he was looking for them just because? Something was wrong.

“I was hoping Daisy was with you,” Coulson said. “Last we heard, she was looking for you.”

“Yeah, she found me. I was just with her a couple of hours ago. And it's … it's all good,” Deke assured them. “I helped her onto a lower medical floor. It's where we think your other friend is.”

“She never came back or checked in,” May told him.

“She said something about no further contact.” Deke shook his head, frowning. “Spy stuff. How’d she put it? ‘Silent mode’?”

“Going dark,” May supplied.

“Yeah, that. And I told her that you’d wonder and she said, quote, ‘Get out of my way. This is what I do. My friend’s life is on the line. I’ll figure something out’.” Deke recited Daisy’s words in a tired, long-suffering tone.

Coulson, May and Kris exchanged glances. Deke had lied to them about a number of things since they met, but this seemed to be the truth. Kris’ alarm bells silenced. Or at least, quietened.

“Yeah, that sounds like Daisy.” Coulson nodded.

“Sorry I don’t have her. I wish I did,” Deke continued, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“It’s alright. We came for you. What do you know about Level Thirty-Five?” Coulson asked.

“Every few floors, there’s a secure Kree level.” Deke looked between them. “Level Four is holding, that’s … where I met you fine folks. And then Level Seventeen is engineering. But I’ve never seen Thirty-Five. Why?”

“We’re hoping to find some Kree technology. Anything that’ll help us. We need to investigate the surface.”

Kris spared a glance at the boss. She wasn’t exactly on board with telling Deke their plan. Deke chuckled, thinking they were joking. When he saw their serious expressions, the smile dropped away quickly.

“The surface. Yeah, why not?” he asked exasperated. “No, yeah, it’ll take too long to get to the centre of the sun –”

“I know it’s an unconventional plan,” Coulson interrupted.

“What is exactly wrong with you people that you keep going places you are not supposed to be going?” Deke hissed. “Are you all very suicidal?”

“We have reasons,” May stated simply.

“Not good ones.”

“We do now,” Coulson said. “Virgil’s time in the Trawler? He was communicating with the surface.” He held up the recording device. Before Kris could warn him not to, Coulson clicked the play button.

“Virgil, come in. Do you read?” The message played.

Kris watched Deke carefully while May stood guard in case anyone else was nearby. She watched him freeze, staring at the device. As the message continued, his eyes darted all over the place, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. At first, Kris supposed he was surprised by the existence of people on the surface, like Tess was. But when the message ended, she was convinced there was something more. Yet another thing Deke wasn’t telling them.

“Those people are all dead.” His voice was hushed. “Kasius thinks they’re all dead.”

“I know,” Coulson replied.

There was a pause as they waited for Deke’s decision on whether or not he would help them.

“I – I need to go get a few things,” he said, still looking stunned.

“Oh, so now you’re interested?” May piped up.

“Those people up there … if we can find them, that’s in everyone’s best interest.”

He pushed past them and began walking quickly, as though he was in a rush to be somewhere. Kris, apprehensive about this strange behaviour, followed him closely. May and Coulson lagged behind a bit due to her injured leg, but they were still in sight.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Kris probed. “Helping Daisy, now helping us. What’s going on?”

“Are you always this suspicious of others?” Deke fired back.

Kris opened her mouth to reply with a sharp ‘yes’ but stopped. The truth was, no, she never used to be so mistrustful of others. But after everything that had happened …

“I just meant … do you know the person on the recording?”

Deke stopped dead. “Why would you assume that?”

“Well, you’ve lived here your whole life, surely you must have crossed paths with him? Or someone else who might still be alive out there. And, uh, it’s written all over your face.”

Deke schooled his shell-shocked expression back to a neutral one. “Look, you were the one who didn’t want to get personal. So just drop it.”

He turned on his heel and continued walking rapidly. Kris raised her eyebrows at May and Coulson and turned to follow him.

~~~

“I imagine it’s not as simple as taking the elevator down to Thirty-Five,” Coulson addressed Deke.

“No. We can’t access it,” Deke replied, putting on gloves. “But I can get us in below it, find my way in. I’ll call the elevator from Level Thirty-Five itself.” He walked to the other side of the elevator.

The top of the control panel displaying the floor numbers turned red as they passed Thirty-Five, beeping loudly. They moved on to Thirty-Six and it went back to normal. The elevator stopped with a clunk.

“You guys hang tight.” Deke grabbed his belt buckle (or Gravity Puck as he called it) and it lit up blue. The device beeped and Deke floated off the ground. He opened a hatch in the roof and pulled himself up, floating into the elevator shaft.

“You trust him?” Coulson asked as they watched him disappear.

“You know me better than that,” May replied.

“No,” Kris added simply. “Chances are, he appears on the other side of that door flanked by Kree. Be ready.”

They waited until they felt the elevator move again. The panel flashed red again before the doors opened.

Surprisingly, Deke was alone in the dark corridor. “Welcome to Level Thirty-Five.” He grinned. When none of them responded or even smiled back, he sighed and walked away. “Yeah, well, hold the applause.”

They searched the level, looking for anything that might help them. But so far they had no luck.

Coulson opened a door and Kris winced as it creaked loudly. The section of the level they were in was completely deserted, completely silent. But that didn’t mean there weren’t Kree nearby who might hear them.

“What is this place?” Coulson asked, keeping his voice low.

“Lab,” May suggested. “Maybe R&D.”

Kris suspected she was right. This room had shelves full of glass bottles and vials. Hopefully they would find something useful in here.

“R&D. That works,” Coulson said.

As he was about to turn a corner into the next section of the room, Deke grabbed him and pulled him against the wall, out of sight. May and Kris followed suit, listening carefully. They heard the faint sounds of movement and waited with baited breath.

There was a small thud and Deke reached behind him to push Kris further back. Even though the touch was faint, she still automatically batted his hand away. Her hand hitting the sleeve of his leather jacket made a quiet noise, but not enough to alert the Kree to their presence.

He gave her a strange look over his shoulder and she glared back. She hated being this close to him. At least May, who was standing behind her, gave her a little space. But Deke was so close to Kris that his back brushed against her. Kris was grateful that at least he didn’t smell bad, despite his worse for wear appearance.

They heard heavy footsteps receding as the Kree left the lab. Once the door closed, they continued searching.

“If this place is all science, then there’s gotta be something here we can use,” Coulson said. “We just need to find it.”

They spread out across the dimly lit lab. Their heads whipped up simultaneously as they heard a screech in the distance.

“Roaches?” Coulson and Kris asked at the same time, looking to Deke. Surely there weren’t Roaches on this floor? This was too far down for them.

“No,” Deke replied, but he sounded unsure.

They walked quickly through the lab, scanning every surface for some tech.

“Wait. What is that?” May asked softly. She split from the group, approaching a small containment chamber.

The others followed her, and Kris let out a small gasp when she saw what was inside.

“It’s the package meant for Gunner, isn’t it?” Coulson asked.

“Probably,” Deke whispered, not taking his eyes off it. “There’s been a lot of vacancies lately. Must be time to start filling them.”

It wasn’t tech. It was a baby.

~~~

“They’re using newborns as a commodity?” Coulson asked, disgusted.

“How do you think things are done around here? It's the only way anyone can have kids,” Deke explained.

“I’m sorry … ‘the only way’?”

“People don’t get pregnant anymore.” Deke sounded dejected.

“Super. And the vibe goes full dystopian.” Coulson sighed. “What did they do, sterilise the whole population?”

“We think they do it through the food so they can decide who has children.”

“That’s twisted,” Kris muttered, shaking her head. She wasn’t really a fan of kids and never planned on having any herself but to take that choice away from people … it horrified her.

“How long?” Coulson pressed for more answers, sounding angry.

The two men turned away from the baby. Kris, after one last glance at the child, followed them.

“They’ve always tried to control it,” Deke said. “I was one of the last ones that was born the old-fashioned way. Until Kasius decided that it was easiest to just –”

“Create the children themselves,” Coulson finished his sentence. “But why? Are they trying to diversify the human population?”

“Kasius doesn’t care about humans,” Deke responded. “He just wants to increase the genetic chances they turn –”

Dread filled Kris’ stomach. She hoped he wasn’t talking about what she thought he was talking about.

“– to Inhumans,” Deke continued. “They’re much more valuable that way.”

Coulson shot Kris a concerned look, silently checking on her. She rolled her eyes, trying to hide her growing unease.

“Oh, there’s a surprise,” she muttered sarcastically.

“Valuable?” Coulson asked, frowning. “Valuable to whom? Deke, what is he auctioning off down there?”

“You think he’s selling rocks? The whole process is pretty upsetting, so we try not to think about the details.”

“Wait, what auction?” Kris was confused. This was the first she had heard of it.

“Grill was making us work harder,” Coulson explained. “Said Kasius had guests arriving for an auction so we had to provide iron for him to sell. I thought …”

Kris swallowed hard as she fully processed what Deke had said. ‘Pretty upsetting’ didn’t sound good.

She turned to him. “Tell me he’s not …” she whispered, unable to say the words ‘selling them’ out loud.

Deke looked down, avoiding her eyes. That told her everything. Fear twisted her stomach. If Kasius discovered her or Yo-Yo or Daisy … They were in even greater danger now.

“Phil,” May drew their attention. She had been so shocked by the baby, she had walked away to inspect one of the computers on the lab bench. Now she was coming towards them. “I found something.”

“What is it?” Coulson asked her.

May glared daggers at Deke. Oh, that wasn’t good.

“Him,” May growled. She punched him in the face, knocking him back a few steps.

Deke rubbed his nose. “Okay. Ow,” he groaned nasally.

May stalked back to the computer and Kris followed her.

“May?” Coulson was worried.

“The lab got a new sample they’re supposed to use,” May clicked a key on the keyboard, “for Inhuman genes.”

The computer beeped and the screen brought up a profile with Daisy’s picture.

“Daisy,” Coulson mumbled. “And they’ve been holding her since yesterday –”

They all looked up at Deke.

“Is that what that thing says? Because if you –”

“– even though you said you were helping her this morning,” Coulson continued. “Why would you lie about Daisy unless you sold her out?”

“Okay, well, this is probably the part where I should explain,” Deke started.

“No. This is the part where May breaks your face,” Coulson retorted as May cracked her knuckles. “You explaining … kind of secondary.”

Okay, you’re mad. I get that.”

“Oh, we are way past that,” Kris snarled through gritted teeth. “Do you ever stop lying?”

“I have my reasons.” Deke turned to her.

“Not good ones,” Kris repeated his own words back at him.

“Are they using her for breeding?” May asked. Her tone was even but there was an unmistakable undercurrent of anger. As much as Kris wanted to beat Deke up for lying to them yet again, she was not going to get in May’s way.

“It seems that way, but that’s not why Kasius wanted her,” Deke answered.

“So you did sell her out?” Coulson clarified.

“Yes, but there’s more –” Deke was cut off by the door opening. Three Kree guards entered and Deke immediately jumped into action. “Hey fellas, we actually – we just got a little bit turned around. Uh, is this Level Thirty-Five? We were actually looking for –”

Coulson picked up a metal chair and hit the nearest Kree with it. It had absolutely no effect.

“Oh, okay. We’re fighting.” Deke backed away quickly as the Kree attacked them.

One Kree swung his axe at May while another went to punch Coulson. The third guard stalked straight toward Deke.

Kris intercepted him. She punched his jaw, but it seemed to hurt her more than it hurt him. He turned his attention away from Deke, concentrating only on Kris now.

The Kree snarled and took a swing at her. She ducked, delivering a swift uppercut to his chin. She skirted around him, and turned, using her momentum to kick him in the back. His knees buckled momentarily but he recovered. He swung at her again but she blocked it, their forearms connecting. She lashed out with her free arm and hit him in the stomach, winding him. He stumbled back while she advanced.

She threw another punch at his face, but he caught it this time, twisting her wrist painfully. She cried out but was quickly silenced. The Kree wrapped his free hand around her throat, lifting her off the ground as he choked her.

She kicked his chest as hard as she could but he didn’t move. She grabbed his outstretched arm and pulled herself up to kick again. His fingers squeezed her neck painfully and she sputtered. Her hair came loose as she struggled, falling in blonde waves around her shoulders. Black spots appeared at the edges of her vision as she clawed at his hand.

Without fully meaning to, she used her powers. The Kree roared as pain coursed through his entire body. His grip went slack and Kris dropped to the ground, gasping. She recovered quickly, standing up and tossing her hair out of her face. She continued to cause the guard pain, standing over him while he fell to his knees. Because of her distress, she was causing him more pain than she intended, but it seemed to be working so she didn’t stop.

He reached out again, flailing at her. She swiftly stepped out of his reach then kicked him in the head, hitting his temples with the sole of her boot. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

She turned, panting, to see Deke staring at her in amazement. She quickly checked him over and, after determining he was alright, spun to see how she could help the others. Coulson was being strangled by his opponent so she rushed over to him.

But Deke, shaken out of his daze, got there first. He grabbed a metal tray from the bench and smacked the Kree over the head. The impact knocked the Kree to his knees, but he swiftly pulled out a knife and stabbed Deke.

May, who had defeated her opponent, used the Kree axe to knock the knife out of the guard’s hand. Coulson punched him then May kicked him in quick succession. He fell backwards, shattering a glass wall.

Kris rushed over to Deke, checking his injury. He was lying on the floor, groaning. He looked up at her.

“You’re an Inhuman,” he choked out. “Knew you were a massive target on my back.”

“Hey, watch it,” Coulson warned him. “We’re trying to help you.”

They dragged Deke to his feet, helping him hobble away from the lab. As they were attempting to leave, the door opened again.

“More Kreepers.” Deke grimaced.

“Phil, Kris, you take Deke upstairs. Make him talk. I’ll hold them off,” May ordered.

Coulson caught her arm. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Go,” she insisted.

“May. Your leg. You’re still not one hundred percent.”

“I’ll stay,” Kris offered.

“No,” May said sternly. “If they catch you –”

“They won’t. I’ve got you here,” Kris insisted.

May stared at her for a moment before nodding slightly, allowing her to stay.

“Hang on –” Coulson tried.

“We’ve got this,” May assured him. “Go.”

As Coulson and Deke stumbled away, Kris heard Deke instructing Coulson where to go.

“Level Twenty… nearest medical level.”

There was another thud and the women turned around to face whatever threat was coming. May held up the axe while Kris took up her ready stance next to her.

A female Kree entered this time, her black hair falling in a long braid down her back. She was playing with something in her hand – two metal spheres. They began to float, spinning around each other rapidly. The woman sent them hurtling towards May and Kris.

May flipped, causing the orbs to miss her, and kicked the Kree. Kris ducked to avoid the orbs then sprang into action. She rushed to the other side of the room, grabbing the discarded knife. It was a strangely smooth material, but her gloves allowed her to get a good grip on it.

May hit the Kree with the axe and her head snapped to the side. She turned back to face May then summoned the spheres. They smashed into something on one of the benches but Kris was too preoccupied with the fight to care what it was.

May lunged again but the woman grabbed the axe and pulled her off balance. Kris approached from behind, knife raised but the woman kicked out. Her foot connected with Kris’ stomach, sending her reeling back.

The woman raised her leg to kick again, this time at May. May ducked just in time but the woman still managed to knock the axe out of her hand.

May stumbled back, raising her fists. The Kree dropped low and punched her. Then she jumped up and kicked May back into a bench. May rolled off the bench, landing on the ground.

Kris ran at the Kree again. She punched her side, and sliced at her back with the knife. The woman whipped around and swept Kris’ legs out from under her. Kris landed awkwardly, grunting as her arm and back took the brunt of the fall. The knife clattered away across the floor, out of reach.

Kris and May recovered quickly, getting back up without hesitation. May aimed a kick at the woman’s head, but she blocked it. She tried to punch May but she blocked that. May swung at her again, which the woman dodged. But it was just a distraction for May to kick her, sending her flying back.

May cried out in pain, clutching her injured leg. This was exploited by the Kree, who grabbed her by the neck. She lifted May up and threw her over her head, smacking her down on a metal table.

May yelled in pain again as she hit the table then the floor. Kris tackled the Kree woman, slamming her into the wall. She grappled to free her arms then pressed her forearm against the woman’s windpipe. The woman snarled and headbutted her. Kris stepped back slightly, blinking, but she was given no time to recover. The woman backhanded her, her knuckles connecting with Kris’ temple.

Kris fell to the ground, hitting the other side of her head. She rolled over, gazing blearily at May, trying to fight the darkness crowding her vision. She pushed herself up but that made her head spin and she collapsed again. She saw the woman summon one of her spheres, holding it up as she towered over May.

May coughed and struggled to stand up. Her back hit the wall as the woman advanced threateningly.

“May …” Kris managed to whisper before she blacked out.

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag // @arrthurpendragon // @mischiefmanaged71

(If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, feel free to send me a message)

#my ocs #agents of shield #agents of shield fanfic #deke shaw #deke shaw fanfic #deke shaw x oc #oc: kris fletcher #fic: touch me (til i find myself)

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rynekins · 1 year ago

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Welcome back to the Sideshow Bob Awards!

If you missed Part 1, that’s where I go over the results for a few polls I had for Funniest Episode, Best Animation, and Best Quote.

This time, let us begin with the results for Best Song. This category had not just the most votes, but the most diverse votes. Sideshow Bob fans might not be able to agree on his best song, but we all can agree that Kelsey Grammer has a wonderful singing voice, and the character simply would not be the same without it. I am happy to say that Hullaba-Lula takes Honorable Mention. If it wasn’t cut from Day of the Jackanapes it might have gotten a lot more votes, because this funny and twisted version of Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Da would have been a treat to see animated. Alas, the nostalgia factor may not be at play here, as most would have heard of this song years after the fact. If you are a Sideshow Bob fan but haven’t heard this little ditty, definitely look it up, you’re missing out.

In Third Place we have The Very Reason That I Live, from The Great Louse Detective. In this parody of I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face from My Fair Lady, Bob realizes he can’t kill Bart. Why? Well, what would he do with his archenemy gone? How formidable could he have been if he could die so easily? He’s been so obsessed with revenge for so long, crafted this identity of a criminal genius, he sees no satisfaction with it having to end. Not gonna lie, there are some lyrics here that are particularly creepy and I think have had a negative impact on how some fans and some writers interpret the character going forward. I don’t think it was intentional, but it is unfortunate. Don’t get me wrong, I do love the song (it’s my personal favorite episode). I think it was very important to his character and I choose to keep this takeaway: Bob feels conflicted about being a villain. He’s been the hero before, and he knows how good that feels. At the end of this song he runs away to attempt once again to start his life over. We had seen him try to reform before and we will see it happen again, but the universe conspires against him. This is ultimately what had endeared him to me so long ago. It is however a strange choice. Earlier in the episode they were talking about putting on the musical Man of La Mancha. They probably should have either done a parody of a song from that or mentioned My Fair Lady instead. Late script change? This is also a rare case of Family Guy doing it first. Stewie sings I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face in the episode Running Mates, which aired two years prior. Honestly, it fits Stewie better, given that Stewie’s mannerisms are somewhat based on the actor who stars in My Fair Lady, Rex Harrison. Stewie’s version doesn’t change any lyrics, so Bob’s version is more transformative.

Somethin’ Stupid takes Second Place, a duet between Bob and Selma on karaoke night, and a parody of Somethin’ Stupid by Frank and Nancy Sinatra. It’s incredibly sweet, but also silly as we hear Bob's dulcet tones alongside Selma's raspy voice, and see a montage of them doing sappy couple things together. I adore that bit of animation of them running through the flowers. I can imagine that any Sideshow Bob lover would DIE to have him sing this song to them. The question is if Bob was singing this in earnest. We know he is a performer and fully capable of making someone, including us, believe his love is genuine. We also know how the episode ends and how he callously sings a reprise to himself with more macabre lyrics. Despite this, I do believe he loved Selma, at least at first. It was a time when both of them were desperate for human companionship and they felt lucky to have found eachother. I believe it was after he realized he wasn’t the most important man in her life that his feelings turned bitter, and the evil scheming began. And maybe that wasn’t what the writers intended. Maybe he was evil from the start of the relationship (though some actions would then not make sense) and maybe Bob coulda fooled me like everybody else. But maybe it’s fiction and I can remember it however I want, and I want to remember this as a cute moment. Because it is. Do I ship it? Maybe.

Once again, Cape Feare wins gold with excerpts from the HMS Pinafore. We start with Bob excitedly singing We Sail the Ocean Blue, drift in to I’m Called Little Buttercup as he wears a thrown together costume of a mop and shower curtain, Bart joins in for I am the Captain of the Pinafore (where did they get those set props and costumes?), and ending with the iconic look of Captain Bob during He is an Englishman. This scene has everything. It’s absurd, expressively animated, 4th wall breaking, and tense. Bob and Bart’s dynamic here is perfect, showing their rivalry to be something terrifying one second and yet cartoonishly hilarious the next. Bart knows Bob so well that he makes one of the smartest moves he’s ever thought of and plays to Bob’s ego. Then we are treated to a range of beautiful melodies with a comedic touch, a perfect balance from Kelsey Grammer. As many times as this scene gets a call back, Bob would never again let his love of Gilbert and Sullivan be used against him. Going out on a high note, he continues to sing to himself for his own enjoyment, and has since learned to weaponize his gift of song on occasion.

Humor, animation, and song. These are the ingredients chosen that make the perfect Sideshow Bob episode. But an extra ingredient added to the concoction: Mystery, elevates an episode to another level of fun, engagement, and intrigue. Erm, spoiler alert. An element of Mystery isn’t exclusive to Sideshow Bob episodes, but during a season of The Simpsons, if there was one episode that was a who-dun-it or how-dun-it or dramatic reveal, often making use of the Bart and Lisa Detective Duo, the honor would usually go to a Sideshow Bob related scheme. How appropriate that for this category, we have a dramatic twist: I have no Honorable Mention, for three episodes are tied for Third Place! Krusty Gets Busted, Cape Feare, and The Great Louse Detective.

The Great Louse Detective does have a decent set up of clues though very few suspects. The real twist is who the perpetrator really is, based on a character that was only in one episode many seasons prior. It’s possible to enjoy this ending without extensive Simpsons trivia knowledge, but some math related issues with the timeline do make the decision to include this character look poorly implemented. Cape Feare’s mystery is revealed before the first commercial break, though it is a very dramatic reveal and a rather pivotal moment for Bob’s character. The jokes leading up to it are pretty funny.

Krusty Gets Busted should ultimately take the title of Third Place, at least. Being the first Bob episode, and incorporating a true mystery, it creates the blueprint for many episodes to follow. Though Bob pulls us aside to show his true nature before anyone in the story can catch on, we are presented the clues first and can feel proud of Bart for figuring it out himself.

Brother From Another Series takes second, the mystery being: Is Bob still evil? Tragically, the answer is: No! This is the first time in the series that Bob genuinely tries to reform after some of his worst acts, and he would have gotten to, if it weren’t for his little brother. While it might have been obvious that Cecil would turn out to be behind it all, Bob comes very close to snapping multiple times and continued to exhibit antisocial behavior (not that I’d blame him, given the working conditions). We could easily be led to believe that Bob would be the mastermind as always, not the unwitting accomplice. What a twist that he must work with his nemesis to save the town, or try to, anyways. I wish Cecil would make more speaking appearances.

Finally, in First Place, we have Black Widower. While not the perfect mystery (we don’t exactly know when the motive was at play) we are given hints on how it will piece together. Homer’s advice, the mention of the fireplace, Selma’s lack of a sense of smell, these are details that may not grab your attention during a first watch and yet they are very important. It’s funny that such subtle hints could lead to such an explosive ending. And even moreso than in Krusty Gets Busted, we can be very impressed that Bart figures it out all on his own, officially setting his and Bob’s rivalry in stone.

The quintessential Sideshow Bob episode brings the laughs, has quips most quotable, dazzles you with noteworthy animation, serenades you with something sentimental and/or silly, and invites you to play along with a game of mystery. I didn’t want to do a Best Episode category because I knew Cape Feare would win that one too, but these poll results do show why. Cape Feare excels in what makes a Sideshow Bob episode special, and is deserving of the hype that it gets. However, I do hope that we still have some love for all of the other episodes, which together create the lore, character development, and hilarious moments that make this character so dang lovable. Thank you to everyone who voted or left comments in the polls. Your participation made this possible.

#sideshow bob #robert terwilliger #the simpsons

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fnaf-fanatical · 1 year ago

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(I tried uploading the audio file but tumblr doesn't like me for some reason :[ )

Anyways:

School Project

I’ve been writing for a while, which actually started through here because tumblr posts with incorrect quotes led me to reading stories, which in turn made me start writing them. I was 11 or 12 at the time, fresh into my first real fandom, and very into wattpad stories, which as anyone on this site will know are unhinged, unedited, and due to the fact that most people writing there are very young like I was, are more than often lower quality than other writing sites (which is not to hate on wattpad writers - i’ve actually even read some really good and profound stories on there, both fanfic and otherwise, but that’s not the vast majority of the site, at least from what I’ve seen).

Honestly I first started writing because not only did it let me make the things I want to see - and was the start of my maladaptive daydreams though I didn’t know anything about that yet - but because it was also an outlet. Life was shitty, and it showed me that other people struggled, that my favorite characters could suffer from anxiety and depression and just shitty mental health, and that meant that I could project onto them. I wasn’t the one who wanted to kill myself dramatically or mutilate my body to get people to finally recognize I was in pain, the character was. I was too scared to ever harm myself physically, at least with a blade or the way I’d seen depicted in stories, but when I wrote, it didn’t matter how realistic it was or how gorey or graphic, because it was all fictional, and the rules were fake anyways.

And over time, obviously, my writing got better and I learned to Care About Myself more, until I didn’t really need to do that anymore. Except... I still liked making stories. I’d always been a storyteller, and writing gave me a medium to do so that would actually get me listened to, my stories could be long and rambling and people wouldn’t be annoyed or stop listening because it was a text, so they could stop reading if they wanted or not look at it or come back to it when they had more energy, and I wouldn’t directly face that, probably wouldn’t even know it was happening.

And, well, one of the things with time blindness is that you can be sitting there, know the time is 2:30 and you’ve got to eat something before you go to bed hours later, and yet you’ll blink and suddenly it’s 10:45 and you haven’t eaten anything, used the bathroom, or even really moved in 8 hours and where did the time go what happened. I started setting an alarm to remind myself to eat dinner, but that didn’t change the fact that I could get so “in-the-zone” that literal hours would blink by like seconds, because while my perception of time has always been wack, focusing - likely hyperfocus cause of the undiagnosed adhd - knows no rules or bounds and disregards the passage of time like a used bandaid that will inevitably show up again later where you least want it yet will go unnoticed and un-thought of until then.

Genuinely, I think I’ve grown a lot as a writer and I enjoy most of my own works, both because they’re what I want to see and because I can appreciate the skill that goes into it - which doesn’t mean I don’t still have a lot to learn, just that I’ve learned to stop shitting on my own abilities because it’s not perfect.

I’d always noticed when I was reading - usually proper books, when I was younger at least - different mistakes or ways things could’ve been articulated better, and when I didn’t know what a word or concept was I’d do everything I could to find out. So it’s no surprise that those skills transferred over to when I became a writer and took every source I could to try and improve my writing, some more valid than others.

Just... yeah. Writing helped me a lot, and I like where I’m at now.

#obviously this isn’t a great example of sophisticated writing it’s very informal lol #and also this is a school project where we take a different medium and mode #to express our college essay in a way thats more genuine to us #(and without the word limit)#so my teachers gonna see this (with my username blocked out)#half the fun of this site is that no one knows my name or face and im not changing that #i don’t expect many people to see this anyways #tw self harm mention #tw suicide mention #tw suicidal thoughts mention #SoundCloud

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cmdr-prio · 2 years ago

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20/06/3309

12:12 UTC

Every time I wake up, I have to check galnet to make sure I haven’t lost time again. This must be what it feels like to come out of a coma. The universe hasn’t significantly changed, but now something’s going on with the thargoid war, there’s some kind of cult involved, and I guess people get paid to find plants now?

There’s a lot I need to catch up on when I reach the end of this journey.

My brain feels like a neutron star’s firing off in it today. But you don’t get to take a day off when it makes the difference between living and dying.

My next waypoint is Eos Aowsy ZW-J c22-50. Aowsy feels like something Doge would say after getting bonked with a baseball bat.

Frell.

I just realised my already outdated meme knowledge is even further out of date.

In any case, I want to try reaching at least two waypoints today before calling it quits.

Heh. “Today.”

A measurement of time based on a planet we’ve long since drifted away from. We can’t forget our roots, I guess.

Well. Time to find something to blast into my ears, and fire up the engines again.

13:01 UTC

Here’s the thing about space. It’s really big. I know there’s already that famous quote about how big space is, but hear me out here.

The human brain was not designed to comprehend these kinds of scales. Hell, there are things planetside that are simply too big for a human to really comprehend beyond a theoretical level.

You might understand a mile. Maybe in terms of a distance you can run, or drive in a car. Ten miles, sure. But 100? Or 1000?

I am travelling lightyears. I am so far away from Sol, that by the time one photon from there were to reach me, I’ll have been long dead. Possibly in the “thousands of years” sense, I haven’t done the math.

And it’s just a few orange lines on a map.

Honestly, I’ve seen some ships that I’d say are big enough to be beyond human comprehension in terms of scale. Space stations definitely are.

I think about this a lot. Star Trek loved to show us the Enterprise, but it was rarely in a context that allowed you to truly comprehend the scale, at least in the early days.

One of the first things Red Dwarf shows us is a solitary person painting the side of the ship. The camera pulls out until they aren’t even visible any more, and the camera just keeps going. You’re very clearly shown that this ship, is really frelling big.

As you may guess, by the fact I’ve taken the time to write an essay about how my brain is too small, I’m at my first waypoint. On to the next.

♫ Currently listening to: Daft Punk - TRON Legacy Soundtrack ♫

14:23 UTC

One of the systems on the way here(Dryau Aowsy KN-B c13-1001) had a whole buncha stars, and I couldn’t help but think of the line “There are three suns and no women, WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!!”

I’m currently parked on some rock in Dryau Aowsy SZ-X c14-982, with a pretty decent view to boot.

Though I did notice this nearby while zooping the camera around.

Is this something I should be worried about? I’m not brave enough to drive my scarab over there for a closer look. Probably just a mildly interesting rock. Right..?

14:44 UTC

Nothing new to report. I’ve just been sitting here waiting to see if this migraine will weaken. But I have realised that when I finally reach Sagittarius A*, I’ve totally forgotten how to safely approach space stations from supercruise, and I don’t have an assist module. I vaguely remember something about controlling your speed to keep it around 7 seconds away, which is how I’ve been approaching planets, but a planetary approach will automatically drop me out of supercruise when the time is right. I don’t think approaching a station will? Does my ship alert me when it’s time to drop out of SC? I really don’t remember.. The training sims all used SC assist...

♫ Currently listening to: Henry Jackman - Kick-Ass: The Score ♫

15:35 UTC

I’ve made it to Ogairy LC-M c7-338. There’s like 7 waypoints left from here.

22 jumps per waypoint, that’s like.. 154 jumps? I can do 154 jumps, when my map settings were frelled up I was making like 180 jumps a day.

There’s a real chance I can finish this relatively soon.

Just don’t think about the journey back.

Honestly I’m wondering if I’ll be able to hitch a ride on a fleet carrier or something to get back. Depends who’s around I guess.

Though I shouldn’t be in such a rush to leave Sag-A* when I get there. I should take some time to enjoy the victory.

When I get there.

15:50 UTC

Okay, so I’ve been pondering my options. I think I’m going to step out of the cockpit for a bit. Get some food in me. I’ll publish this log for now. I’ve been wanting to keep one day’s events as a single log, to keep things tidy, but I guess I’ll make a part 2 if I continue the journey today. I need to assess if I have the mental energy to keep flying.

Knowing the end is in sight.. It gives me some hope.

#elite dangerous

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raayllum · 2 years ago

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So like, while “My return to this world is inevitable” is a banger line to end the trailer on, my brain was thinking about the quote in context. The opening quote of “Seeing you now, I can’t believe it’s been two years” is clearly from Claudia upon reviving Viren in 4x01, and none of the previous TDP teasers / trailers have ever had a quote that didn’t wind up being in the season somehow, even if sometimes they would be spliced up like “even when the odds seem impossible,” the full statement itself would be included somewhere.

Which is to say:

Who the fuck is Aaravos saying that line to?

So let’s run down the most likely and less likely options, shall we?

Despite being with Claudia for most of the season presumably by proxy, the only context I can think of for a line like this is him trying to ‘reassure’ her at the finish line, to coax her into continuing the spell / ritual to get him out of his mirror. We know from the S4 synopsis he’s leaving her clues and likely wants to leave her in a bit of a limbo so that she meets his time limit without any issues, so I don’t think he’d say it to her any time earlier.

The other possibility is Viren, especially if Viren, like I’ve already predicted / theorized, begins to regret this actions in S4 and thinks that perhaps Aaravos being freed would be worse for the greater good, and thus Viren shouldn’t try to save his own life (a perspective we’ve seen him come to before, even if he didn’t stick with it). Viren may be trying to stop him or dissuade with Claudia in an earlier scene, with Aaravos delivering this line to smugly point out how his attempts are futile.

The last two options to me are Callum and Rayla, respectively. Callum has stayed in Katolis from a narrative standpoint, likely, to eventually converse with Aaravos through the mirror. I don’t know if Aaravos will reveal his own goals to him, though, since a play for sympathy could fall apart quickly and easily be deemed suspicious. I think it’s more likely Aaravos will ‘prioritize’ Callum’s goals (whatever they may be) > asking Callum directly for help so again, this line doesn’t quite make sense unless it’s in a closer-to-end-of-season context where Aaravos has revealed his true colours and Callum is utterly screwed.

Last but not least is Rayla, who I think in some ways is almost the likeliest candidate. Not only has Viren said similar shit to her before like, “You haven’t saved him, you’ve done nothing but create a brief inconvenience for me” and “It’s too late. I’ve already won” but Rayla is the only character who will probably be an adversary to Aaravos the entire season, since she’ll know right away upon seeing him that he’s working with Viren (and again, maybe knows a little about whatever Runaan had heard of the mirror). She already wanted to stop Viren but will now know there’s much more at stake. I could see her easily, angrily spitting out that Aaravos will be stopped, that it won’t work, only for him to gloat that “My return to this world is inevitable... because I have the perfect bait,” and a cut of the horrified realization dawning on her face.

#aaravos #cube hostage exchange theory #tdp theory #tdp #the dragon prince #trailer #mini meta #analysis series #mine #s4 spoilers #not pictured: me eating pudding and theorizing like a maniac #asset

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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago

Text

Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that.

Genre: Famous Fake Dating!

Word Count: 17.1k!

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A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries) and Lu (@meetmymouth) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!!

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