#wanted to keep that sleekness about him while showing a bit of a... idk .. growing into himself?

[thelostmoongazer]

some concepts i did for a Sonic redesign!

plus a bonus comic cuz a friend suggested that he has a quick and easy way to salvage his clothes since hes constantly getting in situations that could ruin his drip:

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you get me” (famous!y/n x harry)

Famous!y/n x Harry Styles

First Harry fic so please be kind, but feedback is SUPER appreciated

Initially inspired by the picture of Harry leaving the Gucci store with 15 bags but barely has anything to do with that lol

Definitely thought of Ellen for the interview idk why tho - also I struggle with writing Harry’s dialogue because I really want to get it right, but hopefully the more practice I get, the better/more natural it will sound. ALSO i have like no music or music industry background lol. Somewhat proofread, but its 2:30 am so it could be shit

Fluff!

Warnings: maybe some angst over being famous per say, past loneliness

Word Count: 3.7k literally howwww, i’m going to do a pt. 2 though because it was kind of a long set up and feelingsssss

---

Interviewer: Please, welcome our next guest, a woman who’s sure to have her name written up beside the music greats someday, Ms. Y/N L/N!

You can’t contain the grin that spreads to your face as you carry yourself out onto the stage and see the audience cheering for you. It was your third big interview since your first album had been released and you’d seen your fame skyrocket over night. This being the third one this week meant you’d gotten comfortable getting asked questions, but you also weren’t bored of it yet. It was exhilarating being the center of attention, especially for something that had been your life’s work up until this point. You always had to fight for whatever you got and the recognition you were starting to have was reassurance that you hadn’t been a fool to risk a safe and certain life for your dreams.

The interview begins as the rest had, a few pleasantries, how you were feeling, and then the introduction of the album. The host asked you what your inspiration was for some of the songs and the album name and cover. You loved to talk about the music, it was the whole reason you were there. The meaning, the sound, the name, it all meant so much to you and you talked about how music can be interpreted differently by everyone and even the shifts in someone’s mood can change a song’s meaning, but what it meant to you at the time of writing was always something specific. You practiced those answers in the mirror before the interviews because they were important to you and you didn’t want your words on your art to ever be misconstrued. The host then complimented your style and you were at the point where you thought your interview should be wrapping up when they asked you one more question, and it threw you for a loop.

Interviewer: So Y/N, we’ve been hearing some rumblings around, about you and another famous musician, Mr. Harry Styles. Anything going on there?

Your face heated up, you hadn’t been expecting a personal question about possible relationships. Nothing like this had been asked of you at your previous interviews. It’s about the music, the art, and who you were, it’s always about that and nothing more. To be honest, you were a bit annoyed the host had chosen to stray from those topics. You didn’t care for the celebrity side of being a famous musician, the lack of privacy, the prying eyes of media and the general public. They saw enough of you through your art, you bore your soul through music why did they want to peak into your heart as well?

Y/N: I don’t know if I’d rather be with Harry Styles or actually be Harry Styles. Like, he’s literally such an icon, I want to be able to walk out of a Gucci store after spending hours there with 15 bags full of my purchases and helpers to carry it all out c’mon… He’s also an amazing songwriter, musician, and performer, of course. Didn’t mean to sound superficial, but I’d also love to own even half of his closet.

You hadn’t really answered the question, but the audience laughed and the host obviously got the hint that you weren’t interested in fanning any flames of romance with Harry Styles or anyone else. For one, you didn’t even know the man, but you had always been a loving fan of his. You cited him as one of your role models when you were first starting to try and break into the music world. Second, if you did know him, that wouldn’t be an appropriate topic for your album press junket going on, even if it meant more publicity because of Harry’s big celebrity status. The host decided to qualify their original question with a final sentiment.

Interviewer: I totally feel the same way! I only ask because the outpouring of support you’ve received seems to be from similar groups who also follow Harry. Many have been comparing your sound to his solo career work.

Y/N: Ah...well that’s very kind of people to say. He’s definitely a big inspiration, his creativity and drive is incredible. I’d love to be as successful as him someday.

The interview ended. You and the host shook hands and you waved and sent kisses to the crowd before retreating backstage. You were exhausted, but happy. You hoped to avoid anymore stressful interview questions that didn’t truly revolve around music. Of course, life is never that simple.

-

One month later

You had done countless more interviews and talk shows as promo for your album and the buzz around it had continued to grow. Your fame continued to rise as well and that one question you had dodged at your third interview had come back around to bite you, naturally. Daily Mail’s dumb headline read: “Y/N can’t decide! Date Harry Styles or Steal His Closet?” The Sun was also running with your response and miscontruing it completely, something about how you were madly in love with Harry but jealous of his designer partnerships, you couldn’t even stomach reading the garbage. This was your worst nightmare. Not only was it taking away the focus from your album, but you were also sure this dumb gossip had reached the very set of ears that the gossip was allegedly also about.

You had signed with Columbia Records for your first album, the same record label as Harry Styles, so managers had been in contact with one another about the whole fiasco trying to get the actual truth - which was that the two of you didn’t even know each other and there were no problems whatsoever. Your manager also brought along the good news that Harry had actually listened to your album and loved it, “He said ‘Congratulations’ by the way, loved the sound. Said he’d heard you were very music focused and be open to do some mentoring on songwriting and vocal specifics, if you wanted. It’d have to be in private though, obviously.” She had added the last bit, but you understood why. To have the opportunity to discuss your music with one of your longtime role models, heroes even, was beyond anything you could have imagined coming from your album’s success. And it made the drama all the more palatable because now you at least got to talk to Harry like the media was so adamantly saying you were doing already.

You nodded quickly and agreed, while trying to keep your teenage fangirl excitement hidden below your mature now-famous musician facade. Like you said, Harry was your hero, he’d been your hero since you were in middle school and had Up All Night downloaded on your iPod touch, blasting it as loud as possible, sound hitting your poster-filled walls. You weren’t the same girl as you were then, obviously, you had grown up to be a strong, independent, and confident woman. But, you still smiled at the thought of your younger self with your baby face squealing in the nosebleeds at the Take Me Home Tour (where you swore Harry had looked straight at you) and her seeing you now, dressed in a sleek outfit setting up an appointment to meet with Harry to discuss your first album, a success.

-

The next Thursday evening

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your pursed lips. You were anxious and excited at the exact same time. Your meeting with Harry was tonight, right now actually, and you hadn’t been able to think about much else since your manager had confirmed the meeting last week. She got you the details a couple of days ago, the location: his house in Malibu, the time: 5:45 P.M. You had brought along a copy of your album on vinyl because you thought it sounded best this way, second only to performing it live.

Choosing your outfit for tonight was probably the toughest decision you’d ever made, harder than choosing between an education and following your dreams, harder than choosing your favorite Beatles song. You didn’t want to worry so much, this wasn’t a date you kept reminding yourself, but everything you tried on earlier kept having something wrong with it, too dressy, too boring, too ‘not yourself’. You had settled for these blue high-waisted pants that you’d worn to your first ever podcast interview, a thin black long sleeve, and a brown leather coat that fell below your hips with vans sneakers, casual, simple, yet still true to you and your vibe.

You raised your free arm and formed a fist, hesitant to knock, as if you’d damage Harry’s seemingly perfect Malibu beachfront home by knocking too hard on the wooden front door. You waited a few moments and could here some shuffling behind the door, some incoherent words were seemingly said, but the walls muffled them before they could reach for ears. Soon enough, Harry Styles in the flesh was before you. He beamed down at you, huffing, slightly out of breath as if he had been clear across the house when you knocked. His strong figure towered above your far smaller stature. He was hanging onto the door since he had opened it only slightly. “Hello, Y/N?” he greeted and questioned simultaneously. “Hi,” you responded and extended the same hand that had just rapped against his now open door. He gripped it, ushering you into his home, “Come in, come in, it’s nice to meet you, don’t want you to catch a cold now do we?” He took note of your strong handshake and ring clad fingers.

He walked you into an area between the kitchen and a sitting area. The kitchen was open aside from a bar high top between the two rooms. You sat down at his prompting and made yourself comfortable. “I brought my record on vinyl, sounds best in my opinion, otherwise I’d recommend seeing it live,” you laughed as you handed the vinyl to him and took off your coat. “Technically, y’know, I could hear it live right now, if you were willin’ f’course,” Harry had responded over his shoulder as he placed the vinyl by his idle record player, “Anything to drink?” “Just water for me, please.” His accent was even stronger in person, especially since he had moved back to London and seldomly stayed in California, except for business and quick trips. As far as you knew, he had already been here on business for the week and was able to pencil you in.

You two settled in, with your waters, seated at the bar top beside each other, but swivelling the chairs to face one another more. Again, you were overwhelmed with the reality of the situation, sitting beside Harry Styles as professionals, peers even. He had heard your work and liked it enough to want to discuss it with you. It was a day you never thought would come to pass. He started off not by asking about the music right away, but about how you were doing with the whirlwind that stardom is. “How are you, Y/N? It’s been somewhat of a out of the frying pan into the fire kind of moment for you?” He stared at you intently, caring to hear your answer.

You couldn’t help but chuckle again and contain your smile, “Thank you for asking, Harry. Yeah, its been definitely stressful, but it’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more so the good is still outweighing any bad. Definitely, fucking exhausted though, dunno how many more interviews I can do before my jaw goes completely rigid from talking so much.” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh, his eyes shone with intrigue at what you said and how you said it. You were gorgeous, but it was how your hands helped you through what you were trying to say and the small laughs you tried to keep in while you amused yourself with your words that really made him want to hear you talk all night long.

He agreed about how the promo junket for an album can get tedious and tiresome, but also the absolute fulfillment you get from people loving the music you’ve made. The two of you chatted about surface level personal matters for a little more, but quickly moved to the music. “I took a listen a couple weeks after the album was released. I especially loved the last track. It reminded me so much of a song I never released, actually…” he trailed off.

Your final track had been a ballad, an homage to George Harrison with your use of guitar and sitar, but the lyrics were a story based off of a poem you had written one night in high school. It surrounded a girl never feeling quite good enough for the person she wanted to be with and how it happened everytime, everytime she was ready to giver herself to someone, they were always closed off. Of course it held some truth to your own life and feelings, but you wrote this girl as someone with a seemingly perfect life - when yours was obviously far from any semblance of perfection.

You wondered what Harry’s song would have sounded like, had it been about a seemingly perfect girl or a guy with a seemingly perfect life, always giving himself to the wrong person and getting destroyed by that very fact because he was impatient as the girl in your song had been. “Can I ask, how so? How’d it remind you of your own song, the words or the music?” “Oh, the story, I felt like that for a time in my life and I like to be vulnerable in my songs because it helps me process, but listening to it back has always been too painful. Could never release that or perform it, it’d wreck me.” You nodded, you completely got where he was coming from. You noticed his downcast eyes and his somber tone, you knew not to push it any further.

It was quiet and you decided it’d be okay to take his hand resting between the two of you. “Harry, I understand,” your sincerity spilled into the words, filling the quiet house, “It’s not easy. Feeling that way. Thinking you’re the only goddamn one and why the fuck does it always happen to you? I used to ask my ceiling ‘why me?’ every night of high school” you smiled then. “But you know how it is,” you rubbed your thumb over his large warm hand and he lifted his head, “it gets so much better - c’mon look at us now! It can get hard, too, all this, I’m sure. But our lives? They’re amazing!” He beamed as he had when he had first seen you at his door and when you’d first really spoke. He moved his hand from under your palm to weave your fingers with his, both of your hands with covered in rings and they clinked to fit together, finally resting perfectly fitted. He shook your two hands up and down, “God, you’re so right! That damn song, m’sorry always puts me in a mood,” he shakes his head, “not yours though, f’course, s’lovely, better than my sodding song” he finishes quickly.

After that, the mood lightened right back up. It filled you with such appreciation for Harry that he would trust you so much with such a personal detail since you two had just met. But maybe, he had trusted you because he had felt that same spark between you. It wasn’t necessarily a romantic spark, but it was obvious the two of you were kindred spirits. Besides your album, the two of you talked about everything. You loved the same bands, movies and books, you both loved to cook and had similar fashion taste, you even had the same person type - something you found out late into the night.

At the end of the Side B of your album, Harry switched to a Bill Evans record that had ‘Peace Piece’ on it. You loved that song. So did he. “So...planning to raid my closet?” Harry raised his brows from the record player and walked back to you. You almost sputtered the water in your mouth. Luckily, you got it down. “Pardon?” “All that bad press the two of us have been getting...I watched the interview that kind of ignited the tabloids. You’re obviously not used to those overstepping personal questions.” You nodded. “It’s fine, even if you’d completely shut it down, the tabloids probably would have picked it up still, they snap up anything and everything, true or not.” You softened at his reassurance. You hadn’t expected Harry to bring the interview up, but you were sure he wasn’t happy about it, he was so private, especially about his love life. “Thanks, I’m sorry I tried to laugh it off, kind of made it worse, didn’t I?” “No! Thought it was hilarious and I totally appreciated the sentiment. Little ol’me, an icon? And an amazing artist? All I gotta do is watch that clip and I’ve fed my narcissistic side for the week!” You giggled and replied slyly, “So does that mean I can raid your closet? As compensation, of course.” Harry threw his head back in an all consuming laughter, when he’d composed himself he looked in your eyes again and said, “You just...God, you get me.”

Harry had continued to put records on throughout the night, diligently flipping sides and asking for requests, he of course had an extensive collection. The two of you had moved onto his plush couch that looked out his french doors to the beautiful ocean view. Finally, your exhaustion caught up to you, mid-Harry describing his latest travel fiasco, you glanced up at the clock. You gasped. Harry stopped. “When did it get to be half 12?” you questioned almost incredulously, “I’ve gotta get home, Harry, but this has been truly amazing, more than I could have asked for, so thank you.” Your speech began to rush as you started to get up and gather your things, that had slowly scattered as you’d gotten more comfortable, jacket by the table, shoes around the back of the couch, your phone forgotten somewhere in the couch. You couldn’t believe you’d spent almost seven hours just talking with Harry Styles.

Harry quickly stood up from his relaxed positioned on the couch and asked if you were alright to drive this late. You scoffed, “Oh please, I’ve driven around at 3 am before, I just have to turn up the music and I can cruise.” He smiled, “This was great, Y/N, I know we didn’t really go super in depth into your writing process, but I’d love to write with you sometime or just hang out again f’course. Your seriously talented and obviously a wonderful person.” He didn’t include that he felt like he’d never met anyone like you, never met someone so perfectly matched to himself, in passions but also in work ethic and demeanor - compassionate yet confident. He felt like you got him perfectly and he got you. You had stopped your scramble to gather yourself and now you were both smiling at one another.

This had really been an unforgettable night, you couldn’t believe how well you two had meshed, like childhood friends reconnecting after years apart. “Can I give yeh a hug before you go?” Harry’s voice had grown raspier as the night had progressed. He had grown rather tired an hour ago, but had pushed through because they had been having so much fun and you hadn’t noticed his physical fading or the time, obviously. You stepped toward him and his large tattooed arms enveloped you into his body. His body truly dwarfed yours now as he held you to his chest. You both were warm and soft. He tucked his head on top of yours that rested on his chest. Your arms were loosely resting where his back met his waist because you would have had to strain to get them to encircle him. His arms rested around your small frame. “Love your jacket,” he mumbled into your hair. His rough voice was quiet, but the house was silent otherwise, Tusk Side C had finished around when you had noticed the time. The embrace lasted long, but it felt so amazing you had a hard time pulling yourself away, but you had to get back home.

“G’night Harry” you said softly at the threshold of his home. He had insisted on walking you to the front door at least, since you had declined his offer to walk you out to your car on the street. “G’night. Safe travels.”

You got in your car and headed to your apartment in the city. You didn’t bother digging for your phone so you turned on the radio and drove home singing whatever came on, including your own song at one point. The whole time you drove with a grin. Harry was the nicest person you’d ever met and you were confident that the two of you were friends now. As you pulled into your parking garage it dawned on you why you hadn’t connected your phone immediately when you got in your car. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you put the car in park and rested your palms in the depressions of your eyesockets, over your closed eyelids, and rubbed hard. “Fuck!” It was far too late to drive back out to Malibu for your phone and you obviously couldn’t text Harry that you’d left your phone at his place, despite the two of you exchanging numbers during the night for future hang outs, so they didn’t have to be arranged through your managers, like playdates. Even if he found your phone between the cushions, he couldn’t drop it at your place in the morning because he didn’t know your address. This was a whole mess, you thought. You’d have to drive over in the morning and hope he was still there or email your manager from your computer. The former meant you got to see Harry sooner and likely your phone, too.

part 2

-

@berrynarrybanana​

[companionship]

okay one big post to get the finale out of my system! it's been lovely reading all of your analyses and reactions, and looking at all your amazing gifs and edits :')

fair warning: this is going to be so stinking long omfg

the things i enjoyed:

vincenzo remaining an anti-hero through and through, especially the fact that he didn't hold back at all when it came to myunghee and hanseok's death. he gave them a taste of their own medicine and then some forreal, their deaths were brutal but oddly satisfying, and i'm saying this as someone who usually hates violence/gore. throughout the show, they've always hinted at what he was Truly Capable Of and boy did we get to see it

vincenzo fumbling in hanseok's house and not being his usual self – a lot of people thought it was ooc, which i understand! i felt like that was the Point, to show that for once, he's not the invincible mafia consigliere that everyone thinks he is. what he did to the man who killed his mother and the army of security guards was a reaction, but this is the first time he's flustered, caught at a disadvantage, and faced with the very real possibility that he might lose somebody incredibly important to him. idk it made him more human to me

vincenzo literally not hesitating for even 0.1 seconds to fold his entire body around hers when he thought hanseok was going to shoot again – yeah that whole bit made my heart clench i feel like a crazy person i won't get over it

the chayenzo hospital scene... my god it was so tender my heart broke. the laugh they both shared, out of sheer relief that she's okay. the little joke about paying for the private room. the way not much was being said, but everything was being said at once. the way they looked at each other, as if it wouldnt ever be enough :( the quiet acceptance that this is their last night together, and that he's going to have to kill a bunch of people after this, but for now they have this. for however brief.

chayoung being chayoung – her big ass personality at the courtroom at the end after winning ms oh's case. her hopping around in those heels, looking elegant and sleek, mocking the hell out of rich conglomorates. she's in her element again and it made me so, so happy to see. i absolutely adore her, she's everything really. after all that loss and the whole ordeal, i'm glad she's able to return to what she does best: putting capitalists back in their place

mr lee being Very Much Not Dead – idk how i wouldve been able to handle it after witnessing hanseo's death like im glad he got the chance to be a dad

the kiss – my god....

the things i didn't like:

hanseo's death – lmao is it even a surprise... say what you will about his death being foreshadowed, but i really just hated hated it. i hate that hanseok won this one. i hate that hanseo worked so hard to redeem himself, only to lose it all. i hate that he was given a taste of what a real family was like, and then having it taken away so cruelly. even though i said above that i didn't mind that vincenzo was ooc at the mansion, i was still screaming at the screen because there were plenty of opportunities for the situation to be reversed. i don't necessarily blame vincenzo for hanseo's death, but i do wish that they had a funeral scene for him. i wish they acknowledged his sacrifice, and how pivotal he was in turning the tables. if not for hanseo, vincenzo really couldn't have pulled any of this off, from the interpol tipoff to the tracking device in the watch. idc idc hanseo is in malta rn, enjoying the sun and the beach, going to therapy, and teaching the local kids how to play hockey even though there's no ice :(

chayoung being bedridden the whole finale – like... NAH lmao this aint it chief... if things went my way, she wouldve gotten out of the hospital depite her injury and dealt with myunghee before handing her off to vincenzo. i loved their animosity for each other, and i wanted chayoung to be the one at myunghee's apartment waiting for her, rubbing it into her face. i wanted chayoung to verbally finish myunghee with that sharp ass tongue of hers and really dump a load of salt on her wounds. then vincenzo could do whatever the hell he wanted. you could argue that the show is called Vincenzo but i really dont care lmao it started with chayoung avenging her dad and she should've been able to strike the final blow. also what was her big second party? are we really just going to ignore her capacity for evil? after all that moral work done, after that time she spent coming to terms with using evil to combat evil, we're just going to... keep her bedridden? park jaebum u will pay for this

vincenzo losing his family – besides hanseo's death, i think this was what i hated the most from the ending. the start of the show showed us vincenzo's departure from the mafia with the very clear intention of Not Returning. the capo died, his loyalties lie with no one, paolo can suck it. throughout the show, we see him repeat over and over that he wants to get the gold and skip off to malta to enjoy a peaceful life there, while reflecting/repenting for the things he's done. vincenzo was gearing up for a lifetime of solitude. the whole point of the show was for him to find a real family and have a real chance at happiness. park jaebum really said FUCK THAT! we're gonna have him ditch the family that he built from scratch with the love of his life and then make him return to the family that tried to kill him AND make him the capo... pjb said we're gonna separate vincenzo from the family that accepts his past and sees it as a strength and not a weakness. the family that was formed out of solidarity, the family that he fought for and fought alongside with blood, sweat and tears. not to mention the goddaughter of his? sorry i would laugh if it didn't actually rile me up so bad

vincenzo not being able to come back to korea – i've said this in another post of mine, but given that he is The Vincenzo Cassano with all those resources at his disposal (guillotine file, mr ahn/mr cho/the chief etc.), the fact that he isnt even able to stay in korea for 30 fuckin minutes after finishing hanseok was ridiculous. the whole police chase was dumb as hell considering that the show has managed to stop politicians and mf presidential candidates from going after him like ? huh LMAO park jaebum had an on-demand pigeon army in this show and Yet he can't stop like 10 suddenly-righteous policemen. another big ass HUH

chayenzo (here we go...):

NOPE! i've reflected on the ending and decided that i'm going to be petty and salty for a while more before coming to terms with it

i can rationalise and try to be positive and tell myself that their love is enduring can transcend space and time and that in due time, they will find their way back to each other, and i have no doubt that they will because they're one soul in two bodies. it's quite literally canon that they're soulmates.

but let me wallow for a second

here we have two people who have done questionable and terrible things in their past coming together, growing together, grieving together, fighting together... you get the gist of it. you have two people who have found a home in each other. two people who, for all intents and purposes, were about to live in a whole lot of bitterness and solitude if not for each other and the life they built together (chayoung didn't have friends like that, and her family is gone too). to separate them like that at the very end is cruel. i know chayoung and vincenzo are mature and incredible and will be able to function without the other next to them. i know that they will still excel as lawyers and will defeat evil with their underhand methods the way they do so well but my god are they going to feel the absence and miss each other

my point is that they shouldn't have to. from what i could tell, they can't even communicate on a regular basis bc he'll be tracked and whatnot, hence the postcards. a postcard every month is a poor substitute for all those nights they stayed up drinking makgeolli and celebrating their wins. its a shitty replacement for coffee dates and fist bumps and all the moments in between. after everything they've been through, after literally fighting to death for their family, they don't deserve this. they don't deserve to meet up once a year for a couple of hours. they don't deserve pockets of time in malta or korea, their life in a perpetual countdown to when they're going to see each other next

they both deserve love and some semblance of peace (finally finally). they both deserve to have someone to come home to after a hard day of work, because doing what they do cannot be easy. they both deserve a family, deserve to have someone next to them that accepts their past and would embrace their future. they both deserve a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. i know they will still be It for each other despite the distance, i just wish the distance didn't even exist in the first place bc its stupid and cruel and their love shouldnt have to be proven or tested with time and space. let them stay together. let them grow together. let them be.

side note: song joongki and jeon yeobeen need another project together idc take it up with god

tl;dr: park jaebum u will be paying for my therapy bills

[undercoveravenger]

Selective Mutism

Pairing: Ben X Son of Ursula!Reader Requested: Yes Request: Can i get a ben x son of Ursula where he doesn’t talk often (selective mutism) because of the way his mother behaves, uma kind of dislikes him and he doesn’t really have a group until he meets ben and just kind of follows him around, also one of the scrapped ideas for the little mermaid was king triton being related to ursula, and triton decides he wants to meet his nephew w/ family angst idk thanks np if u don’t want to :) A/N: To the anon who requested this, thank you for the prompt: I had a lot of fun with this one! Sorry I wasn’t able to include everything you asked for in this one (and that the reader and Ben are still pretty platonic :/) but I’m thinking of making a part two depending on how this one is recieved. As always, let me know if there’s anything you want changed! 

Link to Part 2: CLICK HERE

__________________________________________________________ 

  The first time you saw King Ben was after your sister had her first mate Harry Hook kidnap him and tie him to the mast of her ship. She had seen you watching on curiously and was quick to demand that you keep an eye on him while she and the crew went to the Chip Shop to celebrate. Used to the demanding nature that your younger sister and mother shared, you nodded wordlessly and moved to perch yourself on one of the ship’s railings where you’d be able to simultaneously keep an eye on the unconscious royal and watch for any signs of your sister’s return.

You hadn’t been staring out over the waves for long when you heard the brunet stirring behind you. It was clear precisely when he realized the situation since you were easily able to tell when his breathing quickened and he began to struggle against his restraints.

He let out a distinct sigh of relief when his eyes fell on your unmoving figure, “Hey,” he called quietly and you forced yourself not to jolt in surprise. “Could- could you please untie me?” The watery lighting was just bright enough for Ben to make out the shifting of your silhouette as you shook your head. “If you can’t untie me, then could you at least tell me why I’m here?”

You shook your head again, but Ben didn’t let your reluctance to talk dissuade him. “If this is because I’m the King, then-”

“It’s not,” you mumbled quietly, the brunet’s continued chattering starting to grate at your patience.You shifted your position slightly, turning so you could face him, “Uma wants the wand and she’s using you to get it.”

Ben’s initial shock at hearing you speak was quickly wiped away as he processed your words, “The wand? But no one in Auradon is stupid enough to trade something that powerful for me…”

You nodded, raising an eyebrow pointedly as you gesture behind you at the looming peaks of the Forbidden Mountains and the swirling storm clouds above them that perpetually blanketed the Isle of the Lost.

Ben’s eyes widened as he realized what you meant, “No, no one in Auradon would, but people are different here. There are different rules and people are willing to go further for the ones they care about.” His gaze had dropped to the rough wooden planks that made up the deck of the ship, but his dark brown eyes snapped up to meet yours as a thought struck him. “You’ve got to help me get out of here; I can’t let them trade the wand. Please, help me get back to my friends and I’ll- I’ll take you back with us! You can leave the Isle and start a new life in Auradon! You can go to Auradon Prep and-”

“Why would I want to do that?” Ben’s eyes widened as you stood from your perch, the height difference between the two of you becoming startlingly apparent as you approached him. “This godforsaken place is all I’ve ever known and it’s all I ever will know. Nothing you do or say will change that.”

You backed away from the king, lowering your head as your sister’s voice rang out, echoing through the still night air as she approached you. “What were we talking about?” She sneered, glancing between the two of you mockingly. Uma’s eyes narrowed as she turned on you, “Never mind, if you were saying something, it clearly wasn’t very important.”

Ben bristled, clearly upset by the way your sister was speaking to you, “Hey, that was actually pretty rude so-”

Uma whirled to face Ben, eyes narrowed dangerously, “Does it look like I care what you have to say, Your Highness?” she snarled. “Look, just because you’re wearing ripped jeans, doesn’t mean you know anything about this place or what it takes to grow up here, so stop acting so high and mighty. Besides, my brother doesn’t have much to say anyway; my mother made sure of that.”

Ben could see you wince from your place behind Uma and he opened his mouth to retort, only to close it again when you shake your head, silently telling him to let it go. Uma nodded, seemingly satisfied with his level of compliance before taking hold of your arm and dragging you off just a little too roughly, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.

------------

The second time you had a run-in with the King was the following afternoon, when the bad-turned-good villain kids were supposed to turn Fairy Godmother’s wand over to your sister in exchange for Ben. You had been lingering behind the rest of the crew until it was revealed that the wand was a fake and a fight broke out between the rest of the crew and Ben’s friends. It was clear that the group was trying to make it to the large pipe extending from the cliff face that lead back towards the center of the town.

They had all nearly made it across when things went horribly wrong. Ben’s foot had just brushed the bridge when Harry’s hand closed on the back of his shirt, yanking him backward and laughing as the movement knocked the bridge from its place, leaving Ben stranded on the opposite side of the gap from the rest of his group.

You shot a quick glance around you, the fact that the rest of the crew wasn’t close enough to interfere hardly even processing before you were moving. You raced toward the King and his captor, building up enough momentum to knock Harry off balance as you grabbed onto Ben’s arm and using the rest of your forward momentum to drag him with you off of the edge of the pier and into the churning water below.

Unlike Uma, you’d taken largely after your mother in terms of your affinity for water, so it was remarkably easy for you to readjust your hold on the King and drag him along with you as you swam along the base of the bluffs, intending on getting far enough away from the crew so that you could be sure they wouldn’t get to the two of you before you could return Ben to his friends. Finally, you reached the secluded beach where you spent most of your free time and dragged Ben up onto the sand. He was still pretty limp from shock and the blood welling at his temple told you that Harry must’ve gotten in a pretty good blow before you had made your move.

You let out a huff, realizing that Ben wouldn’t be able to walk well on his own in his dazed state. With a firm arm around his shoulders, you swept the other under his knees in a strange parody of a princess carry and began your short hike toward the isolated alleyway that you knew the tunnel lead to.

------------

When you stumbled upon the group of newly reformed V.K.s and their Auradonian companion (You could vividly remember how stunned you were with the assumed princess’s skills with a sword), they were apprehensive until they realized you were carrying Ben. Jay and Carlos were quick to make their way over to you, each moving to help you support the weight of their unconscious friend. Mal and Evie were less willing to trust you, both having recognized you as a member of your sister’s crew, and with how little you spoke, you weren’t exactly in the best place to explain yourself.

You kept your gaze lowered as you helped the boys load Ben into the limo and watched as the strange girl slipped into the sleek black vehicle to keep an eye on him, before slowly backing away. You shot the group a small smile before turning your back and starting to make your exit.

“Wait,” Mal called out after you. You stopped, turning slightly to face her while raising an eyebrow. She looked at her friends for help but Carlos only shrugged helplessly while Evie and Jay grinned noncommittally. Mal rolled her eyes, tossing a wave of her violet hair over her shoulder, “Look, you didn’t have to help him but you did. That sort of thing might not mean much over here, but it means quite a bit back in Auradon.” She smiled slightly, clearly trying not to scare you off, “Come with us. Leave the Isle behind, and your past with it, and come try something new.”

Your brows furrowed as your gaze flickered from face to face, trying to discern whether or not she was being serious. Carlos was grinning widely at you, Jay had crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, clearly trying to feign disinterest, but you could see the way he kept glancing over out of the corner of his eye. Evie was biting her lip to try and muffle her smile, and Mal was looking straight at you, her emerald eyes showing no malice or hint of deceit. After a moment’s deliberation, you nodded, trying to bite back a grin at how excited the rest of your new little crew got at your response.

After that, the five of you were quick to join the still unconscious King and the Core Four’s friend in the limo and that was it; you were finally on your way to a life where you weren’t being forced into the shadows by your sister and her crew. For the first time, you were being handed the chance to dictate your own life, and you couldn’t wait to see where it lead you.

[lostincalum]

Shawn and a grand paino

AN: idk i forgot to edit a bit but yeah

Word count: approximately 1.3k words

TW: none 

Usually Shawn’s instrument of choice was guitar, and you had never seen him play anything else. But considering pianos often appeared on his songs, you should not have been as shocked as you were when you first went to his condo. It was perhaps the fourth or fifth date you had with him, when he decided he wanted to take you home.

“You know, I’m feeling a little nervous about this whole thing”

Shawn was possibly one of the strangest people you had ever met. One moment, he would be all cute and blushing, like now. Other times he was the cockiest little shit you had ever met, like when he was about to come with a good remark to your sarcasm. The response usually consisted of something of an innuendo, but you let it slide because you found them funny.

“Should have thought of it before inviting me in then”

Before you had the chance to look up at him, the lock gave after for the key. Shawn quickly grabbed you by the waist and your senses got invaded by his probably too expensive cologne. You made eye contact, before his dark eyes went to your neck. He kissed your shoulder once before leaving little, faint kisses up to your ear.

“Ha- ha- ha, just you wait. In no time, it’ll be you inviting me inn”

Your response was the desired one, as he pulled away from your attempt to kiss him, with that fucking smirk of his. It was going to be the end of you one day. He squeezed your waist, before opening the door completely. It led to a hallway, that was not all too long. A smell that was more of Shawn than anything else hit you. A shoe rack and coat hangers was fastened on the wall, you quickly stumbled out of his embrace to toe off your sneakers and placed them besides the shoe rack.

By now your curiosity had gotten the best of you. Taking the remaining steps into the living room. The polished state of his condo, seemed well, unfitting for a teenage boy, but you supposed it came from his constantly on the move job. White walls, with a big, comfy, white couch. The coffee table had a rustic vibe to it, while the kitchen seemed to go more for black vibe. A bit to the side of his coffee table and TV, stood a grand fucking piano. A sleek, black grand piano. With a goddamn view too.

“What do you think?”

Shawn had crept up silently behind you, and asked the question silently right above your right ear. There was something teasing about the way you could feel his presence behind you, without him quite touching you.

“It’s surprisingly human, not as messy as I expected though”

You turned and looked at him, his brown eyes seemed deep like the ocean. If you stared longer you were afraid of drowning in them.

“Also, did not expect a grand piano.”

Then the jovial, ever present smile of his made an appearance. Showing off his Hollywood- white teeth and the dimples that made your heart melt.

“Why not a piano? I’d like to think I’m a good pianist”

“I don’t know, you’re just such a guitar guy it’s ridiculous.”

Grabbing hold of his hand, you start pulling him towards the attention craving piano. You sit down on the bench alongside Shawn. Crossing your legs so your right one is resting on his left thigh, you turn to look at him expectantly.

“Play me something, please?”

Without questioning him, you watch his veiny hands as he puts them delicately over the ivory and pitch- black keys. With certain fingers, he plays a familiar tune that you could not quite place. It starts off on the higher notes, a simple arrangement, before growing more complicated. When your brows furrow in attempt to remember he gives you a quick smile.

“Oh my god”

The realisation runs through you, before you smack his arm.

“What?”

He asks with see through incredulous voice. His eyes are crinkling in the corners, he is obviously trying to contain his laughter.

“You did not play the song from Twilight on me”

Now his façade is long gone. His laughter is filing the space of the living room, and you sit there with a disbelieving look on your face. But one look at Shawn’s pure happiness make you crack a smile.

“You’re such a dick”

The whisper is distant, but still there, You cannot help but be entranced by his smile and the laughter that keeps falling from his lips.

---------------------

You wake up early in the morning, Shawn’s arm is slung around your waist and his chest close to your back. Carefully sliding from out of his embrace, you pull the sleeves of his Henley that you wear, over your hands. Taking a look around the bedroom, you find a pair of grey sweatpants hanging from a chair. You pull them up your legs and start wondering out of the room.

The condo is basically an open space and everything seems to have a purpose. The walls in the hallway leading from the bedroom is covered in pictures with family and friends. Such a stark contrast from your own tiny apartment.

Sitting down on the bench in front of the grand piano, you hesitantly place your fingers on the keys, much like Shawn had done the night before. The notes first came slow, sounding fragile. Very unpractised if you would say so yourself. Then they sounded steadier, still playing carefully, your fingers familiarizing themselves with the keys again.

You started singing along softly when you felt surer on your hands.

“You could still be what you want to, what you said you were, when I met you.”

You had not intended to wake Shawn up, but suddenly he sat down beside you, without a word. And, while you stuttered a bit while paying, you got a sudden burst in confidence and continued on.

“You’ve got a warm heart, you’ve got a beautiful mind, but it’s disintegrating-“

It had been a long time since the last time you played, much less sung. But you felt secure in the apartment strangely enough. The feeling just intensified with Shawn around.

“- from all the medicine”

playing the piano was like waking up from a dream, being able to feel again, without actually having to deal with the feelings right away. It had been too long. Losing yourself to the last couple of notes, you finished up up carefully letting the last note ring out in the condo.

“I didn’t know you played”

The curiosity in his voice obvious.

“It’s been a while”

You put your fingers in your lap and started fiddling with them. Now that the rush of playing piano had settled, you suddenly felt very vulnerable.

“I really liked it though both your voice and the playing.”

Taking a look up at him, you got a little lost in sincerity of his eyes.

“Especially the soreness of your voice”

This made you blush, just thinking back on the night before and all the dirty things you did in the safety of the night. In the safety that Shawn brought.

“C’mon, let’s go make some breakfast. I’m starving.”

His voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you took a moment to actually look at him. Apparently, he had found another pair of sweatpants, and when he stretched you caught sight of a purple bruise on his hipbone before it disappeared behind his white T- shirt. A hickey.

“Okay, I make some killer pancakes if you’re up for it”