#I hit 30 pics :( would have added more if i could

[fumifooms]

Canines

The hand that feeds

Mickbell Tomas & Kuro Dungeon Meshi

^ 1: Ink-the-artist, I will remove my teeth / 2: Margaret Atwood / 3: C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy / 4: Mitski, I’m your man / 5: Ojibwa, I love you like a rotten dog / 6: KotOR II / 7: Stardrop, Everything that’s ever been mine is covered in teeth marks / 8: Sodikken, People Eater / 9: Mitski, I’m your man / 10: maxime., The life and death of a dog / 11: Mitski, I bet on losing dogs / 12: maxime., The life and death of a dog / 13: hun, I did not bite with Malice / 14: C. Michael Davis, Don't Pet the Dragon / 15: Mitski, I’m your man

v 1: Early versions of the myth as in aeschylus orestes / 2: Ink-the-artist, I will not remove my teeth

[judysxnd]

I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITINGS ❤

Can I request a pedro × reader?

It's few months into the relationship and pedro , being a bad sleeper , one day woke up from a terrible nightmare . The reader is up so she calms him down and pedro hugs her and tell her ( I love you ) for the first time .

Thank you so so much❤️ it means SO much🥰 love the request, it’s going to be so intimate!! Hope you’ll like it!!

——————————————————————————————

Today has been a long day for Pedro. Waking up at 6am, driving an hour and half for the interviews to promote the last season of the Mandalorian, having lunch at almost 2pm, going to the gym after, and then an appointment with his agent. It was a pretty busy day. As for you, it was a normal work day.

He finally came back around 7:30. You were waiting for him in the living room, scrolling on social media. When you heard the door opening, you stopped what you were doing and went to see him.

“Hey baby” you said shyly, smiling

“Hi angel” his face lit up when he saw you. His movements were slow, kicking his shoes off and putting his stuff away. As he was very happy to finally be home and see you, he was extremely tired. It hit him as soon as he opened the door.

“You look tired” you said, going to hug him. His entire body relaxed as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I’m more than tired” he sighed, holding you tight.

“Yeah I bet you are. Are you also hungry? I was waiting for you”

“A little yeah”

“Uber?”

“Hell yeah. Too tired to cook anything”

“Okay. I’ll order, go take a shower, okay?” You slightly parted, looking at each other.

“You’re too good for me mama” he leaned down to kiss you.

So Pedro went to take his shower. He food arrived right after he joined you in the kitchen. You quietly enjoyed your food and went to bed right away, watching a movie. As you expected, five minutes into the movie and Pedro was dead asleep. You kept watching the movie, it was very interesting.

Trapped in a house. All exists are absolutely no use. The front door? Three steel bear traps. The two French windows in the back? Electric wires in front of them. The windows? Barriers blocking them. The only possible exit are the skylights, but the roof is too high, and it’s not discreet enough to escape the monster. Because yes, there is a monster chasing the man. Nonstop running, going from one hiding spot to another. Sweating, out of breath, unable to run properly, nothing to defend himself. The man goes in a roof, but the monster sees him, so he goes back inside. It’s too dangerous to jump. But there’s something missing. He wasn’t alone. He knows that his girlfriend is missing. He also feels that he is alone, no family anymore. Like they were all gone, they were not existing anymore. The pics on the wall show no face except for the man. He still remembers everything, but- but the pictures? He is alone. Faces erased. What is happening? Oh no, the monster is close. He can hear his heavy breathing. Will he see him in the closet? Oh- yes he did. He swung the door opened. The monster growls, and is about to throw his hands on the man.

Suddenly Pedro wakes up screaming, heavily breathing. It scared you. You sat up next to him, caressing his back, holding his hand

“Wh-What happened?” Pedro asks, still shocked.

“It was a nightmare Pedrito, it’s okay, it’s not real”

“It-It” he paused a second, catching his breath “it felt so real” he put his hands on his face.

“It was not”

“Everyone was-” he couldn’t even say it

“It’s okay, look at me” you put your hand in his cheek, turning his head so that he would look at you. “Look at me, you feel this?” You said touching his hand, his arm, his face. “I’m real, it’s real” you said, making him look around you. He looked at you, not saying anything. You could see his chest moving a lot has he was still out of breath. He suddenly hugged you. “See? I’m real” you added again, hands on his back.

“It was awful, I can’t even describe it”

“Then don’t. Just know that it’s not real. I’m here. I’m real, you’re real.”

“I love you so much” you heard him say. You were surprised, for sure you didn’t expect it. It was the first time either of you said it. Being only together for a few months, it is expectable. You felt butterfly in your stomach. There he was, in pure shock, and saying I love you. It was the purest moment. You let go of him, staring at him, your hands on his cheeks.

“I love you too” you kissed for some time. “Come on, let’s go back to sleep” you turned the tv off. You started to lay down on your side, but Pedro grabbed you.

“Can’t sleep without feeling you corazón, you’re the one keeping me sane” you turned to face him

“I’m not going anywhere.. cariño” he smiled. You hold his hand. “It was just a nightmare. This- This is real” you snuggled right to him, and both fell asleep.

[thisisarcanereverie]

When the World Went to Shit (Chapter 7)

Joel Miller x FEM! Reader

A/N: this is a SPOILER WARNING, this contains spoilers from the series in general.

WARNINGS: Canon level of violence, swears, Joel is sad, talks of grief, PTSD, brief mentions of gore, Eventual Smut, pining (on both ends), grumpy idiots in love, reader is in her late 30's to early to mid 40's. Major character deaths. DISCLAIMER NO CHARACTERS/GIFS/PICS USED ARE MINE.

Summary: 20 years later after the world went to shit you, Joel, and Tess have to take 14 year old Ellie to the Firefly base outside of Boston QZ. What was supposed to be a simple plan turned into something much more complicated.

Prev. Chapter

You woke up with a start, breathing heavily as your head begins to pound as you remember what happened. 

The route you were going to take was blocked, there was no way to blow through it with the truck or move the cars and to get around it would’ve added another day to your journey. So Joel decided to go another route, one that led you into the city. At first everything seemed alright, but then there was a man on the road. He claimed to be injured but there was no blood on his clothes, no obvious signs of infection or any other bodily harm. Joel recognized the trap before you did, and suddenly he floored it; nearly running over the man who had tried to trick you. Next thing you know something smashed the windshield and Joel was losing control of the car. You remember swerving into an abandoned laundromat and Joel’s arm in front of you. After making sure Ellie was alright Joel had checked you for injuries, not even thinking of himself. You remember the worried look in his dark eyes before the gunshots started hitting the truck. You cussed as all three of you got out of the truck, you held onto your pistol as Joel grabbed the shotgun from the back. He ordered Ellie to go through the hold and not to come out until he or you called for her. Ellie seemed reluctant to leave you two to fight, you could see the argument brewing along with fear. You nodded at her, while Joel promised her none of the bullets would hit her. You’re sure that if you had said the same she still would’ve argued, but you had seen it the past few days; her and Joel were cut from the same cloth. So anything Joel said, went. 

After Ellie made it past the hole he had wanted you to hide, but you refused. Instead you rose from your crouched position and began to fire, counting the bullets fired as you tried to aim. You vaguely heard Joel curse at you as he began to do the same, taking cover when needed. It all had happened in a blur, one minute you’re fighting them the next you were knocked on the ground and everything went black. 

You sat up but quickly had to hold onto the floor for dear life as you tried not to fall back down as lightheadedness almost overtook you. 

‘Don’t get up,” you heard Ellie say, her figure slightly blurry but whether that was due to age or concussion you still weren’t sure. 

“What happened?” You asked, clutching your head, hissing a little as your fingers landed on a tender spot. 

“One of them knocked you down,” Ellie explained, “you hit your head on the ground pretty hard.” 

One of them. 

Joel

“Joel,” You said as you tried to stand up, looking for your gun. Joel was out there alone, he needed backup. 

“He’s fine,” Ellie explained, “see” she pointed over to him. He didn’t look worse for wear, a few cuts and forming bruises littering his features, but over all fine. You sighed in relief as you sat back down, your head still pounded. Something nagged at you though. 

“I was all the way over there,” you said, pointing over where the hole was. Or at least, should’ve been, seeing as it was blocked by a heavy object now. 

“I carried you,” Joel said, looking away from the window for a moment. “You’ve only been out for ten minutes.”

“What about the men?” you asked, your eyes narrowing on him. You saw as his eyes lingered on Ellie a moment before returning to the window and you noticed her breathing hitch. You gathered what must’ve happened in a few moments, which you guessed was a good sign. Meaning you were thinking clearly so the chances of a concussion were low. You looked at Ellie, expecting to see something in her eyes, or for her to have changed. You still remembered the first person you killed, they still haunted you in your sleep some nights. You’ve learned to recognize that look in others, the look of someone who had just killed someone for the first time. But you didn’t see that in her eyes, there was a grief in those eyes too old for someone so young. You didn’t press it, you figured Joel would tell you later or Ellie would, if they didn’t that was alright as well. 

“We need to leave,” Joel said, grabbing his flashlight beside him, “We’ll go through the back, use a few back alley’s till we can get somewhere safe for the time being.” You went to stand up, only for the familiar sound of Joel’s boots to stop in front of you, you see his tanned hand and accept it. The roughness of his hands, the callouses and scars littered it. But you didn’t mind, because despite their appearance and Joel’s icy look, they were pleasantly warm. 

…alright maybe you did have a concussion. 

“Can you walk on your own?” Joel asked, you could feel his eyes scanning over you, watching as you lightly pushed yourself off the wall, ignoring the slight pain on your head. 

“Why, you offering?” You asked with your best cheeky smile. 

“You wish.” Joel said as he rolled his eyes, there was a moment where your hands lingered together for a moment, before he let go and you proceeded to follow him. 

You made it a few streets over, hiding behind cars and staying in the shadows of the back alley’s you eventually make it to cover. 

Another abandoned storefront, but at least the windows were covered, old newspapers covered the glass. At least you wouldn’t be seen so easily by people passing by and from what you saw on the way here, it was a good vantage point. Easily scoping out routes and ways to get to a better location. As soon as the door was locked you plopped yourself down on one of the seats available, you're still slightly dizzy but you were almost certain it wasn’t anything serious. You took in a sharp breath as your hand grazed over what you assumed to be a slight cut on the left side of your hairline. You were tempted to grab something for the pain in your bag but thought better of it. You didn’t know what was coming your way and you might need that tylenol in your bag for someone else. 

However that didn’t happen as Joel must have noticed your hesitant hand leaving you bag, because the next thing you know your first aid kit was out and the older man was in front of you. He pulled one of the dusty chairs towards you and sat on it, creaking lightly as he put his weight on it. His fingers gently opened the kit in front of you and began looking through. 

“Joel I don’t nee-”

“Shut up.” Joel interrupted, you were about to speak again when the look in his eyes turned all the words you were about to say into dust. “Let me help you,” he said in a low voice, “please.” You wordlessly nodded as he finally found what he was looking for apparently, something to clean the cut and the painkillers you got from Bill and Franks before you left. Not thinking you would need them so soon. It was heavy duty stuff, you had to do quite a few things you weren’t proud of in order to get that for Frank. You only took it in case something serious happened, and seeing as your only problem was some dizziness and a slight cut you went to correct Joel.

“Joel that medicine is for emer-”

“Listen if you would rather-” 

“If you’d shut up for a second and let me get a word in edgewise,” You interrupted, “I was about to say it’s the wrong medicine. That right there is for major emergencies, the tylenol is right next to it.” You pointed to the other bottle, admittedly it was a well worn plastic bottle, the wrapper long since tatters somewhere so he couldn’t have known. You watch as he mutters something you couldn’t make out as he puts the pills carefully back in their plastic baggie before grabbing the plain bottle you were pointing to. He screwed the top open and handed you two round pills which you took with a swig of water from your bag. You didn’t realize how dry your throat was at that moment until you felt the semi cool liquid running down your throat. You coughed a little as you put the cap back on, you needed to conserve it. It wasn’t like there were any water bottles lying around and the nearest stream you guessed was out of the city. You quietly secured the bottle to your bag, all the while not paying attention to the man in front of you. It wasn’t until you felt his fingers gently touch the wound on your head, causing you to wince a little and bring your attention back to him. His brows were furrowed and a thin frown decorated his face, he looked angry but his hand was gentle. 

“I probably don’t have a concussion,” You said as you cleared your throat, fighting off the slight flush to your cheeks, “the worst of it is the cut I probably won’t even need stitches. Just hand me some tape or something and I’ll do the rest.” You reached for the tape beside him but Joel was faster, grabbing the tape before you got to it. 

“I’ve got it,” he said with gravel in his voice. You made one more attempt at grabbing the tape before you accepted his help. You tried to avoid looking at him, but when he was close enough for you to smell the earthy scent on his skin and the slight cedar scent of his shirt it was hard not to. His lips slightly parted, his tongue occasionally darting out to wet them. The crows feet beside his eyes crinkle ever so slightly as he narrows them, and the fact that his hands, despite being war worn and capable of such violent acts, were gentle with you. You’ve seen Joel in various stages in 20 years, you’ve seen him miserable and depressed and angry and violent. But you’ve never seen him gentle, or hopeful, and ever since taking this job with him and meeting Ellie. You’ve seen sides of him you thought were long dead. He had this certain look about him when he talked to her, it was softer almost. 

“There you go,” Joel said, you cleared your throat and hoped he hadn’t noticed you staring. You saw him look apprehensive at his handiwork. “It’ll hold until we can leave, once we’re in the clear you can fix it up.” 

You nodded as Joel went from sitting in front of you to tentatively look out the window. Lifting a small piece of newspaper to glance through. 

“Looks like they’re checking out the apartment buildings first.” He observed, “but they’ll be coming through here soon enough.” He walked away as Ellie approached where he was and looked out as well. 

“There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away.” 

“Yeah I saw it.” 

“So we’re heading towards that one then,” Ellie said as she looked away from the window. 

“As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move.” Joel sat down in front of you again, “as fast as we can.” You watched him look over at you, “go rest, I’ll take the first watch and I’ll wake you when it’s time.” 

“Joel,” You began until Ellie stepped in.

“You got your fucking bell run dude,” Ellie said as she slide down the floor, “Sleep.” Despite her hard tone you could see the concern in her eyes, you let out a sigh as you complied. The trucks probably will stop for a brief moment in between shifts which seems like it won’t be for a while. You get off the chair and make a makeshift sleeping area with your sleeping bag and your coat. The ground is hard and cold, but you’ve slept in worse conditions. You do your best to ignore the chill of the floor as you slowly feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the arms of sleep.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

Joel P.O.V

He looked at you while you slept, it didn’t take as long as it usually did, probably because of the head wound. 

A heavy, sickening weight settled deep in his guts the longer he looked at you and the girl who sat next to you. Ellie had saved you, he had been too slow, too old, and too damn deaf. He didn’t hear the other one, it wasn’t until your body had fallen that he heard him. But Joel had been too slow, so the boy got the drop on him, all at once he couldn’t breathe as he was pinned to the ground by his neck. His kicking and struggling did no good to get the boy off of him. Had it not been for the dark haired girl, he probably would’ve died. 

Still though, despite the world being as fucked up as it is, someone at her age should never have had to do that, or hear it. She didn’t kill him, but she might as well have. The man was injured, there was no way he would’ve survived longer than an hour tops, so Joel did what he’s always done, what he had to do. He sent Ellie back through the hole and told her and took her gun. He figured she nabbed it back at Bill and Franks before they left, it was the only time she could’ve gotten her hands on one. Once the small girl was behind the wall he turned to the man, he couldn’t have been older than 20. It wouldn’t be the youngest he’s killed, he watched as the boy tried to barter for his life. Giving him the knife he had on his person, promises that Joel knew deep down he wouldn’t keep, and as Joel raised the barrel of the gun and aimed the boy called out for his mother. Joel shot him before he could plead more. Joel has heard begging before, usually they begged for their lives or to god, but occasionally you would get one that would plead for their mother. Those ones got to him the most, but he couldn’t think about it for too long. 

He remembered putting the gun in his pocket before turning to you. Joel didn’t hesitate before picking you up, you were warm despite laying down on the cold floor. He carried you over to the front door where Ellie was waiting for him. After setting you down inside it wasn’t long until you had woken up. But the minutes in between were silent as Joel stared at you, there was a nagging feeling in his gut. One that was heavy and burdensome, a million thoughts ran through his head. He worried that you would have a concussion when you woke up, he wanted to curse out loud about the supplies those fuck heads costed him, but one things kept coming into mind. The young girl beside you, she looked slightly shaken but nothing beyond that. 

When you woke up, he was expecting you to yell at him for being too slow or too deaf. But he was surprised when you called his name instead, he looked away before you could catch him staring. 

Joel didn’t want to admit what was happening to him, he didn’t want to admit that what Bill wrote in that letter was true. You were family, had been since the outbreak happened, same with Tess. But, he guessed, even Tess knew that wasn’t all. 

Joel tried to busy himself with getting you and Ellie to a safer location, then with mending you up like you’ve done for him many times before. After the initial protesting and some guidance from you, he had patched you up decently enough. Joel would be lying if he said he was completely focused on the wound on your head. He tried to be gentle, not wanting to hurt you further, but he lingered. He had forced himself to look at the wound, but the temptation to look further was gnawing at him. To linger longer than he was, to wipe his thumb over where a droplet of water rested on your lip, to press his forehead against yours and breathe you in. the smell of ivory bar soap and the faint hint of pine and something floral, the same scent that haunted some of his dreams only it was tinged with an unmistakable metallic scent. 

After surveying the area and getting you to sleep, he looked over at the dark haired girl for the first time since the laundry mat. Her eyes were steady and dark as she took a seat next to you. Joel didn’t say it outloud, but Ellie seemed to like you. More than you seemed to know. 

Silence loomed over the both of them until Joel finally broke it. 

“Are you alright?” He knew it was a stupid question, but it was the only thing he could think of. He watches as she turns to him, her eyes unwavering. 

“Yeah,” She responds simply, “you?”

“Yeah,” he responds the same. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to find the right words to say. He shakes his head as he begins to talk. “The thing is I didn’t hear him comin’, and I- just…You shouldn’t have had to…Y’know?” He watches as Ellie crosses her arms over her knees. 

“Well,” She starts, “you’re glad I did, right?” 

She has no idea, Joel thought, he wasn’t glad she did it. She doesn’t understand that she was just a kid. That no kid should have had to do what she did, to shoot a man and hear him beg for his mother. If the world hadn’t gone to shit she would probably be skating in one of those parks, or walking through a mall with friends her own age. Maybe one of those friends would’ve been his grandchild. But it’s no use to think of the way things would’ve been, or should’ve. Because the truth of the matter is that, that world doesn’t exist anymore. It died over the course of a single weekend, and what’s been left was hell. 

“You’re just a kid.” Joel says eyes looking to the ground before landing on her again, “you shouldn’t know what it means to-” he struggles to find the right words, “it’s-it’s not like you killed him…but shootin’...” he huffs in annoyance at his own words, growing a little more frustrated as he continues now wishing he never said anything to begin with, “I know what it’s like-the first time that you hurt…someone like that.” He takes a deep breath, eyes dropping to your sleeping figure. What would you have said? You were better at this stuff, the comforting and all that. He shakes his head as he looks at the girl next to you again. “If you-uh- need to…” he silently curses under his breath, “Doc’s better at this than I am.” 

“I can tell.” 

“What I mean to say is,” Joel said, taking a deep breath, “it was my fault. You shouldn’t have had to do that, and I’m sorry.” Those words hung in the air for a moment, with the expression written on her face Joel would think that Ellie had never heard someone say that before. But soon enough her eyes darted around, looking at anything that wasn’t him as a look he’s all too familiar with graced her features. 

Grief. 

The tears in her eyes didn’t have time to fall before Ellie wiped the sleeves of her jacket over them. She had this far away look, one that Joel hadn’t seen before. 

“It wasn’t my first time.” Ellie spoke, her eyes refusing to look back at Joel. Silence fell between the two as Joel studied her for a moment or two. He wanted to ask, but he watched as she fiddled with the sleeve of her right arm. 

Oh 

He decided then not to ask, not that he doesn’t want to know. But it wasn’t his place, so instead he took the gun he had taken from Ellie out of his back pocket and unloaded it before handing it back to her. 

“Show me your grip.”

TAGLIST:

faith-alons26

burninggracesandbridges

dorck26

issybee0611

lightninginab0ttle

@avengersfan25

@chelsey01

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

Megaman Battle Network Legacy Collection Art Countdown Event!

Hi everyone, I'm back with more! I'm so sorry, I was hoping to get this started a bit earlier, but better late than never.

With the clock ticking down, we are getting ever closer to the release date of the Megaman Battle Network Legacy Collection, which launches on April 14th. And to help celebrate that, while enjoying some memories of the series, we are going to have a little art countdown event.

Read on after the break for the event rundown.

How will this work? 

Well, for starters this is an open signup, welcome to artists of any skill level. The signup will consist of you choosing one single Net Navi, virus, boss or human character from the Battle Network/EXE franchise that you would like to draw. It will be first come, first serve. Once a character has been chosen, nobody else will be able to take them. Cross Fused/Soul Unison/Cross characters will be considered their own unique character to choose from. 

To go along with the character you choose, we will also require a secondary Battle Network-related prompt to include with your character. This could be any battle chip/weapon/attack/Program Advance for a Navi, such as Kawarimi or Hi Cannon. It could be a location, such as MaHa Ichiban or SciLab, that you draw as a background. It can be a reference to an anime episode, such as baseball outfits, Neko virus or swimsuits at the hot springs. Etc., etc. 

Your character and prompt do not have to match something we have seen in the games/anime. So that way, we can have unlimited fun with it! So if you wanted to draw Meijin-san in the Aki idol outfit from the anime, or disco agent outfit Mariko-sensei, that is allowed! Create a Zoano-form for a Navi that never was in Beast or Cross Fuse a pair that never showed up in Stream. This is up to your imagination. I will list a few example prompts, but feel free to come up with your own.

Since I failed and am behind on launching this, I'm not sure if we will be able to post art for a full 30 days before the game's launch on Friday, April 14th. We can still try, if we have some fast artists and enough people join in. But the goal will be to have the first pieces submitted and ready to post 21 days before (March 24th), giving us 3 weeks of content counting down until the game's release date.

Between @tentokki​ and myself, we are going to try to keep a public spreadsheet of what has been taken updated and as current as possible as people sign up. This first day or so might be a little messy as we try to see who called who first and get everything initially set up, so try to have a backup option or two ready. While I am opening this up tonight, I might not be able to get back to everyone to update this list until tomorrow afternoon, as a disclaimer. Appreciate your patience! Please try to watch through the replies to ensure someone hasn't already called out your choice first. Once you have gotten the OK in a reply back and are added to the list, you are on the clock to begin working on your art.

There will not be a hard deadline for everyone to start out, but we will need at least one person done and ready before March 24th. Please choose a realistic deadline for yourself between March 23rd-April 14th, so that we can assign you to post on that specific day.

TLDR; When signing up, we need: 1.) A character 2.) A BN related-prompt included in your art 3.) Your own chosen deadline date between 3/24 - 4/14/2023

(View confirmed sign ups on this spreadsheet)

When you are finished, please send your art to me via DM or email [rock2125(at)hotmail(dot)com], and we will make sure you are set up a day for you to post your art. Then, when we hit that March 24th date, we will begin the countdown by having artists post their pic to their Twitter/tumblr, asking you to use the hashtag #MMBNLCCountdown in your post, along with stating the number of days remaining until the collection's release. 

If we get enough participants, then some days we might have more than 1 piece of art posted. Sky and I will then be reblogging/retweeting your posts each day, so that the focus is on your account and art. We'll continue counting down with new art each day until we reach the game's release.

What's in it for you? 

Well, besides hopefully having fun and reminscing a bit, I will also once again hold a prize/prize money raffle to give away copies of the game (standard version) for those who complete a pic. But once again, like the Valentine's Event, you will only be eligible for this raffle if you sign up, submit your art to me, and complete your art in time.

Already preordered it? Well, I'll instead offer you the cash to cover what you paid, if your name is drawn. As always, please have a valid Paypal account to receive your winnings. Total amount of prize winners not set in stone, but likely at least 6.

How to sign up! Sorry if I was not totally clear when I first posted this yesterday in my haste to get it online, but please either comment on this post, the Twitter post, or send a DM with your choices to sign up. Once again, please check the spreadsheet to see what has been taken already. The spreadsheet linked above is publicly viewable, but you are not editing or signing up on there. That is just for everyone’s reference as I officially confirm each sign up.

We will begin to assign people days to post as we get closer to the March 24th date. If you finish early, before your estimated deadline, still send it in via DM/email to me. The more people are done before March 24th, the easier it will be to organize and set up people to post on specific countdown days between  3/24-4/14.

As always, any questions, feel free to ask! First time trying this format, so we'll see how it works out!

Example Prompts (feel free to use one of these or your own!):

Devil Chip  Idol Outfit  Ghosts!  Pink Squirrel  Neko Virus Summa DIS Whiskey  Astronaut Suit  Hot Springs Disco Outfit  Baseball Uniform Buttferfly Net Car Race Star Potter Red Carpet  Copyroid  Curry Humor Program Zoo animals  Plunger on the head  Froggy trash can  Oven on fire!  Throwing your PET Jack in! Beast out!

Cannon Wide Shot Variable Sword Recovery Kawarimi Guardian Super Vulcan Dream Aura Muramasa Blade PoisonAnubis Z-Saber GunDelSol DarkSound CornShot MiniBomb Boomerang NumberBall PitHockey HyperBurst DreamSword

[vcrfromheck]

Hep Cat Headaches: A Collector’s Story, Part 3

Nearly ten years ago, I began this Tumblr as a reevaluation of the public domain based tapes in my VHS archives. This brought with it a lot of nostalgia and discovery, but more importantly, a chance to complete a collection: The United American Video / Hep Cat / Kid Video series. Several years ago, I hit a snag when I was unable to successfully secure (on ebay, thrift stores, or elsewhere) the 3rd and 26th tapes in what had turned out to be a 29-tape set (the actual first tape--basically labelled #0--being a Mickey Mouse volume, which I amazingly discovered at a nearby thrift store). Those shortcomings, a busy life, and a divorce, shifted a lot of my attention away from this Tumblr page. Nonetheless, I never stopped looking. Around two years ago, I finally found Tape 3 (Mighty Mouse), but still had only ever seen the 26th tape--a.k.a. Porky Pig Vol. 3--one time, during a long-ago auction I failed to win for merely not realizing I wasn’t signed into Ebay properly while attempting a last-second bid.

That all changed two days ago when, during a once-in-a-blue-moon Ebay VHS search, it showed up as a Buy It Now auction (along with Vol. 1 and 2). Enthused, I snapped it up, then re-purchased a couple of volumes I’d only had “Walmart $1.00″ versions of, finally completing a collection that had started during the long-gone days of Woolworth’s, McCrory’s, Ames, and Kay-Bee.

Closure at last! But the story doesn’t end there.... Remember those Canadian versions with unique artwork that I’d found a few volumes for? Here’s what I learned from reading an entry on the PD Video Wiki: “Embury Communications was founded in 1988, and released 30-minute compilations of classic cartoons, never releasing any feature-length films. Embury's tapes were sold in stores, but could also be purchased at a discounted price through their Kid Video Club. All Embury tapes contained a membership card which could be mailed in to join the club. The Kid Video series contained at least 32 tapes, followed by a 6-hour compilation which used only the Embury brand. In the United States, Embury's tapes were released by Hep Cat Entertainment, later a division of United American Video. The Hep Cat tapes were numbered in a different order, and at least three Embury tapes were never made available by Hep Cat.” Of these 32 tapes (or at least 20) that are said to exist, I have found images of twelve, most of which have the same artwork as the U.S. counterparts, but some of which have unique art. Of the unique Canadian covers, I have four (Elmer Fudd Vol. 1, Jack Frost, Tubby the Tuba, and a Bugs Bunny one I just found), and have seen at least one other (an Elmer Fudd Vol. 2 one that I can’t buy because the site auctioning it off only ships to Canada). I also found the cover for the six-hour Embury tape (which is not part of the regular series), which suggests that a unique Porky Pig cover also exists.

Does this mean I’m going to pursue every Canadian version, or Canadian-unique cover? Not necessarily, but if I stumble upon one every once in a while, it would be nice. After all, my focus was on the American U.A.V. tapes, which were the real goal, no matter what. (It’s worth mentioning that the Canadian Embury art seems to have only spilled over into the first 20 U.S. tapes, with the last 9 U.S. tapes being different artwork that has, from what I can tell, never appeared on a cassette in Canada.)

There is also the Australian(?) nine-tape series from South Pacific Video, which appears to be ripping off seven of the original covers, while adding two serviceable (but lesser quality) illustrations of their own (Bugs Bunny and Casper). I have only found pics for one of these tapes (Porky Pig), but the back cover shows the (likely) rest of the series. Because of that, I don’t think I’ll be losing sleep over not having the South Pacific ones in my possession.

In the end, despite these Canadian and Australian variations, I have finally finished my real search, which was to get all of the U.S. “Hep Cat” titles, which I believe I finally have. Anything else from there will just be icing on the cake, though I’d love to at least see all the Canadian Embury boxes, and welcome any unique covers that trickle their way into my possession. Thanks for taking this journey with me! It has renewed my interest in these tapes (though not necessarily in purchasing more of them), and I hope to share individual cover scans from the Hep Cat series (and beyond) in the near future.

[chrisodonline]

I managed to say awake! And of course now I can’t sleep! So here are some interview highlights:

Stephen asks COD why there are still naval crimes and how haven’t they solved them all.

Stephen also asked, “Why hasn’t LL Cool J aged a day?” Chris said, “He’s animatronic.” And admitted that might be true based on LL’s work schedule.

Stephen gave a shout out to the show hitting 300 multiple times and said, “Those are GUNSMOKE numbers.

Stephen showed a pic from SCENT OF A WOMAN, celebrating its 30-year anniversary. Chris admitted that Al Pacino had him so nervous (which was encouraged by Martin Brest, the director, to keep Chris on edge for the character) that he would roller blade up and down the streets of NYC in the middle of the night in the dead of winter during filming just to calm himself down so he could sleep. (DO YOU SEE WHY I LOVE THIS MAN?)

Chris also mentioned that his oldest son (Chip) looks exactly like him SCENT OF A WOMAN (sans bowl cut). Apparently Chip was also finally going to get a part on the show but it fell through when someone got COVID. (As COD’s clone, he’s going to be hard to blend in, so it’ll be interesting. He was going to be on earlier but it was a bigger role and required an audition, and he didn’t get it. Based on when Chris first talked about it, my guess has always been that it was “Rage” which was a more involved part.)

Chris talked about his modeling days as a kid and even showed off his, “I can run in place” and “I can whisper in your ear while still talking.” And all the ads he did: from Captain Crunch to McDonald’s. (Yes, he posed.)

He talked more about the family in the show and told the story of his wife and her friends getting a little too tipsy while he was directing, and he had to ask them to just act scared when a gun goes off so he didn’t get fired.

He talked about COME DANCE WITH ME, nothing new, how it developed and what’s fun and funny about the show -- notably parents who aren’t dancers trying to do it and then having to have a dance off at the end of the show.

Stephen brought up when he did the Kennedy Center Honors to honor Al Pacino. Chris said that he could relate to the parents on the show because that was the “most embarrassing” thing for him, which surprised Stephen. Chris said that he was invited to introduce Al and he was so honored and excited -- and then they said, “Hey, we were thinking about re-enacting the tango scene.” And Chris was all, “Oh, that sounds great you should do that.” And then they said they wanted HIM to do it, and he very, very much didn’t. He ended up agreeing and being talked into it to honor Al.

Stephen insisted he did a great job, “You tango’ed your heart out!”

Chris then talked about he was genuinely SO nervous he told his wife he needed to see a doctor because he thought he was going to have a nervous breakdown. But it all worked out okay, and “I didn’t drop Gabrielle Anwar.”

So, yes, fun fun interview. Stephen’s always so engaging and wonderful.

[xoxo-teddybear]

Hey! I saw that you have fics based on Victorious and those are my absolute favorites. Im not sure if you aren taking requests but I like the idea of the episode where Jade goes to Tori for help with getting Beck back. What if Bakugou was Jade and he has to get help from the one person he never thought he would go to.... that damn nerd, Deku.

I love your Bakugou fics! I have read them all and some multiple times. You write him so perfectly!

You know what?….I like this idea. So ima do it. I KNOW REQUESTS ARE CLOSED but some of y’all just be hitting the target PERFECTLY

Love Me Again…Please? - Bakugou Katsuki - Victorious Inspired

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, crack, angst, cursing, crying

Summary: read request

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

You were sitting by yourself at lunch waiting for your friends and boyfriend to arrive. You got there a little early and decided to just wait on your phone until Kaminari arrived.

“Hey, what’s up Y/N!” He said as his perky usual self. You giggled before putting down your device to give him a greeting.

“Hey Kami- WOAH!”

Just before you could finish your sentence, Mina came rushing to your table and slammed into you as she took the seat to your left. She was smiling and bursting with excitement and curiosity as she asked: “WHAT IS THIS?”

You looked at the picture she was showing you on her phone and scoffed with a laugh. “Oh, that.”

“Oh?! That’s you and Kotaro Bokuto! Together!” She squealed as she showed you the picture of you and your friend. Denki’s face grew in shock before he took the phone out of Mina’s hand to see the pic.

“No way…..THAT’S Y/N AND KOTARO BOKUTO! TOGETHER!” Kaminari exclaimed in shock.

“Why’re you guys so impressed?” You asked as you took a sip of water.

“‘Cuz Kotaro Bokuto is Famous!” Mina said.

“And hot!” Denki added.

“His dad is also a billionaire.”

“And hot!” You and Mina both looked to Denki with a confused face as he stuttered out what he really meant. “I- I meant Bokuto.”

Mina sighed before taking the phone out of Denki’s hand to show it to you once more. “Explain this!”

“We go to the same gym when I train outside of UA. Some paparazzi saw us together and took that pic but we’re just friends!” You cleared before going back to your food.

“Uh-huh..and how does Bakugou feel about you being just friends with Kotaro Bokuto.” Mina smirked.

“Pfft, Katsuki was cool with it.” You said nonchalantly as you poked at your food and looked out the window. Your friends slanted their eyes at you until you gave in. “….he threw a rock at me.”

“Yeah, well I’d be careful. ‘Cuz I don’t think Bakugou is the type to be okay with you being friends with someone like Bokuto.” Mina warned. You took her words into consideration but you trusted that your Suki knew you better than that.

—

Wow. Guess you were wrong. Because Bakugou was following you down the stairs in the dorms as you peacefully tried to walk to the common rooms to see your friends. It was the morning of a Friday and you just wanted a calm day at school before you went to visit your parents at home tomorrow but of course your boyfriend had other plans.

“Hey! We’re not done talking about this,” you’re boyfriend said from behind you. You deeply sighed as you kept walking.

“I am!”

“Well I’m not.” He replied. You stopped walking as you neared the common area and turned to face him.

“Listen. Kotaro Bokuto is just a friend.” You said calmly to ensure his anger wouldn’t surface.

“Yeah. A friend who’s texted you 6 times in the past 30 minutes.” As you opened your mouth to reply, your phone went ding! to notify you of a new message. “Seven.”

“..you don’t know that’s him,” you said with a scoff and silly face.

“Is it?” He seethed through shut teeth and a blank face. You pulled out your phone to check and when you saw he was right, you quickly changed the subject.

“….What’s your favorite tropical fruit?” You asked. Bakugou rolled his eyes before answering you.

“The mango and I don’t like your new little relationship with Kotaro Bokuto.” He quickly said.

“It’s a text message,” you said waving your phone in the air before walking closer to the common rooms before he stopped you again.

“And what does it say?” He said extravagantly. “Maybe, ‘Hey Y/N! I just got richer and my face got prettier, let’s make out!’”

“Okay, let me see if I understand you,” you said walking towards your tall Pomeranian.

“Let’s see if you do.” He said with crossed arms. He towered over you but that didn’t stop your small frame from standing up to him. It didn’t matter if you looked like an elf staring up at a giant, you were gonna stand your ground.

You sighed before speaking. “Because I’m dating you, and I have been for the past 4 years now ever since junior fucking high, I can’t be friends with other guys?”

“You can be friends with ugly guys,” he smiled. You rolled your eyes at him before he continued speaking as he grabbed your arm. “But not rich, buff body, socialite athletes that are attractive and text you a hundred times a day!”

“You think Bokuto is attractive?” You snickered.

“I said he was attractive. I never said I was attracted to him. I know a good looking guy when I see one, I see myself in the mirror every morning.” He said matter of factly.

‘Cocky bastard…he’s not wrong,’ you thought to yourself as you admired your handsome boyfriend. You shook your head to stop yourself from silently praising him and got yourself back in the game. “You know what- you-..”

Before you began, you noticed Midoriya walking down the stairs and decided to get his opinion so you called him over. “Hey! Midoriya! Can you come here, please.”

Midoriya looked at the two of you and felt the tense atmosphere. He saw how pissed Bakugou looked and hesitated but still followed your directions nonetheless. “Whaaattt,” he asked hesitantly.

“If you were my boyfriend-“

“Oh! Great way to start the question,” Bakugou intervened. You placed a hand on his arm to settle him before retracting it and speaking again.

“Would you be all freaked out that I’m just friends with Kotaro Bokuto?” You asked, expecting your green haired friend to agree with you.

“Who cares what he thinks?!” Bakugou said.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t love it.” Midoriya replied to you.

“I care what he thinks!” Bakugou said and walked to stand next to Deku and face you. You laughed to yourself in disbelief as you continued the conversation.

“How can you say that? You don’t even-“

“You know, I really should find Todoroki and-“

“Nope, you stay right here!” Bakugou said, pulling him back to his place as Midoriya protested.

“You don’t think think that a boyfriend should trust his girlfriend especially when they’ve been together for so long?” You asked the freckled face as you looked at your boyfriend.

“No! I- I do!” He agreed with you.

“Get out of here, Deku.” Bakugou said.

“I’d love to,” Midoriya said and began to walk away before you called for him.

“Stay.” You demanded. He reluctantly walked back but Bakugou had another thing to say.

“Alright, you know what?” He asked.

“Tell me what.” You demanded with crossed arms.

“No! No, don’t tell her what!” Deku said, trying to stop Bakugou from making the situation worse.

“We’re done.” Bakugou said, gesturing between the two of you.

“Kacchan!” Deku exclaimed, shocked his childhood friend could do this to you. Meanwhile you laughed to yourself before you spoke.

“You’re breaking up with me?” You said with a chuckle.

“No, no, no, no, no, no he’s not.” Midoriya said, standing frozen and nervous.

“Yeah, I am.” Bakugou said and began walking away to his dorm room. You turned to him as he walked and shouted.

“You’re being ridiculous!” You called out. He turned to you as he kept walking to his room and spoke.

“What do you care?! I’m not your boyfriend anymore!” He said and walked away. You grunted in frustration before heading to your own dorm. Meanwhile, you both left a very shocked and frozen Izuku standing at the bottom of a staircase.

—

Students were now walking to school and this time, Bakugou was walking alone. Usually, nobody liked to bother the blonde when he would get pissed but that was before they all grew on him. Now the only time they avoid the blonde is when he’s had a bad fight with you. Like now.

Bakugou just arrived at the gateway when 3 randoms tried to stand near him at the same side. All he had to do was give them a glare and a stern ‘no,’ before they scurried off to go somewhere else. Seeing the mess was Kirishima and Kaminari. Now Kaminari knew better than to bother the blonde but the red head being the ash blonde’s best friend decided to heck with it.

Kirishima nudged his head to Bakugou as he looked at Kaminari. The electric blonde knew what his friend was trying to do and immediately shook his head ‘no,’ to try and get out of hanging with the angry gremlin. Kaminari tried to run away but Kirishima caught his arm and dragged him to Bakugou before they both began to speak to him.

“Hey man!” Kirishima said happily.

“Hey, Bakugou,” Kaminari said slightly less enthusiastic but still with a smile.

“You look like you could use some buddies,” Kirishima said before he took a sip of water. Bakugou only grunted as he continued to poke at the ground with his foot. “Look, I just thought you would be mad and kinda upset at what happened with Y/-“

“I broke up with Y/N. Okay? I dumped her.” Bakugou said, trying to make a point that he wasn’t sad when his head and heart knew damn well otherwise. As they all began to quiet down again, the trio noticed an expensive car pull up to UA’s entrance, grabbing a lot of students’ attention.

“Woah!” Kaminari exclaimed. Everyone looked to the car and Bakugou was quick to notice your beautiful face in the passenger seat. He quietly whimpered at the sight of you with none other than Bokuto himself, who was apparently dropping you off at school now.

“Is that Kotaro Bokuto?!” Kirishima said, starstruck at the athletic teen celeb.

“Yeah! So?!” Bakugou asked his best friend with a mean face. Kirishima hesitated before speaking again and forced himself to calm down.

“Nothing!” He cooed out. “He’s gross! Hehe…protein bar?” He asked, handing the blonde a snack that he was reluctant to take.

“Gross??” Kaminari asked. “Look at him! Oh man! That guy is smoking hot! I’m serious!” Kaminari laughed before Bakugou turned to him with a glare. “I-…I should shut up.”

“Look, Bakugou, he didn’t mean it like-“

“I don’t care!” Bakugou shouted. “If Y/N wants to date that then I hope she has tons of fucking fun with it!” He said as he squeezed the snack that Kirishima gave to him.

“Umm…”

“What?!”

“..you’re hurting your protein bar.” Kirishima said. Bakugou looked down at his hand before tossing the food to the floor and storming off into the school building.

—

It was the end of the day around 10:00 at night. Deku was sleeping when he was awoken by thunderous knocks repeatedly hitting his dorm room door. He yawned and stretched as he walked to the entrance and opened the door to reveal a teary-eyed Bakugou holding a kite. “Kacchan?”

The blonde ignored the green haired boy and walked in uninvited, leaving Deku at the door. “And, now you’re in my dorm.”

He shut the door and turned to face the distressed blonde that was now in his room. He walked to his childhood friend with a confused look, causing the blonde to speak. “This kite is broken.”

“Uh, okay? And?” Izuku said, thoroughly confused.

“I was just walking around the damn park and- and I saw this stupid kite stuck in a bush- and- and it’s broken and just- fucking- somebody needs to fix it!” Bakugou shouted with a broken voice as tears flowed down his face. Izuku got the idea that the blonde actually meant that he was broken and somebody needs to fix him. Playing along with the game, Izuku spoke up again.

“…You want me to fix your kite?” He asked. Bakugou threw the toy to the ground as he snapped at the teenager in front of him.

“Will you forget about the fucking kite?!” He screamed at Deku.

“I’m..sorry I brought it up?” He replied. Bakugou began crying and sobbing as he threw his head back to try and stop his tears.

“I want Y/N back!” He sobbed. Deku nodded as he figured that was the problem and allowed the explosive boy to cry in his dorm.

“But you broke up with Y/N.” Izuku reminded him.

“I know! Just like when I was 7 and I threw away my All Might plushy but then I realized I fucking wanted it back! But it was too damn late because my mom already gave it away to some greedy orphans!” Bakugou vented as he took a seat on Deku’s bed. Deku tilted his head in confusion as he was still dazed from slumber before going towards the sad boy.

“Kacchan, if you want to get Y/N back then why don’t you tell her that?” He asked.

“I fucking did but she rejected me!” Bakugou cried out as he kept his head in his hands.

“Um- not to be mean but, why’re you coming to me for help?” The green haired boy asked. Bakugou finally looked up to him with red eyes that were filled with water as he spoke.

“Because I don’t want anyone who’s cool to see me like this!” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Deku sighed before finally giving in to help him.

“Okay, maybe you should- wait are we friend- we’re not even friends!” Deku cried out in realization. Bakugou continued crying trying to get some help.

“Well yeah! But maybe if you fucking help me then maybe I’ll like you!” The blonde sobbed. Deku walked over to sit on the edge of his bed next to the crying teen.

“So, if I help you I get a mean friend and a broken kite?” He asked. Bakugou lifted his face from crying before reaching behind him to grab one of Deku’s pillows.

“Listen! Just fucking talk to Y/N for me! Okay?!” Bakugou asked as he slammed his face into the pillow and sobbed into it, biting at it with his sharp teeth. Deku looked around for no help as Bakugou kept crying and after a minute he gave in and hesitantly began to pet the blonde’s head awkwardly.

“…Okay….Okay! Okay, I’ll talk to Y/N!” Deku said. Bakugou kept his face in the now damaged pillow as he spoke.

“Do it soon,” he said in a muffled and sad tone. Deku sighed at the rude but familiar behavior. Bakugou then lifted his red face from the pillow and looked down at it in guilt before giving it back to Deku. “…I- *sniff*…I kinda ripped your pillow.”

Deku nodded as he took the pillow and held onto it. “It’s okay…I’ll just..asked my grandmother to make me a new one.” Bakugou looked at him in relief and nodded before the green haired boy continued. “….if she ever comes back to life.”

—

You were currently sitting at your desk finishing up some easy homework as you played gentle music in the background. You were wearing a silk sleeping set when a knock was heard at your door. You stood and calmly danced your way over to the entrance. You opened the door and was confused to find a standing Deku. You smiled nonetheless before standing to the side to let him in. “Enter.”

“Thanks,” he laughed as he walked into your dorm. You shut the door before turning to face him. You noticed he was looking around you room, listening to the music, and looking at all your graphic designs and urban styled room. “You got a cool room Y/N! Do you like staying at the dorms?”

“Heh, definitely,” you said walking over to your desk seat again. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed yet but I’m not exactly a pretty pink and perfect princess. I love my parents and all but they always told me that if I lived under their roof then I gotta live by their rules.”

“Ahh, so your roof?”

“My rules.” You said, bringing out a laugh from him and yourself. “Sooo…?”

“So! You’re probably wondering why I’m here! Probably thinking ‘Hey, Midoriya’s here. I wonder why?’” He said, imitating your voice.

“That’s how I talk?” You laughed as you took a sip of water.

“No, that’s just my generic girl voice.” Izuku laughed. You nodded your head at the answer before closing your bottle.

“Ah! I like it, do more.” You said with a giggle.

“Okay! Ummm..’Oh my gosh! Girl! You should like, totally get back together with Kacchan!’” He said with a high pitch. You squinted your eyes in confusion and titled your head as you sat up a little straighter in your chair.

“I should get back together with Bakugou?” You asked.

“Uh-huh,” Deku nodded sincerely.

“Why?” You questioned.

“‘Cuz! …He’s…you know…awesome..?” Izuku said as he struggled to get the whole sentence out. You placed your bottle down on your desk before standing up and walking towards the green haired boy.

“Guess what!” You said.

“What?” Izuku asked in a worried tone.

“I’m glad me and Bakugou broke up.” You said with an honest tone.

“Why?” Izuku asked, genuinely confused. He thought you two were a great couple. He’s known the blonde bomb for years and you’ve always brought out the best in him. Made him a better person. He was always happier around you.

“Because, I can’t remember the last time he wasn’t mad at me and did something genuinely nice for me. Not him trying to be romantic or trying to swoon me, just..him being nice. And recently, he hasn’t.” You explained.

“Oh- come on! Didn’t you just have a birthday?” Izuku asked. “He didn’t get you anything for your birthday?”

“Yeah, Bakugou doesn’t really see the point in birthdays. And so..” you said and stepped closer to Deku. “He got me a can..of lemonade.”

—

“‘Cuz she likes lemonade!” Bakugou said in defense when Deku went to him and told him about the conversation.

“Yeah but out of a can??” Deku asked as he stood by his locker.

“She drank it!” Bakugou exclaimed causing Deku to roll his eyes.

“Yeah but-“

“Do I have a girlfriend or don’t I?” Bakugou asked. That’s when some random extra came up to his side and looked at him with glee.

“Do you want one?” She asked happily.

“Walk away.” He demanded with evil eyes that sent her scurrying. Izuku gave a deep sigh before walking towards a vending machine with Bakugou following. “You damn nerd! Would you just help me?! Fucking..please?!”

“I tried!” Izuku said. “Maybe you just need to move on from Y/N.”

Bakugou looked at him in shock as his mouth opened and closed multiple times as his lips quivered. In a rush, Bakugou grabbed Deku by the collar and pulled him into a janitor’s closet before turning on the light.

“And now we’re in a closet.” Izuku said in the corner with a tired tone. That’s when Bakugou turned to Izuku again full on crying.

“How could Y/N not want me back?! After everything we’ve been through??” He sobbed. “And what about me? I’m so cool! And fucking hot! I’ve got it all!”

“Yeah but girls don’t just care about how cool and hot you are.” Izuku said getting closer to the sobbing beast.

“Yeah well what else is there?!” Bakugou asked with heavy tears.

“Y/N said you hadn’t done 1 nice thing for her in the past few months. Maybe a year!” He said.

“That’s not true!” Bakugou cried. “I do things for her all the time!”

“But just to be nice? Not because you wanted it to be a romantic gesture to show your love for her or getting her to do something for you. Just being nice.” Deku added on. “Maybe she’d take you back if you did something nice for her.”

“…You mean like make her fresh lemonade?” Bakugou asked with a cracked voice causing Izuku’s head to begin aching.

“If you want Y/N back, you’re gonna have to think bigger than beverages.” Izuku said.

“A dog!” Bakugou stated and pointed at the green haired boy.

“Okay! If you’re gonna be rude-“

“No! No, Y/N’s always talking about how she wants a dog. Uh- uh- A rotten-hymer!” Bakugou said with an imaginary dog breed.

“A Rottweiler?” Izuku corrected with sarcasm.

“Yes! That’s what she wants. Okay, what’s our next move?” Bakugou asked as he began to think. That’s when the two heard an unfamiliar voice speak up.

“Just get the girl a dog!” A grumpy man said in the corner of the closet. He seemed to be napping, as he had a blanket, before the two teens came in. Noticing the strange man, Izuku stiffly looked at Bakugou to tell him to..

“Go..go! Go! Go! Out! Yeah, run!” The two said in unison as they hurried out the closet, allowing the man to sleep once more.

—

It was now a Friday night and you had gone home to your parents house to spend the weekend with them. The boys had snuck into your backyard where your room window was located, which Bakugou was currently peeking in to check for you. The two had brought over the big dog and planned to let it into your room with a bow on a collar and a tag that stated the big furry friend was from Bakugou.

“Okay. Y/N’s asleep.” The blonde said to the green haired boy who was currently holding onto the canine.

“Alright, oh! Hold on, he has a runny nose.” Izuku said, reaching for a tissue in his back pocket.

“What? That’s ridiculous, dogs can’t blow their noses you idiot.” Bakugou said as he looked down at Izuku who held the white clothe to the wet nose.

“Blow~” he cooed in a baby voice while the dog did as instructed. Izuku merely looked up to Bakugou with a smug look as the blonde rolled his eyes.

“Okay, whatever. Give me the dog.” Bakugou insisted as he took hold of the collar and opened your window to assist the dog in getting into your dark room. Bakugou shut the window and turned to the green haired boy with a sigh. “Alright, if this makes Y/N love me again, I’m gonna owe you big time”

“You already owe me big time.” Deku mentioned. All of a sudden, vicious barking could be heard and a girlish scream went on. The two snapped their heads towards the window with wide eyes as they realized the dog was going crazy in the room. “W-What’s going on?”

“I- I don’t know!” Bakugou replied. The screaming and harsh barking continued as the boys saw the light in the room turn on behind Y/N’s thin curtains. They saw a woman’s silhouette running around the room in a frantic manner and freaked out.

“Y/N?..Y/N! Y/N! ARE YOU OKAY?! HEY!” Bakugou screamed from the other side of the window trying to reach you.

“Does she sound okay?!” Izuku cried with sarcasm again. The two continued to try and see what was going on but the two boys shouted in fear when they saw a body pressed up the window with a scared hand slapped against the glass.

“OH SHIT!” The two screamed.

“This is fucking hell!” Bakugou screamed.

“I know!”

“Now Y/N’s never gonna take me back!”

Izuku looked at the blonde with a look of disbelief. “THAT IS NOT THE KEY ISSUE RIGHT NOW!”

The two began to scream at each other and scream in shock at the wails of a women from inside your room until you came running to the two of them. “What is going on in there?!”

“AHH!” Izuku screamed in shock of you being out there with them instead of inside your room.

“Y/N?!?!” Bakugou screamed in the same manner and reason.

“How can you be out here?!” Izuku asked.

“You’re in there being mauled by the dog!” Bakugou said as he pointed to your room.

“DOG?! I snuck out to take a walk! My mom’s in there!” You shouted.

“YOUR MOM?!”

“Oh my god!”

Now the three of you were trying to make sense of the commotion while you had the common sense to open the window, only to jump back and shut the glass at the sight of the large animal. “Mom! Mom! Fuck! That’s a big dog!”

—

Eventually, you all finally got the dog away and got your mom out before calling the ambulance to come and check on her due to all her wounds and scratches. She was placed on the gurney and put into the ambulance as you waved to her from outside. “I’ll come check up on you at the hospital in the morning.”

“Okay,” your mother croaked out in pain. The boys said their apologies alongside you and your mom merely ignored them as she groaned in pain. You watched as the medics shut the door and a young man approached the three of you.

“Umm, she’ll be okay but she has some pretty nasty injuries. Other than that, she’ll be fine.” The man said as he approached you.

“Thanks.” You replied with a sweet smile. He smiled back and walked up to you as he gently placed a hand on your arm.

“Hey..are you in college yet?” Hearing his words, Bakugou perked up and territorially pulled you into his chest with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“BYE!” He shouted at the medic as the young man took a hint and got into the ambulance. Seeing the ambulance drive off, you shook your head before walking away from the two and out of Bakugou’s arms. The two boys watched you go in silence before Bakugou spoke up. “..Deku told me to get you a dog!”

“Dude!” Izuku said in defense.

You turned to face Bakugou as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Okay, it was kind of my idea but I didn’t think that the dog was gonna bug out like that. I just wanted you to have a dog because I know you’ve talked about getting one ever since I met you and I thought that maybe-“

Before he could continue you reached up to leave a hot and passionate kiss on his lips. A kiss he happily leaned in to. You pulled back only inches away and smiled at the blonde as he smiled back down at you before speaking. “You love me again.”

“Who ever said I stopped?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Awwww,” Izuku cooed from behind the both of you as he watched his two childhood friend make up. You both turned to him slowly with weird faces as Izuku got the hint. “Oh..sorry.”

“No..it’s cool. And, I really do owe you.” Bakugou said with a small smile to show appreciation for what the green haired boy did. With that, he turned back around to face you and pull you in for a hot make out session that you gave in to. Katsuki’s hand wrapped around your waist as his other held the side of your face while his tongue danced with your own. Izuku continued to stand off on the side awkwardly and uncomfortably due to being so close to the love fest. After about 30 seconds, Izuku leaned over to speak.

“Um, it’s getting kind of late Kacchan and you sort of drove us over here so I was maybe wondering if you could take me back to the dorms?” Deku asked. Bakugou pulled away from your lips in annoyance to reply.

“It’s not that far a walk.” Was all he said before he returned to your lips and this time added a lil spice by gripping your ass. Deku huffed before turning to begin his long walk back.

“Try not to swallow each other!” He said in annoyance to the revived couple that were still kissing as he walked away.

A/N: YALL IM STILL ALIVE! I’m sorry this is so late but with school, my home life, and as some of you may know I do play volleyball seriously and it is Fall so I’ve been putting in the WORK. I barely have time to write but I’m still here little by little adding into my pieces of work.

Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this piece and to the person who requested it I’m sorry it took so long!

Taglist: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @isolight @lanantoine @whatdidshesayyy @qtsuki @lazyafgurl @dessykcm @misssugarless @sweethcnvy @hanamura-manami @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @ssurewhynottt @uchihackerman @animexholic

[sageworld]

When we have cyber sex; JJ Maybank (& John B?)

A/N; if i make a part two john b will be more involved but i needed to add him now in case I do

Warnings; Smut, mentions of explicit photos, toxic masculinity, chubby reader, overall how most high school boys are to chubby girls

Part 2; Here

Most people on OBX had what society would call the perfect body. Flat stomachs for the girls & toned ones for the guys. It was never easy being chubby while living on the banks but you had to manage.

You were laying in your bed on a Wednesday after school, scrolling through tiktok when you get a snapchat notification.

Welcome2thegunshow has added you by quick add !

‘JJ’ Read the screen name, the bitmoji matching the Maybank boy in your head. ‘What could he possible want?’ You though before hitting the add button.

It didn’t take but 15 seconds for the next notification. ‘JJ is typing…’

JJ; Hey

Me; Hi?

JJ; wyd

JJ; whats with the ?

Me; not much just wondering what you want

JJ; oh are u alone rn?

Me; yeah why?

JJ;Just wonderin (;

& It sent from there, you & JJ had been texting for 5 hours straight. Sure there were some gaps where either one of you would stop talking but for the most part, it was more you had ever spoken to him in your whole life.

JJ; what’re you wearing rn?

Me; My pajamas? it’s almost 11:30 on a Wednesday 😭😂

JJ; Okay smartass 😂 can i see them?

You hesitate, looking down at your outfit of a hoodie & sweat pants.

Me; Yeah one second I have to let my dog out 🙄

JJ; hurry back baby

You shot off your bed & into a pair of shorts topped with a crop top

You sat up on your bed taking a picture, it mostly pointing at your cleavage. Getting frustrated as the pictures aren’t coming out how you want them you can’t help but groan as you get a new notification.

JJ; You done yet?

Me; oh yeah sorry 😭 i went on roblox for a second LOLOL

JJ; well hurry up, i wanna see those pjs😌

You pull your shirt up, put the phone of hands free & hit send after applying a filter.

*JJ took a screenshot !* read after the ping.

Me;not the screenshots 😭

JJ; 😍

JJ; I’m not gonna show anyone i promise, it’s just for me

JJ; can i see what’s under those pjs baby, please

Me; idk it’s kinda late

JJ; just real quick

JJ; it’ll be our secret, okay?

Me; i guess

JJ; good girl now let me see

You sit on your knees, reaching behind you to take a ass pic, your lilac purple panties making an appearance. Your surprised by how nicely the photo turns out & don’t hesitate to save it & hit send.

*JJ took a screenshot !*

JJ; fuck i’m so hard rn

JJ; gawd damn i knew you were thick but fuck

Me; haha thx

JJ; tits?

Even though you’re not in the mood, you sit up, pulling down the strings of your top. There’s a feeling of pride in knowing JJ Maybank is attracted to you, even if it’s now how you want it to be.

*New video from JJ !*

You click on the video to see JJ pulling himself out of his gray boxers, wiggling around his hard length.

The two of you go back & fourth like this for a little longer until JJ sends you the final video of him nutting & you send him one last video of you playing with yourself, faking it.

JJ; fuck ur so hot

JJ; i’ll see u at school tmrw but this is just between us alright ?

Me; yeah ofc

Me; gn

*Seen 8 minutes ago*

While clean yourself off, JJ is attempting to too but from John Bs spare bed.

“Dude what the fuck?” John B says, walking in oh JJ still exposed, out of breath & sweaty. “Shit sorry man, but you know how it is sometimes.” He pulls his shorts back up quickly.

“Dude why the fuck are you so sweaty? Was whatever you were beating it to that good?” John B laughs, snatching up JJs phone making him jump off the bed.

“Give it back dude!” Exclaims JJ as John B runs with it, opening it easily as there’s no password. He stops when the first thing he sees is s picture of Y/n, smiling into the camera, tits out. He swipes again & sees a pussy of which he can only presume if yours.

“Dude, you’re macing Y/n?” John B let’s out a laugh. “I’m not macing her alright, she’s just got some nice body parts.” JJ snatches the phone back before swiping again, revealing a video of your ass, jiggling as you put your hands under it to shake it a bit.

“Alright I’ll admit, she’s pretty nice.” John B daps up JJ. “Are you gonna fuck her?” “Shit who knows, just hopefully she doesn’t run her mouth.” JJ & John B both now leaning over the railing of the porch. “She doesn’t, trust me.” John B smiles at him. “How do you know?” Confusion clear in JJs voice.

“I fucked her last year after a kegger.”

[sunflowervolvimp3]

42 Hours

Content: an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time

Warnings: language, mentions of nsfw content

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 20k 

A/N: I actually cannot believe that this is finally being posted over almost a month of working on it!! originally, I was going to make this one long stand alone fic, but once I hit 35k with no end in sight, I decided to split it into two parts so that it would be easier to read for you guys.  I’m hoping to have part 2 posted within a week, so keep an eye out for it!! this fic was partially inspired by this post by @avhrodite​ (thank you miss bailey!!) and can I just say that I had so much fun writing it!! I love road trips!! it makes me so sad that I had to split this fic because there are so many fun music scenes in the next part but those will all come in due time!! I would also like to give a big thank you to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and miss alex @darthstyles​ for putting up with me bouncing ideas off of them and for proof reading for me!! and miss andrea again for editing this stunning header pic!! also everyone I tagged is a wonderful writer and if you’re looking for more to read after reading this then I HIGHLY suggest taking a look through their masterlists. and as always, if you like this fic, please like and reblog it!! and shoot me a message!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by all content creators <3

{masterlist}

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

When she was a little girl, Y/N’s grandmother had told her about Murphy’s Law.  Grandma Sarah’s favourite activity was staring at her granddaughter over the kitchen counter, a knife in one hand and half an onion that she’d been cutting in the other, spouting various wisdoms at the young girl, who would often be sitting and peeling vegetables for her.  The old lady had hoped that, after being lectured enough times on life’s difficulties, Y/N might be able to avoid making the same mistakes that she had made in her own time.  She always had a list of advice that she’d cycle through, as if she were a record on a loop.

“Always look both ways before crossing the street.  Your great uncle Albert didn’t, and he never regained full function of his left hand.”

“Beauty fades, but there’s no shelf life on your mind.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side, so stop staring at it, and focus on taking care of your own lawn.”

All of the advice was, by any accounts, useful for anyone to know, especially a young girl.  Of course, sometimes the advice would get a little scrambled after Grandma Sarah had had a few glasses of wine, but even her tipsy thoughts were useful to Y/N in her later years.  To this day, Y/N still sets a glass of water on her nightstand before going out to a bar, and her hungover self is always grateful the next morning.  And Y/N had yet to find anything that smelled as sweet as a vanilla dabbed behind her ears and on her wrists when she runs out of perfume.  However, perhaps the most important piece of advice Grandma Sarah ever gave her came one afternoon when Y/N was eleven years old, and her older cousin Grace was due to get married the next week.

Grandma Sarah had cracked egg after egg into her mixing bowl, always without getting any unwanted pieces of shell in the egg whites, and gave her granddaughter a long look across the kitchen counter.

“When you get married, Y/N,” She had said, voice firm. “Remember Murphy’s Law.  Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.  When Murphy’s Law comes into play, there’s nothing you can do except roll with the punches.”

Eleven year old Y/N had nodded her head seriously, as she always did when her grandmother told her seemingly important things.  The advice, despite its usefulness, however, didn’t stick around in her head, and Murphy’s Law didn’t cross Y/N’s mind for fourteen years.

It takes fourteen years for Y/N, who is standing in front of a flight check-in at LAX, two large suitcases next to her, one of which contains two gold wedding bands, passport in hand, and a distressed look on her face, to remember the law her grandmother had once told her about.

“When you get married, Y/N…anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.”

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Y/N pushes the echoing words of her grandmother out of her head. “I’m sorry, just—” She gives a pained smile to the lady working the check in. “Can you explain that to me again, please?”

The lady also takes a deep breath, the smile on her ruby tinted lips just as pained as Y/N’s. “There’s a storm system moving through Utah and Colorado.  These systems have the potential to become tornadoes, and because of that, the conditions for flying are too dangerous right now, so all flights through that area are grounded until further notice.”

“So my flight is cancelled?” Y/N holds up the ticket in her hand that’s stamped with LAX – JFK. “This flight, this flight to New York, which is nowhere near Utah—that’s cancelled?”

The check-in lady, whose name tag reads Brynn, gives another tight smile. “Yes, ma’am.  It’s cancelled.”

“Okay, no, I’m sorry, Brynn, but that doesn’t work for me.” Y/N shakes her head fiercely as the manic rush of emotions through her begins to set in.  The denial, she finds, keeps the oncoming panic at bay, and so she decides to focus on that to ground herself. “My best friend is getting married in the Catskills in one week.” Y/N holds up one finger, as if her words are hard for Brynn to understand. “That’s one week from today.  I’m the maid of honour.  I have to be there to help organize, keep her calm, and make sure she actually makes it down the aisle, because—between you and me—she’s got some commitment issues—” The more Y/N speaks, the more her panic begins to spill out in her words, like a dam with a leak that’s about to burst. “And she forgot the goddamn wedding rings, so I have those too, and I just—I really need to get to New York, like, now. Right now.”

Y/N finally pauses to take a sharp breath, and Brynn, who had been waiting for her to finish, speaks again, her voice flatter than before.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am, but as I said, all flights are grounded right now.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, Y/N takes another deep breath.  Roll with the punches, her grandmother had told her.  What else is there to do? “Okay.” Y/N is careful to keep her voice in check when she speaks again. “Alright.  Do you know when they’ll be ungrounded?”

“As I’ve said,” Brynn’s smile is more of a grimace now, and Y/N knows that she’s treading on thin ice. “All flights are grounded until further notice.  We’re not sure when we’ll be able to open them again.  It could be a day, or it could be five.  If you’d like, I can put you down on a list to be called when flights are available again, but I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”

“Let’s do that, then.” Y/N relents in a tired voice, already making plans to pick up a coffee on her way back to her apartment.  In the back of her mind, she begins to wonder if she has any Baileys Irish cream liqueur left in her kitchen cabinet—and if 8:30 A.M. is too early to be drinking Baileys with her coffee.

…

It takes Y/N two cups of coffee with Baileys (it had been 10 A.M. by the time she arrived home, thanks to L.A. traffic, and she had decided that 10 A.M. was a fine time to drink when one’s flight gets cancelled indefinitely) to work up the courage to call Jo and tell her that she isn’t sure if she’ll be able to make it to the wedding.

Josephine Waters, or Jo to anyone who doesn’t want to get punched in the arm, has been Y/N’s best friend since the girls were five years old.  They became fast friends on the first day of kindergarten, as Jo liked how Y/N could already colour inside the lines, and Y/N liked how Jo tackled a boy who tugged on Y/N’s pigtails.  From the very beginning, the two were a perfect match for each other; where Y/N was reserved, Jo was wild.  Where Jo was disorganized, Y/N was focused.  Each girl balanced the other in the most natural way, and it’s this fact that Y/N and Jo credit for the two of them staying friends for twenty years. As they grew up together, they grew together, taking the very best traits from the other and using it to help themselves develop.  Y/N had been the first person that Jo came out to, confessing to her best friend during an eighth grade sleepover in a quiet and nervous voice.  To Jo’s pleasure, Y/N had been completely supportive, and returned the favour from the first day of kindergarten by punching a boy in the nose for calling Jo a homophobic slur.  Jo helped Y/N through her parent’s divorce.  Y/N helped Jo manage her ADHD.  Jo talked Y/N through discovering her bisexuality in university. Y/N answered every 3 A.M. phone call to comfort Jo after a panic attack.  In every sense of the word, the two girls had been there for each other.

And now Y/N is going to miss Jo’s wedding.

The harsh realization digs a pit in her stomach as she opens her phone and clicks on Jo’s name.  It’s noon in L.A., which means it’s 3 P.M. in New York time, and Y/N knows Jo will answer.  She always does.

Sure enough, after three short rings, Jo’s voice chirps through the phone. “Hey, Y/N!  Has your flight landed already?”

“No, there’s—there’s been an issue.” Y/N downs another gulp of her coffee, wishing she had added more Baileys when she had the chance, and clears her throat before continuing. “There’s, um, a storm in Utah, and apparently it’s bad, and so all flights from L.A. to New York are grounded until further notice.”

Jo makes a scoffing noise, and Y/N can practically picture the indignant look on her face that she’s seen so many times before. “That’s ridiculous.  Did you tell them that New York is nowhere near Utah?”

“Uh huh.”

“What about that my wedding is in one week?”

“I told them that, too. Brynn didn’t seem to care.”

“Bitch.” Jo mutters under her breath. “Okay, just wait a second, Laure just walked through the door, so I’m putting you on speakerphone—”

Y/N hears rustling on the speaker, as well as muttering in the background as Jo speaks to her fiancée, and then Jo’s voice is back, sounding slightly more distant.

“Okay, so I told Laure what happened—”

“That’s awful, Y/N.” Laure’s voice is laced with stress, and Y/N can only imagine how much anxiety this information is adding to her already full plate. “They won’t tell you when flights will be leaving again?”

“Nope.” Y/N pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her free arm around them, leaning her head against the back of her couch.

“Okay, well, planes aren’t the only way to get here.” Laure says, always the more rational out of the two. “Maybe a car—?”

“Y/N doesn’t have one.” Jo chimes in, a hint of teasing in her voice, despite the serious problem that’s in discussion. “She’s scared of driving—”

Y/N sits up, an indignant look on her face. “I’m not scared of driving!” She says hotly, setting her empty coffee mug on the table with a thud. “I just hate L.A. traffic, and honestly, there’s no point!  I can walk to work, and Uber anywhere else I need to go!  A car would be completely useless to me!”

“Except now, when you’re about to miss your best friend’s wedding.” Jo points out. “What about renting one?”

Y/N sighs, her moment of indignation already fizzled out. “I tried that already.  There’s nothing available for a cross country trip.”

“And the drive is so long.” Laure murmurs, and Y/N knows it’s more for Jo’s benefit than hers. “It’s over forty hours.  She can’t do that by herself; it’s not safe.”

“But—”

“Look, Jo, don’t worry about this, alright?” Y/N cuts across her best friend’s anxious voice, assuming her usual role of protector. “I’ll figure this out.  I promise you; I will make it to your wedding on time, looking pretty in my dress, and with your wedding bands.  I promise.”

“We’ll keep thinking about it and see what we can come up with.” Laure promises through the phone, her voice sounding further and further away. “This is just—it’s a bump in the road, but it’s fine.  We can work around this.  We’ll find a way.”

…

The way that Laure finds for Y/N pounds on her door at 7:30 A.M. the next morning.

Y/N, like any exhausted and stressed out adult who has already begun her ten days of vacation time that she booked off for the wedding, is fast asleep in her bed when she hears the knocking.  The loud noise pulls her out from her dreams abruptly, and she cracks one eye open, squinting through the sunlight that’s lighting up her room.  When the knock echoes through her apartment again, she pulls herself from her sheets with a groan, grabbing her robe from the back of her door and tying it around herself as she makes her way to the front hallway to yell at whoever has the audacity to wake her up.

When she opens the door, Harry Styles is peering down at her with an irritated look on his face.

“Took you long enough, Y/N.” He rolls his eyes as he speaks, finally stepping back from the door that he had been pounding on a moment ago. “Are you ready to go?”

Y/N rubs her eyes, suppressing a yawn as she does so. “Styles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.  What are you doing here?” She demands.  She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, she thinks, let alone the mental capacity to listen to anything he has to say.

Harry crosses his arms across his chest, and it’s then that Y/N notices the duffel bag strewn over his shoulder. “It’s a forty-two hour drive from L.A. to the Catskills.” Harry’s eyes scan over Y/N’s appearance, the very corner of his strawberry pink lips twitching, and Y/N tightens her robe around herself with a glare.

“A drive?” Y/N asks, uncertainty growing in her voice as she crosses her arm over her chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Your flight was cancelled, right?” Harry’s voice grows more impatient as Y/N’s half asleep brain struggles to piece together what’s happening. “So was mine, so I decided to drive to the wedding, and then Laure called me last night, begging me to take you with me.” He shrugs a bit, fixing his sunglasses on top of his head as his jade eyes scan over her appearance one more time. “Not my first choice of road trip partner, but I don’t think the best man can say no to bringing the maid of honour.  And splitting the cost of gas will be nice.”

“Okay, wait, I…” Y/N’s finally coming out of her fog of exhaustion, and the newfound clarity of her mind is causing a newfound pit to develop in her stomach. “Laure and Jo didn’t tell me any of this.”

“Well, I expect they’re a bit busy, given that they’re getting married in a week.” Harry adjusts the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder with a sharp sigh. “Look, are you ready to go or not?  It’s over a five day drive, so we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“I—yeah—” Y/N nods before taking a hesitant step back from the doorway, positioning herself to the side so that Harry can get by her. “I just have to get dressed and grab a couple last minute things, so…come in, I guess.”

Harry flashes an insincere smile to Y/N as he steps into her apartment, his eyes darting around at the furniture and home decor.  Y/N watches as his gaze lingers on her library of books, her yellow bicycle leaning against the wall, and every other little touch of herself that she likes her home to have, and she can see the judgement that’s clearly apparent in his eyes.

“You can sit, if you want.” She mutters, turning on her heel to go back to her bedroom. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

The first thing Y/N does when she shuts her bedroom door behind herself is assess the situation in the analytical way that usually calms her.  Alright.  So a road trip across the country isn’t exactly ideal, and a road trip across the country with Harry Styles is even less ideal.  But, at the present moment, being stuck in a car with Harry seems to be the only sure way that she’ll be able to make it to Jo’s wedding on time. And for Jo, Y/N would put up with anything.  Even Harry.

As she rummages through her drawers for some leggings and a tank top, Y/N wonders what she could have possibly done to bring this much bad karma into her life.  While she gets dressed, her mind flickers back to Murphy’s Law, how everything that can go wrong will go wrong, in the worst possible way, and then she thinks about being in a confined space with Harry for five days, and—yeah.  That seems to be the worst possible thing she can think of.

Y/N remembers the first moment she’d met Harry seven years ago, and the unfortunate circumstances under which that meeting had happened.  Jo and Laure had just barely met back then, and Jo had begged Y/N to come out on a double date with her and “this really hot girl from my women studies class who I’m, like, 83% sure swings my way.”

Y/N had groaned at that comment, flopping back on her bed in the tiny dorm that she and Jo shared. “No! I have an essay due in three days that I haven’t even started!”

Jo rolled her eyes as she flopped down on Y/N’s bed as well, ignoring her own half-made bunk that was across the small room, favouring her best friend’s bed like she always did. “We both know you’re not starting that essay until the day before it’s due, and that it’s just an excuse because you don’t want to go!”

“I don’t want to go.” Y/N had agreed with a sharp and fervent nod.  She shut her laptop and pushed it to the side of her bed, knowing from experience that she wasn’t going to be able to focus and argue at the same time. “Why would I want to hang out with a complete stranger while you make googly eyes at a girl from your class?”

“Okay, first, I don’t make googly eyes.” Jo made a face at that comment, nudging Y/N’s calf with her own foot. “And second, he’s her best friend from high school, and he’s coming to visit all the way from London!”

“So?  He’s still a stranger!” Y/N pointed out, her eyes drifting to the sticky note covered novel beside her.  She picks it up and begins to flip through the marked pages as she speaks. “Knowing where he’s from doesn’t change that!”

“It should, because he’s only going to be here for a week, and Laure almost cancelled the date because she doesn’t want to miss spending time with him—” Jo grabbed one of Y/N’s pillows and tossed it at her arm, knocking the book from her hands. “Focus! So I said that he could come, but she said that she didn’t want him to be left out, so I said that I happen to have an incredibly beautiful and witty best friend who would be able to entertain Harry while we all hang out together.”

Y/N inhaled deeply as she gave Jo a withering look. “Did you already tell her I’m going?”

Jo, in return, gave Y/N her most dazzling smile. “Yes.  We’re meeting them for dinner at 7.”

Y/N shakes herself from her memories as she runs to her bathroom to toss her toiletries back into the bag she’d taken them out of the day before, working as quickly as she can. It does her no good to think of Harry in the past, she thinks, because the present Harry is currently sitting in her living room, probably snooping through her stuff, and the longer she takes to get ready to go, the more he’ll go through.  Not that there’s anything incriminating in her apartment, really—or at least, nothing incriminating in her living room.  When Y/N makes it back to her bedroom, however, to quickly zip up her suitcase, she does make sure she grabs her favourite vibrator from the box under her bed, tucking it between her half-folded underwear.  If she’s going to be gone for a week, she’ll need something to help her relax.

Within a few more minutes, Y/N is repacked and ready to go.  Her hunter green bridesmaid dress is carefully arranged on the very top of her clothes in her suitcase, all of her makeup and toiletries are packed inside, and Jo and Laure’s wedding rings are secured in little velvet boxes stashed between her socks.  As far as physical preparedness goes, Y/N is ready to go on a coast to coast road trip. As far as mental preparedness goes, however…that’s the thing that Y/N’s not quite sure about.

…

“What are you doing?”

Y/N glances at Harry from the corner of her eye, her hand still half stretched out to the radio dials in his car.  Although Harry’s green eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, and his face is turned towards the long road in front of them, he still somehow manages to catch her motions, and it irritates her to no end.

“I’m changing the radio station?” Y/N answers after a moment, giving him a puzzled look. “I don’t know why you listen to this weird oldies station, but—”

“First of all—” Harry’s hands turn the steering wheel slightly to guide his car over the curve of the road, his jaw twitching as a smirk works its way onto his pink lips. “This isn’t a radio station, it’s my Spotify playlist.  I put a Bluetooth connection in Stevie a year ago. Secondly—”

“Stevie?” Y/N repeats incredulously, twisting her whole body as best she can to look at Harry straight on. “You named your car?  You’re one of those guys?”

Harry finally gives Y/N a flicker of a glance, the glare obvious in his eyes even behind his dark sunglasses.  He turns his attention back to the road before replying. “Secondly—” He continues from before, ignoring her comment as his right hand readjusts the gear shift. “Driver picks the music.”

Y/N makes a face, the corners of her lips pulling down into a grimace as she settles back into the passenger seat with her arms crossed. “So we’re just going to listen to ‘Tiny Dancer’ for the entire drive, are we?”

“Not the entire drive, no.” Harry flicks on his turn signal with a ringed hand before shoulder checking to change lanes.  Y/N glances at him, her eyes training on the strained muscles in his neck as Harry continues. “We’ll listen to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,’ too.”

“Great.” Y/N exhales slowly and presses her head back into the seat’s headrest, closing her eyes as Elton John’s voice continues to float through the speakers. “Really looking forward to it.”

“You know, maybe you should try to sleep.” Harry says, his voice prickled with irritation as Elton John bleeds into The Zombies. “I think you’ll be in a better mood after you take a nap.”

Y/N readjusts her crossed arms as she mutters a short reply. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Still, she shuts her eyes again, twisting her body towards the window in an attempt to get comfortable enough to sleep.  Being in the car with Harry is already giving her a throbbing migraine, and they’ve only been on the road for less than two hours.  Sleeping through most of the trip will probably be the only way she’ll be able to survive it.

Despite that realization, however, her phone vibrates in her lap three minutes later, pulling her away from her thoughts.  Y/N glances down at the now lit screen, catching her bottom lip between her teeth when she registers the name on the message.  Opening her phone quickly, she reads over the reply as a guilty feeling begins to build in her stomach.

BRANT: Hey, what are you doing tonight?  Want to grab some dinner?

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” Y/N’s head snaps back up, her eyes jerking in Harry’s direction.  Like before, he’s watching her from the corner of his eye, catching every one of her movements, and the constant surveillance is annoying to no end.

Harry, it seems, is either oblivious to her annoyance, or is choosing to ignore it. “I asked what’s wrong. You have a weird look on your face.” Harry’s blunt words are accompanied by the sound of him tapping his ring covered fingers against the gear shift. “Everything alright?  Is it Laure and Jo?”

“No, it’s just—” Y/N glances down at her phone again, fingers poised over her keyboard as she crafts a reply in her head. “It’s no one.”

Harry snorts once, a short and harsh sound that grates against Y/N’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “I don’t buy that for a second.”

“It’s no one to you.” Y/N updates her retort, turning her full attention back to her phone. “My personal life is none of your business.”

Y/N: I’m sorry, I can’t!! Caught a last minute ride to New York with somebody.  Maybe once I’m back?

“Personal life, huh?” Harry clicks his tongue once, and the childish noise is even more irritating than his snort. “What, you can’t talk to me about whoever you’re shagging?”

The blunt remark hits Y/N like a shot to the chest, and she sputters for a moment as she struggles to form a response. “I—we’re not—” Taking a moment to gather herself and clear her throat quickly, Y/N avoids Harry’s gaze as her cheeks begin to burn. “We’re not like that. We’ve just…had a few dates, that’s all. There’s nothing…official.”

“You don’t need to be official to have a shag, now, do you?” Harry lifts his hand from the gear shift to fix his sunglasses, settling it back down on his jean covered thigh once he’s done. “If you don’t want to date the bloke—”

“I didn’t say that.” Y/N cuts over him, pulling herself from her embarrassment enough to give him a cold glare. “He’s very nice—”

“Boring, you mean—”

“And I—this is none of your business!” Feeling the flush of embarrassment rise back to her cheeks, Y/N once again turns her attention to her passenger seat window, avoiding Harry’s pressing gaze. “I’m done talking about this.”

Harry gives an indifferent shrug. “Whatever.” He says casually, tapping his finger against his thigh as his shoulders once again lift slightly beneath his fitted black t-shirt. “I just feel bad for the guy, that’s all.”

The comment is bait. And the thing is, Y/N knows it’s bait.  She knows that the only reason Harry is saying it is to get under her skin and keep her talking about Brant, further embarrassing herself in the process. She’s been around Harry enough to know how he works, and she knows that the only reason he would say that is to bait her.  She knows she shouldn’t take it.  And yet—

“There’s no reason to feel bad for him.” Y/N scoffs as she fidgets with the position of her seatbelt, trying to stop the strap from cutting into her chest. “We’ve been talking for a month, and there’s nothing official happening.  Just because you can’t go that long without trying to stick your dick in someone—”

“You have no idea what I can do, Y/N.  Don’t pretend that you do.” Harry’s tone of voice is just as scoffing as hers, his eyes still set on the road in front of them intently as he gives his sharp response. Y/N watches as he shifts the gears of the car and speeds up, just enough to make the engine roar, but not enough to lose control of the car.  Part of Y/N wistfully wishes that he would just slip up and crash the car, just so she wouldn’t have to continue this conversation.

“All I meant,” Harry continues, unaware of the dark daydreams running through Y/N’s head. “Is that I feel bad that you’re clearly not interested in him, which is proven by the fact that you haven’t wanted him in your bed.”

Irritation flares through Y/N’s body again, stronger than the embarrassment of discussing her sex life (or lack thereof) with Harry, and she half considers just grabbing the steering wheel and yanking it into a passing cliff so she can finish them off herself. “For Christ’s sake, Harry, sex isn’t the only way to—”

“I don’t mean actually having it, that’s not a given.” Harry rolls his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he slows down for a curve in the road, his practiced hands once again changing gears with ease. “You don’t have to fuck him.  But you should want to, especially if you’ve had a month of dates, and you clearly don’t want to.”

Y/N doesn’t hide the incredulous stare of disbelief on her face as she turns to look at him. Harry’s face, though turned towards the road still, has a look of amusement mixed with contemplation on it, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control not to smack the expression off of him. Although there’s the ghost of a smirk on his strawberry coloured lips, his brow is furrowed behind his sunglasses, as if he’s thinking hard about the conversation between them.  Normally, Y/N would be amazed that Harry is thinking hard about anything.  However, given that their conversation is apparently turning into whether or not she wants to have sex with someone, Y/N’s not too thrilled about his sudden investment and serious contemplation of the topic.

Shaking her head decidedly, Y/N finally spits out a finishing phrase. “You don’t know what I want.” She says decidedly, reaching into the backseat to grab the sweater she stashed back there.  She clumsily pulls it over her body without taking off her seatbelt.  Harry keeps the AC cranked as high as he can, and she knows that he’ll kill her if she tries to change it. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know more than you think.” Harry counters, the tip of his tongue running along his bottom lip. “And I’m pretty good at reading body language.  You don’t really want him.  He—what’s his name?”

Despite her better judgement, Y/N answers in a flat voice. “Brant.”

The corners of Harry’s cherry lip twitches. “Brant.  Yeah. It’s clear you don’t really want him, and you’re wasting your time.  You’re wasting his time, too.  Poor Brant.”

“Poor—you’re such an ass, you know that?” Y/N’s irritation bubbles over as she gives Harry a nasty look, her hand squeezing her thigh hard in an attempt to ground herself in their conversation. “You can try to pretend otherwise, but you don’t know anything about me, or him, so—”

“You think I’ve been friends with Laure and Jo this long and haven’t learned anything about you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, risking a glance at her as he presses a heavier foot onto the gas. “I told you, I know more than you think, and that includes your type.”

An incredulous scoff leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she shakes her head in obvious disbelief before responding. “My type.  Right. What is my type, then?  What’s Brant like, exactly, since you seem to know everything?”

Harry goes quiet then, his brow furrowing again as he returns his full attention to the road.  With his incessant chatter gone, the only sounds in the car being “Maps” playing quietly in the background and Harry’s ringed index and forefinger tap on the steering wheel.  Y/N breathes out a long sigh of satisfaction as she relaxes back in her seat, her attention turned back to the blurred landscapes speeding by her window.  Finally, she’s managed to get Harry to stop with his ridiculous assumptions—

“You like someone that’s stable and secure, so he probably works in some corporation, or an office job. Majored in business, I’d think, but has a minor in something like mathematics.” The side profile of Harry’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the thought. “He wants to work his way up in the company, but never wants to actually start anything on his own.  He likes the stability of a blueprint. You’re obsessed with punctuality, so he’s probably always on time to pick you up for dates—and he has to pick you up, because you don’t drive—and your dates are never really dates. Dinners, or movies, or something like that, but they never really have that spark.” Harry’s shoulder lift slightly as he continues to make his conclusions. “Which, honestly, is probably a big reason in why you don’t want to fuck him, because as much as you like stability and safety, you also like the idea of a grand gesture, or something like that.  And you probably split the bill a lot at dinner, right?  Because it just seems fair, but really it’s because you know it’s not a real date.  But it passes the time, and he’s nice, so it’s fine.  But it’s only fine.” Harry licks his lips once more as he collects his next thoughts, his teeth catching his bottom lip just barely as his tongue retreats back into his mouth. “And he’s probably already talking about you coming to meet his family for some holiday.  Not in a romantic way, but just because he likes to plan everything in advance to every minute detail.  Just like you.”

Halfway through Harry’s speech, a flush had begun to creep up Y/N’s neck, continuing to warm her jaw and ears before settling on the apples of her cheeks.  She keeps her eyes trained on her window and her mouth pressed into a tight line, refusing to look at Harry and give him any hint of just how shocked she is that he’s guessed so much.

Harry, however, doesn’t plan on letting her get away from his inquisition. “Well?” He impatiently prompts after a moment, and even though she’s not looking at him, she can feel him looking at her, his emerald irises burning into the back of her head. “Am I right?”

“I—” Y/N clears her throat quickly, but her voice is still strained and tight when she replies. “No.”

Harry hums low in his throat, and his voice is laced with curiosity with he replies. “Really?” The irritating tap of his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music continues. “What did I get wrong?”

“He—” Y/N hates the way her skin is burning from his interrogation, how her voice shrinks smaller and smaller the more she speaks.  If Harry knows her so well, then he knows how much she loves being in control, and in this situation, with Harry managing to pull every one of her most secret inner thoughts and feelings out of her without trouble, she feels anything but in control. “He has a minor in accounting, not mathematics.”

The laugh that leaves Harry’s mouth is loud and bombastic, and his whole body curves over the steering wheel as the sound rolls out of him, his eyes just barely managing to stay on the road while his sunglasses slide down his nose. “Right.” Harry says between belly laughs, his voice stretched out in amusement. “But everything else was spot on?”

Y/N keeps her stiff body turned towards the window, refusing to engage in the conversation any further. That doesn’t stop Harry, however, who fixes his sunglasses as chuckles continue to roll out of him.

“I take it back. Maybe he’s the one wasting your time.” His hand runs through his hair lazily, fixing the curled strands that had fallen into his eyes as he laughed. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to sleep with your bore of a boyfriend—”

“He’s stable!” Y/N breaks her silence to protest Harry’s words, her voice heated. “And he’s not my boyfriend.  We’ve been seeing each other, but we’re not—it’s not exclusive, or—nothing serious—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.  It’s fine.” Harry waves off her arguments with a flick of his tattooed hand. “Besides, like you said, it’s none of my business, right?”

Y/N can practically picture what Harry looks like in this moment.  His chestnut curls are probably a mess from fidgeting with them, and his cheeks are most likely rosy beneath his stubble from the peels of laughter that left his equally red lips a moment ago.  Most infuriatingly of all, his dimples are probably present, making little indentations in his cheeks to show how entertaining he’s found embarrassing her. Bastard, she thinks, clenching her fists so hard that her nails dig into her palms, pressing them into her sides beneath her makeshift blanket.

She refuses to let herself confirm if her suspicions about Harry’s appearance are correct, and instead keeps her gaze on the blurred trees whipping by outside her window. “Right.” She mutters, leaning her head against the headrest as she closes her eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

…

As soon as the paint-peeled door to the motel room swings open, Y/N knows that she’s not going to be sleeping soundly tonight.

She’s not sure what her first hint should have been.  Perhaps it was the half-flickering blue and red light of the Motel 6 sign that should have tipped her off, or the front-desk attendant who looked as though he was hiding a few secrets himself.  When Y/N and Harry had first approached the front desk of the tiny, vaguely mildew-smelling lobby, their clothes rumpled from the drive and their attitudes just as bothered, the employee in the Motel 6 uniform had barely raised an eye at them, not bothering to look up from his computer until Y/N and Harry were directly in front of him.

“Hi.” Harry had said, his voice taking on a cautious but polite tone that, Y/N remembers thinking, she would have appreciated hearing throughout their eight hour drive that day. “We’d like two rooms, please—”

“Here.” The attendant’s gum snapped in his mouth as he reached behind himself and grabbed an old key with a flimsy blue plastic tag from a wall of empty pegs. “Queen sized bed, the first door on the left.  It’ll do you two nicely.”

“Um, no.” Harry cleared his throat loudly as he gave a slight shake of his head. “We need two rooms.”

Finally, the attendant looked towards them, his eyes scanning Harry before Y/N.  The latter had self consciously pulled her sweater around her, as there was something in the attendant’s eyes that had bothered her. “Don’t have two rooms.  I got one room left.  Everything else is booked.”

Harry had glanced at Y/N then, and she knew that his thoughts mirrored hers: there was no way that they’d share a queen bed together.  No way in hell.  They’d barely survived eight hours in the same cramped car without one of them driving them off a cliff.  If Y/N had to share a bed with Harry, even for just one night, she’d probably end up smothering him in his sleep before the first snore left his obnoxious mouth.

“That’s really not an option.” Y/N had stepped forward then, crossing her arms around herself as the attendant’s eyes canvassed her again. “Isn’t there something—”

“Look, lady, I’m telling you what’s available.” The attendant’s eyes continued to flicker between her face and her chest, making Y/N’s skin crawl more and more with every word that fell from his gum-filled mouth. “The room might have a pull out chair—some do, but I couldn’t tell you which.  Now do you want to share the room with him or not?  If you don’t want to share, then I could try to find something else for just you—”

Before Y/N had the opportunity to respond to the lewd suggestion, Harry was already stepping forward, his body angling protectively in front of her own.  She watched from behind as his broad shoulders squared beneath his black t-shirt, his shoulder blades flexing as he straightened up to his full height.  When Harry answered, his voice was just as firm as it was dark, lacking its previous polite tone.

“We’ll take the room.” He had said coldly, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet before tossing a few bills on the front desk. “Thanks for the help.”

Yes, Y/N thinks, all of that should have been a sign for the state of the motel room that they now find themselves standing inside.

The same mildew smell from the lobby surrounds them, permeating through every inch of air that Y/N breathes in. Dust seems to coat every surface as well, with thick layers of it covering the decades old TV and stand, the small coffee table, and the ledge of the window to her right.  To her relief, there is a small arm chair in the corner, which must be the pull out that the attendant had mentioned.  However, her relief is short lived when she sees the ratty beige comforter on the bed, and wonders if maybe sleeping in Harry’s car, which she had sworn to him that she didn’t want to do, might have been the better choice.

Harry shuts the door behind them with a firm thud, turning the deadbolt lock before attaching the chain from the door to the door frame. “Let’s keep that locked, yeah?” He mutters, walking to the window and making sure the beige curtains—everything in the room is a sea of beige, like some sort of khaki coloured nightmare—are pulled closed tightly. “I don’t trust that front-desk prick not to sneak in here.”

Y/N nods, fixing the strap of her duffel bag with her overnight clothes on her shoulder.  She’s not quite sure where to set it down, as everything around them seems to have been sitting stagnant and uncleaned for a while. “Yeah. Thanks, by the way.  For that.”

Harry acknowledges her thanks with a small grunt, barely lifting his head to look at her. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Despite her gratitude for his actions, Y/N can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at his gruff response. “Jesus, can you not just say you’re welcome?”

Harry chooses to ignore her comment, and instead sets his bag down on the arm chair, unzipping it roughly. “You can take the bed.” He says simply, tossing his sunglasses into his bag before pulling out a small bag filled with what Y/N assumes are toiletries. “I’ll take the pullout.”

“Fine.” Y/N reluctantly sets her own bag down on the creaking bed, pulling back the covers to check for anything unsightly.  To her relief, the interior of the bed looks cleaner than the exterior, and she returns the covers to their previous position before grabbing her phone charger from her duffel.

Harry glances at her as she gingerly sits on the bed and plugs her phone into the wall. “I’m going to shower.” He says slowly, as if gauging her reaction to the simple phrase. “Do you, um, need in there, or—?”

“Nope.” Y/N shakes her head, her cheeks flushing slightly as she checks her messages. “You’re good.” She keeps her eyes glued to her phone until she hears the click of the bathroom door behind Harry, signalling that she’s alone.

Taking advantage of what she knows will be a rare moment of solitude over the next week, Y/N changes from her tank top and leggings into her pajamas, wishing that her past self had realized how likely it would be that she’d be sharing a room with Harry. She’d brought exactly two pairs of pajamas with her on the trip, and neither pairs were something she wanted Harry to see her in.  The first pair, a baby pink silk set she’d bought on a whim from her favourite lingerie shop, is eliminated before Y/N even considers them, leaving her with just her usual casual pajamas.  Unfortunately, Y/N’s usual casual pajamas consist of an old sports bra that she’d had since moving to L.A., and a pair of men’s boxers that she stole from an ex in college.  Still, despite her hesitancy, she knows that plaid boxers and a faded grey sports bra are better than pink silk and lace, and she changes into them quickly before sitting cross-legged on the bed and dialing Jo’s number.

Jo, like she usually does, answers on the third ring, her voice extra chipper to compensate for the verbal lecture that she knows is coming. “Hey, Y/N!  How was driving today?”

“It would have been better if I’d known Harry was driving.” Y/N sighs, rubbing her palm over the cold skin of her exposed thigh. “Shouldn’t I have been informed of that decision?”

“It completely slipped my mind, actually.” Jo says casually, and Y/N can just picture her leaning her chin into her palm. “How was the first day?  Are you calling to ask me to help bury his body in the desert?  Because, like, you know I would in a heart beat, but I think it may put a damper on mine and Laure’s nuptials if my best friend murders her best friend.”

“No one’s been murdered. Yet.” Y/N glances at the bathroom door, the sound of the shower echoing through the vents and into the bedroom. “Although a ‘help me hide the body’ phone call may be coming soon.”

“Uh oh.” Y/N hears something crackling against the speaker, and pictures Jo shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “Is it that bad?”

Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose as she contemplates the easiest way to answer Jo’s question. “He’s such an irritating ass.  He really is.” She lowers her voice, but only slightly.  If Harry’s eavesdropping, she thinks, then let him hear.  It would serve him right. “He wanted to pick a fight over every little thing, and he’s so particular about his car—did you know he named it?  He named it, Jo.  He talks about it like it’s a person!”

A loud sigh echoes through the speaker. “That’s really not that weird, you know.” Jo replies in her best peace keeping voice. “And, by the way, did you know that you’re really the only person who finds Harry irritating?  Laure adores him, and I really like him, and everyone who meets him thinks he’s very thoughtful!”

“Then they haven’t been trapped in a car with him and his playlists for eight hours.” Y/N begins to tap her fingers against her knee in a quick staccato pattern. “He practically interrogated me about Brant today, as if he has any clue about the people I date.”

“Did he?” There’s a trace of curiosity in Jo’s voice now, and Y/N can imagine her leaning forward in interest. “What did he say?”

“He said he thinks he’s boring.” Twisting a lock of her hair behind her ear as she speaks, Y/N leaves her hand resting against her cheek. “He was rude about it, too.  I didn’t ask for his opinion.”

“Well, honestly, Y/N…” Jo’s curiosity twists into hesitation. “Brant isn’t exactly the most thrilling person.  You know that.”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks flushing for what seems to be the millionth time that day. “I’m aware of that.  But he didn’t need to be so smug about it!”

“Okay, well, what’s done is done.” Jo says as she takes on her mediator persona once again. “So there’s nothing else to do now except go to sleep, get back in the car tomorrow, and continue driving.”

The sound of the shower stream cuts off, leaving just the pitter patter of rain beginning to hit the roof of the motel as ambiant noise. “I guess.” Y/N mumbles, fidgeting with the waistband of her bra. “I’ll talk to you later.  Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After the line clicks dead, Y/N flops back on the squeaking mattress and begins to scroll through her phone, opening her work email to check if everything is running okay back home while she’s gone.  On top of all this, the last thing she needs is for her work to completely blow up in her absence.  Within minutes, Y/N becomes so engrossed in her phone that she doesn’t even notice the bathroom door creaking open and Harry walking out with just a towel around his waist.

Until she looks up, and then her mind goes completely blank.

Immediately, Y/N feels overstimulated.  There’s just…so much going on that she doesn’t even know where to look first, let alone have the ability to remind herself that she shouldn’t even be looking at Harry like this in the first place.  

Harry’s curls are soaking wet, curling down around his flushed cheeks in a way that, if it were anyone else, she’d immediately describe as attractive.  Droplets of water are clinging to every inch of his skin, his toned and tanned and tattooed skin, that seems to continue forever as her eyes travel down his bare chest, noticing every curve of his muscle.  His jade cross, which is almost the exact shade of his eyes, sits between his pronounced pectoral muscles, moving ever so slightly with each step he takes.  Y/N notices tattoos she’s never seen before, like the giant butterfly across his toned stomach, and—her mind goes blank for just a moment—two vines that are tattooed over his prominent pelvic muscles, which just barely dip beneath the white towel that’s wrapped loosely around his hips.

As Y/N’s eyes glue themselves to the way Harry’s towel is moving as he walks, arousal begins to pool in her stomach, travelling all the way down to her core and back again.  For a split second, she thinks that maybe Harry is right.  Maybe she doesn’t want to fuck Brant, because she knows for certain that she’s never thought about him the way she’s thinking about Harry in this moment.

But it’s Harry, she reminds herself, as she tries to force herself to snap her gaping mouth closed. Underneath all those muscles and tattoos—and there are a lot of muscles and tattoos—it’s Harry, who annoys her to no end, who is one of the most self-absorbed individuals she’s ever met, and who has had it out for her since the day they met.

“Sorry.” Harry’s low accent snaps Y/N from her thoughts and pulls her wandering eyes back to his face. “Forgot my clothes out here.”

“It’s—” Y/N’s voice cracks in the middle of the word, still hyper-focused on just how it’s possible for one person to be as attractive as they are irritating, and she clears her throat before trying to speak again. “It’s fine.”

If Harry notices the slip in Y/N’s voice, he doesn’t say anything.  Instead, he just walks to his open bag, locking one hand firmly over his towel as the other searches through his clothes.  He pulls out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, examining them for just a moment before nodding in satisfaction and heading back to the bathroom. Y/N almost swears that she sees him glance at her one last time before he shuts the door, but then she gets lost in the taut muscles of his back, and forgets what she’s thinking entirely.

She’s only just begun to contemplate that maybe she should pull herself together when the door opens again, and Harry exits the bathroom in a way that’s a little more presentable.  His hair is still damp, but his body is dry, proven by the faded Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s now clinging to his arms and the boxers that are hanging low on his hips. His tattooed hips.  His incredibly sexy tattooed hips that could probably—

“What are you wearing?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow at her as he moves his bag from the chair to the ground.  He begins to unfold the bed from the armchair cushions to reveal a creaking twin bed, carefully stretching it out as he waits for an answer.

“I—pajamas.” Y/N glances down at herself self consciously, fixing the strap of her sports bra as she does so. “I just—I didn’t think we’d be sharing a room, so…”

Harry nods tersely as he finishes setting up the bed, his expression unreadable while he walks to the closet and grabs a set of sheets and a blanket. “Cute boxers.” He says casually. “Are they Brant’s?”

Within a flash, the intense rush of attraction and desire Y/N had been feeling is gone, and is instead replaced by the familiar irritation as she watches a smirk grow in the very corner of Harry’s mouth. “No.” She says flatly, turning her attention back to her phone.

“Interesting.” Harry says slowly, laying the sheets and blanket on the bed in a haphazard manner. “Whose are they, then?”

Y/N gets up from the bed and grabs her toiletry bag from her duffel before answering. “An ex.” She says shortly, tucking the patterned bag under her arm. “And why does it matter to you?”

The sound of the rain against the roof and windows gets louder and louder as they speak, and Harry raises his voice to be heard over the precipitation. “It doesn’t.” He shrugs as he maneuvers his lanky body under the blanket without causing the bed to fold in on itself. “Just curious, that’s all.”

“Well, you don’t need to be curious.” Y/N opens the bathroom door, sparing one last withering glance at Harry over her shoulder.  He’s sitting up on the bed with one leg hanging out from beneath the covers as one hand plays with his hair, the other fiddles with a ring on his finger, and the way he looks at her from the corner of his eye lights a fire in Y/N’s chest.  Except she can’t tell if it’s a fire of anger or arousal.  

When she slams the door behind her, it’s her own confusion over that distinction that frustrates her more than anything else.

…

“Took you long enough.” Harry scoffs while leaning against the side of his car, his white t-shirt a contrast to the dust covered body of the black Chevy Impala.  His dark sunglasses are perched on top of his head, keeping his unruly curls out of his eyes, while his arms are crossed over his chest impatiently as he waits for an answer. “I dropped off the keys ten minutes ago.”

By way of explanation, Y/N holds up the cardboard drink tray in her hands, a brown bag balancing in between the two coffee cups. “I was getting us breakfast, Styles.  Calm down.” She walks to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and climbing in one handed. “I figured you’d be even crabbier hungry.”

“You mean you’d be crabbier without caffeine.” Harry retorts, climbing into the driver’s side in one smooth motion. “Here—” He takes the tray from her so she can buckle her seatbelt, carefully removing the two coffees and setting them in the cup holders between them. “Just be careful not to spill anything.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she picks up the coffee closest to her (she’d gotten them both black). “Why? Worried about me ruining Stevie?”

Harry reaches into his pocket, pulling out his keys as he gives her an irritated look. “Yes, actually. I’ve put a lot of work into her.” The car roars to life as Harry turns the key in the ignition, buckling his own seat as the motor warms up. “Adding on two thousand miles to her in five days is already worrisome enough, and that’s not even counting the other two thousand she’ll get on the way back.”

Y/N doesn’t respond to the comment, and instead lets the sound of Harry’s playlist fill the silence of the car as Harry peels out of the Motel 6 parking lot.  She’ll be glad to leave that place behind, she thinks, and focus on finding something better—and more private—for tonight, wherever they end up.

Harry, however, doesn’t seem content with letting silence fall between them. “How did you sleep last night?” He asks after a few moments, one hand on the steering wheel as he takes a sip of his coffee.

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye suspiciously, Y/N reaches into the paper bag and grabs her Danish, taking a small bite before answering. “Not great.”

“Was the bed bad?” Harry asks curiously, his brow furrowing while his eyes stay glued to the road, moving only to glance at the occasion sign directing him back to the highway. “The pull out wasn’t great, but I’ve slept on worse.  I would’ve thought the bed would be better than that.”

“No, it—I mean, the bed wasn’t amazing, but it—” Y/N clears her throat and swallows the bite of pastry in her mouth. “I, uh, I don’t sleep well when it’s raining.”

At this new information, Harry’s eyebrow quirks up, and he risks a look in her direction to attempt to read her face.  Y/N’s own eyes are focused on the Danish in her hands, refusing to meet his gaze as she lifts the pastry to her mouth to take another bite.

“You don’t?” Harry asks after a moment, the confusion in his voice almost visible within the space between them. “But it’s like white noise, isn’t it?  Supposed to be relaxing, and all that.”

Y/N gives a half shrug of her shoulders. “It’s—well, it’s not the rain, exactly, just—what it’s usually paired with.” Y/N hopes that her clear hesitancy to answer will be enough of a signal to Harry for him to drop the subject.  Harry, however, doesn’t seem to pick up on the reluctance in Y/N’s voice; or, at least, he doesn’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“What do you mean, what it’s paired with?” Harry takes a small sip of his own coffee, careful of the temperature of the liquid. “Like…wind, or—?”

Y/N debates back and forth with herself internally, but she knows that Harry won’t drop the subject without getting a satisfying answer. “Thunder.” She answers finally, setting her coffee down in her cup holder before turning her gaze towards her window. “I don’t like thunderstorms, ever since I was a little kid, and when it’s raining, it always feels like thunder is around the corner.  Puts me on edge, like I’m waiting for it.  And I can’t sleep.”

“So you never sleep when it rains?” Harry asks slowly, and the tone of incredulous disbelief in Harry’s voice is enough for Y/N to be able to imagine the expression on his face. His forest green eyes wide, strawberry pink lips agape, brow furrowed in confusion, his jaw slack as he contemplates a response to a grown woman admitting that she’s afraid of thunder. The image in her head is enough to make the back of her neck flush.

There’s a tightness in the back of her throat, and Y/N attempts to clear it again before answering. “Never.”

“Huh.” Harry taps his fingers against the gear shift in succession three times. “You’d hate London, then.”

The casual comment catches Y/N by surprise, but she doesn’t allow herself to lower her guard. “That’s why I don’t live in London.” She mumbles the words as her fingers pick at the napkin wrapped around her Danish. “I picked L.A. for a reason.  It has lots of heat, barely any rain, and I’m reasonably close to Disneyland whenever I feel like I need something magical.” The last part slips out without Y/N thinking, and the flush creeps further up her neck as a surprised laugh leaves Harry’s mouth.

“Something magical?” Harry repeats, new crinkles appearing next to his eyes as he laughs, as if the dimples that crease his cheeks aren’t proof of his amusement enough. “Do you frequently feel like you need something magical?”

It’s Y/N’s turn to give an incredulous look now, her body half twisting towards Harry to observe his confusing reactions. “How did I just admit that I’m afraid of thunder, and the thing you’re focusing on is that I like Disney?”

Harry shrugs at her words, flicking on his turn signal to exit towards the highway. “I don’t know.” He says as he peers over his shoulder to check for oncoming cars. “I mean, everyone has fears.  Not liking thunder isn’t exactly uncommon, you know.  However, hearing that Ms. Serious Type A Perfectionist likes magic—” His grin grows bigger by the second. “Now that’s surprising.”

“Oh, shut up.” Y/N mutters, finishing her Danish in a few more bites.  She waits until she’s entirely finished chewing before continuing the conversation over the voice of Billy Joel coming through the speakers. “Since I’ve admitted something I’m afraid of…” She starts, glancing at Harry from the corner of her eye. “I think it’s only fair that you admit something, too.”

Harry snorts in response, his hand freezing its movement with his coffee cup still half lifted to his lips. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N hums as she slips off her shoes in order to pull her legs beneath her to fold into a cross-legged position on the car seat. “Not so much fun when it’s your turn, huh? C’mon, what’s the Brit scared of? Not enough biscuits for afternoon tea?”

A short and harsh breath of air leaves Harry’s nose, half a snort as he sets his coffee down in his cupholder. “No, actually, diminishing biscuit levels are a low level fear for me.”

“Then what’s a higher one?” Y/N prods, watching as Harry’s neck muscles tense as he shoulder checks to change lanes.  There’s something about the movement that catches her eye, but she can’t quite figure out why—or rather, she can, but she’d rather pretend that she’s unaware.

“Uh…” Harry’s fingers nimbly switch on his turn signal before he transitions to the left lane, his right hand moving the gear shift to its desired place. “Crowds.  I’m not a fan of big crowds, really.  Like when everyone’s pressed together, so tight that you can’t breathe, and you can’t hear yourself think because it’s so loud…yeah. I don’t like that.”

The simple answer surprises Y/N as much as she imagines her answer surprised Harry. “Crowds?” She repeats back to him, a forgotten memory of long gone conversations coming to the forefront of her mind. “But what about, like, concerts and stuff?  Laure always told me when she’d go to shows with you…”

“That’s different.” Harry shrugs as one of his ringed hands comes to his lips, rubbing over them slowly as he contemplates his next words. “I…When I’m at concerts, I always go with someone, and if we’re in the general seating area, where there’s a lot of people, I always stick with them.  Like, sometimes, if it’s getting crowded, or people are pushing, Laure will hold my hand, so…” Redness begins to creep up Harry’s pale neck, staining the tops of his ears a deep berry colour as he trails off.

Not for the first time since their conversation began, Y/N is surprised at how candid they’re being with each other.  As she watches Harry’s blush grow, she feels her own diminish, a physical representation of her trading her embarrassment for something more empathetic.

“I get it.” Y/N says after a moment, once it’s clear that Harry isn’t going to continue. “When there’s thunderstorms, um, I feel better when I’m with someone, or talking to someone. It makes me feel less…”

“Alone?” Harry finishes for her, his eyes flickering from the road to her profile.  His green irises capture hers for longer than they should, his focus completely gone from the stretch of highway for at least five seconds before Harry’s attention turns back to driving. “Yeah.” He says slowly, pulling his sunglasses down from his hair to hide his eyes. “Yeah, less alone. It helps.”

Y/N nods slowly, unable to look away from Harry’s side profile.  It’s apparent that he’s on edge after their conversation, and she knows her body language is the same.  Tight in the shoulders, hands clenched, back rigidly straight.  And yet, seeing her own body language reflected in front of her bothers her.  Part of her wants to reach out and take Harry’s hand, soothe him like Laure does in the crowd of a concert, but she knows that’s ridiculous.  It’s ridiculous, and it’s Harry, and Harry, of all people, does not need her comfort.  Not in the slightest.

She watches as Harry clenches his fist on top of his thigh.

…

“Is this really necessary?” Y/N asks, slamming her car door shut as Harry does the same on the other side of the vehicle.  She leans over the roof of the car, crossing her arms on the cool metal as she tilts her head to the side in an inquisitive manner.  The clouds in the sky are getting darker by the minute, signalling the beginning of the storm that canceled her flight, and the angry black colour above their heads is making Y/N anxious.

Harry, however, seems unbothered by the gathering storm, and nods tersely as he pushes his sunglasses up onto his head before opening the door to the backseat and grabbing his army green jacket. “Of course it’s necessary.” He says, slipping the jacket over his broad shoulders before slamming the door shut and locking the car. “I’ve never been to Utah before.  I want a souvenir.”

“Okay, but—” Y/N follows Harry as he walks towards the dilapidated building in front of them. “Here? Really?  Does this seem like the best place?”

Harry glances at her over his shoulder at her, pausing his long strides to look up at the building he spotted from the highway.  If the chipped grey paint that was once pastel blue and dust-coated windows are any sign, the structure is probably older than Harry and Y/N combined, with a splintered front porch wrapping around its small perimeter.  The building has one faded sign above the door that reads “SOUVENIRS/SNACKS” in hand-painted capital letters, and seems to be hanging onto the outside façade by three small bolts and sheer willpower.  Y/N’s almost certain that she’s seen this exact building in a horror movie before someone gets murdered, and while getting back into the car with Harry isn’t at the top of her list of wants, it’s certainly preferable to getting stabbed to death by a serial killer.

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Harry waves off her concern without a second thought about the appearance of the shop. “If you’re really bothered, you can wait in the car.”

Y/N considers it for a moment, but decides against it.  She needs to stretch her legs, and honestly, Harry seems too trusting.  He probably wouldn’t be able to tell if someone was sketchy until their knife was in his back.  And, seeing as how he has the keys to the only getaway car available, Y/N kind of needs him around without a stab wound carved into his flesh.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She sighs, pulling her own jacket around her tighter as she steps over the worn wooden steps to the door. “We’re on a schedule.”

When Harry pushes open the door, the smell of stale air hits Y/N before anything else.  Despite one open window and a fan in the corner of the shop that’s being used in a weak attempt to circulate the air, it feels like nothing fresh has been in the shop for a while.  Y/N shoots a glance at Harry, caution and warning written all over her face.

While Harry sees her glance, he waves off her concern, turning his attention to the few shelves and wire racks around the small shop that are lined with inventory.  Within a few moments, he’s entertaining himself in the post card section, comparing different photos of the Utah landscape to each other with great care and concern.  Y/N observes him for a few moments before wandering off on her own towards the snack section of the shop.  Although there are a few items that she thinks about picking up, the thick layer of dust over the packaging puts her off from purchasing them.  She grimaces as she continues walking, stopping in front of a tower of silver key chains in the back corner of the shop.  Most of them, she finds, are crosses and bible verses, and all of them give her an ominous feeling in her stomach.  Y/N runs her finger over a miniature silver version of the Ten Commandments, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she does so.

“I think we should go, Harry.” She calls to him without turning around, setting the key chain back down on the rack carefully. “Just pick your post card and—Harry?”

When Y/N turns around, Harry’s broad figure is nowhere to be seen.  She walks back over to the post card section slowly, her brow furrowed with confusion as a knot tightens in her stomach.  Where could he be? She wonders, running her hand along the dusty wire rack in front of her.  It’s not like there’s anywhere for him to go in the small shop, and she would have heard if he left, or if he drove away.

“Harry?” She calls again, her steps slower now as worry fills her voice. “Where did you—fuck—!” Y/N screams as something grabs her from behind, its fingers digging into her sides harshly.  She whips around to find Harry standing over her, loud outbursts of laughter spilling from his strawberry pink mouth at the look on her face.

An indignant flush rushes over Y/N’s face. “You’re such an ass!” She hisses, gripping his shoulders and shoving his laughing frame away from her. “I swear, you’re like a five year old—”

“Did I worry you?” Harry snickers between his words, a wicked look of mischief alight in his dark green eyes. “Were you afraid something happened to me?”

Y/N’s cheeks burn with anger as she turns away from him, crossing her arms defiantly. “No.  I wish something had happened to you.  Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your immature antics.”

Harry’s lips stay quirked up in a smirk as he follows her, his voice falling into a singsong tone. “You were worried.” He insists, chuckles still rolling out of him every few moments. “I could tell.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Y/N snaps at him in an irritated voice. “Just pay for your stupid post card and let’s go.”

“I already did. There’s a sign on the desk saying the clerk is out for lunch, so I left some money.” Harry nods to the small desk in the corner with a few dollars left tucked under the dusty service bell. “I think that’ll cover it, yeah?”

“Whatever.” Y/N can’t resist shoving Harry one last time before walking towards the shop door. “That’s enough.  Let’s go. I want to make it to the motel before the storm hits.”

…

The nice thing about Grand Junction, Colorado, Y/N realizes, is that their motels have multiple single rooms available on short notice.  While she didn’t realize the importance of this fact before this trip started, having an evening of solitude and her own stable space away from Harry for the first time in two days is nothing short of a blessing.

When she gets inside her private motel room, which, while still shabby, is leagues above their previous motel, Y/N locks the door before breathing a sigh of relief.  Just the silence in the room is wonderful, and even though she knows Harry is right next door, having a wall between them is a luxury that she doesn’t take for granted.  When she showers, she doesn’t have to worry about being quick, or toweling off as fast as she can so she can get dressed inside the bathroom without Harry seeing. There’s no need to worry about anyone hearing Y/N sing quietly to herself under the (albeit weak) stream of the shower, nor is there an uncomfortable stick of her sports bra to her back caused by water droplets that she couldn’t reach in her hurry to dry off. And after her shower, with some of the knots from her back finally worked out, Y/N is able to stretch out on the double bed in the center of the room, her phone in her hand as she reaches for the takeout menus stacked on the bedside table.  She peruses the menus available before settling on Chinese takeout, and within five minutes, her order of a two entrée plate and fried rice is on its way.

Y/N sighs gently as she leans back on the pillows, wishing that she and Harry had stopped at a liquor store before coming to the motel.  She knows she could probably walk to one, but now that she’s showered and comfortable, the last thing she wants to do is wander around Grand Junction until she finds a bottle of Moscato.  Instead, Y/N flicks on the TV with a click of the ancient remote, and begins scrolling through the channels until she finds a rerun of Dirty Dancing that’s just starting.

An amused yet wry smile appears on Y/N’s lips.  It’s this movie’s fault that she and Harry are on an impromptu road trip, really. Jo and Laure both loved it, and were insistent that they had to get married at a resort in the Catskills similar to one from the film.  As her two friends cross her mind, Y/N settles into the sheets as Baby begins her narration, contemplating whether or not she should call Jo to check in.  Just as the thought pops into her head, however, the phone rings.

Y/N answers within a moment, not bothering to check the caller ID.  She and Jo had a strange habit of calling each other the moment the other thought of it, and when she raises her phone to her ear, she expects to hear her best friend’s familiar voice reply. “Hello?”

What voice she actually hears, however, surprises her. “Hey, Y/N.  I’m glad I got through.” Brant says easily, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “How are you?”

“Brant!” Y/N jerks up in bed in surprise, the remote falling from its perch on her stomach onto the sheets. “I—I’m fine.  How are you?”

“Oh, alright.  Just busy with work, but that’s the usual.” Y/N can practically picture the neutral expression on his face, and how he’d shrug his shoulders as he speaks. “How’s the road trip?  I can’t imagine driving for as long as you have to drive.”

“It’s…it’s alright, yeah.” Y/N speaks slowly as she puts her phone on speaker, balancing it on her knee while her hands begin to fidget with her rings. “Long, but not too bad.”

“Well, that’s good.” Brant clears his throat thickly, as if what he’s about to say makes him uncomfortable. “I miss you, though.  And our weekly dinners.”

A feeling of guilt washes over Y/N.  Truthfully, besides Harry’s inquisition on the first day of driving, Brant has barely crossed her mind.  Granted, he isn’t usually at the forefront of her mind while she’s in L.A., either, but for the last few days, her thoughts have been constantly consumed by the stress of making it to the wedding and her annoyance and frustration with Harry.  

“Y/N?” Brant’s voice crackles through her speaker again. “Are you there?

“I—yeah.” She says quickly, pulling herself from her thoughts. “Sorry, just—long day.  I’m tired.”

“I can imagine.” Brant says sympathetically, but there’s something in his tone that almost sounds patronizing. “Who are you driving with?  Have you been taking turns?”

Y/N pauses the fidgeting of her rings before snatching her phone from its balanced place on her knee. She quickly opens her messages and scrolls to her thread with Brant, searching through the text bubbles for a reminder of what she’d said to him.  Had she not told him that she was traveling with Harry?

Within a moment, Y/N confirms that she hadn’t.  All she had said was that she was getting a ride with someone.  Why had she done that, she wonders?  She’s sure she’s mentioned Harry in passing to Brant at least once.  When she talked about the wedding, probably.  As she thinks about it more, however…what had she told Brant about the wedding?  About Jo? How much does he actually know about her personal life?  Most of their dinner conversations revolve around work, or some book both of them have read.  Had the topic ever come up in detail?

“I’m, um, I’m driving with one of Laure’s friends.” Y/N brings the phone closer to her mouth as her other hand works its way to her mouth.  She begins to chew on a hangnail absentmindedly between her words, something she always does when her nerves begin to get to her.  She can’t count the number of times Jo has grasped her wrist and pulled her hand from her mouth to chastise her about the habit. “We’re…we’re in Colorado now.”

“Oh, Colorado.  That’s nice.” Brant says over the rustling of papers. “Listen, Y/N, I’ve got some work to get back to, but I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll call you again soon.”

“Uh, yeah.  Sure.  I’ll talk to you later.” Y/N nods, and then the line goes dead.  Out of curiosity, Y/N checks the length of the call.  The time 3:09 blinks back at her.

Tossing her phone back down on the covers, Y/N resumes her relaxed position in bed, despite being anything but relaxed after that phone call.  She should feel guilty, she thinks, for not telling Brant about Harry. But then again, what’s there to tell? She said she was getting a ride with one of Laure’s friends, and that’s true.  She hadn’t lied.  And even if Brant did know that the friend is Harry, why would he care?  It’s just Harry.  There’s no reason for Brant to be alarmed, because there’s nothing going on. And she and Brant…Y/N glances down at the call time again.  Things are different between them.  There’s…they’re comfortable as they are, she thinks.  They’re not dating, and they’re comfortable like that.  So there’s no reason to tell him about Harry, because there’s nothing to tell.  Nothing at all.

Y/N refocuses on the TV screen, where Patrick Swayze is dancing in a tight black tank top. Right.  Nothing to tell.

…

When Y/N leaves her motel room the next morning with her bag over her shoulder, Harry is already waiting by his car, leaning against the dusty black body with two coffee cups in his hands.  He’s dressed in another black t-shirt (Y/N wonders just how many identical copies of the same shirt Harry has) with usual jeans covering his long legs.  His curls are tied out of his face with a dark green bandana, and Y/N knows that if his eyes weren’t covered with his black sunglasses, the bandana would make them even brighter than they usually are.

“Hey.” Harry calls to her, extending a ringed hand that holds a coffee cup towards her as she walks over. “I got the coffee this morning.  You drink it black, right?”

Y/N nods as she takes the cup from him, careful not to brush over his fingers with her own. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Harry crosses around to the back of the car, opening the trunk with a turn of his key. “Here.” Harry holds out his free hand for Y/N’s bag, taking it from her and setting it down on top of the suitcases in the back. “I got it.”

Y/N regards Harry with a bemused look as she wraps both hands around her coffee cup. “Thanks?” She says again, more questioning this time as she looks at him strangely. “I can do that myself, you know.”

“I know.  I’m just trying to be polite.” Harry’s voice takes on its usual bite like he’s flipping a switch. “Is that alright with you, princess?”

Within a second, the familiar irritation with Harry returns to Y/N, and it’s almost comforting to snap back at him in a testy voice. “Don’t call me that.”

Harry snickers under his breath, and although the sound makes Y/N’s annoyance grow, she detects a different tone in it than a few days before.  Before she can place a finger on why it sounds different, however, Harry is climbing into the driver’s side of the car and starting the engine.

The two of them are silent as Harry finds his way back to the highway, and they stay in that silence for the first few hours of that day’s leg of the trip.  As the third hour begins to pass, Y/N is content listening to the throaty and captivating voice of Stevie Nicks fill the cab of the car. By the second chorus of the song, Y/N is humming along quietly, her foot tapping to the same beat that Harry’s fingers are spelling out against the steering wheel.  It’s comfortable, she thinks after a moment.  The silence between them.  It feels different than it did on their first day, when Y/N was questioning her choice to get into a car with Harry and commit to a 42 hour drive. The silence seems to be fueled more by comfort than tension.  It’s…refreshing.

A memory from the first day ignites in the back of her mind, a spark so bright and obvious that she can’t believe it took her so long to see it. “Stevie.” Y/N says suddenly, turning to Harry as a smile spreads over her face. “You named your car Stevie, as in Stevie Nicks?”

Harry laughs, his shoulders moving up and down beneath his black t-shirt from the motion.  One hand lifts from the steering wheel and points a finger gun at her. “Took you long enough.  I was wondering how many days you’d have to listen to my music to get it.”

Y/N gives his hand a light shove. “I was too distracted by the fact that you named your car.” She rolls her eyes, bringing her bottle of water to her lips for a short sip. “I still think it’s weird.”

“It gives her character.” Harry defends himself as he rubs a hand over the steering wheel absentmindedly. Y/N can see the mirth swirling around in his light irises. “A bit of personality.  Just because you don’t value personalities doesn’t mean anyone else doesn’t.”

“I don’t value personalities?” Turning in her seat to stare at Harry head on, Y/N raises an eyebrow in question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just your taste in men, that’s all.” Harry says it casually, like it really can just be a “that’s all” type of sentence.

Within a heart beat, the comfortable atmosphere in the car turns to ice as Y/N straightens in her seat, her spine tense, tightening every nerve in her body along with it. “What the fuck does that mean?”

When Harry glances at her again, his eyes darken, his guard going up as he senses the shift in Y/N’s tone. “Nothing, just…motel rooms have thin walls.” Harry mumbles, having the decency to keep his eyes on the road as his ears redden slightly. “And from what I overheard, Brant doesn’t exactly seem…stimulating.”

Y/N sputters indignantly for a moment, unable to form a coherent response as anger rises in her chest. “You—” She sucks in a quick breath that hits the back of her throat harshly. “You eavesdropped on me?”

Harry licks his lips once, clearing his throat once before answering.  The tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel has resumed, his nervousness apparent in his movements as well as his facial expressions. “Not on purpose.  I told you, the walls were thin.”

“So put in head phones!” Y/N exclaims, gripping her water bottle so tight that her fingers begin to strain in protest against the metal exterior.  She has half a mind to throw the bottle at Harry in her anger, barely able to talk herself down from the ledge of the idea.

Harry’s posture shifts in his seat as his shoulders square, and Y/N can practically see his defensive side emerge from within his chest. “It’s not like you two were having phone sex.” He rolls his eyes at the idea. “It was the most boring conversation in the world, and lasted, what, three minutes?  Makes you wonder how long he lasts in other ways, doesn’t it?”

“Stop the car.” Y/N’s voice is low and void of emotion as she replies, her body turned back forward in her seat.

“Am I wrong?  It’s not like you know for sure—”

Anger bubbles over in Y/N’s chest, cancelling out any rational thought she has inside her and leaving pure, unadulterated fury. “Stop the car, Harry!  Now!”

Harry half jumps in his seat when Y/N yells, and he quickly jerks the car to the side of the highway without so much as a turn signal.  Pulling her seatbelt off as he pulls over, Y/N is out the door before Harry can so much as put the car into neutral.  While her more rational mind would tell her that she has nowhere to walk to along a highway in Colorado as the sky darkens to an angry black above them, the only thing she’s thinking of is getting away from Harry.  Stupid, self-absorbed, ignorant, and rude Harry.

“Y/N—” The sound of Harry scrambling out of the car and slamming the door behind him pushes her to walk faster. “Y/N, come back—”

Y/N turns around on her heel fast and hard, heart pounding so fast that she thinks it might break through her ribs. “What is your problem?” She hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Why do you insist on being so—so nasty about him?  You don’t even know him!”

Harry freezes where he is as the wind whips his hair around his face, his bandana barely keeping the messy curls in place. “I don’t—” His speech falters, and he sucks in a sharp breath before continuing. “I don’t think I’m being…nasty.”

“Well, you are!” Y/N takes a deep breath in, placing her hands over her stomach as it expands with air.  It’s a trick that Jo taught her back in high school, as a way to ground herself to her body. Feeling the movement of air in and out of her lungs helps calm her, even if by just a fraction. “Brant is just—he’s someone I’m talking to.  We’ve gone on dates, but we’re not dating, and even though we’re not dating, that doesn’t mean that you can insinuate things about him, or eavesdrop on our private conversations!”

Harry’s jaw tenses as he listens to Y/N speak, waiting until she’s finished her speech to respond in a harsh and clipped tone. “I already told you, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. And I’m teasing you.  It’s supposed to be a joke.  Isn’t that what friends do?”

“But we’re not friends, Harry.” Y/N’s voice is flat, the fury in her tone replaced with a hollow emptiness. “We’re not friends.  I don’t need you teasing me about a boy like we’re buddies, or whatever, because we’re not.”

Although Harry opens his mouth to respond, no words cross over the edges of his pink lips.  His jaw tightens even more as he closes his mouth again, and Y/N can see a million things flitting through his green irises, which are getting darker by the moment.  Y/N’s not certain if the darkness is from her words, or the black sky rolling above them that’s sapping the light of day from the atmosphere, and she’s not sure if she can take the answer either way.  Part of her knows that maybe—just maybe—she’s blown this whole thing out of proportion, and maybe she should examine why Harry making fun of Brant bothers her like it does.  It’s not like she’s unaware of his shortcomings, she thinks, but then she wonders why she’s now seeing them as shortcomings, when a week ago, she saw them as positives.  Y/N never has to worry about Brant being too much for her, or forgetful, or scatterbrained—he’s organized, and secure, and stable, and that’s what she likes.  It’s always been what she likes.

Harry’s delayed response tears Y/N from her thoughts. “Not friends.  Got it.” He mutters, rubbing his hand over his stubbled and taut cheeks. “Just get back in the car, then.  Let’s go.”

…

“Hello!  My name is Gracie, I’ll be your server today.” The waitress in the tiny diner smiles at Harry and Y/N, a notepad in one hand and a half filled coffee pot in the other. “Can I get you guys anything to start?”

“Coffee.” Harry and Y/N speak at the same time, each person’s eyes flickering to the other before looking away.  Y/N keeps her eyes focused on her off-white ceramic coffee cup as Gracie fills it, refusing to make eye contact with Harry again.

The last hour has been almost unbearable.  After they got back in the car, Harry had turned off his playlist, and for the first time since the road trip had begun, true silence had fallen between them. Y/N had thought she would like it, but truthfully, it had been the worst thing she’d ever heard.  Every few minutes, she’d hear Harry shift, or sigh, or tap a tense finger against the gear shift, and she wished that she could say something, but she didn’t.  She couldn’t.  She’d been grateful when he wordlessly exited the highway and parked in front of a diner, as the conversations of stopped truck drivers and the clatter of a kitchen was a good distraction from their argument.

A movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention, and Y/N glances up just enough to watch Harry slip a pat of butter into his coffee, stirring the contents of the cup with his spoon until it’s melted together.  She wrinkles her nose in disgust, and almost opens her mouth to make a comment (“Really, Harry?  Just add milk like a regular person, instead of drinking a cup of grease.”), but bites it back before it can fall off her tongue.  They’re not exactly in the position to make quips to each other, she thinks, especially after she told him that they weren’t friends.

Which they’re not. They’ve never been friends; that fact isn’t exactly news.  Not getting along has been Harry and Y/N’s signature since the day they first met. So why is there a pit in Y/N’s stomach that gets deeper every time Harry looks away from her?

The click of heels alerts Y/N of Gracie’s returned presence before her voice does. “Have you two decided what you’d like to eat?”

“I’ll have a turkey club, please, on whole wheat bread.” Harry folds up his plastic menu carefully. “And a glass of water on the side.”

Gracie nods, taking the menu from him before turning her eyes to Y/N. “And for yourself?”

“Um—” Y/N had barely glanced at the menu, too lost in her thoughts to think about it. “I’ll just have a burger, please.  And a water, as well.”

Gracie nods as she writes down the order, taking Y/N’s menu and giving the pair one last smile before disappearing to the kitchen.  A fresh wave of silence falls between Harry and Y/N as each of them sips their coffee, both of them doing their best not to look at the person sitting across from them.

Y/N’s best, however, is not up to her usual standard, as she can’t stop herself from stealing a few quick glances while Harry looks out the window.  He hasn’t shaved in a couple days, she notices, as the stubble on his cheeks and chin is even darker than it was the day before.  There’s a permanent crease between his eyebrows, his face as tense as she’s ever seen it, and a darkness over his whole expression overall. It’s like there’s a new wall up between the two of them, and Y/N’s never felt more detached from him.  Which, honestly, is saying something.

She’s looking back down at her own half empty coffee when Harry finally speaks a few minutes later, his voice just as tense as his expression.

“Shit.” He says in a low voice, and then the next sound Y/N hears is that of someone ruffling through pockets.  

She looks up to see Harry doing just that, his hands digging through the outer pockets of his army green jacket. “What?” She asks, her curiosity outweighing her need to continue the silent treatment. “What is it?”

“I had the vows in my—my pocket, but they’re—” Harry jams his hands inside a pocket sewn into the lining of his jacket, and Y/N watches as his face visibly relaxes. “Oh, thank God. I thought they fell out.”

Harry removes his hand from his pocket, two folded up notes clutched within his hand.  Each one is labeled carefully, one with Jo written in Laure’s neat penmanship, and the other with Laure scribbled in Jo’s quick writing.  

Y/N recognizes the papers immediately.  It’s easy, really, considering the amount of time she spent helping Jo rewrite draft after draft of the same sentiments. “You have Jo and Laure’s vows?” She questions, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “Why?”

“The same reason you have their wedding bands.” Harry shrugs as he turns the papers over in his careful fingers, making sure not to crease them. “They forgot them.”

A small smile plays on the edge of Y/N’s lips at the memory of her forgetful friends. “Right.  Of course.”

Harry’s eyes flicker to Y/N’s mouth at the sign of movement, and he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth before responding. “Want to take a look?”

“At their vows?” Y/N looks around, as if someone could be watching and monitoring them. “I—that doesn’t seem right.”

“Fine.  Then don’t look at them.” Harry says easily, setting the note labeled Laure on the table between them.  His nimble fingers unfold the paper labeled with Jo’s name as his green irises begin to scan across the sheet. “I’ll read them.”

It only takes a few seconds of watching Harry read over the words for Y/N to crack. “Wait.” She brings her thumb to her mouth, chewing anxiously on her cuticle as Harry quirks an eyebrow at her. “Will you read them to me?”

When she asks, Harry spends so long staring at her that Y/N thinks he’ll refuse.  His jade eyes meet hers with an intensity that almost makes her flinch, but Y/N holds his stare, refusing to be the first to back down. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Harry gives a sharp nod, looking down at the note before he starts to read from the beginning.

“‘My darling Jo’,” He begins, his voice soft and low, his accent thick. “‘It seems so strange that this day is finally here.  I feel like we’ve been building up to it ever since the day we first met, and yet it’s always seemed so far away.  When I was a little girl, I always’…” Harry trails off as his eyes continue to move across the words, and he clears his throat before attempting to continue to read aloud. “‘I always thought that there was something wrong with me.  I thought that the things that I felt, and the way that I loved, was dirty.  I thought it was wrong.  I thought that—that I was going against God, and against nature, and that I was going to be punished for it.  And then I met you’.”

Harry pauses to take a sip of his coffee, and Y/N does the same.  There’s a shine beginning to appear in his eyes, and Y/N recognizes it as the beginning of tears because she feels the same thing brimming in her own eyes. She feels a bit guilty for reading the vows, but reasons that it’s for the best.  If she were to hear them for the first time at the wedding, she doesn’t think she’d be able to keep it together.

“‘The moment I met you, I knew that the way I loved could never be wrong, or be dirty, because I was loving you’.” Harry’s accent grows thicker the more he reads, and although Y/N hasn’t seem Harry in many different emotional states, she can tell that this is a sign of how the vows are affecting him. “‘Being with you could never be wrong, and God could never get mad at me for it, because only God could create someone as perfect as you.  I promise to love you when you wake me up at 3 A.M. because you’ve stolen all the blankets, and I promise to love you at 6 P.M. when you almost burn down our apartment while trying to cook for me.  I promise to support you through everything, listen to your stories, and watch in wonder as you make a difference in this world.  I promise to never let my anger get the best of me, and to always give you the benefit of the doubt.  I promise to love every version of yourself that you grow into, just as I’ve loved all the versions you once were.  I promise to love you in every way humanly possible, and even in ways that aren’t humanly possible.  I promise to love, period.  I’—” Harry’s voice cracks, and he glances up at Y/N as he clears his throat to continue. “‘I love you’.”

Y/N doesn’t realize just how emotional listening to Harry read Laure’s vows has made her until the first tear wells over the corner of her eye.  She turns her head towards the window to wipe it away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, but from the way Harry is looking at her when she turns back around, she knows that he caught what she was doing.

“That, um—” Now it’s Y/N’s turn to attempt to clear the emotion from her throat. “Wow.”

Harry carefully folds Laure’s vows back up, taking extra care to re-crease the paper exactly how it had been folded. “I didn’t know she…felt like that.” Harry says after a moment, his voice quiet. “Like she was…wrong.”

Y/N, unsure of what to say, just nods while reaching for Jo’s vows in front of her.  Like Harry, she takes great care when unfolding the paper, smoothing it gently between her hands. “I’ll read Jo’s, then?”

Harry nods as he takes a sip of his water. “Sure.”

Y/N licks her lips once, wetting them with what little saliva she has in her mouth before beginning. “‘Laure’,” She starts, emotion already rising up to form a lump in her throat. “‘I don’t even know where to begin.  I’ve tried to write down all the ways I love you a million different times, but I can never seem to find the right words.  The problem is, I don’t think that there is a big enough word to describe what I feel for you.  ‘Love’ is only four letters, and four letters is just not enough to contain everything I feel.  ‘Adoration’ is nine letters, but even that doesn’t come close.  I think the best way I can describe it is ‘permanent’.” Y/N pauses her reading to take a long gulp of water, the coolness soothing the dry and parched feeling in her mouth and throat. “‘Anyone who knows me knows that I have trouble committing.  The idea of having something forever, of being in one place, normally terrifies me. But the idea of having you forever, and being in one place with you forever…that’s all I want.  I want us to be permanent to each other.  Even when we struggle, and we will struggle, I know that we won’t fall apart.  Committing to you isn’t any trouble.  It’s as easy as breathing.  I’m sure of you, and I’m sure of us.  I love you, permanently.  I’ll love you when you’re sick and gross, and I’ll love you when you’re old with a bad hip.” A small laugh falls out of Y/N’s mouth before she continues. “I’ll love you when you haggle at flea markets for the best prices, and I’ll love you when you do something so stupid that it makes me want to tear my hair out.  I love you permanently, and I want all of our family and friends to witness me saying that.  I’ll never back out, or bail, or run away from you.  You’re the one thing in my life that’s never felt hard. You’re my home base, and my north star, and you bring me back down to Earth whenever I need it.  I love you permanently, Laure.  I’ll never stop’.”

As she finishes reading, Y/N folds the paper back up, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand before grabbing the other note sitting on the table.  She pushes them towards Harry, her misty eyes unable to meet his. “Here. Put these away again, somewhere safe.”

Harry takes the vows from her, slipping them back inside his inner jacket pocket for safekeeping. “It’s probably—” He clears his throat once more, and Y/N knows that the vows have caught him in his chest just as they’ve caught her. “It’s probably good that we read them now, so that we’re…prepared for the ceremony.”

“Yeah.” Y/N wraps her hands around her coffee mug, the warm ceramic surface heating her cold fingers. “You’re right.  They really…love each other.”

Harry taps his fingers against the table top, a concentrative and thoughtful expression on his face.  His eyebrows are knit together above his stormy green eyes, and his pink tongue swipes over his pinker lips once before he speaks. “You know, Laure is my closest friend.  I don’t want her to get hurt.”

Immediately registering the tone of Harry’s voice, Y/N’s head snaps up, her own eyes becoming stormy as they meet his own. “Jo would never hurt Laure.” Y/N says defensively, the hairs on the back of her neck pricking up at even the suggestion of her friend hurting someone. “Didn’t you hear her vows?  I’ve never heard her sound so sure of something in her entire life.”

Harry’s jaw flexes at the cadence of Y/N’s voice, and his is just as agitated when he responds. “I’m just saying, if anything ever happened—”

“And I’m just saying, it won’t.” The tension between them doubles as Y/N shoots Harry an icy glare. “Do you just look for the worst in people?  Is that all you do?”

“You think I look for the worst in people?  Really?” Harry barks out a harsh laugh, pressing one hand flat against the table as the other fixes his bandana. “Christ, if that’s what you think of me—”

“Why would I think anything else?” Y/N asks incredulously, tilting her head to the side as she regards him. “All you’ve shown me is—”

“Alright, I have the turkey club on whole wheat, and the burger here.” Gracie appears suddenly to Y/N’s right, her tray loaded with food. “Here you guys are…” She sets the plates down in front of Harry and Y/N, her gaze darting between them nervously as she reads the tension in the booth. “Is…there anything else I can get you two?”

“No.” Harry’s voice is hard. “We don’t need anything else.”

…

By the time Harry pulls the car into a motel just off the highway in Lexington, Nebraska, all Y/N wants is a moment alone.  The strained atmosphere during that day’s drive had been unbearable, and between the anxiety from her confrontation with Harry and the sound of thunder beginning in the distance, Y/N just needs some space to herself to relax and calm down.

Of course, just because that’s what she needs, doesn’t mean that she’s going to get it.  When Harry returns back to the car with a single key in his hand and a sour look on his face, Y/N knows for sure that the universe is against her.

This room, at least, she’s pleased to find, has two actual beds, which are pushed up against the wall perpendicular to the door with a small night table between them.  However, that’s where her pleasure stops, as the click of Harry turning the lock behind her just reminds her that she’s trapped in here, with no chance to get away from Harry, the oncoming storm, or any one of her problems that have developed over the last four days.  The reality of the situation hits her all at once, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control to toss her bag on the bed and walk brusquely to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her before she allows herself to show a sign of her emotions.

The rest of the evening passes in silence.  She showers before changing into her sports bra and boxers, but the amount of exposed skin sends a vulnerable shiver down her spine.  Y/N opts for pulling a sweatshirt over her body, and then sets herself the task of braiding her hair to distract herself.  After that’s done, she busies herself with her skincare routine, taking up as much time as she can in the bathroom before she absolutely has to leave its private interior.

Harry, however, seems to want to see as little of Y/N as she wants to see of him, and pushes past her to enter the bathroom the moment that she steps out of it.  His routine, it seems, is designed to take up just as much time as hers was, because by the time Harry exits the bathroom, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him, Y/N is already tucked under the covers of her bed, although she’s far from asleep.

In the time it took for her to shower and get ready for bed, the storm had picked up, and the only thing audible in the room was the sound of rain pelting against the roof and window, the wind howling through the trees, and Y/N’s shallow, uneven breaths. She wraps the sheets tightly around herself, pulling them taut to her chin with clenched fists that tighten every time a clap of thunder echoes through the room.  Although she’s turned to face the wall, away from Harry, she can hear his footsteps pause as he gets a glimpse of her shivering form beneath the blankets, and she does her best to will herself to appear asleep.  Breathing in as deeply as her tight chest will allow her, Y/N attempts to even her breathing, forcing her shoulders rise and fall in a way that appears natural and normal.  But all it takes is one clap of thunder for the controlled motion to go out the window.

“Y/N…” Harry’s voice is low, but despite its raspy cadence, it lacks the rough edge that it had earlier. The bed behind her squeaks, signalling that Harry’s taken a seat on the edge of it. “Are you—?”

“I-I’m fine.” Y/N says quickly, pulling the sheets tighter to her chin as another shiver rolls through her body. “Go to sleep.”

There’s another creak of Harry’s bed, and Y/N imagines him climbing under the starched linen covers, his damp curls flopping into his eyes as he lays back on the lumpy motel pillow. The image is almost enough to distract her until there’s another clap of thunder.  The sound seems to shake the motel room, and Y/N can’t stop the small whimper that leaves her lips as her body jumps in response.

“When I was a little kid, my mum took my sister and I to the fair every year.”

Harry’s deep voice cuts over the rain, and Y/N shifts in her bed, turning over to face him.  She keeps the covers pulled up to her chin, but readjusts herself so that she can keep her head on her pillow while looking Harry in the eye. “What?” She asks, confusion audible in her quiet tone.

Harry shifts himself as she does, continuing to move down until he’s completely horizontal, with one hand tucked under his pillow as he speaks. “My mum took my sister and I to the fair.  It came to Holmes Chapel every spring, and there were always rides, and games to play, and so many things to see.  It drew crowds from nearby villages every year, really big crowds, and my mum always held my hand tightly so I wouldn’t get lost.”

“I don’t understand, what—” Another clap of thunder shakes the room, making Y/N flinch halfway through her sentence.

“You’re okay.” Harry says immediately, his calm jade eyes focused on her as the reassurance slips from his mouth.  He waits a moment, gauging Y/N’s body language and waiting for his examination to be positive before resuming his story. “So…my mum always told me not to wander off, but when I was six, I did.  I saw some older kids playing games that I wanted to play, and Gemma was busy playing some sort of game with a ball—I can’t really remember what—and when my mum turned her back, I ran off.”

Y/N’s about to open her mouth to ask why he’s telling her the story when the answer clicks into place in her head.  She thinks back to the conversation in the car the day before, how she told Harry that it helps when someone talks to her to distract her from the thunder.  That’s what he’s doing, she realizes, as she forces herself to focus on his quiet and level voice.  He’s trying to keep her calm, even after everything she said and did today.

“I don’t look like it now,” A small smile flits across Harry’s blushed lips. “But I was pretty scrawny back then.  And all the people around me were so tall, my eyes were barely level with their hips. Everyone was rushing around, going in all directions, and I kept calling for my mum, but she couldn’t hear me.  No one stopped to help me.  I felt like I was…trapped.  Like it was a huge forest of legs, running all around me, circling me, and I couldn’t get out.  I was probably only gone for five minutes, but to a six year old, it felt like an eternity.  And just something about it…I don’t know.  It changed me.  I still don’t like crowds because of that day.”

Y/N’s shoulders unclench the slightest bit as another gust of wind blows against the window. “That must have been scary.”

Harry’s own shoulders lift in a slight shrug as he shifts the sheet to cover him more. “It was. But I can’t change it.  I just have to deal with the repercussions of it. That’s all a fear is, really.  A side effect.  We just have to deal with them as best we can.”

More thunder booms loudly outside, but Y/N manages to keep her flinch to a minimum, despite her hands curling into fists again under the covers. “Harry…” She whispers his name into the darkness between them, his outline barely visible save for his green eyes. “I’m—I’m sorry about today.”

Harry shakes his head, his damp hair rubbing against his pillow. “You don’t have to apologize.” He whispers back, his tone as gentle as she’s ever heard it. “I was an arse.  I shouldn��t have pushed the topic.”

“I shouldn’t have been so uptight about it.” Rubbing her eyes with one fist, Y/N lets out a low sigh. “I felt so shitty all day because of our fight.  I’ve never…none of our fights have ever made me feel like that.”

“Maybe it’s because…” Harry’s tentative voice trails off, his eyes flickering to the ground for a brief moment before staring back at Y/N nervously. “I don’t know.  I thought we were getting along better.  For a moment, at least.”

“We were.” Y/N’s teeth tug on her bottom lip, and she feels a sudden shyness overcome her at the admission. “I’m sorry I said that we…weren’t friends.  I think…I don’t know.  I’ve been stubborn for so long, but I can see now that you’re different than I thought you were.”

“Yeah.  Me too.  I was wrong, too.” Harry runs a hand through his damp curls, a soft laugh leaving his mouth. “How did we even end up like this?  I barely remember what made us hate each other so much in the beginning.”

“Seriously?” Y/N raises an eyebrow, barely peaking out from beneath the sheets as another clap of thunder sounds. “You don’t remember?”

Harry mimics her expression. “Do you?”

“Yes!  It was the very first night we met.  We had that double date with Laure and Jo.” Shifting beneath her covers, Y/N moves herself into a better position on her side, so she can be more comfortable while still maintaining eye contact with Harry. “And you were rude, and made inappropriate jokes, and you left in the middle of the date to go chat up a sorority girl!”

“Wait a minute, no!” Harry protests the memory, half sitting up in his bed as he speaks. “That’s not what happened!”

“Yes, it is!” A small laugh falls off Y/N’s lips at his indignant reaction. “I remember it perfectly!”

“No, you remember it wrong!” Although a flush creeps up Harry’s neck, there’s an amused smile playing on his lips, a tiny hint of a dimple just barely appearing in his visible cheek. “I was making jokes to try and break the ice, which didn’t work on the Ice Queen, it seems—” Harry motions to Y/N teasingly. “And you’re the one who started talking to some bloke before I started talking to that girl!”

Another clap of thunder echoes through the room, but Y/N hardly notices as she thinks back to the night they met, and who Harry could possibly be referring to. “A bloke—?  He was a classmate of mine!  I had to talk to him!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to enjoy it so much.” Harry grumbles, crossing his muscled arms over his sheets. “I had been so excited when Laure said she had an American girl for me, and then—”

“You were excited?” Y/N asks, her voice laced with surprise. “Really?”

The flush on Harry’s neck works its way to the apples of his cheeks. “Well, yeah.” He mumbles the words as his eyes drop from Y/N’s, slipping both hands beneath his head. “She said that you were funny, intelligent, witty, beautiful—”

“And then you met me, and realized that it was all a lie?” Y/N finishes for him, rolling her eyes in the darkness.

“No.” Harry gives a small shake of his head as his body shifts, the motel bed creaking under his weight. “No, she wasn’t wrong.  You were all of those things.  But I wasn’t, and it seemed like…I don’t know.  Like you didn’t think I was good enough for you.  I couldn’t keep your attention.”

The teasing smile slips from Y/N’s face as she registers Harry’s words. “You thought that I thought you weren’t…good enough?”

The nervousness is clear in Harry’s voice now, even over the pounding of rain against the window. “That’s what it seemed like, yeah.”

“I never—I didn’t think that.” Y/N says slowly, managing to relax her body beneath the sheets as she keeps her focus on the memory of meeting Harry. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be there, but that’s because Jo set the date up without telling me.  I thought you were handsome, and I liked your accent, but then you started to act weird, and you started flirting with that girl, so I thought you were an ass.”

“You still think I’m an arse, princess, be honest.” The teasing tone replaces the nerves, and for once, Harry’s joke has the intended affect on Y/N.  When she rolls her eyes again, it’s more playful, and the same tone is in her voice when she responds.

“I told you, don’t call me princess.” She replies, running her teeth over her lip gently. “So…I guess we both kind of fucked up that day.”

“Yeah.” Harry nods, a sheepish smile playing over his red lips. “I guess so.”

“Can we just restart?” Y/N’s voice is small when she asks the question, barely audible over the sounds of the storm raging outside. “Like, all the way from the beginning. No more grudges, no more yelling. Even if it’s just for this trip, for Jo and Laure—”

“It doesn’t have to be just for this trip.” Harry cuts in, his eyes catching Y/N’s again. “We’re going to have to be around each other for a long time.  It’ll be a lot easer if we get along.”

Y/N nods in agreement, tugging down her covers to extend one arm towards Harry.  She makes a fist, holding out just her pinkie finger to him with half a grin on her face. “Truce?”

The space between their beds is small, and Harry’s long arm easily makes it across the no man’s land to meet Y/N’s pinkie with his own.  He loops it together with a smile that matches hers, tired and content and just at the edge of a humble new beginning.  Harry’s response is almost inaudible as thunder booms loudly outside the room, but Y/N can still pick out the cadence of his accent under the noise.

“Truce.”

(pt II)

[mythiccheroacademia]

Hey!! Could we please get more sugar daddy fics with a black reader ofc 😋 idk if you've done shoto already but that'd be nice or hawks and deku💕

A/N: “wrist on glitter, waist on thinner, imma show you how to bag a eight-figure nigga” 👅💋 I enjoyed this way too much

All characters are 18+

Warnings: it got a lil spicy so imma put the line 

Todoroki Shouto:

this mf has money to burn 

we all know todoroki came out the womb w cash from his hair to his ass 

he’s on some “yes, jeff bezos knows me” type shit so if you’re tryna end up with someone that’s gonna possibly buy you a house, he’s your guy 

he slid into your dms after you posted a pic with your skin moisturized and glistening under golden hour and your body had him wanting to run laps 

he had been plottin on you for a min but never got the motivation to do something about it until then

he’s a no strings attached type of sugar daddy

todoroki is a big name even outside of hero work and he’s well aware of all the people that have tried to use him. so instead of letting that happen, he’s decided to do things on his own terms 

when yall first started talking, he questioned you like this was managerial position at apple 💀 

best believe he ran an in-depth background check and made you sign an NDA 💀💀💀

he was a tough one

but you passed w flying colors and y’all settled on an arrangement

you have a weekly allowance that hits your bank account every saturday with some bonuses that he’ll give you depending on how the week goes

todoroki isnt needy nor is he one to be all up in your business 

it’s actually weird in an endearing kind of way? 

he only wants to have conversations with you 

i mean, dont get me wrong, he’s up for anything you are

todoroki would be a liar if he said he never ended some nights with a picture of you and a hand down his pants 

but that’s not what he’s mainly looking for 

you figure out very quickly that shouto just wants someone to talk to 

he’ll randomly hit up your phone and have a 30 min convo about something like the weather or hero politics, and then he’ll dip

next thing you know, you got $1000 in your cashapp

you kind of panicked bc like...wtf? 

your dumb ass messaged him: “did you mean to send $1000?”

sis, dont put a question mark where God put a period

him: “Yes.”

and that was the end of that

you dont question anymore

he’s not doting in any kind of way, and sometimes you lowkey think he forgets about you, but you still get your allowance 

doesn’t send a lot of gifts unless you explicitly state you want something

he doesnt text back a lot, but he tried to respond when he can

but i do see him liking it when you send him mundane things you do throughout your day, like pics of cookies you baked, or a cool plant you saw at home depot

and he enjoys the times you and him end up just trashing his father for nearly an hour. expect to find flowers, with some expensive ass coats or something at your door the next morning 

he really fucks w your laid back vibe 

sometimes he forgets you guys arent really supposed to be friends 

Takami Kiego (Hawks):

this is not hawks’ first time being a sugar daddy

he’s hot, rich, and one of the most eligible bachelor’s in japan with a life that prevents him from having anything too serious

so, long story short, he’s a veteran at this 

he used to be the type to reach out to instagram baddies but he had a couple bad run-ins and decided to stick with the official sites because it was a lot more secure on both ends 

the funny thing was, you set up your account a long time ago as a joke. though at one point, you did take it seriously, but you came in contact with a lot of super creepy men that sexualized you for your skin and ethnicity. 

you were tired of the “chocolate king/queen” and “amazonian god/dess” comments,so you took a break. you didnt have much activity since

so imagine youre surprise when the #2 hero hit your line talking about some 

“Hey~ I’ll get straight to the point. I think you’re beautiful and I’d like to talk with you about an arrangement” 

you thought this was a fake account, but after he chatting for a little and sending some pictures, you knew he was the real deal 

hawks is your standard tit-for-tat transaction sugar daddy

he’s the type to hit you up at night with a “how ya doing, dove? got any pics for me?”

he’s good about his respect ad won’t do anything out of line

it’s the bare minimum, be he doesnt fetishize you so that’s always nice 

however, he does make you call him daddy, sir, etc. whether it’s through text, call, or when y’all get together for...reasons

ngl his dicc game is fire

he might ghost you for a week or so but he’ll always come back with a nice check to make up for it 

just be careful about catching feelings bc he’s so fucking smooth. he makes you feel like you’ve got his heart, but dont fall for that shit

if you think you can “change him” or fuflfil whatever wattpad romance fantasy lives in your head, he is not your guy. you better get on w your life before you get your heart broken

he’s here to suck, fuck, send pics, do a little phone call here n there, send some money, and go 

if you’re not with all that, you might as well dip 

but if you’re cool with that, rest assured, you’re gonna be living your best mf life with this man in your wallet 

and good news, you might not be his only, but you are his favorite

there’s just something about you that’s got him giving you a few extra thousand than he normally does 

he doesnt take his sugar babies on proper dates bc he’s gotta stay away from media outlets, but he will invite you to his office for a “lunch break”

if you ever surprise him with a cute but sexy hawks cosplay, you won’t have to work for two whole weeks bc you cant walk  

overall, he’s a good sugar daddy. defintely good for your pockets and any other non-romantic desires you want fulfilled

Mirodirya Izuku:  

the way you two met and came to this arrangement was more or less an accident

the life of the number one pro-hero was lonely and stressful 

he’s tried to dip his toes in the water here and there, but it never worked out because not many people could deal with the fact that he’d always put hero work first

he was teetering on the edge of signing up for one of those sugar daddy/baby websites until he met you at some cafe he passed by 

it’s cliche really. you were his server and, honestly? he was hooked on day one 

he watched you intently as you pranced around in your cute uniform. he couldnt stop admiring your brown skin and eyes and how cute your hair was. you spoke with such enthusiasm and cheerfulness that he couldnt help but swoon. and it didn’t hurt that you were very easy on the eyes

he listened to you as you went on a spiel about how college was a fortune and how you stayed up last night for a project bc you had to pick up extra shifts

that’s when he made his decision

by the time the hero is out of the door, you collected the reciept and almost fainted when you realized he left you a $500 tip and his personal number 

“i enjoyed talking to you today and i hope we can continue that...here’s something small to help with your bills. and i hope this isnt too forward but you’re very beautiful. stay safe. deku.”

and what did you do that night?

you called his ass right back

you were nervous as hell bc you still couldnt believe this was real, but after talking on the phone with him for two hours, an arrangement was set

midoriya is the most gentlemen like sugar daddy out there 

you wake up to good morning texts and a few hundred in your bank account almost every two days 

he goes crazy over your insta posts. and if you wear something green? expect a bonus

takes you out shopping unprovoked 

izuku: “are you busy? i saw you were having a rough week and was wondering if you wanted to go to that new outlet mall downtown”

you: 🏃🏾‍♀️💨  

you most certainly had homework due that night but what tf you look like missing out on that offer? 

it’s after so many “dates” that deku realizes that he prefers hanging around you more than he should but he doesnt wanna ruin anything so he keeps that underwraps 

he’s the idiot that goes into this thinking he won’t fall in love

deku defintely has some dirty thoughts about you but he doesnt try to bring it up unless you do first

if you’re comfortable with anything nsfw, you gone see a whole different side to izuku

he’s a giver, giver, giver, but when he recieves, he just about loses it

send him “innocent” pics of yourself matched with a string of filthy texts and he’ll combust 

when you send him pics of yourself in deku-themed lingre, he deadass sends you a whole black card with your name on it as a thank you

you guys get very comfortable with each other very quickly

soon enough, DA’s start turning into y/n stayng over for a week 

you both realize this relatiosnhip runs a lot deeper than an arrangement when he accidentally let it slip that he told his mom about you 

he’s profusely apologizing but you shut him up with a kiss and tell him that you’ve kinda caught feelings yourself 

your next conversation works out well for the both of you 

[fictionalabyss]

Saltine.

Pairing : Crowley x Plussize!Reader

Word count : 1,930

Warnings : AU (Crowley isn't a demon but is super fucking rich), Cam girl, Cam show, drinking, partial nudity

Header by : @sorenmarie87, as always. She's the best and I adore her and her work.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

The internet was filled with so many girls thinking they could get rich quick just by taking off their clothes. Like they were something special, something to behold. But really, they were one in a billion. Forgettable. Nothing different from the next person.

You were one in thousands. Slightly better odds.

Being a BBW, while nothing overly special on it’s own, did do one thing for you. People who ended up in your room knew what they wanted. They wanted a curvaceous goddess in their face. Curves and softness, something you had plenty of. The pool of plus size cam girls was smaller than the pool of everyone else.

Beyond that, you did what people paid you to do. If a guy paid you to fill your room with balloons and pop them one after another by sitting on them, you did it. Rub lotion all over your stomach and then spit on it, sure. Wear clothes that were two sizes too small, why not.

Tonight was kind of like that. Packages from a few regulars had shown up in your PObox, and one of them had contained a bottle of booze. Glencraig, a scotch whiskey you’d never heard of until James showed up in your chat room and paid for a private show where you drank and talked with him for an hour about two months ago. Now you had your own bottle. So you had taken a picture of it sitting between your legs, put it as your profile pic on the site and titled your chat “Me and Craig. Let’s see where this goes.”

Crowley’s bored and frustrated. The office is empty and he’s supposed to be working but he’s pent up. It’s been a long day of morons fucking shit up and he needed a god damn break. Billions of dollars at his disposal and he still couldn’t buy good fucking help to run his business.

He’s scrolling through women, looking for someone to catch his eye and quickly realizing he doesn’t think anyone will. They’re all the same. Once you’ve had one, you’d had them all, and he’s had plenty in his time. Fergus McLeod was no innocent. He was the farthest thing from it.

With a grunt of disapproval, he started looking for something different, hoping for something new. Key words being typed into searches, but nothing catching his eye in half of those either. Not for long, anyways. ‘BBW’ was a keyword he’d hit. Not many girls online, some of them into some niche things that he’d honestly consider, but all their pictures were the same. Every single one.

Except one. It had him leaning closer, trying to read the label. Interested enough in that at least, he hit join. What he found inside made his cock twitch.

A dark leather chair, not too different from one he  sat in himself. Smooth thick thighs he found himself wanting to bite into. And between them? The item that had taken hold of his interest, the reason he’d clicked to join. Glencraig. The bottle was freshly opened from the looks of it, about three fingers missing, so probably only on her second glass at most. He leaned in again, trying to get a closer look at the label. A soft curse fell from his lips when he saw the numbers 1974, and then ‘Aged 34 Years’. His cock twitched again, and he found himself reaching down to grip it through his slacks.

It was a close up of the bottle right now, and he wasn’t complaining. No one complained when she went to refill her glass, either. A whiskey glass was brought down to her thigh, then the bottle was brought out of where it was nestled, and a bare pussy was exposed. Chimes rang through his office, followed by a soft giggle as she poured, and then the bottle was placed back down, her pussy hidden once more behind the amber liquid and the black label. Then the camera moved.

It was tilted up more, following the glass as it was brought up to her lips and she took another sip. A shiver ran down her spine as it burned, and Crowley found himself smiling along with her. He heard another chime, then her laugh again. The tip amounted to about 75$, give or take.

“James, don’t be absurd, you already paid for the bottle.” She spoke as she pushed the camera back, giving a full view. Bottle between her legs and that seductive smile on her lips.

A message came up in the chat that read ‘Maybe I want you to be able to get yourself another. Hey guys! Let’s get her enough to order another bottle so we can have another night like this!’

The chat sped up, messages agreeing with the sentiment, and more chimes of tips being given for the cause. Another giggle came from her lips as she brought the glass back up to her mouth.

Not to be out done, Crowley made a donation of his own.

You were smiling, giggling, happy that everyone seemed to enjoy the theme of the room tonight. Glad that James approved of how you used his gift. You tilted the glass back just as a few chimes went off signaling more donations, and one of them made you choke on the scotch and spit it out. You stared at the screen, stunned as the liquid ran down off your chin.

Who the fuck was TheKing, and why did he just drop what had to be about 2 grand on you?

A new alert sounded, and you noticed you had a DM. Speak of the devil.

>> TheKing : From one Glencraig lover to another. I hope you enjoy it, love.

You stared at it, still in shock. In all your time as a cam girl, on here, on BBW specific sites, nothing like this had ever happened before. People bought gifts, sure, but this?

>> TheKing : Breathe, darling. >> TheKing : Don’t forget to breathe.

Realizing you had just been sitting there staring at the screen, you wiped your chin off and licked your lips, trying to collect yourself. The main chat was blowing up, you weren’t the only one dealing with shock and awe with what just happened.

“Uhm.” you breathed out awkwardly, not sure what to say, how to react. Was this real? “All hail The King?” an awkward chuckle followed the words, but the chat room was filled with messages of ‘all hail TheKing!’  “Should I bow.. or..” you joked, with a shy smile.

>> TheKing : No need to bow, love. >> TheKing : Though I wouldn’t say no to a conversation.

A soft smile graced your lips before you typed out your answer.

<< Saltine : We’re having a conversation. >> TheKing : I was thinking something a little more face to face. >> TheKing : I hear your voice, you hear mine.

You licked your lips, the general chat room forgotten for the moment. With money he dropped on you, your undivided attention for a moment was the least you could do.

<< Saltine : I don’t meet people from the site in person. It’s a safety issue, I’m sure you understand.

Three little dots in the corner let you know he was typing almost immediately.

>> TheKing : I wouldn’t expect you to, love. I meant more of a chat where I have my camera on too. Make it a little more intimate. I don’t mind paying for a private show where you don’t need to show anything. I would just like a drink with you.

You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment, considering the offer. Private shows didn’t really happen a whole lot, but when they did, it was charged by the minute so it was worth the time. You found yourself using your thumb to crack the knuckle of your index finger, and then your middle one before you nodded. “Yeah, we can do a private chat.” you spoke, letting the chatroom know your cam would be shutting off in there in a minute.

>> TheKing : You just made me a very happy man, darling. Whenever you’re ready, you let me know.

You were chewing on your lip as you waited for his cam to kick in. It was a moment of black before a bright light seemed to come on, and quickly it shifted. There was black in the middle of brightness, and then slowly the light seemed to adjust. It was a window. A massive window. As the lighting adjusted, you found yourself looking at a man in a suit and behind him, a city skyscape all laid out for him.  Glancing at the time, you wondered where in the world he was. Was it evening like where you were, the sun still holding on and not yet ready to set, or was that a morning glow behind him. Either way, it looked beautiful.

The man himself was something to behold. Not stunningly beautiful, not young and fit like some of the guys who popped up on camera for you, but captivating. He seemed to demand attention, radiating power. He was someone. A few very short hairs touched his forehead, he had a short beard as well, one you had the urge to run your fingertips over. Dark piercing eyes that you felt burning into you as one side of his mouth turned up into a smirk at your reaction of seeing him.

“H-hi.” you stuttered, then curse yourself for it.

His smile only widened. He brought a glass up, and that’s when you noticed the bottle on his desk. The same as the bottle still sitting between your thighs. He took a sip, then placed the glass down on the dark wood. “Why Saltine?” he asked, and you felt your stomach flutter at the accent.

“Because I’m so fucking salty all the time?” You gave him a shy smile. “Why TheKing? What are you the king of?”

“Your dreams.” He answered without hesitation and a fuck ton of confidence. He was cocky, he knew the effect he had on people and how to use it. “If you wish it.”

“Tempting.” you try to tease, lifting your own glass to your lips. “Why me?” you ask before sipping.

“Glencraig. Aged 30 years or more, there is no finer drink, love. It’s rare to find a woman with such tastes.”

“It was bought for me.”

“But you enjoy it, yes?” You gave him a nod. You had to admit, it wasn’t bad. “A woman of taste.” he smiled again. “What other things do you enjoy, Saltine? Money? Things? Travel?”

“Are you offering?” he intrigued you. He really did. Something about him made you want more and you didn’t even know him. “I could use a vacation.”

“Anywhere you want, darling. Where would you like to go?”

“Paris.” You answered quickly, and it didn’t seem to faze him at all. “Scotland.” you added. “England. Ireland. India. Japan. I want to see it all.”

His smile widened again. “Scotland, eh? It has been a while since I’ve been home.”

“I was joking.” you chuckled.

“I wasn’t. In another life, I could’ve given you everything you wanted and more with just a snap of my fingers.” You sat there, stunned again. “Choose a place and I’ll send you there. If you want, I’ll take the time and meet you there. The choice is yours, darling. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this interested in anything.”

“All because of a bottle of Craig?” you asked.

“Everything good in life starts with a quality scots. Be it a whiskey, or a scotsman.” he winked. “So where first?”

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[whenyouknowyouknow]

Harry the Womanizer

 This thing started because I find the whole womanizer image of Harry absolutely disgusting and wanted people to see how utterly bad and wrong it was.

Please be aware that the following does not reflect Harry’s personality but it shows us the image their label wanted him to be seen as.

Some disclaimer about where the data comes from

written, digital coverage (no print,  1-2 videos, no radio)

google search “Harry Styles”, I looked through the first 20 hits each month but didn’t read all of them ( headlines usually are a dead giveaway if an article contains a new “conquest”)

I did not list every woman that was mentioned in the same article as Harry. Also not those that showed interest in him. But most of those that were said he showed interest in (I might have skipped a few in the worst years just bc it was so freaking disgusting)

Often articles contained offhand comments about his pulling power or unrelatedly recounting his latest conquests in any given article to enforce the womanizer image. These did not make it into the list.

Deleted articles are of course not included (as of Aug 2020)

Some of the women turn up again for a round 2 (or 3 or 4), I only mention them once a year tho

I put the women into the list on the date the news coverage happened/started because many articles date back things by saying  “pics have circulated since…” “They have been reportedly seen together since…” or simply tell a story that supposedly happened a few years prior

Some dates overlap. Thats either bc they pushed several woman at once (very effective to drive the whole womanizer image home) or its bc one woman was seeded in while the other was happening.

Because this is a freaking long post, I’ll put it under the “read more”

About the list

split by years

each year has Harrys age for that given year in brackets

each data set has in brackets the age, occupation and date of news coverage for the woman (if available)

winter gf get their own category as they sometimes overlap with other woman

Some of the woman get brought back up (not just mentioned in passing), those are listed at the end of each year with the dates when they where brought back up

“again” is for those who dated him again

Women linked to Harry

2010 (16)

5(?) girls from bootcamp

Cher Loyd (17, txf fellow contestant, Oct)

unnamed girl fan (13.11.)

2011 (17)

Adele (23, singer, 27.09.)

Sarita Borge (record executive, 29.11.)

2011-2012

Caroline Flack (31, txf, 23.10.-27.01.)

2012 (18)

Pixie Geldoff (21, 09.02.)

Alexa Chung (28, model, 16.02)

Alexandra Burke (23, txf, 20.02.)

Jo Wood (56, ex of Ronny Wood 21.02.)

Denise Welch (54, actress, 21.02.)

Georgia May Jagger (20, Mick Jagger daughter, 21.02.)

Sarah-Louise Colivet (24, photographer, 11.04.)

Lily Halpern (19, singer, 11.04.)

Jillian Harris (32, reality TV star, 13.04.)

Emma Ostilly (18, actor for Gotta be You MV -  22.04.) 

Ellis Calcutt (18(?), friend, deniedm, 30.04.)

Emily Atack (22, TV star, 20.05.)

unnamed girl (Article about her one night stand with H, 06.06.)

Lucy Horobin (32, radio presenter, 24.06., dated back to Aug-Oct 2011)

Caggie Dunlop (23, TV star, 12.07.)

Allyssa Reid (19, singer, 23.07.)

Blond girl with pink bag (from a night out, 26.07.)

Cara Delevingne (19, Model, 05.08.)

Natalie Imbruglia (37, singer actress 28.09.)

 2012-13

Taylor Swift (22 singer 19.10.-07.01. (fling dated back to April 2012 then getting back together)

2013 (19)

Hermione Way (27, reality star, 08.01.)

Millie Brady (18, actress, 24.02.)

Shaniece Nesbitt (fan, 11.03.)

Yvette Fielding (44, TV presenter, 11.03.)

Fia Litton (niece of Preston Mahon (security), 14.03)

Chelsea Ferguson (25, stripper, 14.04)

Kimberly Stewart (33, confirmed by Rod, 27.04.)

Camilla Foss (18, fan in oslo, 09.05.)

Kara Rose Marshall (22, model, 03.07.)

Alexis Allen (19, fan, 21.07.)

Cara Delevingne (20, model, 11.09.)

Paige Reifler (17, model, 30.09.)

Sjana Earp (18, model, 25.10.)

Samantha Armytage (36, TV presenter, 27.10.)

Daisy Lowe (24, model, 01.12.)

Caroline Flack (brought back up, 01.02./11.09.)

2013-14

Kendall Jenner (17, model, 21.10. - 23.02)

2014 (20)

mystery brunette (20.01.)

Alison Mosshart (35, singer, 07.03.)

Daisy Lowe (25, model, 11.04.)

Larissa de Macedo Machado (21, brazilian popstar, 08.05.)

Lou Teasdale (30, hairdresser, 26.05.)

Sinitta (45, Smons ex, 22.07.)

Paige Reifler (18, again, model, 25.07.)

Meghan Trainor (20, singer, 27.08.)

blond woman (at Coldplay concert, 18.09.)

Katy Perry (29, singer, 01.10.)

Erin Foster (31, 08.10.)

Kate Moss (40, model, 03.11.)

two blond woman (leaving a club in LA with H, 30.11.)

Taylor Swift (brought back up, 12.02./02.03./20.08./14.10./04.12.)

Emily Atack (brought back up, 23.03.)

Caroline Flack (brought back up, 26.03.)

2014-15

Nadine Leopold (20, model, 20.12.- 12.03.)

2015 (21)

Emma Watson (24, actress, 14.01. dated back to 26.12.14)

Suki Waterhouse (23, actress, 05.04.)

Joy Muggli (23, talent agent, 12.05.)

Sara Sampaio (23, model, 15.06.)

Georgia Fowler (22, model, inspiration for Kiwi, 15.10.)

Nicole Scherzinger (34, singer, 17.10., dated back to 2013)

Taylor Swift (brought back up, 15.01./13.02./10.03./08.05./13.10./28.10.)

Caroline Flack (brought back up, 24.05./11.10.)

2015-16

Kendall Jenner (again, 30.12.- 31.01.)

2016 (22)

Pandora Lennard (28, model 31.01.)

Lindsay Lohan (30, actress, 10.03., dated back unspecified)

Kendall Jenner (again, 05.09.)

Kara Rose Marshall (brought back up, 07.10.)

Suki Waterhouse (again + dated back to 2013, 11.11.)

Taylor Swift (brought back up, 01.02.)

2017 (23)

Tess Ward (26, food blogger, 09.05.)

Townes Adair Jones (20s, 17.05., dated back to 2014)

Camille Rowe (31, model, 31.07.)

Sjana Earp (22, again, 05.12.)

Taylor Swift (brought back up, 18.04./12.05./03.09./09.11.)

Kendall Jenner (brought back up, 31.01.)

2018 (24)

Delta Goodrem (33, voice coach, 27.04.) 

Camille Rowe (ends 31.07.)

Kendall Jenner (brought back up, 15.07./12.12.)

Taylor Swift (brought back up, 21.03./)

2019 (25)

Kiko Mizuhara (28, denied by K, 12.01.)

Camille Rowe (brought back up, 22.11.)

Kendall Jenner (brought back up, 11.12.)

Taylor Swift (brought back up, 23.08./04.11./13.12.)

2020 (26)

Daisy Lowe (brought back up, 20.06.)

Taylor Swift (brought back up, 02.03./24.07.)

data from here on is not included in the graphs, I will keep adding when things happen

Tracee Ellis Ross (48, actress, 28.10.)

The age differences

The graph shows clearly how

the age gaps are very big in the beginning, likely to attract an older audience in addition to the usual target audience of teenage girls

the amount of woman linked to Harry gets smaller each year because in later years, articles could just reference his history with woman

the amount of woman linked and mentioned in regards to Harry gets significantly lower after hiatus started

A rough timeline of women that where connected to Harry over the years

Why give Harry the womanizer image?

Would the image of a womanizer not damage the image of 1D?

If they’d portrait him as a sleeze it would have surely damaged the overal image of 1D. But Harrys image portrait him as charming, a bit quirky and overall an airhead that likes people and doesn’t want to be tied down. Thus giving the illusion of being potentially available to every woman and showing them a good, no strings attached, time. Which is a massive selling point for boybands to increase the age range of their fans.

In addition, all his conquests would be used to stir up drama or simply generate attention at crucial times to get 1D in the press without mentioning their current promo focus in every headline.

The winter girlfriends had a special role as they were the only ones actively worked as continuous dating. To build some attachment, have a continuous storyline that could be tied to the just released album and bridge the holiday pause, and when the relationship ended generate more drama to be used for promo.

Harry did keep on using his womanizer image to promote both his solo albums but in a very controlled manner. The numbers of new woman linked to him declined to 1 in 2019, for now we are at 0 (1) in 2020

HS promo used 3 woman as inspirations for songs (Towns, Fowler, Swift) and a tour gf (Rowe)

FL promo only uses the previous tour gf as now ex to push the storyline of a breakup album

He is very visibly changing his image while still maintaining a level of connection to his old image. Whether that's due to contractual restrictions or a strategy to not alienate to many fans is unclear

Jeff Azoff

For what I’ve seen Jeff and Harry seem close (the Azoff family having him on family pictures, posted by Jeff’s brother)

Looking at the timeline of Jeff and Harry

2014-03-25 first mention of Harry at Azoff family home in an article about Irvin

2014-04-23 first pics of Harry and Jeff at a sports event (Jeff named as a friend, no name or position yet)

2014-12-22 Jeff not named yet but identified as his agent

2015-01-10 first time Jeff being named and being the link between Harry and a woman

2016-03-07 Jeff leaves CAA as a music agent and launches his own company Full Stop Management

2016-03-11 Harry confirmed to have joined Full Stop Management

Jeff likely took over as Harry’s agent in early 2014. In 2015 Harry’s image change starts to become aparent and changed drastically after hiatus.

Harry choosing Jeffs management firm as soon as he left Modest is a clear indication that he feels Jeff will represent him how he wants

The Timeline - Women connected to Harry and Promo

I started the visual timeline in end 2011 when his womanizer image started to take off

The instances before where likely used as seeding for this image (first instance was a segment in txf where he was linked to 5 of the girl contestants and funny enough one older guy)

purple - women from the entertainment industry

pink - fans/no-names

lilac - winter gf

dark burgundy - thos who date him again

dusky pink - brought back up

light blue - single release

royal blue - album release

mid blue - other releases

dark turquoise - tour legs

Adendum: a few numbers analyzed,

[ickymichi]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.

a tendou satori x reader series.

✟ there’s always been the one rule every person who’s been in a band knows not to break, never mess around with your band mates. but Satori was sick of the groupies, sick of catching the bra’s and panties that were flung at him every night. he just wanted the one thing he couldn’t have.

✟ warnings: swearing, eventual smut, eventual angst(?), drug use, inappropriate themes, comedy.

✟ things to know: band au!, some timeskip careers mentioned, slow updates.

✟ if you’d like to be added to the taglist just send an ask! <3

✟ word count: 1.8k

✟ note: first actual chapter of this series! it’s nothing big but obviously i wanted to get something written for this series! but i hope you enjoy my dears! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

all contents belongs to k1ttykawa 2021. please do not repost or modify on this or any other platform.

.:previous:.

.:next:.

.:masterlist:.

𝟎𝟎𝟐:. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬

The bright lights and screams from the small crowd in the underground venue was what brings you back down from the high you’re always on whenever you sit on the small bouncing stool behind the drum set on stages every second or third night. You heard Semi thanking everyone for coming and whatever shit he always says. Once you seen him bow and Tendou go to pick up the collection of bra’s and panties thrown on stage, you raised a hand and threw one of the drumsticks into the crowd, your own way of saying goodbye before making your way offstage. Semi and Tendou’s tall frames following behind, the same order as always.

The sweat was pouring out of you, tonight being more of a wilder one than the usual calm sets you’ve been having in bars or party’s recently. they were easy money, but they got boring after just a few hours. so all three of you were in desperate need of a night like tonight.

Turning the corner of the small, dark corridor to your dressing room for tonight you were met with the stench of weed, 3 different girls on the beat up leather couch, a rolled joint in one of the girls hands and white lines on a tray to the others left. Like always, you went straight to the showers to get the scent of sweat and fake smoke of you.

You really don’t know when but the cropped black tank top you had on was ripped down one side but your usual headband you sported every show was missing and it now became you new priority to track it down. “Satori! Where the fuck is my headband?” you stomped back out to see the wanted man desperately trying to pull the tight leather pants down his lanky legs. His head was whipped up to at the sound of your annoyed voice and then quickly darted his eyes over to the blonde that had previously rolled the joints and was now fawning over semi and his revealed tattoos. “oi” was all you muttered out behind her and holding out your empty hand—also noting some of your rings were gone. She turned her head to you with a scowl covering her features, which also revealed your missing accessory that caused your distress. “that’s her bandana and she’s quite obviously looking for it back,” Tendou quipped in making every one bar the girl laugh. After time, she untied it from the back and forcefully placed it back in your hand. Dramatically you held your arm, acting as if she pained you, tendou again laughing with you.

Finally you were able to hop into the shower and quickly get your self freshened and rub the accesses makeup off your eyes that was already smudged from your constant wiping, trying to stop the sweat dripping from your hairline.

“(y/n)!! please help me out of these, semisemi just keeps fucking laughing!” the peace and quiet you had was quickly interrupted by Tendou’s loud whining. “how the fuck am I not supposed to laugh when your walking around with them swinging around your ankles and your dick hanging out?” “what, Its out?!”

The large door separating the bathroom from the connected dressing room swung open and revealed Satori with his leathers pooled at his ankles and— surprising his dick not actually ‘hanging out’. “please help me sugartits, they’re fucking stuck even with my skinny ankles,” he hopped onto the counter and held his legs up for you to guide them off him. “well for starters, take your fucking shoes off!, and also I swear i saw these in the women’s section of some online store?” jokingly you shouted at him and moved to untie the doc martin’s around his feet. “yeah? You probably did, stole them from that chick that wouldn’t stop hanging off me last month,” both of you laughing at his silliness and falling into a comfortable silence.

The only noise was the voices off the others in the separate room and a recognisable Mötley Crüe song shaking the floor from the stage.

“what you think of tonight then?” the silence being broken by Satori like usual. “uhhh, it was definitely something but yeah, it was fun. Its nice to have a night like that every now and then, specially since we’ve just been in bars doing the same covers for the past two weeks. What about you huh?” he hummed, a noise of agreement showing he was listening, a habit you grew to learn. “I guess it was good fun yeah, although I didn’t appreciate nearly getting hit with a dildo within the first two songs. But I agree, it’s nice to do our own shit and not covers in a bar with a bunch of middle age boring shits. I think we’ve another show that’ll probably be like this again on Saturday.”

Saturday, today was Thursday so you’ve a nice day or two to just lie around, the other probably filled with travelling and setting up.

After about 10 minutes you had unlaced both his boots and chucked them onto the floor and not too long later his ‘borrowed’ pants joined them. “thanks chicken, lifesaver as always,” he pulled you into an embrace with one arm before leaving to find his spare clothes in the other room. He did always have the weirdest nicknames.

The night bled into the early hours of the morning, Semi and Tendou both getting their share of the girls there while you kicked your feet up, sparking up a conversation and passing the joints with your friend Taichi who was also your ‘manager’, he wasn’t really he just acted like it when venues would ask important questions and tagged along for the free show and nights at different clubs.

He was also the one who suggested you start moving to the motel down the street for the night before the venue boots you all out. Quickly you agreed, not fancying seeing any more glimpses of your friends and strangers body parts. Obviously the girls whined to the boys, asking if they could come, saying it’s dangerous for girls to walk home alone at night, “sorry ladies, but we’ll be sharing a bed tonight and I don’t fancy getting an unwanted facial on a Thursday night,” you butted into their persuasive conversation by wrapping an arm around the boys from the back of the couch and giving a friendly smile.

By the time you all got your equipment packed away and into the van it was nearing 4:30 in the morning and you, quite literally we’re going to fall into the bed. It wasn’t the nicest of places but you were just spending tonight and the next two there, unless you decided to go out after the shows and find some rando’s condo to spend the night in. All three of you pushed your way into the small room trying to get the edges of the double bed. And it wasn’t easy trying to squeeze through two 6’2 lean men, resulting in you again stuck in the middle of them staring at the blank roof, desperately waiting for the sun to rise so you could find some place to get food and away from the mess of limbs under the covers.

When you did wake up it felt like you’d only slept for two hours, when in reality it had been about 10. The afternoon sun melting through the old curtains and falling into your pillow. As you moved to see what had finally woke you from the deep sleep you saw Semi at the small table, his guitar resting on his knees and his worn, nimble fingers scribbling words on his notebook he kept for when lyrics would come to him.

“mornin’ early bird,” all you could let out was a groan, your mind still coming to its senses. “there’s food n’ shit there Satori went out to get it, we was the first up, surprisingly,” he breathed out the last remark before moving to pick up the red pencil and get back to writing lyrics before they left his head.

The food that Tendou got was still warm so he must’ve of been up long before you anyway. “where is he?” “beats me, probably wandering round like always,” quickly he responded and took the pic from between his teeth and started strumming a tune while humming, what you were guessing, was the lyrics on the page.

Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you pulled your phone from where it was connected to the wall by the charger and found Satori’s contact and pressed the call icon, moving away from the sound of Eita and his guitar you went to go outside and sit on the bench outside your rooms window.

“hello, hello,” his ever cheerful voice filled the speakers of your phone that was wedged between your shoulder and ear. “hey, I was just calling to see where you are that’s all,” you piped up when he went quiet, tutting when you realised you were out of cigarettes. “oh you know, just out sightseeing ‘tis all,” “cool cool, well i’m going to the store now you need anything?” he hummed into the phone, indicating that he was thinking of something he needed. “just cigs I guess and get me that drink I like while there, i’ll pay you later,” bidding him goodbye as the small shop on the corner came into view you slipped your phone into your sweatpants pocket and walked to the back where they kept the energy drinks.

Exiting the shop with everything you needed you walked to make your way back till you saw a familiar head of red locks across the street and quickly, but quietly made your way to his figure.

Sneaking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his middle, feeling his ribs press into your arms, something you’ve noted recently. He sucked air into his lungs and jumped slightly before laughing with you. “here you go your highness,” was how you greeted him and chucked him his requested items. “thanks muffincake, i’ll pay you back later I swear,” you scoffed and shook his offer off, suggesting you stroll around the city until Semi called either of you to ‘get your sorry asses back to the room’.

Your stroll progressed into a very long walk and by the time Satori suggested you head back with an arm around your shoulder it was already dark, the night life staring to come out of hiding. eyeing a club across the street you thought might be a good shout to visit in case you three got bored tonight, making a mental note of its location.

“Didn’t Semisemi say we need to go over the set list again cause, someone, messed up last night,” a sing-song voice dragged you out of your club browsing and brought a scowl to your face. “excuse me, you’re the one who told me we were doing ‘nasty’ after the interlude, prick,” he pulled his chin up and started to ‘think’ about your accusation before loudly dubbing it false; “nope, I don’t recall doing such a thing. I could never, but if it boots your already sky high ego then, of course I did my dearest apologies baby cakes,” “do you ever shut up,” “when i’m face first in pus-” “Don’t even!”

t a g l i s t: @evan-rose @elianetsantana @weebintheinternet @kuroos-roosterhead

please lmk if i missed you if your not there! <3

[toorumochi]

100 OTP QUESTIONS: KaruShuu! 2/4

Hello! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ I wrote 100 OTP Questions about KaruShuu, and I'll post them here! I'll divide those into 4 parts, here is part 2/4, hope you enjoy! ♡

26. What songs do they sing together in the vehicle? - ‘Sofia the first opening’ is the main, oh and heavy metal songs bc they are a cool couple

27. What other couple would your OTP get along with? - RIO AND TERASAKA.

28. Who likes to prank the other? - Karma pls leave Shuu alone 😭

29. Who is the one who loves to take pictures? - Karma takes very cheesy pics of them, but Shuu likes them more professional and very nice and soft

30. How would they react if they found out they were soul mates? - Karma would be like smiling cheekily and Shuu would try not to smile but on the inside he would be: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 they are so cute I can’t-

31. Where would they live? - They do indeed have stable jobs and are earning a lot, but I think as a couple they would live in a peaceful apartment or a nice small house; if they would consider starting a family, they would probably move, and Karmas arguments were when Shuu asked why it should be a house between the countryside and the city:

“Well, if we adopt and our children will soon be teens, I’m sure they would want to be close to cities so they can meet up with friends or so 🥰” , “.......we are adopting a 5 year old girl what do you mean in a few years- this will be a very long time so let’s calm down for now”

32. What type of dragon would they own, if they could have one? - Bet Karma would buy like 10 of them and come home and they start to breathe fire and those water dragons would flood their apartment, so as soon as Shuu comes home, a whole ass tsunami hits his body; That week Karma slept on the doormat.

33. If they were both vampires, what type of vampires would they be? - pLS, Karma would flirt the living demon out of Shuu. IMAGINE THEIR SEXUAL TENSION-

34. What would they dress up as, for Halloween? - Karma would dress up as a murderer, and he would force Shuu to wear a dress and be his ‘murderous wife’; he received a slap in the head and Shuu went as a ghost

35. Can they name each other’s favourite food? -

Karma: Pizza.  

Shuu: As long as it’s edible, he will eat it.

36. Do they have pet names for one another? - Well- Karma does have many, but Shuu insults him, like “Moron”, “Dumbass”, “Idiot”, please he could write a book with all the insults and he wouldn’t be done with it and die of old age

37. How do they cheer each other up? - Karma doesn't show that he is sad so that he won’t worry Shuu, but when it comes to cheer Shuu up, please, he would fight a tree for him. Once when they were out, Shuu was complaining about how hot it is and the sun annoys him, and Karma glared at the sun, of course getting blind a bit and yelled “THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE SUNSHINE, AND THAT'S SHUU. FUCK YOU, YOU BIG BALL OF ANNOYING LIGHT”

38. Do they show a lot of PDA? - Shuu really dislikes it and Karma respects it, but Karma is Karma and he likes to tease him a bit by giving him kisses in public

39. How old were they when they got together? - They have known each other since the first year of Junior High, but they got together when they were 15-16

40. Who is the one that would bring the puppy home? - Karma would; like imagine a puppy for Shuu as a birthday or christmas gift

41. Can they do yoga couple’s poses? - LMAO YEAH I WROTE A CHAPTER ABOUT THAT- I'LL ADD A LINK

42. What is their song? - uuuuu I could make a whole playlist about them-

43. What does their room look like? - Hm. Big, not many furnitures ya know, if it gets crazy up in there so they don’t hit on stuff when they stumble to the bed :D lmao but nah fr it would be minimalistic and tidy 😌

44. Who would be the one to kill zombies while the other keeps them grounded? - Karma would kill zombies, bet and Shuu keeping them grounded

45. Who makes the other breakfast in bed? - Karma omggg 🥺 Especially on days where Shuu is overworked or didn’t sleep well, as well as birthdays pls get a man like that aaa

46. Who loves kids more? - Actually, both do bc their childhood was a bit (.......not just a bit, a whole lotta trash actually-) trash so if they ever consider having kids, pls they would be the best parents ever

47. Do either of them have a crazy ex? - Thankfully not-

48. What are their favourite colours? - Karma: “Orange”; Shuu: “Red”

49. Who likes to cook? - Karma! But Shuu helps like he stands there with his spatula, ready to steer sum stuff (He is so cute pls)

50. Who is the forgetful one? - Karma, he once forgot their anniversary (Overworked), but that wasn’t such a big deal, they don’t do much on that day except for a dare who lasts longer in Be-

And that was part 2/4 of the 100 OTP questions!! Hope you enjoyed! ♡