#like how about you just check my stuff before you judge me and my inspiration?

[milky-rozen]

"Egyptians were not black!", "Egyptians were not white!", how about you just keep politics out of my art? I literally drew the gods having crazy skin colors like blue, turquoise and green, please...

Just spare me.

[httpscomexe]

Just came across your give me inspiration post and I’ve come to deliver 🫡

How about Bucky or Logan x naive reader? Well not really naive but sort of? Reader keeps making excuses for him and keeps brushing of the concerning things he does. Ex he keeps tabs on her he has to know where she is at all times or else he starts to FREAK out. He sabotages readers work or projects so that she will come to him for help. He even intrudes on her time with friends when reader says she’s going out he starts pouting and saying “I wish I had something to do. You should let me go with you. It will be fun they won’t mind”. Even their work place co workers mention it to reader but she just brushes it off saying “ oh he’s just a friend” or “he’s just lonely sometimes”. Basically he’s obsessed with reader and wants to be the only thing she thinks about and he will go to extreme measures to have her no MATTER what.

Hopefully that was good 🤷‍♀️ if it’s not feel free to ignore it lol it’s feels good to be back. I missed you 🫶

-love , S 💋

Barnes & Noble

Summary: Nothing goes right in your shitty life. Work, school, everything. It’s all shit. Until a worried friend finally looks out for you, and you have the best day you’ve had in probably years.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Professor!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language, suicide, drugs, wounds, drinking, underage drinking, anxiety, panic, shit boss, shit mom, all that good stuff,  (Individual warnings per chapter)

Word Count: 3408 (Find all parts here) Pt.2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

AN: This is almost completely different from what you asked for, but to be fair, I don't plan what I write, I just let my brain and my fingers move however they feel like and if I process that something is bad, I delete it and refresh for a minute. But I think I'm back. And this will probably have three parts.

Lolly: Guess who’s throwing a party this weekend!

You: I’m assuming Trent?

Lolly: Ew no, I would not be excited.

You: You?

Lolly: Yea! And you’re invited!

You smile at the rectangle of light in your hands, the only source of light in the room as a matter of fact. Your eyes are tired, you had been studying all day and just when you were about to sleep, your phone buzzed. Of course, considering your addiction to the device, you immediately picked it up, losing every second of progress you had made earlier trying to actually fall asleep. Fucking insomnia. You either went to sleep quickly and woke up every hour, or you didn’t sleep until an hour before you needed to be up for class. If your higher dosage didn’t start to work on sleeping pills, you seriously considered chloroform as a personal prescription.

You weren’t exactly a party person, apart from the drinks. The thought of being in a house full of three hundred people dancing and drinking, sweating all night while fucking whereever because their drunken mind couldn’t think straight was seriously making your stomach fold in disgust. What was even the point in parties anyways? To lose your virginity and figure out who the dad is for the next 5 years and you can’t afford a test because now you have to take care of a baby? Sounded like prison, just being held in a cell for 18 years or until you decide to kick the bucket yourself, deciding debt was more depressing than your lifestyle.

To be fair, you weren’t raised in the best household. Your mom tried to kick you out at 16, which you instead ran away, thinking she hated you but really she just didn’t want you to walk in on her hanging halfway off the bed with an empty bottle of pills hanging loose from her hand. And your dad? Sometimes you think you’re a lab experiment. Mom never brought him up,and when you brought him up, you’d be sent to your room like it was a cage and you failed your test. You honestly got lucky with the amount of maturity your harder teenage life gave you. Now you’re either working, studying, going to class, or getting the five hours, and what feels like thirty minutes of sleep, of course, only every other day. Some days, you don't get to sleep at all.

So of course you didn’t want to go to your best friend Lolly’s party. Whenever you said you were busy she’d just tell you to take a sick day off, but obviously, that wasn’t a thing that would ever be able to happen. You think your mom is the worst? Wait until you hear about your boss…

Morning

“Keep it going! It’s just a scratch!” She shouted basically in your face, her spit from her smoke corroded teeth would probably be on the tip of your nose if you had turned your head just barely to the right. The ‘scratch’ on your arm bleeding, leaking down between the now goosebumps on your skin and a few drops dripping down onto the broken glass on the greasy tile floor. Some asshole wasn’t happy about how few chocolate chips were in their cookie, you wish you weren’t joking. But of course, the customer is always right, even if it means they get to throw a broken piece of glass at you, cutting your bicep. “I don’t even know why I bothered hiring you, you ain’t even a pretty face.” She scoffs as she walks away, half her ass sticking out from her way to small pants. You half expected her button to fly out and land in someone's drink. She’d probably broken about 80 different codes by now with the way she talked to you. But of course, you’re way too patient with people, unlike Lolly, who quit the job as soon as she saw the morning shift manager, literally set her hat and apron down on the counter and walked out. You wish you had walked out with her, as she now works at a pet store, grooming dogs while you bleed all over the floor. It was five in the damned morning, you didn’t need this shit. But here you were, scrubbing the floor of glass, spilt Fanta, and blood, which was dripping onto the floor still, creating more of a mess.

Afternoon

From five to twelve. That’s how long you had to work. Every. Single. Day. Then you have thirty minutes to get to your first class. You have to switch clothes in the bathroom at work, shove it in your bag, run out onto the streets of New York, jog down Grey Street, cross Midway Drive, cut through the park at the centre of the city, hoping to fuck there isnt some event happening that keeps you from going around, then you have to go down into the subway, walk through the crowd of people talking loudly on their phones, all sweating and holding briefcases, so you try your hardest to avoid their bodies, reminded of the gash on your bicep when a musty street performer covered in silver paint rubs against you, coating your skin in a not so shiny and sort of disgustingly sticky paint. You hold back the gag you wanted to release onto about 15 people, and you push through the rest, almost twisting your ankle halfway up the stairs, but you of course power through it, and look at your watch. You didn’t have time to go to your dorm and clean up, but fuck. You look at your reflection in the window of a Starbucks, you didn’t even realise you had started crying, but your mascara running down your cheeks just like the blood had run down your arm, which stopped at some point and dried up with the streak of paint, made you look an absolute mess. Like you just walked in on your husband cheating on you with your sister. You just gag at your reflection, then the walking symbol shows up, and you cross the street, it was rush hour, so you had two choices. Go to your room, and clean up, be about ten minutes late, or go to class and look like shit in front of everyone. It was a split-second decision. But you didn’t want to look like shit. Honestly, you didn’t even want to go to class, so missing a few minutes wouldn’t kill you. Even if it did, you wouldn’t mind.

So instead of taking a right and going to the class you so desperately needed to pass, you go left on Harper Road, and you run up some steps to your apartment, shoving the keys in the door and swinging it open before rushing to the bathroom, pulling off your white blouse - now stained red and brown from blood - and tossing it on the floor, quickly turning on your shower, and you didn’t give a flying fuck about the water bill, you were about to take your damned time under the water.

You step in once your fully unclothed, the warm running water stinging your cut but the damned shower was the only good thing going on in your life right now, so there were no complaints apart from the hiss that leaves your lips as it does hit the now inflamed wound.

About thirty minutes later

About twenty eyes land on you as soon as you walk into the classroom, which was actually just the library. Literary class for your want to be a writer, and your teacher - Professor Barnes - pauses for a moment. He looks you up and down, gives you a disappointed look, then you find an open seat, pulling out a notebook with only a few minutes left of the class, but you were about to spend the next hour or so in the library with your friends anyways. While you wrote, and studied, they had a project to work on. One that you’ve already failed twice. Once for turning it into the wrong class, and once for accidentally lighting it on fire at work when a co-worker dropped a flaming pan on it, which, of course, you were blamed for. Then just as class ends, and everyone packs to leave while you continue to write notes into your book, you feel a presence behind you. Before you can even apologise to him, you feel his large hand on your shoulder, and his voice in your ear.

“You were late again.” No shit Sherlock. “What happened this time?” He asks, moving to sit on the corner of your desk, and you put down your pencil. He asked the question as if he didn’t believe you every other time you told him your situation. You wait for the library to completely empty out before you could yell at him for being a dick, and as soon as the last student leaves, the second the door closes and leaves a whoosh of air from its weight, you don’t scream. Some unknown squeak of every emotion mixed together except for happiness and joy leaves your throat, and your newly applied mascara runs down your face, exposing your clear tears to be mixed with the black makeup, streaks of it running down your cheeks, causing you to lean forward, face in your hands as you start to sob. The sound of a heavy sigh is the only thing in the room apart from your absolutely embarrassing breakdown. “I gave you a hundred on the assignment for the day.” What? That makes you look up, once again looking like a wife just cheated on, only this time your false husband cheated with your own mother.

“W-What? I-I don’t even k-know what the assignment was…” You hear him scoff, but it wasn’t a hateful scoff, it was more of a ‘do I look like I give a fuck,’ sort of scoff.

“Look. Lolly spoke to me about how you’re doing. So I figured I’d give you a break.” That was… Weird… Why would he do that?

“But what about the assignments that go with it-?”

“Congrats, your grade just went from a D to a B. How about you go home and relax for the rest of the day instead of studying.” You’re silent for a moment. Relax? You haven’t done that since freshman year, and even then, you weren’t sure your lunch period was exactly meant for a thirty minute nap.

“Mr. Barnes- I-” You jump a little, his hand closing your textbook and he hops off the table.

“Come on, class is over, go home.” He sighs, and goes back to his desk with your textbook, scanning it and setting it on the shelf so you wouldn’t even need to bother turning it back in and most likely paying the late fee. You stand up awkwardly, grabbing your bag and only just realising you definitely twisted your ankle as you limp a little before barely catching yourself on your desk. You honestly looked pathetic, you weren’t exactly sure why he wasn’t laughing. “Are you alright there?” You hear his voice close again, and you turn to look up at him, his hand moving to the middle of your back. But momma didn’t raise any wimp.

“It hurts-” You whimper. What. The fuck. Momma would be disappointed - If she wasn’t dead - she’d probably choke you to death. That pathetic ass noise would’ve been enough to consider you a puppy ready for adoption. “I mean uh- I’m fine.” He chuckles a little dryly, his eyes widening at your horrible attempt to convince him that you were truly fine.

“Are you sure? You’re crying even more now.” Honestly, if he hadn’t pointed it out, you wouldn’t have noticed. You were so sleep deprived. So tired. Exhausted. You were genuinely ready to snap at the next person who even breathed wrong. “Are you gonna be able to walk back to your dorm?” He grabs your bag, swinging it over his shoulder before you can even answer.

“I-I’ll be alright…” You hold out your hand for your bag, but instead, his hand on your back gently pushes you forward, making you limp in pain before his arm snakes around your waist, which should’ve made you jump, but he was helping you walk.

“Well, Imma give you a ride home if that’s alright.” He pushes the button to open the automatic door, helping you walk out into the cold air which hits you in the face worse than it should with tear stained cheeks.

“I mean I can walk-”

“Doesn’t look like it.” He shrugs, walking into the teachers parking lot, dragging you towards his truck, the one you knew was his because he was the only teacher you could actually stand, so you’ve waved bye to him at the end of the day a few times before.

“Yea- I can’t.” You admit, limping along next to him.

He opens the passenger door to the truck, and he even helps you in, setting your bag on the floorboard before closing the door and rounding the vehicle, getting into the driver seat and the warm air from the vents feels amazing, everywhere except for your sleeve covered arm, which was still warm and inflamed.

“Go ahead and give me directions hun.” He asks, pulling out of his parking space. You turn on your phone, a few missed texts from Lolly that you could look at and deal with later swiped away by your thumb as you go to the maps app to get directions until you remember you live just across the street from the dorms.

“I uh… I’m in the apartment- the one with the red roof across the street from the dorms…” you mumble, but he does hear you, nodding as you set your phone down on the centre console and reach down, rubbing your shin with your palm and it hurts like shit - it's definitely more than sprained - and you were way too poor to go to the hospital to get it checked out. So a self diagnosis would be enough for now.

“So what happened? Did you fall or something?”

“I uh- twisted it going up the subway steps.” You sit back up and look out the window.

“Subway? What are you doing in the subway if you live so close to the school?”

“I have work in the mornings…”

“Sounds stressful.”

“You have… no idea…” You mumble again, looking out the windshield now, and you can practically feel his head turn to look at you, so you look back, you were of course, correct. “Sorry- I just- today has been really bad. Not as bad as like- other days, just like- the worst this month.” You shrug, trying not to just be some complaining idiot.

“No, no. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise. If I were you, I wouldn’t even be going to class after that.” He shrugs in return, and turns back to the road, which you do too as he steps on the gas and continues.

“I just uh, I guess I’m clumsy.” You look down a little.

“I just assumed you got caught up in the rush hour crowds. You wouldn’t be the first person to be pushed around by assholes in the swarms of humans.” You chuckle a little. Swarms of humans is definitely the best way to describe it. “Lolly told me about your work, your boss sounds like a dick.” You laugh this time, throwing your head back onto the headrest behind you and you look at him, a little smile on his lips.

“Oh no, she’s the most loveable person ever-” He starts to laugh at your horribly acquainted sarcasm. “She’s the best part of my day.” You roll your eyes, looking back out the window.

“Well I heard that someone has some very mixed emotions about her. One being hatred, the other being pure infuriating anger.” You start to laugh, it honestly hurts a bit to laugh. You were so sore. It made you want to cry… again.

“Does Lolly just tell you everything about me?”

“Well I asked. You two hang out a lot, so I figured she’d be best to ask.” He shrugs, again. And he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment, finding the only empty space. Your space. “And she told me, and I quote.” He picks up his phone, opening a texting screen. “She needs a break. She has been working under this yellow bag of walrus shit for the last two years without a single break for her own health and I am worried about her. Maybe you could convince her to take a break. I would probably kiss you if you could.” He sets the phone back down. “But we're going to disregard that last part because she’s my student, and I’m positive she was drunk.” You grit your teeth. It was definitely Lolly. Because you do unfortunately remember calling your boss a yellow bag of walrus shit.

“Yep. But I unfortunately cannot take a break.”

“Well, I’m not exactly a doctor, but I’d say your ankle is pretty messed up.”

“Well-”

“And I looked into it- You will get paid in your time off. She cannot fire you if you’re injured with a doctor or nurse note.”

“Well-”

“And I occasionally take over for the school nurse, so guess who wrote you a doctor note for your fucked up ankle?” You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say. “So. Grab your bag and head up to your room, and promise me you’ll relax and take care of yourself for a day?” Why was he even doing this? He didn’t pay attention to you before. You were always just another student and now he’s basically forging a document to give you a break? It just didn’t seem real.

“Okay…” You whisper, grabbing your back and opening the door as you step out back into the cold, and head straight to your room, which was in clear view from the spot he was in, so he sits in his truck, waiting for you to get inside before pulling away as he stays parked. But just as you set your hand on the doorknob…

“There you are!” Your neighbour. Of course, your fucking neighbour has to add to your most wonderful day. “Your dog won’t stop barking! She’s been yip yap and yip yap all day! I’m going to call animal control!” You don’t even own a fucking dog.

“Ma’am I-”

“You forgot your phone.” His voice makes you want to writhe out of your fucking skin. You turn around to see you professor holding your phone out, which you take slowly as he turns towards the lady. “Is everything alright ma’am?” You want to laugh. You and your exhaustion work together their absolute fucking hardest as you try so hard not to laugh at her words.

“Oh of course darlin, everything is fine. Just talkin to my lovely neighbour.” From the mean, stern, gritty yelling voice that you’ve grown used to, to a suddenly sweet old lady that sounds as if she takes care of butterflies and builds them new homes. You cover your mouth, genuinely struggling not to laugh, and you see the corner of her eye twitch.

“I thought I heard some yelling.” Barnes gently wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you take a deep breath, some confusion now etched into your features.

“Just some harmless bickering, nothing too much.” She looks away from Barnes, and looks down at you. “Have a nice day darling.” You can almost feel how hard her fucking teeth are clenched, and you give her a little smile. Apparently, she wasn’t willing to embarrass herself in front of handsome young men- er- your professor.

“Your neighbour is a dick too. Maybe you should get your dog something to distract it.”

“I don’t own a dog.” You both stare at each other for a moment, and you see him biting his cheek before he takes a deep breath.

“Go get some rest. I’ll see you next week in class.” He chuckles a little and stands there, watching as you half-awkwardly open your door, closing it behind you before you heard him descending the stairs, and you hear his truck roar back to life. A little relieved that you finally had someone on your side.

[mushroomjar]

Did you think I forgot about it? The Halloween vocaloid playlist is done!! I'll include the links in a reblog so Tumblr doesn't bury the post, there's a YouTube playlist and a Spotify one, the YouTube one being the longer one with nearly 100 songs... yeah, I got carried away lol Reminder for those who have forgotten/not in the know, this playlist starts with cute lighthearted songs about Halloween and monsters, and gets darker in tone and sound the deeper down the playlist you go

I don't want to make the post too long so I'll just include a general content warning for the songs in the playlist, and under the cut I might list all the songs and ramble a bit about what it was like to make the playlist. I hope you enjoy!^^

Content Warnings: flashing lights, bright images, loud sounds and jumpscares, disturbing images and noises, death, body horror, gore, cannibalism, abuse, stalking, potentially paranoia-inducing songs/lyrics

The playlist has been done for days, I've just been procrastinating on actually making the post until now lmao sorry! I had a lot of fun making the playlist and going through the suggestions, it also made me fall in love with some producers I hadn't paid much attention to before (shout out to all of the people who sent in Babuchan suggestions, as you can see I went down a bit of a Babuchan rabbit hole and added tons of his stuff to the playlist, same for machigerita lol)

I'll admit that one of the reasons the playlist kept getting longer was because I'd look at other creepy/scary vocaloid playlists on YouTube for inspiration, and every time I was nearly done I would write down 20 more songs to check out, which is why it took me a whole month to get this playlist done lol. I hope it was worth it! I'm very pleased with how it all turned out

There were also many songs/producers I really liked but decided not to include in the playlist, for example I found DaijoubuP, who I really like, but I didn't think it fit the vibe of the kind of Halloween playlist I wanted to make, so none of his stuff is in the playlist. Same goes for SEIKAI, his songs sound very creepy but I found the lyrics a bit too dark and I wanted to try to keep the playlist a bit more lighthearted. Maybe I'll make a more general vocahorror playlist sometime to highlight all of these producers' work! Who knows

Something else I realized because of this playlist is my standard for creepy vocaloid music might be a bit different than other people's. I got many Maretu suggestions, and I love the guy and completely understand why some of his music was suggested (such as Coin Locker Baby), but it surprised me just how much I'd see him suggested in the notes of my post or in Spotify playlists, he's never really given me the creeps even with his darker lyrics. Not judging! Just an observation I had

You'll notice that I've been using vocaloid as a bit of an umbrella term, since there are a couple of songs that use UTAU and even Synth-V voicebanks^^

I think that's all I have to say for now, so I'll just list all the songs in the playlist and hurry to put the links in a reblog! Thank you so much to everyone who helped with the playlist, all of your suggestions were really appreciated, I would not have as good a playlist if it wasn't for you^^

The song list is mainly because I tried to link back to the original producers whenever possible, and also sometimes the songs were very hard to find, so a lot of the titles are in Japanese, so I figured having the songs and producers written out here would make it a bit easier for you to navigate the playlist^^ Anyway, songs:

Happy Halloween - Junky

SLASH/ER - Circus-P

Ghosts Play To The Audience - PinocchioP

Kikkai Kettai - Meddmia

Zen'yasai no akuma - mayuko

Furaan Furaan Zombie - nem

Fake-Cryer Pumpkin - CycleP

Zen'yasai no kuroneko - mayuko

Halloween Patisserie TrickaTorka - machigerita

Halloweenya - Chinozo

Dream-Eating Monochrome Baku - nem

Creepy Toast - CircusP

Pumpkin March - momocashew

Selfish Princess - fujiwo

Pumpkin Head Spooky Dance - machigerita

Dream Meltic Halloween - machigerita

Giga giga witch - Kurosawa Madoka

Trich, Trach, Trick Parade - sasasaP

Happy Hollow And The God Club - Nanou

Saa, Docchi? - HINATA Haruhana

Propaganda! - Crusher-P

What Gave It Away - R.I.P

Shadow Shadow - Azari

Splatter Party - Camellia

Who? - Azari

Pandemic - YuugouP

Twilight Homicide Song - Kiraboshi Hikaru

Greedy Halloween Candy Nights - machigerita

Gochisou - Xitoo

Spiral-Luvox - Tune Tonic/Switch

Mrs. Pumpkin's Comical Dream - hachi

trick and treat - OSTER Project

Strange Masquerade Halloween - machigerita

Oxidation And Dream Monsters - Ghost

Oz no Kaitai Show - Ankoku DouwaP/Joruzin

Sadistic.Music Factory - cosMo@BouSou-P

Hourglass - HiiragiKirai

Dance With The Dead - Ghost

Alice of Human Sacrifice - Yugami-P

Candy Addict Full Course - machigerita

The Boy Who Went To Hell - SHUDDER

Crazy Clown - Intro-P

Ideal Picture - NanoritaP

Serial Contraption of Malice - Ghost

Twins - Babuchan

Not As It Seems - Creep-P

Amydgala's Rag Doll - Ghost

Hyouhon Shoujo - Kiyozumi

Rotten Girl, Grotesque Romance - machigerita

Grotesque Love Song - shoutarouP

That Woman - shoutarouP

Musunde hiraite rasetsu to mukuro - hachi

Hide And Seek - Ho-ong-i

Tokeru Sakana - Yuzuri_Hal

Greetings From The Bottom Of The Well - machigerita

Color & Electricity - mushiP

Patchwork Toxin - machigerita

Bacterial Contamination - Kanimiso-P

Song for Great Satan - Nanka-P

Taiyou-sama - Abuse/Abuse-Ken

Fear Garden - Chaa

Despair The Burguer Factory - Groy Anderson

The Cyclops - David K.

Tears of Artificial Flowers - Babuchan

Moon Prescription - Babuchan

Rugrats Theory - Crusher-P

Monochrome Ward - Yugami-P

Bone Dead Mansion - Babuchan

50/50 - Risshuu

Dark Woods Circus - machigerita

Wide Knowledge of the Late Madness - machigerita

Tell me you'll love me - Babuchan

After School - Okashi-P

Lavender Town - neku

???????? - SocialPhobiaSynaps

behe-laino_hotza-bihotza - sakizakisaki

In A Rainy Town, Balloons Dance With Devils - hachi

Sand Gum - MOL.

Nodoka na Kyuujitsu - HikkieP

Broken Toy Mania - Babuchan

Red Flower - Babuchan

Cry Baby - Babuchan

Fuzai - MondaijiP

Boku Yaranai, Kimi Itooshi - nicol

Ant Observation - Healing-P

A 13-Year Old Killer - Sunazame

0 People's Waltz - Babuchan

Varicella - Babuchan

Kagome Kagome - Zawazawa-P

potatoman - MondaijiP

Okaasan - machigerita

VOCALOID UTOPIA - dennoko-P

Hyperpnea - Hikkie-P

Crushed Mary - Mondaiji-P

Nakazu to mo Rokkaku Wrench da Hototsugi - MondaijiP

Complex - Watashi no koko

[revvethasmythh]

okay I HAVE FINISHED. a few final thoughts below the cut

-yes, i romanced lucanis. yes, my personal canon has rook is a throuple with lucanis and davrin. we exist

-i was very aware going into this that there was criticism of the lucanis romance in general and honestly i don't even know if i can judge it accurately considering how much time i spent dicking around before moving the story along. my suspicion is that the romance plays pretty fine if you're consistently moving along, but has heavy lags if you're spending a lot of time dicking around as I did. i still enjoyed it! especially the final romance scene after coming back from the fade, that was good stuff. it's hard to build a romance with a character who is really scared of a relationship and is frightened to act on things, but i think there was room for one more small scene after you commit and before completing his personal quest, probably. just to smooth over the whole experience. i have thoughts, but they're kind of vague so put a pin in that. but again, overall i liked it and would do again. it ain't the fenris romance but, then again, what is?

-it was fun seeing the inquisitor and dorian back at it again! bonded for life after in hushed whispers best friends fr

-choosing harding for the distraction team AND bellara to deal with the wards absolutely felt like the perfect choices in my playthrough. harding's sacrifice hits very hard because she was always very "whatever it takes" about this and "if you need me like I needed you, i will be there. that is my promise to you" and her belief that the world is good and people can change was genuinely inspiring in that it made rook choose to take the high road and give solas one last chance to potentially fuck her over to see if she could save him (which he almost did, but didn't because of The Convocation Of 3.5 Women Needed To Change His Mind). rook would simply have not made that decision if she wasn't trying to honor harding's memory as best she could.

-bellara taking control of the blight FUCKED. there was NO waffling, no uncertainty, no "ifs" or "maybes" or "mights." she said "I CAN do this" and then she DID and I think it felt like fantastic character growth for her. great choice, no notes, honestly glad i chose her for this instead of neve (because it would have felt like neve whump at that point, she'd been THROUGH IT this game).

-i wish there was more of a discussion to be had with taash about what happened with harding or some resolution to it that wasn't one line of dialogue when you get back to the lighthouse. i wanted to do a proper check in about that (and be like! hey! don't say everyone you love dies! please let me help you taash!). but that's overall a part of the fact that there's little follow up at the end of the game, which, it is what it is. da2 did also just kind of END, so like. been there, done that i suppose.

-i had a lot of fun! there are clunky things and some awkward writing and it's an imperfect game, yeah--but i really, genunely did have fun and will play this more than i ever will inquisition or even origins. not to repeat myself but: it ain't da2, but then, what is?

[sirensplayhouse]

alpha state

welcome back, my little sirenettes 🕺🏾this is gonna be a short and quick to the point post😂. so i’ve been seeing a lot of posts about the different brainwaves hint my little reblogging spree i just went on and it inspired me to drop my success story on how i entered/tapped into alpha state so sit back and enjoy🫡.

so alpha state is a state of deep conscious relaxation, you feel relaxed and at peace and just have an overall sense of calmness when you’re in it (think of it as a light hypnotic state). you’re able to absorb more information, ideas and suggestions in alpha state because you’re more receptive and focused during this state.

ok siren we dgaf about you’re explanations just tell us how to tap into it🙄

ok so just like anything you can get into alpha state by simply telling your subconscious to put you in alpha state of, you can listen to brain wave frequencies like the one i’ve tagged below, you also enter alpha state when you meditate and daydream and you can do the counting backwards from 200 and counting to 200 method if you please.

siren ok we just want to know what YOU did to get into alpha state we’on care bout none of that other stuff

ok ok tough crowd😵‍💫anywaysssssss i put on this lovely little audio i tagged (and honestly i saw this tagged in another post on tumblr a year ago and decided to try it , so full credit goes to the person that found it first y’all the goat). i was sitting up during this process so i wouldn’t fall asleep , kept my head straight and my head still and moved my eyes to the top of the my tv (so i wouldn’t have to strain my eyes too far) and before i knew it i was in alpha state🤭.

it’s that simple nothing overcomplicated or anything i have done the counting up to and down from 100/200 and honestly i just felt like my mind wandered off wayyyyyy to much when i did that method and i like this one better. now there are a multitude of alpha state meditations on youtube that you can use that don’t have to be this specific one let’s be clear🧍🏾‍♀️.

and one last mention i did have my affirmation tapes playing in the background (y’all know i love me some affirmation tapes😂) while i was in alpha state and after i got out of it and took a nice lil nap (don’t judge✋🏾) i woke up to what i wanted (i did not know how to phrase this last part so this is as good as y’all getting😭🧍🏾‍♀️).

no i’m not telling y’all what i manifested😂but i will tap into alpha state again and manifest something different post a picture of what i chose to manifest just so y’all can see it’s that simple.

idk if i missed anything or what because like i said this was kinda rushed and in the spur of the moment but just in case i did, posts i recommend: boom and slap and y’all should also go check out @gorgeouslypink her work is always top tier and that’s all my little sirenettes until next time🤝🏾

[n4talia-chaparro]

THE WHOLE THING IS COMPLETE NOW LETS GOOO

And remember I'll be explaining half of it except for the "trauma" part (wont go very deep into it unless you want me to-) because you guys are so sensitive that you can't even handle a damn topic properly instead of learning of how to read a warning instead of ignoring it! So yeah if you get sensitive and stuff. NOT my responsibility, cry about it bozo.

Side note: the "trauma" explanation is ALSO on the document so I won't be mentioning that to avoid drama or controversy.

Unless I can mention a few things like the word "bruises" or something like that. so hopefully this doesn't cause drama in the fandom.

So anyway TW for POORLY GRAMMAR, CA, religion, some yucky theme, etc.

You have been warned-

Before I explain it I would like to inform you that this timeline or "past" was inspired by a random episode from the 1st season were explains why Krupp has always been a "grumpy bully" and reveals his "mother" and her real name.

So instead of a grumpy bully this version is way different compared with the original episode from the show.

Not to mention this timeline is heavily inspired by Bojack Horseman and Moral Orel. and a little inspired by the GS au, a silly and interesting au created by warrior of waistbands/hey-hey "J" (Ps. Check out their au and artwork. They are cool ^^)

Don't want them to block me if they find out I enjoy their artwork and find out about my stuff as well just like the creator of the sticky note au did for no apparent reason :((

Gp's Childhood (?)

Pretty sure you are confused and asking yourself what happened or how did this happen before Gp!krupp himself became a villain in this AU. Well allowed me to explain.

Ben was a regular kid who lived in a place that was kinda similar to a farm. Sorta. Just like the other kids, he was just normal except he didn't have a good and healthy relationship with his family after what happened.

When Ben was 7-8 years old he would always hear and watch his parents argue and fight over things. Meanwhile Jasper was 0-1 months old which sadly he didn't remember what his dad looks like back then.

A few days later Bernice and her husband got a divorce, the 1st reason was because Bernice was toxic and would constantly almost hit him. She was also abusive towards him. Even if the husband wanted to visit his kids, Bernice refused to share the custody with him.

The other reason was because she didn't like the fact he was a jew. Bernice was raised by christians and her mother always told her that people who are in that religion could not be trusted. Because of that, she wanted a divorce over that. Again Ben and Jasper were too young and didn't understand the reason behind the divorce.

2 years later Benjamin turned 10 years old and is in 4th grade. However, his relationship with his mom was terrible. He thought that maybe she was stressed but he was wrong. Every time he wanted to talk his mom would yell and throw insults at Ben. Saying that she regretted having him and wished he had NEVER been born in the first place. Bernice would also say that it's his fault that she didn't have time to get an abortion

Of course, the little buddy was hurt by it as maybe his hatred toward Bernice was slowing growing back then.

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September 3, ????: Ben had a bad time trusting people, especially Bernice. His mom kept on judging and yelling at him for not being good enough. Bernice would always compare him with her husband, saying he is just like HIM and he will never be good enough.

Bernice also gaslights and manipulates the child, especially guilt-tripping him to the point Ben can't even focus on his schoolwork.

Until that day she decided to sign him up to a church without thinking. She could've asked Ben for permission but instead, she decided to sign it and say it was for the "best". Ben didn't like going in there but unfortunately, Bernice had to guilt-trip the child again and say she will send hurt him if he disobeyed.

The place was called "The Valley Church Sidney Piqua", also known as "Valley Church" for short.

Bernice thought that place was fun for her son since a friend of hers suggested her sign him up there so he can spend time with other children.

Which gone wrong uh-

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Ben hated that place so much, he didn't like people, and he hates being recorded or watched by the nuns. He hates the fact his mom is shoving those in his throat. Before that "activity" started he met the priest, Levi Smith. One of his mom's friends (well future husband I suppose? Like lovers or whatever). The man himself was glad to see the child in person and introduced himself. Again Ben (gp) didn't like the place. He wasn't interested. He just wanted to finish his work.

Days and weeks passed and Benjamin was slowly feeling like the priest was like a father to him.

No matter how much he despises Levi, the man makes him less comfortable. The problem he had with the man was that he kept staring at him nonstop. It's always the unwanted and uncomfortable touch and unnecessary questions. He thought it was how christians treat others and thought it was stupid. But sadly things got worse when Levi encouraged him to follow him to his office to have a "serious conversation" and...

I'll let you guys guess. Not gonna reveal it at all. (OR should I???)

After the experience

He has stopped talking to his mom to avoid being stared at and judged by her as usual. It was pretty painful for him to hold it.

He didn't know if he needed to go to a hospital or not. Still didn't know if he was gonna diagnosed with something worse like a disorder or an infection after THAT.

4-5 days passed (September 8th) and he started to behave differently. He couldn't concentrate or focus. Everything that surrounds him scares him. The cross, the kindergarteners, everything reminds him of the priest and those people. it haunts him.

According to his History teacher, Ben gets easily triggered and hides under the damn table. Others say the little buddy responds aggressively when someone touches or speaks to him

The principal and the teacher tried their best to have a meeting with Bernice about her son's new behavior. Bernice, being sarcastic and unaware, said that's him being a little scumbag for attention but the principal didn't agree with that statement and tried to convince her to visit a therapist for the kid. Unfortunately, Bernice refuses to do that because she doesn't wanna go broke and waste money on something that Ben "doesn't" need and he seems normal to her.

She then asked herself why the fuck would he need that if he's very normal? Maybe he's been a little bastard- nah not really. Her goofy cowgirl egg-shaped ass was still unaware. Maybe Ben was being dramatic and problematic after finding out about the divorce between her and the father.

After the meeting Bernice was pissed off. She didn't wanna waste her time having another conversation with a staff over the same topic. She was sick and tired of receiving concerning and worrying comments from the teacher when it comes to Ben.

Bernice had a enough that ended up doing the worst thing. Harming the living shit out of Ben as a punishment. She didn't care if it's physical or not.

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Day 9 (September 17): sadly no positive changes. Still the same. Well.. except for his hatred towards Bernice. It grew more than last month plus his trauma making it more than "little".

(Keep in mind He is STILL 10 and will be 11 next year) things were hard. Still can't focus on schoolwork or chores. He even had to babysit Jasper for his mom every Sunday when she went to church. Well just to visit her belove Mr. Smith /j

The day gets worse as usual. Yeah like always. Ben was aware that soon his school would have a Halloween party but he didn't want to know what would happen if SHE found out about it.

After babysitting Jasper, he felt stressed. His mom came at 6PM when she promised she would be at 10 AM. I guess she lied.

Bernice was only giving him a dead stare. Not saying a word. That made Ben feel less secure. Not sure if what she's thinking of him now.

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September 18, ????: Things were the same, Ben acting strange and traumatized after what happened. He wasn't in the mood to be with people and wanted to be alone.

He felt gross. He feels dirty. He feels disgusting and nasty. He didn't know how to feel after that. Ben wished he never met HIM or at least defend himself but it was too late to do that. he wanna forget the things he experienced

He hates his body so much. He hates seeing bruises and bite marks all over his body and neck. He hates it so much. Later that day he finally met someone who will always make him happy for the first time.

Theodore (ted), the new student.

That day was odd but special. He didn't like the kid that much, Theodore seemed annoying to him but hey! It was slowly making Ben less happy that someone like Ted understood him but still didn't trust him that much.

Weeks passed and they know each other perfectly and became friends. Even tho Ted was a friend to him, he was slowly developing an attraction toward Theodore. He didn't wanna confess it yet, he was worried his mom would find out and scold him for it.

He didn't know how to feel. Yet he does feel a bit clingy towards him sometimes.

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October 31st: it was a cold night, it was Halloween. Ben was getting ready to go outside like the others, he went downstairs to see if dinner was ready but LMFAO. I guess things can get worse

The priest was in the kitchen along with Bernice. He didn't say a word. Only staring at the priest with disgust and hatred after what he has done to him. To make it work Jasper was with them. His brother was 2 months old (sorta???) and seeing him next to the priest made Ben sick in the stomach. Bernice wanted Ben to upstand what was best for him but he immediately left the house without eating, not wanting to listen to her excuses.

He was now walking outside. He didn't understand how his mom was unaware of what Levi did. But decided to go trick-or-treating to forget about it.

Few hours later: The stressed and overwhelmed boy was still walking around to find candies in a different direction until he saw the church. That was the place where his mom signed him.

Just by looking at it, the place makes him grossed out and wishes that place and the priest never existed in the first place. Then he thought of a random idea, he remembered some random neighbor accidentally giving him a candle inside of a chocolate bar so he picked up the candle from the bag and grabbed the matches

Before he attempted to throw the candle at it, Ben was interrupted by a simple "Hello" from behind. Just

Theodore. Ben nervously blushed and didn't know he was there. Maybe he was waiting for him. Who knows. Ted was happy and said he was excited to see him again. He looked at the candle and asked him about it. Ben explained and Ted was confused yet not really aware what it means.

Soo..Ted grabbed his hand and ran with him with a smile to start their first adventure cuz why not?

Ben accidentally dropped the candle (which he put the fire on) to the ground, slowly burning the place by itself as the two boys ran away laughing to enjoy their night.

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Lucky for him, he was happy to be with Ted. Minutes later they both head to a random place to eat and sit somewhere-

And that's where Ben begins to confess his feelings to him and explains how much he likes him.

Then Ted understood that and confessed back. they both became a couple and dated.

They have been together for almost 2-3 years of happiness. Ted was like a missing puzzle and made his day happy. Without him and his warm comforting smile, he wouldn't be happy.

Sadly it didn't last forever because Bernice didn't like their relationship and tried to solve it by separating them :(

Past childhood relationships

Very sad honestly. Did we talk about his relationship with his mom right? Yeah, we did. But there are a few things I'd like to add.

Bernice: not only she's abusive and manipulative. She's also strict. Bernice would get easily pissed at Ben for having Bs something scolding him for not working hard. her to stop.

She throws tomatoes at him whenever he gets a B or for not being good enough- sometimes strangling him with a noose or leaving cigarette burn on his skin or using a branding iron at him. "Oopsie my bad I was joking lmfao lemme check it out-"

Had to make him milk the cows,,,, yes we have cows in this au,,,,wow. Idk how to feel about this.

Just like the episode except a little more... uh...hear me out 🗣🗣🗣 /JK JK

Jasper: the two-month-old brother YIPPE. silly babeh cuz Ben is the older brother

Whenever he's being watched by Ben, he acts like a little gremlin and makes a mess 24/7.

Even tho Ben's relationship with Jasper is just chaotic. Well stupid, he can't blame him, he is aware he is toddler so I don't get why it's necessary to yell at jasper- 💀

Present

Aw yes. The past is the past and we move on to the present now. we have the grown-ass Gp who is a principal and tries his best to focus and he has a different religion, Judaism.

Unfortunately, the childhood trauma still haunts him nowadays. His meds don't work that well and has a major anger issue, sorta. Like I mentioned in a very old post about Gp!Krupp, unlike the OG Netflix Krupp, he still has some sort of IQ since childhood and if we add the current IQ that he has after becoming a villain it's...well high?

Thanks to the smartychanger200, aka the invention that Melvin made and accidentally shot Krupp with, he managed to gain more intelligence...but you know...he then managed to get more by stealing Melvin's IQ and combining it with his uh...big fuckery but that's how it happened,,, uh- /Srs /gen

So, uh...after all, he is still a murderous principal, a walking red flag, I must say. The man himself cam get a little too silly, and should be careful if you interact with him 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️☝️🤓🤓

[blazeofnight]

PotO Italy (Trieste) review - Act 2

We did enter the intermission with high spirits: All I Ask of You did get us interested and on board, and despite some disappointing or confusing choices the first act was overall enjoyable. The solid vocal and acting performances surely didn't hurt, either.

No pictures this time since I'm at work and can't access Instagram, I'll add them later if I remember. You can find the review for Act 1 here.

The same disclaimer applies: I have not seen other replica productions in full, only pictures, but I have seen the West End production in March. I do consider using Broadway/West End/replica productions as the one and true standard to judge non-replicas unfair in general, but I think it's fair to use them as a comparison to try and understand how these changes affect character dynamics and stuff like that, and to help in trying to understand the reasoning behind the choices made.

My visual memory is VERY poor, so if you've seen the show too and notice I remember something wrong please tell me so I can correct it! Also this is a long post, so please consider how much you want to scroll before clicking the read more.

MASQUERADE/WHY SO SILENT

There are a couple of videos of Masquerade floating around, so I believe everyone interested in this specific scene already has seen them. I have to say that the videos and pictures do not capture just how a light, peaceful and joyous moment it is.

After ending Act 1 with ominous red lighting and a lot of sharp shadows, Act 2 opens with a soft diffused light, slightly yellow as to mimic sunlight. In the beginning they turned on the little constellation lights in the ceilings, and it was absolutely beautiful! Then as the song progressed the lighting got a bit stronger and they also used some of the seating are alights, to create this impression of the stage being bigger and almost overflowing towards the audience. For a split second, it did feel as if we too were part of what was going on on stage.

The scene opens as always with Firmin and André covered by cloaks and recognizing each other. André is wearing a regular fancy suit, and Firmin reveals a super poofy and VERY pink dress. I knew about this going in and tried to keep my opinion neutral, I'm happy to report it's not played for laughs beyond the initial reveal (you REALLY do not expect that after seeing André is dressed in a fancy but uncreative way), it really feels as if Firmin thought "Hmmm a fancy dress party, I don't see why I should not wear a nice, pink, huge dress!" and that's it.

The ensemble is dressed in what look like Venetian masks inspired costumes and they get on stage dancing with similarly attired mannequins. The effect is very nice and just the right amount of creepy, the mannequins move very smoothly so at times you really can't tell which figures are actors and which ones are mannequins.

At one point the sea of masks parts and the named characters appear. Madame Giry is dressed in her usual black dress, Meg is dressed like the music box's monkey, and Piangi, Carlotta, Raoul and Christine are dressed in "regular" elegant clothes. I can confirm Christine's dress is white, it looks pale yellow at times due to the lighting being warm for most of the scene. Christine's dress is actually pretty nice from what I could see, especially the lovely, decorated train. I have not checked but it could also be pretty historically accurate in general! Also, it moves beautifully when Christine is picked up by Raoul, I'm not sold on it being white but

There is a moment where Raoul and Christine are alone on the stage, golden confetti start pouring down from the ceiling and it looks extremely pretty, then you see that the ensemble didn't just leave the stage but spilt over into the galleries and near the orchestra pit! Between this and the lighting effects, it does look like the aim of this scene was easing the audience back into the "theatre world" after intermission, if so it does work quite well.

My one complaint is that the second half of Masquerade sounds very slow and I can't figure out why? For the title song getting sped up I do at least have other elements that help guess why, but here I'm completely stumped and it's driving me crazy!

The atmosphere in the scene is extremely relaxed and airy, so the sudden mood change at the Red Death's arrival is very jarring in a good way. I won't lie, I do miss the "traditional" costume, but considering how complex and time-consuming it must be to create and maintain, I do understand why they opted for a simpler solution.

So, the Red Death is just a red, formless cloak holding the huge Don Juan Triumphant manuscript. I actually liked it, it did remind me of the way Death or Destiny/Fate are often represented in illustrations, and it looks like the cloak is made in a velvet-like fabric that made the red even more intense and blood-like. The slow, ominous advance is still very effective and creepy, and when the ensemble falls over the figure only to reveal the cloak is empty it's a nice moment of old-fashioned stage magic.

But wait, Christine is not on stage, so what about the final verse? It turns out Christine was still in the audience, nearby the orchestra pit, made invisible by darkness and our attention being elsewhere. Then she gets suddenly illuminated and we see that the Phantom is actually standing beside her, he says the "your chains are still mine/You will sing for me!" lines, all very effective. I like this staging because it does make you feel that Christine's safety was all just an illusion, the Phantom can get near her whenever he likes and his illusions and tricks make him hard to stop. It makes it more believable that Christine is later willing to put herself at risk to make it all stop despite the huge emotional toll it takes on her, because we are shown just how Raoul could not help her here even if he wanted, despite his promise and willingness to protect her.

The second complaint I have about this scene is that at the very end you can clearly see and hear the Phantom just... running away from Christine and into the wings, which ruins the overall effect a bit. If they find a way to make him disappear more gracefully, then it'd be a perfect way to end the scene.

There's the interlude between Madame Giry and Raoul, and oh boy is Raoul PISSED. Other people have already commented that he doesn't play a super sweet, naive Raoul, but rather a more serious and mature one, and it's nice to see how Bradley portrays him as capable of great tenderness but also of having a spine. He's not politely requesting or pleading with Madame Giry, he's commanding it. This lady is withholding information that could be used to make Christine's life less scary and he won't allow it!

It's not my favourite portrayal of all time, but it fits well with the overall mood and themes and makes for a more tridimensional Raoul which is good in my opinion.

NOTES II/TWISTED EVERY WAY

This scene is set in the same way as Notes I, but since the mood is quite different I found that it being kinda showed in half of the stage wasn't as much of a problem. The stage set is once again angled to create a wall of the managers' office, but this time it gets used as Christine, more and more overwhelmed, leans against it in a dramatic fashion.

A couple of things I noticed: André does a long-ish pause after the first "But why not?" as if he needs a second or two to realize that something's wrong with Christine's refusal, it's a nice touch. Christine starts having her breakdown when everyone is asking her questions, Raoul gets all protective, and when he sings "They can't make you" he's GLARING at the others and physically putting himself between them and Christine (you can hear the quiet menace in his voice perfectly in the audio I took, it's amazing how much emotions Bradley puts in that line). Carlotta has a dark orange dress, which I like less than her green one in Notes I but it would be pretty with a bit more texture, chile Christine is wearing a cute green dress (the colour is a bit of a mix between sage and mint green, similar to the cloak she wears in Wishing).

After the Phantom's letter has been read (Madame GIry keeps silently mouthing the words throughout), Christine says "I can't. I won't do it" in a frankly panicked but determined tone (I don't remember if it's something in the current West End version, but I don't have it on my Original London Cast CD). It's pretty clear during the scene that what happened to the end of Masquerade shook her to the core, and now everything that reminds her of the Phantom or, worse, having to face him directly is a big trigger for her. Amelia has some truly great anguished and conflicted expressions in this scene.

The next part has some nice details: one of the managers (I don't remember who, sorry) bangs his hand on the table during the "We make certain our men are there!" verse, Raoul flips through the Don Juan Triumphant manuscript trying to find something to be used against the Phantom, and there is another perfectly timed longer pause before Raoul, André and Firmin ask Madame Giry to help them during which the three men exchange a meaningful look. Just before Madame Giry's cry of "Madness" turns the attention on her, Carlotta can be seen approaching a very strained Christine and opening her mouth as if to speak to her in a more regular, non-diva way, but then she gets interrupted and nothing comes of it.

Thanks to the way AIAOY has been changed, Raoul's bits in Twisted Every Way sound very sincere and not manipulative as sometimes they risk doing. His change of heart clearly comes 100% from realizing that this is a dangerous plan but Christine clearly can't be happy or even just serene knowing the person she rightfully fears can get to her whenever he wants. Christine's "I know I can't refuse" is truly heartbreaking, there's a sharp, painful intonation that really makes you feel her desperation and how trapped she must feel in this moment.

SITZPROBE

This one plays pretty close to what you can expect, there's not much that can be changed. BUT! Do you remember that Reyer is never seen? In this scene the piano is turned so you don't see him, apart from an admonishing hand when Piangi keeps missing his note. So when the creepy music starts and the piano turns revealing there's no longer anyone behind it, and it's playing on its own... let me tell you, it felt pretty chilling even knowing that the moment was coming!

WISHING YOU WERE SOMEHOW HERE AGAIN

Ok, this and Wandering Child are the scenes in Act 2 that need some work to be more than a vehicle for some nice singing.

Christine is wearing a mint green cloak with sleeves, I don't hate it BUT the sleeves make it bulky and a bit goofy at times. I think a sleeveless cloak works better for this scene since it allows for some more dramatic swishing and looks more elegant, but the one used is serviceable. Oh, no red scarf, but Christine has a red rose she puts...where?

The big issue here is that this scene is painfully empty, there's a projection of silhouettes of tombstones in the background but otherwise, there is NOTHING. Now, listen, I'm not a fan of the giant sarcophagus used in the West End, but having some tasteful fake tombstones, some weeping angels, etc., would go a long way to add visual interest to the scene and make it clearer that Christine is paying homage to her dead father, instead of just leaving a rose on the ground seemingly at random. Have her father's tomb be decorated with, say, an angel playing a musical instrument, maybe a violin, and you're set! and this would also be useful in the next song, so it's a 2x1 deal! Also, it would be nice to see this specific production lean into this scene's gothic aesthetic.

Vocally, as I said elsewhere, Amelia Milo's voice could use a bit more strength but she's not bad at all, and she does put a lot of emotion into the song. She starts mournful, but quickly ramps up the energy and you can really feel that this Christine is so ready to stop clinging to the past and face the future, a new life, that will be different from the one she knew but can make her just as happy if not more.

WANDERING CHILD/BRAVO, MONSIEUR

Ok, we have to talk about the angel wings. I tried to avoid this as long as possible, but the moment has arrived.

Why why why WHY does the Phantom hover while sporting a pair of black angel wings.

I suspect this... thing happens because there are no pyrotechnics in the scene. The use of flames, sparks and the likes in performances is STRICTLY regulated in Italy, especially in indoor venues, so I think these were added to have the Phantom do something "cool" in the scene instead of using the skull cane spray sparks everywhere.

The issue is, they are so random and don't fit the aesthetic of the rest of the musical at all! I would LOVE if there was a suggestion of wings: the Phantom appearing in front of an angel statue, or the wings being a shadow, so you're left wondering if this is Christine's suggestion showing itself to us. As it is now, it is something that throws you out of the show's immersion and that's the second worst crime a musical can commit in my eyes (the first one is being boring).

And another thing is, it is a nice effect, and it works well, I can see it fitting in nicely if they went in a different direction when it comes to themes and overall aesthetic. It's not bad per se, it's just misplaced.

The start of the scene, before the wings appear, isn't bad. Apart from still being empty, the fact that Christine is in a confused emotional state due to the stuff that happened between the end of Masquerade and now and so she falls again under the Phantom's influence is made quite clear, she even falls on her knees similarly to how she did in The Mirror. But then the wings come out, the Phantom starts to hover, Raoul arrives and everything gets confused. I admit I really don't know if something happened and I missed it, or if I was just confused by the scene in general. you could even tell the audience's applause sounded a bit uncertain.

So yeah, that's two other scenes that will need a bit of work to be made good. Luckily Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again just needs a proper background, and that in turn can help a bit with Wandering Child.

DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT/THE POINT OF NO RETURN

There are some interesting changes in this one, so first let's get the small stuff out of the way.

There is only one "Secure!" being shouted, and while there is the usual Phantom's projected voice effect you can tell that it's achieved differently since there are no speakers scattered across the theatre. The second one is a technical limitation so it's understandable and it's still cool, just a bit less impressive, but having 2-3 "Secure!" coming from the main doors is a very cool effect that I absolutely loved in London, it helps so much with the immersion and I wish they'd kept it. Also, the sharpshooter is not in the orchestra pit, but rather in one of the other boxes of the prop stage, which makes sense given the staging.

Sooo, let's get to the Don Juan Triumphant bit and the infamous cloak. First of all, I want to make clear that I've never been 100% on board with the classic disguise. It always looked to me out of place in the play-within-a-play, it is definitely something that the Phantom would use in the "real" world, but clashes with the clothing of the other characters we see in DJT and doesn't really make sense if you assume that Aminta is expecting yes a secret meeting, but not to be deceived. One could argue that the Phantom insisted the costume be this way, but then this would be suspicious and I'd find it strange that no one suspected it would be needed for something. So, in short, I don't dislike the classic costume but I don't really love it either because it's clear it's a costume made for us, the real audience, instead of the fictional audience/play.

I don't love the hat+cloak combo, either, but it makes sense in the way the scene is set. The atmosphere is quite convivial, the ensemble is not only setting the table but some folks (Passarino included) are sitting at it, it looks like they all just finished conspiring and laying the plot. The costumes aren't super elaborate, but I think they worked well in conveying that in the scene there are folks of different social extraction and ways of life.

Passarino's hat and cloak work well to signify that he's a dashing young man, yes, but he's also a working servant: these are believable attire for someone who has to travel or spend time outside, they do tell you something about this character that we see for a handful of seconds, but if we were watching the actual play it would be important to get a nuanced portray of the character!

So yeah, while I don't love this costume? It does look like something made for the play-within-the-play, not something made for PotO, if this makes sense. I do have some issues with the colour, it does work well with Aminta's red and white and it's an ochre yellow that does photograph horribly but isn't too bad in person. And yes, it's very wide and in a stiffer fabric than the classic cloak so it looks clumsier when the Phantom is standing still, but it looks fine when he's moving. Maybe making it in black and a lighter fabric could work, I'd personally love for it to be a dark red similar to Red Death's cloak but then it would be too similar in tone to Aminta's dress (where the red or pink paired with the white is Symbolyc and thus important).

So, yeah, it's not the best, it is a bit weird at first if you're used to the classic black cloak, but it makes so much sense if you consider this is a costume diegetic to the DJT play! Aminta's dress is also simple, a bit of a "generic young country girl", but it has a silhouette that's quite flattering on Amelia and it does its job of representing the young, innocent girl ready to embrace passion etc.

Ok, I think that's enough words spent talking about something that's not the actual music and singing of this piece! The Point of no Return starts sung by Paingi up until "You've decided, decided", then the Phantom takes over and Ramin does his "singing imitating Piangi's accent" thing for a while, before dropping it. I saw people complaining about this, it looks like during the first night the switch was a bit later, but as it is now it works. I think it could be improved by making the change a bit more gradual as it is for the various notes. I did see a lady that was clearly at her first viewing of the show making an "Oh!" surprised face when the voice change happened, so I think it works especially well for first-timers that don't know what will happen, but only that something is bound to happen.

Please don't ask me to tell you stuff about the blocking because I was distracted by everything going on to really take note of it beyond lots of touching, very sensual vibes overall, and a nice bit of leg from Christine at one point. A notable difference is that Christine does realize what's going on only at the end of the song. I do like the timing because it matches with the last "We passed the point of no return" and the music's shift. The song doesn't end abruptly because the Phantom has been unmasked, but quietly and sadly because now Christine knows and the Phantom has to choose what to do. And the Phantom chooses to reveal himself to her (not the unmasking, just taking off the hat).

Raoul jumps onstage, along with the police officer, and Christine moves in order to protect the Phantom. She's clearly terrified but still doesn't want to see him shot dead. What follows is, simply put, one of the saddest All I Ask of You reprises I've ever heard or watched.

I always kinda wondered, what exactly is the Phantom's aim here? Does he just want to share the stage with her? Does he plan to kidnap her again? Does he believe that if only Christine sees the (creepy) opera he's written for her and sings the (creepy) longing song he's written she'll just fall for him as if nothing ever happened? Does he have a plan at all?

I am happy to report that in this staging there is one, simple reply: this Phantom is utterly, completely broken. His music is no longer enough, he needs/wants his music AND Christine to perform him. He wants her to see him, to acknowledge him, yes she does recognize him first in the scene, but he still has the chance to just get out of there. Instead, he reveals himself because he so desperately hopes, against all odds, that singing again together with Cristine the music he composed for her will have changed her mind, made her see how much he cares, made her feel how he feels for her etc. It was honestly a heartbreaking moment to witness, but yeah reading "the Phantom reveals himself at the end of PonR" and seeing it in context is VERY different. 

The impression I got is that the Phantom spent six months spiralling into depression and THIS is the best he could come up with to try and make Christine speak to him again. He's desperate, and he knows it. You can feel it in his voice, you can see it in the way he's calm, almost resigned until the unmasking. For him, it all boils down to Christine's reply, to her accepting him or not. I don't think he's even stopped to consider what to do after she replies because that will be such a defining, world-changing moment. and I think that just for a moment the Phantom allows himself hope, the tiniest bit of it. Christine is clearly scared to death, but she's not running away. She's even protecting him, in a way. And then she unmasks him.

DOWN ONCE MORE/TRACK DOWN THIS MURDERER

The gondola does not disappear in the wings, so there's no quick change and Christine is in her AMinta dress. The Phantom does give her the veil, putting it on her head when he sees she's not doing it herself, and gives her what looks like a wedding dress but Christine is understandably thinking about her current predicament and when the Phantom sees she does not intend to wear it he just tosses it away and gives her the bouquet instead. I do like that there's no implication of Christine being forced to change, and it does keep intact the fact that the Phantom did have a wedding dress, veil and bouquet prepared for her.

When singing "A mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing" Ramin raised a hand to touch the disfigured side in a way that is just heartbreaking. I know I'm using this word a lot, but I feel it's true for this portrayal: a very physical Phantom with a lot of self-loathing, a lot of repressed emotions that get directed inwards with no way or no one to help express them, accompanied by the occasional outburst when they get simply too much to be repressed any longer. Isolated and emotionally stunted is the name of the game here, but in a way that makes you see just how deprived of regular socialization and company he was during his life.

Another interesting thing I noticed is that when Christine sang "It's in your soul that the true distortion lies", in the split second before noticing Raoul's arrival the Phantom raised a hand and was starting to reply to Christine, and I'd really, really like to know how he'd try to get himself out of that one! It was a blink-and-you-'ll-miss-it moment, but I found it interesting that this Phantom's reaction to Christine's accusation was not dismay or anger, but rather trying to talk it out.

Then our boy Raoul appears in all his damp, well-toned and bare-chested glory! Bradley Jaden is quite ripped, I think by now we've all seen the pictures, and let me tell you they do not do him justice. He's also barefoot, and he stumbles on the scene while very convincingly gasping after the swim in the underground lake.

The suspenders are still on because they are clearly used when he gets hanged by the Phantom, since in this scene he is literally hanging, his feet a good 50 cm or so from the ground. My guess is that the "Y" part of the suspenders on the back latches onto some kind of support built into the Phantom's bedframe to take pressure off the neck or something like that. It still looks extremely uncomfortable, and Bradley was clearly tensing a lot of muscles to maintain the position. So yeah, apart from the eye candy, it looks like a challenging thing to do while you're also singing and acting. I still have no explanation for why they did this instead of dampening his shirt, I guess they took a good look at Bradley Jaden's pecs and thought "Oh people will love that!" and asked him if he minded spending the last 10 minutes onstage half naked? I really don't know.

Raoul was convincingly rational (as much as possible) in this scene, he did get angry but it was also clear he was trying to keep his cool and reason if possible because his #1 priority was: to help Christine get out of there. And I think this creates a beautiful dynamic in this scene, where Christine starts angry and scared but then sees that Raoul is trying to keep his promise and jumped into a freezing lake to reach her and be at her side despite the danger. And this in turn gives her the strength to face her fear, which is now not just hypothetical but becoming very real, and find the will she needs to save Raoul in turn. They can save each other because they have built a reciprocal trust and do actively support each other during most of the second act.

Unfortunately, there is the choking. For those who don't know what I'm referring to, when Raoul comes in Christine tries to run to him and the Phantom stops her, and ends up choking her a bit before realizing what he's doing and letting her go. I really didn't like it in this instance. I think there are some actors that can make it work if they play a very aggressive, wounded Phantom that lashes out at the world, but I am having trouble fitting it in this portrayal where his negative emotions are clearly almost all directed inwards and where the Phantom tends to be quite gentle with Christine. Also, not only is he a murderer (twice), kidnapper, damaged property, and maybe kinda drugged Christine, but he's also physically abusive. Cool cool cool. I'd rather like it if they removed it.

When the Phantom realizes what he's doing he immediately lets Christine go (at least) and Christine tries to run to Raoul's side but he gets hanged by the Phantom. Christine gets PISSED in this version, while the Phantom is a bit more on the cooler, controlled side, and Raoul seems to sincerely regret his actions since they only made the situation worse. I have to say that even despite the distracting shirtlessness of Raoul, having him actually hanging instead of just… being mildly inconvenienced by a noose clearly big enough for his head to pass through does make it all a bit more believable. I do buy that this guy is really in a situation where he can't free himself.

I also really liked the "Angel of music, you deceived me /I gave my mind blindly" delivery: it's not angry but rather deeply mournful and regretful, since now it's Christine's turn to realize that her trust in the Angel of Music because of her clinging desperately to any scrap of her father's presence/memory is what led to all of this. In a way, this version underscores Christine's growth as she tries to become her own person without the influences of her father or of the Phantom guiding but also limiting her, it's one of the main themes and I liked how her realization is delivered here connects it clearly to All I Ask of You and Wandering Child conceptually.

So the big moment, the choice, arrives. In the preceding moments Raoul struggled even more frantically and now is losing consciousness, so when the Phantom delivers his ultimatum (a very weary, exhausted ultimatum) Christine just looks at Raoul one last time (she thinks) and this gives her the strength to decide and act.

After the kiss, the way the Phantom stands still for a while before sloooowly walking to Raoul and cutting the lasso is… I don't really know how to explain it. You take all the defeat, resignation and brokenness of when he revealed himself to Christine at the end of PonR and double or triple them, then add in all the self-loathing he displayed during the rest of the musical. He does now realize with crystal clear certainty that he'll never, ever have what he wants in the way he wants it, and this time he can't blame the world but only himself and his actions. He's beyond broke, beyond everything really. Weary and with nothing left to look forward to.

Raoul collapses to the ground, and Christine runs to him and physically helps him up and to the boat. No elegant, composed sitting: here Raoul and Christine are physically and psychologically exhausted, so there's no time for all of that as they almost stumble into the boat and it's the Phantom that shoves it away, sending them towards their freedom and out of the stage.

The Phantom sounds so distressed in the bit just before this, and the fact that the last "go now and leave me" is sung when he's alone on stage, having physically pushed away the one person that, despite everything and despite making the choice under extreme duress, was capable of staying beside him… ooof. You really feel that he has nothing left now, and maybe for the first time ever he truly wants to be alone, to disappear completely. Which of course makes the brief Masquerade reprise even more devastating than usual.

Now, the other big controversial change: the ring return. The Phantom is facing the other way when Christine comes in. It looks like she's debating whether to approach him or not, and then when he sings "Christine, I love you" she just leaves the ring and silently leaves. The Phantom hears something, turns, sees the ring and picks it up, and in that moment from off stage the All I Ask of You final reprise is heard, accompanied by a soft, golden light coming from above showing that Raoul and Christine are making their way to the surface and to the (metaphorical) light.

Why no interaction during the ring return? In this production, they are leaning a lot on the Phantom as being a toxic influence/relationship for Christine, not without its allure and charms, but also very dangerous and controlling. And when Christine sees him kill because he didn't get his way… well, she gets it quite quickly and actively tries to avoid him, but realizes that she's still pretty vulnerable to him and his influence. And I think not interacting with him at the very end represents her cutting off a toxic person, at this point any interaction would be dangerous to her, and an unkindness to him.

She knows she's still vulnerable to him, that despite everything he did she can still care about him because she's just that kind of person. At the same time, the Phantom did the morally right thing by pushing her away from him and it's clear it took him every ounce of willpower he had and he might not be able to do so again. So, when Christine hears him declaring his love to an empty room, she doesn't risk wasting all the effort they BOTH put in (plus Raoul, who literally risked his life for her) to say one last goodbye.

It's a big change, it does change the ending and their dynamic a lot, so I get it if you don't like it. But it makes sense, it has its place in the narrative of this specific production, and since it makes such a difference I think if you're used to the "regular" ring return you need to experience it after getting through all the previous emotional beats in order to be in the right mind space to accept it.

When the Phantom realizes that Christine is truly gone, he slowly makes his way to the bed and covers himself with the sheets as the ensemble (led by Madame Giry) bursts in. Meg approaches the covers and pulls them away, revealing an empty bed save from the Phantom's mask, which she brings to her mother who looks at it somberly, and they both raise it for the classic final "shot".

I am ambivalent about this choice. On one hand, I think it looks a bit silly and could probably be implemented better, on the other hand I think it's meant to be a reference to the Phantom letting himself die in the book, and I did like it as a metaphor for his death, and having the ensemble kinda witnessing it and him not being so alone in his final moments.

I've decided to make a different post for my opinion about the singing performances and my overall opinion about what works, what doesn't, and so on, which can also be a TL;DR of sorts since I realize not everyone is interested in a song-by-song comparison.

For now, I'll just say that if you go in expecting West End or Broadway levels of opulence you will be disappointed by the stage sets, costumes, etc., which are rarely memorable, at times flops, more often are ok and serviceable (meaning they are not distracting and don't get in the way of the performance, even if they're not anything special).

If you want to see the story and characterization you already know, then you can watch one of the tens of bootlegs available and enjoy the subtle changes each actor brings to the characters (I know I do!), but if you'd like a different take on the main characters and key scenes then this will get your brain going.

If you go in with a preset idea of what you want to get out of the experience, chances are there'll be areas where it underdelivers and interesting stuff you might not notice while if you go in without trying to force your expectations on the show, then you'll probably come away with some stuff you liked, some stuff that you're not so sure about but is interesting or might work with a change or two, and yes, some stuff you didn't like at all, or left you confused, or is just plain weird.

Overall it was a fun and interesting experience, the vocal performances were great, the acting choices captivating and I went home with some new interpretations of the main characters while thinking about if I can make a trip to Milan in October to see it again. Despite some major flaws, it is doing something interesting and engaging in its own way and I'd love to see it again knowing what to expect.

[codeandcanvas]

After privating all of my posts here (I am never deleting anything, not completely, that is), I have chanced upon the capital C graphic design Community here on Tumblr, which I have instantly joined to built rapport and connection with other graphic designers and graphic design students here on Tumblr (at least with the ones who are also interested in building together and in public, lol).

You can find the community here: https://www.tumblr.com/communities/graphic-design

And since I have said before that I want to do weekly round‑ups to look at what I was doing the last seven days, this post doubles (or triples?) as that, as a fauxrst post (false first post, I like those), as well as creating something (a)new.

The last week I was building an’ changing a few things on my website, drawing inspiration from all sorts of people, all sorts of places, all sorts of nets.

I have added a couple of new pages to my WordPress‑based website, and moved around navigational links.

There is of course the page with the design links to websites and podcasts you can use in your RSS feed readers of choice, provided you do a little bit of digging (if you need some help with that, you can write me any way you like, and we’ll look into it together)

The new stuff I put in the footer, following inspiration from Scott Boms website.

I have a page for friends now (currently made up of my teachers, tutors, and professors, mostly), a page for what I am doing now, called Now (which is a really cool idea, and it fits neatly between the very thin substance of a status post, and a long form post like this one, both in size, as well as now‑ness; you can find out more about that here: https://nownownow.com/about)

But what I think is the most important addition to my website, is the page about tools, “Werkzeuge” in German.

Here I could finally dump all of my graphic design hacker tools, at least that is how I think of them.

My system consists of two pillars: new information, and how it is being stored. I believe that everyone rolls their own tools after a while. I would just love it if somebody would find some use for mine, if only to build something better from that.

The two RSS feeds linked to from the footer are neat: you have the usual feed for the whole site, but I also provided an RSS feed of my custom status updates, which you can see on Home.

These status updates are my own, most recent solution to my issues with posting, well, status updates on my socials:

you know, issues like

am I posting the same status update to every net I have an account for,

will I automate and schedule the same content everywhere and be a boring, cold machine, and

do I want to burn myself out coming up thesaurus’d variants of the same post for every net?

So now there are two ways to check (three, really) in what mess I’ve gotten myself into recently: you can check my Now page, you can look at my Statuses, or you can check it out using your own, third way.

As for my study schedule, I am glad that summer is over, because I clearly cannot function during summer. I hope with cooler days ahead, I can keep a cooler head while practicing the art of not judging what I do or don’t do. I might have gotten my degree, but I want to learn so much more.

Started reading Creative Code by John Maeda and sort of forensically/archeologically recreating the years during which it was written and printed, because these past twenty years have basically muddied the tracks quite a bit, so to speak. It is a good read.

And I think I have covered the whole week now, broadly enough.

I need to figure out which hashtags should go with this post. I need to look at the top posts for each tag I think could fit, and then consider what being in the top means for each tag I am looking at.

Eh, let’s go through this together:

huge tags first (>1 million followers)

#drawing

6.1M followers

1.3K recent posts

#artwork

3M followers

1.3K recent posts

#illustration

16M followers

962 recent posts

#digital painting

1.6M followers

157 recent posts

#digital art

5.5M followers

3.5K recent posts

#sketch

4.8M followers

662 recent posts

#traditional art

1.2M followers

448 recent posts

#graphic design

5.8M followers

this one doesn’t even show a recent posts count at all? But it feels extremely dead if you look at recent posts under that tag.

We’ll figure this out together. If it is graphic design, then I will tag it as such. If it is something else, then I will not tag it as graphic design. I think that this is a solid foundation towards connecting.

So, what is this post?

It is about my website, it is about studying, about me being a graphic designer, and about software I use. Also, it is about creative coding, generative art, a book, and that I use WordPress.

So I wonder which tags I will use? I prefer low counts when it comes to hashtags. Five sounds reasonable, nice for chunking, too,

So there. I might not be a student anymore, but that means that I have just proven to have the discipline to get my degree, so studyblr fits.

Hi everyone! Hello world.

[the1975attheirverybest]

im so fucking happy for you that you had such a great time and i would honestly love to hear more about it - 🐸

Omgggg you are so so sweet 🥹🥹🩷🩷 gosh I’m already emotional as it is now I’m gonna cry hahaha. Just filled with love and appreciation for this fandom tbh. Y’all are wonderful. I love you.

Ok this is gonna be sooo sappy and sooo sentimental and silly so I would 10000% not be mad if you were kinda judging me. I think I’d be judging me if I were you.

It was so so so so good. The energy in the room was phenomenal. The crowd was great I think. Not a lot of people stiffly standing and filming the whole show. I would say most of the front half of the pit only filmed a few bits but was dancing and singing along the majority of the time.

Matty and Ross know I exist 🥹🥹🥹 they interacted with me and laughed when I was in complete and utter shockkkkk. I blew matty a kiss and he reciprocated (he also sent kisses to other fans in the crowd like it wasn’t just me. I’m delusional but not THAT delusional hahaha). He made fun of me. And when I gestured for him to take his shirt off during “maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes” he stubbornly said no so I pretended to be mad and he did a little bow.

The songs were phenomenal. Great mix of greatest hits/ classics and some underrated / lesser known stuff.

There’s just….something about the boys. Like sure live music in general is a great vibe and it makes me emotional snd excited and stuff. So, when Dora Jar performed the opening act (guys check her out she’s amazing) I was still dancing along and having fun. Cuz good music is good. But when the boys came on??? ABSOLUTELY SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE. Something about singing the same words as them. At the same time as them. Looking directly into their eyes and having them look back at you….this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever said in my entire life but it felt like home. Like we were all there together and it was the safest place on the planet. Like everyone believed in every single word that they were screaming out. You could totally see that these 4 boys absolutely love their jobs. They radiate joy and fun.

Polly is a fuckin Angel for JC2005 and John Waugh (my REAL crush, sorry matty) was sooo phenomenal I had a hard time looking him in the eyes without blushing.

I really really didn’t want it to end. Like when it was time to leave the venue I was sad.

But really it’s the fans. People who’ve seen the boys before were like hyping up those of us who have never been to a 75 gig before. And like the line leader girlie was so so sweet she kept checking in whenever a fav song of mine that I told her about before was performed or something. And the people in front of us were so so nice and cheerful. The whole vibe was just perfect.

Oh and Matty is even more beautiful in person (though teenyyyy tinyyyy) than he is in pictures and I really didn’t think it’d be possible.

I’m still like bursting into tears any time I think about the show or you guys. Or the boys. Or how lucky I am to have all of it. Just soooo full and happy and inspired and grateful

[stormhearty]

Hello again, haha :)

Good luck and good work to you! I haven't read Eris's yet, just the reader's and Tarquin's (which I loved). Let's modernize it! Cass😳🙀 ah, I'm fine! It's been a bit of a slog, but today is Sunday and I've taken the opportunity to rest a bit (sleep😂).

I've never read a manwha, but it sounds good. An inspiring manwha! LOL. A recommendation of your favorite?

It's a wonder she's not dead yet. She needs to go to the police station and report him for abandoning a child🤣🤣

Maybe you need to see if the books on your to-read list are also discounted (just to check). Lmao. Well, I'm helping, since you said you have a goal of reading more!

The Narnia books give me the impression that they're much better than the movies! I'll read them one day!

A tag just for me? I feel so adorable! An emoji tag? I love ducks 🦆, or could it be a name? Emerald, because I love green things. So undecided. I could be a parrot soon, since I talk more than I should because my thoughts are always racing and I'm also racing to keep up with them so I don't forget. Make up your mind!

Don't worry, I know how working as a nurse takes up a lot of time and I'd be in bed until I had to go back to work too. I understand😹 I'm studying for today's lesson and I've jumped at the chance to come here hehe. Thank you! I love expressing my opinion, especially if it's about something I like. YES! Ms. SJM should explain a bit more about the other courts. I confess I'd like to see a bit more of the Autumnal Court(?) I don't know why, but I'd like to see more about Eris and the place my dear Lucien had to leave. I also confess that part of my curiosity is to get to know more about Eris, because, amazingly, I have a crush on him after reading a few things here! (Even though I know the poor guy barely has any screen time. Judge me) LMAO. I think a lot of fans were expecting this🤣🤣 let's make a protest for Tarquin to appear more. Maybe Helion too! Bring them all!!!😂😳 Note: Before I felt more mysterious without emoji, but I love it. I feel mysterious with a brand now😘 🦆

Sorry for the broken responses though! And I decided to just put together both of your asks~ It might be easier for me to reply to both!

And thank you! I do hope you enjoy the Eris one! It's very angsty~ Yup! I am having a difficult time with the Modern!Cassian one though~ More like always having difficulty starting it but that's a me problem.

And that's me the past few days. It was my weekend at work and all I did was lay in bed attempting to get some sleep. As usual. And then yesterday I had dinner with coworkers it was fun, that's why I haven't been able to reply to anything the last few days.

My favorite manwha reads (some are finished, some are on hiatus and some are ongoing):

Finished:

Who Made Me a Princess (this is a must to read)

Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Mansion

The First Night with the Duke

Flirting with the Villain's Dad

Ongoing:

Villains Are Destined to Die

A Stemother's Marchen

How to Win My Husband Over

The Siren: Becoming the Villain's Family

I Married the Male Lead's Dad

The Dark Lord's Confession

Hiatus:

Secret Lady

Roxana (How to Protect the Main Lead's Older Brother)

The Villainess is a Marionette

Into the Light, Once Again

The Archduke's Adopted Saint

I can't list all of them because it'd be so much! There are many manwha's I have dropped over the years because it got really boring or I lost interest.

But I actually own already LOTR and Narnia books! The Narnia was a behemoth of a book since it was the compilation of all the books. So I have to lug that thing around when I have to read it 🤣🤣 And they are! I did just love the actors for the movie version of Narnia.

Well, I think it has been touched on here on Tumblr that Autumn Court has so many hidden secrets and the betrayal and all that stuff, the secret affairs. It sounds so spicy compared to everywhere else. And SAME! I was in love with Eris even though he barely had any scenes. And our boi, Lucien~

Oh my god. If Rhysand wasn't Feyre's mate I would have so petitioned for Tarquin to be with her. LMAO.

Mysterious with a brand~ my duckie nonnie~

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Just the Two of Us - Chapter 1

Wahoo! First chapter of that new story of mine! I wanted to try something different for this first chapter. Less exposition and more straight to the point. We'll get to learn more about Vee and other stuff in future chapters, but for now I wanted to lay out the first meeting.

Events are after the 2nd movie. Dunno exactly how long after, but it's been some time for sure. Please note that all characters are depicted as adults. Mature subjects may come in later chapters (nsfw, of course language 'cause I have the mouth of a fucking sailor, deep emotional stuff, most probably some intense action and blood - 'cause this mama loves to be intense). There's gonna be some humor too, don't worry~

I've started this fic first for myself, but I was liking the various drafts I did and I wanted to share 💜

Title is inspired by the song "Just the Two of Us" by Grover Washington.

[First Chapter - you're here!] // [Next Chapter - incoming]

And in an instant my soul trembled Meeting your eyes didn't feel like the first time Deep within me I knew - I simply knew That forever I'd be entranced by you

There was something about this late August's night that felt different.

Maybe it was this warmth that had some moisture lingering in the air. Or this surreal feeling that was now creeping under Vee's skin as her friend April was leading her into a dark alley. Who knows, really.

"You have to promise me, Vee. You must keep this encounter a secret. Never tell anyone about what you're going to see."

When the reporter had asked for help regarding friends that needed a hand with translation issues, of course Vee accepted. But now the woman was slowly starting to second-guess her choice. She knew April had no mean bone in her however, trusting her then feeling like the right thing to do...

"I dunno why it's getting so serious all of a sudden, but I promise you, April."

"And I know you'll keep that promise," added the brunette with a soft smile.

Their heels' clicking came to a stop against the pavement, the reporter taking some seconds to check her surroundings before bringing a watch to her left wrist up, pressing a button and saying: "It's alright, we're ready." Vee slightly frowned at that action until she heard movement from above, some things now falling and moving in the shadows of the alley.

"Now, Vee, please don't freak out," instantly tried to reassure April, placing herself before her friend and trying to keep Vee's focus on her. "I assure you, they're friends."

Now the intrigue was killing Vee's curiosity, her gaze moving from April's, now finally noticing new forms appearing in the dim lights of the alley. The first shape was already impressive in size, piercing blue eyes going straight across her soul. She noticed green scales, a blue bandana, a shell?! Vee's eyes were wide open as her mouth simply opened and closed like a fish out of water, unable to form words. She shyly pointed out at the creature, grabbing her friend's arm out of pure instinct.

"It's alright, Vee," added April.

Other forms came forward, their looks different, yet all sharing those reptilian features. Orange, red, and purple bandanas added to the blue. All were staring at Vee, silent, trying to judge her reaction - afraid she'd be scared, most probably. Vee finally found back her voice, slight gasps of air exhaling from her lungs. She couldn't help her smile, slightly shaking her friend's arm she was still holding, blurting out in exclamation:

"Holy shit!!"

She moved away from April and now forward to the newcomers. She did keep her distance, not wanting to provoke any harsh reactions. Her eyes could barely stay in place, noticing new details on each individual she'd look at.

"April, what the fuck!" she added, turning to the brunette. "Your friends look awesome!"

"Told ya April has hot friends and this one looks cool," piped one of the creatures - the orange one - towards the red one, which resulted in some tsks and a playful slap on his shoulder.

"You're not scared?" asked April, moving to stand close to her friend again.

"Well, I mean..." Vee took another glance at the four, vaguely gesturing them. "I guess I'm more... surprised?! It's not everyday you see- … see, uh.." she paused, frowning a little, hands on her hips. "What are you guys, anyway?"

That brought some smiles on their faces, tension finally easing. The blue one spoke first:

"We are mutant ninja turtles, ma'am," he answered with one polite nod.

"Oh sure, that makes sense," acknowledged Vee, still frowning.

Her brain was running a hundred miles per second, trying to assess everything. They were giant speaking turtles, for crying out loud! Most people would've ran away at the sight of them, but Vee felt nothing else than pure fascination at the moment. And knowing they were friends with April, that did facilitate the encounter.

"So, April, that's the friend you spoke about?" brought up another mutant, the one wearing a red do-rag.

"Oh, yes, right, let me do the presentations," started the reporter, finally getting in motion. She first gestured around Vee's frame: "Guys, this is Vee!" She next started from left to right, the first one being the turtle wearing an orange bandana: "So this is Michelangelo-"

"Call me Mikey, sweetface," he quickly added, winking.

"Don't cut me, Mikey, that's rude," playfully bantered April, then moving to the red one. "This one's Raphael. Don't worry, he looks like a brute but he's really sweet."

"Depends on who yer askin'," smirked the large one.

"Now that's Leonardo, their leader, and finally over here we've got Donatello. You'll mostly be working with him for the task at hand."

Vee's eyes followed suit and landed on the tall terrapin adorning a purple bandana. Compared to the others he was slimmer in frame, wore glasses and presented various tech on his person. Vee paid no mind as she moved towards him, extending her hand as a greeting, out of pure formality and habit.

"Hi! I look forward to getting started."

The other paused for a second, his gaze glued to her hand. He only got in motion once April gently elbowed him, finally holding Vee's hand to return the greeting.

"Likewise."

A strong shiver went through Vee, seeing how her hand looked so small in his. Her green eyes crossed his golden ones, the exchange quickly over.

"So," started Leonardo. "April told us you can help us translate things from French to English. That's correct?"

"Yes," answered Vee with a smile. "It's my first language, I won't have any issues with that."

"You don't sound French at all," added Michelangelo. "Where's your accent?"

"Oh, sorry I don't sound like a movie stereotype," added the woman with slight annoyance, although playful. "I've been learning and speaking English from a very young age, since in Canada both English and French are the two offical languages."

"Wait, they speak French in Canada? I thought you'd be from France or somethin'!" continued the orange one.

"Welp, we all learn something new everyday!" pointed Vee.

And boy was she learning something completely new today.

***

Of all the places she thought she'd go to tonight, Vee didn't think it'd be in the sewers. The group was making its way through large undisturbed canals, April in front and discussing with Leo and Raph. As Vee was behind with Mikey and Donnie, she did start a conversation with the latter in order to be up to speed with the project.

"So, what am I going to work with? Should I wait until we get to the place before I get more details, or-?"

"You're totally gonna do some super secret spy stuff," said Mikey right away, playfully.

"Well, not totally," objected Donatello with a soft sigh, his attention now on Vee. "If I may brief you a little; we've intercepted communications from an enemy-"

"The Foot clan!"

"-Yes the Foot, thanks Mikey. And they seem to have developped an alliance with someone overseas, speaking French. All conversations are in audio form. I've tried to learn the language, but we're in a rush and I must admit that it's been kind of hard."

"Understandable, French is one hell of a language to learn," softly smiled Vee.

"And I didn't want to put those files through online translation services, as the information's nature is still unknown and I wouldn't want to risk any leaks of it. … Then April suggested you, and here we are."

"Here we are, indeed," added the woman. "It shouldn't be too difficult. My only concern would be regarding terms or keywords that are unknown to me; anything that may not be too familiar to me regarding this whole situation. But given the time, I could probably get through anything."

"Hey, by the way," said Mikey, diverting the subject a little. "Is your name really Vee? Sounds more like a nickname to me."

"Well aren't you the rude one tonight," slightly frowned Donnie.

"What?! I'm genuinely curious!"

Vee was still smiling: "No worries, it's not rude to ask! Indeed it's a nickname, since my full name can be quite a mouthful for English speakers at times. It's Véronique."

"Say what now?" added Mikey.

The woman couldn't hide her small laugh: "See! That's the kind of reaction I get everytime. That's why I tell people to call me Vee. Short and sweet!"

"Your name sounds beautiful though, what a shame," commented Donnie.

"Eyo, stop flirtin' back there," piped in Raph.

Mikey's chuckle echoed in the tunnel while Donnie's eyes rolled. They finally arrived to their destination; the Lair. Vee was instantly amazed as she witnessed the size of the place, all filled with interesting objects here and there.

"No way!" she breathed out with a large smile. "This place's amazing!"

That did boost the turtles' mood, enjoying to see such reaction from the woman. It was refreshing to meet someone new and see their fascination regarding their world.

"Where's Splinter?" asked April.

"He's out for the night to salvage some stuff for himself," answered Leonardo. "Plus he wanted to give us space for the newcomer."

"Didn't want to recreate a Casey situation?" added the brunette, amused.

"Oh I wish," chuckled Raph.

As the group was still moving forward, Vee leaned in to April, asking:

"Who's Splinter?"

"Their father and sensei. He's a rat."

"Oh! Of course...," added Vee as if it was normal, although intrigued.

They arrived to a workstation, many screens assembled to create a sort of digital alcove. Vee was instantly charmed, getting past her friend so she could get closer to the setup and admire it.

"Holy shit! Now that's a nice setup," she recognized, hands on her hips and looking up the screens.

"Finally, someone recognizes my creation," added Donnie, amused.

She turned to him.

"… Did you build all that by yourself? I mean … that's impressive! Is it only one computer? Or the machine must be a beast in order to support all those screens! And it must be quite the challenge to organize the desktop to spread on such a dome-like setup. What OS are you using? Windows? Linux? I hope it's not Apple, that stuff is a nightmare.-"

She stopped herself, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

"Oh, uhm, sorry I'm asking a lot of questions."

Man, Donnie's heart was suddenly beating fast...

"Please, don't apologize, you're probably the first person ever to be curious about my stuff!"

"Nerds alert," poked in Mikey.

That brought some laughs from the others, Donnie and Vee shyly smiling. The tall terrapin then moved to his computer, trying to shake away the feeling as he brought the files up.

"Do you want to give it a first listen and see what's up?" he asked the woman, trying to ignore the others behind.

"Yes, please," answered Vee, coming closer and wanting to get on the task at hand.

As the terrapin started the recording, the group was then silent, Vee frowning as she focused. The voices were surprisingly clear and the recording of a good quality. As a first listen, she did grasp that some arrangements were being made regarding a certain formula and two animals?

"Un loup et une tortue alligator?" she voiced outloud, puzzled.

"What's that, you got something?" asked April.

Vee's brows were still furrowed, pondering for a moment as she paused the recording. She looked back at Donatello.

"There's a lot of information being given in this. Can I borrow some stuff to help me out; headphones, and uh-" she glanced at his keyboard. "A smaller keyboard so I can type it out and make better sense of it."

"Of course," he answered, already on the move to gather the equipment.

Vee turned to the others, sighing.

"This might take a little while," she announced. "If I caught things correctly, they're talking about a formula – something to be injected, and two specific animals. I'll need to relisten a couple of times to better pinpoint what's going on."

"Why do I have the feeling it might be about that damn purple ooze," added Leo, looking at his brothers.

"If that's true," said Donnie, the requested items in his hands as he was back. "That would mean we'd probably have a lead about Stockman's whereabouts."

"Let's not jump to conclusions yet," said April.

As the terrapin finished setting the items up, he handed the headphones to Vee, then moving his chair around in order to offer it to her. Vee thanked him, taking place. She gave one last glance to the group before holding the headphones close to her ears.

"No need to wait for me, I'll call you guys when I'll be done with this. Hopefully it won't take too long."

***

Donnie had decided to stay closeby, in case she'd ever request for some assistance or any other item. He was standing and leaning against the desk opposite of the one Vee was sitting at, absent-mindedly browsing his phone. To be frank, he spent more time observing her, somehow entranced by the way she was working. She was a fast typer. She barely had to look at the keyboard as her fingers flew across the keys. At some points she'd be mumbling in French to herself, continuing to type. The terrapin did not notice his younger brother, Mikey, sliding in next to him, smiling as he said in a low, cheerful tone: ""Diiiiibs~"

"Oh for crying out loud," complained Donnie in a similar hushed tone.

"What? She looks cute and seems like a complete badass! Look at her being a freakin' pro hacker level typer."

"Sure, 'cause you know about hacking," half-smiled the purple banded one.

"All I'm saying, we rarely get any other ladies in here. Let me have a chance!"

"Whatever, man, I didn't say a thing," sighed Donnie, going back to his phone.

His brother slipped away, smirking. Finally alone again, the turtle's eyes did wander back to Vee's form. She was quite nice looking indeed. Her dark teal green hair were an uncommon choice, yet did communicate her carefree nature. Her overall look was more of a classic chic nature, yet dressing comfortably. Plus her large black frame glasses seemed to compliment her pale eyes perfectly – were they green? Also he had noticed her tattoos, especially the ones at her right hand, at her inner left forearm, and some hidden ones at her upper left chest and her wrists. She seemed like quite the interesting character, indeed... His attention snapped as he noticed the woman removing the headphones, a slight sigh of relief leaving her. Donnie brought a stool and installed it next to her, sitting by her side.

"So, what's the verdict?" he asked.

"I finished writing up the whole dialogue down, in French," she answered, vaguely gesturing the screen. "It allowed me to get a better grasp of what was going on. Seems like my first observations were right; there were talks of a formula, an injection. They're planning on grabbing a wolf and an alligator snapping turtle for some sort of tests. They mentionned mutations along the way, something about what would be the results for an injection in animal subjects, rather than humans?"

"Leo was right then, it's related to the purple ooze..."

"What's that?"

"That's quite the long subject, but to summarize; it's a substance that has mutation properties. For humans, it turns them into part animal, part humanoid beings. The first incidence of that was Bebop and Rocksteady, two criminals that respectively got turned into a warthog and a rhinoceros."

"Damn, okay," commented Vee, surprised. "So what would be the results on animal subjects? Any thoughts?"

Donnie shrugged.

"Either they become fully human, or they go through different mutations – that is if the original formula is not altered. … Were there any talks about that?"

"Not really," answered the woman. "The discussion was pretty much centered around those animals. Were you able to record more of those conversations?"

"Actually, yes," said the turtle, grabbing the mouse and opening a folder on his computer. "I was able to get three more recently. But there's no need to go over them tonight... My brothers and I first wanted to know if things would go well tonight, and frankly I think it has been a success!"

"If you guys want me to come back to continue the work, I wouldn't mind."

"That'd be great!" smiled the terrapin, looking at the woman.

Yeah, she has green eyes. Vee was smiling softly as well, her chin resting on raised closed knuckles.

"… I still can't believe it somehow," she started, pensive. "This whole evening is just so weird right now, yet I know it's real. … I'm just so amazed."

"Amazed by my good looks?" suddenly came in Mikey as he got closer to Vee's position, taking support at the top back of her chair.

Vee chuckled while Donnie let out a quiet sigh.

"Amazed by all your looks," answered Vee. "I feel like I could ask so many questions right now, but I'll keep that for another time."

"We could definitely arrange a night of 20 questions," added the orange one with a playful look and a wink.

"Sure, why not!" laughed the woman.

((TO BE CONTINUED))

[yanderelovlies]

✨Galaxy Anon ✨ here!

Glad to be back!

Don’t you give me those eyes!

Oh definitely I understand that. I actually get anxious if someone meant something in a blunt tone or in a judging tone sometimes in text since I get scared if I anger them pfft. Makes sense no worries, you don’t want to public to know. No problem.

Glad to hear, update me on it then! Trust me when you really get into it will hold your heart in the feels.

Oh what kinda merch? Ooh yes I don’t really enjoy a lot of the games since I don’t think I’m a game person except visual novel games like sunny day Jack but I do love hearing the lore and watching some gameplays ( though while markplier is cool I like Watching Jacksepticle gameplays more since I feel I vibe with it more and he has this energy that makes me listen. I am really picky about YouTubers no joke they can have a great arguments but if they way they present it maybe is by AI voice or don’t have a great tone to the video I usually can only hear a minute and do something else. I have a low attention span.) Makes sense since a lot of the games mechanics don’t interest me and not to mention sometimes the story doesn’t make sense at times on how it ties all together. I only am in the fnaf lore of the Afton, security breach lore ( that fans make better than the actual game mind you) and fanfics especially time travel ones with found family. It’s my weakness dear lord especially with security breach Gregory in the mix. I mean I also have seen some art of it and my god I’m just like “ more….MORE!” If you ever want to see some of that fun and wholesome stuff or time travel shit just tell me and I link you to some blogs and I promise they don’t disappoint. I mean I can now see why you don’t want to get that there now.

Oh no no I get it. That sounds like a cruel and horrible fate not to mention then you become a mindless husk of your former self and can even hurt your non affected loved ones and will never know it and the only way to stop you is someone or even yourself ( before you fully turned for the latter) is to die by being killed. Like hell no anyone who wants it to happen please go to another dimension where that is happening I like living.

Hooray ( and I never thought of it that way!) and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. There some more as well especially one song that has yandere vibes so if you ever want to hear it tell me.

Ooh I have to check out that music then to understand the fics!

Pfft like yes I’m fine I just like sad music since it inspires I’m not depressed! Oh definitely I’m like hearing one and I have a whole soap opera happening in my head and thinking “ Man even I want to know how this ends! Ooh ideas for my oc’s!” Ooh that sounds interesting.

Yes I believe that is the case. It’s still frustrating though since you have to throw away your dignity just to appease someone and it’s shameful when your actually in the right. Yeah unfortunately they would lose money and they rather fire the worker for actually doing there job than kick out the customer because god forbid the customer is wrong, I hate the saying the customer is always right. Like no there not. And when the manager doesn’t even tell them even? It makes me look bad, like I’m the villain. Like I’m doing my job manager tell them I’m right instead of acting like a coward and just doing whatever the person wants.

Maybe one day I will get a new job though I know I will always have problems in every job so gotta stay positive and hope for the best. I mean at least most people in my job are nice.

I know, I was thinking “ What the hell man?! So you have no problem with gays but you draw the line with trans people? What?!” I least he isn’t in your life anymore I’m glad you had the courage to cut him off and it just disappointed me how the person he was talking to also agreed. Like please review yourself.

Also I saw the new work and yes it’s happening! Like Joseph my man really you do that even though I did nothing to you? Dude why didn’t you just tell reader “ Hey these people want me to fake date you as a prank but are offering a lot of money I need. Can you go along and we can split it?” Like as reader I still would feel hurt but at least he didn’t lie to me and also he sharing money? I can get behind that. Loopholes bitch. But to the Anon who said who wanted to slap Joseph yes Anon you know what’s up! I really want more angst now lol.

Always excited to see you Galaxy!!! 💕

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

If it makes me nervous, too, cause I don't like upsetting people. Also, thank you for understanding ��💕

I will!

I have figures of each, a hawks funko normal sized and one on my Keychain, two dabi shirts and one Hawks, dabi chopsticks, backpack with charms, a dabi plush, and a hand made hawks doll my sisters friend for me. That's only part collection, tho 👀. I collect whatever I can from my favorite fandoms or what I'm hyperfixating on, which is lowkey a problem since my home is small now....you know what that reminds me of? Me with the dark souls series. I have NEVER played one of them because i can't seem to get then hang of them, but I love the aesthetic. So, i binged any lore video I could find on YouTube, and I still do time from time. (I can play bloodborne and elden ring fine, tho. I'm not the best, but I have fun) If you wanna hear good angst, listen to that. As for the YouTube part get that I'm very picky about mine too. Though I do think it funny that how I see Jack and Mark is flipped from your view. Also, fun fact the Soulsbornering fadom is the only one I don't read fanfics on. As for those fanfic I might hit you up later when I'm up to date on the lore!

Preach! I don't want that shit!

I'm always down for new songs, so send me as many as you would like!

Let me know what you think! 💕

OMG, ME TOO! I DO THAT SHIT WHEN IM ZONING OUT AND PLAYING GAMES. It's my favorite pass time, ngl.

I hate that shit, I'm lucky my job only pretended to play the role if they knew you were in the right. They told the customer they would handle us, then pull us aside and go "look I know that was shit, but we had to do something, so sit down and wait."

That's very admirable of you, Galaxy, and I understand what you mean.

I think that's fucking disgusting that they agree at that stupid shit, and honestly I am too growing up I didn't know any better and thought the stupid bullshit he was normal. Now that im older, I'm disgusted by him. There were far more bigger reasons why i cut him off, but the more i talk with my mom and look back, im glad i did. I've thought about changing my last name to my mother's maiden name, but I decided against it.

Lol, I won't lie. I can't tell if people like the fic or not. I don't even know where this came from. Honestly, I felt stumped on a request, so I was gonna take a break, but instead opened a file and just went at it. If you want more angst, I can deliver 👀

[thornappleworld]

Forbidden Spirits

This post was a bit of a struggle for two reasons.

A werewolf gave me Covid... again.

I think this might be a novel one day. I went in thinking “short story” but it kept falling into a longer format that I'm not ready to write just now.

I've been calling the rebel group “Browncloaks” so far, as that's what everyone was wearing in the dream I had that sparked all this off.

In the dream we were rag-tag but had been at it for a while. Time has stolen details, but I remember blowing up military-style trucks with a small cell of other rebels. Very Guerrilla warfare-ish. Even smallest victories were met with celebration. I'd like to fill out the dream & write it up as a story in this setting eventually, but I must build the setting first. So I need to make Browncloaks happen.

Other influences:

I've been listening to the street poets podcast a lot lately.

I've been binging and taking notes on youtube videos about real-world historical rebellions.

Also, I'm using this as a loose prompt for faction building based on MTG colors.

Pro: Loyalty, a group made of outcasts. Found family. Rebels, benevolent anarchy.

Con: Power & control at any cost. Cult-y & playing with forces that others know better than to.

I see Galloway sending prisoners to nexus sites in places where they don't speak the language. These prisoners are for experimenting with magical stuff as they're trying to figure out the rules I previously posted. I see escapees with aid of a third group. The third group only offers them safe harbor.

I think this is the story of the Brown Cloak leader forming the group & inspiring all the rest. I used a random number generator to determine gender (45% female, 45% male,10% other). It's a girl.

I want her story to be relatable to “guests” of for-profit private prisons, but this is outside of my experience. Forgive me if I mess this up, I'll listen to any notes you may have.

I'm casting Rutina Wesley.

Book 1

Amaya Turner was arrested in her 20's. For story reasons, she legit did the crime. For reality reasons, she got a much harsher sentence than what was just. She was born in an American inner city. She didn't have a lot of options growing up & at a young age, joined a gang. The 10th Street Diamonds (or 10D) provided community and protection.

She liked to learn & she kept up with local politics; both the governmental and the street kind. If you wanted to find someone or something, she was who you needed to talk to. If she didn't know/have it, she could usually get it in a few days. She had a real talent for it & it's how she made a living. Guns, drugs, or whatever else, she's your woman if you've got the green or something to offer in trade.

She did that for years. She had a strategic mind and an absolute talent for staying out of sight. She was in the habit (low-key obsession really) of checking for cameras whenever she entered a space & avoiding them as much as possible.

Her luck, however, did run out. She was caught receiving stolen goods by way of a hidden camera. It was an open and shut case. The story should end there. Google tells me she'd be facing some time in a state prison (up to 10 years) or house of correction/county jail sentencing (up to 2.5 years) Up to $10,000 fine.

...Except that Amaya had the fateful misfortune to sit before a judge that was in ROC's pocket.

She knew something was very wrong when they loaded her and some other inmates on a bus, then a plane to travel to Europe for a “work detail”. She and inmates from other ROC prisons were clearing debris in Romania. It seemed that there was some sort of explosion that leveled a building. Before she even arrived on the scene, whoever was in charge had built a new structure where the old building used to be. Hard work, but not impossible. Finding bodies in the rubble made it harder. She'd heard that she was picking up the remains of a shoe factory, but the new building was a windowless concrete tower.

She found ways to smuggle small-time contraband into the prison & gets an underground economy going. We meet Camila Saldana Romo. She worked for a chop shop stealing cars. A member of her crew turned her in when they got busted. She comes from the same city and they'd sen each other in passing, but didn't know each other personally before. Camila convinces Amaya that they should “team up” for survival in this strange situation.

Every day, one by one, they'd take a few prisoners into the tower. They were brought to a small room like an interrogation room with a 2-way mirror on one side. Strange symbols were carved into the walls. In some spots one could see that the symbols were plastered over and new ones were in their place. They'd open a vent in the ceiling that emitted a purple-ish light. It had a feel to it like static electricity but...not.

Prisoners were told to do strange things, like see objects or events in other rooms, other buildings or even other times. Sometimes they were told to increase the heart rate of another inmate using their minds. Sometimes it was even stranger.

Amaya would pretend to do as she was told and make faces like she was focusing on whatever task she was given. (She convinces Camila to do the same). Most other prisoners legit tried to do what they were told, usually with no results. Some had nosebleeds or splitting headaches after. One went blind when they were told to read a message sealed in an envelope. Sometimes there was screaming an gunshots heard from the tower. On those days, inmates were taken out in body bags, buckets, or not at all.

To offset the reducing number of inmates, ROC brought in some fresh blood. We're introduced to Georgia Robinson. High energy, lots of personality, center-of-attention type. When she walked into a room, everyone knew it. As a kid, her parents saw that she needed something to do with all that excess energy, so they enrolled her in martial arts. She was good too, damn good. Won some awards but eventually got injured in one of the street fights she participated in for extra cash. Surgery meant painkillers. Addiction soon followed. She came to ROC because she had been caught dealing in opioids. As the withdrawal got worse, Amaya and Camila stepped up. With dwindling doses, they helped Georgia ween off. Georgia, in turn, provided protection. She took on the role of the visible queen of contraband while Amaya was happy to remain the silent partner. Camila usually served as lookout or a distraction when one was needed.

One day Amaya's cellmate, an arsonist named Leanne, told Amaya that she actually got the candle to light. When she did, they asked her a lot of questions about exactly what she was thinking and how she felt, had a doctor give her a very very thorough physical and took some blood. She got to eat first & best at dinner that night.

“Good days” happened a few more times in the three months it took to clear the debris field and turn the field into a four acre fenced-in parking lot with the tower in the center.

It dawned on the trio that ROC will never let them go. This is confirmed when some inmates' sentences are up and they aren't being released. So, the trio enlisted the aid of a few other inmates and stole a wand from a locked case in the warden's office. Leanne was convinced she could start fires with her mind. Liz, Georga's cellmate, often worked custodial duties and knew the layout of the building better than anyone, and Hannah, Camila's cellmate, because Camila refused to leave a friend behind.

The escape plan was complex, but went off really well...until it didn't. A guard on a cigarette break spotted them hopping the outer fence and sounded the alarm. Georgia stood her ground and leveled her wand at the rushing guards. Leanne and Liz were already on the other side, with Amaya still halfway to the top and climbing. The two on the outside ran for it when the floodlights came on.

The guard staring down the wand only smiles smugly and another guard shot Liz through the fence. They also shot at Leanne, but missed. She escaped. While Georgia hesitated, surprised that the wand didn't get more of a response, the guard she was targeting simply shot Amaya off the fence. With that, the escape attempt ended.

Amaya spent a few days in the infirmary. They had to dig the bullet out of her shoulder and she lost a lot of blood. ROC had already lost two subjects, they weren't willing to lose a third. It was here she met a mysterious stranger who offered her a deal (this scene takes place where hallways intersect). The stranger informs her that the wand was just a very pretty stick, set up as bait for this exact reason. He further informed her that her family was told she died in a prison riot. He offered her the knowledge that ROC was trying to gain, and with it, an opportunity to escape. She signed the contract on the spot and her lifespan was shortened.

The contract took hold immediately. She knew she has only another ten years to live, but she also now had the benefit of the experience in everything she would have learned in decades working the magical underground. As he left, the stranger told her that when her opportunity comes, go east. The van will be waiting. A gift from a friend.

A month later ROC took a handful of inmates into the tower at once, including Camila. There was screaming... some of it was even human. Semi-automatic gunshots and Topaz guards running from the tower as massive cracks appeared climbing its height.

They tried to herd the workers into prison transport buses, but it all happened so fast. A creature burst through one of the walls, tearing guards apart and ignoring its own gun shot wounds. A thirty foot tall being. Not a giant, but it looked like someone took the test group and a few guards, stripped them down, than roughly stretched and crushed them into a single humanoid shape, like an uncaring child playing with clay. With a dozen mouths it screamed pain and fury, dishing out what punishment it could on its former captors, adding them to its increasingly malformed mass. When it had killed all the brave and foolish it could catch with its hobbling gate, it went after the nearby prison. The thing smashed itself even bloodier in the process, but it knocked the several outer walls down, clearly intentionally ending its own suffering in the collapse. As she escapes, Amaya sees to her horror that its “head” is made of Camila. As she watches her friends escape, she smiles...then dies.

The tower collapsed due to the damage done by the rampaging beast. As it fell, it broke around a light that stayed fixed in position in the air, it must have been on the top floor. It was clearly the source of the purple light. It was like a tear in reality.

Amaya and a handful of others ran in the confusion. There was forest to the east after a quarter mile of open terrain. They were shot at, a few of the escapees didn't make it. Topaz guards chased them in jeeps, but it was a lot of scattering inmates.

Through the treeline another mile or so, Amaya and the others kept running until she came across a dirt service road. There was a van parked there, with forestry service logos on the sides. Our mysterious stranger is waiting in the driver's seat.

We get briefly introduced to (the next faction) the House of the Seven Winds... a black market that deals in deals... the magical kind. Amaya & Georgia opted to stay with them. Amaya worked out a deal help them move contraband in exchange for earning her years back a few at a time.

They both knew that with ROC & Topaz after them that their families were safer without her & they wanted to know who arranged for their freedom.

Book 2

Less on this one. I wrote the outline after realizing that this is a multi-story series.

It's a few years later, and Georgia is thriving in the House of the Seven Winds with Amaya remaining her silent partner and brains of the operation. They have a crew, including some former ROC inmates. They are both making deals on the crossroads for the H7W, & Amaya has used her magically advanced skill set and earned a substantial number of years back.

They still haven't learned who arranged their escape when there's an action scene wherein Topaz guards almost get them. Georgia is shot. Its treatable but rough because she refuses painkillers. A large branch of House of the Seven Winds is compromised in the shooting & has to shut down. As a result, many of their resources are cut off.

Georgia wants to use magic to evade Topaz, this call is divisive. Amaya knows this can turn real bad real fast. in the end, she concedes. Georgia brings her crew to a point off the coast of France where a nexus point exists just below the ocean surface

Besides the boat's captain who is merely present, five people are involved in the ritual. Three former ROC inmates, Georgia, and Amaya. Georgia wants invulnerability. Amaya wants to be able to turn invisible, but something comes through the nexus. It smell acrid, burning everyone's eyes & nose. There is a sound like thousands of steel pipes banging together rising through the water around the boat as it boils than freezes solid in minuets.Something bores up from the bottom of the boat, which doesn't sink due to being trapped in the ice. A a mass of slithering lights bright enough to hurt to look at roughly the size of a big dog stalks the everyone aboard one by one in a clearly intentional order with no recognizable pattern. When it gets close enough, its target's bodily fluids start to boil as everything else freezes. There is shattering after a few agonizing moments.

When it's after Amaya, Georgia attacks it, trying to buy her time to escape. For her troubles, Georgia is pulled screaming into the nexus itself. The screams stop short after a far-too-long time. The boat erupts into flame and Amaya escapes on a chunk of ice. She is the lone survivor and eventually washes up on shore.

She regains consciousness in a hospital as a Jane dough (The French version is Madame Dupont... I think). Her invisibility isn't the ideal kind. Instead of “invisible” she can only be seen by one's own eyes. Cameras & reflections show nothing at all. She casts no shadow. All attempts just show cloths floating in the air, or an entirely blurred out image. Even new memories are fuzzy like the person remembering just wasn't paying attention. It doesn't turn off. It's a gift and a curse. Also, she has the logical burns, hypothermia, & a concussion.

Her sort-of invisibility is noticed fairly quickly in the hospital. Calls are made and the Galloway group takes notice. They come for her, but using her new-found ability, she escapes... at one point wrapping in a stolen brown blanket and pretending to be homeless, blending perfectly into the background.

A year later

She's leading a Guerrilla-style offensive against Galloway, freeing prisoners & generally being a nuisance. They use brown cloaks as a sort-of uniform. (think Jedi, this bit came from the dream)

She knows well that magic is hard to use and that it's dangerous, so she keeps the secret, but also serves as a guide and uses it as a weapon.

She is the forbidden spirit.

Book 3 will likely be a re-telling of the original dream, but updated to reflect the lore I'm building in this blog. A love story with two members of different cells withing the Forbidden Spirits. Also, I'd like to explore more of Amaya's story.

Also, I think the Yellowheads funded her escape. Who are they? Stay tuned.

I'm legit not sure when a woman's prison became my sort-of Hogwarts, but I may just expand on that idea.

As always, I'd love peer review. Shitty works are written in a vacuum & I want to be better.

[drc00l4tt4]

Melvinborg x Reader ;;

❝ Experimental Fluff ❞ ( Halloween Special )

(( Yeah so the writing is inspired by how @thereaderinsertlady writes her stories of borg, and you should definitely go send them some love and check out their writings!! Super neat content <3

slight warning? the reader takes off their clothes in a non-suggestive way, but if that makes you uncomfortable then don't worry too much because it's towards the end, so you can enjoy most of it.

but the plot is;; You go into Melvinborg's lab and find a bottle of liquid on his desk, which you assume is tea (since it's right by his work, and he usually brings tea with him). Within seconds you start to feel side effects and realize that it is, in fact, not tea. ))

To say you were in shock would be an extreme understatement. Something like this is what happens in dreams you barely remember when you wake up, not reality- but here you were, in reality, having just drank lord knows what and are now experiencing side effects. Maybe that was on you for sneaking into your husband's lab after he left for just a minute to retrieve something- karma did seem to enjoy torturing you.

Within seconds of realizing you indeed did not drink tea like you had thought, you could hear footsteps approaching the lab. You practically scurried across the floor, almost tripping numerous times before managing to make it to the door and slam it shut.

"Wh—" You could hear a confused voice behind the door, followed by a very long sigh. "(Y/N), why are you in there? Better question actually- why did you slam the door as if you were hiding something?" Well of course he immediately realized you did something wrong, why would that surprise you? "I'm not hiding a single thing, I don't know why you would accuse me of such things!" You said dramatically, but judging from his voice you could tell he wasn't having it. "Open the door before I force it open."

"I- Well-" You struggled, trying to think of something- anything- to say so that he wouldn't pry you to open the door. "What if I'm naked in here? You don't know," You stated, and you could hear him start stuttering, "You better not be! There's chemicals in there that could harm you from direct contact, that's why I told you to stay out unless I'm in there!" That made you shiver, thinking you might've drank poison. ".. Well, uh.. for unrelated reasons, what was on your desk?" You asked.

".. Don't tell me you messed with my experiments." Melvin groaned, which only made you feel worse- and not just because the effects were hitting you. "I- Maybe.. Okay I did- but don't be mad at me-" You said quickly, getting more and more panicked. "Oh my- ghhh, okay," Melvin sighed, gently pushing on the door, "Just- open the door, I'll figure out an antidote, it's fine. It's fine." He added.

With a sigh, you moved away from the door and opened it, letting Melvinborg into the room with you. He took one look at you and his face immediately dropped, "Wh.. What did you-?" He frantically ran to his desk, his eyes landing on the bottle you had taken a sip of without a second thought. He leaned against the desk, putting his head in his hand, "You could have been poisoned from this, I hope you know that." He groaned, which made you feel even worse, despite you already hitting rock bottom of 'worse-ness'.

"Yes but-"

"I'm genuinely upset with you." Melvinborg interrupted, looking over at you with the most genuinely angery expression you've seen from him, "You know I don't like it when you go through my stuff. You're well aware of why." He added. "Yes I.. I know, I'm sorry.." You said, your voice very soft and quiet; despite you feeling like you were about to cry, your voice actually didn't shake as much as you expected.

Melvinborg let out a deep breath before moving away from the desk and starting to examine you. "You're lucky that I love you." He stated, sounding serious in his statement, but it calmed you down slightly. "So.. you're not mad?" You asked. "Oh, no, I'm absolutely furious." He stated, which made you want to crawl away in shame. "However, I know you went a very long time without coming in here on your own, and you didn't mean any harm in going through my things, so this is just.. a warning, I suppose." He added.

"That doesn't mean I'll forgive you easily next time though- if there is a next time, but I trust that there won't be." Melvin stated, finishing his examination on your lower half. You tried to speak, "There won't-" "Put your arms up." He interrupted. You did as requested and lifted your arms, letting him inspect you further. "Have any more orders to give me, sir?" You teased, which seemed to get a reaction out of him, but you couldn't see because he was currently behind you, "Yes, actually: be quiet and let me examine you." He joked- you could tell when he was being serious and when he wasn't, his voice was more light in a way when he wasn't being serious.

You suddenly felt tugging on what felt to be your hair, which you didn't expect. "Are you looking for lice or something?" You asked, joking. ".. Do you not know what you look like right now?" Melvin asked, which worried you. "No? You don't have any mirrors in here." You stated. "I do actually, they're just somewhere that they won't be broken." He stated, moving to his desk and pulling out a small mirror from one of the drawers. "Here." He handed it to you, so you looked at yourself through the mirror; and you nearly screamed.

Melvin wasn't exactly pulling on your hair, he was pulling on a new set of ears that you had. Upon more inspection, you even noticed you had a tail. "I- Wh- What did I drink-?" You asked, looking almost horrified; honestly you didn't look half bad, you were just surprised. "You drank what was supposed to be a transformation chemical. It was meant for animals to turn into humans but.. you can see that it also has the vice versa effects on humans. It is interesting though," Melvin explained, starting to inspect you again.

"Would it be easier to inspect me if I took off my clothes?" You asked, being genuine in your question. "Yes actually, it-" Melvinborg paused. taking a second before looking at you properly, ".. Don't. Don't take your clothes off, forget that I agreed to that." He stated. "Why?" You questioned, smirking slightly as you folded your arms. "It would be easier to inspect me that way, you know I'm right." You added.

"If you do that I'm at least giving you a robe." Melvin stated, moving away from you to go into the hallway attached to his lab. There was a closet there that also connected to a bathroom, so the robes were located there (and they were also there for the lab anyway, since he had seen you remove your shirt before, but never your entire outfit). You did end up removing your clothes while he was turned away, which caused him to shriek for half a second before quickly covering his mouth and looking away, "I— You need to warn me, you absolute menace!" He stated, looking down as he walked towards you, his robotic arm outstretched an extra length so he wouldn't have to get too close in order to hand you the robe.

You took the robe and put it on, the tail you now had was brushing against your leg, since the robe had pushed it against you. "Alright, the robe is on." You said. "Good, I do not want to have you fully unclothed in here." Melvinborg huffed, finally looking up at you and starting to examine your exposed skin. "So you'd want me unclothed somewhere else then?" You teased, watching him become flustered. "I- I will stop examining you and leave you stranded if you don't stop, you.. you pageless book." He huffed, crossing his arms. "Well you're taking sooo long, it's almost like you're doing it on purpose." You teased him further.

".. I'm leaving." Melvin glared at you and started walking away, but you quickly wrapped your arms around him, keeping him in place. "Nooo! Stay, I'm sorryyy," You pouted. "No, you teased me enough, I'm leaving." He huffed, trying to get out of your arms but failing horribly. ".. Did the chemicals give you super strength as well? Hold on," He gently tried to remove your arms, "I'm not leaving, but I need you to let go." He added.

You let go of Melvin and watched as he grabbed a few items from his desk; seeing him grab scissors and a small test tube made you cringe. He walked back over to you, cutting off a bit of the fur from the ears and setting it into the tube. He then wordlessly went back to his desk and set the tube into a sampling machine. "Alright, that's all I needed for the internal examination." He said. You smirked, ".. Internal examination you say—" "If you say what I think you're going to say, I swear."

Soon enough the results were back and Melvin had made an outline for an antidote to your predicament- however, it was nearly midnight, so you'd have to stay animal-ified until morning. Though, as the day went on, neither you nor Melvin seemed to exactly mind the fact you had been fluffed- if anything you both were enjoying it while it lasted. Well, at least Melvin was, he continuously asked for cuddles and hugs, moreso than he usually did, and he nearly instantly relaxed into your temporarily fluffy arms (of which became fluffy after a few minutes of continuous side effects).

"What if I just stayed fluffy forever?" You asked suddenly. Melvinborg was currently hugging you from behind and nuzzling into your neck, of which had also been fluffified (the only non-fluffed parts of you were your face and forearms by now). "Well I wouldn't mind," Melvin stated, currently more focused on giving you affection than anything else, "Besides, it's getting cold outside, it's helpful to have fur." He added, which earned a chuckle from you. "Helpful to me or you, cuddlebug?" You asked, hearing him let out an amused huff. "Both, actually." He responded.

After a minute more of simple affection, the two of you had laid down in bed, considering it was now midnight and you both had to keep a somewhat decent sleep schedule (though Melvinborg rarely ever stuck to that). This time, you actually cuddled him, which was something that happened rarely since he seemed to enjoy being the one to keep you close to him- you knew it was just because you were fluffed and he wanted to savor it, but he wouldn't admit that and you knew so.

"Even though I don't like the fact you decided to snoop around my lab, I can't say I'm mad at you anymore." Melvin stated, which gained your attention. "Really? Is it because you-" "It's not because I enjoy your affection when you're soft, no." He interrupted you, which only verified your suspicions. "Mhm, sureee," You teased. "Alright, you're sleep talking, go to bed." He stated quickly, resting his head against your chest and snuggling up to you. "I am not-" "You're so very sleepy, you should absolutely fall asleep, right now. Go to sleep." He stated, talking even quicker that time.

"Alright alright, fiiine," You chuckled, letting him stay as close as he wanted to you- which was actually very close, he was practically clung to you. "I love you." You spoke softly, gently resting your head against his. "I love you too, you.. dumby." He mumbled, seemingly tired himself which didn't surprise you. "I may be a dumby, but I'm yourrr dumby." You stated, hearing him chuckle softly. "Go to bed before I make you." He ordered. "Okayyy," You sighed, finally relaxing fully as you and him both fell asleep together. Honestly, you'd have to get him to make that concoction again.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

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

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

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

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

However, Harry can see right through you.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys still talk?”

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

“You miss being with the band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

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

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

“It’s… a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

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

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

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

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

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he ever stop?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“What was the name of the song?”

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

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

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

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

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

“No,” you shake your head.

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

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

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right,” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did he do this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a fan?”

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

“You need to perform it for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that I know of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you still friends with them?”

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

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

“You like me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, I’m in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: Is that even a question?!

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

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

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

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

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

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

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

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

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

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

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

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

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

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

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

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

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

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

“Harry! Please!”

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

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

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

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

“Mm, good idea.”

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

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

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

“I’ve just been thinking.”

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

“About what you said about your parents.”

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

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

“There’s a reason for that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what if they don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

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

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

And then there’s the absolute worst.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, you end the call.

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

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

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

“Halo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

Hi Taylor!

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

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

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

“He… pulled out for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

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

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

“I do,” you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

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

[fandomfan2000]

Song analysis #3 God of Loss

here's a link to the Song

this is fanart of @brightgoat​‘s ask blog @askcupsandcasinos​, a few of the photos I drew were HEAVILY inspired by some of the stuff Bright's drawn so please check out the original blog. 

I think this Lyric\song title relates to Mugman because of his whole ‘spade’ aesthetic, as we know, according to Brightgoat and king Dice, spades are often associated with death and loss. The whole ‘God” part of this title is more or less ironic, after Mugmans little break down when he and cups visited Quadratus, we now know that he’s still suffering from PTSD and is looking to achieve something more then a mere mortal should, which as Quadratus stated will only end in his demise. Making the title of “god of loss” a perfect fit for the mug.

more under cut 

“My father was a carpenter My mother, she died young”

These lyrics essentially just talk about Elder Kettle. He was Mugman and Cupheads Parental figure. He may not have been a “carpenter” but I see that line as more saying that he was humble and a hard worker, instilling these qualities into Mugman & Cuphead (well more or less). “My Mother she died young” is rather self explanatory, even though Elder Kettle didn't die young, he did pass away when the boys were relatively young, which was equally crushing to Cups and Mugs as a guardian dyeing young, if not more because they had no one left. 

“I’m the eldest of my brothers You’re the trouble in my blood Trouble in my blood”

this line also feels self explanatory but I’ll explain it any way. 

Its basically just stating facts, Mugman is “technically older” then cuphead “by like, a minute or something”. Aaaand Cuphead is usually seen as the trouble maker f the 2 whos always getting them roped into trouble. Which I think Mugman, just judging by the way he treats Cuphead does believe that cuphead is trouble.

This also refers to how Mugs’ ancestors and his relation to him has and will cause nothing but trouble. 

“I swore that I’d stay humble Like my father was before He built the home I live in Of sand and mud and smoke Sand and mud and smoke “

This line correlate’s to Elder Kettle having been a very simple and kind man and how the boys see him in a good light. It also serve as an ironic statement as we all know Mugmans main sin is pride.

I see this line as more about Elder Kettle and Mugs’ ancestors and their effect on them, how they helped shape and build Mugs into the person he is. It also seems like a reference to the Bible and how Adam, the first human, was created. In the Bible God made him by taking, I think it was dust I'm not sure though, from the ground and created man, which I think is close enough to “Sand & Mud & smoke” to have a correlation as all those things come from the earth. I figured a reference to the Bible was fitting considering the whole ‘heaven and Hell’ theme.

“Yes, we will leave here without a trace Take a new name and an old shape”

This line correlates to Mugmans fear of death...or more a fear of being forgotten and not accomplishing anything notable his life before passing. It also correlates to Elder Kettles death and how he just disappeared, everything and everyone related to him went missing after his death.

the picture I drew is a redraw of Elder Kettles grave from this post.

This line refers to the parallels between Cuphead & Mugman vs The legendary chalice and her mystery friend whos been hinted at a few times. How their personalities kind of line up, Cuphead & Chalice being the more outgoing risk takers and Mugman & mystery cup being the prideful scientist’s. Meaning Cups & Mugs are the “new names” but really thanks to their ancestors giving them their signature soul powers, are living in “old shapes’ so to speak. Did any of that make any sense??? anyway moving on

“I’ll be no outlaw, no renegade Just your faithful god of loss”

(Eheheh this is my favorite verse it fits so well >:D)

So this just refers to 3 of the main 4′s roles (Devil, King Dice, Mugman) and kinda, maybe, sorta Mug mans internal thoughts. King Dice is a well known and respected outlaw\criminal as we know, having been having been “outlawed across half the globe” if I'm remembering correctly. The Devils whole thing is that he’s a renegade, fighting against his fathers oppressive rule to create change... even if what he’s doing is ultimately pointless. Lastly Mugman. The line relating to him I've already touched on but again its and of more ironic if anything. Mug man is simply the “god of loss”. 

“So meet me by the river On a boat-shaped piece of earth We press our bones together And the spider does its work With flakes of garlic And petals from a rose If it’s small enough to carry You and I can call it home You and I can call it home”

okokok theres a lot to cover here ahhhh...  

“So meet me by the river” could hint at the river of souls running through purgatory, not particularly relevant but considering that's were the Chalice is, its an important setting in the story so that makes this line relevant. 

“We press our bones together” could reference just the characters and how their dynamics help progress the story, haha that comparison is kind of a stretch though. “And the spider does its work” I think refers to the devil (you know how his head can shape shift into a spider and all-) and his family and how their busy in the background, doing things mugs doesn't really understand or know of yet, which have the possibility of negatively impacting the brothers.

“If it’s small enough to carry You and I can call it home”

this refers to how the mystical inkwell and indirectly the memories the brother carry of Elder Kettle, allow them to find ‘home’ anywhere as long as their with each other and have their basic necessities met. The inkwell is small & their memories require no space to take with them, along with the fact that if they could utilize the inkwell they could create a home, and whole worlds for themselves.

annnywayy that concludes song analysis #3 hope you enjoyed’

stay tuned for more~