#please please please watch the Hanna movie it's so goddamn good

[chorus-the-mutate]

I've finally got some screenshots from one of my favorite scenes (and locations) in the Hanna movie and now I'm spreading them like a virus because there are literally no good pictures of this scene. <3

[bopbopstyles]

3. More Than a Song

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 9.7k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: prepare for ANGST! and dunkirk premiere harry aka one of his best looks ever :) also thank u to @havethetimeofyourstyles for making my line breaks bc i’m inept at making things xoxo

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

“Baby,” Harry said, turning to her from where he stood in his closet. “Can you help me with my collar? I can’t get it.”

Y/N set down her phone—she was ready first, which wasn’t surprising considering it took Harry ages to get ready, partially because he kept getting distracted with her. He’d touch her, run his hands all over her, ask if he could get her out of her lingerie, and she’d have to remind him that she’d barely even had it on and they had an important event. “Sure.”

Harry looked dashing—he always did. After much debate, they had decided on a simple white silk short-sleeved button down and a pair of flared black pants, cool enough for May in LA, but still perfectly Harry. Y/N had painted his nails last night a pastel purple while they had watched a documentary about sheep—which Harry had selected—and the color popped against the neutrals of the rest of the outfit. Shoes were still up in the air, but Y/N was trying to get him to wear the yellow loafers he’d gotten recently, the ones she was so obsessed with she was considering stealing for herself.

Somehow Harry always managed to mess up his collars before big nights, the nerves probably getting to him. Y/N smoothed the material on his shoulders to relax him before popping up his collar and folding it back down crisply. “There you go.” In the mirror in front of Harry, her eyes trailed down his body, from his sweet curls she had labored over styling in the bathroom, to the recently tailored pants he wore. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, a smile dancing onto Harry’s face at the action. “Nervous, bubs?”

He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Bit. More for you to hear it than anyone else.”

The honesty of his statement brought butterflies to her tummy. Harry had been in and out of meetings for the past few months getting together the release of his debut album and putting the final touches on it, but at no point had he let her hear it. She suspected it was because he was scared she’d hate it, but when she asked her dad about it, he told her to think about it as his journal. His journal of a past that Y/N hadn’t been a part of. That had made Y/N understand a bit better, the prospect of being nervous of what she’d think of him more the worry than a worry of what she’d think of the music. So she nuzzled her nose into his shoulder, careful not to get lipstick on the fabric, and told him, “I’m going to love it. It’ll be perfect, just like you.”

Harry’s arms wrapped backwards so he could hold her to him and they stood there, holding one another, basking in each other’s presence before everyone else arrived. It had been a busy couple months for them to start a relationship—Y/N was swamped at work, her boss having left so she had to take on extra work, and Harry was releasing his album, Dunkirk was coming out in the summer, and his tour started in the fall. It was a lot to say the least, and Y/N tried not to think about it too often because she’d get all in her head and ignore Harry’s texts for hours until he called her and asked her if she wanted gummy worms or Hershey’s for movie night. Then, she’d remind herself that they were doing good—really good, even. Better than other relationships that she had been in for this long. Usually this was when she got bored, but with Harry she kept falling for him more and more every day they spent with each other.

He was like a drug, and she was addicted.

“We should head down,” Y/N said, brushing back from him. “Wear the yellow ones, yeah?”

He mumbled something under his breath about her being bossy and coming for Lambert’s job and she snorted, leaving him in the walk-in closet to straighten himself out. Her phone in her hand, she slipped on her heels, a summer sandal with a platform so her feet didn’t hurt, the perfect compliment to her flowing sundress she’d selected for the release party. When Harry had seen it he’d promptly asked if she could take it off so he could ravish her, so she decided it was a good choice. It emphasized her curves in a way that made her feel confident and she’d pinned her hair over one shoulder, the earrings Harry had gotten her for their three-month anniversary on display.

Re-emerging, Harry rolled his eyes over her body and she gave him a soft smile at the way his eyes screamed with desire. “See something you like?”

“Fuck yes,” he cursed. “Can’t wait to have you all to myself later.” Hands in hers, he pressed a searing kiss to her lips, the kind that made her toes curl, before pulling back. “C’mon, Azoff is yelling at me over text about being late to my own party.”

“It’s literally downstairs,” she pointed out. “He’s just mad he can’t embarrass you in front of your friends.”

Harry laughed, arm tucked around her waist as they descended the stairs of his house. He’d bought it at the end of February, a birthday gift to himself, and Y/N had thought to herself at the time that it wasn’t about her, it was about him. But it was kind of hard whenever he had her help him pick out all the furniture, making sure she approved of the colors he painted the walls and the patio furniture.

Downstairs, the party was in full force. Harry hadn’t invited too many people, mostly the same crowd as his birthday. Since it was at his house, he was hesitant to give the address out to too many people, but ultimately he wanted to be able to do whatever the fuck he wanted to celebrate, no paps around. Also, it was hot and he had a pool, so he had told everyone to bring a swimsuit just in case they wanted to take a dip. Y/N had persuaded him to keep it simple and they’d ordered pizza from his favorite place and she made some a ton of margaritas for everyone to help themselves to. Jeff was left in charge of the door when Harry was late finishing getting dressed, and she could tell that he had done a fine job. The tunes were going, people were drinking, and everyone seemed happy. He had even put the album countdown that Y/N had spent two hours making that morning on the TV.

“Stay close to me, please?” Harry asked her, bending his head to whisper in her ear when they reached the group.

Y/N nodded, and Harry began happily talking to Jeff. Y/N started up a conversation with another one of the Full Stop employees who had come who she’d met at a brunch a few weeks ago, plucking some details from her brain about her boyfriend to check-in about. Then, a familiar face flashed in the crowd. “Hanna!”

Harry had suggested the idea of inviting her best friends to the party and Y/N had leapt at the idea. The prospect of having her two favorite people be there with her to celebrate her boyfriend was her idea of a perfect night. Hanna’s red hair popped up, her smile giddy from seeing Y/N. Cutting through the crowd, she quickly made it to Y/N, who wrapped her best friend up in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she said. “Find it okay?”

Hanna nodded. “Security at the gate did not want to let me in though. Jamie is on his way—Cole called while he was walking out the door.” Jamie and Cole had been together for years and Y/N decided the first time she met Cole that there wasn’t anyone better for Jamie, and Jamie seemed to agree. “How are you?”

“Amazing,” Y/N replied and she truly was. She felt like she was on cloud nine right now, the energy bouncing off of Harry absorbing into every one of her pores. “Excited to finally hear it.”

“You should be.” Hanna leaned over and tapped Harry on the shoulder.

His attention shifted from some work-related conversation with Jeff quickly over to his girlfriend’s best friend. “Oh, hello Hanna,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“No place I’d rather be,” Hanna replied. “Now can I steal Y/N?”

Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N, but he gave her a warm smile. “‘Course.”

Y/N followed her best friend out onto the patio, giving hugs and saying hello to the friends of Harry’s she’d met during the past few months of them being together. Harry watched her with awe at how well she had fit into his life, she’d succeeded faster than any other girl he’d ever dated. The tidbits of information she remembered and the way she made an effort to be present in the conversations, her deep knowledge of music and the industry coming in handy. He loved having a girl at her side who knew what all of his team did without him having to explain it to her. It was small, but it made a difference to him.

“H,” Mitch said, pulling his gaze from his girlfriend back to the conversation he’d been having with Mitch, Adam, and Sarah. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking a sip of the margaritas Y/N had made for the party. She’d slaved over them all day while he was on calls and doing interviews and he appreciated it so much. He reminded himself to tell her later when he had her alone and could tell her properly.

Sarah smiled at him knowingly. “He’s just looking at Y/N, as usual.”

Mitch and Adam chuckled, but Harry frowned. “Am I not allowed to look at my girl?”

“You are,” Adam said, “just be careful, mate. You told us about the rule, remember?”

The Rule. The goddamn rule that controlled this relationship more than he felt like he did, sometimes. He didn’t know how much Y/N thought about it at this point in their relationship, but then again it was still technically pretty early in the grand scheme of things. But for him, it was a constant reminder than their time together was fleeting, that at any point she might want to leave him, his lifestyle too hard. And it’s not that he blamed her. He just hated that it was a possibility. “I know.”

“How’s it going?” Adam pressed. Harry had been distant these past few weeks, holing himself up in the house with Y/N every chance he got when they weren’t rehearsing and he wasn’t on a call. It was hectic and he knew that his friends worried about him.

Harry took another sip of his margarita, eyes finding Y/N out on the patio laughing with Hanna, hair blowing in the wind. “Been good. She seems really happy,” he continued at the sight of her smile. “Bit nervous about tonight, if I’m being honest though.” He’d told Y/N the same thing, but the pit in his stomach still lingered. She had said she was excited, but he didn’t know how she would react to him releasing an album full of songs about his exes and flings.

They all got it though. “About which song?”

“All of ‘em,” he said nervously, and it was true. Y/N came into his life after the album was done, the idea of adding a song about her impossible. Even though he could’ve written dozens—he already had, the voice memos on his phone to prove it. Sometimes he’d sneak away to the bathroom while she slept to sing something that popped into his head, and the few that he’d shown the band they liked. It was all material for the next album, they told him. Some of them had even become full-fledged songs after a few hours locked in his office, but he hadn’t shared them yet. They still felt too raw.

Sarah reached out a hand and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “She’ll get it, H. Her dad’s a musician, you know? If there was anyone who would understand, it would be her.”

And she was probably right. But there was a feeling in his gut that Harry couldn’t shake—that tonight wouldn’t end well for them. He’d felt it when he had woken up this morning and no matter how many time he kissed Y/N to make it go away, it lingered and it was making his brain go wild.

He hoped it was just the nerves.

The night passed quickly. There were speeches, a cake, Jeff pulled out a bottle of champagne, and Y/N had rejoined Harry at his side for the most part. And at this party, there was no question as to who she was—to everyone she was “Y/N, my girlfriend,” and Harry loved it. Particularly the look on her face that she would get every once in a while when her eyes caught his. He didn’t know what to call it, but he just knew that he felt the same way.

Before he knew it, it was 11:59 and everyone had gathered in the living room. The TV had the countdown on that Y/N had designed, the album cover with the numerical countdown over it, another bottle of champagne in Harry’s hand, ready to pop. Y/N stood a few people away from him, watching him with that look in her eyes that she’d been giving him all night that made him weak in the knees and made him curious what she would do to him when they were upstairs. He knew why Y/N was keeping her distance right now—she had mentioned it once before when they were curled up in bed after Harry asked her to be put down as a co-host for the party, that this success was his and his alone. That she was here at the end and she wanted it to be all his. She was here to support him and give him kisses after, but it was all his.

“10, 9, 8.” This was it. It was Harry’s debut album, his first solo record. It was weird for the rest of the guys to not be here when an album dropped. Usually, they were all standing together with bottles of champagne, ready to celebrate with one another.

“7, 6, 5, 4.” And Harry didn’t know which one was worse and which was better. Maybe they were both equally as wonderful, because he had other friends here to stand by his side. Jeff, Sarah, Mitch, Adam. James, floating around somewhere. His mum and sister tried to be here but Gemma got sick and Anna wanted to stay behind to take care of her.  

“3, 2,” He had Y/N. He had Y/N’s excited expression, her wide eyes and flushed cheeks, the look of pride on her face that he treasured.

“1!” But this was his, his success, his win. With the first notes of the album playing in the room, he popped the bottle of champagne and with the bubbles running down the side of the bottle, he took a long swig.

Cheers went up around him, his best friends celebrating his biggest success of his career thus far, one he’d fought long and hard for. One he was immensely proud of and he hoped he would always look back on fondly. And the sound of his album blaring in his house’s sound system—the sound of Meet Me in the Hallway, it brought him to tears.

“Aww, man,” Adam brought him into a hug, patting Harry softly on his back. “Y/N! Come here!”

Y/N was there in an instant, wrapping Harry up in her arms, his head falling onto her shoulder, sobs wracking his body as they stood there. He didn’t even care that his friends were all there witnessing him crying into his girlfriend’s shoulder, he was just so overwhelmed.

“You okay, bubs?” Y/N asked, petting the back of his head softly.

“It’s a lot,” he replied softly, trying to find the words. “Happy. But also just…”

Her hands ran up and down his back, rubbing circles. “I know, baby. You don’t need to explain, okay?”

Harry didn’t reply, just tried to find his breath and stop the tears that were welling in his eyes. And when he did, he lifted his head and his lips met Y/N’s, the sound of whoops and cat-calls breaking out around them. The middle finger that Harry raised to them all did nothing to stifle them either. “Thank you,” he said into her hair when they broke.

The feeling of her lips on his neck, a soft kiss, brought him to his knees. “Always.”

And Harry hoped it was true.

While the rest of the party swirled around her—dancing had broke out, James had started making themed drinks, his favorite being the Sign of the Times one—Y/N sat right in front of the speaker, listening to every word of the album. It was her first time hearing it and she knew Harry would probably play it for her later, but she wanted to hear it now. She wanted to hear his pride and joy, the thing that had him beaming and laughing with his friends, belting out the lyrics with Mitch and Adam in a conga line that was worming its way through the room.

And what she heard broke her heart in so many ways.

Y/N knew that music, and much of art, stemmed from pain and hurt. A good amount of it was also about love, but the songs that were some of the rawest, the ones that hit home for most people, were the ones about our darkest moments. Harry’s album was full of them. Heartbreak, heartache, regrets, addiction to people and things. It was chock full of every one of his deepest darkest secrets, especially the women who he had loved before he met her. There was a part of her that knew that he would tell her in his own time about the stories of some of these women—he had mentioned a few when she’d asked about them—and that she didn’t need to push, but there was this disgusting, self-sabotaging part of her that wanted to know every sordid detail, even though she knew it would hurt her.

This was one of the many reasons she had always told herself she would never date a musician, but more importantly that she would never fall for one. Because their relationship, their joys and pitfalls, heartache and brightest moments, it was all fodder for a song, an album, a career. It wasn’t the artist’s fault, that’s how it worked, but that didn’t make it any easier to be the person they were writing about.

Was that all she was? Another girl for Harry to write a song about?

She wanted to be happy for him, to be glowing and beaming for him, but the part of her that she hated, the part that conjured the worst possible parts of people, it was crawling out of her head. It was twisting Harry and she knew it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t believe it.

The album only lasted 40 minutes, but in those 40 minutes the party died down. People had jumped in the pool while Y/N sat by the speaker, they had finished their drinks, they had said their goodbyes, the object of the event passed. Hanna and Jamie came over and gave her hugs, concerned looks on their faces, and told her to call them if she needed anything. When she looked up, the last notes of From the Dining Table fading, it was just her left.

A light from the patio twinkled and she could see the water rippling under the moonlight. Harry.

She left the stereo silent, not cuing up another playlist, and tugged off her shoes, then her dress. Following the pull of the man who had written such a beautiful, heartbreaking, hopeful record, she walked to the patio.

“There you are.” He was floating on his back in just his boxers, which didn’t surprise Y/N in the slightest. The fairy lights they had strung up together were dim in the nighttime darkness, but just bright enough so she could see Harry and all his beauty. “Look bloody gorgeous, love.”

Y/N tucked her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, knotting the hair so it stayed. “Finished the album,” she said, walking to the water’s edge.

“Yeah?” Harry swam over to her, leaning his head on her thighs that rested on the concrete that lined the pool. “What’d you think?”

She couldn’t help the heartbroken smile that graced her features, because she was too tired to lie to him. Exhausted from trying to pretend that she didn’t think about the fact that he could leave her at any moment, that the insecurities of who she was and who he was didn’t catch up to her sometimes. His fingertips brushed at her cheeks and Y/N realized she was crying.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He hoisted himself out of the water and hooked one of his legs around her waist, pulling her into his wet skin. It was cold against the night air, but somehow Harry was still warm to her.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she said slowly, struggling to find her words.

Fingers drifted up and down her back. “Just do your best.”

She tried not to think about the fact that she was crying on his album release day, that they were having this conversation now. One that sat in the back of her mind when she was alone and Harry couldn’t banish it. “The album is beautiful, Harry,” she started, “but it’s about a past that I wasn’t a part of.” Harry was quiet, but his arms didn’t move from their place around her, so she forged on. “I know that artists write from their experience, and that this album was done before I met you, but there’s this part of me, this horrible part that I utterly despise, that is jealous of them. The women who you wrote about. And the fact that it’s them that you’re going to sing about on stage every night. Does that make sense?”

The brush of his chin against her spine showed her that yes, he understood.

“And,” she continued, voice breaking, “I can’t stop thinking about the fact that maybe I’m going to be a song.”

“Of course you’re going to be a song,” Harry said, his voice soft and sweet.

He didn’t get it. To him, being a song was an honor, but to her, it was a threat almost. “No—it’s that I’m going to be only a song.”

The man next to her didn’t say a word. The chirp of the crickets stretched between their bodies, which were still close on the concrete floor, not a muscle moved.

“I don’t want to only be a song.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse, sobs wracking her body she didn’t expect, didn’t want. She couldn’t have this conversation if she was crying, but she couldn’t hold them in either. It was her biggest fear, the one that festered below all of the others, threatening to consume the relationship she had with a man she was falling for. And falling was the only way to describe it—without any support, a free fall that was utterly terrifying but also blissful peaceful.

Suddenly, his fingers swept across her neck, brushing against her sensitive skin. “Y/N,” he whispered, “you could never be just a song. You’re—you’re like the stars and the moon to me. In that room I could always feel you, wherever you were, and I didn’t want to be anywhere where you weren’t. And maybe this is too fast and too soon, but what I feel for you, fuck Y/N how can you not see how much you are to me?”

He pulled her head so she faced him, his eyes teary to match her own. “Do you hear me? You’re so much more than a song. You’re an album. You’re my life’s work, my masterpiece, a symphony. A song can’t contain how I feel for you, it’s just a piece of a billion I could write.”

Soft as a feather, his lips pressed to her cheeks and then up and across her forehead, over her eyelids, barely leaving a mark but a searing fire in his wake that shook Y/N’s core. “And Y/N, you’re better than a song. You’re my life. You’re here, you’re real, you’re with me. Y/N, you will never be just a song to me. You never could be. Not to me.”

Y/N rested her forehead against his, inhaling his cologne and exhaling her feelings for him. He managed to rip down all her defenses, the ones she had spent years building up, and it was frightening. But then she looked at him, the way he smiled at her, the way he kissed her, the way he said her name, and it wasn’t quite as scary. She hoped he could feel how much she cared for him in the way she kissed him, their tears blending into one as they scrambled for each other. Lips breaking and meeting, desperate for more and more and more. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, holding him to her, wanting to have his whole body imprinted on hers.

“Y/N,” he breathed, “you heard me? You understand?”

“Yes,” she replied softly, “I hear you.” She brushed her fingers through his hair gently, curling the wet strands back. “You may need to remind me sometimes.”

“Always,” he whispered, catching her kiss with his own, tugging her into him, arms around her body in a vice grip.

She lost herself in Harry, him an ocean and her a boat lost at sea. Maybe it was their conversation or the night or the alcohol flowing through their veins, but it felt different. The way he kissed her felt heavier, her moans a prayer, his fingers on his back a weight she never wanted lifted. Her legs wrapped around his waist so she was firmly in his lap, arms thrown over his shoulders, their bare bodies except for their underwear pressed against each other without a molecule of air between them.

His lips drew a line across the top of her shoulder, a fire building in her belly as his fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. It was a light pink she’d worn just for him and when he nudged at the strap with his nose, letting it slip from her shoulders, she didn’t care that he could barely see it. She’d show him tomorrow morning. He pulled the fabric away and bent his head, licking at one of her nipples and then the other, gasps falling from her mouth like poetry. Without meaning to, her hips rolled over his cock, the thin fabric of their underwear doing nothing to keep the heat of her center from touching his sensitive skin.

He moaned her name, the sound muffled against her neck as he sucked a love bite into the spot that made her keen every time he nipped into it. She rocked again on him, his fingers digging into her skin so hard it would leave marks tomorrow but she didn’t care. In fact, she wanted to have his marks on her tomorrow, she wanted to show the world that she wasn’t just a song, she was his, she was his girlfriend and she made him feel this way.

Hands on skin, he pressed her down onto the concrete so she was lying down, her ankles tucked around his hips, anchoring her to him. When his hips bucked into hers, she let out a sharp cry, the angle brushing her clit perfectly. “Right there?” He mumbled, nipping and tugging on her nipple, laving a circle that left her squirming against the concrete.

“Off,” she whispered, tugging at his boxers with her hands. “Wanna feel you.” With his help, they shimmied off his boxers without too much difficulty and Y/N let out a sigh of relief when she could feel his cock brush against her covered folds. Reaching a hand down, she brushed the pad of her thumb across his tip, a pained hiss flying from Harry’s throat. He was sensitive and Y/N loved it.

They didn’t have a condom, but she didn’t care. She’d been on birth control for years and she knew Harry hadn’t slept with anyone else since she found her way into his life. Plus, she needed him—she wanted to feel him, raw and bare inside of her.

They were going to have sex on the concrete next to his pool, but she didn’t care. They had had sex before and they would have sex again. She just needed him in a desperate, crawling way. When he nudged at her underwear she pressed into him, letting him pull them down her legs without a second thought.

“Condom,” Harry mumbled as she chased after his lips, open mouthed and heavy.

“It’s okay,” she said, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “Want you like this.”

Harry’s head dropped to the space between her neck and shoulder, the groan that filled the air unlike anything she had heard before. “Gonna ruin me,” he whispered, brushing his cock against her folds. Y/N whimpered at the sensation, her fingers begging him for more, for anything she would give him. When his fingers brushed her clit, his name tumbled from her lips without abandon.

“Harry, please,” she panted, fingers deep in his hair.

That was all it took. She was so wet from the foreplay and just him that he didn’t even need to stretch her out. Her mouth fell open as he pushed inside, a mewl landing on his lips as he kissed her. Slowly, he pulled out and then back in, both of them groaning from the sensation of him being bare inside her. He felt impossibly close, every ridge and edge of him pressing against her in the most perfect way. She didn’t know if she could use condoms again, because holding Harry to her chest, arms around his shoulders as he fucked slowly, deeply, into her, her able to feel every inch of her, it was bliss on a new level. A sensation she didn’t know she was missing with him.

Her ankles hitched higher on his hips and when he pushed back in he hit a new angle, a groan ripping from his throat that set her on fire. “Can I go faster?” He said with a grunt. “I—I don’t know how much—“

“Yes,” she whimpered at his words.

He didn’t wait. He drew back and into her, pistoning his hips at a pace she couldn’t even describe, hitting that spot deep inside of her that made her eyes roll back over and over. How he managed to do that she didn’t know, but he deserved an award. Fingers grabbing at his skin in desperation for something to hold her together, Y/N gasped and exhaled his name, a plea and a beg and a prayer all in one. Her back hurt from the concrete but she didn’t care, she just wanted to finish, to feel him release deep inside of her.

Then he thumbed over her clit and she arched up, back leaving the concrete as the fire deep within her threatened to bubble over. When he start brushing circles there, Y/N gripped his shoulders like they would keep her anchored to Earth, her body possibly transcending. Harry bent his head and sucked a love bite on her breast, the puncture of skin forcing her head back, unable to keep it together.

“You close?” He asked, littering her chest with kisses, “Please tell me you are, I can’t, I can’t hold on…”

She mumbled a yes as he drove deep inside of her, swiveling his hips in a brutal way that left her hands squeezing his butt cheeks to get him to do it again. When he did, she swore she saw stars. “Gonna come,” she said, eyes searching for his lips in the low lighting. “Kiss?”

Without hesitation, he kissed her, open mouthed and dirty and sloppy and perfect. She wanted every rough-edged and sweet part of him, every kiss and press of his body against hers. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he chanted as he pressed into her again and again, her body drawing tighter and tighter. Then, he pinched her clit and she came, the ball in her tummy unravelling, hips bucking up against him as she rode out her high. Her eyes stayed trained on him as she did, not wanting to miss his face when he came inside of her.

His hips stuttered, release unloading inside of her in ropes that left him cursing like a sailor. Hair wet and sweaty, sticking to his forehead, and irises blown out, he looked beautiful. She held him close until his body settled, shaking as he came down from his high, forehead resting on the swell of her breasts.

Slowly, he rolled off of her, tugging her body into his so she wasn’t on the cold concrete anymore. He was fiery hot and it kept her warm in the cold air. “Can we never use a rubber again?” He asked softly, and she giggled, hiding her face in his neck.

“Don’t see any reason to,” she replied and he hummed with joy. Tucking her hands under her chin, she looked at him with a smile. “Congrats on your album, baby.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear tenderly. “I’m so happy I shared today with you.” She kissed him softly and let him hold her close, not wanting to move even to go to bed because it meant leaving his grasp. And as much as her head told her that it wasn’t forever, she couldn’t help but hope it would be.

It had been four days since Harry had texted her. Five since he called her. Six since they FaceTimed.

He was in London for the press junket for Dunkirk and Y/N was supposed to fly out for the July 13th premiere—it was decided a month ago, the tickets booked and her time off from work already approved. But as the days stretched on and the silence grew longer, she couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong. If she had done something wrong.

It wasn’t the first time he had been away from LA. They had a conversation about how they were going to handle distance when he travelled back in April, before the album came out and he had to fly around and do press for two weeks. That time, though, he handled it well—he called every night before she went to bed if he could, if not, he sent a long voice memo that she listened to when she woke up. They texted all day, him sending photos from dressing rooms and backstage at talk shows, even FaceTiming her so she could meet the stars he shared the nights with.

But this time was different. Since he left he had texted her just a handful of times and it was when he was at his mom’s house visiting home before press started. And then once press kicked into gear, he was gone, her texts ignored, calls not returned. She was trying not to seem desperate, but with the more time that passed the more anxious she got. It wasn’t how this was supposed to go, this wasn’t what they’d agreed on. He knew her fears, the dark thoughts that crowded in when she spent too much time worrying about their relationship, and yet he wasn’t taking the actions that helped her calm down. Even though she knew it wasn’t his responsibility to take care of her brain, it helped to know he thought about her, at the very least.

The morning before her flight was supposed to leave, she called Hanna in a panic. Her suitcases laid open on her bed, clothes scattered around her, tears streaming down her face. She had tried to call Harry again to confirm her arrival plans, only to be met with his voicemail, again.

Hi, you’ve reached Harry. I’ll give you a call back when I can!

Somehow, the sound of his voice made it worse.

“Han,” she choked out when her friend picked up, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Did he not answer?” Hanna had been counseling her through the whole thing, helping her stay calm and sane, as much as possible at least. From Y/N’s lack of response, just more sobs, Hanna knew immediately. “That prick.”

Y/N wiped a tear from her eye and looked at the ticket in her hand. Harry had forced her to accept his offer of first-class, booking her flight through his agent and everything. “Does he even want me there? Should I not go?”

Hanna was quiet, thoughts rolling through her head. “No,” she finally said. “You should go. Even if it’s just to talk to him in person. You deserve to hear it face-to-face, not by him ghosting you.”

“Even if that means I end up in London and he breaks up with me?”

“Yes,” Hanna replied softly. “But I really, really hope that is not what’s happening.”

At first it had been that he was busy, that he would text when he had time, but it had been six days. Now, both Y/N and Hanna were increasingly worried that it meant the end of their relationship and Y/N was simply not ready for that possibility. She had let Harry in—he had begged her to let him in—and he was going to end things like this? When things got hard with the distance he just…cut her out? “Can you take me to the airport?” Y/N asked, sniffling. “If you don’t I don’t think I’ll be able to force myself to go.”

“Was already planning on it,” Hanna replied. “I’ll bring snacks for the flight.”

“Love you,” Y/N told her. Hanna was her one constant, who knew Y/N better than she knew herself.

“Love you more. Now go finish packing and call me if you need me, okay?”

Y/N told her okay and hung up, her gaze shifting to her suitcase. If he was going to break up with her, then she was going to look so magnificent he would regret every second of it.

Eleven hours in the air meant plenty of time to run over her entire relationship with Harry. She had sat curled up in her seat scrolling through her camera roll and listening to Bon Iver, which was the sappiest thing possible and she didn’t care. Y/N didn’t want to break up with him and the photos and the texts and the memories proved it. Her time with Harry had been so beautifully bright, his presence in her life making so much better, from her confidence to her knowledge to her music taste. And she cared about him in a way she hadn’t let herself do—ever.

She had texted Jeff before she took off, telling him she couldn’t get a hold of Harry and asking where she should go when she landed. He replied with Harry’s Hampstead address and the door code, saying there was a key waiting for her, hidden in the garden, an apology on Harry’s behalf for how busy he had been. The words meant nothing, though, to Y/N. If Harry wanted to apologize he would have to do it in person, not through Jeff.

It was eleven by the time her Uber pulled up to Harry’s house and she thanked the driver as he tugged her luggage from the boot. She waited until he pulled away before she typed in the gate code, not wanting to reveal Harry’s security to anyone—she have been mad at him, but she still didn’t want anything happening to him. The door unlocked for her and she slid inside, shutting it quickly behind her. Pulling her suitcase behind her, she walked up the path, searching for the garden statue Jeff had told her the key was hiding under. When she found it, her fingers ran across the ridges as she made her way to the front door.

His house in LA was warm, it was the Harry she knew. But this house felt colder, the design modern, his personal affects not as visible. Although to his credit, he hadn’t been here for more than a few days in months. A few photos of Anne and Gemma were scattered through the front hall, some framed photos of his time in One Direction nestled between them.

“Harry?” She knew he wasn’t there, but the idea of walking into his house without checking felt too uncomfortable for her. She locked the door tightly behind her, typing in the security code Jeff had sent before re-arming it.

Y/N took her time exploring his house. She perused the main spaces, testing out the couches and peeking at his bookcases, studying the art lining the walls. Then she made her way upstairs to the bedrooms, running her fingers along the edges of his One Direction album plaques that lined the walls of his office, the ones from his debut still resting on the floor waiting to be hung. She found the guest bedrooms with ease and she spent a good five minutes standing on the landing deciding if she should go into his bedroom or set herself up in a guest one.

She settled on a guest bedroom. If he was going to break things off, she didn’t want to know what his bed felt like or smell his clothes or take a shower in his bathroom.

Instead, she showered in the guest bath, washing off the plane smell that lingered on her body. She dressed in shorts and a tank top, letting her hair air dry since she would have to just re-style it for the premiere later. Jeff hadn’t told her what time Harry would be back and she was ravenous, so she wandered downstairs to fix herself some lunch. To fill the silence in the house she turned on The 1975, playing the music from her laptop she had open on the counter as she cooked some pasta she had found in the cabinet. As she ate at his dining table, she tried not to think about the fact that this could be the last time she was in a space of Harry’s. The last time she sat on things he had picked out, the last time she rooted through his fridge, past his obnoxious green juices and leftovers since he hated eating out if he didn’t have to. Her fingers brushed at her eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

Reaching down for her fork to take another bite, she suddenly heard the lock click in the front door and the security system begin to beep.

He was home.

She slid her bowl away from her and turned to look at the doorway, waiting to see his face for the first time in over a week. And when he appeared, she couldn’t the return the stretched across his face at the sight of her in his house. He looked the same and somehow that was worse. In a nice shirt from interviews this morning, his hair slightly tossed from running his fingers through it, the sheen on his upper lip from the heat outside. He looked like her Harry, but she didn’t know if he was hers anymore.

“Y/N!” His voice rebounded off the walls, filling her heart with a kind of hope that was crushing.

“Hi,” was all she could muster before looking back down at her pasta. An anger rose in her, replacing the hurt that had lingered for so many days. How could he pretend like everything was okay? How could he smile at her like he hadn’t been ignoring her for days, too busy to even check and see how her flight was?

His footsteps were heavy on the hardwood floors as he made his way over to her. “Baby? What is it?”

“Do you want to break up?” She asked, her question hard compared to his kind, gentle, tentative tone.

“What?” Harry dropped into the seat caddy-corner to the chair she sat in. “What are you talking about?”

She pushed away her bowl and looked him dead in the eye. “I haven’t heard from you in days, Harry. Days. I flew halfway across the world for you and you couldn’t even manage to check-in to see if I was alive?”

He flinched at her words, eyes dropping to the table they sat at. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, words barely audible above her heart beating a mile a minute, pulsing with anger.

“That’s not going to cut it,” she told him, standing up and taking her bowl to the sink. “You fucking ghosted me like I was a girl you’d just met. We’re about to celebrate six months together. And you know what this shit does to me.”

And he did. She could see in his eyes that he knew he was in the wrong, and yet he was quiet. “I was busy.”

“So was I! But I still found two seconds to text you asking how it was going, I found fifteen minutes before bed to call you, and I kept trying even though you couldn’t even manage to reply to me. You’re not that busy, Harry.”

He stood too, walking over to where she stood in his kitchen so that he was a few paces away from her. “I was in and out of interviews from morning to night and when I wasn’t, I was with the cast who I haven’t seen in almost a year. And when I wasn’t doing that Jeff was harassing me about tour details or I was sleeping. I’m sorry if my schedule didn’t allow me to talk to you at every second of the day, Y/N, but this is a huge moment for me and I had to focus on that.” His words were measured, but she could feel the tension rising between them, words unsaid bubbling over.

“And your career is more important than our relationship.” She nodded sarcastically, wiping her wet palms on the dish towel and turning to face him. “Got it, heard loud and clear.”

“Fuck—you know it’s not!” His hand ran through his locks and down his face, struggling to get a handle on his breathing.

“Harry,” she said, trying not to yell, “I’m not going to force you to stay in a relationship that you don’t want to put the time in for. But you know exactly what I need from you—I have been very clear. You know my fears and my insecurities, and you know what triggers them. We had a plan for how to deal with this, and you completely disregarded it!” Her voice rose at the end, the fact that he couldn’t even meet her eyes pushing all of her buttons. “Fucking look at me when I talk to you!”

His eyes met hers and she didn’t see the Harry she knew, the Harry who cared for her, the soft, gentle man. Instead, she saw someone who was pissed off and hurt and grasping at straws. “I can’t dance around your fears every moment of the day,” he said, voice spitting anger. “And I’m sorry if that breaks one of your rules,” the word hitting her in the face, “but you’re going to have to get over it because I can’t spend every second of the day wondering if something I did or said has made you think I don’t care about you! You should know that I don’t want to hurt you, that of course I want to be with you!”

“Well, how am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me!” His words stabbed her right where it hurt, hitting her fears right in the heart.

Harry turned, his body facing the counter, fingers gripping the edge of the marble. He sucked in breath after breath trying to calm himself down and Y/N tried to find it within herself to have sympathy for him, but she just…couldn’t. She was so pissed off at him she couldn’t think straight.

“I’m not some girl waiting around for Harry Styles to come home, begging him to never leave me,” Y/N said. She was done. She was done with this fight, with him expecting her to be someone she wasn’t. “I’m me and I’m waiting for Harry, the person I care for so deeply it hurts—you are held to the same standards as every other guy, no matter how busy your schedule is. I should not be expected to fit into your schedule all the time. It goes both ways and you operated this week as if it was entirely my job to stay in touch with you. And I am not going to stay in a relationship like that.”

Harry’s head whipped to hers, eyes boring straight into her. “Are you saying you want to break up?”

Y/N tried to keep her head high, tried to hold back the tears. “If you’re going to do this when you’re on tour, I’m done. You know what I want—it’s the same thing I wanted from this relationship the moment I met you. You’re the only one who seems to think things have changed.” And with that, she stormed out of the room, which was probably petty but she didn’t care. She was so mad at him for his actions and his words that she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him.

Harry didn’t follow her.

At 1 o’clock, a knock came on her door.

“If you still want to come, we have to leave for the premiere in an hour. It’s up to you.” And with that, he walked away, not even waiting for her to open the door.

She sat on the bed, considering her options. Did she go and support him anyway, pretend everything was fine? Or did she stay here—or maybe find a hotel—and leave him alone for the premiere?

He had told her how nervous he was about this. This was his first time on a movie red carpet as an actor and he was freaking out about it before he left, a ball of anxiety that she had to carefully untangle. The thought of him being up there alone pained her, despite how his hurtful words lingered in her head. That she had to get over it as if it was that simple.

The red dress she had bought for the premiere hung in the bathroom where she had left it while she showered so the wrinkles would leave the fabric. It was beautiful—a tiered taffeta skirt that cinched in at the waist, a caged bodice showing off her shoulders. When she had tried it on she had felt beautiful, powerful, as if she could take on anything and everything. She had spent a ton of money on the dress and she didn’t want to waste it.

So she got up, turning on BANKS and set about her hair and makeup in the bathroom, praising Hanna for teaching her how to do her makeup in college. She painted her lips red, in the shade that she adored wearing, and twisted up her hair into a chignon that emphasized her neck. Running her fingers along the skin she remembered when Harry had kissed it, but the love bite he had left behind was long healed. Was she asking too much of him? She wondered as she looked at herself in the mirror. Was he right, were her fears stifling him?

Then she remembered what Hanna had told her. That he wasn’t anyone different from other guys she had dated, and what she was asking from him wasn’t out of left field. Any guy she would date she would except to check in with her when he was traveling and Harry was no different, no matter what his job was.

Harry was waiting downstairs for her, probably having heard her rummaging around in the closet. When he heard her heels on the stairs, he looked up and his eyesight on her skin burned because he looked gorgeous. Maybe this was a horrible idea, she thought as she made her way towards him. She would have to touch him all night, look at him in his tailored suit, gaze into his green eyes as they were photographed on the red carpet.

“You look beautiful,” he said, words gravelly in his throat.

She stopped a few paces away from him. “Thanks.”

He fiddled with his keys, the silence stretching between them. “Thank you for coming with me. I know you have no reason to, but having you there…It means a lot.”

Instead of replying, because she didn’t have words for him, she just nodded. Because she did have a reason—even though she was mad at him, she still cared for him. Despite not wanting to, she still craved him giving her a kiss on the cheek as they walked out the door.

The drive to the red carpet was quiet, the radio playing softly in the background the only sound. They sat on either side of the backseat, Y/N staring out the window while Harry fiddled with his phone. She hadn’t been to London since she was 18 for her graduation present from her mom, and the city held warm memories for her. She wondered if that would change after today.

When they pulled up, an anxiety Y/N didn’t know she was holding started building, the sight of the photographers and the screams from the fans barricaded in. With all that had been happening, she had somehow forgotten what going to the premiere meant for her. Her eyes fell to Harry who was staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction. She had never done this before and he knew that.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he said, trying to calm her fears. “Promise.” It helped. At least she wouldn’t be completely alone. “Ready?” He stretched out a hand to her and she took it, letting him help her from the car.

The second her feet hit the pavement, the screams got louder. Fans with signs and their phones outstretched on either side of the wide red carpet, the word DUNKIRK in large white letters closest to the entrance to the theater. Harry’s hand gripped her as she stood, thankful for his body to help her keep balanced.

“Just smile as best you can,” he whispered in her ear as the car pulled away behind them. “And if your eyes start hurting from the flashes, just look at me, okay?”

Y/N nodded, and with his hand in hers, fingers entertained, they made their way down the carpet. He stopped a few times to take photos with fans and sign cards, but all that time he never strayed too far from Y/N’s side. With his arm securely wrapped around her waist, they stood for photos, Y/N trying to stand up as straight as she could and smile sweetly. Harry was a pro at this, a smile practiced for years, but she didn’t have the same experience. She was just a regular person who didn’t know which side was her bad side and had her eyes closed in half her photos.

The cameramen screamed questions at them, about their relationship, if they were married. They’d never quite publicly announced their relationship, Harry preferring to keep his private life private, so this was the first time they’d ever even publicly been out as a couple. And for it to be like this…Y/N hated it. She wanted to stand there and be utterly infatuated with Harry like she usually was, but this time her spine was rimrod straight, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was awkward, the way he tentatively touched her body, not wanting to overstep but also wanting to present the aura of normalcy.

Then they took a few steps and rotated to another set of cameras and Y/N understood what Harry had meant about her eyes hurting from the flashes. She turned her head to him and he found her eyes, giving her a wide smile meant just for her. Without thinking about it, her hand pressed to his suit right over his heart, the soft material of his suit jacket butter under her fingers. Then, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, softly and sweetly and to most it wouldn’t have meant much. But to Y/N, it was the first time he had kissed her since she’d seen him. And the feeling of his lips on her skin lingered, a tingle moving through her body. Her hand gripped his back a little tighter and he just kept smiling at her, utterly entranced by her eyes.

Their bodies had betrayed them. To anyone who looked, they would have seen perfectly fine, not that they had been fighting only two hours ago. But they knew the reality, and this moment, their bodies close together and emotions running through them without being able to stop it, it made it clear that neither of them wanted to break up. They would just have to find a way to move through it.

TAGLIST

@smokeinherperfume @afire-hes @harryinsweatersandbandanas @marinalima3 @havethetimeofyourstyles @ursogoldenshan @inmygardensuit @marinalima3 @amaridon @harrys-watermelons @dontgiveupthedayjob @cronias13 @apples2019 @laula843 @afterstylesmadeit  @kait-brin @harrys-watermelons @groovybaybee @clumsywithlove93 @1142590m @erin0717 @ketchuplukehemmo​ 

Would you like to know when I update The Only Exception? Let me know here!

NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 11TH @ NOON CST

[whyqueerbaitingisbad]

movies & shows

cracks knuckles* alright this is going to be more of a rant than an analysis because i’m basing this on both my research, but also how it felt to personally be baited by these shows. there are obviously more pieces of bad (almost every horror movie) and good ones but these are the ones i’ve watched.

please keep in mind that i am but one queer and everyone has different opinions.

Supernatural (CW) 2005

This show is 15 years old and just ended. From season 5 till 15, there has been tension between two of the lead characters. They were constantly shipped together and not only did the entire fandom know about this ship but so did almost all of Tumblr. On top of that, the actors and show runners knew about it as well. Which is why it makes it ridiculous that it was constantly pushed aside while the romantic coding  kept happening, even after show runners dismissed it as being intentional. The Destiel (Dean x Cas) case has been going on for years, and as the show came to its end, many fans had hope. But N O P E. Instead, we got a love confession from Cas where Dean looked like he was near constipated and the Cas was killed and sent into a fiery place that was not hell but s u p e r  h e l l.

… w hy.

Sherlock (BBC) 2010

Just like Supernatural, this show was renown on Tumblr for not only how good it was, but its hinting at a potential relationship between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. But again, like Supernatural, the intentional tension between the two characters was denied by producers. This caused an uproar within the fandom, and even left some people believing that, after the last season aired, it had been a joke and the producers were hiding a “secret, unaired season” because they had felt so robbed by this show that had implied something and denied it.

The 100 (CW) 2014

We got lesbians. We got background gays. We were happy. Then, all of a sudden, one of them is killed for no reason. Did it advance the plot? No. Was she fighting and died in battle? lol no. She was doing literally nothing and got shot and died. And then the producers kept bringing her back once a season in the form of a ghost or illusion because why? Because she was a fan favourite queer character. ✨bury your gays and sparingly bring them back for profit anyone?✨

Voltron: Legendary Defender (Netflix) 2016

*deep breathe* This one is a special disaster. Not only was there romantic tension and romantically coded scenes for 7 seasons, but producers, voice actors and artists working on the show repeatedly said “don’t worry klance (Keith x Lance) shippers, you’ll be happy”

. … w h e r e??? You code one of their scenes with a sunset in the background while they talk about love and then one of them goes on a date with someone who has declined his advances for 7 seasons but now in season 8 decides to do a full 180. Not only that, but you announce at a Comic Con (a convention) that a character is gay and has a fiancé, only to kill off the fiancé and never make it explicit in the show except at the last second of the last episode where he marries a no name character. 

Personally, i’d like to say a big fuck you to the show that strung me along for 2 years and never stopped saying we’d be happy to then pull the rug out from under us and call us crazy for thinking anything from the past 8 seasons was intentional.

Scooby-Doo (2002) 

While not being outwardly queerbaiting, this movie’s filmmaker has just revealed some shocking news, which wasn’t at all shocking to the gays who had watched this movie over the years. In July of 2020, James Gunn, the filmmaker of Scooby-Doo, revealed in a podcast that, initially, Velma was explicitly gay in his script, but then the studio watered it down until it became nothing. This isn’t an example of baiting as much as it is changing a character’s initial design to “better fit an audience”. The worst part of all this is that with Velma’s character having been written with a l i t t l e queer subtext, people had been theorizing about if since the movie came out, but were always yelled at by the internet for “imagining something that isn’t there”. But now, even with it being said that the initial point was for her to be gay, people have no objections to still refusing to accept it. Why?? So we can’t get the subtext gays OR the confirmed gays?? Make it make sense.

Brooklyn 99 (NBC) 2013

To have the queer characters firstly introduced without mentioning their sexualities and have it brought up naturally was so goddamn nice to see, because no one does a big deal about it unless they ask for that. This show is amazing in general but the way they show their queer characters is *chefs kiss*.

She-ra and the Princesses of Power (Netflix) 2018

This. Show. My heart SOARS. It's just a remake of an old show so absolutely nothing was ever expected, but then it was sprinkled in and ENDED WITH A BANG. And it was so beautiful and real to see the struggle of two friends who care for each other and want to be together but have different visions of the world fall in love. And they also had characters with disabilities, a non-binary character and jUST SUCH A GOOD SHOW.

Kipo and The Age of Wonderbeasts (Netflix) 2020

This is a case where you go into it not expecting anything and are BLOWN AWAY by the bare minimum. And not because it’s bad!! It's mind blowing because this is the simple representation we need!! Not something over the top, but an every day relationship. It’s just two boys falling in love and going on dates and being nervous around each other, yet i was so stunned. Because it’s not shown enough. I should not be this excited over something that should be this normal. 10/10 though this show is so good for all kinds of representation.

Steven Universe (Cartoon Network) 2013

This show did so much for queer representation with its general message of loving everyone and loving who you want. Especially since it was aired on Cartoon Network, a channel for kids, it was able to help normalize something so looked down upon in some circles. It made it easy to watch for s o m e people because it's a cartoon but it's so beautiful to see these ladies so in love with each other, both platonically and romantically and we see them have a family dynamic that isn’t a “nuclear family”. Rebecca Sugar (creator) really said “lemme just break all stereotypes real quick”.

Adventure Time (Cartoon Network) 2010

It's the “knowing a fanbase shipped something so hard that the creators made it canon” for me. This relationship had been theorized by fans for years, but it had never been explicit in the show. When the finale episode came out and the two shared a kiss, it was a moment of celebration. The producer of the show said that it had not really been planned but when the episode was being made, the choice of what happened was given to one of the artists (bless your soul Hanna K. Nyströmthe). And as the show releases little bonus episodes, its latest was centered around Marceline and Bubblegum and their relationship. AND WE LOVE TO SEE OUR DOMESTIC LESBIANS BEING HAPPY AND IN LOVE.

Yuri on Ice!!! (anime) 2016

The fact that an A N I M E gave us a love story between two men is mind boggling and it makes me so happy!! Especially because it's a Japanese show and they’re very conservative about these things just makes it more emotional. The creators said they wanted to make the anime take place in a world where gay/straight isn’t a thing, it’s just love (ladies, you’re going to make me cry). So as the weekly episodes came out and fans start speculating, THEY GAVE US THE LAST FEW EPISODES FULL OF ROMANCE AND EMOTIONAL SCENES BETWEEN THE TWO AND THEN THEY GET R I N GS?!???!! You watch for the figure skating, you stay for the figure skaters that are in love.

Shadowhunters (Freeform) 2016

*insert me being frustrated that the actors are straight so we can move on from that disappointment*

This show really said “let’s name a whole episode after this couple because they deserve it”. But seriously, they gave us two characters whose entire plot does not center around their sexualities while still showing us the differences in a relationship between someone experienced and someone new at this. They were both powerful and amazing characters apart from each other, with their own story lines and goals but they loved each other so much omgs. SO MUCH. 

It was so great to watch.

Love, Simon (2018) 

There’s a lot of disagreement on whether this movie is good representation or not. However, we need to take into consideration that this was Hollywood’s first movie with a main character that was gay, where the story’s focus was on Simon’s love story. The biggest problem, for me at least, was that the actor playing Simon is a straight man and not queer. My problem is not with him, but the fact that there are other actors that are gay and that could have played Simon just as well. (the love interested was however played by a queer actor so ✨progress✨)

All in all, this movie does represent what a lot of queer kids have to go through: being outed at school, how they then come out, the bullying and doubt they go through.

The book is also really good.

Call Me By Your Name (2018)

This movie is so aesthetically pleasing and was able to capture the confusion and heartbreak felt by a boy who’s struggling with his own feelings towards a man. His inner conflict and joy and l o v e he feels but doesn’t know how to deal with is so well communicated through the screen and just breaks your heart because it feels so real.

But again, they could’ve gotten gay actors to play gay characters…

through having this list here, i want to show you that it’s not hard for creators to give good queer representation. the LGBTQ+ community isn’t asking for much, we just want to be well represented on screen as just a regular character, not some token queer kid there for the diversity points. having been exposed to so much queerbaiting and just not seeing any representation on screen, i always get over-excited when i see a queer character, and that’s not how it should be. it should be a normal thing, something you can find in most pieces of media, just like there’s a straight white cisgender person in everything.

and they seriously need to start casting queer actors for queer characters...

[loveme-likeme-hateme]

In addition to my „Boys I‘m obsessed with“ post, I would like to share some gorgeous woman with you guys. Fun fact, most of the time my boyfriend snd I are watching TV or whatever and there is a beautiful girl/woman, I don‘t get jealous. Mostly because my boyfriend is like „Nope, I got a girlfriend. No fucks given. Walk by and let me be.“ (😂). Actually I am the one going on about how beautiful she is and so on... Anyways he‘s always like „No thanks. I choose life!“ 😂 okay okay enough about my relationship, here are some beautiful human beings you could say I am obsessed with:

Veronica Lodge and Betty Cooper

Some of you may have read my post about the first episode of Riverdale season 5. If you read it you kinda should have gotten the idea that I love Veronica. And I do. Don‘t blame me. But I also love Betty, even though her latest decisions are problematic. I do love their friendship and I wish there would be more bestie scenes with both of them. Makes me kind of sad. Nevermind I‘m fine :) But anyways those two woman and their actresses are just 😍

Caroline Forbes (TVD)

Oh. My. God. I am so in love. Actually when I first started watching TVD I hated the way she acted but her character development was just perfection, let‘s be honest. I kind of saw myself in her so I could relate to her more than to any other character in the show. So yeah... Caroline Forbes my darlings. My all time favorite TVD girl😍

Rebekah Mikaelson (The Originals)

Please tell me you love her too. I mean look at her 👀 Do I really have to day anything else? Oh god she is soo fine 🔥 I remember the actress playing one of Emilys love interests in Pretty Little Liars and I loved her too.

Hanna Marin and Ario Montgomery (Pretty Little Liars)

The first time I watched PLL Aris was my favourite. I loved her looks, her attitude, almost everything. Don‘t get me wrong I still love her and she is sooo goddamn beautiful, but as I told you in one of my my recent posts Hanna Marin is my favourite liar. She is equally beautiful and she is so kind, loving and funny 😍 I love it. If I could have Hanna Marin as one of my closest friends, I would be more than just happy. 🥰 so yeah... Hanna and Aria👀❤️

Bella & season 3 Cleo + season 3 Rikki (H2O)

Ok ok... hear my out! This is one of my favourite childhood TV shows and I was obsessed with mermaids. I even wanted to make my own movie and made my mom buy me a memaid tail so I could wear it in the pool. Yep... pretty embarrassing I know 😂 But hey, I was young and lived my best life so... anyways. I actually think season 1 and season 2 were better than season 3 because Emma was an OG and when she left it wasn‘t the same, BUT I liked it that they were older and more grown-up in season 3, because Cleo annoyed me so god damn much especially in season one, but her in season 3... 🥰 Also Bella was a little too „perfect“ for my taste but she was beautiful and kind so yeah... Just beautiful! All 3 of them!😍

Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl)

Oh yeah... She is the crazy bitch and we love her! Or at least I do. I loved her from the beginning and I never stopped. This girl is gorgeous, strong, extremely powerful and mayyybe a bit crazy but come on... Do I have to point out Barney Stinsons Crazy-Hot-Scale. She is my favourite main character and please don‘t start with me about Serena. Not going to end well. I only liked serena in season 1 and even then she was annoying so yeah... definitely Blair 😍

Rory Gilmore (Gilmore Girls)

Yes I know her character development was a little bit disappointing but I could never get over season 1 to 3 Rory 😍 She was perfect in my eyes. Beautiful, smart, funny... She was my role model in my young teenage years and even after I realized I don‘t want to be like her anymore she was an important role model for me. And I will always be Team Jess, you know it!😉😍 Never getting over the fact they weren‘t endgame 😭❤️

Padme (Star Wars)

Uff 😳🔥 Anakin and Padme are both sooo freaking hot... good genes. Anyways You guys know I am obsessed with Anakin and now you know that I think Padme is freaking beautiful, but I‘m going to be honest. Their love story especially in the third movie war just forced and they had no chemistry. Thinking about the freaking chemistry Kilo and Rey had... uff... you remember the touch of their fingers? Oh god i can‘t 😳🔥😍 Anyways, Padme is smoking 🔥😍

Octavia Blake and Clarke Griffin (The 100)

They are both fighters and strong beautiful woman. They had to go through so much pain and they both came out stronger than they were before. I loved The 100 but I have never read the books, maybe I should 🤔 Anyways I love them 😍

Okay I am pretty sure that there are more beautiful woman that I just forgot (shame on me) and there are millions of beautiful people out there. Go give them some love! ❤️

Love you guys ❤️🥰

[never-a-tale-of-more-poe]

CHAPTER 7: In with the New

tw: sexual content, anger

Note: Guys, if you like the surprise in this chapter and would like more of it, please let me know and I will be happy to include more in future chapters. I hope you guys like this!

Also, as I mentioned before, since I decided to add this in I had to omit some of the things I had previously planned to include in this chapter. If something you thought would be in this chapter is now absent, please message me with what and I will be sure to include it. (i.e., any requests/questions I didn’t answer, etc.

I really appreciate each and every one of you, and this is was sort of my way of thanking you guys for being so kind and supportive to and of me.

Enjoy!

P.S. The surprise included in this chapter will not be in the chapters posted on FF.net/Ao3. 

 There were one thousand, six hundred, and forty-eight little air holes in Spencer’s cell. She’d counted every single one. It was the only thing that helped keep her mind off of everything that was going on. Spencer wasn’t even sure what was going on.

Though she did know this: she was locked underground, in a tiny cell no bigger than the average bedroom, her former high school teacher occupied the cell across from her, and her twin was running around Rosewood as her, probably setting mailboxes on fire or something.

Spencer had been positive that her friends would notice – that there would be something that didn’t seem quite right – but it seemed less likely as more time passed. Alex was her identical twin – everything about their physical appearance was identical. It was such a mind-fuck that Spencer half-expected to be ambushed with cameras and told it was a not-so-hilarious joke. But that was even less likely than her friends noticing that the Spencer they were with wasn’t actually Spencer.

And Toby helping Alex was the icing on the putrid cake she’d been force-fed. He had explained to Spencer that he knew about Alex a long time ago, but had vowed never to say anything to anyone. He wouldn’t reveal why he was helping Alex, or what he was getting in return, but apparently Toby and Wren were pretty good friends. What was more was that Toby had promised Spencer that he wouldn’t hurt her. And he hadn’t.

Ezra, though, was a different story. All Toby would say about Ezra was that Alex had “special plans” for him. He did not elaborate on what those plans were and when Ezra had cursed at him, Toby had turned off the lights to his cell and shut the first set of doors. Ezra had stayed in his silent, dark cell for over an hour, while Toby had (presumably) gone upstairs.

When Toby had finally opened the steel doors and turned on the light, Ezra was on his bed, simply staring at the wall. From that point on, Spencer and Ezra barely saw Toby except when he brought them food and water.

By the time they had eaten their second meal, Spencer really had to use the bathroom, but she was too scared to ask Toby to let her out. Instead she looked Toby dead in the eye and asked for a bucket. Not only did Toby comply, albeit reluctantly, but he brought her toilet paper and a small pack of sanitizing wipes.

When Ezra had asked for his own bucket, Toby had initially refused, but Spencer managed to talk him into it. Ezra was an asshole, but he shouldn’t have to use the bathroom in a bucket. He was still human, though in the lowest meaning of the word.

Later that night, when Alex still hadn’t returned, Toby told her to get some sleep; Alex would be back tomorrow. Needless to say Spencer didn’t sleep well. She tossed and turned, mumbling in her sleep. She only knew it was morning when Toby came down with toast, jelly and little milk cartons.

The only thing she could do was wait. Alex had to come back soon, right?

“Oh, my God,” Alison groaned.

“What?” Emily glanced up from the book she was reading.

“These kids are killing me,” Alison rubbed her eyes and sat back in the armchair she’d occupied for the past hour.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “Their essays can’t be that bad.” She was stretched out comfortably on the couch, reading Rubyfruit Jungle.

“Most of them are pretty well-written, but there are a few handfuls that are just…yikes.” Alison frowned, chewing on the end of her pen. “I can guarantee you half of these kids didn’t read the book and just used Wikipedia.”

“Ali, you used to do that,” Emily giggled. “Remember when we had to read Animal Farm in eighth-grade and you watched the movie instead, and wrote your report based off the movie?”

Alison made a face. “God, I hated that book. It was so boring.”

“So your kids probably felt the same way about what they read,” Emily pointed out. “What did they have to read, anyway?”

“Guess.” Alison smirked.

“I don’t want to guess,” Emily sighed. “Just tell me.”

“Just guess!” Alison said. “Come on.”

“Fine,” Emily grumbled. “Uh… The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn?”

“Nope,” Alison answered.

“The Scarlett Letter?” Emily guessed.

“Nah. Try again, babe,” Alison said.

“Crime and Punishment?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Ali!” Emily sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I give up. Just tell me.”

“The Crucible,” Alison said.

“Ooh, that’s a good one!” Emily nodded.

“Yeah,” Alison agreed. “And it’s not even a lengthy novel, so I don’t see why it was so difficult to read.”

Emily giggled.

“What?” Alison’s eyes narrowed.

“You sound like a stuffy old teacher,” Emily teased.

Alison picked up a pillow and threw it at her. “Oh, go back to reading your own book! I have to finish grading these papers.”

Emily stuck out her tongue, but turned back to her novel anyway. She had only been reading for about ten minutes when Alison gasped.

“That little brat!”

“What now?” Emily didn’t look up from her book this time.

“Addison,” Alison spat through her teeth.

“What’d she do, forget to cite her sources or something?” Emily joked.

“No,” Alison seethed.

Emily set her book down. Alison sounded pissed, and something told her it wasn’t because of half-assed schoolwork. She got up from her spot on the couch and walked over. “What? What is it?”

Alison thrust Addison’s paper at Emily. She was so mad her hands were starting to shake.

Emily quickly scanned the paper in front of her. Her mouth fell open and she absentmindedly perched on the arm of the couch, her arm reflexively going around Alison’s shoulders.

“Ali…” Emily didn’t really know what else to say. “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to destroy her. If she thinks she can get away with –”

But she was cutoff mid-rant by her phone’s text alert tone that sounded like an old-fashioned doorbell. She swiped her phone off the coffee table and opened the message. Her phone slipped from her hands and she scrambled to pick it up.

“WHAT THE FUCK, JASON?” Alison shouted.

“What? Are the girls hurt?!” Emily asked, alarmed.

“Look!” Alison groaned. She shoved her phone in Emily’s face. “I will kill him.”

Emily set Addison’s paper aside and glanced down at Alison’s phone. On it was of Lily and Grace in matching mint-green bonnets and new onesies.

I MUSTACHE ASK YOU A QUESTION, read one And

BUT I SHALL SHAVE IT FOR LATER, the other Of course a couple of silly onesies weren’t what made the two women so upset. What made them upset were the tiny, gold Eiffel Tower earrings in one of their daughter’s ears, and the silver snow globes in the other.

Hanna fully intended on shopping. She needed to spoil herself after her breakup with Caleb, and the worst hangover of her life that subsequently followed earlier this morning.

She had noticed a pair of Marc Jacobs heels on sale that were to die for, and had every intention of purchasing them. But it was kind of hard to focus on shoes when she had her back against the wall of a stuffy dressing room with Mona’s fingers deep inside her.

It was like something out of a goddamn Lifetime movie. The Hastings’ house was impeccably clean. The carpet looked freshly shampooed, the kitchen floor was freshly waxed, and even the damn drapes looked spotless. There was a kettle of tea on the stove, a plate of fresh-baked macaroons on the island table, and the air smelled heavenly; like fresh laundry and lavender. Peter was dressed in dark blue jeans and a plan blue T-shirt, while Veronica looked more sophisticated in black dress pants and a black blazer. It was almost eerie how put-together everything was.

Alex followed Spencer’s parents into the living room and took a seat on the couch.

“What did you want to talk about? Is everything going well at the firm?” Veronica asked, concerned, as she settled down in an armchair across from her, while Peter sat in the other chair. “Is it Mary?” Peter’s voice was taut and sharp, almost unnerving. “Yes, the firm is fine. No, it isn’t about Mary,” Alex answered, with a roll of her eyes. “I want to talk about…well, about us.” “Us?” Peter and Veronica echoed in unison. Alex paused. She wanted to ask why they never knew about her. How could that be possible? Would they have kept her, had they known? But she couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. “Why did you keep this a secret from me for so long?” Alex finally asked. “Were you….ashamed?” “No!” Veronica gasped. “We could never be ashamed of you, sweetheart. It was very complicated. Mary –”

“ – Is very unwell,” Peter cut in. “She’s sick, Spencer. We thought it would be best if you didn’t know.” “I know I am not your birth mother, honey, but I am still your mother.” Veronica sounded like she was going to start crying. Alex frowned. “Don’t cry,” she whispered. “I….” She swallowed. Suddenly she wasn’t sure what to say. What could she say without blowing everything?

“I’m going to go up to my room,” Alex said slowly, rising to her feet. “ “I’m staying with Aria for a few days,” she added, as she ascended up the stairs to Spencer’s room. “In light of…well, you know. She needs me.” “Alright,” Veronica said. “Send our regards,” Peter added. “Poor girl…” “Yeah,” Alex murmured. She hurried up the stairs, too afraid of what she would say if she stayed a moment longer. Inside her sister’s room, Alex sort of…felt at home. It was a comfortable feeling, even though the room wasn’t hers. It certainly not how she’d decorate anyway. 

Spencer had trophies lined against various shelves on the bookshelf against the far wall. A collection of awards and ribbons for “first-place” this and first-place that lined the walls of her room and stretched all the way around, from one end of the doorframe to the other. Alex walked through Spencer’s room, into her closet and pulled out a large suitcase. She went through the closest and through Spencer’s dressers, haphazardly throwing clothes into it. Then she went into Spencer’s bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash and other bathroom necessities. She stuffed Spencer’s pillows into her room, along with the comforter. As she turned to walk away from the bed, she caught of a frame photo on Spencer’s bedside table. She set down the suitcase and picked up the photo frame. Nestled inside was a picture of Aria and Spencer. Their arms were around each other’s necks, their heads thrown back in laughter. Aria’s smile was so big it reached her ears. It made Alex’s stomach churn uncomfortably, and she didn’t even realize she’d thrown the frame until it shattered against the wall opposite the bed. The sound was loud, and Alex tensed, waiting for Peter and Veronica to come running. But nothing happened. Alex exhaled loudly. She shut her eyes and rubbed her temples, much like the way Spencer herself did.

“Goddammit!” Alex grumbled. She snatched up Spencer’s suitcase and pulled on the handle. She shut off the light and exited Spencer’s room, without bothering to clean up the glass from the now-broken frame. When she made her way back downstairs, Veronica was gone, but Peter – her father – was reading a newspaper. For some reason the sight made Alex smile. Who the hell still read newspapers? Alex cleared her throat. “D-Dad?” Peter glanced up over the top of his newspaper. “Are you alright?” He set his paper down and motioned Spencer over. “You look pale. Maybe you should stay home.” Alex shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice cracking. “I just…” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Peter, who hugged her back. Alex was so overwhelmed she almost cried. It had taken twenty-three years, but she was finally in her father’s arms. Despite what he had done, he was her father. He smelled like cologne and cigars. It was so typical and cliché that Alex laughed. “What’s so funny?” Peter pulled back. “N-nothing,” Alex swallowed. “It’s just…it’s good to see you.” “It’s great to see you, too, honey,” Peter hugged Spencer again and ruffled her hair. “Come home for lunch tomorrow. Bring Aria. We’ll make an afternoon out of it.” “Really?” Alex brightened. “Yeah, why not?” Peter smiled. Alex hugged her father once more and left. As soon as she got in her car, pulled out of the driveway and turned the corner she burst into tears. 

So…that was what it was like. That’s what it felt like to get a real hug from her father. It was a feeling Alex was sure she would never tire of.

When Alex arrived back at the bunker, Toby was yelling at Ezra. Again. She had walked in to hear the end of another rant of his, but didn’t care enough to ask about it. She pulled Toby aside and they spoke in hushed whispers, while glancing at their hostages every few seconds. Alex pressed a sealed envelope into Toby’s awaiting hands and bid him goodbye, and he shot out of there like a bat out of hell. Alex punched in the code and entered Spencer’s cell. “Hey sis,” Alex grinned. “Did ya miss me?” She gestured to the suitcase. “I’ve brought you a change of clothes. Reckon you don’t wanna be in that for another day.”

“Thank you,” Spencer whispered, oddly touched by the sweet gesture. “That was really sweet of you.” “I’ve brought ya a pillow and bathroom stuff,” Alex sat down in her chair next to Spencer’s cot. “Thought I’d make ya a bit more comfortable.” “Did you bring me anything?” Ezra asked from his own cell. “No,” Alex scoffed. “You brought Spencer clothes and everything else she might need, but you couldn’t be bothered to at least get me a fresh change of clothes?” Ezra stared at Alex in disbelief. “Are you really that much of a bi ––” “Ezra!” Spencer snapped. “God, I’m sick and tired of your constant whining. You’re acting like a three-year-old.” “Oi, Spence. Now don’t go ‘round insulting three-year-olds like that,” Alex said. Spencer’s lips twitched up into a smirk. “I am NOT acting like a child!” Ezra shouted, nearly pouting. “Alex, this is ridiculous. Stop this right now. Let us out and I will consider not pressing charges against you for aggravated kidnapping.” Alex set the suitcase down and smiled. It was a smile that made Spencer nervous and uneasy. Not for Ezra’s sake, but for Alex’s. Even though she and her sister were tall, she didn’t know how much Alex weighed. Ezra had a good one hundred pounds or so on the both of them. “You know what?” Ezra glared at Alex’s back. “I’m not surprised you were given up what was it, twice? If I were your father, I’d give you up, too!”

Both girls gasped and Alex whipped around and started toward Ezra’s cell. "YOU SON OF A —” “Al,” Spencer reached out and tugged Alex back by her wrist. “Leave it. He’s not worth it.” Alex turned to Spencer fast she was surprised she didn’t pop a muscle. “Did…did you just call me ‘Al’?” she asked. Spencer shrugged. “It’s a nickname. My friends call me Spence, as have you, so —” “I like it,” Alex said, shooting her sister a small grin. For the first time it was a warm, genuine smile. A smile, in which, Spencer saw no deceit or malicious intent. So she smiled back. “I thought you might.” Alex glared at Ezra, flipped him the middle finger and sat down next to Spencer on her bed. She started to say something, but stopped and glanced around. “Wait…” Alex said slowly. “What?” Spencer asked. “Toby didn't…that son of a bitch!” Alex sighed. Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Toby didn't…what?” Alex got up, crossed the room over to the wall facing Spencer’s bed, and opened a hidden compartment in the wall, where a button was revealed. She hit it.

The wall at the end of Spencer’s bed slid open to reveal a shiny, moderately sized bathroom, and Spencer leapt to her feet. “There ya go,” Alex smirked. “There’s a bathroom in here?!” Spencer shrieked. “Yep.” “With…with indoor plumbing?” “And a shower,” Alex shrugged. “Merlin, Spencer, I’m not that heartless.” She walked over to her sister and waved her hand in the direction of Spencer’s suitcase. “You’ll find all yer bathroom needs in there, too.” “Jesus, Alex,” Spencer managed, after the small shock had worn off. "How the hell did you manage all this?” Alex bent down, pulled out a key from her shoe and unlocked Spencer’s chain. It fell to the floor with a clank.“You can have an hour to shower and freshen up,” Alex nodded. “But you have to go back in the chain after.”

Spencer nodded. She was so revealed she grabbed her suitcase and hurried into the bathroom. God, it was glamorous. It was shiny and clean, with a decent sized tub. 

She unzipped her suitcase, delighted to find not only clothes, but pillows, blankets and shampoo. She pulled out a change of clothes, and everything she’d need for her shower. “Thank you, Alex,” Spencer called out, changing out of her clothes. She turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature to HOT, and stepped under the stream.

“Why do you have this?” Mona asked, eyeing Hanna’s computer warily. The two were cuddled together on Hanna’s – er, Lucas’ – couch, in front of Hanna’s laptop.

“It’s fun,” Hanna shrugged, scrolling through her Dashboard.

“How long have you had this?” Mona asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Uh, just a few days. But look at how many followers we have!" Hanna pointed excitedly at her screen.

"I can’t believe you have a Tumblr.” Mona shook her head. 

Hanna had created a Tumblr account for the six of them – herself, Spencer, Emily, Aria, Alison, and Mona. The blog had a pink and black background with girly, spiral-like white font. The blogged was called 

The Liars 6, and Hanna blogged about their lives, though nothing she knew the others wouldn’t mind sharing. Not that she had asked them, but whatever. They already had a substantial amount of followers, which wasn’t a surprise. Everyone knew who they were; you didn’t have to live in Rosewood to know about the Pretty Little Liars, the name some cliquey magazine had once dubbed them. 

So far, Hanna had posted about their week: Ezra standing Aria up, the sleepover they had, the games they’d played, and of course, what she and Mona had done.

Mona didn’t particularly care that Hanna had told the entire Internet that they’d slept together, but a heads up would have been nice.

“You have some messages,” Mona pointed to the red number above the envelope symbol in the middle of a row of icons in the upper right-hand corner. “Oh!” Hanna slid her cursor over and clicked on it. Immediately a string of messages in gray boxes popped up. She licked her lips and read the first one she saw.

“Hanna, who tops? Mona, right? – D.A.”

Hanna frowned. "What the hell kind of message is this? Who the fuck is D.A.? Is that A.D. backwards?” Panic shot through her, but she calmed down instantly when she felt Mona’s hand on her shoulder

“It’s probably one of your followers,” Mona said gently. “Reply to them and ask them what it stands for.” Hanna scrolled down to another question sent in by an anonymous user. 

“Spencer, can you help me with my paper on metaphysics philosophy’ – P.A.?" 

What the hell is that? Metaphysics philosophy? That sounds gross.”

“Ha!” Mona snickered and pointed to another message someone had sent in. “Look at this one. Aria, I feel like you’d be a weird flapper girl or a candy striper from the '20s? Am I right? – Ea2 Hanna giggled. "These people are funny. Hey, look! Someone likes Spence and Aria together,” she said, pointing to a message someone sent in that just read:

“TEAM SPARIAAAAA. SPENCER AND ARIA BELONG TOGETHER.”

“It’s weird that people ship them together,” Hanna’s nose wrinkled. “People ship us together, too,” Mona reminded Hanna, pointing out the message sent by the user who had simply gone by ’D.A.’ “Should I answer them?” Hanna asked, more to herself than to Mona. “Hell yeah!” Mona grinned and grabbed Hanna’s laptop. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed a response: Hey, hey, D.A.! Mona here. Great question. I top, obviously. What, did you really think Hanna would? – M.V. She hit POST before Hanna could stop her.

“Mona!” Hanna gasped.

Mona stuck out her tongue and turned back to the screen. She clicked on another question.

Mona again. Sorry. P.A., Spencer didn’t read this. I can help if you’re interested. Let me know! ☺ - M.V. Mona posted the answered question and scrolled through a few other ones. She smiled and nudged Hanna, who had turned her attention to her phone. “Hey, Han?” “What?” Hanna glanced up from her phone. “Look.” Mona pointed to a message. Hanna leaned over so she could read it. Someone had said: “I think you and Mona are really cute together!” Hanna mirrored Mona’s smile. “Well. They aren’t wrong. Hey, should we answer more of these?” “Yeah!” Mona smirked. “This could be fun.”

“Get off me!” “No!” “Alex!” “Spencer!” “You’re not being fair!” “All’s fair in love and war,” Alex teased. Spencer shoved her shoulder into Alex’s, momentarily causing Alex to drop her controller. “Ha!” she smirked triumphantly. 

After her shower, Spencer had come out to see that Alex had remade her bed with fresh bedding, and had even added a soft mattress topper while she was in the shower. Alex had also dragged in a larger desk, which housed flat-screen TV and a PlayStation 4 game console. The two had been playing Mortal Kombat for almost an hour now.

“You cheated!” Alex exclaimed. “Not fair. Rematch?” “You were jumping on my guy!” Spencer protested. Across Spencer’s cell, Ezra made a loud, obnoxious humming sound to her the girls’ attention. Both girls looked up.

“Uh, can I play?” Ezra asked hopefully. He was bored out of his mind. “Piss off,” Alex and Spencer snapped in unison. The twins giggled at each other and Alex playfully bumped her sister’s shoulder. “Okay, round two. Allow me to kick your arse.”