#sherlock vibes or maybe just british show vibes
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Lockwood & Co without context
#lockwood & co#sherlock vibes or maybe just british show vibes#martin mystery#the ectoplasm#investment = asset#Lockwood got his flirting style from Kaz#danny phantom#Trio best friends and ghosts#six of crows#sherlock bbc#molly hooper
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just a quick theory on what the symbolism between the four white men in BES is in this photo, and what I think they will be like in season 2.
warning: spoilers for Blue Eye Samurai
first, we start with Skeffington. Which is most likely the tall, lanky one in the middle. Fowler told Mizu that she has the height of Skeffington, which is why the shadow figure in the middle is most likely Skeffington. Even though we haven’t seen him, or heard much of him, I feel like he’s going to be an absolute maniac. Like, fresh out of the insane asylum maniac. I also feel like he’s going to have slender man vibes. Just imagine, a tall, slender guy with long arms chasing you down a hall way. He’s probably going to be the most eerie and creepy of the four.
second, we have Fowler. I can’t very well tell which one is Fowler, but I think he’s the one on the right (next to Skeffington), considering that Fowler is known for his broad and hulk-like physique. Fowler has the same rage and overall insane amount of strength as Mizu does, but even with these qualities I don’t believe Fowler is her father. At the end of ep 8, he seems to recognize Mizu. As if he had seen her when she was really little. In the next season, He could know who her father is and use it just to lead her on a wild goose chase, or he could be like a Doctor Watson with Sherlock Holmes trying to solve a case. There are many ways this could pan out. I also believe he could die eventually next season, he may have one of those quick, yet accidental deaths of a villain where they quite don’t focus on their death, but rather the task the main character is trying to complete (if that makes any sense).
third, Routley. He is the one on the left, being short and stubbly. Like I said with Fowler, I can’t be too sure this is Routley or Fowler. He is described to have “pretty eyes” like Mizu’s, but unfortunately with the shadowy figures, they don’t present his eyes very well. I could only imagine him as a British Lil’ Gideon. If you watched gravity falls when you were younger, you know what I mean. That’s all I have to say. Enjoy a British Lil’ Gideon running around in your brain.
Lastly, there is Violet. He is the figure on the very right, which seems to be crouched and has antlers. I haven’t figured out what the antlers nor the crouching position could mean, since unfortunately, the show reveals little to nothing of violet. We haven’t even heard what part of him Mizu has “inherited” that could allow us to assume he is even her father, unless I missed something. (please let me know if I did miss anything. if you have any information on violet, your input will be much appreciated). Violet was killed offscreen by Mizu, maybe after the incident with her husband and fake mother. He may come back as a surprise villain, revealing that he never actually died, which would be likely. I doubt they will leave Violet out of the show, and simply use him as an offscreen killing. I feel like he was probably more of a humble man, who was not quite as devious, violent or vulgar as the other three. He probably only was interested in the business then the actual products, such as the prostitutes. Of course I could be wrong with my assumptions, but this is all just a theory, a GAME THEORY! (Rip game theory, we’ll miss u)
#mizu blue eye samurai#blue eye samurai s1#abijah fowler#Skeffington#Routley#Violet#Four white men#Mizu#Mizu blue eye samurai
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I wrote a long-ass reply to a comment and hit the character limit (why, me, why) so I'm making it a post now.
^this is a blurry snip screenshot. I feel like there is a better way to do this but I still don't know what it is so here you go.
Europeans assuming they know everything about America b/c they've seen U.S. TV, movies, and major headlines, maybe?
Or, maybe it's actually about the prestige and wealth Americans often associate with Britishness (Queen's English, European accents, fancy high tea, English literary classics, and popular historical romances set in Europe, the vague concept of royalty, etc). It could be that the Americans have an exaggerated respect for the Brits and consequently care about representing them more than they would for other cultures?
Also, if Euro accents & media are less commonly seen & familiar to Americans than US accents & media are to Brits, maybe Americans are more inclined to view national character & British vibes as an essential part of the show? B/c it stands out more.
I think the scarcity of Korea-picking, & iirc even more scarcity of Japan-picking, supports the prestige idea, but the presence of absence of language barriers might complicate that. It could be that Korea- and Japan-picking is less common than Brit-picking just because there are fewer potential pickers hanging out in English language fan spaces. But I do think there is more Korea-picking than Japan-picking. But Korean and Japanese media might also differ in what percentage of the fanbase consists of children or teens who might care less about -picking in general, too.
You know what, it would definitely actually vary a lot by specific fandom, for all nationalities.
For example, Sherlock Holmes fans are gonna often care about Brit-picking, but I suspect book or otherwise non-BBC Sherlock fans specifically might care even more than the BBC fans (because historical accuracy and old-timey language). And HP fans might care less than both?
I wonder if anyone has ever done an actual scientific study on this. I suspect perhaps not. Fan studies is, like, the babiest of baby fields, because fanwork has been so widely disparaged for so long and not seen as worthy of study.
Fic: okay this is an AU so you're going to have to suspend disbelief really hard.
Me: no prob.
Fic: American Joe woke up early and walked to the market, lured by the thought of hot cross buns fresh from the oven.
Me: prob.
#ramble#fic#fandom#ao3#brit-picking#america-picking#korea-picking#japan-picking#fans writing other cultures and nations#wild speculation#is there even a point to including a screenshot of chat text when I am also going to write out the text for image description anyway?#like it makes the screenshot feel very unnecessary#especially because it's blurred#like the only benefit to the screenshot#I think#is that it allows sighted people like me to lazily quote things IF we don't write the image description#and we should be writing image descriptions sooooo#tldr never screenshotting chat again I guess#carry on
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Floating Through Space - Harry Styles
a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺 the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!
pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader
warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao
word count: 25.7k
masterlist
This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?
Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.
Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.
“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.
Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.
You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.
“Don’t wear men’s pants.”
“You’d look better in a dress.”
“Why do you look like a guy?”
“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”
Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.
There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.
“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”
“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”
“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.
“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.
“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”
“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.
“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”
“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.
“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.
“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”
“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”
“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”
“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”
“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.
“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.
“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.
Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.
“Oi, can I ask for one?”
Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.
“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.
“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.
“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.
“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!
“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”
“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.
“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.
“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.
“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.
“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.
“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.
“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”
“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.
“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.
“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”
“Not even once,” you shake your head.
“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.
“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.
“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”
“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.
“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”
They stay silent and you know you were right.
“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”
“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.
“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”
Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.
Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.
The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.
“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.
“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.
“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.
“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”
“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.
Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.
“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.
You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.
You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.
Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.
“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”
Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.
It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.
Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.
“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.
“Are you home already?”
“Yes, just arrived.”
“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.
You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.
“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.
“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.
“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.
“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”
“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”
“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.
“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”
“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.
“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”
“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.
“See?” she smiles warmly.
“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”
“Harry Styles.”
You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.
“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”
Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.
“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”
“You and Harry?”
“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.” “Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.
“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”
“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”
“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”
“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.
Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.
Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.
Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.
“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”
“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.
“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”
One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.
Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.
Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.
Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.
“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.
“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.
“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”
“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.
“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.
“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”
“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.
“Well, thank you. Back at you.”
“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.
The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.
“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.
“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”
You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.
“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.
“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.
“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.
“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”
“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.
“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.
“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.
“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”
“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.
“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”
“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”
“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”
You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.
“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”
“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”
“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.” Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.
“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”
“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.
“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”
“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.
“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”
“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.
“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.
“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”
“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”
You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.
The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.
“I would… love to work on a song with you.”
When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.
You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.
You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.
The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.
“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.
“Yeah, everything went fine.”
“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?
However, Harry can see right through you.
“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.” “Harry, no need, I—“ “No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.
“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”
“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”
“What?”
“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”
“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.
“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.
“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”
It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.
“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.
“You guys still talk?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.
“You miss being with the band?”
“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”
“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.
“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”
You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.
“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”
“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.
“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”
Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.
“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.
“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.
“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.
“Nothing pissed you off lately?”
“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”
“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.
“It’s… a long story.”
“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”
Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.
“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”
Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.
“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.
“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.
“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”
“You’re right,” you nod smiling.
The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.
Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.
“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.
“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“You don’t know how not to stress?”
“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”
“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”
“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”
“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”
“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.
“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.
“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”
“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”
“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”
“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”
“Are you gonna smoke?”
“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”
“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”
Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.
You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.
“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.
“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”
“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”
“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”
“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”
“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.
“Did he ever stop?”
“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”
You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.
“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.
“What?”
His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.
“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”
“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.
You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.
“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.
“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.
“Do you want to go for a swim?”
“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.
“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.
“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.
“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.
“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”
“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.
With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.
When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.
“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.
“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.
Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.
“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.
“Yeah,” you chuckle.
Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.
“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.
“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck. “This feels so nice.”
“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.
“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”
“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”
“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.
You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.
“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”
“Which one?”
“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”
You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.
“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”
“What was the name of the song?”
“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”
“Can I ask why you left your parents?”
“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”
The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.
“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”
“No,” you shake your head.
“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”
“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”
“Woah, that sounds really tough.”
“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”
You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.
“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”
“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”
“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.
“You could say that,” you nod into the water.
“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.
“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.
“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.
“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.
“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”
“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.
“Damn right,” he smirks.
And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.
The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.
“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.
“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.
“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.
“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”
“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.
The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.
You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.
You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.
“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.
“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.
“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.
Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.
“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.
“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”
“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.
“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”
You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.
When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.
You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.
The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.
In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.
You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.
Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.
Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.
“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.
“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“
“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.
“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.
“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.
“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.
“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”
“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.
“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.
“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.
“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.
“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.
“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.
“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.
“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.
You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.
As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.
“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.
“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”
“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”
He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.
“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”
“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”
“What did he do this time?”
“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.
“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”
“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”
Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.
“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.
“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”
“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”
“Shoot it.”
“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”
“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.
“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”
“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.
“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.
“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”
An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.
“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.
“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.
“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.
“You’re a fan?”
“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.
“You need to perform it for me.”
“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”
“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”
“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.
You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.
Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx
Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.
“You alright?” Harry softly asks.
“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.
“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”
“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”
From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.
“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”
Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.
“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”
He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.
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“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”
The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.
“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”
“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.
“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.
When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.
“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”
He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.
You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.
Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.
“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.
“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”
“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.
“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes,” you admit.
“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.
“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“
You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.
His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.
Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.
Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.
“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.
“Kind of.”
“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”
“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.
“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.
“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?
You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.
It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.
Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.
It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.
Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.
Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.
“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.
“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”
“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”
“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.
“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”
“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”
“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”
“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.
By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.
Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.
“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.
“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”
The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.
On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?
Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.
Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.
Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.
Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.
At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.
Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.
“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you want to come over to my place?”
“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.
When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.
Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.
“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.
It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.
“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.
“Some water would be great, thank you.”
Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.
He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.
“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.
“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.
“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.
“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.
Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.
Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.
When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.
“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.
“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”
Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.
“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.
“Yes.”
“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.
You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.
Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.
“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.
He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.
“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.
With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.
Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.
“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.
“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.
“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.
“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.
“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.
Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.
“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.
“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.
Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.
“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.
“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.
You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.
“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.
He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.
Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.
“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.
Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.
Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.
With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.
“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.
“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.
He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.
“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”
“Are you still friends with them?”
“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”
A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.
“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.
“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.
“Why not?”
“Because we work together.”
“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.
“You like me?”
“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”
“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.
“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.
“You can stay, but you have to behave.”
“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.
You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.
“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.
“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.
“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.
“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.
Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.
“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.
“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.
“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.
“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.
“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.
“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”
“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”
“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.
“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”
“Alright, I’m in.”
Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.
Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.
Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.
Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.
Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?
He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.
Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?
Harry: Is that even a question?!
“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.
“Huh?”
“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”
“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.
“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”
“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.
“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”
“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.
“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”
“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”
“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”
“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“
“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.
“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”
“I know,” you chuckle.
“How was it?”
“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”
“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”
“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”
“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.
“How is the song writing going?”
“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”
“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.
“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.
Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.
Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.
Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.
“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.
“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.
“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”
Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.
“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.
“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.
“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”
“Always.”
“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”
Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.
“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”
“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”
“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.
“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.
“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.
The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.
“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”
“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.
“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.
“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.
“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.
“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.
“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.
You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.
“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”
“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.
His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.
“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.
The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.
Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.
“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.
“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”
“I want to cum with you.”
“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”
You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.
“Harry! Please!”
“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.
You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.
He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.
“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Mm, good idea.”
Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.
Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.
“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.
“I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.
“About what you said about your parents.”
“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”
“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”
You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.
“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.
“What… would you do if you were in my place?”
Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”
“And what if they don’t?”
“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”
“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.
“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.
Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.
“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.
“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.
Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.
Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.
She attached several articles and you start digging through them.
“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”
“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”
“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”
And then there’s the absolute worst.
“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.
Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.
The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.
You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”
“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.
“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.
An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.
Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.
“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.
“Again?”
“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”
“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”
“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.
“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”
“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”
“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”
“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”
“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”
“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”
“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”
“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”
“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.
“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”
“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”
“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.
“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”
“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”
You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.
“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”
He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.
“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.
“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“
“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.
He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.
The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.
The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.
Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.
On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.
You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.
“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”
“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.
“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”
“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”
“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”
“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”
“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”
“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.
“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”
And with that, you end the call.
Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.
As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.
“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.
“Halo?”
“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.
There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.
You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.
“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”
“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.
“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”
“Bad bitches have bad days too.”
“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”
“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”
“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”
She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.
-
Hi Taylor!
I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.
I hope to see you soon, take care!
Harry
-
With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.
“He… pulled out for me.”
“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”
“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”
“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”
You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.
“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”
“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”
“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.
You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.
Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.
As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.
“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.
“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.
You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.
“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.
“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”
“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.
“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”
Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.
“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.
“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”
“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”
“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”
“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”
Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.
“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.
Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.
“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.
You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.
“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.
“You did?”
“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”
“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”
“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”
“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”
“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”
“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”
“Would you please come with me?”
Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.
“I would love to, if you want me there.”
“I do,” you nod.
“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.
Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet
The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.
Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.
Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.
Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!
Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.
“Hey.”
Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.
“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”
“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.
“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”
Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.
You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.
“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.
You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.
“Hi mom, hi dad.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fiction#harry styles au#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x reading#harry styles x y/n
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accents? what type of accents?
You guys aren't gonna like this post but here I go.
For starters, I see the Chain with more British and Irish (REPUBLIC/SOUTHERN IRELAND IS NOT A PART OF BRITAIN PEOPLE, LET'S GET THAT CLEAR) accents because Medieval men (I know that there's Medieval Germany, France, etc but I'm using British because I myself am British and seeing the boys with accents I've heard almost daily makes me laugh)
OKAY SO (Here's the video I've heavily referenced so you guys can see where I'm coming from with these (British Accents) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyyT2jmVPAk and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ee_N3g4ORLk (Irish Accents))
Time:
Glasgow Accent - I just can't imagine him with something different than a Scottish accent, I especially think it's deeper compared to the other boys and thicker so I was like "Yes, Glaswegian, perfect" (Also I like to think Time has more Gaelic ancestry if he was from our world and yeah)
Twilight:
West Country (More Bristol) - He's from a farm, that area is mostly farmland, need I explain myself?
Dublin Accent (Not British! Irish! Also Southern Accent specifically) - Because he's not actually from Hyrule, he's from Ordon, a province so, like, just him being from a different country makes sense
East Anglia - Because's it's very non-metropolitan and it works (I'm sorry I can't pick for him)
Warriors:
Received pronunciation - This is the stuff you get from the British tv shows you watch, like Sherlock, or BBC news and I can see him having this accent because he's part of the Royal Army, a Captain no less, so he speaks proper
(Central) London - I like to think he's from Castle Town, and I feel like Castle Town would have London accents and I see that it's actually his natural accent, but he puts on the RP accent for show
Four:
Lanarkshire - It's a very historic area and it just gives me the vibes of Four, (as said in the video, in the lower class people in Downtown Abbey tend to have this accent and has his grandfather worked for the king and his dad was a knight.... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Edinburgh - I can also see Four with a Scottish accent but also the idea that Dot had a Scottish accent and he picked it up from her because he hung out with her so much sounds cute.
Wind:
Cornwall - Practically the Seaside Capital and he was raised by the sea, not to mentions pirates!
Belfast - Also by the sea, not to mention the birthplace of the Titanic and I can also see him with an Irish accent (My Gran was Irish so experiencing it first-hand makes me an expert argue with the wall/j)
Wild:
Received pronunciation - This is more before the Calamity because he was a part of the knights like his father before him, his father got the accent to fit it and Wild adopted it because people kept looking at him funny with his other
Inverness - No I don't know why, I just feel like he had one before his affiliation with the Royal Family
But I like to think after the Calamity and he was resurrected, he lost his accent and just picked them up from people all around Hyrule so now he had this mutated accent and now no one can pinpoint where he's from.
Legend:
Scouse - No I don't have an explanation I just feel like he's from there
Yorkshire - A more historic part of the country, kinda falls into his want to travel and learn maybe???
West Country (Bristol) - Was also raised in farmland, but hides the accent to not affiliate himself with Ranch-hand and he thinks it's embarrassing
Hyrule
The Republic of Ireland - Different country, different accent
West Cork - Thick, he's still very deep in his roots
Kerry - I like the idea of no-one understanding him, makes me giggle and he has to kinda adjust himself if he gets too excited
Received pronunciation - Also had to adjust the way he spoke because he moved into the castle with his Zeldas (Sorry I forget their names!) and they couldn't understand him so he just adopted their accent, his native one does slip in from time to time though
Sky
Southern Welsh - This is kinda a generalisation because I think Welsh people are very nice and it fits Sky really well. (Also the image of Sky screaming "I'm fucking fuming!" when's he's angry is the funniest shit ever)
AND DONE! This has been accents with Cloud, I hope you guys aren't too upset with me for this cursed post and forgive me for pushing this narrative onto you/ hj
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A request for whenever you want: modern M6 and their favorite TV shows?
(Tumblr needs to stop deleting my stuff ugh!)
Okay let's try this again! I tried to use different genres and there are a few listed I haven't seen but have heard of that just make sense. I'm not sure especially after everything if anyone will be into things that are too intense or dark but their are a few
Modern M6's Favorite TV Shows
Asra💜
I can totally see Asra being into trashy reality romance shows. Mostly out of morbid curiosity or flat out hate watch, his favorite being 90 Day Fiancé. The one they actually do enjoy is Catfish and might get too invested/emotional with some couples.
Their all time favorite is probably heart felt like The Good Place or maybe This Is Us. They primarily enjoy rom-coms like Gilmore Girls, Jane the Virgin, New Girl, etc.
Likes to watch Rick and Morty or the Midnight Gospel to just chill and vibe with.
Nadia💖
She would love most thing's Shondaland; Scandal, even Bridgerton (she doesn't care if it's a guilty pleasure) yet isn't as into Gossip Girl. She also likes Castle and detective dramedies like it. Even House of Cards is just so intriguing to her.
She likes Private Practice and Grey's Anatomy much to Julian's dismay. I can see her liking royalty biopics too like the Crown. It might not be completely accurate but it's entertaining.
At the same time she's kinda picky. She'll try most things but sometimes she just can't get into a show for whatever reason.
Julian🖤
His favorites are things he doesn't have to think about after a long day but still enjoys a good anthology. He likes the Great British Bake Off for this reason and because they're all so nice to each other!
While he loves certain concepts and characters he just can't sit through most medical dramas (Scrubs however, he loves because it's a goofy fun time). He's open to most things and actually can get into alot of different shows. I'm almost convinced he'd love Sherlock or Doctor Who, definitely loves The Mandalorian and Andor.
I can see him liking period shows like the Marvelous Ms. Maisel or Downton Abbey (Nadia recommended it). I also get the feeling he'd like Better Call, Saul!
Muriel💚
He'll watch whatever is on but isn't super partial to anything. When he watches something on his own or gets to pick there's a pattern in themes or aesthetics though.
Hilda, Anne with an E, and to an extent Outlander (sometimes might skip through scenes) are his favorites. He prefers light hearted, cozy shows but isn't opposed to some good plot heavy shows. Will cry when his favorites end or get cancelled.
At the same time just PBS cooking, travel, and gardening shows specifically are his favorite to put on in the background.
Portia🧡
She gets really into the darker, spooky scary stuff like Black Mirror and American Horror Story alongside the Walking Dead. She has her own theories for everything! (Nadia also got her into Good Girls.)
I can see her getting really into Cartoon Network shows like Infinity Train, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Adventure Time, Over the Garden Wall, ect. She'd also love Summer Camp Island.
Besides that she's just really into Fantasy and Adventure. She's pretty open to trying out any show especially if it has those elements.
Lucio❤️
He has seen all of Jersey Shore and every single spinoff. No one is shocked, those are his comfort shows. He likes other reality TV like Big Brother too. I could see him liking Shameless for the same absurd antics and comedy.
As much as he loves adult comedies like South Park, and Big Mouth he does like other animated shows. Ren and Stimpy, Rocko's Modern Life, Cat-Dog, and obviously Fairly Odd-Parents to name a few. Basically, any cartoon from the 90s.
Still sometimes he gets invested in other shows but usually it's because someone else got him into it like How I Met Your Mother. In which case it'll be a struggle to get him to not binge it on his own.
Shows they all enjoy or even get together to watch:
Steven Universe, What We Do In The Shadows, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Friends, The Office, Parks and Rec, The Witcher, Game of Thrones, Stranger Things (maybe), Bojack Horseman (They refuse to let anyone/each other watch it alone though), Gravity Falls, Avatar the Last Airbender, Legend of Kora, The Good Place, Archer, Bob's Burgers, Bluey (I said what said), The Owl House, Letterkenny, Cheers, etc.
They are acutely aware of which characters they match up with each show and find it hilarious. Well everyone but Lucio for obvious reasons. (If anyone wants those matches, just let me know! lol)
#the arcana#thearcanagame#julian the arcana#julian devorak#asra the magician#asra the arcana#countess nadia#nadia the arcana#count lucio#the arcana lucio#portia the arcana#portia devorak#muriel of the kokhuri#muriel the arcana
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ok i have a truly devious hc prompt: what are the ellingham gang's favorite movies and tv shows? I know it's canon that Janelle likes Kdramas and David likes The West Wing and Nate loves LOtR, but what do you think their faves would be?
stevie
agatha christie: poirot (the 1989 one). i watched an episode with my friend the other day and it just gave me some serious stevie vibes
nate
i feel like nate would like bbc's merlin. no reason why other than it amuses him and also gives him some good inspiration
david
keeping up with the bbc theme, david would love sherlock, specifically to watch stevie's face when she sits with him while it's playing
janelle
i feel like the great british bake off is something she'd love with a terrifying intensity. it's the perfect amount of relaxing and stress inducing
vi
i genuinely have no idea what they'd watch. maybe the great british bake off with janelle?
#if it wasn't obvious i spend a lot of time watching british tv#stevie bell#nate fisher#david eastman#janelle franklin#vi harper tomo#truly devious
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Matchmaker
Mycroft Holmes x Chubby/Plus Size Reader
Prompt: Could you write a one-shot where the reader is a dectective in Scotland yard, who met sherlock for the first time recently and sherlock still knowing that his brother is lonely decides that she would be a perfect fit for him and tries to set her and mycroft up... Basically I'm looking for a sherlock plays matchmaker.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: none?
Masterlist
“So dead man on the floor, house ransacked, what do you think?...Sherlock? Sherlock!” Said man jumped out of his trance and turned to face Lestrade who was looking at him with frustration, “Well?” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Come on Garret, this is easy even for you, wedding ring missing from the finger, seemingly half the possessions gone, absence of any pictures. It was the wife if you couldn’t see that already. Now enough about that, who’s she?” Greg sighed and rubbed his face with his hand before looking over to where Sherlock was facing, “Detective (L/N)? What about her?”
Sherlock said nothing, just observed you and Greg looked at John next to him. The former soldier just shrugged, “I don’t question it anymore Greg, I’m sorry.” Greg looked at Sherlock, then you, then back to Sherlock, “You like her or summit?” Sherlock hummed in approval, “Not for me.” John chuckled from how confusing his friend was being but like he said, he didn’t question it.
Without a word of warning, Sherlock made his way over to you, “Hi, I have a proposition for you which I have no doubt you’d be interested in. I would like to have you accompany a friend of mine to an evening meal. Judging by the past few failed relationships, you don’t like being lonely, even if you know you’re not compatible. But you’ve been making more of an effort in your appearance lately which can only mean you’re looking for another relationship.” You chuckled to yourself, “And you must be Sherlock. Given what people say about you, the last thing I expected you to be doing was setting me up on a date.”
Sherlock huffed impatiently, “Yes yes, now will you go on the date or not?” He clasped his hands together, a silent plead for you to accept. You thought it over for a few moments, could it really hurt to try it out? And you doubted someone who called themselves a detective would actively put you in danger so what was the harm? Nodding your head, “Okay fine, but you owe me.” Sherlock scoffed but shook your hand, “Deal, here’s your phone back, I’ll text you with the details.” You were shocked but mostly confused when Sherlock gave you your phone back, when did he take it from you? You weren’t really mad at him though, he had given you something to be excited about.
It had been a while since you had any excuse to dress up for an occasion and Sherlock had just presented it to you on a silver platter. Normally, you wouldn’t agree to this kind of thing but it had been difficult to date because of your new job now, being a detective was a turn off for most men, it seemed like.
. . .
“A what?” Sherlock rolled his eyes at his older brother, “A date, I know it’s been a while but you must remember what a date is.” Mycroft let out a sigh of frustration, “And what makes you think you can meddle with my love life like this?” Sherlock looked at Mycroft, “Oh get over yourself, you’re lonely and you know it, I’m just trying to help. Maybe then you won’t be so...you.” Mycroft glared at Sherlock, “Listen brother mine, how many times do I have to tell you that I am not lonely. I do not need you to be playing matchmaker for me, if I wanted to be in a relationship, I could easily go out and find myself one.”
Sherlock accidentally snorted from holding back a laugh, “You really think so?” At the sight of his brother’s anger, Sherlock calmed down, “Just go on the date, you’ll thank me later, she’s lovely.” Mycroft gritted his teeth, “Who is ‘she’?” Sherlock texted his brother a picture of you that he had taken from your Facebook profile, “Her name is (Y/N) (L/N) and she works with Graham.” Mycroft frowned, “Who is Graham?” Sherlock looked down at his phone as he started flicking through twitter, “Oh you know Graham, Scotland Yard, grey hair, could stand to lose a few pounds.” Mycroft leaned back in his chair, “You mean Greg Lestrade.” Sherlock nodded, “That’s what I said.”
Sherlock turned and left his brother’s office, but Mycroft shouted after him, “Where am I supposed to be going?!” He didn’t hear a response but his phone vibrated to show a text from Sherlock with the time and address. He sighed as he rubbed his face with his hand, why did he have a feeling he was going to regret this? Mycroft was tempted to just refuse to go on the date to annoy his brother but as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was lonely and a little companionship might be nice for once. Spending each night alone in his large, empty house was getting rather tiring over time.
. . .
You had been told to dress ‘fancy’ so you had worn your best dress in your closet, a long sleeved, off the shoulder light pink knee length dress that flattered your body by making your waist seem smaller to give you more of an hourglass shape. You had your hair styled just how you liked it and you had decided to wear heels for this date because you didn’t want to risk seeming under-dressed and you didn’t have any flats that would match the dress. You had a small clutch that had your purse, some makeup and perfume in, as well as your keys.
You had taken a taxi to the address Sherlock had given and you were not surprised to see a very fancy restaurant, one that looked more intimidating than anything else. You weren’t sure what to do but luckily as you were stood staring at the building, you heard someone clear their throat next to you. You turned to see a man dressed in a suit and had an umbrella with them? It hadn’t been raining but you decided not to question it. You smiled at them, “Hello,”
Mycroft had been a little taken aback when he saw you, you almost seemed too good to be true. He was never someone who had much preference for looks, but you were just so beautiful. He could tell by the look on your face that you had never been here before and were nervous, symptoms of a blind date he presumed. He walked over to you and cleared his throat to get your attention and when you smiled at him, he almost forgot what to say, you had such a captivating smile. When you started to look weary of him, he realised he actually had to say something to you, “My apologies, I don’t suppose you’re here because of Sherlock?” Your shoulders dropped slightly in relief, “Yes I am, are you my date for this evening?”
Mycroft nodded in agreement and held out his arm for you to take. While the date wasn’t his idea, he was still going to be a gentleman. Your nerves started again when you walked inside the building, it was all so elegant and posh and you felt really out of place in here. You bit your bottom lip as you looked around, half listening to your date talk to the hostess. It was then that you realised you didn’t know his name yet. When the two of you were taken to a table, you cleared your throat, “I’m (Y/N) by the way, it’s nice to meet you,” Mycroft hummed, “Likewise, I’m Mycroft.” Your eyes widened a little, “Mycroft? That’s an unusual name isn’t it? I like it though.”
Mycroft studied over you, trying to pick up on all the deductions he could about you but he seemed to have a little trouble concentrating and everything was a bit of a blur. You leaned forward a little, “So how do you know Sherlock?” Mycroft straightened in his seat, “He’s my little brother?” Mycroft could see the amusement in your face, “Really? What’s it like having a genius for a brother?” Mycroft scoffed, “I wouldn’t say he’s a genius, I’ve always considered myself the smartest between us.” You could help but chuckle a little to yourself and when you saw Mycroft’s confused and partially offended expression, you explained yourself, “If you were really that smart, you would’ve noticed that I’d rather have this date anywhere but here. I’m not made for fine dining.”
Normally, this would have annoyed Mycroft, not being able to see something as obvious as this. But you intrigued him so he was more focused on learning more about you. He waited until there was the least amount of people watching and then grabbed your hand, leading you outside of the restaurant, “Where do you propose we go now?” You turned to him and looked at him with a curious expression, “You want to go watch a movie together?” Mycroft hummed, “It depends on the types of movies you prefer.” You smiled, “I like old movies.” “Hm, then I believe I have something to show you.” And that was how you found yourself being driven to Mycroft’s house.
It was weird that you didn’t feel uncomfortable around him, you didn’t feel scared of him or felt any bad vibes from him. He was surprised to feel oddly at ease with you as well, he felt like he could tell you anything despite having known each other for a very limited time. When you arrived at Mycroft’s house, you were taken back by the size of it, “My god, are you some kind of secret billionaire? Where do you work?” You giggled to yourself as you looked around the walls and ceilings, taking it all in. Mycroft had disappeared into the kitchen for a small while but could hear you talking as he came back with wine and two glasses, “I work for the British government.”
You stopped in your awe, “Are you serious? That’s pretty cool.” Mycroft felt a sudden burst of pride at how easily you were impressed with him. He smirked to himself, “I suppose so, may I ask you a question?” You gladly took the glass of wine from his hand and took a drink, “Go ahead,” “What were your first impressions of me?” You walked closer to Mycroft, “Well, I thought you looked a little fancy and uptight and I still do, but you looked like a man who was lonely in my opinion. Very cute though.” You winked at him over the rim of your glass as you took another drink and Mycroft for once, didn’t have anything to say.
You smiled at him, “Go on then, what did you think of me?” Mycroft cleared his throat and looked down at his own glass of wine, “I thought you looked beautiful, a little intimidated but someone who wasn’t afraid.” You blushed from his words and the two of you were lost in a moment between the two of you just looking into each other’s eyes. You hadn’t realised the two of you started to get closer until he was almost touching you. You cleared your throat, “So what was it you wanted to show me?”
It was like the two of you were pulled out of a trance as Mycroft blinked and moved back one step to create some distance between the two of you. He walked down the corridor to lead you into his ‘theater room’ which looked like a small cinema in your opinion. You were in total awe of this man and his house, it was so big and fancy you were almost scared. Mycroft had you sit in a seat next to him when your eyes caught the projector, “I haven’t seen one of those in absolutely ages, my parents used to have one when I was a kid.” Mycroft smiled briefly at you as he set it up, your attention being directed in front of you when the light flashed on, illuminating the dark room.
You had been excited to watch the movie and you had to stop yourself from laughing when you saw Mycroft mouthing the words along with the actors out of the corner of your eye. You were having such a good time, you almost didn’t want it to end. It was halfway through the movie that ,Mycroft put his hand up on the chair arm and didn’t realise your hand was already there until he felt it underneath his own. He was a little embarrassed about it and wasn’t sure what to do, should he keep it there? Should he take it away? Just as he was about to pull his hand away, he felt your fingers slowly wrap around his own, holding his hand. Mycroft felt his heart beat rising as he in turn held your hand and you smiled to yourself, only half focusing on the movie now.
It was disappointing when the projector stopped as the movie was over, that meant you had to let go of Mycroft’s hand while he got up to turn off the device. You stood up and stretched, the chair had been comfy but it was awkward to sit in the same position for a long time. You smiled at Mycroft after you checked your phone to see the time, “It’s getting late, I suppose I should head home.” Mycroft was unable to hide his disappointment in your words, but it was going to happen sooner or later. He was surprised to see how close he felt with you after knowing you for so little time.
Mycroft called his driver to take you home, wanting to ensure that you got home safely. “Are you sure? I can just get a cab, it’s not too much trouble.” “Please, I insist on it,” You had begrudgingly accepted his offer and the two of you waited at his front door until the car pulled up. You turned to face Mycroft, “I had a wonderful time you know.” Mycroft nodded, “As did I,” You opened your mouth to say something the same time as Mycroft and you lightly chuckled, “Oh sorry, you first,” “No, please, I’d hate to interrupt.” You bit your lip before you asked, “Would you perhaps like to do this again sometime?” Mycroft had been hoping that’s what you were going to say, “It would be my pleasure.”
You blushed a little and looked at him for a moment before standing up on the tips of your toes to kiss him on the cheek, he was a lot taller than you. Quickly, you turned around and walked over to get into the car, not looking at him until you were inside so he couldn’t see you through the tinted windows. You relaxed against the leather seats, letting out a deep breath. Your head had just touched the back of the seat when your phone buzzed. Curious to see who was texting you, you pulled it out of your clutch and read the notification on the lock screen. It simply read, “Had a nice date? - SH” You shook your head but grinned at the message before turning your phone off again, putting it back in your bag. What a weird day.
#sherlock#sherlock x reader#sherlock x chubby reader#sherlock x plus size reader#Mycroft holmes#Mycroft x reader#Mycroft x chubby reader#Mycroft x plus size reader#chubby reader#x chubby reader#plus size reader#x plus size reader
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So whenever I watch a new movie I like to record my thoughts and reactions just for fun. Since I’m writing stuff for the Final Prayer I thought I would post what I wrote when I watched it for the first time.
-They are not speaking English yet, oof that guy is angry at the camera man.
-Chasing sugar with red bull is a total mood
-teehee he locked himself out in the most British way possible. I already love him.
-“We’re sharing?” Haha too funny.
-wait a minute wait a minute…the sharing guy is the guy from the beginning who yelled at the camera. What’s he doing here I thought this was found footage from the recorder they found in the wall?
-“I’ll put the kettle on” is just about the most British thing I have heard all day. Love it.
-Deacon looks really familiar…where have I seen him before *pauses movie to look up imdb.com* yessssssssssss Sherlock, must watch that episode later…omg AND Robin Hood? Okay I gotta watch this show now and also Richard Armitage it’s a sign that I will most definitely love it.
-why are they cutting to black when it is a found footage movie? Who is watching this other than me, the viewer? Can anybody log into the Vatican website and watch investigations go forward in real time?
-Chill about the head cam, dude.
-WTF is a betting shop? *pauses movie* I’m not from the UK so…yeah Im guessing it has something to do with fishing? *looks it up on google* oh duh betting like gambling guess that makes sense.
-have you just bought booze is also such a mood.
-Aww he’s teaching him about the map, that’s kinda sweet. Also Ball….combe :P
-hahaha the puzzle and “See you around March”, this movie is kinda funny, I like it :)
-church bells remind me of when I was living in Rome.
-those people outside are kinda creepy, getting paranormal activity vibes.
-teeheee delicate equipment
-man they are awkward car drivers.
-are we there yet? Point for sarcasm 👍
-have a cracking good day mate haha
-is that really what the tapes are used for or is he just being sarcastic? Maybe a point for sarcasm?
-OMG Gray you NEVER eat in a church, hearing that sound is giving me anxiety. Growing up I would have been whooped good if I was ever caught eating during church.
-CHUNKS OF LIVING FLESH!!!!!!!!
-Haha the cow thing was funny. Is that how British people smoke cigarettes? When I went to London I didn’t see anybody do that…. But then again I was only there for 2 days and it rained the entire time. Not that that has anything to do with smoking. Man, what a trip that was.
-Barry is totally another mood.
-Whats happening now? Oh wait this is a flashback awwww look its a baby! EARTHQUAKE!!!! Why isn’t anybody running? Do they have earthquakes in England?
-Fancy a drink eh? More British talk, I love it.
-What’s stigmata? *pauses movie* oooohhhh ouch. Poor girl.
-No offense to him or anything but Mark is being kind of a dick right now….if he was delayed then why didn’t he call them? So rude.
-Wait wait, so Mark got to the cottage and then just decided to snoop in Deacon and Gray’s room without them? And touch their stuff? Once again, how rude. And the fact that he is treating Gray as just a techie and not an important member of the investigation. I feel ya, Gray sometimes that’s how I feel at work too.
-Fish n chips, awkward strangers eating dinner vibe going on.
-OMG WHO WOULD CATCH A SHEEP ON FIRE LIKE THAT!??!?
-Mark definitely made it seem like in his report that Deacon had been the one that killed the sheep.
-Who puts water in a coffee mug? Sorry I’m judging just a little bit.
-So I think Gray’s shirt is of a knight riding an ostrich. Would that make Gray a fan of the game Joust? *inner geek squeals*
-Gray is wearing a gold wedding band, and Deacon has a silver pendant necklace and a watch. Im always curious about jewelry choices in movies. I wonder if they will mean anything near the end?
-Mark really doesn’t know what earbuds are?
-Yeah, I’ve heard that sound before and do you know what is it? It is a RAT in the wall just crawling around. Those MFs can get huge, and it takes forever for them to die and that’s just if you are lucky sometimes they decided to live there and have millions of rat babies. I hate rats.
-Gray: HHEEHEEEWHHHOOLLLLLAALALALALALAWHOOHWHOOOOO! Deacon: *really?*
-Priests most definitely are an uptight bunch but they sure do know how to party. Trust me, I went to catholic school.
-Okay so that dog actually looked really friendly, I could see his tail wagging.
-Ouch, poor mark that look like it hurt a lot.
-Gray’s concern is so sweet, and he is right Mark should really go see a doctor. Bleeding ears are not good!
-Okay so what is he saying about Belem? Curse my hearing loss for making it so difficult for me to understand what anybody is saying without the freaking subtitles on….rewinding now.
-I think I get it now, when Deacon was telling Gray the story of what happened in Belem he made it seem like he wasn’t there, that he was at the Vatican receiving reports from Renaldi but never was in Brazil.
-Haha the bottle trick was cool. How did he do that?
-Krellick is getting kind of weird, and what is up with all the earthquakes at the church? I think they need to talk to a seismologist.
-That baby crying doesn’t seem to be coming from a baby monitor.
-Oh no….not Father Krellick! That was very unsettling and I am going to have to update the DDD report to include suicide. Damn.
-Those kids totally got what the deserved.
-Okay here we go again, what are they saying? Gotta back up and put on the subtitles again. Why won’t my stupid ears work right?
-Sorry about this bit I kinda tuned everything out because I was painting my nails and also it got scary way to fast for my liking.
-DEACON WATCH WHERE YOU ARE DRIVING! Oh never mind he is the passenger I forgot they were in England.
-this is the last time that any of them are ever going to see the sky, and that’s kind of sad.
-Gray and Deacon kind of sound like an old bickering couple…..I totally ship them.
-He actually sounds really scared, poor darling. I would be scared too, caves are terrifying and I have probably the worst claustrophobia ever. Should I really be watching this movie when my MRI is tomorrow? Nahhh I’ll be fine (UPDATE: I was not fine).
-WTF was that? That’s it? That’s the end? NO it can’t be the end. WHY?! OMG that’s such an awful way to die. Why would they do that? So this isn’t the same church that was in the beginning? That’s so confusing, so then who found the cameras? I must watch again but this time with the subtitles on through the whole thing.
-*while walking the dog* why did they go down there when Gray saw that father what’s his face was dead in the church?
-*while driving to work* OMG the orphanage was there so they could sacrifice the babies to the pagan god monster.
-FOUR DAYS LATER at 2:30AM *pulls up blank word document* muahahahahaaaaaa this will be fun!
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Beautiful Stranger (Chris Evans x OFC) -- part nine
I just finished part eleven and EEEEK I can’t wait for you guys to read it. I know you’ll love it. Here’s part nine for now xx. (And enjoy the Sherlock cameo. I had to do it.)
I’m not entirely sure why-- Well, let’s back up.
I’m pissed. And when I’m pissed, my body goes on autopilot. I’ve always done that. One would think that autopilot would entail going straight to my apartment, because I’ve lived there for a while and it is my home. But that isn’t where my feet take me.
Chris walks into his living room with a strange smile on his face, and I jump when I see him, nearly waking Dodger. I don’t even know why I jump. This is Chris’s apartment, of course he’s going to be here.
I didn’t expect him to be in a t-shirt and shorts, though. I guess he just got back from the gym.
Damn.
Anyway. “I’m so sorry,” I blurt. “I just barged in without asking--”
“It’s okay--”
“But I’m just pissed and my body goes on autopilot when I’m pissed so--”
“Eva--”
“I was already inside when I realized where I was, but I didn’t see you anywhere, and then Dodger just wanted to get in my lap--”
“Eva.” Chris tries again, this time putting his hands on my shoulders so I’ll stop talking. “It’s okay.”
“Okay,” I breathe, realizing that he’s sitting right next to me, his thigh against mine. “I’m still sorry, though.”
“Don’t be,” Chris replies gently, reaching down to pet Dodger. “I’m sorry you had a bad day.”
I groan, leaning my head back dramatically and closing my eyes. “It’s fine.”
“Is it your boss?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Just had a feeling,” Chris murmurs. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.” I lift my head so I can look at him. “If that’s okay.”
“It’s okay,” he assures me. “What do you want for dinner?”
I furrow my eyebrows. “You’re not cooking?”
He raises his. “Did you like my cooking that much?”
“Maybe,” is all I say. Because I feel like it’s a bit too soon to say I really enjoyed just watching him cook. Something about it was so gentle and domestic and I miss it. It was sweet to get to play with Dodger on the floor while Chris cooked on the counter above us. It was so...anxiety and stress-free.
“Well, I can see what I can do,” he pauses. “But I thought you’d maybe wanna go out tonight.”
“Only if you want to,” I immediately say. “And only if your publicist won’t kill you. Aren’t you on house arrest?”
He shrugs. “I can wear a hat. And sunglasses.”
I give him a strange look. “Only if you want to.”
“Do you want to?”
“Chris,” I chuckle, wondering now what’s going on with him. “I’m perfectly okay with hanging out here. I’ve had a long day and I’d be fine with just...ordering pizza or something and watching a movie. We don’t need to go out and risk you getting in more trouble.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I nod. “What movie are we watching?”
“I wanted to let you pick,” he accepts my subject change (thank God) and tosses me the remote. “I’m gonna go order the pizza. What do you like?”
“Everything,” I breathe, turning the TV on. I pause when he pats my leg before standing, turning to smile at him. “Hey, thank you.”
He reaches over and squeezes my hand that’s resting on top of Dodger, smiling genuinely. He doesn’t say anything besides that, though, and leaves the room.
He comes back a second later with his phone and I see that he’s online ordering from Dominos.
“Hey, hey, what are you doing?”
Chris looks up suddenly, eyes wide. “What?”
“Don’t order Dominos,” I groan.
“What should I order, then?”
I roll my eyes dramatically. I’m so hungry. “You’ve been in Atlanta for how long? And you haven’t had Johnny’s? For shame.”
He leans back on the couch. “Johnny’s?”
“Johnny’s New York Style Pizza,” I finish. “It’s the best pizza you’ll ever have, promise.”
“That’s really high praise.”
“Well, it’s really good pizza,” I fire back with a smile. “Trust me, it’s my go-to comfort food when I’ve had a bad day. It never lets me down.”
Chris frowns then, and I can tell by his eyes that he wants to press the subject, so I look away.
“Then that’s what I’ll order,” he says quietly, full of sympathy.
“I’ll pay,” I say casually, but I should’ve known he wouldn’t let me.
“No,” he shakes his head. “You’ve had a bad day. I’m paying.”
“Fine,” I give in easily, only because I did, in fact, have a bad day. “But I’m paying next time.”
He hesitates for a few moments before saying, “Deal.” And there’s a long pause after, which takes me a few moments to look over and see he has his hand stuck out for me to shake.
I give him a look, wondering if he’s making fun of me for last night, but he gives me one back, so I shake his hand. His lips split into a grin, and he holds my hand. I try not to think too much while he’s holding my hand, but all I can think is how soft his hands are and how gentle he holds mine. He’s such a gentle creature.
He carefully takes his hand away before it gets too awkward -- even though I already feel awkward -- and goes back to ordering the pizza.
“Have you ever seen Sherlock?”
“What?”
“Sherlock,” I say again, gesturing to the show I now have pulled up on the TV. “It’s a British show.”
Chris furrows his eyebrows. “I think Scott watches it.”
“Who’s Scott?”
“Oh, my brother,” Chris chuckles. “Then I’ve got two sisters, Carly and Shanna.”
“Older?”
He nods. “Scott’s the youngest.”
“You definitely have that older brother vibe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He’s got that teasing glint in his eye as he feigns defense and annoyance at my obviously true observation.
“You just look like you’d get him into trouble,” I draw out my words and shake my head. “That’s definitely how I think my brother would’ve been.”
“Would’ve been?”
“Oh,” I chuckle, realizing that this is the first time I’ve slipped up about my brother. Here we go. “He’s my half-brother, anyway, so we didn’t grow up together. But he’s in the military now.”
“Oh,” Chris replies softly. “So you guys don’t talk anymore?”
“We do, here and there,” I offer, trying not to say too much. I can’t say much exactly. I know he’s in the military, and I know he works much deeper than your normal, average soldier. He couldn’t even tell me what it was before he left. All he could say was that our emails might be a little sparse for a while. “Just not as much.”
It’s been over a year. I try not to worry about the possibility of him being dead.
“What’s his name?”
“Austin,” I reply. “I haven’t talked about him to anyone in a long time.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, wondering why the hell I’m about to continue talking about him. “He’s been in the military for...almost fifteen years? He went in right when he was eighteen, didn’t want to go to college but dad told him he had to do something.”
“So you guys had the same father?”
“Mhm,” I nod. “Dad had no idea about Austin for a while. He was already sixteen when I met him.”
“How much older is he?”
“Just five years, he’s thirty-three.”
“Oh, me too,” Chris chuckles.
“Wait, really?”
He feigns hurt again. “You look shocked.”
“Because I am!” I exclaim. “I swore you were my age or something.”
“I’m not that much older,” he protests.
“I dunno…” I trail away. “Five years is a long time…”
“And to think, I’m buying you pizza.”
“Hey, I offered to pay,” I counter, pointing at him. “That’s all on you for turning me down.”
“I didn’t turn you down,” he defends. “Just...gave you a raincheck.”
“That I will be taking,” I reply seriously. “Now, back to Sherlock,” I hit play on Netflix and sit back as the first episode begins to play.
+++
With two episodes of Sherlock under our belts and the large pizza we ordered completely finished, Chris and I sit in a somewhat silence while the third episode loads. But I glance at the clock and wonder if I should stay for another episode, or leave while we’re ahead.
Chris’s arm found its way around my shoulder halfway through the second episode after we had finished eating, and I still haven’t found the courage to move. Dodger is in between us -- kind of. He’s more sprawled out across both of our laps, but we’re right next to each other.
The theme song plays and Chris asks, “Do you have work tomorrow?”
I nod. “Yeah. Do you?”
He shakes his head. “I have one more day off. Do you need to go?”
I think it over. “I can stay for one more episode.”
“Okay.”
“I like the show,” I murmur.
“Yeah,” I hear him say. “Me too.”
I don’t look at him, but I can feel him looking at me. I want to make some joke about how he should watch the show, not me, but I don’t. I can’t.
Because all I can think about is how it sounded when he said he liked the show too.
I don’t think he was talking about the show.
#chris evans#chris evans x ofc#chris evans x original female character#chris evans x reader#chris evans soulmate#soulmate au#soulmate story#marvel cast#marvel#marvel fanfiction#fluff#so much fluff#comfort after a bad day#i wrote this chapter after i had a very bad day#and it helped a ton#so there's that#i want them to kiss already#if you're reading these then you'll see that i've already written their first kiss#HAHA#SOON
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i read some non vna dw books a while ago but because i am a Clown i’ve only just finished typing up notes on them...i think my next dw book i’ll make notes as i go rather than just marking the pages and Hoping I Remember. anyway! here’s my thoughts on thirteen doctors 13 stories. i have more opinions on some than others.
A BIG HAND FOR THE DOCTOR
"...Susan, who was possibly the only person in the universe who could make the Doctor smile at the mere thought of her."
awwwwww
didn't really like this one that much - i wasn't too impressed with eoin colfer's characterisation of the first doctor (esp since pre-ian and barbara i don’t think he’d willingly attempt to stop some villains until susan was in danger)
THE NAMELESS CITY
Polly...once described him as looking like an unmade bed.
lmao
...he didn't know exactly what he was, though when he was growing up, he had heard tales of the legendary fairy creatures of the Unseelie Court who haunted Scotland's deepest valleys. He suspected the Doctor might be one of the dark Sith.
HEAVILY vibe with this concept the world is saved by bagpipes.......peak dw THE SPEAR OF DESTINY
"You know what I love about London?" he said, turning to her briefly. She sighed. "I'm sure I can't guess." "It's the only city in the universe where you can drive around in a car that's seventy years old and get away with it." "Who says you're getting away with it?" Jo muttered.
nkdfsjksn
"Fire away!"
"Oh, Doctor, please. Not after that business at the museum."
no doctor is immune to the temptation of a good pun. no matter how inappropriate. actually i really like how jo and three are written in this generally. there's so many good scenes. also, when the doctor asks her why she doesn't know anything about the vikings: "Doctor, we did the Romans. Every year." rip jo
From a distance the Doctor watched as a group of about twenty men loaded the TARDIS on to the back of a large low wagon pulled by four sturdy oxen.
jo: the doctor told me about the perception filter on the tardis so it'll be fine! they won't even spot it. literally the next scene, immediately:
She longed to stand and give this old goat a piece of her mind, but she knew she'd most likely fall over if she tried, which wasn't the effect she was after.
aw jo :(
"Do you know they wash once a week?" "Could have fooled me," muttered Jo.
*desperately resists the urge to write down every jo line in this story*
"I have the ship. And I have the spear. What need have I of you any more?"
the master is betrayed. to the surprise of no-one but himself.
The Doctor held her by the shoulders. "My dear girl," he said. "That is very noble of you. You were right. Your aspirations /are/ the very noblest. But you're wrong about something. Nothing is more important than you."
me, sobbing:
ROOTS OF EVIL
realised as i was reading this that i don't own any books featuring leela.....a crime
"Surprise!" the Doctor said. "You know you were complaining that you missed trees?"
this is actually the cutest thing no-one look at me
She could never understand why the Doctor was so careless of danger. It was a good thing he had her to look after him, she thought, as he opened the TARDIS door and they stepped out together into dim, green light and the earthy, warm-compost smell inside the great tree.
phillip reeve gets the four+leela dynamic. like. he Gets it.
"It will not hurt you," she promised. "It is called a 'scarf'. It is like a cloak, only pointless."
ousdofnsoksfd
"Did it look a bit like a gravel pit? You'd be amazed how many alien worlds look just like gravel pits..."
what is doctor who. without quarry jokes.
"I mean, he's wearing a bow tie!" the Doctor explained patiently. "Ridiculous objects! I wouldn't be seen dead in a bow tie!"
1) says the guy who wears an obnoxiously long scarf everywhere 2) honey, you've got a big storm coming
TIP OF THE TONGUE
there's a scene in this where nyssa and the doctor chill at a diner and they drink chocolate milkshakes together. this is all i care about.
Good Lord, was that celery he was wearing on his lapel?
Yeah We Know
"Are you British?" Nettie said, as if this was the most surprising part of the whole thing.
i mean, fair
He paused. "I don't suppose either of you would be interested in travelling?"
the fifth doctor: hey one of my friends died recently and i abandoned the other one but i really miss having a large crew so i was wondering if you two literal children would like to risk your life travelling with me :)
SOMETHING BORROWED
you'd think given this one is from peri's pov she'd be slightly more central to the plot. ah well.
"That's two storeys up!" I exclaimed. "And I'm in heels." "Well then, you should have worn more sensible shoes, shouldn't you?"
maybe she lives in hope that she won't have to do any running/scale buildings every time she steps out of the tardis. i get that.
"Well, you are the expert when it comes to gaudy," I said, giving a meaningful look to his red-and-yellow plaid coat and green tie.
every six story is legally obligated to drag his coat
The Doctor shook the man's hand vigorously. "Yes, yes. A little different round the edges since our last meeting on Kiri 4, but all the charm and intellect are still here."
i love this bastard.......
"Love? That contrived, chemically driven state of idiocy?"
mood
A clatter of metal was the sole warning I had before a hole in the ceiling suddenly opened, and the Doctor came tumbling down to the floor, landing in an ungraceful heap of rainbow plaid. Nonetheless, he rose to his feet with all the dignity of an Olympic gymnast who'd just landed a perfect somersault.
not to sound like a broken record but i would Die for this idiot
withholding myself from using more quotes to illustrate my unbridled love for the sixth doctor whom..........
"You might regret not helping me with this one day," she [the Rani] called over to us. "Your next regeneration may be sooner than you think."
Huh. I Wonder What That's Referring To
RIPPLE EFFECT
From the look on his face, Ace reckoned that a visit to the Time Lords was something similar to her having to visit the dentist back on Earth.
i mean to be fair.....the time lords are a whole lot worse although in this case the doctor's reasons for not wanting to visit are: (i) they're 'old, boring and judgemental' (ii) they have stupid clothes and a stupid non-intervention policy (iii) they treat him 'like a naughty schoolboy' (can't have that in front of your companion!)
i apparently didn't have many comments to make on this one. um...it was good. i liked the idea of an alternate universe with nice daleks. MOVING ON
SPORE
"They're all dead....everyone's dead, flesh turned to liquid. It moves...There are things! Moving things! They're alive..." Major Platt looked up at the Doctor. "The caller became incoherent after that and disconnected shortly after." The Doctor drummed his fingers thoughtfully against the top of the aluminium folding-table between them. "Hmm...That really doesn't sound very good."
YEAH YA THINK?
"I was at the opera," the Doctor explained, "when my phone went off."
this is his excuse for That outfit. really just copying everything from grace here huh
THE BEAST OF BABYLON
She also didn't yet know that he wasn't a man at all.
yeah cos he's non-binary duh
"So now we're landing on Earth," he shouted, "two thousand years before the birth of Christ..." "Who?" "He was a bit like Sherlock Holmes. Knew the answers to everything. Very good at solving mysteries. Some humans use him to measure time."
obsessed with the implications of this dialogue...
THE MYSTERY OF THE HAUNTED COTTAGE
absolutely love the concept of this one...a world created from martha's memories of reading a famous five expy as a child
"What?" Martha said defensively, keeping her voice down. "That's how he was described in the books. Don't blame me. This was 1951. Everything back then was blinkered, sexist, and ever-so-slightly racist. It was a backward time." "Ah, yes," said the Doctor, "because 2007 has none of those things."
vibe with this convo
"Am I lonely?" Martha asked. "You're a particle of dust," the Doctor said. "Of course you're not lonely." "I sound lonely." "Well you're not; you're having a great time."
this conversation where the doctor tells martha to imagine herself as a particle of dust has exactly the same kind of energy as discussions you have at 3am at a sleepover
NOTHING O'CLOCK
Amy looked irritated. She wasn't irritated, but she liked to give him the impression she was, just to show him who was boss.
yeah...
ok the villains in this one are actually really fucked up like. it's been a While since i read it now because i procrastinated on making these notes but they were Good creepy. thank you mr gaiman.
LIGHTS OUT
now THIS is one where the pov heavily contributes to the story...
He turns to look at me with piercing, hollow-set grey eyes, then furrows his impressive silvery brows. "I'm buying a coffee," he says. "For a girl."
so THAT'S why twelve took so long to find coffee for clara......he wasn't buying it on earth. good vibes
TIME LAPSE
i absolutely LOVE the concept for this one, which is that the year 2004 completely disappears from records
A typed envelope reading The Doctor, The TARDIS, Ex-Gallifrey followed by a long string of numbers, letters, and things that probably were letters but looked like they came from about eight different languages.
obsessed with the fact that (i) you can apparently send letters to the tardis, like it has an actual address (mel throwing a message in a bottle into space doesn't seem so unreasonable now huh...) (ii) part of this address is 'ex-gallifrey'
this dude gets rejected. and is so badly embarrassed that he erases 2004 from existence. i promise i'm not making this up.
#laura reads dw books#long post#oof i promise the other one i've got notes for isn't this long.....i just had a lot of Thoughts#aside from eoin colfer's i actually really enjoyed all the stories! would highly recommend this collection
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Favorite Character Tropes as Wish Fulfillment?
I wrote that title after I analyzed this stuff because I realized a thing about myself I was unaware of. I always get attached to the Same Character. Like, they are literally the same person in different stories. And I want to know why. So I did a little digging and thinking and all that good, good stuff.
Here are a few examples of my typical favorite character
Charlie from Lost
Virgil from Sanders Sides
Philip from Travelers
the Doctor from Doctor Who (specifically 10)
Klaus from Umbrella Academy
Stiles from Teen Wolf
Riley from Sense 8
Cisco from Flash
Peter Pan from any version of this story
Jim from the Office
Peter from Heroes
Merlin from Merlin
Will from Hannibal
Felix from Orphan Black
Chuck from Chuck
Josh (the werewolf ) from Being Human
Jessica from Jessica Jones
Castiel from Supernatural
Loki from Marvel
Skylar from Heroes
Sherlock from Sherlock
Zuko from The Last Airbender
Killian from Once Upon a Time
I could probably find more but you get the idea
General similarities seem to be:
out of 23
21 are male?
15 have some type of addiction/problem they have difficulty controlling? (drugs, attention, adventure, eating people, killing people, ya know, etc)
17 have a secret
‘neuro-divergent’ in some way? (ADD, PTSD anxiety, depression, something? the kids are not alright)
All 23 have grey morals (probably chaotic good-ish? they all would break the rules for a good reason or get what they want)
19 have a crappy homelife/large tragedy in the past
20 have ‘superpowers/special ability’
18 are physically weak in appearance
18 are Underdogs, underestimated but actually powerful/very intelligent?
7 have a redemption arch
17 have dark hair lol
18 have a sarcastic, sense of humor
14 talk too much
mostly white in one form or another :/
So... why?? Why do I tend to like these characters more than others?
male. I am female and there are a few female characters that I LOVE. They happen, but, in all honesty, they are far and few in between. Wonder Woman, Jessica Jones, Hermione, Rey, Riley, Rory (Gilmore girls) Perhaps it is the way girls are often written? I like Jessica Jones because she is a hilarious mess and I relate. Same with... all of the ones I like, actually. They have that grey-moral vibe of real people, but lack the sexy Cat Woman, I’m-so-bad-I-can-kill-you-with-my-massive-butt-and-boobs?? Thing?? yeah? how unfortunate. They are small breasted or, at least, that is not drawn attention to too much. Could it be. holy moly, ya’ll. could it be I like women characters when they’re written... like people? like. like, as if girls are screwed up humans! not objects?? isn’t that incredible.
srry but not srry
an addiction. now, why do I tend to go here? Its a kind of a painful trope. They always go back, and back and back again to what we know is horrible for them. Perhaps there is enjoyment in watching the struggle and seeing them inevitably win their struggle, whatever it is? The strength to conquer the darkness within themselves and do the right thing. It might just make you think you can conquer your own battles?? Maybe I feel like I can relate in some sort of way, going back to old habits, struggling to be the person I want to be. Year after year of the same new year goals...
a secret. This is honestly just a nice trope and its neat, fun writing. Creates tension, and it is usually connected to the addiction. You get invested in this secret!!! It builds up to the inevitable discovery of that secret and the aftermath and all the reactions of their friends. (merlin, Will graham, chuck, etc.)
Neurodivergent. I think this is just me relating to these people. I have bouts of depression and anxiety and am currently researching the possibility of having ADD (thats a whole new weird thing idek) so this is just something that I think I see in myself.
Grey-morals. Again. This is my moral alignment, shocker. So, again, me relating to the characters. Also, characters that obviously have flaws are just well-written, well-rounded characters? No one is actually Clark Kent. characters that seem perfect either come off as plastic and fake because real people do not act like that, or they come off as kind of creepy?? because they must have some darkness lurking beneath the surface (when this is done on purpose, i actually like this quite a lot. Rose Quartz is an example of a character who seemed perfect on the surface, but as the show moved on, is revealed to be a Real Disaster Queen. she isn’t evil, just kind of a brat, but that redeemed what seemed to be sloppy storytelling because it was realistic)
Tragic past. This is just something that authors give to Disaster People to justify their screwed-up-ness. Course, not all of them had tragic pasts, but something bad happened to all of them (except Jim from the Office I think??, but then again, that is a sitcom...)
Special Ability Again, wish fulfillment. Not even gonna lie. I often feel powerless and out of control, this Freaks Me Out. I think there is comfort in seeing the ‘little guy’ (aka le me) having with a BAMF hashtag
Weak And once more on Relatable-Station. This is in connection with relating to feeling and looking powerless, but finding comfort in the secret strength these characters have whether through supernatural means, superior intelligence, biting humor, a quick tongue, etc.
Underestimated the cap on this trio. The last 3 points could be summed up as one thing. A weak, underestimated person actually has some secret strength. These characters might just be a coping mechanism I have to deal with feeling weak and overlooked and powerless, whether or not those feelings accurately portray reality. I wonder where those feelings came from in the first place.
A redemption arch This trope is often a result of having grey morals. These also help deal with feelings of inadequacy or guilt in the reader?? It makes you think, if they can be loved, surely I can. (i am really dragging myself in this post, which was not the plan lol but here we are)
Dark hair/brown hair. I have dark hair, I also wanted black hair as a child and found it very beautiful. Also, I think the dark hair goes with the personality trope as a Screw Up. Not gonna lie, messy brown/black hair on boys and girls, honestly, but the short messy thing, is great. and when they go evil for a bit and the hair gets Extra Messy?? That. That’s. Good. (for reference see: Stiles, Killian, Peter, Virgil, Loki)
Sarcastic my flavor of humor. this is turning into the realization that we do, in fact, like characters we relate to the most. I thought that might be far fetched because I’m ‘nothing like’ these characters, but let's get real. They’re me but as a cute boy or girl.
Talk too much This isn’t me. but This is who I want to be, I think. I’ve always struggled with anxiety about being the quiet one while my brother was so much better at talking, making friends, etc. so this is, again, wish fulfillment. i swear i didn’t think this was going to be this self-indulgent but i obviously was wrong
White They aren’t all white. Zuko is Asian. Cisco’s actor is Columbian American. But that’s... thats a really small amount of diversity. Like, I’m concerned. (when i say white btw, I don’t mean just American or British or whatever, because there are characters on here that are from all over. I just mean overall white-looking for the sake of this analysis)
So, First Hypothesis: prejudice is very ingrained and even with good intentions, i could be subconsciously avoiding characters that are POC??? If this is all a ‘projecting myself’ thing, then I relate to white people the most? Im sure im screwing this up, but i’m not gonna chicken out and avoid this because thats what I’d usually do to keep from dumbly saying something offensive, but if I dont address a problem, then no one is getting anywhere
Second Hypothesis: Its been known the fiction industry as a whole has a problem with representation,,, I don’t want to discount me being white, but I don’t think this is just me and my tiny entitled butt. There probably isn’t as much access to that type of character for POC. How often do creators have well-rounded, stick-around-for-a-long-time, flawed, funny, sometimes-problematic-but-well-meaning characters that are also POC? not often enough. Maybe it’s not always on purpose. But because of ‘Diversity Points’, character development might get pushed aside, and then the character’s personality becomes Their Race, which is... a crappy way to build a character? The industry has a hard enough time with diversity in general. Maybe people just don't write POC as that type of character. Which makes characters like Cisco unique. I’ve never even thought about that... Good on you, Flash writer crew.
let's fix this??
need more Ciscos???
if any POC feels inclined to call me out on my bull or give their insight (only if you want to, of course), pls do.
In conclusion: this was interesting, and it makes sense, I guess, why people like different types of characters if their favorite characters are projections in one way or another of them. I’m not saying that we all relate to our favorite characters, but me, because I have this weird, dozen or more of the same type of character that I love, it might be reasonable to assume there’s something about that character I see in myself or wish I saw in myself? Anyway, an interesting thought. What do you guys think? Do you see yourself in your favorite characters?
This has been an honest essay that got too long. I wish I was as invested in writing school essays as I am in Tumblr posts.
#i didn't think this would be this long#writing#character#analysis#writer#teen wolf#doctor who#sanders sides#sherlock#supernatural#being human#avengers#marvel#moral grey#moral alignment#intraspection#flash#chuck#heroes#jessica jones#travelers#sense 8#merlin#hannibal#last airbender#zuko#once upon a time#killian jones#discourse#thoughts
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London has been a stop on my journeys a lot. I can’t avoid mentioning how many cool things you can discover there. Things that most of the tourists actually are not aware of. Especially by using some fancy and expensive guidebooks or, even worse, prepared trips by some company. Being indoors of Buckingham Palace was never my ambition. I’d rather jump in some huge bookstore. Or in some unknown place that is not completely overcrowded with tourists. I can absolutely relate to Claude Monet who despised tourists while being one. These people are nuts.
So here’s my pocket travel guide or things that geeks and nerds might find mind-blowing. Nothing much, just some hints I’ve discovered by myself. Because trust me, whenever I am in this city, it is completely different. I had believed that after this trip I would have most of my “To-Visit” list checked. Well, I’ve found even more fun stuff to discover!
Platform 9 ¾
This one’s cheesy, I know. I’ve been a Potterhead my whole life but my trips have never got me there. Took a few pictures of this damn trolley but wasn’t exactly eager to wait in this huge queue to get a picture of me. Well, not a fan of these anyway. It seemed fun though. You get a wand and a house scarf of your choice. Not sure if you have to pay 10 pounds for your own pictures but it sounds quite ridiculous to me.
I was actually more interested in the Potter shop there. It was everything and nothing I’ve expected. There were damn owl cages stuck to the ceiling and people saying “There’s a ghost in that section” whenever some things fell or something. I felt magical there. But the shop itself is magically overpriced. I need to buy my scarf eventually but maybe not there since it is over 30 pounds. At least books are quite all right.
Anyway, it’s a necessary stop for Potterheads and, to be honest, it is amazing even if you’re not exactly a fan of the series.
Details: it’s not on the actual platform which is kind of sad but luckily there’s no need to enter to the platforms which you know… costs money. If you’d like to run between 9th and 10th platform be my guest but muggles will get you down soon enough.
House of Minalima
Getting not so far from Pottermania, this one is so damn cool. I wouldn’t have found it without my Londoner friend and I’m so glad. It’s a house made by Potterheads for Potterheads. It is a shop on the ground floor, but everything else is amazing. It has a chimney with the letters falling out of it, a lot of film props and a nice small corridor with Wanted wizard posters. Not necessarily a very fancy place but definitely a pearl in this huge city. This is something that may be easily overlooked if you don’t have a clue about it.
Details: Soho
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Soho
I find nothing fancy in there but anyone enjoying any kind of Asian culture would get a nice vibe. You can buy all kinds of stuff from Japan or Korea. I assume anyone visiting London knows about that place already so it’s just a mention.
221B Baker Street and Sherlock Museum
I am still unable to accept how many great things London has because of… Scots. Arthur Conan Doyle was one of them and here I am discovering his greatest fictional characters interiors in the centre of London. I felt a little off being there and I wanted to shout that Sherlock was never really here, but it seemed plenty of people got that weird belief he was an actual person. Well, Sherlock fame may be a little low at the moment but it is not making him less popular.
The museum itself is lovely, though. It has small interiors with a lot of Victorian-era items which are real and were actually used back then. And the rooms are incredibly detailed. Obviously, everything is based on the books themselves. So there’s that skull, Victoria bust, make-up set and everything else Sherlock used. You can find a lot of resemblances between these and the series with Benedict Cumberbatch. I was always amazed how detailed the series is and how they tried to create Sherlock to be true to his Victorian self. The film with Robert Downey Jr is fun but it does not have these similarities. It’s not, you know, very British, to be fair.
Then there’re also a bunch of wax figures that shows the famous characters themselves and a few people from the most popular cases. Obviously, Moriarty is there, too. What I enjoyed was also plenty of things connected to the cases as well. A painting of hounds might be my favourite but there’re a few more I’ll let you discover on your own.
Details: 15 pounds entrance; You need to buy a ticket in the store next to the 221B door; Baker Street
Film Museum
It was not what I’ve expected. Well, I might have hoped for something more but apparently, the exhibitions are changing quite often. So for me, it was rather a James Bond museum than a Film one.
It was incredible nonetheless. There are actual cars used in the films and a lot of props I couldn’t believe were reachable. I was happy to see an ID for Ben Whishaw’s Q, but it’s me. I guess a lot of men (generalizing here) would be happy to see the actual Aston Martin. I’m a complete ignorant of the cars subject but I know my man was in some kind of heaven. And not only Bond’s cars are there. A lot of villains models are there as well. Do not ask me which. Car ignorant. But good looking ones.
Furthermore, there were a lot of other vehicles including boats and planes from the Bond films, too. Apart from these, if you’re not interested – tuxes. Not necessarily ones with bullet holes or something but the sharp and handsome ones.
Details: 15 pounds (concession 9.50 for students); Covent Garden
SIS Building
Being in the Bond subject there’s MI6 building I find cool to see. You know, the one from the films. It’s literally a Secret Intelligence Service building. And it’s actually easily reachable while strolling next to the Thames. Just hope for a nice weather.
There’re plenty of other secret agencies buildings throughout London if you’re only eager to search for those so good luck there. Maybe they’ll appreciate your secret skills after such search, eh?
Shopping time!
Forbidden Planet
This is my go-to place whenever I’m in London. Usually, I visit it a couple of times not to miss any deliveries. This is literally my heaven. You get two floors of geek stuff. The ground floor is full of figurines of all kinds and other collectables. Oh, and there’s a huge glassed exhibition with most beautiful figures (and most pricey). So just dive in the world with all kinds of stuff your heart might desire.
The basement is more of a brain desire. It’s full of comics and books and everything paper. You can find a cute bargain only by making a research in their older comics or find a book you’ve been looking for. Personally, I still love their special stuff such as Fight Club comic with Chuck Palahniuk autograph. Pricey, but damn, worth it. There’s very small count of times I leave Forbidden Planet empty-handed.
Details: Covent Garden
Disney Store
You can find everything on Oxford Street. And Disney store is the one you really want to enter. Even just for a quick look, it’s worth checking out. There’s even that damn carriage from Cinderella. And obviously, everything that Disney has rights to, which includes Marvel merchandise. Who knows, maybe it’ll include all Fox-related stuff as well?
Anyway, it’s a fun shop to enter. If you’re in need of a Funko related to Disney then it has quite normal prices. And there’s some stuff only available in their stores so it’s worth checking just to be sure.
Details: Oxford Street
HMV
Recently HMV got worse than ever with their prices but old love forgives a lot. I’ve been checking out this store since my very first London trip and it has changed greatly with time, especially since there’s not many HMVs left now. But if you’re in need of some culture related item it’s worth checking out, especially since it’s right in front of Disney Store.
WHat’s in there? Everything and nothing, actually. They used to have only music and films, but right now there’re also shirts, Funko Pops and other geek gizmos, plenty of books and comics and so on. So basically if your needs aren’t covered anywhere else, it’s worth checking. Sometimes they have some bargains you could enjoy.
Details: Oxford Street
Lego Store
It’s a new one. I mean, I’ve just seen it this year. But damn, it’s almost like a small Legoland. There’s everything Lego, you can check out the bigger sets come to life on the VR and see quite a lot of cool constructions. These include Millenium Falcon, Hulkbuster, Shakespeare, Telephone Booth (1:1 size) and so on. Of course, you can build something yourself… If you’re cool with sharing with kids. And if you find a place to yourself.
But if you need a rest and level up your sugar there’s also M&Ms store right next to it, so feel free to wonder there as well.
Details: Leicester Square
Porgs!
Foyles
Everyone loves four storey bookstore! If not then you might be on a way to start. It has tons of books, comics, stationery, art albums and tons of other stuff that may just get you curious. On the top floor, there is a cute little cafe and some adorable stuff. So just don’t lose too much money there.
Camden Town + Mega City Comics
This one I haven’t visited for a while now. But I’ll hold a special place for this part of London. This store was the one I spent my last money on my very first ever comic book. That’s a kind of things you don’t forget. It was the very first sheet of Avengers vs X-men and I recommend this story from the bottom of my heart. And the place as well.
Camden Town is actually something else. It’s a place where all the possible “weirdos” get together. There’re a lot of shops for every possible subculture and it’s so damn incredible. You can find there very dark and gothic houses, a lot of punks with their mohawk being almost as long as their arms and so on. I loved it there. Everyone’s so friendly, most of them are fine with taking pictures with you. So go ahead and take a look around. Oh, and don’t forget that a lot of booths wants you to make some deals by some trading. Not my thing, actually, but just to be aware.
Is that it?
No, not really. While researching the subjects I’ve noticed plenty of other fun museums or places I’d like to visit. I’ve been hearing that WB Harry Potter tour is worth its high price so next time I might just check it out. And well, nothing stays the same, so hopefully, I’ll make a new post on the subject after my next visit!
PS. Also, this post was getting so long I decided to leave a few things for the next round. Cheers!
London for geeks London has been a stop on my journeys a lot. I can’t avoid mentioning how many cool things you can discover there.
#007#221b baker street#adventure#agent#astronomy#bookshop#bookstore#camden town#chinatown#comic book#comics#disney store#film#film museum#forbidden planet#foyles#geek#great britain#greenwich#harry potter#hmv#james bond#king cross#lego#lego store#london#museum#observatory#platform 9 3/4#pokemon
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Who Killed Markiplier: I have a theory.
Leucoray’s WKM Fan Theory #1: The Era it took place in, the 1920’s or 30’s
So warning, spoilers ahead?.... Yeah. And it’s gonna be LONG.
There are modern day references in regards toward the technology used in the WKM series; such as alarm clocks, Polaroid photographs, and colored photographs. My instincts say that a double garage wasn’t much of a thing in the yonder years, but I could be wrong. More so, I’m looking at the fashion choices in this series. Granted, there is a serious CLUE vibe going on in the series, which gives it a feeling of elegance. If my knowledge of silver screen fashions has taught me anything; that a chunk of the costumes used in Who Killed Markiplier were of the 1920’s and 30’s.
My biggest hint was from Mark’s robe ensemble with the robe and white scarf when we first see our host after we had entered the manor. Sure, he could have been modeled after the iconic Hugh Hefner, since that was his go-to look for decades, but again, how old was Hef? The guy was a little kid during the 30’s sure, but that time held a certain nostalgia, not just for Hefner but for America in general. The Robe look came to popularity in the 1920’s and has held its place as an iconic upper-class look.
Abe, The Detective’s look was likely the easiest to replicate. Granted, fedoras were more of a thing compared to deerstalker hats. But, we needed to know he was a detective at a glance, to reassure the solidity of the character; therefor, using a trademark garment for a detective inspired by Sherlock Holmes, which was quite the rage in the film industry during- da- da-da- the 20’s and onward! The Detective Noir that seems to designate around Abe, again, it fits the era.
Damien, the Mayor’s look is clean and sharp, a standard and well-tailored suit were well associated with political figures. Again, pretty easy, being as how a nice suit is pretty much timeless. Unless you have a Zoot Suit, which made their statement during the same era, were baggier and seemingly oversized for their wearer, often times associated with mobsters or other gangs. An official of the state or country wouldn’t be caught dead in such a thing.
And either he needed it or not, canes could have been considered as a fashion accessory, especially for upper-class men.
William, The Colonel’s look, admittedly a bit tricky. Thankfully, he’s eccentric!
It seems this particular uniform was one of British descent in the 1900’s. All things considered, it wouldn’t be uncommon for a veteran to wear their old uniform. Especially if it gives him solidarity when occasionally delusional.
As a bonus, there’s an apparent Teddy Roosevelt air about the guy too.
With the bold mustache and the catchphrase “Bully!” and all that. Teddy Roosevelt was in office from 1901-1909, died in 1919. He was rather iconic, and seemed to be the man’s man as it were; someone the Colonel very likely idolized. Which can still be within the parameters of the 1920’s theory?
And finally Celine, the Seer’s look, modest yet elegant, but also to show off that fiery personality.
This is where the fashion theory may be strained a bit.
Celine seems to be wearing a pillbox hat with a veil. Pillbox hats came to fruition in the 1930’s, as cited here http://www.fashionencyclopedia.com/fashion_costume_culture/Modern-World-1946-1960/Pillbox-Hats.html. It still has that bubble of being between the 20’s and 30’s, but just barely so.
If this series did take place in the glamorous years of the 30’s or 20’s, it might be safe to say that these past events happened in a previous life for the Markiplier universe.
Consider this: Warfstache and Darkiplier both seem to ignore the rules of physics, right? Normal humans can’t do that. What if Warfstache died sometime after Darkiplier came back? Darki’s already dead technically, so he’s more or less a phantom fueled by the ever eternal rage and resentment. Colonel William is not sane by the end of the series, in fact, he’s in a delusional denial that anything bad really happened. He could have accidentally killed himself, or intentionally when he started to put some truths together and no longer had the willpower to endure the reality. William becomes Wilford as he exists in a sort of Mad-Hatter state of existence. Wilford is always smiling, he is blissfully ignorant of the laws around himself and has no morality what so ever; he is absolutely chaotic. Meanwhile, Darkiplier is cold, resigned and speaks calmly when he can help it, but you know he’s boiling on the inside.
But what about Mark? He ran off with Damien’s real body didn’t he? Supposedly, yes, I’d agree with that. However! Let’s consider the personality that the Mark has expressed in this series. This Mark is charismatic and easy to like, sure, but through the verbal testimonies of some of the characters, he’s not the best friend or boss to have. He took the Mayor’s identity, through some black-magical means, then supposedly gets away scot-free? Perhaps. But that’s a theory for another time. Getting back on track, saying that Mark got away with Damien’s life but still fell into old habits. After all, he took what he wanted, why would there be a lesson to learn? Likely he crashed and burned again as Damien, maybe via consumption and died unremarkably. He reincarnates into the lovable boi we know today to make up for his outrageous behavior in his past life, rather he’s aware of it or not. Darkiplier and Warfstache are drawn to him like a magnet to iron shavings; they know him and have the instinct to torment him in some way. Either it’s stabbing him for no reason during an interview or simply looming over him to hijack the life that was taken away.
By all means, I am open to having discussions over this, it has been such a muse for me lately.
#wkm#who killed markiplier#fan theory#Damien#Celine#the Colonel#Markiplier#Darkiplier#wilford warfstache#abe detective#might be obsessing a little...
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For the week of 16 October 2017
This was a really busy week with some really great comics, endings, beginnings, middles, that resulted in four comics vying for a favourite spot. Doctor Strange #26 by John Barber and Niko Henrichon, Kid Lobotomy #1 by Peter Milligan and Tess Fowler, Maestros #1 by Steve Skroce, and Sherlock Frankenstein & The Legion of Evil #1 by Jeff Lemire and David Rubín. Published by Marvel, IDW/Black Crown, Image, and Dark Horse respectively.
Doctor Strange #26 is technically the second of two self-contained fill-in issues written by John Barber before the new regular team comes aboard, but both last issue with art by Kevin Nowlan and this issue, the last illustrated by Niko Henrichon, have been wonderful. This issue in particular makes me wonder what Barber and Henrichon could have done together for a longer period of time.
John Barber gives us a story that is essentially a dungeon delve, Strange and his assistant, Zelma, travel through abandoned NYC subway tunnels in search of lost relics. As they do so, they stumble upon a team of adventurers who were trapped eons ago driven somewhat mad, and possessed, by the evil that lurked in the temple. Dungeon crawlers are one of my favourite types of RPGs and invariably I love when they show up in fiction as well. Barber does a great job presenting the genre and, since magic is still a scarcity, relevant to the current Strange status quo. There are also some wonderful character moments, building upon the almost humility that Strange has had since Jason Aaron’s run and the humorous interaction between master and student.
It also helps that Niko Henrichon’s artwork is perfectly suited for this kind of mix of horror and fantasy. His designs for the adventurers, especially after they’ve essentially become revenants, is wonderful.
Kid Lobotomy #1 is the launch issue for IDW’s Black Crown imprint curated by former Vertigo editor, Shelly Bond, written by Peter Milligan and illustrated by Tess Fowler, and it is pure, unadulterated glorious madness. To me, this feels like those early heady days of the Vertigo imprint back in the early to mid-’90s, when it seemed like everything was brilliant and beautifully strange, with weird and wonderful ideas flowing. This first issue captures that spirit, the essence, and creates something new.
The setting, characters, and narrative set out from Peter Milligan is suitably bizarre. On its top level, this is a bit of sibling rivalry over property as Kid and Rosebud fight over the hotel, the Suites, that their father, Big Daddy, has left to Kid to run. Of course, Kid and Rosebud have an odd incestuous relationship, or at least seem to have had when they were children, whereas now it’s unclear when something is still going on or if everything now is just Kid’s hallucinations and nightmares. There’s also the hotel itself, populated with strange guests and stranger staff-- ghost children cleaning service and a shape-changing maid who doubles as the bartender and might be Franz Kafka’s youngest sister (who died in 1943 if you’re wondering)--and a “turn down service” of giving New Lobotomy procedures to help excise particularly nasty memories.
That’s the other bit, Kid, has been suffering rock star malaise for some time, tried to kill himself, so Big Daddy invested into curing him, coming eventually to the “cut up” technique of New Lobotomy and Kid has become the resident practitioner of the hotel. It makes me wonder if Milligan’s also playing with our conception of what’s truly happening here, whether some of Kid’s memories are real or not, or if maybe he thinks he was a member of a band because he ate the excised portions of the brain of a man obsessed with the band’s lyrics. There’s nothing to necessarily hint at that, but there are enough presentations of things not being as they seem that it’s a possibility.
And then there’s Tess Fowler’s art. It too has hints of some of the memory of Vertigo stalwarts, a bit of Richard Case, some Luca Rossi, a little Philip Bond, and a taste of Mark Buckingham, resulting in some wonderful artwork that perfectly suits the story. The character designs are great, and as per the reveal of the main lobby at the hotel (as above), they make me wonder about the story of these guests just based on look alone. I want to know more about the girl with wings and a tail, the woman who looks like The Crypt Keeper in an ornate gown, what exactly is attached to the tentacles, and, of course, the normal looking guy with the briefcase.
This is a great first issue and a great launch for Black Crown. I’ve very excited to see what’s to come both from this series and from the future publications.
Maestros #1 is the latest return to comics by Steve Skroce, this time both as writer and artist on this new series. Maestros taps in to some of the same irreverent fantasy as Curse Words, but does so in a familial way.
The first issue introduces us to Will, the last surviving son of the Kahzar bloodline, the magicians or “maestros” that shape and control the known multiverse. His entire family has been decimated by a mad wizard, Mardok, and his army of weird slug and venus fly trappy-type things and now Mardok’s attention has turned to Will in order to finish the job. In comes Will’s mother, Margaret, armed with a trusty talking sword to save him. Cue flashback to Will’s adolescence and awkward moments with family as he learns that he’s got magical blood.
Skroce’s story is indeed the traditional sad boy finds out that he’s special a la Harry Potter, it’s even reference in text, but it’s turned a bit on its ear partially because of the dark humour that’s peppered throughout the story, as well as the fact that the magicians really are pompous dicks that you don’t really feel bad about all of them being slaughtered. You are made to care about Will and his mother, but it’s interesting to see our mundane Earth made special and more pure, as well as its residents, through our lack of magic that runs through the rest of the multiverse.
As usual, Skroce’s art is gorgeous. After the relative normalcy of We Stand on Guard, it’s nice that he’s cutting loose again with some weird fantasy. Like many, I first saw his art on Ectokid for Clive Barker’s Razorline from Marvel and it’s pleasant to see him go back to something raw, strange, and magical.
It’s also fun to see that on Earth this occurring in the lower mainland of British Columbia. Skroce throws in some references like Mugs n Jugs and Abraham’s Books that are sure to amuse BC buds.
Sherlock Frankenstein and the Legion of Evil #1 spins out of Jeff Lemire and Dean Ormston’s Black Hammer series, following on particularly from #12, with Black Hammer’s daughter, Lucy, investigating his disappearance following the confrontation with Anti-God. The series is written by Lemire, with art by David Rubín who had also illustrated the two issues of Black Hammer that focused more completely on this story arc (#9&12). You needn’t necessarily have read any of Black Hammer before, though, as this arc takes place before the mothership and can largely be read on its own.
First, I need to reiterate that David Rubín’s art is absolutely amazing. His character designs are whimsical, intricate, and immensely interesting, perfectly fitting the oddity of the Black Hammer world. His depiction of Sherlock Frankenstein galumphing around in a giant mechanical robostrocity looks like the kind of madness I’m used to seeing leap off the page from Guy Davis’ tenure on BPRD. His page layouts and panel transitions, as well, are incredibly inventive. Just above there’s a spread in a spiral, leading to the central chamber, complete with snapshots of the various villains housed in this facility. Not only is it visually interesting, it manages to convey a fair amount of information about the inhabitants in one go. Great synergy between art and writing.
Second, Lemire is firing on all cylinders here. Perfectly mixing the sense of oddity, family, and nostalgia for old school superheroes that permeates the main Black Hammer series, but also bringing the mystery back to the forefront here. This first issue sees Lucy decide that trying to find the heroes has yielded nothing substantial, so she’s going to investigate their villains, particularly the guy at the top, Sherlock Frankenstein. She visits Spiral Asylum to find clues, especially from one of Frankenstein top henchmen, Mectoplasm. Lemire does a great job of making us feel for the guy, who turns out to be a child dragged from the afterlife and forced into a life of crime in a giant containment suit . It’s weird, but it fits.
Overall, I’m interested to see how this fills in some more of the backstory. I also wonder if it’s going to lead more to the relationship between Frankenstein and Golden Gail, although there’s no hint of it here.
Quick Bits:
All-New Guardians of the Galaxy #12 acts a kind of prelude to the Guardians’ upcoming Infinity Stones quest, as they swing by Earth to see if any of Marvel’s cognoscenti might have come across any of them. They also pick up a new member. This is also a fairly decent jumping on point, before the series adopts its Legacy numbering and starts a new arc. The art from Rod Reis is also phenomenal.
| Published by Marvel
Animosity #10 continues the investigation of the missing bees, with Jesse stumbling upon a somewhat strange farming community, and a familiar face in Mittens. Marguerite Bennett also gives us some more backstory on Jesse’s parents before The Wake. I’m interested in where this is going.
| Published by AfterShock
Animosity: Evolution #1 continues on from The Rise limited series, but still manages to stand on its own fairly well introducing, or re-introducing, us to the characters and the situation of the growing animal society in San Francisco. It’s nice to see this expansion into another side of the Animosity world. The politics and intrigue of the story certainly give off more of an Animal Farm vibe than the mothership, but it’s a welcome difference.
| Published by AfterShock
Critical Role: Vox Machina - Origins #2 ropes in Scanlan and Grog into the story through the raid and looting of a temple, wherein they find a vial tying back into the curse introduced in the first issue. It’s not quite as funny as the real thing, but Matthew Colville again does a great job of capturing the characters’ voices and provides an amusing addition to the story.
| Published by Dark Horse
Deadpool vs. Old Man Logan #1 is a great first issue, especially considering that Mike Henderson’s is truly wonderful. Declan Shalvey’s story is as humorous and over the top as you would expect from a battle between Deadpool and Logan and overall this is just outright fun.
| Published by Marvel
Faith & The Future Force #4 is probably not the ending that you’re suspecting. After throwing wave after repeating wave of heroes at the time-travelling genocidal robot, the finale tries a different tack in recruiting Faith’s arch-nemesis, Chris Chriswell, to combat the evil. It’s fairly inventive and a rather satisfying conclusion.
| Published by Valiant
Generation Gone #4 is pretty fucked up. The artwork by André Lima Araújo is gorgeous, but this is still one seriously messed up story.
| Published by Image
The Infinite Loop: Nothing but the Truth #2 is going to mess with you. Nothing I write can really prepare you without spoiling a lot of stuff. Just read it, it’s good. Plus, there’s a nifty Blade Runner reference.
| Published by IDW
Journey to Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Star Wars: Captain Phasma #4 concludes this limited series bridging The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi and, wow, it really shows off how single-minded, cold-hearted, and ruthless Phasma can be in her devotion to herself. Kelly Thompson has done a great job of making us care about the Pilot and the people of Luprora and...wow. I also have to reiterate that Marco Checchetto and Andres Mossa have made this the best looking Star Wars book from Marvel to date. I highly recommend this series.
| Published by Marvel
Kill or Be Killed #13 further explores the demon that has been central to the series from the beginning, but as per the rest of this arc, in a very different way. Ed Brubaker took a sharp left turn in the context of the story and it’s fascinating to see how it has changed dramatically, adding more depth and pathos, and giving a different understanding to what’s going on with Dylan. As usual, Sean Phillips’ art is stunning. Seriously, I think Brubaker and Phillips can do no wrong.
| Published by Image
Kong: Gods of Skull Island #1 is a decent one off story from Phillip Kennedy Johnson and Chad Lewis. The plot is the oft-repeated one of invading white explorers stumbling upon an existing culture to deleterious effect, but it’s largely immaterial since it’s well told.
| Published by BOOM! Studios
Made Men #2 is every bit as good as the first issue, possibly even better, as it gets into more detail about Jutte’s team and their purpose. Paul Tobin does a great job here particularly with the dialogue, really hitting up some of the police tropes in a believable and entertaining fashion. And, again, Arjuna Susini’s art just really puts it over the top. This is a great book.
| Published by Oni Press
Magnus #5 concludes what was another great entry into the current Sovereigns reinterpretation of the Gold Key characters. The artwork by Jorge Fornés has been particularly impressive. He’s got a style that reminds me of Klaus Janson and the layouts and design of the pages have been amazing.
| Published by Dynamite
The Realm #2 lives up to the promise of the first issue fairly well. The setting, somewhere between Shadowrun and Shannara, is still compelling in itself, but Seth Peck and Jeremy Haun do a great job of making us interested in finding out more about our fairly enigmatic cast of characters as well. It also helps that Haun’s art is gorgeous.
| Published by Image
ROM vs. Transformers: Shining Armor #4 makes me think that this is more of what Revolution probably should have been. Sure, it’s still filled with all out action in the battle between the two factions, Dire Wraiths/Decepticons vs. Space Knights/Autobots, but there’s a lot more cohesion here, better focus on the characters, and a fairly compelling plot. It’s not particularly complicated, but it doesn’t need to be, it’s entertaining, very well-illustrated, and the characters are engaging. John Barber, Christos Gage, and Alex Milne are doing a great job here.
| Published by IDW
Saban’s Go Go Power Rangers #4 again has some of the best art in comics today. Dan Mora is just incredible with his layouts, action, and storytelling that even if the writing from Ryan Parrott wasn’t good (and it is), this would still be a highly entertaining series.
| Published by BOOM! Studios
Secret Warriors #7 is fairly inventive as it works its way to providing a reason for why the team should still exist. Matthew Rosenberg again utilizes humour to great effect to show some of the oddity of the heroes and their situation.
| Published by Marvel
Spy Seal #3 gets to some of the meat of the mystery as this penultimate issue ups the stakes and action. This has been very fun, at the height of many of the Tintin adventures and standing out among the best of Rich Tommaso’s works.
| Published by Image
Star Wars: Poe Dameron #20 kicks off a new arc, taking a brief break back at headquarters to deal with some personal stuff, before diving headlong back into the action and intrigue. It also puts voice to one of the funnier questions we all likely had during The Force Awakens.
| Published by Marvel
Transformers: Lost Light #10 takes us back to the Lost Light and, well, as expected it isn’t pretty. I’m quite interested to see where James Roberts is going to take us as Getaway’s mutiny is certainly one of the darker political angles the series has seen recently and likely the most horrific. You’re certainly left wondering why some of the more upstanding members of the crew still aboard know about what Getaway is doing and how complicit they are in some of the more heinous actions.
| Published by IDW
They’re Not Like Us #16 continues to tear apart the status quo set previously and throw our cast into new and deadly situations. As usual, the artwork from Simon Gane is incredible.
| Published by Image
Vampirella #7, despite being Paul Cornell’s last on the series, feels a lot like the series’ take on Moore’s “Anatomy Lesson”, redefining the character and her universe. New writer Jeremy Whitley co-writes this one, so there’s definitely some bit of the new direction he’s going to take, but, overall, it’s an interesting presentation of how this new series fits into Vampirella’s overall publishing history and how this new version of the character will be going forward. Also, the art by Andy Belanger is fabulous.
| Published by Dynamite
War Mother #3 ramps up the stakes for Ana’s tribe, while at the same time giving us a further revelation of the nature of the tribe’s personal affairs, thus advancing Max’s own machinations. Devious little kid. Fred Van Lente also gives us some welcome humour in FLACO’s little tantrum.
| Published by Valiant
Other Highlights: Cable #150, Champions #13, Curse Words #9, Dept. H #19, Descender #25, Genius: Cartel #3, Ghost Station Zero #3, Half-Past Danger 2 #2, Heartthrob Season 2 #4, Horizon #15, Incredible Hulk #709, Invincible Iron Man #593, Kill the Minotaur #5, Luke Cage #166, Lumberjanes #43, Mage: The Hero Denied #3, The Mighty Thor #700, Misfit City #6, Mister Higgins Comes Home, Monsters Unleashed #7, Optimus Prime: First Strike #1, Rashomon, Riverdale #7, ROM: First Strike #1, Shirtless Bear-Fighter #5, Spider-Gwen #25, Star Wars Adventures #3, TMNT Universe #15, Venom #156, X-Men Gold #14
Recommended Collections: Black Panther & The Crew: We Are the Streets, Cutter, Darkness Visible - Volume One, Deviations Beta, Giant Days - Volume Four, I Hate Fairyland - Volume Three: Good Girl, Jean Grey - Volume One: Nightmare Fuel, Low - Deluxe Hardcover Volume One, Plastic, Spider-Gwen - Volume Four: Predators, Star Wars Adventures - Volume One
d. emerson eddy does not seem to have an invisible touch. He can’t reach in and grab right hold of your heart. His hand just kind of hits your chest and it’s all kinds of awkward and he apologizes.
#This Week in Comics#Doctor Strange 26#John Barber#Niko Henrichon#Kid Lobotomy 1#Peter Milligan#Tess Fowler#Maestros 1#Steve Skroce#Sherlock Frankenstein & The Legion of Evil 1#Jeff Lemire#David Rubin
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12x09 - Episode Review - Too Much Heart Always Was His Problem.
Can I just say that as a staunch Cas girl this episode made me so happy. (I’m not a masochist promise) If you watched this episode thinking that Cas was getting a raw deal or that he was struggling or in pain then YES you are right! He was! But this is his story arc at play and in the first episode back of the second half of this season the showrunner decided that he would take front and centre stage. If you don’t believe me re-watch the episode, Castiel was its emotional centre.
I love Andrew Dabb for this reason. We have at least two Cas-centric episodes coming up and this was not supposed to be one of them, but of course how could he resist not focusing on his fave?
I will explain and get onto my review in a moment but I just wanted to emphasise this (and maybe also rub it in a bit in my own smug way against the Cas haters lol).
Anyway. Review under the cut...
Castiel (aka My Beautiful Angel of Humanity, Angel of Tears, Angel of my broken fucking heart and fictional love of my life)
Now as far as a standalone episode goes, the first 20 minutes bored me honestly, the last 20 minutes were awesome. It was rather unbalanced, with the only moments in the first half that really got me interested were Cas’s moments. I guess I’m just not a fan of government related stories or seeing the Winchesters stuck in one place not saying anything. But I enjoyed it overall. If it wasn’t for Misha basically owning that episode I wouldn’t have liked it because the escaped fugitive with the soldiers chasing after you thing just doesn’t do it for me, but Castiel getting a heavy emotional arc? Oh yeah. That does it. That hits the sweet spot.
This is an episode where Sam and Dean spend the majority of their screen time in cold defiant silence, before playing up their serial killer vibe as fugitives in their escape plan. Where Mary Winchester spends most of the episode seemingly going through the motions (anyone see major similarities with Buffy in season 6 *cue the singing*) and not exactly expressing herself in the best of ways, and where the remaining lead characters are the secret service men; one of whom only cares about getting info and the other who “wants them punished… wants to look Dean Winchester in the eye and wants him to feel it” and the British Men of Letters who, lets be honest, are a prime example of highly functioning sociopaths (to quote Sherlock) in smart suits with British accents. Castiel stands out because where every other characters primary motivations seems to be to help themselves (whether it be an escape plan, an ambition, a goal or just a distraction technique) Castiel spends his time only thinking of others. His selflessness and feelings of worthlessness have come right back to the front line and his struggle is evident throughout. It breaks my heart to watch him blame himself time and time again for things that were primarily out of his control. Of course this all escalates until Cas makes a decision that whilst still in line with his lack of self care, is very selfish in a way.
The episode was written this way purposely (as I will never believe that Dabb writes Cas moments without a very clear intent behind them). He has been framed as the heart of this episode, he wears his heart on his sleeve and it builds to the final moments where Cas ways up his choices and takes action against Billie. Once again, in true Dabb fashion, we are shown Castiel being brought down again and again (though this time by internal forces rather than the external forces of 11x10) until he makes a very rash decision based on the same principal as always with Castiel. To save a Winchester. What will the repercussions of this be? Billie said there could be consequences on a cosmic scale. I guess we will have to wait and see.
The initial argument with Mary, the conversation with Crowley, the failed vampire hunt, the phone call with Dean, asking for the help of the BMOL, the long drawn on moment where he watches the Winchesters reunite with emotion heavy on his face, finding out that they had dealt with their lives once again. All of these moments escalated in Cas’s mind to the point where he became fed up. He wasn’t going to lose the people he loves. His speech at the end had me in tears:
“You know this world? This sad, doomed little world. It needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get, and I won't let you die. I won't let any of you die. And I won't let you sacrifice yourselves, you mean too much to me. To everything. Yeah, you made a deal. A stupid deal, and I broke it. You're welcome.”
Oh Cas. In his own mind, this is his motivation in a nutshell. Once upon a time Cas may have been motivated by a desire to do good for the world. To ultimately be a force for good for all humanity but he hasn’t been that in a long time. His motivations have closed in and become very personal. His motivations are preserving the lives of the Winchesters. It is the only part of him that is remotely selfish, and it is entirely rooted in love.
I just hope that this story arc for him develops to the point where he begins to see his own worth, because whilst the world may need the Winchesters, the Winchesters need him. Therefore the world needs him too.
It just occurred to me that in writing this I failed to bring up this moment:
Which was lovingly giffed for me by the awesome @godshipsit (here) and in which Misha kills me with his acting skills because LOOK at the emotion on his face. He has got them back, he sees the boys embrace their mother, and he looks on with this look of... what would you say this look is? Because it certainly doesn’t look like a guy who is just happy to have his friends back. No. That looks like a guy who is witnessing something that he longs for himself. That he feels he is separated from.
I swear to God if this season doesn’t at least end with a shot of the Winchesters all hugging and then Dean reaching an arm out and pulling Cas into that group hug I’m gonna be pissed. We need that now. After this look we definitely need it.
Mary Winchester
I said above that Mary is going through the motions, she is still struggling to fit in and even though she showed her desire to keep living at her last encounter with Billie, it is easy to tell that Mary is at a weak point at the moment. Like how Castiel is prone to make bad choices motivated by love, Mary is the same, and her offering up her own life was no different. It’s no wonder that Cas and Mary have been mirroring each other this season. They both put the brother’s lives in front of their own without much thought. I honestly thought for a while there at the end that she was gonna be killed off and I was prematurely so very angry at Dabb for that, but then I was rightly angry at Dabb for another reason anyway.
Her decision to work with the British Men of Letters will bite her in the ass of course, and for some reason the filming of it and the reveal that Mick was talking to Mary heavily reminded me of Sam’s conversation with Rowena at the end of 10x18. No good will come of this for any of them.
Sam and Dean
So I have admitted that the first 20 minutes of Winchester silent defiance bored me. Though I can appreciate the affect and filming style. If you wanna break a Winchester don’t torture them, put them in a small room and leave them there with nothing but their own thoughts for company. It will drive them crazy and they will do something drastic and stupid. I enjoyed the cabin scene and loved Sam’s “You’ll live” with the first aid box as well as his “we’re the guys who save the world”. Dean’s speech to Rick over the radio was scary. Dean definitely had his psychopath mask on “We’re not trapped out here with you, you’re trapped out here with us.” But ultimately, this all comes down to another stupid decision where a Winchester sacrifices himself to save the other. They didn’t specify which Winchester was gonna go, but lets be honest here, it was totally gonna be Dean. Dean would never let Sam give up his life for him. So Dean broke first and called Billie and offered his life to save his brother basically. Dabb is once again exploring this trend of Winchester co-dependency at its most toxic and portrays it once again as a negative thing (have I mentioned yet how much I love Dabb?) to the point where Cas calls them out on it. (I really loved Cas’ speech). Alas! I hear you cry! Will they ever learn? Well. Hopefully Dabb has a plan that includes the breakdown of the toxic co-dependency once and for all, as he continues to use it in his storylines as a bad thing and in no way romanticises it like it was in the early seasons. If this ties in with Castiel’s upcoming plot lines, this could get interesting.
I have to at least comment on the very few moments we got this episode where Dean seemed to show a hint of emotion underneath his cold exterior, because every moment (up until Mary offered herself up at least) was about Cas. The first being after the call with Cas when Sam asked “Are you gonna tell him?” to which he just answered “No”. This moment is telling because of what isn’t said. We don’t know at this point what Dean has done (because it is implied early on that it is indeed Dean who did this and instigated this escape) and the flat refusal to tell Cas isn’t because he doesn’t care about Cas at all, it’s the complete opposite, and this is evidenced later in the car scene. Dean’s refusal to tell Cas at that point how he escaped and cut him off quickly like he did was because it was too painful to even consider telling Cas that he was once again facing death. The second moment being when he first sees Cas in the woods before Sam hugs him, his face is of sheer relief and joy and yeah, when Cas goes in for the hug he smiles briefly but his attention is quickly focussed on Mary, which could be read negatively, and perhaps I am disappointed that we didn’t get more from that reunion (though we are being spoiled with Destiel hugs lately) but the kicker is when they are in the car. Once the car stutters to a halt and everyone looks around in confusion, Dean just turns and looks at Cas. We don’t see his face from the camera angle but my god that look is worth everything. Dean knows whats about to happen to him, he knows whats coming. That fleeting moment is Dean’s regret. Here:
Its everything unspoken between them. Its 6 months of complete isolation followed by only moments of reunion before this. It’s the pain and angst and heartbreak of Destiel summed up in 3 seconds of screen time. Its beautiful.
Other things
So the BMOL are interesting characters who you certainly wouldn’t trust with your life now. I do have some gripes about them though, and that is simply that I don’t get how this story started with a badass British woman taking down Sam Winchester and became two very generic looking white guys? Whats up with that? Why did they completely destroy Lady Toni’s character only to have her role be taken over by these two? Don’t get me wrong I am very intrigued by Mick and Ketch, but I miss Lady Toni (and by that I mean the Lady Toni from 11x23 and the summers fanfiction and NOT the Lady Toni from 12x01 and 12x02) Its irritating because surely Mick’s role could have just been her role?? But that’s my main issue. The other one is minor and more just a way of nursing any national pride I may have left after Brexit in that honestly we do not have two default settings of “extremely posh” and “Jason Statham style cockney” and we are not all evil sociopaths. I take a slight insult at the big bad this season being British People. Sorry America, but in the real world you guys are the ones with an evil villain running your country. We’re just going through a nasty divorce with Europe.
Crowley’s minor role was great. I enjoy his snark most of the time anyway but this line had me in stitches: “Sam and Dean, they're like herpes. Just when you think they're gone 'Hello' the boys are back leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. So wherever they are, whoever has Sam and Dean. In the immortal words of Lawrence Tureaud, 'I pity the fool.” Classic. I loved it.
I should at least thank Dabb for bringing Alesha back for a minor part. I’m glad her and her gorgeous brother are still living and doing their thing and really hope they make an appearance again.
I’m really upset about Billie’s death. She was an awesome character and I loved her take-no-bullshit attitude against the Winchester’s. I don’t think she deserved to die that way and I’m sad that Cas did it. Cas makes terrible choices when a Winchesters life is threatened. It’s sad but true. I hope that the only reason they killed her off was because of Lisa Berry’s commitments to Shadow Hunters rather than any desire to start killing off an awesome WOC character for the hell of it. This show needs more diversity. Another reason why I am clinging to the beautiful hunting twins.
My one other gripe was the lack of prayer. Where the hell were the prayers to Cas? Can he not hear prayers now? Or did the Winchesters once again suffer a major case of stupidity and forgetfulness in that they have an actual angel on their side who canonically hears prayers? What’s the deal? Someone ask Andrew Dabb to explain this because its gonna bother me as much as all his car stuff.
Aside from the minor gripes and death of Billie, it was a good episode (second half more than first) and Cas was amazing. As I’ve already said he was the heart of the episode and I need more like that where Cas’ emotions are a focal point. That speech… I just… in my watching notes I just typed “ahkgnrjagbrjhjrbrguragivbhf” as it seemed an accurate response for what I felt. We need more like that! Dammit Dabb don’t let us down!
Now I just need to get on and finish my actual Cas meta before the Cas episodes air as I still have so much to say about him and what I think Dabb is planning, but I’ll leave this here.
#supernatural#castiel#destiel#dean winchester#spn meta#episode review#spn spoilers#12x09#season 12#first blood#sam winchester#mary winchester#british men of letters#crowley#my meta#my thoughts#andrew dabb#destiel dreaming#breaking the toxic codependency#this got super long#and took me all night to write#but its done
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