#they should do more bad music ventures together

[whatthefuckisasweep]

SO i spliced jake and amir's shitty cover of torn together from the episode "Thanks for Donating" and TELL ME WHY IT'S KIND OF A BANGER????!??!!

@tdsierra ... LOVE WINS!

[miss-tc-nova]

Faults to Light - Eraqus x Xehanort

This is my piece of the @shatteredestiny-zine which I'm ever honored to be invited back to. It's really a hit to the imposter syndrome with how many amazing people worked on this. But enjoy my angst!

Art by our our amazing bishop and knight mods: Triton and Saphy!

Triton: @princess-triton & princesstriton

Saphy: @saph-y & SaphySushi

Premise: Sometimes the light is just as bad as the darkness

Words: 2,540

Music Inspiration: So Much (For) Stardust by Fall Out Boy

~~~~~

               Gray eyes gaze into the mirror. Lungs rattle his chest in spite of efforts. A white-knuckle grip on the porcelain sink relents to shove the black hair from his face.

               He didn’t imagine it.

               Across his cheek lies skin welting where the stone struck him. That’s not unusual—a common hazard of keyblade training. But the gash weeping liquid light is not.

               Fear seeps into his brain. He frantically wipes the anomaly from his face and presses a patch against the wound. There. Peering back at his reflection, all appears as it rightfully should. A practiced smile slips across his lips and the young man ventures out to go about his day.

               There’s nothing wrong.

               Black boots meet the white stone, clicking step by step through the citadel on his way to greet his master.

               This place of light hasn’t changed at all, still just as wearing on a wayward heart as always. While he can’t expect a world to alter its ways in a single year, Xehanort’s views have changed a lot. Worlds vast and varied revealed their secrets as he traveled, yet one thing remained the same everywhere he went: darkness masquerading as light. Such a familiar farce frustrated him to no end, but he couldn’t blame darkness’s tricks beneath light’s overwhelming existence. That didn’t make the dark bad or the light good; that turned out to be a false notion of those raised in light’s influence. Rather, these forces must exist together or not at all. So in the end, Xehanort returned with fewer questions than he had when he left, but gained one far more existential.

               What was his purpose?

               Those uncertainties aren’t borne before his teacher, left instead to fester in his own skull. Still, he’s praised for his journey’s outcome and instructed to rest until the day of his Mark of Mastery exam. Now row upon row of honorary stones pass him by until, finally, he comes across the collection of names he meant to find. He’s surprised to find lilies adorning each one, but only one culprit comes to mind.

               “About time you came to visit.”

               Further along the path strolls the man he was most eager to see. Gray eyes spark with delight, the usual fool’s grin stretching wide on his face. However, in spite of his elation, pulses of distress crash against Xehanort’s heart. There’s something wrong with Eraqus.

               Still, Xehanort lets a smirk twist his lips. “I had things to do, unlike some slacker I know.”

               His friend feigns insult. “Slacker? Me? Never!”

               Painful laughter rings between them. The catch up isn’t as easy as it should be. Though they speak freely, Xehanort’s thoughts are clouded with conflict.

               “So yeah, mom says once I pass the Mark of Mastery exam, I’ll inherit grandpa’s keyblade.”

               “That’s awesome. I’m sure he’d be proud.”

               Eraqus beams. “Man, I hope so. What about you? Did you find what you were looking for out there?”

               Xehanort’s eyes avert, his mind struggling to answer that particular question.

               “Are you still blaming yourself?” At Era’s new query, Xe’s eyes focus, reading the name of the blonde they used to know. “It wasn’t your fault.”

               He knows those useless words are true; there’s nothing Xehanort could have done to change the outcome. Even so, there’s more to the story than what they suffered.

               Not to Eraqus though. “If anything, what happened was because of the darkness.”

               Musings slip from Xehanort’s mouth. “I don’t think that’s true.”

               “Huh?”

               Xehanort hesitates—this conversation won’t be easy. “The light is just as much to blame as darkness.”

               That frown was inevitable. “No. It was darkness that possessed Baldr.”

               “Because the light left him vulnerable,” Xe retorts. “We were taught that the purpose of a keyblade wielder was to destroy darkness. So how do you think he felt knowing he had darkness in his heart? That he was weak? How could he not give in?”

               Xehanort searches for the right words that might finally convince his best friend to open his mind.

               “Do you think that made him a bad person?”

               Ebony brows furrow. “No. The darkness did.”

               Pain pricks at Xehanort’s heart. Perhaps Eraqus would never understand.

               “After all that happened, are you telling me you would trust the darkness?” Eraqus demands.

               His answer is honest. “Maybe.”

               Eraqus’s look of betrayal is like looking at a stranger. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

               “What?!”

               “Darkness killed our friends! What part of that don’t you understand?!”

               A wince contorts that fair face, palm pressed against the bandage. Though in the midst of an argument, Xehanort can’t help his concern.

               “Are you okay?”

               He should’ve expected Eraqus to swat away his attempt to reach out. “Don’t touch me!”

               Obeying his wish, Xehanort lets his hand fall. “Look, all I’m trying to say is that maybe the light isn’t as noble as we were taught.”

               Eraqus’s eyes burn with a hatred never seen before. “And the darkness is?! You want me to let it into my heart?! To let it take over and kill people like it did my family?! Because that’s what darkness does! It takes and destroys and it ruins lives! Is that what you want me to be?!”

               “No. That’s not what I—”

               His words are cut by the keyblade slicing the air. Though it misses Xehanort by the smallest margin, it cracks the concrete it meets instead—that swing was lethal.

               “I’m not weak like you!”

               Eraqus swings again, this time parried by Xehanort’s own keyblade and bringing about an instinctive retaliation. Xehanort’s weapon falls across Eraqus’s shoulder, sending his opponent to the ground. A wave of regret immediately crashes against Xehanort seeing his friend clutching at the injury.

               “Era—!”

               It drips between clenched fingers. Glimmering liquid collects on the pavement, each drop adding to the horror that this is coming from Eraqus. There’s something wrong with Eraqus.

               Xehanort’s voice comes out hushed. “What is that?”

               In stumbling to his feet, Eraqus keeps his head down. “It’s nothing.”

               He tries to walk away, but a hand snags the white fabric.

               “Wait!”

               “WHAT?!”

               Xehanort stutters back. Beneath his friend’s voice lies a monster’s. In Eraqus’s eyes sparks a light, seeping through and consuming every fleck of dark pigment in the gray.

               “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

               This time Xehanort’s voice fails.

               It starts in the roots, the light sprouting in Eraqus’s hair—intent on erasing everything dark about him.

               Unlike Xehanort, Eraqus has plenty of words. “If darkness didn’t exist, we wouldn’t be standing among our friend’s graves! They would still be here and you wouldn’t be deluded! There would be no more wars, no more suffering! Everything wrong with this world is darkness’s fault! And if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll destroy it!”

               Another grimace leaves him clutching at his head. Light from the open wound surges, enveloping Eraqus and leaving Xehanort to shield his eyes.

               What’s left behind when the light fades still resembles the young wielder yet somehow angelic and monstrous at the same time. Alabaster skin stretches across a gnarled, hunched frame, gangly arms dragging knuckles across the ground. Golden veins appear like cracks in porcelain, perfect skin. Draped around a gaunt waist sits ivory fabric while chains of gold wind around the creature like the memory of a victim. An ornate halo, just as a crown too heavy to bear, hangs above a bowed head. However, by far the most intimidating feature of this massive being are the triplet pair of wings, raised high in all their glory.

               Molten gold in place of silver brings a violent intensity to that placid face. As it stares him down, primal fear rattles Xehanort’s compromised heart—he just knows that this beast exists to extinguish sins.

               “The darkness must perish!” That is no longer Eraqus’s voice. “THE DARKNESS MUST DIE!”

               The demon is fast, nearly bludgeoning Xehanort in the head. Keyblade raised, he braces to defend himself, but is sorely prepared for the sheer power behind that deceitful physique. The collision with a tombstone takes his breath away but another flying fist leaves him no chance to recoup. Somehow, Xehanort manages to skirt around the creature, finding his opening to strike with all he has. It doesn’t even stumble.

               An otherworldly cry splits the air as it turns to tower over him. With no other recourse, Xehanort bolts. Heavy, thrumming steps of pursuit flood his brain with terror, causing him to flee deeper into the city. In his way, people scream and scatter but still the crashing grows ever closer until he’s certain it’s right behind him.

               All goes quiet, giving cause to peer back. Racing boots slow to a stop. It’s gone.

               Then the shadow descends on him. His body seizes in fear and the monster’s full weight bears down on him. Caught in the angel’s clutches, Xehanort endures a thrashing worse than even the darkness that started this mess.

               One final swing sends the victim flying. Wooden planks of the dock crack, eager to pass Xehanort to the sea before they crumple under the force. Water hits like concrete, bouncing the man far from the shore before it swallows him up.

               Cool ocean water welcomes Xehanort into the dark, his resolve shaken. If that’s light’s power, taking to the dark really is the only option for the weak. Training never could’ve prepared him and even if it had, this was Eraqus. Putting down Baldr was hard enough, but Xehanort could have every chance and still be unsure he’d make that choice against his best friend.

               The light above wavers. A shadow reaches through his entombment to take hold of him. When the water breaks, clean air fills his lungs once again. Concentrated magic beneath his feet gains Xehanort purchase on the water’s surface and, when he’s able to hold his own weight, the grip relents.

               A man stands at his side—a stranger wearing a familiar black coat. Though that face remains unseen, there’s an air of expectancy about him.

               On ivory wings, the Sin Eater arrives. To his surprise, trails of light trace the demon’s face, dripping from those golden eyes. Though he may look different—though he may stand against Xehanort—this is still his best friend.

               Xehanort looks back to his savior. In solemn agreement, he nods.

               Another screech fills the air and the clash begins again. This time, Xehanort has the composure to remain calm. And the stranger—he’s strong. His fighting covers Xehanort’s every weakness and together they chip away at the angel.

               Narrowly missing Xehanort, another blow leaves him on the back foot. He braces for the follow up only for the attack to make contact with a barrier instead. Seething, the creature turns, knocking the surprised stranger back. Then it goes for the kill.

               Xehanort surges forward, his keyblade hooking the monster’s foot. It takes all his might, but he topples his foe. He offers a helping hand to his ally but it goes untaken. To his dismay, the stranger rushes past, intent on putting down the vulnerable creature.

               Xehanort reaches out. “Wait!”

               Without warning, light bursts from the beast. The ensuing explosion throws back the attackers and brings a new weight of power to the behemoth that, until then, had only used physical force.

               “How could you choose the darkness?” It speaks to Xehanort. Even as wings spread high in defiance, its head hangs low. “After all it did to us?”

               Xehanort’s shoulders slump. “I’m not choosing sides.”

               “LIAR! YOU LEFT ME!” A knurled fist meets the water’s surface. “I tried so hard to show you the right way, but I lost you too! I LOST EVERYTHING!”

               For Eraqus, continuing to be a keyblade wielder was meant to ease his own suffering. He sought light’s strength to protect the things he cared about, but in the end, it all slipped right through his fingers. And though Xehanort’s own heart bore witness to that truth, he chose to follow the fool’s lead and pretend all was fine.

               Xehanort is barely of the right mind to raise his weapon and stop that palm from taking his skull. Beneath his feet, the magic starts to give, but he holds his ground. Then those fingers curl around his weapon, ripping it free and leaving the defenseless wielder to be snatched into the air.

               “I’m sick of being a victim! I’m sick of losing people I care about!” Another shining tear drips from his face. “I’m sick of it!”

               There’s something wrong with Eraqus.

               And it’s gone on long enough.

               “I know! And I’m going to fix it!”

               The angel hesitates. Eyes slightly darker—slightly more Eraqus—peer up at him, filled with despair and conflict. It floods Xehanort with guilt that he didn’t act sooner.

               “No matter what it takes. I promise.”

               Acceptance sits weary on that face and the crushing grip loosens as it brings Xehanort lower.

               A black shadow flashes beside him, driving a hand right into the Sin Eater’s chest.

               “NO!”

               Blinding light pours across the fighters as the sound of pain shakes the air. Xehanort falls to the water’s surface as the demon writhes in agony. Before Xehanort can do anything, the stranger bars his path. He prepares for another fight, but first notices the change. Feathers float away on the ocean breeze. As sheer size begins to wither, color eeks across ivory skin. When the angel finally collapses, what’s left behind is wholly Eraqus.

               There’s no holding Xehanort back a second time as he pushes past to save his friend from the water. Like ink, the black bleeds through those wavy locks. The last of the liquid light oozes from the gash in his chest, giving way to the deep ruby it should be.

               Though Eraqus appears to have returned, there’s something different about him. It’s nearly undetectable, but it’s there: the darkness tainting his heart. Silver eyes slip back to the stranger. Without him, perhaps the last of his family would’ve been lost.

               “Thank you.”

               The figure shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets, and strolls away.

               “Consider it a courtesy.”

               Memories of an old friend snare Xehanort’s heart. But that’s not possible. He must’ve imagined it.

               Pushing those thoughts aside, Xehanort lifts the unconscious man into his arms and hurries back to the city.

               Not a soul ever learned what happened to the beast that ran rampant through the city or where it came from. So Scala ad Caelum continued on with life, being a place where keyblade warriors learned the ways of light.

               Eraqus, too, remained the same, blindly devoted to the light. His foolish façade managed to survive the ordeal as well simply due to the coma that left him unaware of the terrible ordeal. Xehanort would keep it that way, if only to spare them both the burden of Eraqus’s grief.

               The one thing that did change, however, was the answer to Xehanort’s question.

               There’s something wrong with the world. The light held too much power. It warped the view of those it led and caused the darkness to lash out in fear. Balance was needed for a perfect world where peace was meaningful.

               And it was Xehanort’s purpose to fix it.

~~~~~

Nova’s Kingdom Hearts Masterlist

[theplottdump]

Continuing the march to the ranch, 008 decided it was now her turn to interrupt the silence. The kind of silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It simply was.

Kate: So what is working for Bublé like? He seems kindaaa- Diego: Overly enthusiastic? Kate: Useless.

Diego: He's not too bad. He's tryin' at least. And he's on site more often than the other owner. Kate: Other owner? Diego: Yeah- the place is a joint venture. Old Owners sold it cheap to a second cousin or somethin and he got roped into the whole mess of managin' it all.

Kate: They are actually going to hire a real chef one day right? Diego: Why? Personally, I think nothin' says Winterfest like eggs done up twelve different ways. Kate: You're not funny. Diego: I think I'm plenty funny. And charming. Kate: Modest too. Diego: I'm glad we agree.

Diego: 𝗛𝗲'𝘀 𝗮 𝘄𝗲𝗶𝗿𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝘂𝘆. After the place sold I was real surprised they let me keep Chavo around- seein' as he's a mouth to feed as any, and there ain't much real ranchin' to do these days.

Not that I'm complainin'. He's a good dog.

Diego: But here's the thing- I don't even think the guy likes dogs all that much, or even horses for the matter. He spooks like a squirrel whenever Chavo gets the jump on him. Kate: 𝗢𝗱𝗱. Diego: Real Odd.

Diego: Still- It'll be nice to see the old place alive and kickin' again once this all gets properly started up.

She's been sittin' quiet and empty for too long. It just ain't right.

Diego: We used to have these big grand cookouts here when I was younger.

Neighborin' townsfolk would come round with some instruments for music, and there'd be good food, bad dancin' and loud singin' all night- til either yer feet gave out or yer stomach did from all the twirlin'.

Kate: I bet you were a popular dance partner. Diego: Would have been rude to say no to a pretty girl. And even ruder to leave one sittin' on the sidelines all on their lonesome. Kate: How noble. Diego: S'Just good manners.

Kate: It sounds like fun. Diego: It was- Not much use for the old Gazebo nowadays, but she's pretty enough to look at so I guess they decided she was worth keeping around for now.

Kate: If all this hurts you so much- why do you stay? Why not just pick up and leave?

Diego: And where would I go?

Diego: My whole life is just this place. Every horse in that stable is my responsibility now. That's not just somethin' I can drop so easy. This ranch, it's a part of me- no matter how much glitter they manage to pile on it.

Diego: I'm afraid I'm stuck.

Kate: My parents don't talk to each other. Diego: What?

Kate: They really should have been divorced a long time ago- all they ever did was fight.

I think they refused half out of spite, half out of whatever superiority complex it gave them being the only married couple still together in their posh friend group.

Diego: And you? Kate: They doted on me. Competitively. It was stressful. Everything had to be perfect. At least on the outside. But most of the time? I just wanted to scream.

When I left Brindleton for Del Sol I don't know which of us was the most relieved.

Diego: I'm real sorry to hear that.

Kate: Don't be. Wasn't your fault. And my therapist told me it wasn't mine either so there's no point in crying about it.

Plus the Valley is pretty nice- weather's good at least. Less constant rain. But sometimes I do miss the snow.

Diego: C'mon, follow me- I wanna show you somethin'. Kate: What? What are you up to now? Diego: 𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝗲- 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗱.

[the-final-sif]

It’s the holidays, and having learned more about them from his friend c!Sapnap, c!Dream decides that he would like to get his guardian, XD, a gift.

Sapnap got both his dads gifts while he and Dream were out on an adventure. The two of them had ventured down into the caves until they managed to find a strange old city underground. 

Sapnap had been spooked by the black, blue and glowing substance that grew over every surface, slowly consuming the city, but Dream knew exactly what it was! It was sculk, and it was harmless as long as you kept quiet. There was a warden that would show up if you got really loud and annoyed the sculk, but as long as you were very polite it wasn’t a big deal. 

Despite this, Sapnap had been a scaredy cat so Dream had gone in instead, and after asking the moss to make sure it wasn’t using any of the old stuff, he’d found some cool discs and neat shards that looked like the night sky. Both had been very interesting and he’d given most of it to Sapnap, keeping only a few of the night shards for himself. 

Bad apparently loved music and Skeppy ate minerals so he should love the shards. Sapnap was sure he’d never had anything like it.

Dream had been quite happy to help his friend with his gifts this year, but it had got him thinking.

XD did so much for Dream, he’d been taking care of him for years, built his mask to keep Dream safe, and taught him how to fight. Taught him how to explore. 

They’d been ramping up training lately. XD had been spending more time with him. Dream was almost 13 now, he was getting taller and broader. He was feeling more and more like he was getting ready for… whatever it was XD was preparing him for. 

There was a tension growing, and XD seemed… off. Nervous? Tired? Whatever it was, it wasn't happy.

Since his guarden was stressed, Dream really wanted to get him a gift. Sapnap would be spending most of the holidays with his dads on a trip to some kingdom (they had invited Dream along, but Dream had his training and also being surrounded by people constantly seemed like way too much), so Dream had plenty of free time to figure something out. 

Only that left him with a seemingly impossible question. What do you get for someone who seemed to be able to get anything? 

XD’s magic let him summon just about anything, so anything that Dream could get him just seemed… empty. 

The question had been bothering him for nearly two weeks now, through training and-

“Hello, little one.”

Dream quickly hopped out of his bed, grinning brightly at his guardian. He hadn’t been expecting XD to show up again so soon, but here he was! It’d only been a day or so since they last spoke.

“Hi, XD! Are we training again today? I’m a bit sore from yesterday but I can still fight, I really want to fix my sword swing. I mean, axes are better, but I know my sword is still too high…” Dream trailed off, the expression on XD’s mask had changed from its usual smile to something a bit more… concerned? 

“Not today, little one. Today, you need to go somewhere.” 

That got Dream excited, he snagged his adventure bag, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. It’d been awhile since they went on an adventure together. 

“Where are we going? Should I bring anything in particular? How long will we be gone?”

XD didn’t seem quite as excited, but his mask still shifted back to a smile.

“Unfortunately, I can’t go with you this time. This is something you need to do alone. Don’t worry, it won’t be dangerous. Or not really dangerous. Not like things will be in the future. I can’t tell you how long it will take.”

Dream’s excitement fell a bit, traveling alone wasn't as fun, but it would be a good chance to find a gift for XD. Maybe inspiration would hit while he was traveling?

“Okay, so where am I going then? How will I get there?” 

XD’s mask shifted to something more contemplative. 

“I can’t tell you. It’s not… it’s not quite a place that you find. It’s a place that finds you. It’s almost time for it to find you. Go looking and follow your instincts. You should… if I’ve done everything right, you should get there.”

As XD spoke, he did something he rarely did. He reached out and adjusted Dream’s mask. Straightening it just a little. 

In the movement, Dream felt something shift. Not a lot. Not much at all. But just a little. Just enough that he felt a bit odd. A bit taller maybe? 

It was weird, Dream tried to shake the feeling off and focus on his task. The instructions didn’t quite make sense, but he trusted XD. If XD said the place would find him, then that must be what would happen. 

“Okay! I’ll… try to find it I guess. How will I know when I’m there?”

As he asked, he moved to climb down from his tree house, only for XD to scoop him up instead, teleporting both of them down to the base of the tree. 

XD cradled him for just a moment, squeezing him in a hug before carefully putting him down. 

“When you find it, you’ll know. Be safe little one.”

“I will.” Dream promised, and then XD was gone. And Dream was on his own.

Now that he was alone, he could feel a charge to the air. There was something out in the woods. He needed to find it. And maybe he’d find a gift for XD on his way.

[legendary-69420]

Chapter 12: Holiday Together

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 2)

Mark had always spent his holidays alone, a quiet affair in the grandeur of the Spencer mansion. Alessandro and Isabella were often busy with business ventures or traveling, leaving Mark to his own devices. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to the solitude, spending his Christmases by the fireplace, sipping wine with the distant sounds of holiday music echoing through the halls.

This year seemed no different. He had settled into the same old routine, ready to let the holiday slip by unnoticed once again. But then, a text changed everything.

Charles: Spending Christmas alone? Nah, not happening. You’re coming to Monaco. No excuses.

At first, Mark was hesitant. Holidays weren’t his thing, especially not with someone as… unpredictable as Charles. But something inside him nudged him to say yes. Maybe it was the thought of not being alone this year, or perhaps the growing connection between them, which had only intensified since their time spent at the hospital and back at the track.

And so, Mark packed his bags and found himself on a flight to Monaco, wondering what the next few days would hold.

The air in Monaco was crisp, the city adorned with Christmas lights that reflected off the shimmering waters of the Mediterranean. Mark arrived at Charles’ family home, where warmth greeted him, both in temperature and in spirit.

Charles was there, of course, ready with a mischievous smile. “Thought I’d let you be all broody and alone for Christmas? Not happening.”

Mark couldn’t help but smile. “I appreciate it. Feels weird, though. I don’t really… do holidays.”

“Well, you’re about to learn,” Charles replied with a wink, pulling him inside where the Leclerc family had already gathered.

Christmas was filled with laughter, warmth, and something Mark hadn’t expected: a sense of belonging. The Leclerc family welcomed him as if he had always been there, and for the first time in a long time, Mark felt the true joy of the holidays. There was no loneliness, no cold silence in a giant mansion. There was love, chaos, and the feeling that he wasn’t just an outsider anymore.

As the night drew on, the closeness between him and Charles grew stronger. They found themselves alone by the fire, glasses of hot cocoa in hand, basking in the soft glow of the Christmas lights.

Charles glanced at him, his smile softer now, more intimate. “I’m glad you came.”

Mark’s heart did a little flip. “Me too.”

There was a charged silence between them, one that had been building for months now. Charles leaned in, and Mark could feel the shift. It wasn’t just friendship anymore. It was something deeper, something that neither of them could deny.

Before things could go further, though, a familiar ding from Mark’s phone pulled them apart. Both laughed at the sudden interruption, and Mark glanced at his phone. He had forgotten for a moment that social media existed, but now his notifications were flooded.

Instagram Post Mark Spencer @Markspencer: Christmas in Monaco… Not so bad after all. [Image: Mark and Charles by the fireplace, both smiling, Charles leaning closer, with Christmas decorations in the background.]

Comments Section:

@ferrariilover24: “Wait, why are they always together now?! Rivals who?”

@charlesdefender: “We all see what’s happening here, right? Look at the way they’re smiling at each other 👀🔥”

@racerfan10: “Mark looks so happy, Charles is doing wonders!”

@f1_updates: “Spending holidays together?! This is getting interesting…”

@yuki_tsunoda: “When’s the invite to my holiday, Mark?”

@daniel_ricciardo: “Oh, a cozy Christmas? Why wasn’t I invited?”

@carlos_sainz: “Should I be worried about my replacement?”

Mark couldn’t help but chuckle. “They’re onto us.”

Charles leaned over, looking at the screen and shaking his head. “Let them speculate. They always do.”

The next morning, they bundled up in warm jackets and scarves for a snowy adventure in the mountains. The cold air was refreshing, and the world around them looked like a winter wonderland, with snowflakes dancing down from the sky. Mark felt like a kid again, his laughter ringing out as they made snowmen and engaged in friendly snowball fights.

Twitter Post

@f1_fanatic: Mark Spencer and Charles Leclerc spotted enjoying a winter wonderland together. Are they ever apart?!

[Image: Mark and Charles in snow gear, laughing and playfully throwing snowballs.]

Comments Section:

@landoisgreat: “Okay, but Charles looks way happier. Mark, control yourself.”

@f1_insider: “How is Mark this charming? Dude went through a crash and looks like that?!”

@max_verstappen: “Can I join next time, guys?”

@charlesleclerc_world: “This isn’t just a rivalry anymore… something’s happening here.”

Later that day, after a thrilling afternoon of skiing, they returned to the warmth of the Leclerc home, red-cheeked and exhilarated. As they settled in front of the fire again, Charles turned to Mark, his expression serious now. “You’re different, you know that?”

Mark tilted his head, curious. “Different how?”

“I don’t know… just… different. It’s not just about racing anymore. You’ve become… important,” Charles said softly, his voice barely louder than the crackling fire.

Mark looked over at him, his heart skipping a beat. “You’re important to me too, Charles. More than you know.”

Charles smiled, a flicker of something more than friendship in his eyes. “Good. Because I don’t think I can imagine this without you anymore.”

Mark’s breath caught in his throat, and before he could respond, Charles stood up, offering him a hand. “Come on. We’ve got a whole evening ahead of us.”

Mark took his hand, the warmth spreading through his chest. As they walked back toward the cozy living room, he couldn’t help but feel like something had changed. This wasn’t just a holiday. It was the beginning of something neither of them could deny.

Instagram Post

Charles Leclerc @charles_leclerc: Best holiday yet with @MarkSpencer 💓 [Image: Charles and Mark by the fire, both smiling, Christmas decorations around them.]

Comments Section:

@charles_loverforever: “Is it me or does Charles look way happier lately?”

@mark_fansunite: “Mark and Charles… seriously, what’s going on? I’m obsessed.”

@carlos_sainz: “Okay, seriously, when’s the invite to the next holiday?”

@maxandlando: “They’re making too much sense together. F1, make them teammates again.”

The holiday had come to an end, but the bond between them had only grown stronger. Mark had spent years alone during the holidays, but this time, things were different. He wasn’t just part of the Red Bull team. He was part of something far more personal—something that made him feel like he belonged.

And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to spend his holidays alone ever again.

---

[PS : I have started drafting VOLUME 3 and tbh it well i have made the chapter list and dropped like a million of other ideas ] [i wanted to post this chapter on christmas but yk it would be too late] {Also the next volume will take time as i made some pretty big plans for it and i have to manage both this and my studies😭]

[torialefay]

Hello! I just found your blog and I'm obsessed okay? I love the combo of Kpop and Astrology and you do such a good job at it I HAD to follow instantly 🤍 I was wondering if I could have a natal chart compatibility reading? You can write which member is best suited to me (And maybe for fun briefly mention who I should stay tf away from haha 😂) My pronouns are She/Her! Thank you so much 💋

hi baby! tysm for being patient with me <3 here you gooooo!

so for most compatible, i was really struggling to choose between felix and chan. han wasn't a bad option either. but if i had to pick just ONE, i'm sticking with felix for now. but just know any of the 3 i think would be perfectly suitable. if you want me to elaborate on the other 2 a little just lmk <3

and fun fact: your sun, mercury, venus, and mars are all the same as changbin (which COULD also lead to a good relationship, but with your placements in particular i think it'd lead to more bestie vibes than anything... bc if one of yall is delusional, then so is the other one and there's no one there to pull you out of the trenches lol.)

your ascendant in taurus:

soooo i may be partial, but i really think there is such a great aura that comes with having ascendant in taurus. taurus is such a beautiful, grounding sign that also has that element of divine femininity to it from its venus ruler. it's likely that you come across as having a loving, beautiful personality & also that you have your shit together lol. as far as looks, if you are playing into your rising (which i would encourage), i'd venture to guess that you'd look & feel best in beutiful, elevated styles. this could be anywhere from super girly pink or femme fatale, but embracing that feminine energy is gonna be key. if you hone in on that, it definitely pushes you forward in a captivating way!

for skz, i think it'd be hard for any of them to be uninterested tbh. felix is a pretty ethereal guy. he just naturally draws beauty toward him. i think he'd be really intrigued by you initially and that you'd potentially really catch his eye. especially with that lovey nature taurus risings can have- making you feel super special and seen... lixie would dig it im sure.

your sun in leo:

you are definitely an encourager & able to see what people's strong suits are. felix can get a bit unsure of himself at times and i think you'd be really good at helping him work through that. his "serving" virgo energy makes me think that he'd really really want to give you anything you wanted & he'd probably like it if you were more so in the spotlight than him.

your moon in aries:

same as felix! i love a moon matchup & think it's absolutely one of the most crucial points for predicting long term compatibility. with this placement, you probably have a deep, burning desire to find passion throughout life. whether that's in a person, in art and music, in your work or service to others, in connection with your spirit, etc etc. basically, you are hungry to have purpose and fulfill it. that's not a quality that just anyone can handle. but felix does so perfectly bc he feels the exact same. you'd definitely make the most of life together :)

your mercury in cancer:

oh so you feeeeel feel? you're likely also somewhat expressive of these emotions (whether that's through verbal, through art, through mannerisms, etc). in that case, you're super in luck bc so is lixie. you both deeply understand emotions and the beauty within them. felix's libra here is a great sign to help with re-assurance for you, should you ever need it. it'd also allow for some super heart-felt convos that make your connection deeper than what others have.

your venus in virgo:

your venus tells me you're usually more attracted to super hard-working and driven individuals. people who may come across as a more "dominant" person, while still being super charming and kind. this was a part of the reason why i was having a tough time not picking chan (bc he is a virgo venus' dream ofc), BUT i think once we get past the surface, lix would be the better choice! felix can actually have a more dominant personality at times, which usually isn't seen on camera due to his dynamic within the group itself. but he definitely know how to get shit done. his venus is in libra, which means he's gonna please the shit out of you. would he have the upper hand in the bedroom? for sure. but is he not gonna do a damn thing unless you say you want it? absolutely. you could have that man on a leash making him whatever tf you want lol (sorry lixie)

your mars in scorp:

y'all are definitely gonna have some fun times & actually probably both be borderline obsessed with each other at times. i think fights would get really messy between you two and def would involve some psychological warfare. i think it'd actually take a while to work through fights too. but the other placements make up for it.

who to stay away from?

simplest answer: lee know. now i'm not saying y'all would hate each other for REAL, but i could definitely see a "love to hate" relationship here... and y'all getting on each other's nerves BAD 😂

[theflyingfeeling]

Twentieth Day of Gift-Giving: Twenty Tells

Prompt: humming

Continuing the main story after a couple of standalones 💕 The previous part was posted on Day 17, go read it!

~

There were tiny marshmallows in Olli’s hot chocolate. He didn’t even know they had marshmallows, so he was clueless about where they had appeared. Perhaps it was just another one of Aleksi’s magic tricks, like his music or the way he could make Olli come in a matter of minutes (sometimes seconds). 

“Would you like to give cooking another try today? I’m getting kinda bored with takeout,” he asked as he watched the tiny sugar clouds float on the surface of his drink.

“Sure!” Aleksi said from where he was standing by the kitchen counter, still preparing his own mug of hot cocoa. Olli heard the rustling of plastic and saw Aleksi looking over his shoulder with a coy smile before he joined Olli at the kitchen table, tiny marshmallows decorating his own drink as well.

Magic, or just some good-spirited mischief, it was endearing all the same.

~*~

For the first time since Aleksi’s arrival, the two of them actually went grocery shopping together. This had been enabled by Tommi’s spouse calling them to ask if Rilla was up for a play-date with their schnauzer, and so Rilla had company while the two of them ventured to the supermarket. As a favour in return, Olli and Aleksi would come home with ingredients for a salmon dinner for four (as well as some dog treats, just to keep their furry children satisfied). 

Olli had never known what kind of joy simple things such as picking out the perfect lemon together or squabbling whether their dessert should be berries and ice cream (Olli’s suggestion) or tiny chocolate cakes (Aleksi’s idea) would bring. He loved walking around the store at a leisurely pace with Aleksi by his side and was only a little sad they couldn’t do so hand-in-hand, at least not quite yet.

If Olli stopped to think about it, these little moments were everything to him. He tried not to contemplate it too much, however, because if he did, he’d inevitably had to remind himself he was supposed to give it all up in just a couple of days when Aleksi would go back to his own home. He couldn’t let himself get too used to it all; he was already terrified of the emptiness in his house when Aleksi and Rilla would no longer be there and of the hollow feeling in his heart on the first morning when he’d wake up to the spot next to him vacant.

“Is this all or do we need something more?” Aleksi asked him as they approached the check register.

Actually, Olli said in his head as he stared into Aleksi’s eyes, if you could find a way for us to do this every day, that would be great. I don’t care if it’s some kinda magic juice or a surprise in a cereal box, as long as I won’t have to let you go once Sunday's upon us. 

“Maybe some more treats? Just for us,” he suggested. He knew even Aleksi with all his magic could not fulfil his wish, so the next best thing would have to do.

~*~

“Are you sure you won’t need any help?” Tommi asked from the kitchen doorframe, overt concern on his face about the fate of the salmon Aleksi was just in the middle of seasoning. 

“Nope! Just sit back and relax, we’ll join you in a minute once we get this bad boy ready for the oven,” Olli smiled, for once confident in his cooking – not least thanks to Aleksi doing most of it.

Tommi didn’t seem any more convinced but did as he was told nevertheless and returned to the living room, Rilla’s pink ball in his hand. Once Tommi was out of sight, Olli turned to give Aleksi a peck on the cheek, the first of many. 

“Hey! I’m trying to concentrate,” Aleksi smiled at him. “I can’t be chopping dill while you’re…doing that.”

“Oh, just pretend I’m not here.” Olli ignored Aleksi’s giggly protests and continued peppering Aleksi’s cheek and neck with kisses. After about fifty more, Olli congratulated himself with a job well done, noticing a faint blush on Aleksi’s cheeks, and buried his head in the crook of Aleksi’s neck while he kept on preparing the salmon. 

Olli wasn’t sure which happened first – him closing his eyes or Aleksi starting to hum quietly – but soon he was relaxing against Aleksi’s shoulder while a soft, simple tune filled this little bubble of happiness they had built around themselves. Not caring if it would make Aleksi’s cooking more challenging, Olli sneaked his arms around the man’s waist, wanting to be as close to him as physically possible. 

He pressed his nose against Aleksi’s shoulder and inhaled deeply. Maybe it would help him create a scent memory in his head for him to return to once he could no longer hold Aleksi like this, half a country between them.

“Right, I’m gonna put this in the oven now.” Olli was reluctant to let go of him, but the small kiss that landed on Olli’s forehead made up for the loss.

“Hmmmmhhh,” Aleksi purred and let himself be gently pushed against the kitchen counter as Olli cuddled up to him again. “Maybe we should go back to the living room. To see what pranks Rilla has pulled to entertain her audience.”

“Maybe,” said Olli, suddenly feeling sleepy and all too cosy in Aleksi’s embrace. “Or maybe we could stay here like this for just a little longer?”

“That sounds pretty good too,” Aleksi agreed. 

Olli rested his cheek on Aleksi’s shoulder and let the vibrations of Aleksi’s humming banish all the thoughts of their time together coming to its inevitable end soon. Right now, he was too happy and too in love to worry his head about it too much.

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE: SEPTEMBER 1989

Transcript Below!!!

WE DONT CHEAT

“The Rockers Deny Illegal Double-Teaming”

By Ed Ricciuti

|| Jesse Ventura is convinced the Rockers illegally double-team. But they deny his allegations, stating they’re only in the ring for the permitted five-second time limit.||

WWF color commentator Jesse “The Body” Ventura said it for all to hear. The Rockers illegally double-team. That’s what Venture claimed repeatedly over WWF television.

WWF Magazine decided to look into Ventura’s accusation about Rockers Shawn Michaels and Marty Jannetty. After all, these two dashing young men have gained the admiration and affection of millions of fans. Michaels and Jannetty are known for their dazzling technical expertise, mind-boggling aerial dog fights and their own special brand of courage. With all this going for them, do they need to cheat? 

“We don’t cheat,” exclaims Jannetty. “We don’t have to cheat to win. Besides, that’s not our way. We’re not about to lower ourselves or set a bad example for our fans. Sure, there are instances when we both have to get into the ring even though only one of us should be there. But the only time that happens is when opponents break the rules and we have to brawl to protect one another and defend ourselves from serious injury. We don’t do that unless we’re pushed and have no choice. And you can’t blame us under those circumstances. We don’t start it.”

“I won’t call Jesse Ventura a liar,” adds Michaels. “But I will say that as far as what he says about us illegally double-teaming is concerned, he’d better get himself a pair of glasses. Then maybe he could see the truth. Speaking of the truth, Jesse Ventura ought to really tell it like it is when he gets to the Rougeaus (I won’t ever call them ‘Fabulous’). If he wants to complain about cheating, he should pay attention to what that pair of con men, those Ragus, do each and every time they enter the ring. And Ventura should watch their manager, Jimmy Hart, too.”

It’s obvious that the Rockers are riled up over Ventura’s comments. Especially since they have been the victims of incredible cheap shots by the Rougeaus and Hart. Even so, to be fair, WWF Magazine went to Jacques and Raymond Rougeau and the Mouth to get their side of the story. 

“Jesse Ventura is the best wrestling commentator around,” says Raymond. “Unlike some other commentators on WWF television whom I could name, Jesse has been in the ring. He’s a veteran. He’s experienced. He knows what’s going on. He doesn’t miss a trick.  And he calls things right, especially about the Rockers. Watch them. They’re in the ring illegally together more than any other tag team in the WWF. Don’t let them fool you. They’re the worst kind of cheaters. My brother and I know that firsthand. Right, Jacques?”

||The Rockers execute double powerslams on their foes. Within the allotted time frame that the two partners can stay in the ring, they take full–but legal–advantage of it, striking with flying fists and crossbody blocks. The Rougeaus, conversely, break the rules by using Jimmy Hart’s Megaphone.||

“Absolutely, Raymond,” answers Jacques. “We’ve been up against some real slime buckets, but never anybody as bad as the Rockers. They don’t pay any attention to the rules. They’re not like us. We like to wrestle fair and square. We’ve got our reputations to think of. And all our fans out there in good old America.” 

Jimmy Hart, as usual, puts in his two cents.

“Marty Jannetty and Shawn Michaels do to the rulebook what they do to good music when they try to sing. They ruin it, baby. They ought to be banned from the ring. Or at least suspended. And if the WWF won’t put them out of wrestling, then I’ve got two men who will. Right here. Jacques and Raymond.”

Those are hard-hitting charges. But, we must remember that the Fabulous Rougeaus and their skinny, yappy manager have a very big ax to grind against the Rockers. Hart and the Rougeaus will try to smear Jannetty and Michaels any time the chance arises. And, as most everyone knows, the Rougeaus and Hart are by no means saints. In fact, some observers–if not Ventura–believe they are the most treacherous, shifty tag teams around. 

||Since the Fabulous Rougeaus viciously attacked the Rockers on WWF Wrestling Challenge, Marty Jannetty and Shawn Michaels have been warning the Brothers, managed by Jimmy “Mouth of the South'' Hart. After the brutal beating, the Rockers have used very effective double-team ploys to shred apart the opposition, with such maneuvers as double arm wringers and flying double elbows.||

Even so, WWF Magazine decided to dig deeper to see if there is any merit in the accusations against the Rockers. We went to some independent observers and analyzed the Rockers’ style. Here’s what we found:

To begin with, the rules say that when a man tags out, he has five seconds to leave the ring. That seems like only an instant, but the Rockers are so fast that they can unleash a barrage of holds and moves in a flash. Those perfectly legal five seconds give the Rockers time to do a lot of damage to their opponents–all without violating the rules.

No team in the WWF is better at coordinating a dual attack than the Rockers. Double dropkicks. Double clotheslines. Double sidekicks. Double arm wringers. Name it, they can do it as one. 

Moreover, Jannetty and Michaels have the coordination and blazing quickness to move around the ring like greased lighting. And that goes for getting up off the ropes, too. Jetting around the ring, they use every part of it to their best advantage.

So, what’s this got to do with the charge of illegal double-teaming? Everything. The Rockers dart about at such scorching speed and do so many different things in those legal five seconds that it just appears they are both within the ropes for a longer-than-permitted length of time. If you could watch them in slow motion, you would see that they unload rapid-fire on their opponents, and then, in the nick of legal time, the Rocker who has tagged out goes outside the ropes and grabs the tag rope. That’s the way it is. As far as the charge against Jannetty and Michaels of illegal double-teaming is concerned, it’s a matter of “Case dismissed.” As they claim, they don’t cheat.

[ryker-writes]

Camp Vargas: The Art Of Survival

Warning: Spoilers for camp Vargas 2 event

Being in the pop music club meant Jaxon was dragged along with the others to camp Vargas. Which meant he would have to work together with Kalim, Lilia, and Cater. He didn't particularly mind having to do physical training, but spending three days with those three...yeah that may be a struggle.

Still, he didn't have much of a choice. The pop music club was the only one he felt he would actually enjoy. He wouldn't do bad in a sports club, but he much preferred the pop music club.

Now, he's here, watching Kalim and the others struggle to put a tent together.

"Where's the sleeve?"

"Kalim, we have to lay out the ground sheets first. Otherwise our tent will flood if it rains."

"Wait, what are ground sheets? And where are they?"

"Oof, I can't make heads or tails of all these tent terms. This is gonna take longer than I thought..."

"Do none of you seriously know how to put a tent together?"

Jade had been partnered up with the pop music club, and came over after setting up his own tent.

"I'm done over here. Would you like some help?"

"Whoa, already?! Are you some kind of camping savant?"

"The Mountain Lovers Club ventures into the mountains on a regular basis. I'm used to setting up a tent."

"Oh, great! We lucked out big time having you and Jaxon with us then. I'll gladly take some pointers if you're down. I've only ever been glamping before."

"Oh yes, I've heard of that. It's basically camping in style, correct? I hear it's pretty trendy."

"Yup, you got it. When I did it, all the tents and stuff were set up in advance. I just had to do the fun parts. I even got pre-made meals. I could just kick back and enjoy the stars."

"That's pretty much what I did. Several years ago, I asked my parents if I could go camping...So they bought a mountain for it. Our staff handled the tent and campfire, and a chef cooked my meals. It was a nice gesture, but I'd been hoping to try all that stuff myself, y'know?"

"Uh, that sounds way different from my experience. In face, I'd argue you had the glammest glamping trip of all time."

"Khee hee hee, that's sure not the kind of camping I'm used to. It sounds so delightfully peaceful."

"Can't say I've done that either."

"You've been camping Jaxon?"

"Something like that. Back at my other school, I stayed outside most nights. Didn't really have a tent, but I know how to set one up."

"Your school seriously let you sleep outside? And you slept without any cover or anything?!"

"Yeah. They didn't care much what I did, and I didn't want to be near any of the other students. So, yeah. I slept in the grass or against a tree most nights."

"What about when it rained?"

"I slept outside. Rain or not. Trees can offer a bit of cover, but other than that I just dealt with it. Didn't sleep most of the time anyway."

"Dude you must be one heavy sleeper if you can sleep through rain falling on you."

"Not really. You just get used to certain things and eventually can sleep through them. I'm a light sleeper."

"That's still pretty impressive. I can sleep through a lot, but even I don't think I can sleep through rain falling on me."

"I suppose for humans it must be strange to sleep covered with water. For a merfolk, that kind of thing is normal. It's more unusual to sleep completely dry."

"You know, we should also probably figure out tent assignments. Jade's gonna be in his own tent, so who's sharing a tent with who?"

"I call dibs on staying with Kalim."

"Sounds good to me!"

"That means it's you and me together Jaxon."

"Fine by me."

The first day's challenges were simple ones; gather fish to eat, make a campfire, and find a magestone in the mines. Jaxon ended up going with the rest of the group to catch a bunch of fish for the challenge. Thankfully, Jade was there to give them tips on how to catch the fish. Jaxon certainly isn't an expert when it comes to catching fish, so even he took Jade's advice. In the end, they caught enough fish for the entire stay, and Jade even knew a good way to cook them.

The pop music club had earned enough Vargas badges to pass for the day, and they were able to sleep. Unfortunately, they had to take shifts to keep the fairies from putting out the campfire, but they still had time for some sleep.

Sharing a tent with Lilia was...interesting. He's quite chatty before sleeping and kept trying to talk to Jaxon. He also snores quite a lot more than Jaxon was expecting, but it's not impossible to deal with. In the end, he was able to get a few hours of sleep before his turn to watch the fire.

The next morning, they were given new challenges for the day; catch a catfish, find a lantern blossom to make a potion, and find a bigger magestone. While the others in the club went to find the lantern blossom, Jaxon went with Lilia to catch the catfish.

Lilia was able to find where it was pretty quickly, and with the two working together, they managed to fish it out of the water. It was only after they got it out of the water that they were approached by a shadowy figure.

Crewel came up to the two of them and told them how it is. The last challenge of camp Vargas was a special challenge where Vargas would act as a monster to catch the students off guard. After Vargas would be caught, Crewel would be an even bigger challenge and capture some people. Lilia and Malleus were too strong for these challenges, and they had to be taken out. As for Jaxon, Crewel simply didn't want to waste energy trying to catch him and fight him. So, he proposed that they help set up challenges for the students to make things difficult.

Jaxon however, didn't want much of a part of setting up challenges. At most, he'd have no problem giving them a little anxiety, but that's no exactly what Vargas has in mind for the final challenge. It should be giving them anxiety already, and the challenge should be able to show if they can keep a level head. So, he opted for doing the extra training while Lilia and Malleus made things more challenging.

But he didn't imagine just how much the ghosts would push him. It's like never ending squats, pushups, sit ups, and weights. Jaxon isn't weak by far. He's never had a problem with PE classes or exercise at all, but this was a whole new level. Jaxon was exhausted after just a few hours with them. It must've been one of Vargas' routines.

He did notice that the ghosts eased up on him a lot when the others got caught though. He had more time to rest then, and he could relax.

It was only a day and a half of physical training before camp was over, but Jaxon was ready to go back to the school. He's more tired than usual, and he just wants to lay down and relax. Thankfully, he wouldn't be joining any sports club anytime soon, and the pop music club would carry on as usual.

[jindallaebe]

𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒕

or, when jindallae reflects on the past few months.

jindallae spent his twenty-second birthday in the kitchen; hands hard at work crafting the delectable cuisine that the restaurant's become well-known for. he's not complaining necessarily, cooking is what he loves to do, but he does wish he had slightly more free time on his hands. he wanted to meet up with mindeulle for a drink at some point, but sadly, it's been a chaotic time for both of them. min's buried in school work and racing towards deadlines, and jindallae's been picking up massive amounts of slack due to a shortage of kitchen staff; proving that he's dedicated, even after all this time.

he's been an employee for many years now, and his passionate work ethic has assisted in the once overlooked hole-in-the-wall eatery becoming a staple for traditional cuisine in the mapo district, especially among the students at hongik university. with a revived social media presence, attractive servers, and affordable prices, he's helped transform his place of work into a hotspot for people in their twenties; providing them with sustenance to fuel their late-night ventures in hongdae, or their all-nighter study sessions.

the owner's unsure how he feels about the younger crowd, but the monetary gain he's witnessed keeps his lips sealed, which jindallae prefers. if it weren't for him, they'd still be scraping by month-to-month. he's self-aware enough to know that his hard work has definitely paid off. honestly speaking, it fills him with a lot of pride; makes him feel as though he has his shit together despite what his mother tries to tell him. in his opinion, he's rather successful, and he's never even stepped foot into a single college class—which is something his mom is hellbent on him doing, even though he's told her in so many words to "kindly fuck off" time-and-time-again.

not only has he been fruitful in his professional career, but his band hasn't been too bad off either. their gigs have decreased here and there due to each member's personal schedule ramping up, but most ghosts has become a mainstay in the hongdae club scene; their grunge sound lighting up stages at least once per week to solid crowds. the fact that he's been able to balance his work as a kitchen manager, and lead an entire band, continues to add to the pride he feels in himself—his efforts not being in vain, thank god.

however, despite the highs that he's been feeling because of everything going on, a part of him still feels hollow; like he's missing something. obsessing over what that something is has been keeping him awake at night, and while he knows that pouring so much analytical thought into it is only making his insomnia worse, he can't stop thinking about what that missing piece is.

all he can come up with is that, lately, he's been feeling a bit uninspired creatively; his levels of exhaustion impeding his musical endeavors, specifically his growth as a rapper. there's not much time to come up with new material when he's constantly at the restaurant, but that's just how it is for now. it's how it's gotta be.

however, with many of his friends getting signed to various entertainment companies around the city, a part of him wonders if he should dip his toes into those waters, as well. though, he knows that pursuing that lifestyle will come with innumerable downsides; ones that he isn't sure he's ready to introduce into his life. being an idol wouldn't suit him, jindallae's aware of that, but he can't help but wonder if there could be another avenue for him at a company; one that doesn't involve being an "emotional support animal" to the delusional, hopelessly brainwashed fans who idolize him.

there's a lot on his mind, and he talks all his issues out with the moon, but her advice hasn't been the best lately. all he can hope is that he can someday get back to steeping himself in music more full-time. maybe it'll give him some sense of normalcy; some excitement.

[crotchety-old-blogger]

Too Old to Handle

Has anybody noticed in today’s Hollywood that there's barely anyone over the age of 50 that has a supporting role, let alone in a leading role? (I said barely, not never)

Where are the old wise people with grey hair and wrinkly faces pointing in some direction, and utters words of advice and makes you bowl of hot soup before you venture out? I miss that.

I don't care to see in every, single movie or TV show, some snot-nosed fourteen-year-old or seventeen-year-old "actor" pretending to lead a resistance on whatever planet; or some twenty-year-olds masquerading as teenagers thinking they know, huh-huh, everything. STOP IT! STOP! IT! If I didn't know better, I might conclude that the entertainment business has a child fetish.

And don't get me started on today's soundtracks. I never would have thought in my lifetime we went from the great Sir John Williams to the pathetic Hanz Zimmer. Let me be clear on this: Zimmer does not compose music. PERIOD! Zimmer is nothing but a glorified DJ that records and combines whale queefs and screaming voices into something that he calls "music". Then the movie producers say, "Wow! What a great soundtrack!" There are some who so "this is music evolving." Uh, no. If anything, it's the devolving of music. Also, nobody wants to hire a big name like Williams anymore—he's too expensive, but his music is quality. (Not forgetting other quality composers e.g. Danny Elfman, Alan Silvestri, and the late James Horner) For Zimmer, he puts together some random percussions and synthesizers, never composing ANY memorable themes.

And what is with all this CGI lighting? I can tell that the actors are in a different place because no amount of careless CGI lighting will ever fool me. Rather it takes me OUT of the movie, having me think "I thinking I could have done better." There is no longer art behind setting up a scene. I can tell. It looks like I'm watching a live-action film set in photoshop. What's shameful is that the producers don't care anymore, which makes sense because 90% of the audience that goes to the movies are usually stoned out of their minds; so they go back and get concessions, they finish and go back and get more concessions, they finish, so they go back and get concessions, they finish and so they go back and get more concessions. Sounds like someone's getting rich at the theater, and it ain't any of us.

If I'm not getting quality from a movie, I don't think tickets should be one flat rate. Not at all. Something from the mind of Steven Spielberg or David Lynch—$20. Something like 2 Fast 2 Furious—$5.

Now, I feel that some of you are pulling away with the last comment. But seriously, there is no real story in the Fast and Furious movies, just a bunch of festering drivers who seem to be constantly constipated, so they race to the nearest toilet. Just look at the title itself. There's going to be a bunch of kids who are going to think that's how one spells "too". Then they're going to think it's okay to drag race down an empty highway at night, and it is NOT! PEOPLE WITH A LIFE SLEEP! I don't need to hear brainless bucketheads burn rubber at all hours of the night. Forget calling the cops, they're too busy finding new things to do with their doughnuts' hole.

And the school teachers can't teach children anything because the parents are like "You should not be correcting my child, let him spell how he wants!" Teachers are not paid enough; they are constantly being treated like shit, and they also are trying to be brave despite the reality that one of the twelve-year-olds students might have brought their uncle's AK-47 to class. Well, what do you expect? No one told him that was WRONG! "No, we don't use words like 'wrong' and 'bad' and 'no'. Those are negative words, and we avoid to them in Patrick's childrearing. We tend to say 'yes' and other positive words." Seriously? I think a lot of teachers would agree with me in saying, "F**k you, Serenity! And you childrearing, bullshit nonsense!"

I don't know why, they always talk about how education is important. You've heard the TV announcer, "Education is the most important thing for a child." Yeah, it is. So why not have the city or school owners—y'know, the wealthy men you rarely see—FIX IT!

Oh, that's right. It won't matter, because their wealthy child goes to a private school with other wealthy halfwits who could do some halfwit damage in life without half trying. But they will NEVER take the blame because money always gets them out of trouble. So why would they financially help people whom they see as inferior because we're poor.

Uuuuuuh, whew. I think I may have shared too much. Whoa! I've been typing away like crazy. Well, hope you liked this. Or maybe not. I don't care. You like it, good. Don't that's okay too. Respond with a rude message—you're getting blocked.

[karapposan]

I just had to state my opinion, I'm sorry.

=================

ABOUT REVIVAL MY DREAM BEING CANCELLED IN EN SERVER

=================

First off, disclaimer: I do not represent another Proseka player or anything. I simply wanted to state my opinion about this event. And I'm fully aware that I might lose lots of followers for this.

=====

I am a Project Sekai player in both EN and JP server. I admit, I haven't played this game for a long time. I played EN during its release date, and JP during their collab with Story of Evil series.

I started playing Project Sekai not just because of the Vocaloid music, but also because of the said rich story and characters. (Although, I admit I started playing the JP server because I love Story of Evil).

Revival My Dream is one of my most waited event because I love costumes, especially Rui's. So, I was really disappointed to see it got cancelled and even the event got fully banned on EN. At least we got Showtime Ruler.

The official announcement said that the story and gacha contain inappropriate things. I believe they were pointing towards Emu and Nene's cards. Honestly, I don't think they were made by the intention for any kind of cultural appropriation :/.

But what I want to talk more was about the story. I was confused as to why they said the story was inappropriate, so I read it in the JP server.

======

Apparently, the story in question was the script that Rui made when he was small. The JP title is: 森の人と町の人. (The kanji should be right). It literally means "The Forest People and the City People".

The script was as follows:

The Forest People and City People were always fighting. City People thought the Forest People were barbaric and uncouth while Forest People thought City People were liars and bad people.

Tsukasa played the role of... let's say, a supervisor. He was called to the city to guard the forests perimeter to prevent the dwellers from entering the city. He was a high-ranking official, let's just say. Of course, at the time he also had the same mindset with the rest of the citizens; Forest People are barbaric.

During one of his ventures, he met Emu, who played a role of a girl from the forests. She was different from her people, as she thought that not all city folks are bad, since Tsukasa wasn't. After spending some time together, Emu discovered that Tsukasa actually wanted a peace talk between the two sides. After some joint effort from Tsukasa and Emu, the two sides started to going along well and even be friends with one another. As a sign of peace, Tsukasa and Emu decided to gather treasures from both sides and keep them for safety. The action was agreed by both sides and now the peace was fulfilled.

However, a certain evil prime minister was not happy about this. In fact, they intentionally spread the rumors about both sides being bad people so they could get the "black oil" in the forest. And so, they had Rui, the minister's secretary, to abolish the peace. Rui accepts. He planned to kidnap Tsukasa and take the treasures so people's trust to him will go downhill and both sides will fight again. His plans succeeded, and Tsukasa was captured.

Of course, people became angry and felt betrayed. Emu, who believes that something bad must have happened to Tsukasa, went to save him. She went to the mansion, but found out that the tree's branch she used to climb in order to see him was cut down. Desperate to call for help, Tsukasa opened the window to let Emu in, and Emu gathered her courage to leap into the mansion. With Tsukasa rescued and the treasures returned to their places, Rui's plans failed and he was banished. After that, both Forest People and City People reclaimed the peace and now they live side-by-side happily.

================

Now for my opinion.

To be honest, I don't see how this story is a controversy. In fact, it promotes peace and harmony between two different conflicting sides. Even the prejudice they had before were just baseless rumors spread by evil people.

If people cancelled this just because of the beginning of the story, then they are very short-sighted. They don't see the moral behind the story, only seeing things from the surface. Please guys, just why :( .

As a translator and someone who understands Japanese, I know how difficult it is to translate from one language to another, however, for me, it is also our job to try to make the translations fit for the market? Cancelling the whole event just from a fragment is just a bad move and unprofessional for me. Sega's move was just.... Nope.

For the said gacha cards, maybe you can redraw? I mean, Sega, you even said that there will be different costumes for the 3DMV for Showtime Ruler.

========

Of course, ranting will not change anything, now that they already decided to just erase the event.

=====

To be more savage:

Don't expect people from all over the world to follow one standard of culture.

======

That's all from me. Sorry for the long, boring, and rant post.

Thank you!

Karapposan.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much 

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

-

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?” 

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.  

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ��

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

-

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?”  Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

-

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

-

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

-

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

-

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

-

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.  

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of  how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,”  you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

-

[dameronology]

you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

--

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

Fake dating thing

Prompts : fake lovers to real lovers

“I’m easy. Buy me a nice ring and I’ll lie to your parents.”

“Are you doubting my acting skills?”

Summary || Chris family can't stop bugging him on when he's going to get a GF or not so he use you to shut them up

Genre || fluff

Warnings || fake dating

Pairing || Chris Evans x reader

A/n || please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission!

Comment and reblogs welcome

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

Chris paced back in forth in his living room as he thought. Thought about how he was going to do this. See his family wouldn't stop asking him when he was going to get into a relationship. It was so often to the point where it was getting extremely annoying to him.

He was really concerning having a fake relationship, but he had no idea who he was going to do it with. Everyone that crossed his mind was in a relationship.

He sighed to himself and walked over to the kitchen, he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer out of it. It then hit him who he should do it with.

You!

You were single, lived in Boston and his family didn't know you (except Scott). He walked over to the counter and sat his beer down as he grabbed his phone. He dialed your number waited a few seconds before you picked up.

"um hi Chris."

He said hi back and began to request his plan. "So I know this is weird and probably dumb, but y/n I need your help." On the other side you scrunched your eyebrows, "okay, what do you need?"

Chris sucked in his breath. "Y/n, I'm going to need you to be my fake Girlfriend."

Your eyes widened, "your fake Girlfriend?"

"yeah, my family won't stop asking me when I'm going to get one so I need you to be my fake one to shut them up." Chris finished and there was a silence between you two.

Chris soon started to Panic. "You don't have to I'm just-" "Chris, it's fine, I'll do it. When do you need me?"

Chris breath a sigh of relief. "Um this weekend. Can you do that?"

“I’m easy. Buy me a nice ring and I’ll lie to your parents. I can do it." Chris Chuckled on the other end. "The ring part is something I'm not sure about yet, but if you're down I'll see you Saturday, my house okay?"

"okay, I'll see you then."

Chris hung up the phone and placed it back on the couch. It was show time.

Saturday rolled through fast. You woke up early to make sure you were ready. Even though this wasn't real it didn't stop you from making yourself look appealing.

Later that morning you left to go to Chris' house. When you arrived there Chris was already waiting for you.

"hey, y/n, come in." You let yourself into his concord home and turned around to him. "So um Do you know how to fake a relationship?" Chris asked as he tucked his hands in his pockets.

"are you doubting my acting skills?"

Chris smiled, "no, I'm not, sorry." He stepped around you and Walked to the kitchen. "Well I'm going to grab my stuff and I'll be ready to go." Chris ventured off into his house for his things. You stayed in the foyer giving Dodger some pets.

Not long after Chris returned to the foyer. He was dressed in a button up flannel, basically his usual style. "Alright ready?"

You nodded, "yeah." Chris opened the door and walked outside with you.

-

He took the few minute drive to his mom's house in silence With you in the car. It was a little awkward, but it was nothing you both couldn't handle by playing a little music.

Chris pulled into his mom's driveway 20 minutes later. He put the car in park and turned it off. "Alright," he turned to you. "Here goes nothing."

He got out of the car and shut his door before he ran to your side and opened the door for you. He was really trying to keep up with the sweet boyfriend act and you were loving it to be honest.

You both walked up the stairs together. Before Chris could even lift his hand the door swung open revealing his mom.

"oh, you both made it."

She pulled Chris into a hug and then you. When she pulled away Chris spoke. "Ma this is y/n, y/n this is my mom."

Lisa turned to you, "it's very nice to meet you, heard a lot about you." You turned to Chris a smirk on your face as Lisa told you both to come in. He just strugged and followed her.

You both walked into the house that used to be chris' childhood home. Pictures of his family hung on the wall, some that look recently, some that didn't.

You followed Lisa to the living room where chris' sisters were. When they saw you they got up. "you must be y/n."

Carly was the first to hug you then Shanna. They were sweet and it made you feel a lot more comfortable than you were.

After greeting, you took a seat on the long sectional sofa bedside Chris.

"so y/n, we've heard a lot about you." Shanna said. "He said you were very beautiful and he wasn't wrong."

You turned to Chris for a split second with raised eyebrows before turning back to them. "Thank you, you all are very beautiful and sweet."

-

You all made conversation for a while until dinner was ready. You very much blended in with them and Chris saw it. You were possible the first woman to ever get along the first time you meet his family, sadly your relationship was fake.

-+-

You all ate dinner together. Chris was of course showing affection to you to make it look as real as possible.

After dinner you all returned to the living room. Lisa and Carly showed you some of Chris' old pictures. They were adorable as well.

Chris sat on the other couch watching you. He had a grin on his face. Somehow he started to feel something else for you, something that wasn't a friendship kinda feeling.

Later that day the sun was down, the moon was out and it was time to go. You and Chris returned to the car. You buckled yourself in a sat back with a sigh.

Chris got in, shutting his door. "Well that wasn't so bad was it?" Chris asked turning to you. You smiled and shook your head. "No, we just need to do this faking thing for I don't know, forever."

Chris sighed as he Brought his hands to your knees. "You know we don't have to fake it. It can be real."

You turned to him, "you wanna be in a real relationship?"

Chris nodded, "yeah I mean seeing you interact with My family better than any other woman I dated sparked me with happiness so um yeah."

Chris grew quiet as he grew nervous.

You sighed, "well I don't mind that at all actually." You looked over at Chris, "I like you a lot and I'm more than willing to be in a relationship with you."

You placed your finger under chris' chin and made him look at you. "So yeah, I want a real relationship."

Chris Chuckled before giving you a long, passion kiss. Something he's been wanting to do for years.

-----

@chris-butt @patzammit @bval-1 @raveviolet @mrsbbarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captianamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @lovepeacefood @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @rororo06 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @adriannajackson123 @marvelnaturalock @notyourtypicalrose @dummiesshort @onetwo3000 @hhiggs @katiew1973 @andreasworlsboring101 @skepticnovak @funfickgirl22 @hxnesthxneybee @christhickevans @melchills-j @franchesca-791 @moonlacebeam

[happytroopers]

Origin Day // platonic 501st! Reader

Tw: alcohol use

It’s my 21st birthday and I want to go clubbing with the 501st

“Wait, isn’t twenty-one like a big deal for civvies?” Fives asked, watching you wrench a bolt tighter on the sliding door of a gunship in the large hangar of the Coruscant GAR barracks. Most clone troopers genuinely didn’t understand the sensationalized idea of birthdays (or as most people in the galaxy called them: Origin Days). The closest they had was when they were let out of the growth chambers. You shrugged, giving the wrench one last pull before wiping the sweat off your forehead.

“On some planets.” You hummed, “For some species. Depends on when the government deems your species old enough to drink alcohol.”

“So you can enlist in the military, but can’t go for a drink.” Echo asked, eye brows furrowing while Fives muttered something about that being bullshit.

You gave the gunship one last appraisal before deciding you had done all you could do. If they wanted those dents out, high command would have to sanction heavy equipment. Finally, you looked back to the Arc trooper duo.

“Which is why you’ve never seen me in 79’s.”

“Civie laws make no sense.” Fives stated bluntly, kicking himself off the crate he’d be lounging on. “So are you doing anything?”

“Well, my childhood friends live on a different planet, and my academy friends are all deployed at the moment.” You voice was strained as you stretched your arms over your head, “Aside from getting those AT-RT’s back in working order? Not unless you two have any brilliant ideas.”

Over your head, the two Arc troopers shared a look. They did in fact have an idea-though ‘brilliant’ was a little bit generous.

_______

“Don’t you two have an early call time tomorrow?” You yelled over the thumping music, subconsciously tugging at your outfit (you had forgotten how exposing civvie clothes felt compared to your military uniforms).

79’s was busier than usual according to Echo who was walking in front of you to part the crowd. Fives was behind you, guiding you with a warm hand on the small of your back.

“Yeah, but you don’t.” Fives answered with a smile in his voice. In front of you Echo nodded.

“We’ll manage.” He paused, pulling you in front of him and pointing to a back corner, “Besides, I doubt it’ll be that much of a problem.”

You eyes followed his finger to find an unexpected sight. Half of the 501st was gathered around a corner booth, even Captain Rex who rarely ever ventured to the club scene.

Fives and Echo watched your expression carefully, relieved when you broke into a laugh and your hands flew to your mouth.

“It’s not much but-“ Echo started in with something cheesy, but you cut him off, taking both his and Fives hands as you pulled them towards the corner.

“It’s perfect.” You promised. And it was. For some the party had already started: Hardcase and Jesse were clutching long necked bottles while they teased Tup. Kix and Rex were chatting over swirling low ball glasses of whiskey. And to your surprise, Dogma even come, even if he was just clutching a glass of water like a life preserver.

When they finally caught sight of you, you could hear their whoops and hollers over the music.

“Hey!” “There she is!” “Wooooo, (Y/N)!”

Amongst other greetings were chorused as you were pulled into the fold. Echo passed you off to Jesse who through an arm around your shoulders, easily pulling you to his side while Hardcase clapped a hand onto your back. Tup simply offered you a kind smile. They were all laughing and it was contagious.

Rex didn’t get up, but he did raise his glass to you with a nod and a smile. Dogma, who looked like he didn’t truly want to be there, at least managed a smile, even if it was a bit forced. You appreciated his presence, nonetheless. Kix slid out of the booth, fingers dipping into a pocket on his belt and producing a medium sized, clear gel capped pill before planing it in your hand. You took it, a little hesitantly, but looked up at him in confusion.

“It’s a hydration supplement. You’re gonna wanna take that if you want to function tomorrow.” He promised with a wink, offering the untouched glass of water. You followed his instructions and then the party really started.

While Kix had been being the responsible one, Hardcase had snuck off and had returning with a tray of nine shots that glowed a not-so-subtle neon blue. Because that’s what you should do- drink things that glow.

After placing them on the table, everyone took one of the tiny glasses (or in Dogma’s case was bullied into taking one), and looked to Rex expectantly.

“Well, Captain, aren’t you going to give a toast?” Fives chided, holding his shot up. Rex rose an eye brow, but mirrored the action.

“Alright. We’re very lucky to celebrate together tonight and even luckier to call (Y/N) our friend. Let’s drink to the 501st, to the Republic, and to many more years for (Y/N).” He announced very seriously and sincerely, locking eyes with you. It was almost enough to make you misty eyed- had Hardcase not immediately yelled.

“Hell yeah, I’ll drink to that! To (Y/N)!!” He shouted, and before you could changed your mind to raised the glass to your friends and threw it back. Surprisingly, the glowing liquor was sweet, a flavor you couldn’t quite place, but it did leave a burning trail down your throat. You coughed, at first, before shivering when the alcohol settled into your belly. The boys laughed at your expression.

“Well, if you’re not gonna drink it,” Hardcase shrugged, plucking the tiny glass out of Dogma’s hand and putting it in yours, “the birthday girl should.”

It was going to be a night.

And it was.

There were a couple of shots thrust into your hands periodically through the night that sustained the bubbly warmth moving through you blood. Between the shots, Fives and Echo did a good job of convincing random soldiers to buy you drinks. There was dancing and laughter, enough to last a lifetime.

Rex was the first to leave, handing you a glass of water and reminding you to pace yourself before looking sternly at Fives and Echo, “You two makes sure she gets home safe, that’s an order.”

Dogma was next, slipping out shortly after Rex. But not before you convinced to dance with you. It was stiff and awkward, but you managed to get him to laugh before the song was up. After Hardcase loudly boo-ed him for ‘wussing’ out, he wished you a happy Origin Day and reminded you of the call time for the next day.

That was when Jesse delivered you a fruity little umbrella drink, and coincidentally that was when night became a little fuzzy.

Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, Tup, and Kix took turns dancing with you, trading you around. Jesse even scared some shiny off when they tried to ease into your dance, getting a little too handsy for his taste. At one point, Jesse and Hardcase had you hoisted onto their shoulders as Tup waited ready to catch you if they dropped you. Before you knew it, the bartender was calling last call.

Then there were flashes of the journey home. Stumbling out of 79’s with the rest of the late night crowd, not being able to flag a taxi big enough for seven, deciding to walk, getting distracted by greasy street food, tripping over your own feet bad enough that Kix had to patch up your scraped up knees, and winding up at the Clone barracks being carried on Echo’s back, fast asleep. The only thing you remembered from the barracks was passing a group of clones in black and red armor, and one of them muttering, ‘regs...’ in disdain. By the time they realized they forgot to take you home, they were too tired to remedy it.

And that’s how you woke up in Hardcase’s bunk, with the said solider crashing on top of Tup in the bunk below you. Fives and Echo were slumped against each other, sitting on the floor. Kix was the only one where he was supposed to be and he was sleeping very soundly. Jesse was nowhere to be found.

None of you made it to call on time.