#pretend this icon has gold eyes

[sylviareviar]

"You're...not what I expected..." [ :3c ]

"Welcome to the Church of Despair."

Standing before the woman in the black mask was an angelic figure, draped in tattered black robes and covered head to toe in grime and filth. Beneath the robes were a mess of bandages, stained red with her blood, aglow in the light cast by the stained glass windows on all sides of the chapel. Her wings and hair were easily the most radiant and visible parts of her, as they were the most beautiful and valuable things she had to offer. The angel stood barefoot on broken glass shards and colorful pebbles littering the ground, her blood soaking the carpet.

Her face was not unmarred, either. Where one would normally see sweet, soft freckles, instead were small, thin scars peeking out from underneath a massive bandage covering one of her eyes. The other, a signature gold like all other Shadows possessed, stared blankly at her guest, unblinking and eerie, almost ghost-like.

The angel bowed, spreading her wings to show them off, but as the feathers moved, a hint of blood seeped out from somewhere within. Yet the pink-haired Shadow didn't seem to notice, and merely stood straight once more.

"Were... you not expecting me? Why else would you have come to this church if not to find me?"

[chimielie]

i swear that i will hate you 'till forever

summary: Yaku x F!Reader. sometimes divorce is what you really need to strengthen a marriage

word count: 1.2k

cw: angst, alcohol, pr marriage gone extremely wrong, yaku is older by six years, reader is a socialite with no life skills or healthy coping mechanisms, yaku also has no healthy coping mechanisms, no one in this story is doing well, The Judgment of God Himself, also blasphemy

a/n: heeey long time no see. i actually genuinely don't know when i wrote this, i'm just emptying my drafts of all the half-written fics i have locked in jail. i do still like this concept a lot so shoot me an ask if you want to know more about what i had planned for the full thing :)

Morisuke hates weddings.

He stares up at God, who is trapped in a little circle in a bigger circle, surrounded by gorgeous, centuries-old paintings of angels and saints and little red devils. Everything is gold, the flickering light of hanging chandeliers shining down to gild a rapt audience, even as the real people seem to pale in comparison to their artistically rendered counterparts. Standing here, surrounded by ornate displays of divinity, Morisuke has never felt so wealthy in spirit and physicality. He wasn’t raised in this religion, nor was he ever baptized into it as an adult, but he doesn’t find a seed of objection in himself he’d though he would. The icon he thinks is God looks both mournful and benevolent. All the shining things make Morisuke feel as though he’s looking into a mirror.

The people rustle, whispering among themselves. A stray string instrument sounds, alone and twanging into a silence far greater than itself, and Morisuke almost misses it when the orchestra starts up moments later. He has a headache, the kind that gets worse because he’s so irritated that he has one at all.

He looks down and away from God, straight into the blinding flash of a camera. His only reaction is a slight narrowing of the eyes, the closest he’s come to flinching in years. When the spots clear from his vision, you’re there, an angel from the fresco come to life, a goddess in the church.

Morisuke folds his hands. It feels only right to pray, the way he’s seen it on television, the way some of his teammates do before matches. You stare at him as you walk down the aisle, light playing over your dress in shining bursts that make his head throb harder. He can’t find any bridal tears in your eyes.

He shifts in his dress shoes, fights not to run his hands through his carefully-styled hair. The air-conditioning is too strong, meant to keep a thousand pressed-together people from overheating, or perhaps it’s the winter air leaking in through the great doors. You reach the stairs to the altar, wobbling a little on your first step up, though the movement is so minuscule anyone but him wouldn’t have noticed. Without thinking, Morisuke reaches a hand out to steady you. Your fingers press hard into the flesh of his palm, gripping him bruisingly tight. He can barely pull his hand away fast enough. The music stops, and Morisuke takes in a deep breath, while your chest doesn’t move to inhale or exhale. This is the last moment before you are knotted together irrevocably for life. A groom who hates weddings for a bride who doesn’t cry.

one year, eight months later

If you tilt your head up and almost close your eyes so that you’re looking through your lashes, you can pretend that you’re floating among the stars. You do so, walking backwards, tipping champagne down your throat as you go, trying to envision yourself as a constellation. You’re pretty sure you are one—Morisuke’s gift to you on your birthday, the first one after you’d married. The tabloids had eaten it up. You, watching him board a plane through the social media stories of your so-called friends, hadn’t felt quite as romanced as your picture in the news claimed.

You had forgotten about the constellation. Perhaps it had stuck in your subconscious, though; it was awfully romantic. Perhaps that’s why you had chosen the planetarium as a venue for tonight, though in the light of day it had been the midnight blue velvet and shadowy, domed ceilings that had cinched it for you. But you throw a lot of parties, and you don’t need any more sentiment in your life than what you’re currently suffocating under. You’ll come back on your own, you decide, finishing off your glass and plucking another from the nearest hand to you. You like being lost amongst your guests, freewheeling in space even without oxygen to breathe.

You stumble as you continue your backwards, meandering path through the party. You kick off your shoes, lab-grown crystals chipping off as they bounce. You don’t notice. You’ll buy more. You could buy the whole stupid world, with your husband’s money that he throws at you so he doesn’t have to come home and face you. Your husband who leaves you alone to do whatever you please. Alone, dancing among the stars.

Morisuke was twenty-eight when he proposed to you; you had just turned twenty-two when you said yes. You had been officially seeing each other for three months and acquaintances for nearly a year prior.

The story of your first meeting the interviewers knew was one you and your husband had told many times. A mutual friend had introduced you at a high-profile event and said, blatantly, that the two of you should “make babies.” Morisuke was smooth; you were flirtatious. The story played out like a romantic comedy, ending in a fairytale wedding.

You and he had kept the real story for yourselves, to take out and admire in times of trouble, to tuck away in your pocket like a note between secret lovers.

You were running through a rose-garden maze, eyes over your shoulder, hands fisted in your skirts. He had been walking a perpendicular path to yours (looking for someone else, another lover, you’d later learn) when you had tripped right over him, tumbling head over heels through the flora and into a new sector. Your breath knocked out of you, it was all you could do to stare up at the sky and try to laugh.

“Miss?” He’d called, ducking through the opening, pushing stray rose canes away. “Miss! Are you alright?”

He sounded so formal. You accepted his hand up, but only pulled yourself into a sitting position, trying desperately to catch your breath. He was so handsome, it was making things much harder. Inconsiderate of him, you thought

“I’m fine,” you managed, eventually. “Are you?”

“No more bruised than usual,” he’d returned, teasing. You cocked a brow. “I’m an athlete. I dive face-first onto hardwood floors all day."

For reasons you couldn’t recognize, you’d taken his hand, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt. His forearm toward the elbow had a nasty bruise, as he had said. You ran a careful finger over the discoloration, and he hissed.

“How was my form?”

“Awful,” he said frankly. “But—“ He’d seemed to get lost there, watching the way the sunlight filtered through the clouds and played across your features. With all the raw honesty of someone saying something they hadn’t even known they were thinking, he opened his mouth and said: “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

On a slight breeze, the petals you’d knocked off drifted around the two of you, catching on his shirt, in your hair. They pooled between you, and when you ducked your head down they were all you could see.

You fell in love during that first meeting.

He never fell in love with you at all.

[bleue-flora]

Was gonna do everyone, but I'm feeling lazy so here's what I got so far for the playdate au character details:

Name - Make Believe Name(s) - Age - Favorite Color - Physical Appearance - Other

Phil - Philza, Dadza - 16 - dark green - greenish blue eyes, gingerish blond hair - when he decides to go outside and play with the kids he tends to wear a silly looking striped hat (mostly though he tends to stay inside and text his girlfriend, Kristen)

Wilbur - WilburSoot (or also Ghostbur, Revivebur) - 13 - Blue - pretty fit and tan (because he’s on the school’s swim team), tall and lanky, brown hair and eyes - almost always wears his colonial style hat and when it’s cold enough his favorite yellow sweater

Sam - Awesamdude, Sam, Sam-nook, The Warden - 12 - green - naturally light brown hair he dyed green, brown eyes - has glasses, wears yellow tee-shirt and green cargo pants that he fills the pockets of with all kinds of handy tools and things, including rocks that he loves to collect, has a fake ruby necklace he loves to wear as well as his crown

Clay - Dream - 11 - lime green - green eyes, dirty blond hair - as he’s autistic he wears comfy clothes only like gym shorts and soft tee-shirts for example and hoodies when it’s cold enough (he will not be caught dead in jeans), used a paper plate with a smile on it to jump scare Tommy once and now it’s his Dream aesthetic

Luke - Punz - 11 - blue - bright blond hair and blue eyes - has a gold necklace he never takes off, his ears are pierced with some gold studs,, his favorite outfit is his ripped black jean shorts and white tee-shirt

Alex - Quackity - 10 - Red - dark brown eyes and black hair, kinda more short stubby - him and his family are mexican, tends to wear classic dark blue and black and doesn’t mind getting dressed up for the occasion, always wears a beanie though, carries a pack of candy cigarettes he pretends to light with a lighter he found, tends to carry a deck of cards and his dad’s old pocket knife, knows a little more than a kid should, has a little scar over his lip from falling face first that Techno turned into a whole lore point

Alexander - Technoblade - 9 - red - blue eyes and dirty blond hair though he tried to dye it an edge red to be cool and it turned out pink instead - he loves to wear his red cape and crown all the time, someone once called him a pig because of his pink hair and after that he added pig ears and nose to his Technoblade look, he also often is seen riding his stick horse steed named Carl, he has glasses that George often steals

Mark - Ranboo - 8 - purple - brown hair, green eyes and super tall and lanky - entire wardrobe is black with lots or variations of black and white, often see with sunglasses and face mask on to be mysterious and of course his crown

Nick - Sapnap - 7 - Orange - brown eyes and unkempt hair that’s just long enough to be annoying that he keeps out of his eyes with his white ninja headband - favorite outfit is black athletic shorts or pants with a flame themed shirt, when it’s cold he’ll wear the same shirts just with a long sleeve black shirt underneath, often carriers around a katana and pretends to be a stealthy ninja

Karl - Karl Jacobs - 7 - purple - light brown hair and blue eyes - when it’s cold he loves to wear his iconic hoodie, he wears lots of fun colors and patterns like the stereotypical stylish gay guy, he has a old stopwatch he likes to carry around

Thomas - Tommy, Tommyinnit - 6 - red - blond hair, blue eyes, tall (for his age) and lanky - likes to wear khaki and that two toned classic tee-shirt, often see with red bandana around his next like some western outlaw and appropriate red devil horns

Toby - Tubbo - 6 - green - bright blond hair and blue eyes - Niki gave him bumble bee barrettes he wears to keep his bangs out of his eyes, he’s very attached to his stuffed pig, can be found wearing cuffed jean shorts or sometimes overalls

George - Gogi - 5 - light blue -  brown eyes and messy hair - always carries around his mushroom patterned blanky, likes wearing his favorite iconic blue shirt and jeans

Current families developed in age order:

Dream, Techno, Sapnap, George

Phil, Wilbur (and surely Fundy needs to be the youngest)

Purpled, Quackity, Slimecicle

Punz, Vikk and Lazar (4 year old twins)

(Ya know based off appearances alone maybe Tubbo and Tommy should be twins?…)

 Others TBD...

[s-b-party]

Ena, HooH, and Xipe: Overseers of Balance

****Honkai star rail/Penacony including 2.1 spoilers ahead****

With 2.2 livestream today [I didn’t watch the livestream on the day it came out so this was written without knowing what was coming out soon but also….THE NEW BOSS????], I wanted to take a closer look at 3 Aeons in particular for this thread bc of the similarities between their concepts & also to look at possible roles/connections in the story of Penacony in particular

Since I normally analyze pairs of Aeons & this time we have 3, I’ll briefly introduce the 3 then I’ll talk about them in detail while trying to connect them to each other & the story

First is Ena, the Aeon of Order; they were absorbed by Xipe during the Swarm Disaster; they had a faction that followed them called the Beyond the Sky Choir which eventually stopped when they were absorbed

The second is HooH, the Aeon of Equilibrium; currently they are alive, their faction is the Arbitrators

The third is Xipe, the Aeon of Harmony; they are currently alive & their faction is the Family in Penacony

From Ena’s entry, we see they have a human-looking face or mask with an inner body that seems to encompass space & stars, giving off mostly blue & purple colors while their face, limbs, accessories, and veil have a white & gold palette; their arms have strings coming out from them which presents them like a puppet; another feature to note is the eye that appears besides them which has a gold outline and a blue and purple iris

Their symbol is represented by the icon of an eye, referring to the open eye that is present behind them in their art, with abstract shapes behind it; at first glance the symbol might not mean much when we look at it & it might look simple bc it’s just an eye but I feel that there may be more to it

The 3 circles & 3 sharp points are arranged in a way that doesn’t look randomized where if we were to divide it in half vertically, it would be balanced

Why does this matter? Mainly bc Ena is the Aeon of Order but what exactly does that concept mean? Order can be defined in a few different ways depending on context but in this case, Ena’s concept is related to the idea that things are arranged or done in a particular way, method, sequence, etc. of which we see an example in the dev log as explained by Herta

She states that she doesn’t like Ena’s personality as a “control freak” but rather their concept or at least how the universe followed the Order

In the case of planets & civilizations, under the Order they would first prosper for a time before coming to an end; this would be the cycle that was followed consistently as it is natural for civilizations to rise and fall

Going back to the abstract shapes, I want to bring up the Rule of Three, which applies to many situations but the general rule involves three things that make something effective, satisfying, ideal, etc. As we saw, the icon had three circles & three pointed ends but they were arranged specifically to make the whole symbol not very chaotic, thus it can be satisfying to look at

Interestingly we see 3 being involved in their faction, the Beyond the Sky Choir: the dev log which mentioned a “three-dimensional framework” & the curio called the Triangular Drum-roll Device

HooH the Equilibrium has a face w/ a body consisting mostly of geometric shapes, giving them a sort of blocky appearance; their body swirls & twists in a round circle which converges towards the center where we see two orbs(?) that are blue & orange while their two hands are clasped together in the center

When we look at their overall design, we can tell that they exhibit some form of balance; their name is exactly symmetrical since it can be split into Ho & oH; when it comes to their physical design, they have what we could consider, for simplicity’s sake, both “positive” & “negative”

Let’s pretend that positive is represented by the white tiles & negative is represented by black tiles, you can reverse the situation & it’ll still apply: the positive & negative tiles balance each other bc there is enough of both positive & negative that they would cancel each other out, creating a sense of balance

The symbol of HooH is well represented by a balance scale, often used for measuring & comparing the weights of objects to see if one is lighter, heavier, or equal in weight to another

Equilibrium as a concept refers to the idea that two opposing things cancel/balance each other out, creating something called “sum zero”; the implication of equilibrium is that things in life are divided by two as opposed to any other number

Herta talks about HooH in a dev log regarding how long they’ve been around compared to other aeons while also pointing out how they focus on duality

Now we have Xipe the Harmony who has a human-like body w/ 3 faces on a single head, long hair, purple skin, a dress that encompasses space, a ring of rainbow colors behind their head, and puzzle pieces floating around their form

Their symbol is quite abstract when we look at it as a whole

It is similar to Ena’s symbol where we had those abstract shapes in the background which came out to be 3 circles & 3 sharp points; here is a similar situation where the shapes are repeated 3 times in a circular fashion (it reminds me of the mitsudomoe, it’s the symbol that has 3 tomoe going around the central point of focus)

As of this point I’m not sure if the shapes themselves actually refer to/mean something specific to Xipe but I think something to point out is that the “commas” act differently based on whether they’re in the forefront or the background

The ones in the front don’t seem to interfere with any of the outer shapes on the same layer as them; however when we look at the background, the commas seem to cross into the other shapes next to them

Now what exactly is Harmony? The concept itself is when everything comes together in a single thing to create something unique or something that is typically good; for example we use harmony in music to refer to when notes or instruments are played together to create a coherent/cohesive song but we can also use harmony to refer to other things like life; in other words, harmony is a synonym for unity

Next we’re going to look at connections to each other & to the story; these 3 Aeons have varying degrees of involvement in the story as well as with each other; HooH seems to have very little connection to the other two so there isn’t rlly much I can say about them for the time being aside from their supposed involvement in the Swarm Disaster & the end of Tayzzyronth which we find in the simulated universe

However Ena & Xipe are much more connected both to each other & to the story when compared to HooH

Ena & Xipe are quite similar which makes sense considering that their concepts were fairly similar which ended up with the former getting absorbed (to clarify on their concepts, Order is the specific way to arrange or place things while Harmony focuses on fusing or combining things to bring about peace or good)

In terms of design, I would argue that they share similar color palettes, mainly cool colors (purple, blue) w/ a side of warmer colors on other features (Ena’s accessories & veil, Xipe’s halo)

Another similarity that I can see is their connection to music

Both Aeons received praise through songs through their respective factions, Beyond the Sky Choir & the Family; now that I think about it, perhaps the “commas” in Xipe’s symbol are actually supposed to be music notes in the world of HSR? I wouldn’t be surprised if they write music notes differently from what we would expect

Now in terms of their connections to the story I’ve heard theories of Ena being possibly connected to Gaiathra Triclops, the Mother Goddess that is mentioned in the most recent Trailblaze quest (****the next part about Gaiathra Triclops is mostly just me entertaining some ideas & pointing things out that I want to note, take w/ a grain of salt); I don’t think they are the same bc there are a few discrepancies that can be pointed out but maybe Gaiathra Triclops is an aspect of Ena that physically manifested

It is explained that Avgins do not follow the Aeon belief system but we also don’t know the exact origins of the Mother Goddess so what if she came from an Aeon? Aeons are the origin of concepts so it doesn’t seem far fetched to suggest that “minor”/sub-gods(?) could possibly come from them

We know that even if an Aeon dies, sometimes they leave behind remnants of themselves that still exist in the current time (e.g. Tayzzyronth & Swarm Disaster) so I don’t think it’s impossible for a similar situation here

We hear that Gaiathra Triclops is depicted as a left palm w/ 3 eyes & Ena does have 3 eyes in total if we count the one in the background; interestingly she is described specifically to be often depicted as a LEFT palm so are there any other manifestations of Ena possibly depicted as a right palm or just another body part in general?

Speaking of eyes, many have pointed out that the eye in the background has a striking resemblance to Aventurine’s eyes

The irises & pupils don’t look the exact same but it feels more of a design choice bc Aventurine’s eye shapes help to establish a sense of mystery/suspicion when it comes to his character; other than that the purple/neon pink outer ring & inner blue ring do match

If the Mother Goddess inherited the same eye from Ena, it could possibly explain how the Aventurine got the same eye despite Ena having been gone before the Sigonian incidents; I know the timeline of events are a bit cloudy so it’s not all clear but it just seems way more than a coincidence to me that Aventurine has the same eye colors as the one that appears besides Ena but I’ll leave my musings there

Now Xipe is the one who has a much more prominent presence in Penacony’s story compared to the other two Aeons

Even before entering the world we are made aware of Xipe’s ties to Penacony & its history; Penacony used to be a desert planet that acted as a prison which was owned by the IPC; the IPC eventually lost control of it due to Nanook & the residents of Penacony became members of the Family under Xipe

In terms of the Trailblaze Mission itself, we never see Xipe in person but we do see two notable instances of (extensions of) Xipe’s powers in the story: first is when we enter the Dreamscape & Robin helps us get accustomed to the new environment through tuning; second time is when Sunday invokes their power on Aventurine during the interrogation

In both cases we get the rainbow aura reminiscent of Xipe’s halo around our screens, for the MC we seem to have less of a problem whereas Aventurine suffers the entire time he’s under the influence; this reminds me of our clockwork ability which is essentially direct emotional manipulation (Clockie is most definitely sus, no question about it)

To me this change in how the extensions of Xipe’s power can go from harmless to dangerous is representative of Penacony’s storyline; it looks like a normal peaceful resort at first glance but then we learn about the darker aspect of the Dreamscape aka the memes that have appeared & untold dangers

To end this off, I do want to reiterate how Ena, HooH, and Xipe are interesting representations of different aspects of balance if you could tell based off my title for this thread; my main reason why I bring this up is bc Nanook is presented or framed as the main antagonist of this game bc of their nature as the Aeon of Destruction and the intention/goal is to stop them supposedly…

Therefore I am curious of whether we will see Xipe, HooH, and just the other Aeons in general play a bigger role in this plot of somehow stopping Nanook or if they’ll leave them be bc that is simply their nature; they are all beings who follow their own concepts & ideals so they do what they feel is right based off of their own values

If we are to consider what is balance in this universe, destruction would be the opposite of preservation which is represented by Qlipoth but we also can consider Yaoshi to be their opposite since they help grow life wherever they go

We also were somewhat expecting the Annihilation Gang to make an appearance during the story but we learned that they disbanded after Ifrit was killed by Acheron; does this mean that we won’t really see them again? We also know that Nanook doesn’t really like how the Annihilation Gang operates bc they see their sadistic desire to destroy as “impure” so it seems almost like we’re left hanging when it comes to them

I know that we are still in the Penacony arc so this might not be addressed at the moment but I’m still interested in seeing how the overall plot involving Nanook will play out 👀

[softonshanks]

1. Your url is so good im jealous, 2. Me and my bother have had this inside joke for the longest that if the straw hats ever had a ships cat for rat catching knowing oda it would probably be ugly instead of cute and too lazy to catch rats so uh, if you have time, could you do some hcs about the straw hats having a terrible, incompetent cat?

Ciaooo and thank you so much <3 I'm glad you like my url. You've an amazing icon btw, long live Fitzgerald.

(ran into this post while writing it and this draw stuck with me lol)

Appearance: The cat is a black cat with a small patch of white fur on its chest, vaguely reminiscent of a Jolly Roger if you watch it from afar. His eyes are a striking gold, and he has a permanently disinterested expression on his face. He wears a tiny, straw hat on a string around his neck, a miniature version of Luffy's iconic hat, gifted by Usopp.

Personality: The cat is the epitome of laziness. He spends most of his time lounging in the sun on the Thousand Sunny, draped over Zoro's swords, curled up in Robin's lap while she reads, or nestled into Chopper’s fur. Despite his apparent lethargy, actually the cat is highly intelligent and observant, often seen watching the crew's antics with half-lidded eyes, as if silently judging them.

Interactions with the Crew:

Luffy: Luffy adores it, frequently trying to play with him. However, the cat often ignores Luffy’s attempts at play, which only makes Luffy more determined to win him over. Sometimes, the cat will humor Luffy by swatting at a string or lightly biting his fingers, but only if he's in the mood.

Zoro: the cat has an unspoken bond with Zoro. They both enjoy napping in the same sunny spots on the ship, and it is often found curled up on Zoro’s chest while he sleeps. The crew jokes that the cat is Zoro’s spirit animal because of their shared love of sleep and that if the cat could drink, he would do it, as it already gives annoyed glances at people passing by when it's not in the mood.

Nami: Nami has a soft spot for the cat, though she tries to pretend she doesn’t. She'll often sneak him little treats from the kitchen and make sure he has a warm blanket on colder nights. It repays her with the occasional nuzzle against her leg, but only when no one is looking.

Usopp: Usopp loves telling the cat exaggerated stories, acting out grand adventures for the cat's supposed amusement. It usually just stares at him with a blank and annoyed expression, but Usopp is convinced that the cat is secretly fascinated.

Sanji: Sanji is the only one who can consistently coax the cat into being active, usually by tempting him with gourmet fish dishes. It will actually get up and follow Sanji around the kitchen if he smells something delicious being prepared, occasionally “helping” by sitting in the middle of whatever Sanji is working on.

Chopper: It is surprisingly gentle with Chopper, often sitting quietly beside him when he’s working in the infirmary. Chopper is convinced that the cat has a calming effect on patients, so he always welcomes the cat's presence.

Robin: of course it spends the most time with Robin. He'll curl up on her lap while she reads, occasionally batting at the pages if he gets bored. Robin enjoys his quiet company and often gives him scratches behind the ears, which it secretly loves.

Franky: Franky tried to build the cat a super high-tech cat bed, but it ignored it in favor of sleeping on top of a random pile of junk. Franky was initially disappointed, but he respects its independence, often chatting with him while he works on the Sunny.

Brook: Brook enjoys playing music for the cat, who will sometimes tap his tail in time with the beat, but only if it's a particularly mellow tune. Brook would like to caress him with his fingertips, but he hasn't have any cause he's dead oh oh oh

Jinbe: Jinbe is indifferent to the cat's laziness but respects the cat's serenity. They share a mutual understanding, often sitting together in silence during quiet moments on the ship.

Bonus:

Despite his lazy nature, the cat has surprisingly sharp reflexes. He has been known to catch flies out of the air with lightning speed or avoid falling objects with grace. In battle, though he rarely participates, he’ll sometimes trip up enemies with a well-timed pounce or swipe, then immediately go back to lounging.

It has an uncanny ability to sense danger before it happens. If Maru suddenly gets up and leaves a spot he’s been lounging in, the crew knows something is up, whether it’s a storm on the horizon or an ambush waiting for them.

[monin1ca]

Tearing at the seams (Chamber x reader)

Word count:1.7k

Warnings: Angst with comfort at the end (because I hate bad endings), suggestive-ish, cursing, mentions of wounds, google translated french

Synopsis: Being Sage's intern was challenging, and it took time to understand how to use your powers in the desired way. Your training has brought you to this stage, where you are tending to the protocol's flirt; Chamber.

Fortunately, he escaped with only one wound in his torso and one shot in his shoulder. Sage already did most of the work and tasked you to apply the antibiotics and change the bandages on Chamber. You had “history” with the gunsmith; back in high school, you developed feeling for the infamous heartthrob Vincent Fabron. Being the naive idiot, you were, you confessed to him on the last day of school. Only for him to be called by his parents to leave ‘right this instant.’ He gives you what you think was a fake smile, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go-” leaving you there- heartbroken and all alone, your beating heart tearing at the seams. 

Being Sage’s intern was a tough job; learning how to use your radiant abilities and use them for how they were intended; was a long journey. Though, now you were fully capable of controlling them. Sage’s clinic was also quite hectic, ranging from minor cuts and bruises to dead people being brought back to life. You could only imagine how stressed Sage was before she took you in, but now? Holy shit.

Some agents were chosen to partake in an infiltration mission to their mirror world; the damage to the agents was considerable. The selected ones were Sage, Omen, Jett, Fade, Sova, Reyna, Chamber, and Viper. Your mentor came home with a few gunshots- not too significant. The rest? It was a different story- Sova broke a few bones of his ribcage, Jett blacked out, Fade got substantial gunshot wounds, Omen’s shadows started leaking out of his armor, Reyna dislocated her ankle, Viper inhaled too much of her mirror’s nasty toxins and who else were you forgetting… Ah, right. The man you were tending to Chamber…

But when you were recruited into the Valorant protocol and saw the French man- You decided to pretend your silly little confession never happened, and he never brought it up. Though lately- you started falling for him again; it was idiotic. All the playful banter and flirting made your heart beat so much faster, the sweet gestures he does for you. You feel delusional because you keep thinking- ‘I dont see him doing this to other people. It makes me feel… special’ You know, you know. But you learned from your mistakes and told yourself never to confess to Chamber.

You snap out of your train of nostalgic memories and knock on the room where Sage said where she left Chamber. “Oh?” The injured man’s muffled voice reverberates through the door, “Monsieur, I’m here to tend to your injuries.” You shouted, hoping it was enough to be heard through the thick door. “Ah, Y/N? Come in; the door is unlocked.” You opened the door to be greeted with a strong scent of cologne; the room was intricately decorated with white and gold. You shuffled awkwardly into the room; you looked around the room, seeing the male in his canopy bed. The tops of the bed held a translucent curtain with gold lines coming down on it, and soft duvet sheets crumpled due to Chamber laying down lazily. Everything in this room reminds you of how poor you were compared to him. You strode to the bed and placed your materials on the nearby nightstand; you noticed his iconic glasses and gold watch that probably costs millions. Vincent wasn’t wearing his vest and tie and was only wearing his white button-down. Which told you he was already anticipating your arrival. You sigh deeply to yourself,

‘Let’s get this over with before I combust.’

“Alrighty, mister, how are you feeling right now?” You inquire, looking at everything but him. “I was doing ok, but I feel better now that you are here.” The latter winks, and you playfully roll your eyes at him. “May I?” You gesture at his torso, and he smiles. “Please, knock yourself out.” Chamber pats a spot on his left, motioning for you to approach and do your work. You strolled to his side; the bed dipped at your weight when you placed your knee. Your hands slowly made their way to the buttons; you could feel his eyes on you. Even though you felt like prey being watched by its predator, you continued unbuttoning the attire. It felt like eons when you finally reached the last button, your hands dangerously close to his lower half. Once you finished, you quickly pulled your hands away to avoid the awkwardness and pulled them back up higher to remove the first plaster. ‘His torso looked like it was a frame of a greek god. Shit, what am I thinking?’ You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts and focused on removing the plaster as painlessly as possible. It was so adorable how flustered you were on Chamber’s end, The tippy top of your ears with multiple shades of red, and how you avoided eye contact with him. It was just so adorable~ You placed your left hand on his abs to have support and used your right hand to peel the plaster slowly; you heard the french man hiss and groan in pain at the action. ‘God, that sounded so hot.’ “Just a little bit more and- There.” You chirped, relieved that it was partially over. You threw the old bloody plaster in a nearby bin and got the antibiotic; you opened the medicine and squeezed it onto a soft cotton pad. “I’ll apply this special antibiotic that should sanitize, clean, and remove the scar of your wound. It might hurt, but you're a big boy, right?” You explained to him; he chuckles at the last part of your sentence. “I am a big boy, mon Cheri. Though take it slow, I’m enjoying every aspect of this.” You were stunned, “I- W-what ever… Weirdo.” You lowered your head, hoping your hair was long enough to hide your face. You slowly rub the cotton pad on the gunsmith’s skin and hear the knee-wobbling hiss again, this time caused by the shock of the cold medicine colliding against his skin. At last, you were finished; you threw the used pad and grabbed the fresh new bandages. 

“Can you sit up a ‘Lil bit? I need a little allowance to wrap this around your body.” The male complies obediently, sitting up from his pillow and waiting for your move. You go closer and start wrapping the bandages around his body, your hot breath against his chest. His breath hitches as you slowly begin your little ministrations, as you were wrapping the bandages around- You notice that he has had previous injuries before this, the faint, faint scars proving it; sure, it was normal, but you never saw him get hurt before going into the protocol.  You were so lost in your train of thought Chamber had to point out you were adding too much fabric. “Were you enjoying the view that much, Cheri?” You were not going to lie to yourself, and you were enjoying the view. “Yeah, I was.” Now it was his turn to blush; he was silent after that one. ‘As you should, Mr. Heartthrob’ You chuckled to yourself, and you moved closer to him; Placing your hand and legs over him for stability, you almost looked like you were straddling Chamber if people walked in and saw the scene. “I’m going to treat your shot in the shoulder; I’ll go a bit closer, yeah?” He gives a slight nod, his accentuated cheeks still dusted in pink. You leaned closer and slowly removed the old plaster; the slight sounds of the plaster ripping off his skin made you shudder. You can only imagine how much he went through in his past injuries; Chamber notices the sadness on your face. “What’s wrong, mon ange?”  His hand reaches your face, gentle hands caressing your cheeks. You leaned into his touch, clutching the used plaster in your hands. “I.. Just- can’t imagine what you went through before joining the protocol..” You brushed the faint scars on his body; his body hitched at your touch. You feel like the air is being sucked out due to the heavy tension between you, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Silence… 

Suddenly, Chamber drops his hands lower, grabs your waist, and pulls you closer. “You are too good for me.” You yelp at the sudden action, and his slightly dry lips meet yours. You felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest, perhaps when his lips touched yours, time stood still, but the beating in your chest only grew stronger. As your knees grew weak, you fell forward to his embrace; you could only concentrate on how smooth he was against your mouth and how completely he had taken over your senses. Chamber clouded your thoughts; all you could think of was Chamber. You moan slightly on his lips, signaling to pull away. He understood and pulled away; your head was spinning not from the lack of air but from why this was happening. You had millions of questions, but you could only muster “Why?” He laughs, “Well, the simplest explanation is; I like you too. And this tension? I could not stand it.” You wanted to pinch yourself to see if this was all real, but the loving look on his face told you this was all too real. “B-but my confession from all those years ago-” “My parents sent me home because,”  he cut you off. “I was drafted into the military; they wanted to send me far away. They’ve always thought I was incompetent and needed a so-called boost.” The truth behind his scars and why he left you behind the school amazed you. All these questions finally had answers; your eyes were filled with tears. “Ah, mon amour, don’t waste your pretty tears on me.” He says as he wipes your stray tears, “You still have to finish patching me up after all,” The male chuckles; you can’t hold back anymore, your heart tearing at the seams, not because it got broken. Now it is because your love for him is starting to overflow.

Author's note - THIS WAS INSPIRED BY ONE OF THE PROMPT THINGY I REBLOGED! HOPE YALL WILL ENJOY THIS ONE^^

[lokis-dark-queen]

A “Horny” Reunion Pt. 1/2

Sub Loki/Fem Reader Smut

Summary: After some time away on Asgard, Loki receives a special request from his lover during their steamy reunion that involves his ceremonial armor and those iconic gold horns.

Warnings/notes: SMUT 18+, kinda inappropriate use of Loki’s horns (they are basically handlebars.) He’s also sub because I say so. This is part one of a two part one-shot.

Word Count: 2,869

Also on AO3

Loki has been in Asgard for almost three weeks now, three weeks without Loki was hell for her. She thought that it would be fun at first, some time without Loki where she could focus on herself and have fun with her girlfriends. And she did for the first couple weeks, while Loki was dealing with “official royal business” in Asgard, she was partying with her friends and staying up late. It wasn't that she couldn’t do all those things with Loki around, he was not controlling at all. She just liked the feeling of being by herself for a while and doing what she wanted. However, time apart makes the heart grow fonder, and at the end of the second week, the lack of Loki’s presence began to weigh heavy on her. She missed his voice, his laugh, and his witty remarks. Her bed felt cold without him, she missed waking up to him in the morning, his hands would wander her body as she was slowly drawn from her slumber. He would place soft kisses on her face and down her neck as she stirred awake in his arms. 

What she missed most, however, was the sex. She loved Loki as a person and she was absolutely in love with him. But gods he could fuck! She became addicted to him after their first night together, she could never sleep with anyone else after that. Eventually he moved in with her after they both grew tired of living at the Avengers’ tower. Sneaking around with him and being bugged by the Avengers constantly was not a good mix. They finally had their privacy, that was until Loki was being called back to Asgard more often. She was happy that Loki was close with his brother again, and that he was able to go see his mother freely. However, his relationship with Odin was still estranged, it wasn’t surprising, Loki still refused to fully forgive him for the way that he treated Loki growing up. She supported Loki and his decisions, but she still missed him dearly.

Now she laid on her bed, one of Loki’s capes was wrapped around her frame as she curled up, staring at the empty spot next to her. Loki's scent was beginning to fade from his side of the bed, as well as the cape. She closed her eyes and pretended that he was there next to her. Her hands ran down the material of the cape, to her stomach, and eventually down her shorts. Getting herself off these past few weeks wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do until Loki came back. 

When she suddenly heard a deep familiar voice, she thought she was hallucinating.

“Oh darling, have you been desperate in my absence?” 

Her eyes flew open as she sat up on the bed, the god of mischief himself stood at the foot of it. She flung herself at him immediately, jumping off the bed and wrapping her arms and legs around his tall frame. 

“Loki! I missed you so much.” Her face was buried in the crook of his neck as a few tears fell from her cheeks, “Part of me thought you would never come back.” 

“Me? Leave you? Darling I would simply cease to exist without you. These past few weeks have been incredibly tiring, they wanted me to stay longer. But I told my mother I had important business to tend to on Midgard.” He smirked, taking a handful of her ass as he held her up. 

She pulled back and looked Loki in the eyes, “Is that my name now? Important business?” She giggled before giving him a brief kiss. The kisses traveled to his flushed cheeks and forehead as she pampered him with love and affection. She ran her hands down his neck to the ceremonial leather and armor that he still wore from his business on Asgard, “It’s been awhile since i've seen you in the full get up. I almost forgot how hot it is.” 

Loki backed up and spun them around so that she was pinned between the wall and his body. His hands wrapped around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up so that he could pull her into a deep, desperate kiss that would make a virgin blush. The scent of leather mixed with Loki’s natural scent of cedar and spice filled her nostrils as he pressed his hips into hers. She gasped into the kiss, running her fingernails down the back of his leather coat. Loki pulled away, causing her to let out a small whine before kissing down his neck.

“I know how much you love my armor darling, however, it is quite difficult to AGH-!” He grunted as she left a small bite mark on his neck, she sucked on his skin with the intention of leaving a nice mark for later. “QUITE! Difficult to maneuver in.”

She pulled back and gave him a smile, “But you seem to walk around in it just fine.” She runs her hands down the golden armor, fingers tracing the small patterns that adorn it. 

“I’m not talking about walking. I mean special… maneuvers.” He hoped she would get the hint. 

She looked at him in confusion for a moment, “So what? You can’t fuck in it?”

Loki normally loved and admired how straightforward she was when she spoke to him. But now, she was leaving him flustered and speechless. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, he saw that her pupils were blown with lust as she smirked, fully aware that she currently had the upper hand. 

“It's not that I can’t, it’s just difficult to move in that way.” He explained.

“Oh, I understand.” She complied, somewhat sarcastically. 

“Good.” He gently placed her back on her feet, “Now let me take all this off and we can-” He was cut off by her guiding him back to the armchair in the corner of the room before she put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him down, his armor clanking as it met the soft material. Loki was immensely stronger than her, of course, but he still let her control him at times. 

“What? Darling you’re not! Ooh~” He gasped as she gripped his hard cock through the leather. 

“C’mon baby, don’t act like you don’t like it when I push you around. You're already so hard for me.” She replaces her hand with her clothed, wet cunt and ground against his leather trousers that concealed him. She could feel her wetness leaking through her thin underwear and shorts, now polishing his leather pants perfectly. “See? Feel.” She grabbed his hand and brought it to her heated center, she guided his fingers into a circling motion on her clit. Loki moaned at her actions, secretly loving the feeling of being used by a beautiful, demanding woman. “This is how you make me feel, I get so turned on when I see you dressed like this.” She moaned, moving her hips in time with his hand, “Good boy, you make me feel so fucking good.” She kissed him, swallowing his moans that she drew from him. 

“Darling, please.” He begged between kisses, “I need you, p-please.”

“I love it when you beg for me, mischief.”

They just couldn’t wait any longer after these long weeks away from each other. While she was tending to her needs on earth, Loki was pleasuring himself on Asgard whenever he had time away from his royal duties. He imagined fucking her in his large bed covered in his favorite green silken sheets, making her scream his name so that all of Asgard knew who she belonged to. But now, he was sitting in their shared room of her New York apartment, the curtains wide open and looking over the lively city beneath them, absolutely at her will. He was ready to do anything for her, and he nearly moaned out loud when she began to undo the laces on his leather trousers. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the armrests of the chair, his eyes were focused on her, taking in every feature on her face and they way that her hands trembled with excitement as she finally undid the final lace and opened his trousers. She quickly abandoned her tee, showing her soft breasts to Loki’s wandering eyes, before reaching down to make a fist around his long cock. She slowly stroked him, he threw his head back in pleasure as she used her thumb to circle the blushed head, a small sheen of pre cum covered her thumb. She brought her thumb up to her mouth to taste him. 

She slipped herself off of his body before untying her sleeping shorts and sliding them down her legs, Loki clenched his jaw in anticipation. She placed herself back on her throne that was Loki’s lap and gave him a deep kiss and ran her hands up his chest to play with the curls at the end of his hair. She leaned back and looked the powerful god beneath her up and down. His angry red cock stood in contrast to his black leather, his chestplate raised up and down with his heavy breathing and his pale cheeks wore a faded flush. 

“Somethings missing.” She stated, running her fingers through his dark locks. 

“What is it, my love?” 

She put her index fingers to her forehead to mimic the look of his signature horns. “Put your horns on.” She demanded. 

“W-why?” He stuttered 

“Because I want to hold on to them while I ride you.”

Her straightforwardness made his cock twitch in need, “Anything for you, my love.” He smiled before a ring of magic, manifesting itself in green glimmers, surrounded his head in a halo before turning into his glistening, golden horns. 

She smiled as she ran her hands up and down the gold that now adorned his head, stroking the horns as if they were his dick. She slid her fingers along the cheek pieces that accentuated his prominent cheekbones. She tilted his head back further so that she could kiss him deeply without colliding with the horns before lifting her hips to press her wet pussy against the head of his cock, the sheen of their combined arousal put a nice shine on the leather that covered his abdomen. She pulled away from the kiss to hold onto his horns before sinking onto him. They both gasped at the feeling of being with each other once again. 

“Oh fuck- I missed you so much Loki.” She moaned before gripping onto his horns tighter and moving her hips in a circling, grinding motion. 

Loki let out a deep growl and held on to her waist as she began to slowly bounce on top of him. His fingers eventually made their way up to her pebbled nipples and began to play with them gently. She arched her back into his touch and whined his name. Loki’s moans became louder as he realized he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer, he was more desperate than he anticipated. He didn’t think he would cum this quickly, and if he was in control he probably wouldn’t, but she was riding him so perfectly right now and he couldn’t stop himself from pushing his hips up, causing his cock to slide inside her perfect cunt even deeper. 

“Darling, w-wait I- I can’t. Slow down.” 

“It’s okay, you can cum.” She allowed, circling her hips once again. 

“FUCK! Fuck~” His hands held on tight to the flesh on her thighs, fingernails leaving shallow marks in her skin as he coated her walls with his cum. Sweat formed underneath the headpiece on his forehead and small tears shone underneath his eyes. 

She gasped, loving the feeling of him filling her up. She knew Loki insisted that she came first whenever they fucked, but seeing him lose control under her was worth it. Besides, she would make sure he made it up to her after he recovered from his powerful orgasm. 

“Are you with me, darling?” She ran her thumbs along his jawline as he relaxed beneath her. 

“Always, my love.” He opened his eyes, looking into her’s with the same amount of love and lust that he had when he caught her touching herself when he arrived back home. “What about you? You didn’t cum.” 

“Aw darling, so considerate.” She lifted herself off his softening cock, Loki’s cum leaking from her pussy, and stood in front of him, “Stand up.” She demanded. He did as he was told before she put her hands on his clothed biceps, turning them around and sitting down where Loki was only seconds ago. She spread her legs for him, giving him a perfectly unobstructed view of his seed leaking out of her cunt. “Get to it then.” 

Loki wasted no time dropping to his knees in front of her and holding on to her thighs, keeping them open so that his horns could fit in between her legs. She reached down and held onto them once again as she felt his warm breath brushing against her wet folds. She pushed her hips into his mouth and pulled his head closer by his golden headpiece. Loki licked up her slit, drinking his own release from her cunt, before circling her clit with his tongue. 

“Fuck~ can you taste yourself, mischief?” She moaned, grasping on tight to his horns.

Loki groaned in approval as she arched her back and pushed her hips closer to his mouth in an attempt to feel more friction from his tongue. His long fingers teased her entrance as his tongue circled her clit. His cum being used as lube as he curled two of his fingers to push against her g spot. She now her head thrown back in pleasure, screaming out his name and digging her fingernails into the soft felt of the chair. Tears of utter pleasure pricked the corners of his eyes as her legs shook on either side of his head, brushing against the chilling gold of his horns that raised gooseflesh on her skin. 

Loki moaned between her legs as if he was getting off from her taste alone. He looked up at her with those gorgeous cerulean eyes that bore into her soul, she could barely keep eye contact with him before her eyes rolled back into her skull. Loki sped up his movements, determined to make her cum just as hard as he did. He smirked against her pussy as her thighs tightened around his head. 

“I’m gonna cum- ah LOKI!” She cried out as her knuckles turned white, holding Loki’s horns in a death grip as her powerful orgasm possessed her body, leaving her quivering in Loki’s arms. Loki continued eating her out as her climax felt nearly endless. Her cunt was swollen in overstimulation as she began to push at his head in an attempt to crawl away from his talented silver tongue. Loki took the hint and stopped his pleasurable assault, slowly kissing her thighs and up to her stomach. He made his way back up her body so that his face was level with hers, giving her a soft kiss before she wrapped her arms around his neck to help her sit up straight and return the kiss. 

“I love you darling, it feels good to be home. May I change into something more comfortable now?” He smirked, placing a kiss on her soft cheek. 

She giggled and stood up with Loki, running her hands around the intricate details of his armor, taking it in before it was gone for the foreseeable future. “I guess you can. I’ll miss it though.” 

“You will see it again darling, I promise” 

Loki used his magic to change into a pair of black lounge pants. Loki looked sexy in whatever he wore, besides now she had access to his exposed torso. She immediately took the opportunity to touch his skin that was slightly flushed and sweaty from their previous activities. She ran her hands through his inky hair, caressing where the proud helmet once sat. 

“I love you mischief, never leave me again.” She pouted, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his back.

He wrapped one arm around her waist as the other cradled the back of her head, running his fingers through her tangled hair and kissing her on the forehead. “Unfortunately, I cannot skip my trips to Asgard. I can, however, bring you with me next time.”

“Sounds perfect.” She looked back up at him, kissing his lips once again before they made their way back to the bed, she ended up back on his lap, peppering his face with kisses once more. 

“Since you got to make demands on what I wore this time, I have a request.” 

“What is it, mischief?” She smiled. 

“I want you to wear the deliciously tight combat suit that you wear on your missions next time.” 

She leaned back and looked at him with an entertained look on her face before giving him a seductive smirk, “Deal.”

[lightwing-s]

the batboys as 2000s pop hits (male vers.)

Did anyone even doubt that Dick *motherfucking* Grayson would choose anything other than SexyBack as his favorite 2000s song? That’s his anthem! His favorite time to listen to it is while dressing up for another one of Bruce’s boring galas because it makes him less annoyed to be going if he can “pretend” to be a rich bachelor (which he actually is!!!). He’ll walk around like Justin Timberlake  does in the music video, dancing with every step, and stopping at  every mirror to “fix” his bow tie, or his hair, or check his butt out. He not only feels the song, he embodies it. So be damn sure he’ll be marking whatever event that is with just his mere presence (as if he doesn’t do it without the song, but anyways). All the ladies, single or not, will be swooning over him, his charm stronger than ever, and that smirk… Jesus Christ have mercy on you. When he stares into your eyes with that damned smirk, you’re done for. “If that's your girl you better watch your back”, says the song, and tonight he’s the most dangerous man in the room. After all, he’s bringing sexy back.

Listen, this part might not be very pg-13 as usual, but Jason listens to Smack That by Akon religiously. And there’s only one word to describe how he feels/looks/acts/exists while and after listening to it: Daddy, with the capital D. It’s the kind of song that will unconsciously (or very consciously) boost his confidence, make him feel the shit, so he loves to listen to it before/during patrol, or when he feels like fighting Bruce that day. He also listened to it before asking you out, it just has a power over him he can’t explain. He’ll listen to it while getting ready or at the gym, and he’ll stare at his chest (and his abs) and just… you know, feel hot! Especially with his newfound love for his scar, after you so much insisted it made him just a tad bit hotter than he already is. He also loves to listen to that before taking you to bed. I’ll end this here.

Tim misses when Maroon 5 actually made good music. This Love is such an iconic moment, but he feels like it was kind of their peak and they never managed to make a song to make him feel greater than that one does. He’s not much of a dancer, but he surprises everybody with how good he is at singing, though. He’ll sing it at  the top of his lungs, especially the high notes by the end of the song. Iit also makes him feel light, like the world can be fairly simple for once and not a dangerous mess, all during those short 3 minutes. #BringBackOldMaroon5 

Coming late into the 2000s music scene just as Damian came in later to the family, Justin Bieber’s world wide hit Baby might have been the only one hit of that decade he remembers listening to on the radio and perhaps even the only singer he recognizes. It’s not a great song, he is not proud of choosing it, but it was it or nothing. His brothers, though, think the song is very fitting for the family baby, and now he regrets his choice and is piling up Justin Bieber merch and burning it in protest (but he has Purpose hidden away because that album is gold).

[wario-speedwagon]

top 5 ai the somnium files characters??

ohoho, well lemme tell ya with great pleasure! :D

(disclaimer, I've only played through the first game, so I will only be including characters from that game and not the sequel)

5. Boss

It's in her name, she gaslights, gatekeeps, girlbosses and looks good doing it! Jokes aside though, I love how she is simultaneously secretly and subtly caring while also just. blunt and unapologetic about overworking her subordinates or unashamed to crack dirty innuendos. She has all sorts of random trinkets and junk all over her office, from boy band posters to christmas trees to party decorations. Shady but with a heart of gold. She's not quite as deep a spoiler angst rabbit hole character as some others, but she's a joy every time she's on screen, ya love to see her <3

4. Hitomi

This is my one underrated underdog pick, but ourgh, loving and supportive single mothers doing their best while keeping their dark tragic backstories private from their kids, my beloved <3 I could delve into detail just how magnificent her backstory is, from the circumstances of her being a mother to her tragic past love life, and how being a stereotypical normal boring sweet schoolteacher mother figure, she's been unfortunately involved in the most dangerous secrets but just trying to live her best life with her daughter despite it. Hitomi my beloved, seemingly simple characters with hidden depth, my beloved

3. Aiba

She is soooo silly and also maybe the only sane person here, or at least sane in the way an AI personality would be. She is Date's AI assistant and also his prosthetic eye, and the right gif is the form she takes when she's outside of his eyesocket. The left gif is her digital avatar form. She's constantly judging Date's thoughts and actions, she gets excited about bugs, she helps Date be a better parent (more on that later), she does Hacker Skillz on a whim, she might be capable of actual love even as an AI! Truly a worthy pfp :3

2. Date

You've heard of Love to Hate, but this guy will force you to learn what Hate to Love means. Cringy horny porn-addict failure of a person, how dare you be an amazing character with a super sad spoiler backstory and amazing angst going on. I need to push him down some stairs right now. He has a fantastic coworker good cop/bad cop dynamic going on with Aiba his eyball assistant (he's mysteriously missing an eye and Aiba is his replacement), and he's a grumpy but genuinely trying temporary guardian for a bratty middle schooler who holds him in contempt and pretends to hate him (i.e. we're talking wet cat & wet cat found family dynamics >:)

1. Mizuki

I love this child. I would do anything for this child. I would do anything to be this child. Snarky ass middle schooler. Human weapon of mass destruction because why not. Had a hard home life with her abusive or neglectful parents and is now a tsundere wet cat found family roommate with Date whom she bullies like a sibling but is still in denial about who her real family are. She carries grenades and such in her backpack even to school and she carries her favorite lead pipe with her everywhere. (spoilers) she has seen both of her parents' dead bodies and in some timelines her best friends' and favorite teacher's as well...

Ough the character depth and growth and angst and silliness of this character, the sheer badassery, her iconic-ness--oh yeah, she canonically says in game says that she respects and is inspired the LGBT community (based). You just can't get more S-tier than Mizuki. Might be favorite character of all time. I'm so excited when I eventually play the sequel because she's the protagonist in it! :D

[fourleafclovxr]

liveblogging fotsge because i just bought it

alternatively: soman please don't disappoint me

i have no recollection of what happened in rotsge. fair warning.

"young lad with dark red curls and a smattering of freckles" oh a school master? i want to think he's a sader & a seer so i can say that my sader meta is supported by soman but this desc reminds me of tristan/yara actually...

did soman forget his own lore. didn't august sader tell rafal that he needed the readers.

hook is actually quite a good character and pissing off BOTH twins! good for him.

these evers are. wow. incredibly in character. they rly do capture the essence of good for the sake of being good? on that note, the commentary on evers being spoiled and bored in this duology has been pretty okay (if a bit. pointless? to be honest these books were pointless)

NAMELESS BOY? rhian love interest?

the idea of pan's world is actually really interesting. a place that doesn't follow good and evil, but rather chaos, which places good and evil as the opposite of chaos— order? and hook says "that's why it's so dangerous" which i guess does make sense from his pov but. i hope this concept gets explored more later

kyma questioning whether they're good is also v interesting! comparing the good pirates to evil pan (their roles are reversed, the pirates usually evil and pan usually good— also kyma seems traditional which explains her traditional fairytale view)

"close-shaven black hair [and] violet eyes" HELLO??? lady lesso??? what is your ancestor (?) doing in neverland (it can't be a coincidence right... knowing soman it could be though) one of pan's lost boys huh?

kyma IMMEDIATELY going against pan as soon as he threatened a fluffy animal. and getting them into trouble.

pan is getting more and more creepy though... especially for a thirteen-year-old?

SADERS WORKING WITH PAN????? guys look my meta was right. the saders being on the side of CHAOS instead of good and evil?? because it'll turn out better for them??

"three children who go exploring an enchanted island" rafal i'm pretty sure that's kind of important for you...

kyma is so. good. and her conversation with the ingertroll is oddly touching. she's like the sensible, good version of evelyn sader and i am HERE for it

i deeply enjoy midas' character. i wonder what the significance of the name is? midas, the greedy king, ruined by his greed? (greed for what?) (also he said gay rights. happy pride!)

i also have to say that soman writes homoeroticism incredibly well and that he should have done this more if he wanted people to think his books had good lgbtq+ rep because they would eat it up

luoto bakthi is really. the villains in this series are a lot more sinister than in the proper sge series and i'm actually kind of impressed?

that was over really quickly! good job kyma!

MALICE ROOM 66???????

"a bug crept into the plot" ie rhian spying idk this is reminding me of agatha in her cockroach form

aladdin is so annoying. please don't call kyma your soulmate you are fifteen years old. kyma is so right stop thinking about yourself!!

SADER LORE... whose side are the brothers on? pretending not to see hook and kyma? exceptions to them aging ten years for pans? THEM TELLING HOOK TO GO TO SCHOOL?

"how much these two paying you?" "not enough." i laughed sorry mistral twins. pay your employees right!

MIDAS HAS GOLD POWERS??? ok maybe the name had a more obvious meaning. should have expected that

hephaestus and the pirate captain are such an iconic duo.

midas saving rafal was the obvious choice to be honest. which brother has been a manipulative lying asshole? not rafal! and his little speech about it being midas' choice was nice.

uniting the schools under pan huh? i see where tlea rafal got the idea from

aladdin ffs STOP being jealous of hook i'm pretty sure he has more love interests (cough. rhian and rafal. cough) than kyma??? and you have more important things to worry about???

rhian is. so evil. i see it now. literal snake

fala is back!!!!

midas has THREE school masters fighting over him. it's pretty easy to forget he's the First ever reader but that says something about him.

"what he'd assumed about himself had guided his actions, and because of his actions, his true nature had irrevocably changed." this is such a clever thing to say actually! the it's not who you are, it's what you do messaging is rly coming through.

the storian guiding pan... writing his story for him... and to HELP him... i could say a lot about destiny but i won't bc it wouldn't be coherent

midas :(

i'm becoming a rafal supporter tbh,,,

rafal & hook reunion! finally!

(can't only men be seers. anyway) sader family showdown!! the elders supporting rafal the boys supporting pan and marialena??

the storian "keeps [their] world alive with its tales"?? how??

RHIAN????????????????????? i mean it makes sense the evil school master but like. But Like. school years trilogy rafal?? what??

the saders having different visions Precisely because the divergence was necessary for the future to become reality. this says a lot about seers. they're not all-powerful nor all-knowing, they're just tools trying to enable the "best" future, the stable one, the one that doesn't result in what. death?

whose side are they on?? their own or this grand unknown destiny's??

midas having nothing but rafal. okay soman. OKAY.

BOTIC REALLY IS A LESSO??????????????????

so pan has the power to change the future? to get the story back?

pan's thoughts on free will vs a good life are actually pretty interesting.

marialena you SNAKE. but also her being evil and her family being good. the interaction between good & evil, and the seers who are seemingly above it. huh. but why would she support rhian... what is her big picture...

midas is being so soft with rafal i really. i'm becoming a midas supporter too i fear

ok rafal is still evil never mind

holy shit rhian just MURDERED a guy. he's plenty evil.

so what happens when both brothers are evil? by nature or by choice?

WHAT IS MARIALENA'S AIM.

midas :(((

how is botic a lesso. man is pathetic

"good always wins" rhian doesn't that go against your ENTIRE philosophy of balance

NOT THE GOLDEN ARROW it is NOT midas' fault.

the rafal -> hook -> kyma relationships. nice.

"his princess" no more aladdin!! yes!!

"when a lost boy serves his purpose, it's time for him to grow up. only there is no growing up in my world." that hits deep tbh.

MIDAS :(((( his lines about how he became more than a boy in gavaldon... how it's not The End... his belief in rafal to his last moments... rafal BETTER make this right

oh my god the gold. seriously. the entire school?

"two brothers, eternal once more" wow. AND WHO WAS THE GUY FROM THE FIRST SCENE. i doubt he's a sader but??

the tale of pan and pen?????

the concept of pans being good and their shadows being evil is v interesting especially when you remember that you kill pan by killing his shadow.

the evil always wins, it always destroys the balance. so the evil has to be eliminated by the storian. and that's why the shadow is the thing that has to be killed. wow.

SO THE MAN WAS A PAN. OKAY.

"a gold-soaked corpse ready to fly" soman rly did write quite a few good quotes in this book

"far from the tyranny of men" midas :( kyma :(

RHIAN JUST MURDERED HIM???? WTF??????? RAFAL???????????

rhian you bastard

how is he the school master

i mean i knew it made sense but. this is incredibly unsatisfying.

oh the pirate captain is blackbeard is he.

do they KNOW it's rhian?

uhh is he calling himself "deviant and perverse" for being. straight. i mean. okay i guess.

[dovelydraws]

Tell me abt your ocs 👁👁👁👁

oh GOD I have so many asldjfljk um!!!

I'll start with my dnd/pathfinder character Revun, since I've been posting about them a lot recently!! I'm no longer concerned about sharing spoilers because I got all my party members to block campaign spoilers hehe 💕

^ Made this little icon of them for discord recently (he/they/she)

The backstory doc i originally handed to my GM was over 5k words long, (plus there's also been several nights of me rambling in their dms expanding on all the stuff I'd Already Written) so I'm gonna try my best to. condense this lmao

Revun's bio parents were both human; their mom made a deal with a daemon while she was pregnant to save her father's life from a severe illness that would have killed him, and as a consequence of that her child was born a tiefling.

The social stigma of having a tiefling child (everyone just immediately knows she made some kind of deal with a fiendish entity) became too much for them to handle, so their mom and grandfather chose to abandon them four years after they were born, and start a new life elsewhere where no one knew them. Revun spent the next seven years in an orphanage, until they ran away to go try and join a mercenary group that passed through town at one point.

Throughout Revun's life, they've been haunted by a spirit in the shape of a black wolf with gold eyes that match their own. It only appears when they are in the middle of having a near death experience- so far, that's been twice. The first was when they were 11, and they nearly froze/starved to death out in the woods after running away. The second was after a disagreement with their boss/somewhat father figure lead to him nearly killing them at 25.

While Revun never learned all the details of their mom's deal, they at least are somewhat aware that whatever she did saved their grandfather's life. They are convinced at this point that whatever happened must have created some sort of imbalance in the afterlife or something, and this wolf was expecting a new soul that day that never came. And now, it's stalking Revun waiting for them to drop dead, to take them as a replacement like some sort of debt collector. I'm unsure if this is actually the case since I decided to leave the details up to my GM, but this is what Revun believes and they are absolutely terrified of it.

Speaking of that mercenary group, they did take them in and save them that night, but it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Revun ended up spending the rest of their childhood in a pretty toxically masculine environment, and with an expectation placed on their shoulders to always follow orders and never try to argue, even if they may be uncomfortable or feel something was a bad idea.

A portion of the mercenary company was hired to act as bodyguards at a prestigious vineyard, of which had recently made some enemies with their business competition. Revun spent about a year and a half there, becoming very close friends with the winemaker's daughter, until the deal fell through and the company was offered more money to destroy the vineyard and kill the family/any workers on the property to make sure there were no witnesses. Revun nearly died getting their best friend to safety and trying to help any workers they could find, fighting against the only family they'd really had the chance to know.

They somehow managed to escape, and were found laying on the side of the road a couple miles away from the vineyard by some passing travelers, who were able to patch them up and drop them off at the next town. They'd been separated from everyone- their entire social safety net was gone, their worldview completely changed overnight. That was a Lot for them to handle, so they kind of just... Didn't.

They've decided to just try to move on, forget everything that happened and everyone that was ever important to them. Start a new life somewhere else. Don't think about it. Pretend it never happened.

All of this has ended up creating a guy with a lot of self loathing, abandonment issues, anxiety and paranoia, and a Very Stubborn "don't worry about it! :)" attitude.

I love them so much. They make me feel like this:

[the-fandom-crossroads]

Nilou = Goddess Hathor

Nilou's character design is heavily based on the Ancient Egyptian Goddess of Love Hathor. Like my previous post about Cyno I'm going to break down the larger references to the Egyptian gods these Genshin characters are based on.

First up Appearance! Nilou's headpiece has Hathor's iconic curved horns. Hathor's horns have been interpreted many ways over the years. Generally shown as a flat piece facing forward on a hat of sorts.

Now Hathor's horns make sense when drawn in hieroglyphics like this. But they make less sense when placed on a 3d subject like the statue above.

Leading to modern artists interpreting hathor's horns in other ways. Mostly one horn on either side of the head instead of a U on top of the head. Hathor is not as well known as Anubis or Ra. Meaning there are only two modern media depictions to pull from. Aaaaand the only one to show her with her horns is the really bad, white washed to hell, movie "Gods of Egypt".

As you can see the headpiece matches Nilou's. Nilou's even has the curved arch connecting the two horns in an attempt to mimic the arch of the sun disk in Hathor's horns. Nilou also has the bikini top thing going on, but that's more in reference to the Persian belly dancer stereotype. The reason Hathor has a bikini top in gods of egypt is because most ancient art of her shows her topless or at least with one tit out. Gods of Egypt decided to be boring and stay pg-13.

Of course like with Cyno and Anubis the connections don't stop at design.

Hathor is the goddess with a thousand names (joking). But the list is long she's goddess of the sky, the moon, the sun, love, motherhood, agriculture, the east, the west, providing for the dead, rare minerals/gold copper lapis lazuli, guardian of miners, incense, guardian of travelers/foreigners, cows, sycamore trees, wine, drunkenness, war, and cosmetics.

Like I said it’s a lot. Here’s the ones that fit Nilou and the dead flower goddess Nilou represents. Hathor goddess of rebirth/lotus flowers.

Nilou’s name means “blue lotus”. In Egyptian mythos the lotus represents death and rebirth and it’s common to find art of Hathor with a blue lotus flower. This is because Hathor was depicted both as a motherly goddess that welcomed you into the world and as a goddess of death that offered you food and drink in the afterlife. The OG definition of I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it.

(Pretend one of them is hathor all the hathor one's have her tits out like I said before. Since I'm cross posting this on Hoyolab no tits for you.)

Hathor is also the Goddess of Music and Dance which is Nilou's whole thing. She was also the Goddess of Joy and Gratitude. If you play Nilou's Story Quest you find she spreads happiness to all the people of the bazaar. So much so they often give her gifts in thanks.

Hathor was also credited with the creation of the Nile in some stories. Scholars list this as her being the goddess of moisture? For some reason. But really all that matters is it's some sort of water connection. Hathor is more well known as a sky goddess. The Milky way gets it's name because of the sky was considered cow Hathor and the milky way her milk. Seeing as space isn't an element in Genshin they went with water. But they still reference this connection in Nilou's character trailer.

(She's literally looking at the Milky way my guys.)

Hathor is the goddess of rare minerals and was worshiped in mines far into the Sinai Peninsula (Outside of Egypt's Borders) as a protection goddess for miners. But the rare gemstone most commonly associated with her is Lapis Lazuli. Nilou's gemstone stone decorations are most likely this stone. Lapis Lazuli has been mined in the middle east since ancient times most specifically in Isreal. But it is cheaper than Blue Sapphire the other option for Nilou's ornaments.

Lastly Hathor is known as The Eye of Ra. Enacting Ra's will/punishment on humanity. Other's have been the Eye of Ra but Hathor's story is the most infamous. It's said that once she took the form of Sekhmet she refused to stop killing humans. None of the other gods were strong enough to beat her in a fight. So they spilled Beer/Wine along the Nile, Sekhmet came and drank thinking it was the blood of her enemies. She got so drunk she past out and Ra was able to remove the blessing transforming her back into cow Hathor the gentle. There are no other stories of Hathor channeling the Eye of Ra after this occasion.

As a playable Genshin character Nilou is required to be good at combat. But it doesn't hurt to have her source material be a gentle soul with a secret blood thirsty warrior within.

So to summarize Hathor is a goddess of lotus flowers, music, dance love, joy, gratitude, moisture, the sky/milky way, lapis lazuli, protection, and war. All characteristics that can be found in Nilou. Along with a nice horn head piece.

So what do you think? Is Nilou secretly a goddess of Love? Are there any connections I missed?

Check out my Cyno breakdown Here! and Follow to find out when I post Candace's breakdown! Also Thanks for reading this monster of a post.

[iviarellereads]

Harrow the Ninth, Prologue

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Insectoid Herald icon) In which we are shown a lot of things that make us ask questions, and asked to be patient in the getting of answers.

A Note Up Front:

The Dramatis Personae of Gideon the Ninth was sometimes useful in keeping track of who was from which House. The DP of Harrow the Ninth might seem beside the point at first, given that only a few of the Lyctors still live. But, I'd recommend having a nice close look at it. See if anything stands out to you. Like for example, the way ORTUS the Ninth is capitalized. And how Harrow's cavalier's name is blacked out with layers and layers of printed letters. It will also be useful as different names come up, as the book progresses and we learn more about the history of God's inner circle. Also review the House poem, as it's been expanded some from Gideon's edition. Take every hint you can, with this book.

I often pitch Gideon the Ninth as a locked-house murder mystery. Harrow is much more complex, though the pitch I've found the most success with and the most positive feedback to is more or less, "Harrow the Ninth is like a popup Michelin-starred restaurant experience, only the food is served under total cover of darkness, and nothing that's served is what was on the menu up front, but somehow it's also exactly what it promised to be and exactly what you needed."

Try not to feel ashamed or frustrated if you don't understand the mysteries at play. You're not supposed to. There are hints, yes, and some of the things I gesture at in the text will be parts of that breadcrumb trail, but the wide experience of Harrow the Ninth is not understanding any of what's going on until the very end. It's the expected experience. I've seen different people piece together different pieces of the tangled web, but I've never seen anybody accurately guess what's coming until the proper reveals.

With that said:

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EMPEROR'S MURDER(1)

Told in a mysterious second-person(2) which I'm going to flatten to third for my purposes, but I really do ask that you read each chapter before you read my summaries to get the full effect.

The room has been dark for some time, the thump of the Heralds flinging themselves onto the hull clearly audible. It's very cold, and a thin layer of frost covers Harrow's face and hair. Sometimes she screams, and she isn't even embarrassed anymore. It's just her body's reaction to the proximity.(3)

God's voice emerges from the comm, telling them it's ten minutes to breach. They'll have half an hour of air conditioning, then they'll "be working in the oven." He tells Harrow he'll keep hers closed longer, and Harrow staggers through the concentric circles of bone matter(4) she's laid out as her weapons to be to the comm button and snaps that she can take care of herself. He says her necromancy won't work in the River. She says she is a Lyctor, his hand, and if he wants a hand who needs to hide, she's misjudged him.

She hears the exhale of his sigh, and he tells her not to be in such a hurry to die. She says not to underestimate her, she's survived everything so far.

Harrow moves back to the middle of the room. She sits cross-legged, with her rapier in her lap, fighting the urge to throw it across the room.

The door slides open, and Ianthe the First(5) enters, without setting off Harrow's traps. Her rapier looks black, and the bones of her right arm(6) gleam an oily gold. Harrow closes her eyes to her. Ianthe says she would protect Harrow, if Harrow would only ask. Harrow gives some vivid descriptions of ghastly things she'd rather have done to her than to be protected by Ianthe. Ianthe, however, says hopefully that she hears a "maybe", and asks Harrow to stop being coy. Harrow says not to pretend that Ianthe is "here for anything other than to look after an investment."

Ianthe says she came to warn Harrow.

"You came to warn me?" Your voice sounded flat and affectless, even to you. "You came to warn me now?"

Ianthe approaches, crunching the bone circles.(7) Harrow can sense her fear, even without trying.

"Nonagesimus, nobody is coming to save you. Not God. Not Augustine.(8) Nobody." There was no mockery in her voice now, but there was something else: excitement, perhaps, or unease.(9) "You'll be dead within the first half hour. You're a sitting duck. Unless there's something in one of those letters(10) I don't know about, you're out of tricks."

Harrow feels Ianthe cup her chin in her hands, the flesh fingers almost feverish compared to the gilded bone ones, and is shocked into opening her eyes, not quite sure it's not a hallucination. Ianthe is before Harrow, "in unmistakable supplication." Her gaze is both beseeching and full of "contemptuous despair", her "blue eyes with deep splotches of light brown, like agate." Ianthe tells Harrow she can undo what Harrow has done, if she just turns around.(11) Together, at full power, they could "rip apart this Resurrection Beast and come away unscathed." Save the whole galaxy, let them weep to talk of Ianthe and Harrowhark.

"The past is dead, and they're both dead, but you and I are alive. What are they? What are they, other than one more corpse we're dragging behind us?"(12)

Harrow judges that Ianthe's expression is excitement, not unease, and senses that this is an important moment.

She tells Ianthe to go fuck herself.

Ianthe's face freezes back into a mocking mask.

"I didn't think this was the time for dirty talk, but I can roll with it," she said. "Choke me, Daddy."

Harrow tells Ianthe to get out. Ianthe says Harrow always was stubborn, and maybe she should have died at Canaan House. Harrow says Ianthe should have killed her sister, because her eyes don't match her face.

God's voice interrupts before Ianthe can retort, reminding them of the time, four minutes left, and make sure they're in their places.

Ianthe turns away from Harrow, trailing her "human fingers" across the wall as she walks back to the exit, and says, "Well, I tried, and therefore no one should criticize me,"(13) then ducks out of the room. Harrow is left "profoundly alone" as it starts to warm up.

She thinks about opening the envelope, addressed to herself, that reads "To open in case of your imminent death."

She calms herself as some distant part of the station gives a crunch of plex and metal. She cocoons herself in perpetual bone, foolish since it will dissolve when she submerges in the River, but still she adds layer after layer.

Throughout the Mithraeum, five pairs of eyes closed in concert, one of them yours. Unlike theirs, yours would not open again. In half an hour, no matter what Teacher(14) might hope, you would be dead.

The Lyctors and the Emperor start to submerge themselves in the River to face off with the Resurrection Beast. Harrow wades with them, but leaves her vulnerable meat behind.

"I pray the tomb is shut forever," you heard yourself saying aloud, and you could not bring your voice above a choked whisper. "I pray the rock is never rolled away. I pray that which was buried remains buried, insensate, in perpetual rest with closed eye and stilled brain. I pray it lives ... O corse of the Locked Tomb," you extemporised wildly. "Beloved dead, hear your handmaiden. I loved you with my whole rotten, contemptible heart--I loved you to the exclusion of aught else--let me live long enough to die at your feet." Then you went under to make war on Hell. * * * Hell spat you back out. Fair enough.

Harrow doesn't wake up in the River, on the other side of the veil. She wakes in the corridor outside her room, sweating, and... bleeding, her own rapier sticking out of her stomach, stuck from behind. The wound is not a hallucination, and Harrow is too far gone to knit it together with her magic. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't read the imminent death letter.

You were only half a Lyctor, and half a Lyctor was worse than not a Lyctor at all.

Outside, the Heralds of the Resurrection Beast are so thick they block the stars, and they're heating the ship far too effectively. Harrow hears distant swordfighting and flinches from a sound she's hated since birth.

You prepared to die with the Locked Tomb on your lips. But your idiot dying mouth rounded out three totally different syllables, and they were syllables you did not even understand.(15)

=====

(1) I hope you didn't think this was going to be a particularly happy story. (2) Not everyone knows what the perspectives are! So, there are three and a half perspectives to tell a story from. The first person is oneself, so the story is told in "I" pronouns. The second person is talking to the self, and is told in "you" pronouns. The third person is an outside observer, and uses third-person pronouns (she, they, he). The third person can also be "omniscient" (able to read everyone's thoughts and tell absolute truths), or "close" (as if sitting on one character's shoulder, only able to hear their thoughts and see through their perspective to some degree) or switch between the two if the writer feels particularly ambitious. Gideon the Ninth was told in third person close perspective, but Harrow… is a bit of a goodie bag of treats. For now, this is second-person, a story being told to a person, for some reason. If it unsettles you, I implore you to bear with it, as I think Muir really earns it out. If you have a guess as to why it's being told from this perspective on your first read, bravo, you're paying more attention than I did my first time. (Just don't get me started on the temporal tense of the narrative and how changing it can play with the perspectives, or we'll be here all day.) (3) The proximity of what exactly? Oh yes. We'll get there. (4) Protective circles are a long-established trope and I don't want anyone to miss the way they're invoked here, given what's to come. (5) This is still the same Ianthe, "the First" is just the honorary given to the Lyctors, as their ascension means inclusion in the Emperor's house, as his guard, his saints, his hands. See: the House poem in the front of the book. (Told you it would come in handy.) (6) Ah yes, the arm she lost in the battle with Cytherea. Golden bone sounds fun and very Third. And now you can look at a lot of Ianthe fanart spoiler-free! (7) Ianthe, violating the protective circle Harrow has laid out. Is this a deeper gesture, or something meaningless? I don't feel qualified to tell you without spoiling something but I'll note that I picked this out on my first read, and I still think it's interesting to think about. (8) Here, again, the Dramatis Personae. One of the remaining living Lyctors. To avoid this being a redundant footnote: why would Ianthe assume that Harrow would assume God or Augustine, in that order, would rescue her? Why would she not assume the others would? (9) I know which way I lean, knowing what I do of the rest of the book, but what about first time readers? (10) Letters, you ask? I know this is a lot being thrown at you. I promise, we'll get there. For now, another thing to keep in mind. (11) What has Harrow done? Yes at this point I'm sort of offering a list of the mysteries in the book more than I'm offering commentary in footnotes. (12) Who is the "they" in this context? (13) The memes return! This one is from a Saturday Night Live sketch with Daniel Radcliffe, from 2012. The sketch itself is… bad, it's bad, it's feeding into the same myth of millennials being over-praised that keeps proving itself wronger every year but still keeps on a-ticking, but the moment of this line has nevertheless become an iconic meme, used to make fun of people with too much confidence in their abilities. (14) Teacher? The dead multisoul construct from Canaan House? He did once say that he hoped the candidates would go on to call God their Teacher someday… (15) What could matter to Harrow that constitutes just three syllables to say? Why wouldn't she understand them?

[dankusner]

The 2nd time I interviewed TAMMY FAYE...

Because she's returning to daytime TV, Tammy Faye cancelled her "cabaret show" that was scheduled to stop in Dallas on Oct. 11.

MORE CHRISTIAN CONTROERSY

So-called gay icon Tammy Faye goes on record as 'disagreeing' with gay community, says Bible is against same-sex marriages

By DANIEL KUSNER | Oct. 3, 2003

In her new book, I Will Survive … And You I Will, Too! Tammy Faye Messner offers T-shirt-like slogans about overcoming hardships.

These cutesy little tidbits are called "Tammy-isms," which match her baby-voiced approach to life.

After a recent phone interview with the former Queen of the Electric Church, one Tammy-ism seemed to ring especially true:

"People are like tea bags — if you want to find out what's inside them, just drop them in hot water."

Ever since the RuPaul-narrated documentary The Eyes of Tammy Faye was released in 2000, Tammy Faye has become a queer icon by making appearances at a number of gay pride events.

In 2001, she charmed Dallasites as the star attraction at the rally in Lee Park following the Alan Ross Texas Freedom Parade.

Wearing a black military-style jacket with gold fringe and a bright red wig, Tammy Faye told a story about a rainstorm erupting while visiting Disney World.

As the Disney employees handed out yellow waterproof jackets to everyone, Tammy Faye made a stunning observation — race, gender, color and sexual identity were suddenly invisible.

"That's how God sees us," she told everyone in Lee Park. "God sees all of us as if we are in a yellow raincoat."

Until very recently, Tammy Faye had always backed away from commenting on issues important to gays and lesbians, such as same-sex marriages.

But I Will Survive will probably startle many gay readers — especially anyone who heard her "little yellow raincoat" sermon.

In chapter 47: "The Gay Community," the First Lady of Televangelism recalls how she showed compassion by reaching out to a gay man dying of AIDS.

After the PTL scandal erupted, it was gay men who first reached out to a financially and emotionally depressed Tammy Faye.

"They helped pay my bills while Roe was in prison," she writes, noting that one gay fan gave her $10,000 — tax-free! "They sent me beautiful things — clothes, jewelry, flowers. They overwhelmed me with the love I no longer felt from the Christian community."

She returned the kindness by ministering in gay churches and attending AIDS benefits.

But Tammy Faye also writes that she doesn't "even pretend to understand the gay lifestyle," and when she discusses the Bible and sexuality that her gay friends "allow me to disagree with them."

With 35 years of experience on live television, sermonizing and singing, Tammy Faye has her act down to a science.

When she's not playing the tear-stained victim, it's hard not be won over by her sparkly wit and spunky demeanor.

But in a recent phone interview, she repeatedly flew into hysterics like the little girls from The Crucible — especially when it came to clarifying her beliefs on same-sex marriages and trying to figure out what her "disagreement" with gays and lesbians is all about.

"I don't think there should be gay marriages. I think that marriage is between a husband and wife. I think the Bible decided that many years ago. I feel sorry for the gay people, but I think that there can never really be a marriage between gay people. That's just my opinion and a billion other people's," she says.

Does the Bible actually say anything against marriages between people of the same gender?

"I just think that that is not how God meant it to be — as far as getting married. I know people who have lived together forever but they didn't take it as far as getting married. They just lived together and loved each other and cared about each other," she says.

As the interview continued, Tammy Faye shows her agitation by launching into a hyper-shrill response that almost seems rote, and she constantly repeats that she doesn't want to "argue."

Instead of commenting further on gay marriages, she offers "You can read it in the Bible yourself, honey."

Isn't she a preacher?

Isn't it her job to proclaim the gospel?

"Well, what do you think?" she throws the question back into my lap.

I explain that I'm trying to figure out Tammy Faye's message for gay people regarding salvation.

Is her philosophy "love the sinner, hate the sin?" I ask.

"I don't have a message. I tell them to read their Bibles and seek the Lord. That's exactly what I tell them. And I'm not going any further on it," she says.

Why does discussing this topic upset her so much?

"Because it's all I ever get asked about," she says.

Gay people have been asking her these questions?

"I'm not saying gay people — I'm asked by the straight people about this all the time," she says. "I am trying to bring the gay world and the church world together. So that they love each other and care for each other and realize that the gay people are wonderful people and they should be allowed in the churches."

Is it "gay sex" that she thinks is sinful?

"Listen, if it were me, I would never be gay because I'm a heterosexual. I don't understand it at all. I think that the gay community and I — we have agreed to disagree. And everywhere I go, we talk about this. And they say, 'Well, Tammy, that's fair,"' she explains.

"The gay community knows I have a disagreement. I got right on Larry King and I told him, 'The gay people and I have agreed to disagree. I am heterosexual. I do not understand the homosexual life. But I agree to disagree with them and I love them. And we're going to work together.'"

When it comes to being gay, what is it that she doesn't understand?

"Listen, this interview is over. And I'm sorry it didn't go better than this," she says before she hangs up the phone.

Tammy Faye was scheduled to bring her "cabaret show" to Dallas in mid-October, but those plans have been scrapped because she's planning to bring Tammy's House Party back as a daytime talk show in 2004.

In the meantime — since these questions are constantly haunting her — maybe she can come up with a more poignant response in reconciling her fundamentalist beliefs with the gay community.

[nadja-antipaxos]

Chapter 2: she drives me crazy - december 2012

Previously - Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Next - Chapter 3

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: swearing, alcohol drinking, action-style violence, brief trauma from fight, a kiss, sexual tension

Note: Hope you enjoy it! Thank you. Please leave a comment or some kind of feedback if you'd like.

Word Count: 14,025 (so sorry this one and the next are the longest)

It’s 7:15 am on December 18th, Nicolette takes the final bite of her bagel and turns off the coffee machine. A holographic screen pops up next to her letting her know she has a visitor. A tall man with black aviators, a dark baseball cap, a grey hooded sweatshirt, and a black leather jacket stands with his hands shoved into his jean pockets. He has a blue backpack slung over his shoulder. Captain Steve Rogers looks like the world’s worst 21 Jump Street agent. She groans and puts on a silk robe to cover her nightgown.

“I know Tony’s not dead.” Nicolette presses her hands into the doorframe, blocking Steve’s way in. “So, why are you here?”

“You’re his sister. He wants you to be safe.” Steve didn’t think he’d have to convince her.

“Okay, soo by this logic—the Mandarin killed Tony, but to hurt him even more, he’s going to kill his little sister after he’s dead?”

“It’s a precaution. We talked about this before the Mandarin. Natasha and I work in DC like you, so it makes sense.”

“Then where’s Natasha?”

“She has a mission.”

“And you don’t?”

“Fury agreed you should be kept safe.”

“This is so stupid.”

“Can I come in?”

“Having a hard time protecting me from the hallway?”

“Please?”

“Fine.” She steps back and lets him inside.

He hangs by the door, in a way he thinks is polite, but she finds it annoying.

“Take a seat. Look around. Or don’t.” Nicolette waves her hand and walks away.

Steve sets his backpack on a chair at the kitchen table in her small, but up-to-date kitchen which leads into the living room. There’s no artwork of herself or narcissistic awards like at the Avengers Tower. In fact, except for a few touches like a ceramic, sky blue elephant on the end table, an interesting shelf shaped like a hexagon, and some tulips, it’s very minimalist. There’s a book of French Impressionists on the coffee table next to a steaming mug. All the photos on the mantle are personal, not professional. With the lack of magazine covers, he wonders if she really is a Stark. She doesn’t even have photos of herself on her own. They’re all of her with Tony, Pepper, the same two very beautiful women, or an impossibly tall blond man. He spots the one of her, Tony, and Happy all in sunglasses with their arms folded, pretending to be serious. In another, she’s sticking her tongue out while Tony points to her Harvard diploma.  She clears her throat and Steve puts the picture down on the mantle.

“Here.” She hands him a cup of coffee. ” I don’t know how you take your coffee.”

“Black, so it’s perfect. Thank you.” He looks down at the cup then back up at her.

She has her hair pulled back in a bun and wears a yellow sweater with a black skirt with gold buttons running up the side. She looks incredibly professional while glaring at him.  She throws herself in a chair, so he sits across from her on the couch.

“The famous Captain America gets to play fucking babysitter.” She sighs and picks up her mug from the table.

“You know, women didn’t really talk like that in the ’40s.”

“Maybe not to you. I know for a fact my nana cursed more than I do.” She looks him up and down. “Don’t worry about my mouth, Captain Steve.”

His eyes fall on her lips, now that she said that, and he notices her nude lipstick. He realizes he should say something, but his throat is dry. He swallows hard.

“I’m not interested in deflowering an American icon. Unless I’m too late?”

Her blue eyes sparkle with mischief and his face gets hot. Starks are nosy.

“What the what?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Who popped your cherry?”

“No one.”

“I figured there was a line out the door, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Was this when you were all ‘Extra Extra! We have to fight the Nazis! It’s our boy, Captain America. C’mon, gals, make him a man!’” Her voice deepens and picks up speed like an old newsreel announcer.

Steve wants to laugh but doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction, so he scoffs.

“The USO tour! Lots of time on the road with  ladies.” Her eyes widen.

He takes a drink of coffee. She rests her chin on her hand and studies him.

“And they had those rocket bras, right? I never got that. Let me poke your eye out with my tits.”

Steve rubs his temples. She is impossible. Why am I always fighting with Starks?

“WWII dude shortage, one super-soldier, and horny ladies equal—” She clicks her tongue and points at him. “—punched V-card.”

This time, Steve can’t hide his laughter, so he just raises his mug over his mouth.

“You’re laughing! I won!”

“Miss Stark, I’m not talking about this.” He can’t look her in eyes but focuses on a spot behind her.

“Please tell me you didn’t pay for it.”

“Oh my god!” Steve nearly spits out his coffee onto her carpet.

“Hey, I love sex workers, but I’m sure women are willing to drop their panties at the sight of you.” She tilts her head back and pretends to swoon. ”Oh, Captain America, show me the meaning of the stars and stripes.”

“How are you worse than Tony?”

“It’s no biggie. My first was my ex, Ben. It’s sex.”

“I didn’t need to know that.” Steve knows he’s all red from how much his cheeks are burning.

“God, you’re such a prude.” She shakes her head. “Lemme guess, you lasted 5 minutes?”

Steve buries his face in his hands.

“Aww, it’s okay, buddy. You’ll get better the more you practice.” She chuckles, enjoying every second of this.

“Where is your bathroom?” He stands up.

“That way. First right.” She points her finger.

She hears the door shut and smirks. That was way too easy. She rushes down the stairs and goes outside. She locks up with her phone—something Tony created when she first moved in. She starts her walk down the street when she hears an exaggerated throat clearing. It’s Steve. He has an “I’m not mad. I’m disappointed” look on his face that makes her roll her eyes. He’s such a pain in the ass.

“Where are you going?”

“A bar mitzvah. What do you think? I’m going to work. It’s my last day before we close for Christmas.”

“Everyone thinks Tony’s dead. If you walk in there like everything’s fine, it might tip off the Mandarin.” He speaks softly in her ear.

“Shit.” She breathes.

Her brow furrows as the gears turn in her head.

“I really just need to drop off some files.” She lifts the USB drive on her keychain.

Steve nods and lets her lead the way to her office. It’s a very quick walk, so he can see why she chose that apartment building. She’s very fast and weaves in and out of the pedestrians which makes it a little annoying to follow her.

Despite the fact it’s barely 8 am, a swarm of reporters is waiting for her at the door. Microphones are shoved in her face.

“Are you going to California?”

“Did Tony say any last words?”

“Are you going to take over Stark Industries with Pepper Potts?”

“How do you feel about your brother’s death?”

Nicolette shrinks back as the lenses snap every frame of her surprised expression. Immediately, Steve puts himself between her and the reporters. She keeps her head down and he guides them inside, shutting the door on the press.

“You okay?” He asks when they get in the elevator.

“Fine.” She hits the button.

“Do reporters usually bother you like that?” He looks over at her.

“Nope. Perks of being the accident child.” She folds her arms across her chest. “I made myself as boring as possible, so no one gives a shit.”

The doors open and she walks through.  Apparently, his disguise actually works because no one approaches him. He just stands a few feet away with broad shoulders rolled back and his hands folded across his expansive chest. Immediately, her supervisor, Colleen rushes over to her. She’s a tall, wisp of a woman with black hair. She moves in like she wants to hug Nicolette, but doesn’t. She’s not that kind of person.

“Oh, Nicolette, I’m so sorry about your brother.”

“Well, uh, he’s not—they’re still investigating.”

“It’s good to be positive.”

“I have the updated discovery and the briefs you needed. I didn’t wanna wait till after New Year’s.”

“What would I do without you? Let’s go to my office.”

“I’ll be right back.” She tells Steve. Colleen looks at her. “Security detail.”

“I see.”

Nicolette comes back and gives Steve a nod.

“I have my cell if you need me, Colleen. Merry Christmas.” Nicolette says before walking out a different door. There are no reporters this time and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Steve stays behind her keeping an eye on everything around him with his heightened senses. No one notices them. The wind picks up and she adjusts the scarf on her neck as they keep walking. Her skin burns pink from the cold. Once inside her building, she goes up to the front desk.

“Hi, Mark. This is...Frank Farmer. Can we get him a guest pass?”

“Sure thing, Miss Stark.”

She leans over the desk and fills out some paperwork then hands it back to the security guard. She hands Steve the pass and he follows her inside the elevator.

“Frank Farmer?”

“You’ve never seen the Bodyguard?”

“No.”

“How did you get in earlier?”

“I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”  She mimics childishly.

She uses her phone to unlock the door and walks in. She takes off her scarf, coat, and gloves and hangs them on the coat rack. He follows her to the small study off of the living room. There’s a large bookcase covering the wall, a green banker’s lamp, a framed poster of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and her Harvard Law diploma on the wall.

“So, what’s the plan here? I’m supposed to go to my friend Jordan’s place in New York.”

“Unfortunately, Miss Stark, you need to stay here.”

“Tony threatens a terrorist and my Christmas gets ruined. You got a shift schedule with the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents?”

“It’s just me.”

“You and I stuck here? You fucking serious?”

“For your safety. It’s not a punishment.” Steve stares at her, realizing he’s moving closer to her as the argument escalates.

“I’m not a goddamn child or some damsel in distress. I don’t need this.” Nicolette’s all in his space. He knows she’s a foot shorter than him, but she’s very angry.  Her eyes narrow and her jaw clenches. If looks could kill…

“After what happened to Hogan—”

“I gotta make a call. Or you gonna watch me while I do that too?”

“No.”

“Great. Do whatever you want. Watch TV. Stare at 21st-century cars on the balcony. I don’t really care. You can put your shit upstairs in the guest room."

Steve nods and walks out, shutting the door behind him. She’s so frustrating. She’s the most frustrating woman he’s ever met. She’s being a brat because she isn’t getting her way for her safety. Maybe he should’ve gone to Ibiza and let Natasha watch her. He looks at the television and then at the balcony. It would be good to get some fresh air.

Nicolette stares at the door and takes her phone out of her purse. She quickly cancels her flight and pays the late cancellation fee. Unlike Tony, she doesn’t like flying private for every single trip.

Jordan Rosa (8:31 am)

Hey lady. Saw you on the news.

Lucy Anderson (8:31 am)

CALL US NOW!

Dylan Sparrow (8:31 am)

Hope you’re ok <3. Boarding flight. See you soon!

She sighs and dials, putting the phone up to her ear. She’s glad Tony created that secure server, so she doesn’t have to worry about her calls being monitored.

“Hey.” Nicolette throws herself in her chair.

“Hey, babe,” Jordan says in a tone that lets her know she’s smiling.

“Hey, sweetie. Are you okay?” Lucy’s voice is already dripping with sweetness. It’d be annoying if it wasn’t so genuine.

“This day fucking sucks.” Nicolette puts her legs up on her desk.

“I’m sorry they camped out at your office like that.” She can hear the frown in Lucy’s voice.

“Are you going to the airport soon?” Jordan asks.

“No.” Nicolette lowers her voice.” Get this, I’m grounded. Being babysat by an Avenger.”

“Dylan’s gonna whine about this.” Jordan’s voice sounds very similar to something like whining.

“Who’s with you? Natasha? The Hulk? Thor? Bow and arrow guy?” Lucy lists them off so rapidly that her Chicago accent blends some bits together.

“You forgot one. Steve fucking Rogers.”

“So you’re trapped in your apartment with Captain America?”

“Don’t sound so delighted, J. He has such a stick up his ass. It’s the worst.”

“Maybe he’ll feel better once you take that super-soldier dick for a ride.”

“Jesus, Jordan!” Nicolette tips back and falls out of her chair. She lands on her side on the carpet.

The door opens and she sees Steve standing above her, upside down. He’s staring and she’s just staring right back.

“Are you okay, Miss Stark?” He reaches for her, but she swats his hand away.  She stands up on her own and sits back down. Steve really wants to help, but she won’t even let him fix her chair. She’s relentlessly stubborn.

“I’m fine. My friend is an idiot,” she yells into the phone.

“You’re sure?”

“Common hazard of being a shorty. I’m fine.”

He nods and walks out, shutting the door.

“You’re so mean to him, Nikki.” Lucy coos.

“Whatever. He can handle it.” Nicolette rolls her eyes.

“God, that voice. I’m wet already.” Jordan’s practically drooling.

“Stop it. You’re not helping.”

“You don’t think he’s cute, Nic?” Lucy asks.

“He’s basically like an overprotective dad. He gives this stupid look every time I swear. It’s ridiculous.”

“Send me a pic.”

“No.”

“Remember all that Captain America stuff we found in your dad’s office?”

“The poster you stole?”

“Got me through junior year. That and Tyra Banks.”

“Gross. You were getting off to a dead guy.”

“Who is actually very much alive and could fuck you right now.”

“He’s a human being. Not a sex toy.”

“A human sex toy.”

“Seriously, he may look hot, but he’s the most boring man in the universe.”

“Mmm, sexual tension. Merry Christmas to you.”

“Nikki. Jor. I can’t take much more of this.”

“I’m just saying if your plans have changed they should include getting the most patriotic dick in America.”

“I’m hanging up.” Lucy threatens.

“Listen, there should be some condoms leftover in the guest room from when you were in Tokyo in May.”

“Really? When you were house sitting? That’s why you had my sheets sent out?”

“Maybe.”

“Please stay safe. We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

 “And have safe sex.”

“J, I’m gonna kill you. I’ll be fine. Tony’s the only Stark anyone cares about.”

“We love you, Nikki.”

“You too, even though Jordan’s a pervert.”

“I’m your favorite pervert. Love you, lady.”

“Love you. Merry Christmas.”

“Maybe we’ll see you for New Year’s? Dylan’s gonna be so upset if you miss Christmas and New Year’s.”

“Yeah, maybe. Keep your phones on. I’m gonna be bored.”

“Only if you send shirtless pics of your bodyguard.”

“Bye.” Nicolette shakes her head.

Once she’s off the phone, she presses her face into the desk. The wood is cold and she takes a deep breath trying to soothe her pounding head. She was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with her friends and then see Tony on Christmas Day. It’s all gone to shit now. Natasha had told her about the mandated psychological evaluations that they all took. Tony refused his. Nicolette suggested a private therapist and he laughed it off. Then Happy got hurt and he threatened a terrorist with global access to explosives. She hates seeing what could be his last moments on CNN. When he was kidnapped. When he fell out of a wormhole in New York. Now the remnants of the Malibu house floats in the ocean. But he survived. He’s alive. He’s in hiding and she has no idea where, but he’s alive. She sobs until she can’t cry anymore and everything fades away.

“Outta my way!” Nicolette rushed past the different soldiers. “My brother just escaped terrorists, you fuckwits.”

“She’s been under a lot of stress.” Pepper chuckled.

Nicolette practically skidded on the pavement when she stopped in front of Tony. He was considerably thinner with cuts on his face. She swallowed hard as her eyes linger at the blue sling on his arm.  It hurt to look at him.  She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and he blinked back tears. In true Stark fashion, she cracked a smile.

“Thank God, I am not CEO material.”

“C’mon, another Stark CEO at 21?”

Nicolette shook her head and put her small arms around him.

“You asshole.” Nicolette laughed.

“Your favorite asshole.” He wasn’t sure he was gonna see her again.

“Always.” She rested her head on his shoulder.  

Right away, they got in the car because Tony’s on a mission. She looked back at him from the passenger’s seat.  She watched as Pepper and Tony argued in their usual way. He was really there.

“Can I get a frozen Coke?” She put her chin on top of the headrest.

“See, Pip gets it.” He winked at her.

Steve doesn’t hear anything in the study for a while, so he puts down the book on French impressionists and goes to check on her. She’s asleep with her face on the desk. He wants to move her to a more comfortable spot, but she’s not yelling at him if she’s asleep. He stands awkwardly, debating, and accidentally kicks her door. She lifts her head.

“Light sleeper.” She mumbles. She tries to get to her feet, but her leg is numb. She staggers back urging her leg to move. Steve steadies her before she falls on the floor. God, his hand covers her entire shoulder making him feel like a giant.

“Why don’t you get some rest upstairs?” He suggests.

Maybe it’s because she’s half-awake, but she nods without any snarky comment. When Steve helps her up, he’s reminded of how small she is. It was the first thing he noticed about her back in July. He could lift her and she’d probably weigh nothing. Instead, he puts his hand on the small of her back as she moves up the short staircase.

“There.” She points to the bedroom at the end of the hallway.

He guides her to her room. His touch pulses through her skin because he’s so warm. It’s like he has a constant fever. It’s weird. There’s a big bed with lilac-colored sheets in the center of the room and a large painting of “Monet’s Water Lilies and the Japanese Bridge” hanging above it. He can see the bathroom door in the corner and her closet on the opposite corner. She holds onto his arm as she kicks off her heeled boots. She could be holding onto a statue at this point. Is he made of marble?  Her hand barely covers his elbow, he notices, before she rips back the duvet. She tucks herself in and he thinks she looks like a little doll in a child’s playset. He nods and shuts the door. She must be exhausted because she goes right back to sleep.

“Just say it, Pip.”

“What in the fuck, dude?”

“I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want any more blood on my hands.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You thought that the weapons you made would just magically stay in the hands of our troops? Where have you been? Drunk? Or are you that naive?” Her eyes narrowed.

“You wanna keep killing people as long as it lines our pockets?” Tony tossed up the hand that wasn’t in the sling. He was getting angry with her.

“I wanna sleep at night, Tone. You ever wonder why I won’t work for the family business?” She sighed, exasperated.

“Then why are you mad at me?” His voice got quiet.

“I’m worried about you.” The tears flooded her eyes.

“I’m okay. I’m here.” He leaned forward and touched her hand.

“You’re all I’ve got.” Her lip trembled as she held back tears.

“I’m not going anywhere, Pip.” He squeezed her hand.

Nicolette wakes up and her bedroom is dark. She sits up and sighs. Her hair has fallen out of its bun and her makeup is ruined from all that crying. It’s 5 pm. She slept the day away and she’s still drained. She hears a sound in the hallway and remembers her guest. Great. What an annoying night this is going to be.

Steve hears featherlight footsteps on the stairs. He turns his head and sees Nicolette with long, wet dark hair, a red candy cane sweatshirt that reads “I’m Not Short I’m Just A Tall Elf”, and black leggings. The shirt makes him chuckle and he wonders who got it for her. God, she’s so naturally pretty.  He catches the thought immediately and pushes it out of his mind. It’s just then that it dawns on him that they’re completely alone. He can count the times he’s been alone with a woman on one hand. He remembers vividly running away from the dancers who would break into his hotels on the road. He has the distinct feeling Nicolette wouldn’t break into any room of his even if it was on fire and he was passed out from smoke inhalation.

“Hi.” He clears his throat.

“Hi.” She moves into the kitchen and gets a glass of water. “You want something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine.” He lifts his glass.

“Vodka or water?” She arches an eyebrow.

“Water.” He says flatly.

“Of course.” She sighs and sits down at the opposite end of the couch.

There are quite a few books on her coffee table that she recognizes from her study like the 1818 edition of Frankenstein, Sharp Objects, The Meaning of Freedom and Women, Culture & Politics both by Angela Davis, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho, and Gone Girl.

“Enjoying yourself?” She smirks.

“I didn’t wanna wake you with the television. I hope this was okay.”

Nicolette tilts her head. Of course, it was okay.

“Where are you gonna start?”

“Oh, I finished them all.”

She stares at him.

“I like reading. I finished the Impressionists book you have.” He lifts it off the coffee table.” Then went from there.”

Her lips curl into the tiniest smile at how earnest he is.  He just took 6 weeks of a gender studies course in an afternoon.

“Do you like pizza?”

Nicolette allows Steve to answer the door. She stays in the kitchen per his request and grabs the vodka from the freezer. It could be a bludgeoning vodka or drinking vodka—either way it’s gonna work.

“I was gonna say it’s clear.” Steve looks at her and sets the boxes down on the counter.

“Hey, this could be a weapon.” She untwists the cap and goes about making herself a martini. She grabs two plates and hands one to him grazing her knuckles on his.

“Ladies first.” He raises his eyebrows.

“Vodka first.” She knocks back her drink in a few gulps much to his surprise. She throws some slices on her plate and makes another martini. “You want one?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Wait!”

She runs over to the fridge and pulls out a beer. She likes it sometimes, but Jordan loves beer. She hands it to him proudly. His large hand nearly swallows hers when he takes it.

“Thanks.” He laughs. He follows her back to the couch but puts a serious room between the two of them. She’s on her second piece when he finishes the entire pizza. No wonder they ordered four.

“Well, shit.” Nicolette leans back against the couch to just watch.

“My metabolism is four times faster than yours.” He feels his cheeks burn.

“That’s fun for you, huh?” She sips her drink.

“I wouldn’t say fun.” He shrugs.

“Fascinating.”

“Are you gonna eat?”

“And miss this?”

Steve gives her a look, so she puts her drink down.

“Fine, fine.” She bites into her piece.

She doesn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable about eating. Being old? Yes. Being boring? Yes. Being embarrassed about sex? Yes. Eating? No. He ends up eating another pizza and she has about three slices. She keeps her comments to herself while flipping through channels.

“You sure I can’t get you anything stronger? I have whiskey.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. I can’t get drunk.”

“Aww, that’s so sad.”

“It’s fine.”

“So even if you wanted to—you can’t. Aww, Captain Steve. I’m gonna drink for you then.”

Nicolette looks so heartbroken it makes him laugh. She can’t help but think what a beautiful smile he has. His teeth are perfect. Is that a dimple? Look at the muscles in his neck. The way his stomach muscles tighten when he laughs ain’t bad either. Shut up, vodka.

“Oh my god!” She squeals.

“What?”

“The Bodyguard is on!”

“Is it good?”

“Not at all. It’s so bad. We have to watch it and we’re gonna make fun of it.”

Steve chuckles at how excited she is. At least now he’ll understand the reference she made earlier. He hasn’t really watched bad movies intentionally, but it’s fun. He lets her set the rhythm of snide comments and finally joins in because the security tactics are ridiculous.

“He jumped at the car and didn’t even get anywhere near it. What was the point of that?”

“Because the movie is stupid!”

“She has an amazing singing voice.”

“Oh yeah, Whitney was one of the best. She died earlier this year.”

“That’s sad.”

The alcohol starts to wear on Nicolette and she feels more tired. She pulls her knees into her chest. She makes it to the end of the movie, but barely.

“No funny stuff, Captain Steve.”

“What funny stuff?”

She pokes her finger in and out of the hole she’s made with her other hand.

“My god.”

“Just saying. I’m not asking you on any dates.”

“That’s fine.”

“And no one is falling in love or getting shot.”

“Good plan.”

“C’mere.”

“Yeah?” Steve just looks at her.

“C’mere. C’mere. C’mere. I wanna tell you a secret.” She keeps waving until he’s sitting next to her. “Nic wouldn’t want you to know this, but she’s actually pretty worried. Tony’s all she’s got.”

Steve looks her over. It’s the first time he’s seen her be serious. Her hair has dried into soft waves and her big blue eyes are glassy from drink. He can see all the different shades of blue in her eyes. Her eyebrows are knitted together with concern. He can feel her breath on his face. She’s so close.

“I’m gonna make sure nothing happens to her.”

“You’re not so bad, Cap’n Crunch.”

Steve chuckles and gathers up the dishes. He cleans and puts everything away. When he comes back to the couch, she’s fast asleep. He grabs the blanket off the top of the couch to cover her. He shuts off the television and moves into one of the chairs before falling asleep.

Nicolette wakes up to the sun shining right through the window. Why is she sleeping on the couch? She looks over to the armchair and sees the sleeping form of Captain Steve Rogers reclining in it. She’s so surprised her heart nearly jumps out of her chest.

“Oh, shit!” She yelps and falls off the arm of the couch onto the floor. She lands on her side and hisses. Right, he’s her bodyguard and she had a lot of martinis. She isn’t hungover—she just forgot. She’s not used to Avengers sleeping in her living room.

“Miss Stark! Are you all right?” Steve asks, looming over her.

“Yep. Just getting to know my carpet choice.” She huffs, blowing the hair out of her face. “Soft. Durable. I made a good pick.”

She presses the heel of her palms into the said carpet and gets to her feet. She bows like she just performed a trick. He shakes his head.

“Wanna get breakfast?” She covers her yawn with her hand.

“You don’t have some robot to bring it to you?” He looks around, waiting for a lady J.A.R.V.I.S.

“Small staff.” She points to herself. “We can get a good spot at Betty’s. C’mon.”

Steve follows her up the stairs. She points to the first door on the right.

“Bathroom. And then the bedroom is next to it. I’ll be right down.”

Steve has a slight variation of his outfit from yesterday—jeans, sweater, and leather jacket. Aside from his input about the uniform with Howard, he’s more into function than fashion. That’s not Nicolette at all. She has on a blue sweater dress, black tights, and grey high-heeled boots that reach her thighs. Not that he’s looking at her thighs. They’re just very tall boots on a small person.

“You ready?” She asks, hands folded across her chest.

Steve nods and walks to the door. He almost grabs her coat for her, but he isn’t sure how she’d react to that. She’s been nicer than yesterday, but it might be a fluke.

On the walk to the restaurant, the different shops and restaurants are playing Christmas music. Steve really hasn’t spent a lot of effort on holidays. He woke up last October and since then, he’s been reckoning with missing out on so much time. It didn’t mean playing popular culture catch up.  Nicolette clearly knows her Christmas music. She does a little jump every time she likes a particular song before she starts to sing along. She seems to know every word and clearly loves music which is very cute. However, it slows them down and he’s not too keen on that. So far, there’s one about wanting someone to come home on Christmas which sounds rather sad, but the music isn’t, another about hula hoops that music be sung by children with squeaky voices, and one where a woman’s clearly seducing Santa for presents.

When they get to the restaurant, it’s not very busy with mostly single patrons and one group of three guys who look extremely hungover hunched over their coffees. Nicolette points to a table. Steve sees one of the men perk up at the sight of her, but either she doesn’t notice or she’s pretending as she slides into her booth. Steve sits down and can hear them talking about her. It’s not respectful in the slightest. They’re unsure which one of them should talk to her.

“Hey, baby,” one finally says.

Nicolette crosses her legs and ignores them, pretending to look at her phone. Okay, she does notice.

The waitress comes over with new table settings. She drops some silverware, so Nicolette hops up to help her.

“Oh, I’ve got it.” She shakes her head.

“I don’t mind.” Nicolette shrugs and hands her the ones that have touched the floor.

The guys don’t even hide the fact they’re checking her out. One even leans over to see if he can get a glance down the front of her dress. Steve clenches his fist and has half a mind to go over there.

“Damn, girl.” The guy grins.

The waitress thanks her and goes to put the dirty silverware away. Nicolette covers her mouth in an exaggerated yawn at the men.

“Not interested.” She sits back down.

“Just one smile. For Christmas.” Their leader pouts.

“Oh.” She flips them off with both hands. “Merry Christmas. Now, shut up and leave me alone.”

“Don’t need to be such a bitch, babe.” He laughs and nudges one of the guys.

Nicolette shakes her head at Steve who is ready to pounce.

“Just ignore them.” She props up her menu to block her vision of them. She looks over the options and it doesn’t take her long to realize she wants pancakes.

The waitress returns and Nicolette orders pancakes with a side of bacon. Steve orders a special that comes with three eggs, bacon, two pieces of toast, and fruit.  Thankfully, the most annoying patrons leave when the waitress stops by with their coffees.

“Thank you for your help earlier, darlin’.” She smiles.

“No worries.” Nicolette returns the smile.

“Your food should be up soon.” She nods and walks away.

“I’m sorry about those guys.” Steve takes a sip from his coffee.

“I wouldn’t be able to do my job if I couldn’t handle a man calling me a bitch.” Nicolette adds sugar in the raw to hers and a splash of milk.

He frowns. He still isn’t comfortable chatting up women, but he can’t fathom being that cruel. She told them flat out she wasn’t interested. How fragile were their egos?

He leans against the wall and sees more families come in. Nicolette notices his stoic expression and presses her much smaller shoulder into the wall. She narrows her eyes and checks out the different patrons.

“She’s very suspicious.” She nods to the toddler in the Cinderella sweater.

Steve raises his eyebrows slightly. He’s getting a little better at telling when she’s actually angry at him and when she’s just being playful. He believes this is the latter.

The waitress drops off their food and Nicolette makes her laugh.  She clearly has no problem talking to anyone. Tony is arrogant and cocksure because he needs adoration to fill some kind of hole. Nicolette doesn’t seem to need anything from anyone. She’s comfortable in her own skin in a way Steve’s never been. He’s a little jealous. Almost like she’s reading his mind, she moves her shoulders to the Christmas song playing above them in her own little world.

“C’mon, nothing?”

“I don’t know this.”

“It’s Stevie Wonder.”

“Is he good?”

“My god.” She puts her hand over her chest and gasps.

Steve sighs and picks up his fork.

They eat in awkward silence with her occasionally humming the song on the radio. When they get the bill, she pulls out her card before he’s able to do anything. She leaves a large cash tip before they walk out. She moves quicker on their walk back.

“You know, I haven’t seen the tree yet. Have you?”

“No.”

“Big touristy attraction’s safe, right?”

“Most likely.”

“We can take my car.”

“Good cause I need my shield.”

“So you can look like a spangly turtle?”

“Not exactly. Tony made something for it—helps it blend in.”

“Aw, I wanted to see it in all its dorky glory.”

She gives him a look and he’s sure—pretty sure—she’s kidding.

They go straight to the garage. Her car is a dark blue Audi sedan with black leather seats. It doesn’t seem to have all the bells and whistles like the cars Tony drives. He sets his shield in the backseat. She drives to President’s Park and finds a parking space. He takes out the shield and straps it to his back. He presses down on the button on the back of the shield and a metal case appears over it. Before Nicolette can comment, the case goes invisible. It definitely blends in now.

“So if you hit that button on accident—”

“It needs a specific amount of pressure before the case comes on.”

“Tony thinks of everything, I guess.” She shrugs and bounds ahead of him with excitement.

The tree is enormous and beautiful with all the intricately placed lights.  She smiles wide just looking at it.

“Christmas is your favorite holiday?”

“And Halloween.”

“Halloween? Isn’t it for kids?”

“There’s adult Halloween. Costumes. Drinks. Dancing.”

“Sounds like trouble.”

“Lots.”

She sings along again to the music playing and spins around. This time it’s a song about snow being like marshmallows. He hasn’t gotten used to this yet. Her voice is beautiful. He just isn’t used to people being so…joyful.

“Can you take a pic of me in front of the tree?” She hands him her phone. “It’s this button.”

Steve nods. She throws her arms around the tree like she’s hugging it which makes him chuckle. In the next one, she puts her hands right over her mouth like she’s in disbelief at how great the tree is. She comes back and looks through the photos.

“These are great, thanks. My ladies wanted to know what I was up to.”

“Your ladies?”

Her thumb swipes through the photos until she lands on one of her laughing with the same two women from the photos at her apartment.

“Jordan and I went to high school together.” She zooms in on the tall brunette with big brown eyes and a permanent smirk “She’s an actress.” Then she enlarges the photo of the petite brunette with stunning porcelain doll features. “Lucy’s a journalist. We met in college. Instant drunk girl in the bathroom bonding. Tony says we’re the Brunette Army.”

“It’s nice you’re all so close.”

She thinks about it for a moment. She could tell him Jordan wanted her to sleep with him.  That’d prove how nice she was. He’d go all red which would be hilarious, but she decides to keep it to herself. She chews her lip. She switches the camera to selfie view.

“C’mon. Take one with me to prove I didn’t blow them off.”

“I don’t know I don’t really—”

“Take photographs? C’mon. I won’t bite. I promise.”

Steve sighs and bends his shoulder towards her. He feels so awkward. He’s never been good at posing.

“Okay, try not to look like this is torture, please.”

He gives her a small close-mouthed smile. She raises her eyebrows and lets her mouth fall open to compensate for his lack of facial expressions. She knows that’s the best she’s gonna get and sends it to Lucy and Jordan.

“Need any more photos?”

“Nah. There’s that downtown market by the National Portrait Gallery. We could check that out?”

“Sure. No more running ahead of me though.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

She drives to F Street and struggles to find a parking spot. After some circling, she does find one in front of a clothing shop. Steve puts his shield back on and hits the button. He’s ready.

They walk to the holiday market and go in. There are all sorts of booths selling various merchandise, food, and drink. Nicolette gets hot cocoa in a decorative mug with a mountain of whipped cream. She dives right in damning all appearances.

“How do I look?”  Her mouth is covered.

Impossibly cute. Steve snatches a napkin from a booth and wipes the whipped cream off her nose and mouth.

“Aww, I thought that could be my new disguise.”

He raises his eyebrows and she giggles.

“You should work on your resting bitch face.”

“My what?”

She glares at him and he furrows his brow. Why is she mad?

“It’s like your regular face looks mean and bitchy.”

“Doesn’t sound like something I’d be interested in.”

“Not with those puppy dog eyes.”

She moves from booth to booth pleasant to all the vendors and asking questions about the different items they’re selling. She takes a moment to look at the handblown glass ornaments.

“Beautiful, huh?” She lifts a very detailed one with painted Christmas trees and shows it to him. She nudges it closer to him and he realizes this is the most time he’s spent with a woman outside of a mission. He suddenly becomes very aware of his posture and what he should and should not do with his hands.

“Yeah.” He takes it from her. The craftsmanship is gorgeous and it’s much easier to focus on this.

“Oh, look.” She points at the one of Central Park in the snow.  It reminds her of home and Tony. What was he doing right now? Was he safe? Her face falls for a moment before she smiles politely at the vendor and walks on. She clears her throat and suddenly her distraction isn’t working as well as it was earlier. Maybe she should eat something.

She finds a booth with all sorts of snacks and of course, they have Avengers cookies.  Steve hangs back and keeps an eye on things while she peruses the menu. She doesn’t see a Natasha or Clint cookie—only Thor, Hulk, Iron Man, and Captain America. She buys two misshapen shields and skips over to him.

“Isn’t this hilarious?” She shows him proudly.

“Wow. They’ve thought of everything.” He hands the cookie back.

“Oh, no, I got you one.” She grins. She spins around and sings a bit of that Captain America song. She doesn’t remember most of the lyrics, so it’s mostly nonsense sounds, but she knows the high kick. “Take the cookie and I’ll stop.”

“Okay.” He grabs the cookie from her. “How do you even know that?”

“4th of July show when I was 12.”

“That’s my birthday.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“No.”

“That’s hilarious. I know I’m not as good as Rocket Tits or any of the USO dancers.”

“You were fine.”

“The song is so bad.”

“Try hearing it non-stop for months.”

She grimaces and he smiles. She unwraps the cookie and bites into it. It’s lemon.

“Whaddaya think?” She covers her mouth with her hand.

“It’s sweet.” He swallows the large chunk he accidentally chewed off. “Anywhere else you wanna see?”

“Nah, should probably think about lunch cause that cookie did not help. Too much sugar.”

It’s when they’re leaving that Steve gets the strange sense something is off. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. She glances at him and can see his demeanor has changed. Her eyebrows knit together with concern.

“We’re being watched,” he whispers and takes the shield off his back, but keeps it hidden.

“What?” She nearly stops in her tracks.

“Keep moving. We need to get to your car.” He nudges her back slightly.

Her heartbeat thrums against her ribs as she walks faster. She doesn’t look behind her even though she really wants to. She wants to know what he sees. After the tensest ten-minute walk of her life, they spot her car. And that’s when Steve sees one of them on a rooftop. He presses down on the button and makes his shield visible.

“Get down!”

In one swift motion, he pulls her against his chest covering them with his shield. There’s a deafening boom as her car gets blown to pieces. She can feel the heat from the explosion on her face. A high-pitched whine rings in her ears and she looks up at him, shaking. He pulls down the shield. Terrified bystanders scatter while two men in grey jackets stand perfectly still amidst the chaos. Steve looks at her.

“Run.”

Her heart feels like it’s going to burst through her chest.  She sprints as fast as her legs can carry her into a clothing store past all the screaming people. She whips her head around looking for somewhere to hide. Mannequins lay on the floor along with shirts, pants, and other items of clothing. If she hides in one of the clothing racks then she’d be a sitting duck.

The door opens and she runs behind the cash register. A sharp pain tugs at her scalp as the man tries to lift her by her hair. She digs her thumb into his eye which makes him let go. She grabs the stapler and smashes it into his face.

“You bitch!” He hisses.

On the street, Steve throws his shield knocking the bastard back into a row of cars. He kicks the shield and flips it back onto his arm. The guy staggers to his feet and fires his gun. The bullets bounce off the shield until he’s empty. He swipes at Steve with his fists and Steve kicks him in the chest. His neck lands on the curb with a sickening crack. Panting, Steve looks around. Where is she?

Nicolette wretches a door open and locks it once she’s inside. It doesn’t look very strong, but it’s something.  Her head throbs from where he grabbed her. Think. Think. You can do this.

She sees a ladder against a window and climbs it.  It wobbles under her weight, but she can reach it. She groans and pulls up as hard as she can. It still won’t open.

The doorknob rattles as he tries in vain to get in.

“Come on.” She pleads, trying the window again.

There’s a groan of frustration followed by a thump on the door. Tears are slipping down her face. He keeps kicking the door. She gets down from the ladder and looks for a place to hide. She crouches down behind a stack of boxes. Her body shakes and her hand clamps over her mouth to muffle her sobs. With her other hand, she gropes around her for something—anything she can use to protect herself. She finds a boxcutter.

She can hear the wood breaking and clutches the boxcutter to her chest. He bursts through and she shoves a cart at him before making a break for the back door. She’s almost there when her chest smacks into the carpet. Blood gushes from a cut on her nose. He drags her by the ankle to him. She cries out as pain washes over her— intense, throbbing pain. Her vision doubles and she blinks trying to snap out of it.

“Little lady wasn’t supposed to be this much trouble.” He hoists her up by her shoulders. “Guess Stark will have to weep over the mess.”

She bites down on his hand and he drops her. She snatches the boxcutter off the ground, pushes the blade up, and plunges them deep into his thigh. He yells. She screams and crawls away from him. He flips her onto her back with such force it knocks all the air out of her lungs. The boxcutter is out of his leg and there’s a small knife in his hand. He presses down on her throat with his forearm. She grabs hold of his wrist, but she’s not strong enough. Her legs flail around trying to kick him, but it’s useless. She sobs for her life, but he doesn’t care. The knife gets closer and closer to her chest. I’m going to die.

The door swings open and the shield hits him in the head. Steve tosses the would-be assassin into the ceiling cracking the fluorescent lights. He gets back up. Steve pushes his foot on the boxcutter and sends it further into his thigh. The man jabs his fist into Steve’s nose and they trade blows. He grabs Steve by the throat. She spies the knife on the ground. Immediately, Nicolette stabs the man in the shoulder and he screams, loosening his grip. Steve rips the knife from the wound and drives it into his chest; exactly what he wanted to do to her. It’s over.

“Miss Stark?” Steve can see the blood caked on her hairline as he picks up his shield. There are cuts on her face including one on her nose that’s still dripping blood.

“What happened to the other guy?” Her entire body shakes. She’s not sure if it’s adrenaline or fear.

“He’s dead.”

“Good.”

“He didn’t cut you, did he?”

“No, just knocked me around.”

“Thank you, Miss Stark.”

She stares at him. He’s thanking her?

“For stepping in with the knife. You saved me.”

“Me? Nah, I didn’t—“

“You did.”

Nicolette nods and starts walking out to the street. Steve has half a mind to pick her up and carry her out, but he knows she won’t like that. She fought her attacker tooth and nail without any training. He can’t believe that.

A gorgeous, tall, professional woman with dark hair and blue eyes approaches them once they walk out of the store.

“Miss Stark, I’m Agent Maria Hill. Nick Fury sent me.”

“H-Hi.” Nicolette hates that she’s still shaking.

“I’m guessing he didn’t work alone.” Hill nods her head to the body bag on the ground.

“His partner’s in there, dead.” Steve points to the store.

“Agent Mendez, escort Captain Rogers and Miss Stark back to the Triskelion. They’re gonna need medical attention.”

Steve guides Nicolette to the car as S.H.I.E.L.D. starts damage control. She wonders if they have one of those Men in Black memory guns.

The Triskelion building is massively intimidating that sits on the Potomac River. She always wondered what that building was when she drove past it on the highway. Steve’s large hand takes hers to help her out of the car. She wonders if her skin is freezing or if he is on fire. She doesn’t dwell on it because he lets go as they enter the building and get in an elevator. Her head throbs now that the adrenaline fades away.

A team of medics swarms her the minute the doors open. She whips her head around and sees Steve look back before being lead down another hallway.

It’s a one-half medical exam and one-half interrogation. She doesn’t really like being questioned in a hospital gown, but she doesn’t have a choice especially when they cut her out of her sweater dress. They want to know what happened from her point of view while tending to the cuts on her face and body.

“He was on top of you with a knife? And then Captain Rogers came in?”

“Yes. I thought it was over f-for me.”

“Who killed your attacker?”

“I stabbed him in the shoulder and then Captain Rogers did it.”

“You have a lot of defensive wounds.”

“Fucker blew up my car. I wasn’t gonna make it easy for him.”

“Thankfully, most of your cuts are superficial. You do have a concussion and some bruising on your ribs.”

“Oh.”

“Thor left us a healing elixir and we’ve managed to synthesize it. It would speed up your healing. Would you like to take it?”

“Will it make the pain stop?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take it.”

The medic hands her a vial of purple liquid. It burns like whiskey and she coughs deeply.  She rubs her chest.

“Get dressed and I’ll meet you outside.” The medic places a bag on the examination table and walks out.

Nicolette takes out a grey zip-up hoodie, a white shirt, and a pair of black sweatpants. She’s surprised there isn’t a S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on any of it. Maybe it’s in the stealth section of the gift shop. She winces through the pain but gets her new clothes on. She doesn’t have any other shoes, so she has to wear her boots. Tony never thought she could run in them and she proved him wrong. She hopes she can see him soon to rub it in his face. She falters realizing this is the first time she hasn’t thought she’d see him again. She takes a deep breath and opens the door.

“Captain Rogers and Director Fury are in here.” The medic walks her down the hallway and leaves.

Nicolette knocks, feeling sheepish. She’s never been in a secret government facility.

“Come in,” calls a voice she doesn’t really know. That has to be Fury. She’s only heard about him from Tony.

A Black man with an eyepatch sits at a table with Steve.

“Nick Fury. You’ve had quite the day, Miss Stark.”

“Yeah. I don’t think I can put ‘nearly murdered’ on my car insurance claim form.”

“Due to the seriousness of all this, we need you to stay at one of our safe houses.”

“I can’t go back to my place?”

“We want to do a sweep and keep an eye on it. Just for a few days.”

“Is the safe house as subtle as this place?”

“We just want to keep you safe, Miss Stark.” Steve finally speaks up.

Nicolette folds her hands together and nods. They’re right.

“What about my clothes? I can’t go back and get those? I need different shoes.”

“Agent Hill’s at your apartment. I’ll make sure she gets you shoes.”

They thought of everything.

“When do we leave?”

It doesn’t take Hill very long to get her a go-bag and pick up Steve’s from her apartment. They’re going to the Blue Ridge Mountains. Steve’s driving which is fine with her. He turns the radio on to some Christmas station hoping it’ll cheer her up. He looks at her and she shakes her head before shutting it off.  She hugs herself and turns her head away. Her vision blurs with tears as she takes in the beautiful mountains, trees, and snow. She’s quiet for the entire two-hour drive and it’s a little eerie considering how lively she usually is.

Steve goes into the house first to make sure they’re really alone; they are. Nicolette stays quiet as they walk into the cabin. It’s very secluded. She walks upstairs and takes an empty bedroom. She wishes she could be in her own bed.

“Can I take a shower?” Her voice is soft.

“I’ll see what our food situation is.” Steve nods.

He lets Fury know they arrived safely after he finds the secure phone. There are some SAT phones and bugs in the place. He promises to turn them back on when they go to bed. Right now, he has a feeling she doesn’t want anyone listening to her while she’s still processing all this. She deserves some rest. He sees the fridge stocked with food for three days. He expected something frozen, but they’re all properly cooked meals in Tupperware. He figures he’ll ask her what she wants.

She turns the shower on and lets the strong water pressure hit her back. There are small bottles of shampoo, body wash, and soap almost like a hotel. Even though they wiped her down, she scrubs viscously at her skin and hair until she’s red all over. She needs all traces gone. She keeps seeing herself on her back with that man over her. She was so defenseless and she hated every second of it. She wants to stay in the shower for the rest of the night, but the water turns cold. She hops out and shuts the shower off. There is a small bottle of lotion in her bag and she inhales the cherry blossom scent deeply.  At least that feels normal. She slips into a sweater, sweatpants, and adds a hoodie. It’s much colder here than back in DC.

There’s a knock on the door. She opens it and sees Steve.

“You didn’t want the main bedroom?” He gestures behind him.

“No. This is fine.” She sighs.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower. Could you look in the fridge? I wasn’t sure what you’d want for dinner.”

“I don’t really care. I mean—whatever’s fine.”

“Okay, well, I’ll be right out. Miss Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“You choose tonight and I’ll pick tomorrow, okay?” He raises his eyebrows.

She stuffs her hands in her pockets and nods. She might as well give herself a tour while he’s showering. There are two bedrooms in between one bathroom. The downstairs consists of a foyer, kitchen, and living room with a fireplace, and a half bathroom. So much for killing time. She goes to the kitchen and looks at the different options. It’s all standard American meals like ham, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, stuffed chicken breast and roasted potatoes, and chicken pot pie. There’s also lunch meat and cheese. She wonders who makes the food at S.H.I.E.L.D. for these situations. She thought they’d have to cook—not that she’s very good at it. She grabs the ham and finds the plates to heat everything in the microwave. In the pantry, she finds cereal, peanut butter, chips, and hot chocolate packets and finally the napkins she’s looking for. She sets the small table and fills up two water glasses from the tap.  Steve comes down the stairs as she sits down.

“Oh, good, just what I wanted.” He smiles.

Nicolette stabs a carrot with her fork. Steve bows his head and she realizes he’s praying. She tilts her head.

“What?”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for being religious.”

“Habit at this point. My mom was the committed one.”

“Catholic?”

“Protestant. How about you?”

“Well, Tony thinks he’s god. Raised Lutheran from my nana. Now, agnostic, I guess. I don’t really know.”

“Yeah, not the best dinner conversation.”

“It’s okay—I mean I brought it up.”

Nicolette goes back to eating. Whoever they paid to make it definitely knew how to cook.

“This is good.” She covers her mouth with her hand.

“Much better than anything we had in the ‘40s. It was very bland.”

“Wow, that sucks. I like some spice.”

“You definitely would’ve hated it.”

Nicolette raises her eyebrows. He thought that might make her laugh. She just looks back at her food.

“Did they give you anything to eat at the Triskelion?”

“Wasn’t really hungry after all…that.”

“Yeah, adrenaline’ll do that to you.”

She nods and swirls her mashed potatoes around her fork.

The conversation dries up after that. Maybe he should’ve told her to stay home. Though considering they put a bomb on her car, they would’ve found a way to attack her. He wishes he knew what to say. He actually prefers when she’s intentionally frustrating him as opposed to this silence.

When they finish, she insists on washing the dishes and lets him dry. Her hand shakes and the fork falls on the hardwood floor.

“Shit.” She picks it up and drops it again. She straights up and it falls from her fingers a third time. “Goddamn it.”

“C’mon, let’s sit.” Steve shuts off the water.

“I wanna finish.”

Steve washes the fork and gives it to her with the towel. She dries it and puts it back.

“Now, can we sit?”

“Yeah.”

He guides her to the couch in the living room. Her muscles are all wound up and tight.

“Does this hurt?” His finger taps the spot between her shoulder blades.

“It’s sore.” She sighs. “Shower didn’t help as much as I thought.”

Her fingers rub circles on the spot trying to loosen it up, but she can only do so much. He worries she’ll make it worse with all that reaching and straining.

“Can I?” Steve keeps his hands in his lap.

“Uh, yeah.” Nicolette brushes her hair to the other side of her neck and turns her back to him.

His thumbs press into her shoulders. It feels good. She bites back a sigh not wanting to make it awkward.

“That okay?” Steve doesn’t give out many massages especially to beautiful women. He feels the knot in between her shoulder blades and rubs it with his palm.

“Mhmm.” She breathes in sharply.

It feels so nice her mind goes silent. She can feel the warmth from his hands burning through her hoodie. How is he so warm all the time? She relaxes into his touch completely unaware of how nervous he is or the fact he has no idea what he’s doing. Underneath all these muscles, he’s still the most awkward man on the planet.

“I’m always tense after a fight.” He rubs the back of her neck.

A fight? The tears burn in her eyes and she pulls away.

“Did I do something, Miss Stark?” His brow furrows with concern.

“I’m sorry.” She stifles a sob with her hand.

Steve rubs his hands on his thighs with nervous energy. He isn’t sure what to do here. Obviously, he wants to comfort her, but they don’t really know each other. Should he say something? Should he hug her? Should he leave her alone?

“When Tony started being Iron Man, I was in college. And I was in Tokyo for the Battle of New York. I wasn’t a part of it.”

Steve realizes now that Tony kept her from them for her safety. He wanted her to be spared from all this. He was being a good brother. Tony must really trust him and Natasha to ask them to keep an eye on his beloved little sister. He hasn’t really done a great job considering how traumatized she is right now.  She turns and faces him.

“I was so rude to you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Miss Stark—“

“I thought everyone was overreacting. It was easier to pretend I was just a rich bitch.”

Steve saw a bit of that in Tony in May. He has the feeling that the Stark household didn’t discuss feelings too much.

“I thought he was gonna kill me. I saw that knife and I couldn’t stop him. I thought it was over.” She sobs.

When she lifts her head and looks at him with those tear-filled blue eyes, he wants to hug her. She shouldn’t be feeling like this. She isn’t fighting anyone or going on a mission. She’s just trying to live her life. It’s not fair.

“Thank you, Captain Rogers. You saved my life.”

“You don’t have to—it’s Steve. And I’m sorry he even got that close, Miss Stark.”

Nicolette wipes her eyes and shakes her head. He didn’t do anything wrong.

“Nicolette. Or Nic or Nikki. Just don’t call me Pip.”

“Who calls you that?”

“Tony. Pip as in Pip Squeak.”

“Well, you are small.”

“How tall were you before all this?”

“5’4’’.”

“Goddamn it, still taller than me.”

Steve laughs. He’s never been so happy to hear someone curse. It only lasts for a moment before the panic sets in. Her body trembles and he takes her hand. It’s so small it practically disappears in his.

“How can I help?”

“Just start talking about something.”

“Like what?”

“Anything. Y-You. Talk about you.”

“You’re not tired of the legend of Captain America?”

She catches the disdain in his voice. She thought he was super into being the All-American hero, but maybe not. She leans back against the couch, wipes her eyes, and looks at him. She puts her hand on her chest to feel her breathing.

“Tony couldn’t fucking stand you cause Howard talked about you all the time. I saw a photo with his stuff.  School taught us that you volunteered for a project and you got all jacked. You crashed a plane and everybody thought you died. To be honest, Captain America wasn’t my favorite part of history. I was way more into the Civil Rights Movement.”

“Sorry I was so boring.”

“Well, dude, America is not that great, lemme tell ya. So learning about the symbol of America was not my thing.”

Steve just nods, not knowing what to say.

“But so far, this Steve Rogers dude ain’t so bad. Um, so where were you born?”

“Brooklyn.”

“Oh, bridge and tunnel guy.”

“Yeah.”

“Were your parents super patriotic?”

“I didn’t know my dad. He died in the Great—I mean World War I. I was raised by my mom. She was an Irish immigrant.”

A  real smile forms on his lips when he talks about his mom. It’s sweet.

“What was her name?”

“Sarah.”

“That’s pretty.”

“She was tough. Had to be. She was a nurse.”

“Okay, pretty rad. Badass single mom in the ’20’s and ’30’s. What did she think of your transformation?”

“She, uh, didn’t see it. She died when I was 18. TB.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Bucky got me through it.”

“Bucky?”

“James Buchanan Barnes. He was my best friend. Til he died on a mission.”

She frowns.

“Everyone is gone, really. Except Peggy.”

“You mean Director Carter?”

“You know her?”

“I think I met her like three times.”

“I didn’t want her to see me on television and be confused.”

“Oh, Steve.”

He looks at her. His name sounds foreign on her lips. Not wrong, but different.

“Your life sounds really lonely.” She blinks back tears.

Steve doesn’t know what to say. His life is lonely. He just hadn’t heard anyone say it aloud before—other than S.H.I.E.L.D.’s shrink.

She closes her eyes and sees that man.  She feels a wave of panic wash over her. Immediately, Steve puts his hands on her arms grounding her. Her heart is beating so fast.

“Deep breaths like me.”

She copies his breathing until she feels normal and pulls back. Tears slip down her face. She hates crying this much.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He tucks her brown hair behind her ear.

Her big blue eyes are dark like sapphires. They were the first thing he noticed about her. They’re still sparkling even with the tears.  Her gaze stays locked on him. His eyes have a little green in them and they’re so bright like the sea in the Caribbean. He’s being so kind. He’s just naturally kind. She gives him a small smile that he returns instantly.

Deep in her stomach, there’s a gravitational pull leading her forward. She leans in at the same time he does. His lips ghost over hers. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Her lips are so soft. The floral scent of her lotion fills his nose. It smells so good. Her mouth moves against his with more urgency. She runs her hand down his neck. They break apart only for air before he gives her another chaste kiss. He cups her face and his calloused thumb tickles her skin. They pull apart and suddenly, the spell is broken. She tucks her hair behind her ears.

“I-I’m sorry. That’s so embarrassing.”

“No, I’m sorry. You’re upset and I—“

“You didn’t— My emotions are everywhere and you and the holding and just— you—I’m sorry.”

“We both are. Sorry. I mean. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay. It just—”

“Happened.” Nicolette nods and scoots away from him. She still feels the tingle on her lips and covers them with her hand.

“Are you cold? I think I’m gonna start a fire.” He coughs and stands up. Great job, Steve. The first woman you kiss since you got out of the ice and it’s Tony Stark’s sister. The person you’re supposed to be taking care of. Thank God the bugs are turned off. How would you explain that to Fury? He sighs. He’s gonna feel stupid if he apologizes again, so instead, he puts a few logs in the fireplace and strikes a match.

“Yeah, fire sounds good. Not like fire, but like a fire.” She takes a deep breath. Just shut the fucking fuck up, Nic. Tony cannot find out about this. He’s gonna be so mad. This dude is trying to keep you safe and you jump him. Poor guy is so polite he probably didn’t know what hit him. Look, he’s gone through three matches trying to light this goddamn fire. All cause of you. She didn’t mean to just kiss him. She wasn’t Jordan. This wasn’t a big ruse. “Um, they don’t get TV here, right? Wouldn’t be a very safe safe house if Comcast knew where the safe house was,” she rubs her hands together certain she said “safe" way too many times.

“Uh, yeah, but I think there are some movies if you wanna watch something,” Steve clears his throat. The fire finally starts and Nicolette walks over to the entertainment center. She pulls open the drawer. She realizes she doesn’t really know any of these movies. They’re all black and white. She likes some classic films, but she isn’t a film buff.

“C’mon, S.H.I.E.L.D. where’s the holiday spirit?” She goes back to the couch.

“Hey, movies I know.” Steve laughs, surprised. “Do you like these kinds of films?”

“What I’ve seen, yeah.”

“Going to the movies was one of my favorite things to do before the war.”

“I haven’t seen a lot. It’s a Wonderful Life.  The Wizard of Oz. How to Steal a Million. Charade. Rebecca. Butterfield 8.”

“I don’t know a lot of those, but I liked The Wizard of Oz and Rebecca. You might like this one. It’s a comedy. About a woman and a man trying to wrangle a leopard.”

“Hilarious.”

“it is. Wanna give it a try?”

“Sure.”

Steve stares at the television not sure how to do this. Nicolette grabs the remotes from the console on the couch. She turns on the TV and opens the DVD player. Steve slides the disc in.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He takes one end of the couch and she takes the other. They both stare at the screen as the movie starts. Right away, she starts laughing as Cary Grant seeks refuge from the chaos Katharine Hepburn brings upon him and Steve relaxes. By the middle of the film, they no longer have such great distance between them and neither of them notices.

“Where is Baby?” Nicolette hugs her knees to her chest, rocking with nervous energy.

“Don’t worry.” Steve laughs.

“Shut up. I don’t want spoilers.” She nudges him on the shoulder.

“Apologies your majesty.” He puts his hands up.

She rolls her eyes and he smirks. She laughs at all the right moments and he does his best not to watch her watching the film.  When it’s over, he puts the movie away and sits back down on the couch.

“You were right. That was really funny.”

“Glad you liked it. You ready to go to bed?

“I’m not really tired yet.”

He looks over at her knowing she has to be exhausted. Still, she gets up and puts another movie in.

“Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant again, right?” She shows him the case.

“Yeah. They’re divorced in this one though.” He stands up. “You start it. I’ll be right back.”

She nods and sits back down on the couch. He finds the bugs he shut off earlier and turns them back on along with the outdoor cameras. Everything is locked and secure. When he comes back, she’s wrapped in a blanket covered from her neck down to her feet.

“Found these in the closet. I left one for you.”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“You’re hot—you run hot?” She licks her lips and turns back to the TV. You are such an idiot, she thought.

“Yeah, serum stuff.” He acts like the slip-up didn’t happen.

“You don’t overheat?

“Not really, no.”

“I’m always cold.”

“Yeah cause you’re all skin and bones.” He remembers he could never get warm before the serum.

She rolls her eyes and looks at the screen.

“Aw, it’s George Bailey.”

“Who?”

“That guy he’s in It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“Oh, you mean Jimmy Stewart.”

“Okay, nerd.” Her foot nudges his thigh playfully which makes Steve laugh.

“I haven’t seen that one.”

“It must’ve come out when you were pulling a Snow White.”

He chuckles. That joke he got.

By the middle of the movie, she’s asleep. More accurately, her head rests inches away from his shoulder on the back of the couch.

“Miss Stark—Nicolette.” He corrects himself. “You’re asleep. We should go upstairs.”

She pushes her face further into the couch. Does she have to be so cute?

“‘M okay here.”

“Won’t it be more comfortable in bed?”

She shakes her head a little too quickly. That’s why she wanted to stay up. She’s scared. He just nods and she moves to another end of the couch. He shuts off the television and grabs the blanket she got him. He drifts off to the soft sounds of her breathing.

The sun streams in and hits Steve right in the eyes. He groans and turns his head. He looks down and sees Nicolette curled into his chest. He starts sweating immediately. He knows Bucky would’ve enjoyed this. Maybe too much. He clears his throat loudly. Her big eyes look up at him and widen as she realizes.

“Shit.” She jumps off of him and he scrambles back so fast he falls onto the floor. She bolts up the stairs and closes the door behind her. Her hand twists the faucet on and she splashes cold water on her face. She licks her lips and tries to remember. They watched a movie. It was funny. They started another movie and she fell asleep. She didn’t wanna be alone, so they slept on the couch. Fuck! They kissed. She was upset and he was sweet and she just kissed him. And he kissed her back. And they kept kissing. His lips were so soft and so gentle. The way he touched her face. That was so stupid. Stop thinking about it.

Steve gets off the floor. He tries not to dwell on the fact that she woke up next to him and ran away.  Or that she looked so beautiful he could’ve kissed her again. No. No more kissing, he reminds himself. She was a nice girl—woman—definitely a woman. He needs to get ready for the day. He reviews the footage and only sees animals moving around the house at night. He reports to Fury that the first night went by fine. They haven’t seen anyone come to her apartment, but they’re still keeping an eye on it. He goes into the kitchen to get started on breakfast.

Nicolette enters the kitchen in a sweater and jeans. Thank God she didn’t have many clothes so she didn’t have the luxury of indecisively changing outfits for an hour. She feels so awkward. She’s hyper-aware of every movement she makes. Steve puts a bowl of cereal in front of her.

“There’s not a lot in the pantry.” He says apologetically.

“No worries.” She shrugs. “Thanks.”

She digs in with her spoon and watches as he stays next to the island.

“Did you wanna sit?” She covers her mouth with her hand and kicks the seat across from her at the table.

“I’m good standing. Standing’s good.” Steve wants to punch himself in the face. Instead, he starts in on his cereal.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Hm?”

“Running away. It’s a new place and you’re a new—It wasn’t personal.”

“Right. It’s fine.”

“Cool.”

They eat in silence for the longest ten minutes of their lives.

“Did they find anything at my place?”

“Not yet. They’ll be watching it until we can go back.”

“Okay. Is there any coffee?”

“Yes!”

Steve brings her a mug.

“I didn’t know how you liked it.”

“Thanks. I can do it.”

She cleans her bowl before putting it back. Then she grabs some milk out of the fridge and pours in a splash and adds some sugar.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

She wanders back into the living room with her mug and finds a bunch of different books on the coffee table. She might as well read. She takes a random one on Amelia Earhart and sits down.

Steve finishes up eating and decides to get dressed. He comes down in a sweatshirt and sweatpants ready to do some exercise. He starts with pull-ups in the doorway with a metal bar he found in the garage. She keeps her eyes on the printed word until he removes the sweatshirt. She’s never seen his bare arms before and the tank top does not hide anything. Her eyes follow as he moves up and down. He’s not focused on her at all which is good because she’s staring like a hormone-driven teenager. To be fair, it’s not every day that a gorgeous specimen does work out routines before her eyes. He’s like CGI but real. He was supposed to be a hot but incredibly boring grandpa. Why did he have to turn out to be a decent guy instead of a pain in the ass? Why did he have to kiss like a prince in a fairytale? Get it together, woman.  She flips the page and takes a sip of her coffee.

Steve looks over at her. She drops her book and leans over the couch arm to grab it. Her chest is pressed into the couch and she has to be wearing a V neck, so the amount of cleavage is unfair.  He realizes what he’s doing and closes his eyes, so he isn’t leering at her like those guys at the restaurant. When he opens them, she’s back to reading and biting her lip in concentration. Her pink tongue runs over the groove created by her teeth and he just stares, unable to move. She brushes her hair away from her neck. Her skin is perfect.  He wonders if her skin is as soft as her lips. He looks down and fixes his pants. You are so embarrassing. She’s not even doing anything. Barton’s right; he needs to sleep with someone. Someone who isn’t related to Tony Stark. Someone he isn’t assigned to protect. He drops to the floor to do push-ups and settle down. Things were so much easier when they weren’t getting along. He could be annoyed by her and focus on his responsibilities.

Nicolette has read the same sentence about Amelia’s childhood about seven times because of all the sighs he’s making on the floor. Granted, the book isn’t exciting, but does he have to make those noises? She can see every ripple in his back and she shifts in her seat. She can hear Jordan’s voice in her head telling her how she could pass the time by fucking him instead of reading that book. She closes her eyes. What is she? A cat in heat? This is not how adults behave. He stands up and clears his throat. She looks over at him trying not to focus on the chords of his neck and veins in his arms or how badly she wants to drag her teeth over them. Wow, it’s really been too long. Jordan wasn’t wrong when she said she needed to get laid.  She’s taking out all her sexual frustration on this poor guy. Finally, he speaks.

“Would you wanna get some air? I—“

“Hell yes.” She stands up.

“Uhh okay. We could explore the property a bit?”

“Absolutely! Let’s go outside.”

At this point, she’s ready to roll around in the snow. She feels dirty for all her staring. Is this how Jordan feels all the time? No. She has no shame. She would’ve come downstairs in panties and spread her legs. She’s about as subtle as a porno.

Nicolette meets him outside in her parka and boots. Steve grabs the satellite phone for emergencies and starts walking. She follows behind him. Steve doesn’t really know where he’s walking, but it’s beautiful and he makes sure he knows how to get back. Growing up, it was an effort to explore the city with Bucky, but he did it all the same. It wasn’t until he got to the Army that he did any real traveling and still, that didn’t involve exploring the wilderness for leisure. It’s beautiful. Shuttling from two different cities she doesn’t get out to nature much. She’s very much a born and raised city girl, so this is really new to her. It’s absolutely gorgeous despite the cold. Steve turns his head and looks behind him at the sound of Nicolette humming.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I’m so annoying. I didn’t realize I was doing it.”

Steve shakes his head. That’s not why he asked. Her voice is so pretty he doesn’t think she owes anyone an apology for hearing it.

“What’s the song?”

“Oh, you know, the John Denver song.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Right.‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’. It’s about these mountains and West Virginia. I think it’s their song.”

“How does it go?”

Nicolette laughs and shakes her head. Steve tilts his head.

“I wanna know.”

“You have how many days left with me? I’ve sung way too much.”

“I like your voice.”

The look on his face can only be described as puppy dog eyes. She presses her lips together trying to hide her smile.

“Please.”

“I only know a bit.”

“That’s fine.”

She pats the side of her coat to keep time and clears her throat before singing.

“Almost heaven. West Virginia. Blue Ridge Mountains. Shenandoah River. Something something. Something I don’t know.”

She bops her head through the lyrics she can’t remember. He doesn’t care. It sounds lovely. She takes a deep breath and he catches her gaze. She smiles.

 “Country roads, take me home to the place I belong. West Virginia. Mountain Mama. Take me home, country roads.”

“Thank you.” Steve claps.

Nicolette pulls on her hood to hide her face. He doesn’t understand why she’s bashful all of the sudden. He met her when she was singing in a packed theater for a national stage. She walks on ahead and shakes off the awkwardness. Performing for Tony was a one-off. It was special. This just made her feel weird because she didn’t want it to sound bad, but she didn’t want to show off. She stops as they reach a cliffside.

“Wow.”

They look out at all the tall trees and mountains stretched out across the horizon. It’s breathtaking. It gives her a reality check in the best way. She has no thoughts or worries as she looks at the grey rock and blue trees covered in white. She’s just here. Steve thinks it’s stunning and he’s glad he gets to see it.  They soak it in.

“It’s beautiful,” he says after a long silence.

“Yeah, it is.” She breathes in sharply.

He waits until she turns away to say anything more.

“Did you want to keep going? We’re about 4 miles from the cabin."

“Ew, oh my god. If we don’t go back now, I will not make it.”

“Want me to carry you back?”

He’s smirking and she glares at him, narrowing her eyes.

“No, I don’t need you to carry me.”

“Are you sure? Your legs are pretty short.”

She swats him on the arm.

“Oh, fuck off, dude.”

He arches an eyebrow and she sprints away. She rests her arms on her knees and bends over. He almost touches her shoulder to see if she’s okay when she shoves a pile of snow in his face.  She cackles. He scoops up the snow and dumps it on her head. She growls and makes a snowball launching it at his chest. He throws one at her and she yelps, dashing off. He looks around for her and doesn’t see her. As he turns his head, he gets hit in the face with another snowball. She giggles and gets him again.

“That’s it!” He runs after her and lifts her off her feet. She wiggles and he loses his footing. He slips on the snow and they both fall back. She lands on top of him. Wasting no time, she sprinkles snow in his face and hood.

“That’s what you get! Eat snow, Rogers.” She laughs.

Steve looks up at her and the air shifts. He stops smiling and keeps his eyes locked onto hers. Nicolette breathes heavily and doesn’t move. Her eyes flicker from his mouth to his eyes. He waits with bated breath. She rolls off him and stands up.

“We should probably head back.” He dusts his gloves off on his jeans.

“Yeah. ” She nods. Her cheeks are flushed, but she’s not so sure it’s from the cold.

[nationalharryleague]

Two for the Show

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

Genre: Famous Fake Dating! 

Word Count: 17.1k!

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

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

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

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

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

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

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

But something kept holding her back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

“I see,” she mused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His response came only seconds later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really good job, kiddos.

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

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

Fans took notice and loved it.

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

The fans loved that too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We have to celebrate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

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

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

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

“What a dirtbag.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

“Noted.”

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

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

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

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

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

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

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

“Rude-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was her best friend.

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

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

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome, love.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

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

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

He was always in hers.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

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

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

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

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

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

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

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

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

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

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

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

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

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

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

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She could never say no to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

There he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t remember anything?”

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

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

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

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