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sweet-creature101 · 3 months

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Washing Machine Heart

Summary: You, a reserved student find yourself in the midst of an intense with Harry Styles, who happens to be your friend’s boyfriend. Your connection ignites into a consuming, high-stakes affair, each encounter fraught with desire and danger, pushing both of you to the brink as you wrestle with guilt and loyalty.

A forbidden affair; affair trope.

Warnings: mention of alcohol. LOTS OF ANGST.

27th February 2014

4:08 p.m

The wind was cold today and so were you. The sun, hidden under a cloak of clouds, was nowhere to be seen. The streets of London never looked so desolate and dull. Even the usually vibrant Villon Street today looked as if it had been washed in grey and white. Your shoes clacked against the hard pavement, your focus directed at the wind and the cold that nicked at your face.

Over the years you developed a perception that you’re invisible, a shadow slinking in corners long forgotten. You look around, your ears blocking out the chatter and squeals of your friends; friends who would often disregard you when together, far too immersed in each other's stories of disastrous flings and affairs. But they were your friends, your friends to call, your friends to keep no matter how ignorant or oblivious they sometimes became.

“Y/N?” Sharon suddenly spoke out loud, drawing you out of your trance.

“Yeah?” You suddenly asked, your posture becoming straighter, your eyes becoming alert.

Sharon looked at you intently, her blue eyes scanning you up and down before sighing. “There’s a party tomorrow at, what 7?” Sharon asked Regina in the middle of her sentence.

Regina simply nodded while texting, her wispy brown hair wafting with every gust of wind. Sharon continued, “Yes, so there’s a party tomorrow at the frat house. Would you like to join? We’re all getting ready at my place.”

Sharon and you lived in the same apartment building. You were looking for the cheapest accommodation, a one-bedroom apartment off campus because living with absolute strangers was far too daunting for you. And that is how you met Sharon, whom your mother instantly loved owing to her extroverted demeanour.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smiled at the three girls.

“Great!” Tara exclaimed.

The four of you spent the next hour drinking coffee and discussing your outfits for the party; albeit you occasionally answered in full sentences, opting for curt words instead. As the clock struck seven in the evening, Tara and Regina decided to head back to campus while you and Sharon made your way to Greene Street, where your apartments were situated. “Come with me, I have to show you my new dress,” Sharon said before you got a chance to head to your apartment.

Sharon’s apartment was right next to yours but seemed a world apart. Her apartment was littered with stray clothes, makeup and syllabus books everywhere while yours sported an impressive collection of novels, journals and trinkets and the walls were painted with various constellations, flowers, sunsets or anything you wished to preserve.

You stepped over Sharon’s strewn clothes and sat on her bed, waiting for her to come out. Suddenly the doorbell rang and you were up in qualms, not knowing what to do.

“Sharon, someone's at the door.” You said, standing close to the bathroom door so that she could hear you clearly.

“Must be Harry, why don’t you open it? It’ll take me a while in here.” Sharon replied.

You stood for two seconds, mapping out your plan of action when the bell rang for the second time. “Coming!” You yelled.

You opened the door and there stood Harry Styles, Sharon’s five-month long boyfriend. A bouquet of roses held in his right hand, a silly smile etched on his face.

“You’re not Sharon.” Harry chuckled. His voice sounded radiant, his green eyes gleamed with amusement.

“You stand correct. She’s in the washroom,”

“Ah, well how are you?” Harry asked, being the gentleman he was taught to be.

“Careful or else I might think these flowers are for me.” You joked dryly.

Truth be told, initially, Harry had his sights set on you, the girl who always lingered beyond time in the library, who would laugh at jokes only once she saw everyone else was laughing around her. This is why he talked to Sharon, to make her help him talk to you but somewhere along the way lines got blurred and Harry got confused. Fatally confused. Confused enough that his lack of decisiveness led him to a relationship he never wanted to be in but nonetheless followed through for he had nothing better to do. And now as you opened the door, a small part of him hoped that the situation in front of him was not because of coincidence but because of will.

“Harry!” A squeal from behind took his focus away. He looked behind to see Sharon, in a tight red dress looking at him with the eyes of a lovesick puppy.

“Got these for you,” Harry said, walking in. He grabbed Sharon by the waist and gave her a kiss.

Harry did not notice when you left, but could only feel you leave. Like a silent wraith gliding from one world to the next.

28th February 2014

10:42 p.m

The music playing was absolutely deafening. The cup in your head seemed like a dead weight. You had a few beers, only to make conversations with all these people less turbulent. The short denim skirt you wore kept on riding up your thighs and the white tube top you wore seemed to stick to your skin. Tara had run off to somewhere with Regina and Sharon was far too immersed in making your drink.

“Don’t add too much vodka Shar,” you tell the girl, turning your focus towards the kitchen island littered with bottles of alcohol and empty cups.

“Of course, of course,” Sharon said, nodding, as she proceeded to empty the bottle of vodka in her hand in the two cups in front of her. “Now for the real question Y/N, coke or straight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Straight?” You opted for drinking it straight because you found the taste of vodka to be borderline unbearable, so you opted to take it as a shot. To get it over with rather than let the audacious taste linger on.

“Straight it is,” Sharon said, handing you your cup. “Oh, and I honestly don’t know how much I poured. Let my hand loose if you know what I mean.” The girl chuckled. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and drank the shot all at once. You did the same, cringing at the taste, feeling as if you were about to puke.

“Water!” Sharon immediately scrambled for a glass of water on seeing your expression. She handed the glass to you, her expression wary.

“All good.” You said as you kept the glass down.

“Hah great! I’m gonna go look for Harry now.”

“Oh yeah, have fun.” You said smiling at her, your speech a bit slurred.

You made your way to the back of the house and sat next to the pool. Your head started to spin, and a newfound sense of numbness settled over your bones. One that you found quite relaxing. You closed your eyes and hummed contently, the loud music and presence of people no longer bothering you as it was before.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice. You opened your eyes and saw Harry walk towards you.

“Hello, Harry!” You said enthusiastically, smiling as wide as you possibly could.

“You seem to be in a nice mood.” Harry chuckled at your behaviour.

“Come, sit next to me.” You gestured towards the space beside you. Harry took you up on your offer, sitting on the lounge chair next to you.

“You know, it took me two hours to straighten my hair. Not that it was difficult, but because I kept on asking myself if I really wanted to come here. Then there was this whole dilemma of not knowing what to wear. I wanted to wear my jeans but Tara said I can’t wear them because she’s wearing them, then I thought I could wear leather pants but Regina said she’s wearing hers so I can’t wear mine, although they don’t even remotely look the same. And what’s so bad about having similar outfits.” You huffed out. Harry looked at you with both surprise and awe because you had never talked more than ten seconds with him.

“Well, I for one think you look absolutely beautiful tonight,” Harry said, looking at you with sincere eyes.

“Really?” You asked him. The doubt in your eyes made Harry want to hug and hold you.

“Really. I don’t think there’s anyone as beautiful as you here Y/N.” Harry said.

He didn’t miss the way your gaze softened, your lips dropping into a small smile. You drew closer to him. He could feel your bare thighs touch his and it was as if his entire being had narrowed down to the parts where your skin touched his. He felt his heart skip a few beats when you kept your head on his shoulder and held his hand in yours.

Oh, how he wished to kiss you at that moment! He had to physically stop his hand from trailing up your neck, all the way to your face. He wanted to touch you, feel your skin and kiss every inch of it, slowly and gently. He wished he could stretch time to its fullest and preserve this moment in a photograph that he could stow away in his pocket.

“Sharon was looking for you. Sorry, I didn’t tell you earlier.” You whispered, half expecting him to get up and leave.

“It’s okay,” Harry replied quietly, his grip on your tightening as he pulled you in closer.

4th March 2014

11:16 p.m

The month of March is a month full of oddities and complexities. It seems to be a kind of cloth wherein the hem was left undone, leaving it to fray in any and every direction. You do not know what to expect until you step outside. The sunshine that seems to be warm from your window is truthfully cold, or the chilling wind blowing outside is actually warm. Needless to say, March is a month with its seam left undone.

And in that undone seam, in a mess of threads and needles is where you found yourself. A new set of feelings dawned on you. Feelings for Harry. You felt your heart skip a few beats every time you looked at him. But there was Sharon, his girlfriend and more importantly your friend. This constant tug of war between what you desire and what is morally incorrect tired you. You tucked away all your worries in the back of your head for tonight, your sole focus being the movie playing in front of you.

You get up from the couch in which you lay to fetch yourself a bag of crisps. While making your way to the kitchen, your doorbell rang. You were expecting no one, especially not at this time. A million scenarios rushed through your head, full of probable outcomes (albeit most of them ended up with you dead on your living room floor). The doorbell rang a second time now. You picked up your ornithology textbooks, two of them together hoping that the sheer width of them combined would help you knock out whoever it was outside.

You open the door, half ready to start swinging like hell when you see Harry. The top buttons of his shirt were left unbuttoned, showing his built chest and muscled arms. His broad shoulders seemed to block out your doorway.

He looked ravishing.

You mentally smacked yourself for thinking in such a way about a boy who happened to be in a relationship, that too with a girl who happened to be your friend. “What are you doing here Harry? Sharon’s apartment is the one on the right.” You said, envisioning that him ringing your doorbell was an honest mistake.

“I know.” He said, smiling at you. He leaned against your doorframe, towering over you. You crossed your arms and looked at him.

Harry did not miss the way you scanned him up and down, how your breath so subtly hitched when you saw his chest. He found the flimsy night suit you wore to be quite cute, if not tempting. A button-up half-sleeved satin shirt with red hearts all over it and a pair of dangerously short shorts to accompany it.

“What’re you watching?” Harry said, walking in and sitting on your sofa. “Rio, huh? Good choice I’d say.” He said, smiling at you, stretching his body.

“Make yourself right at home will ya?” You muttered under your breath. “Why are you here though?” You asked him as you settled down next to him.

“Do you mind my company? Although I don’t think so.”

“Is there something you want from me? If so, just ask me so that we can stop with the small talk bullshit.” You firmly said.

“Yes actually, I do want something,” Harry said turning to look at you.

“Which is?”

“To spend time with you.”

“What?”

“I just told you what I want, kitten,” Harry said. You were grateful for the low lighting in your living room that hid the blush creeping on your face.

“You’re drunk Harry.” You reprimanded him. He only smiled at you, rolling his eyes playfully. “Just a bit tipsy Y/N.”

“Hmm. Okay, what do you want to watch then?” You ask, turning your focus away.

“Rio’s good.” He said.

“Okay.”

You resume the movie and lean back. Harry watched you intently. He noted every moment of yours, the way your chest would rise and freeze when something would happen in the movie, the way your lips would morph into a smile and your eyes fill with wonder.

Harry slowly started to inch towards you, careful not to make too much noise. He tried to be as subtle as he could, stretching and spreading his legs simply to touch yours. He could see you relax as well, your upright posture now dissolving into a lazy spread. Slowly, inch by inch Harry moved towards you as if you were a magnet pulling him in your direction.

He put his arm behind you. His thighs touched yours and from the corner of his eye, he could see you in freeze. He smirked and continued to move closer.

The warmth radiating from Harry was more welcoming than you were willing to admit. A million questions raced through your head, ‘is this right?’, ‘This is wrong,’ ‘he has a girlfriend’ and most importantly, ‘I shouldn’t be feeling this way.’ However, in all reality, you were caught up in the exact same feelings the rational part of your brain was telling you to avoid. But you didn’t care.

So you nestled further in Harry’s embrace, falling into him. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his muscled arm come around and wrap your shoulders. You could feel the sheer strength of his chest, feel every sculpted muscle of his under your head. Your skin felt as if it were on fire, fire that did not burn you but only tingled you. A tingle that you felt erupting in the lower part of your stomach.

You look up to see Harry gazing down at you. “I gather you don’t find the movie interesting.” You said, he only smiled gently at you.

“Talking birds aren’t really my preference.” He said, his voice sounding raspy.

“Oh, I can change it,” you said, getting up but Harry pulled you down, which made you land on top of him. You were now sitting on his lap, your expression that of extreme fluster. “That won’t be necessary,” Harry said. He looked at you with a gaze that threatened to devour you as a whole. He dragged his thumb over your lip slowly.

Your breathing went shallow all of a sudden. The flimsy material of your nightshirt wasn’t thick enough to hide how your nipples hardened under his touch. “What are you doing?” You asked him, your words a mere pant leaving your lips.

“What I dreamt of doing for so long,” Harry said.

He slowly inched his head towards you, his lips inviting you. It suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and he was the source of oxygen. The second your lips met with his you could feel your lungs fill with the air you lacked before.

Harry moved his hands up and down your body, feeling you as deeply as he could. Every inch of your skin, from the pads of your fingertips to your chest was on fire. A fire that Harry’s hands ignited in their wake. A fire that seemed to only burn and burn.

You started grinding your hips. Feeling his hard bulge under you. A desperate moan escaped his lips. You started to circle your hips more deeply, pressing your hot and dripping centre against him. You could feel the denim of his pants rub through the flimsy material of your shorts.

You were both a mess of pants and moans. Kissing each other as if the world threatened to end. A moan was about to fall off your lips when the bell rang. You shot up, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay angel.” He said, cupping your face in his hand.

You got up from his lap, now consciously aware of what had just happened.

“Y/N! Let me in!” Sharon spoke from the other end of the door. Your eyes were wide in alarm as you turned towards Harry. “Bathroom! Go!” You whispered to him, dragging him to your bathroom.

Once Harry was in, you opened the door. “Hi Sharon, what’s got you knocking on my door at this time?”

Sharon only rolled her eyes and walked in. “I don’t know what to wear tomorrow.” She sighed dramatically.

“Why what’s tomorrow?” You ask her.

“Harry’s taking me out.” She said as if you had asked a silly question.

“Oh.”

“I was thinking of wearing my red dress, or maybe the white one y’know the one with pearls and-”

“Sharon, listen I’d love to do this, but just not now.” You said, your voice meek.

“Why're you acting like this?” She asked you, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Like what?” You feigned innocence, already feeling guilty for refusing her.

“Like you have someone here. Do you, though?” She asked you, almost sounding accusatory.

Be calm. Be calm.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Anyways, you go to bed or whatever you were doing.” She said leaving your apartment.

You let out a deep breath and walked towards the washroom. You opened the door and saw Harry, standing behind the shower curtain, his brawny structure making him stick out like a sore thumb.

“You can come out now.” You said.

“Ah thank God, I thought I’d have to stay here the whole night.” He chuckled.

“No, Sharon was just asking what to wear for her date tomorrow. A date that you’re taking her on.” You stated blandly.

“Oh.”

“Oh God, this was never supposed to happen. What have we done?” You said dragging your palms down your face. Before you could say another word Harry hugged you. He hugged you long and tight.

And despite knowing better, you melted in his arms like putty.

28th March 2014

3:27 p.m

You sat in your car, in the parking lot outside the rugby stadium, waiting for Harry. This is what your life has come to now. Waiting outside in parking lots to meet Harry, subtle brushes against each other, locking eyes with each other. Harry did the same, waiting for you outside your classes, entering your apartment at odd times. Your relationship had transgressed from being purely physical to being a more emotional one. You would both simply sit next to each other, talking.

The world didn’t seem so lonely anymore for the two of you.

You look outside to see Harry walk towards you. His hair was wet and he wore a compression shirt that highlighted his muscled build along with loose baggy sweatpants. He smiled looking at you, a smile you had come to know was only reserved for you. He didn’t smile like this with Sharon or with his friends, a part of your heart fluttered at this knowledge.

“Hello, my love,” Harry said, getting in the car.

“Hi. How was practice?” You asked him.

“It was good, tiring as always. How were classes?” Harry asked you while throwing his duffel bag in the back of the car.

“Fine. Sharon wanted me to go out with her, Regina and Tara tonight.” You stated blandly. The sound of Sharon's name brought a lot of unwanted guilt in your head.

“Are you going?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. They don’t talk to me as much when sober, I doubt the outcome’s going to be different when they’re drunk.” You sighed. Your hands fidgeted with the steering wheel of the car. The rings on your hand clacked against it faintly.

“You can always change the people you’re around Y/N,” he said

“But I can’t,”

“But you can.”

“You can, I can’t. Being able to make friends or even just talk to people doesn’t come to me as naturally as it does to you, Harry.” You sighed, becoming frustrated at both the conversation at hand and your lack of social skills.

“It’s okay. I get it.” He said, reaching out to hold your hand.

“Do you, though?” You shot back, scoffing.

“Y/N, come on don’t be like this.” Harry pleaded. His voice was soft and buttery, coaxing you into a better place.

“Yeah, I’m sorry there’s just a lot that’s been on my mind as of late.” You breathed through your nose deeply. Your head felt heavy with all the anxiety you’d been feeling lately.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, I'm okay. Thank you.” You whispered meekly.

Harry slowly brushed his hand over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, gazing into his eyes as a smile crept up your face. You leaned towards him and kissed him. You cupped his face with your hands and drew him into you. He unbuckled his seat belt quickly and pulled you onto his lap, albeit it was uncomfortable because of the tight place.

You moaned at his touch, capturing his lip between your teeth and tugging at it. Harry was left absolutely breathless by your actions and pulled you down harder, his hands squeezing your hips and waist. You could feel every muscle of his flex because of the thin compression shirt he wore.

“Careful now. Don’t want anyone to see us.” You whispered in his ear.

“What if I do?” Harry said, looking at you with an intense gaze.

Your lower lip jutted out subtly, a subtle reflection of what you thought of his words. “Everyone’s going to call you a cheater and they’ll call me something worse probably.” You chuckled sadly. You gave Harry a sincere kiss on his cheek and made your way for your seat.

“So what’s the plan for tonight? Are you going or not?” He asked you.

“No.” You answered as you started the car.

“Then how about a movie night? Just the two of us.”

“Hm, at my place and I’ll decide what to watch obviously.” You said smiling at him.

“Whatever you say kitten,” Harry said, holding your hand and kissing it.

4th April 2014

10:07 p.m

The black sky above glistened with a million stars, your eyes fixated on them. Harry watched you watching the stars. He smiled to himself. He longed for you in a silent and torturous way. You often felt worlds away from him even when you were right next to him. He blamed his lack of decisiveness for this distance. He knew deep down that the distance between you two would eventually strangle the life out of the relationship you shared. He was desperate for you, pining only for you. His world would stop moving when you’d call him by his name, all his focus narrowing on you.

“It’s breathtaking.” You gasped looking up.

“It truly is,” Harry said, looking at you.

You were sceptical at first when Harry said he knew a spot. After a drive of half an hour, you found yourself at the peak of a small hill, untouched by civilisation except for a small concrete bench. It not only overlooked the whole city but also had a magnificent view of the sky above. The stars weren’t so explicitly visible in the city as they were here.

The cool air blew against your cheeks, kissing your face gently.

“Come, sit with me,” Harry said, calling to you. You walk towards him and sit next to him on the bench.

You sigh through your nose and look ahead. “I think about it sometimes, what our first date would look like.” You said. Your voice sounded mournful as if you were grieving the loss of a relationship that never existed.

“I’d get you flowers, maybe even chocolates if you’re lucky that day,” Harry said. He looked at you and saw how glazed your eyes were.

“But it doesn’t matter. You’re with Sharon, who hates me. And you know what’s even more pathetic, it’s the fact that she hates me yet she’s my friend.” You spoke, your voice wobbly and cracking. You often felt like a washing machine. Everyone would come and go and leave a piece behind in it. Sometimes the piece would break you, unable to function for months or sometimes it would simply stay there. That was worse, having a piece of someone stay forever even as the washing machine in your heart desperately tried to cleanse you of it. “It’s just the hand I was dealt with.” You quickly added.

“Why don’t you say something to them? You don’t deserve to be walked over all like that. You can’t let that happen to you.” Harry said.

“The same way you’re walking all over me now?” You chuckled darkly.

“What?”

“What are we, Harry? Are we just fucking? Are we just friends? What are we?” You ask the question that had been looming over the both of you like an axe that could drop any moment.

“I wish I could answer that,” Harry said, his head in his hands now.

“What have I done?” You whispered to yourself.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this Y/N. I swear.” Harry pleaded, holding your hands in his.

“Why did you kiss me that day?” You asked him, tears now falling from your eyes.

“Because it’s always been you. You, who I wanted all along.” He confessed.

The silence after his confession was all consuming, threatening to eat him up alive. Harry caught a glimpse of you, staring straight at the skyline. Silent tears fell from your eyes. He wanted to reach out and rub away your tears but refrained from doing so. The world seemed to close up on him. He missed the way it opened up with you.

“Y/N, angel? Say something.” Harry said with a soft voice. “Please.” He begged.

You turned to look at him. Harry looked devastating. A handsome prince you dreamt of as a kid. He was a prince, but not yours to claim rather only to keep for a fleeting moment. You brought a hand to his face and smiled sorrowfully at him.

“I suppose this is how things were supposed to be all along.” You whispered resignation etched in your voice.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, knowing the direction you were steering things in all too well.

“You have Sharon, Harry. Go to her.” You said.

Both of you sat there, time stretching painfully as if the universe was mocking your agony. Your eyes met one last time, a gaze full of regret and all things left unsaid. You leaned in, capturing Harry’s lips in your own for the last time. The kiss was hesitant at first, both of you afraid as if pressing too hard would shatter the fragile moment between you two. It was a kiss full of the things you couldn’t say, the dreams you had for one another, the conversations you shared.

And for Harry, as he kissed you a part of him mourned the confession that would never find its way to you. A three worded sentence, one that would change his life and yours.

I love you.

3rd May, 2014

1:17 p.m

“It’s amazing, how she’s just disappeared all of a sudden,” Sharon said, twirling her hair.

“Wait, who disappeared?” Harry asked her.

“Y/N.”

Harry and Sharon sat next to each other in her apartment. The wound you left in Harry’s heart was one he was doubtful would close. He dreamt of you, thought of you and longed for you. But he knew his thoughts would not materialise and you would only remain a figment of his past, a memorial of the right person wrong time concept.

“What do you mean?” He pressed the girl further.

“Ugh, I wasn’t supposed to tell this to anyone but I can’t keep it in me anymore. She’s leaving for Rio tomorrow, she’s got an internship at some sanctuary. I think the Sun would do her some good actually.” Sharon chuckled.

“Oh.” He felt his world was spinning.

“She's yet to give me my sweater. She’s actually supposed to give it today.”

Perhaps if it were fate, perhaps it was circumstance but whatever it was, Harry was thankful for it when the bell rang. “Don’t worry I’ll get it. You stay here.” He said and kissed Sharon’s head. He hoped it was you on the other side of the door.

And his prayers were answered.

There you were, standing in the doorway with a sweater in your hand. Your eyes widened slightly at Harry’s enormous yet so familiar frame, and his face, the same face that swept you off your feet now made you wary.

“You’re going to Rio?” Harry asked you.

“Yes. It’s an internship.” You curtly answered. You tried to walk in but Harry blocked your way, his muscled arm blocking your way.

“For how long?” He asked, cornering you as if you were prey and he a predator.

“Five years. They’ll start paying me after three months, so it’s more like a job I guess.” You said.

“And when were you going to tell me about it?” He asked you, his face stern and stoic.

“It’s not like we were dating.” You harshly said.

Harry hated this. This newfound sense of coldness between the two of you. He wondered how something so warm became so cold this quickly. The cold you left behind was one that could not be thawed, Harry would only have to live it.

“I love you Y/N,” Harry confessed. He didn’t miss the way your eyes softened, even if only for a moment.

“Lie to me again. I dare you.” You asserted, walking up to him. Your eyes were dark, distant and cold. Like a cold desert that never seemed to end.

“I’m not lying. I love you. I always have and always will.”

“I’d rather you not.”

—————-

A/N: Let me know how you like it in the comments and reblogs! I love talking to you all, send me asks and whatever you feel like! Thank you so much for reading!

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daily-grian · 2 years

Note

can you draw emo grian

Hehehe call that a G note

pun stolen from here <3

#cause. cause hes G and and wttbp and and and #mcyt #grian #hermitcraft #grian fanart #daily-grian #mod finch #the album has such bangers such as 'famous last birds'#mumbo we all go to hell??#the end <omg likef rom minecrfat #todays bird is gerard way #ask #anon

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asteriskemily · 4 months

Text

The fact that Ruben doesn’t remember what happened is absolutely sending me.

Like, imagine your name is Ruben Hopclap. You wake up in front of a ruined school gym wearing clothes you don’t recognize and missing your favorite necklace. You don’t remember falling asleep. Your chest hurts.

Uncle Henry is there talking to principal Auegfort over scraps of a robot. For a moment he looks at you like you’re a ghost before wrapping you in a tight hug. He asks what you remember. You tell him you remember packing your bag to go to the mountains of chaos for your spring break quest. You don’t remember anything after that. He hugs you again.

Your party’s there too. Most of them at least. Along with another party that you recognize as the Bad Kids, the most infamous party in your grade, maybe in the whole school. You tamp down any jealousy you might feel about that when you see the way that Mary Ann Almost-but-not-quite smiles at their barbarian. Instead you go to where Oisin and Ivy are huddle together, speaking softly to each other.

You ask where Kipperlily is. They look uncomfortable. For a moment you think about asking after Buddy, but then you realize you don’t know who that is. They keep avoiding answering the question, so you walk away. You almost go to talk to Lucy, but you see how uncomfortable she looks, how she flinches away when you start to move towards her. You decide to leave her alone.

Eventually Henry takes you home. On the drive home he turns on the radio and you hear yourself singing a song you’ve never heard. It’s loud and chaotic and so so angry. The sound of it makes you want to throw up. You turn it off and ride in silence back to the house.

The walls of your bedroom have been painted a deep, bloody red. There’s an electric guitar that you don’t know how to play leaning against the wall. Your desk is covered in notes and plans, some of it written in codes you can’t decipher. That doesn’t really matter because you don’t understand the stuff that’s not in code either.

Your parents look almost scared of you when you ask where your normal clothes are. They tell you that you got rid of them. They keep apologizing, like they think you’ll get mad at them. You tell them it’s okay, but still search your closet for something a bit more your style. You find a box shoved into a corner, under some clothes. Inside is your puka shell necklace and your ukulele. The string on the necklace is broken like it had been ripped off. The body of the ukulele is cracked like it had been thrown to the ground. You decide to deal with that in the morning.

You fall asleep and you dream of a girl. She’s a tiefling with red and black raccoon streaks in her hair. She smiles at you with lips painted black. If you stare at her for too long you can see blood dripping out of those lips and a crossbow bolt lodged in her side. You look at her and feel longing, feel grief, feel betrayal. You want to stop dreaming of her, but some part of you knows that any other dream would be filled with blood and crystals and rage. You accept that you are doomed to Wanda.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #dimension 20 fhjy #ruben hopclap #rat grinders #meta #i just keep thinking about him #and I keep thinking about the rest of the party walking on eggshells around him #none of them want to let him know what happened over the last year #i Didn’t expect Ruben to be the rat grinder that I get emotional about #but here we are #god and people coming up to him flooding him for autographs and he’s got no clue what he’s so famous for #he’s dodging calls from Lola embers because he doesn’t know who that is but apparently he’s supposed to release an album #and she says they won’t produce any of the music he sends her that he sings softly and plays of his ukulele #because she says that that’s not who ‘Ruben hopclap’ is #and at this point he has no clue who Ruben hopclap is #poor guy

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apuff-comics · 1 month

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normally i dont post fandom specific things but i had NO other ideas this week

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urdtarah · 5 days

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Ashnikko via Instagram (Dec 10th 2021)

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calciferstims · 3 months

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day 2 of @deadboystims’s 300 follower event

a board based on your favorite song/album!

I already made a board based on my favorite album here so I decided to base this on “paint the town red” instead :)

sources: 💋💋💋 | 🩸🥀🩸 | 💋💋💋

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taevisionceo · 2 years

Link

TAEVision 3D Design Applications Fashion Music NY NYC 'Dreams in RockefellerCenter - Famous Album' Fashion Music in NY NYC Manhattan ▸ TAEVision Engineering on Pinterest ▸ TAEVision Engineering on Google Photos

Data 374 - Nov 24, 2022

#TAEVision #engineering #3d #mechanicaldesign #fashion #music #NY #NYC #Dreams in Rockefeller Center #RockefellerCenter #FamousAlbum #famous album #Manhattan

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keirientez · 7 months

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band au rahhhhhhhhhhh

#i wanted to draw the other guardians too but this would be a good start #ok so #tsuna starts his band. yamamoto bass and gokudera keys and tsuna suprisingly drummer and also lead vocal. reborn appears out of nowhere-#being “youre not your full potential so i will drain you till youre like a fish in a dehydrator until you become the best out there.”#thats about it #but i just like how drumming singers are like extremely good music people because drumming is already hard. and singing too???#absolutely insane i might say. tsuna would do this (bc reborn told him so)#he does not want to be the best but reborn exists in the paro for a reason #reborn is like maybe a famous musician who faked his death then did whatever he wanted to do while he was “alive”. then he got tsuna as his #apprentice and so so. oh yeah also whiplash (the movie) reference bc holy shit its so good. for me at least. and reborn would make tsuna go #that kind of crazy. like training until drenched in sweat from morning to night or whenever hes available. bc he knows he has potential #he just need someone to push him beyond his expected limit #btw 8059 implied #gokudera joined the band first bc yeah then comes yamamoto for fun as he had to rest from playing baseball a bit too enthusiastic #gokudera hated him so much for like being dumb??? (the goofy ah laugh) but then the two dated even before reborn made a move on tsuna #its very funny but they work it out #i was also thinking if the band ever do solos or do something not as the whole band 8059 will have their own album. itll be great #for genre im not sure?? lets just say alt rock electrojazz????#no idea but maybe ill make a playlist. maybe #sawada tsunayoshi #reborn #yamamoto takeshi #gokudera hayato #8059 #r27

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jakeperalta · 4 months

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I know that I should know better! I don't think I wanna get better! so obsessed! I'M SO OBSESSED..... I'm still here....... in my loafers (with a smoothie!) and I saw you and your girlfriend—SURE I don't know she's your girlfriend!!! well fucking SUE ME 'cause at least then we could TALK!!!!!!!!!

#the good witch album you will always be famous #maisie peters #lyric posting

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watermelonsugacry · 2 years

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Hey! Hope everything’s going good! Was thinking if bandmember did anything like the vanity fair Billie eilish videos when they watch back all those interviews. Would love to see how far our girl has come

YN YLN: Same Interview, The Sixth Year | Vanity Fair

A/N: Christmas break is coming up so been busy but I also have some stuff coming out soon for your lovies! 💚

SINCE 2010 masterlist

“Year six, baby,” YN smirks at the camera. “Alright—” She pulls on the tops of her pink sheer opera gloves that match her pink corset before clapping her hands together. “—Let’s do this. ‘Ello, m’name is YN YLN. Today’s date is October 18, 2022.”

How old are you?

“I’m 23 years old.”

“I’m 24.”

“25.”

“26.”

“27.”

“M’28 years old,” YN kisses her teeth. “M’pushing 30, mate.”

How many followers do you have on Instagram?

“I have 573K followers on Instagram.”

“8.7M.”

“60.9M.”

“94.8M.”

“106M.”

“I currently have 287 million followers on Instagram. Dunno why I have so many; I make a lot of shit posts.”

What is your most liked picture on Instagram?

2017:

“My most liked picture is one of me and the boys huddled up backstage after our last performance together with 654K likes.”

2019:

“It is a picture of me in my home recording studio with about 5 million likes.”

2022:

“It’s currently one of me photo dumps on tour. The first picture on that one is a selfie with Harry taking a bite out of m’cheek. This one has 60,036,819 likes. Which is way too many likes if m’being honest.”

How are you feeling today?

2022:

“M’feeling really good. I always look forward to these interviews. I try me best not to look at the old videos more than once so that I can best prepare meself for my current answers, yeh know? But I love that I get to do this every year. There’s a lot of like, time lapse compilation videos on meself on YouTube that show off how far I’ve come over the years but these I feel are the least cringy ones,” YN lets out a laugh.

Biggest thing to happen in your career?

2021:

“I won a Grammy for producer of the year?” YN furrows her eyebrows as she juts her chin out. “Wha’ is life? That’s insane. The highlight of me career. Hands down.”

2022:

“It’s still the highlight of me career. And I got nominated for it again for Grammys 2023. To even be nominated and be the only woman in this category a second year in a row is just super fookin’ wild. Um...I got seven other Grammy nominations for next year. I’m also on tour again—a world tour—and it’s definitely me favorite thing to do aside from making the actual music. Harry’s new album that we’ve been workin’ on for over the past two-ish years finally came out earlier this year. I’m dropping me third album before the year is up. So many good things have happened this year that it’s honestly too long to list.”

How often do you get recognized in public?

2017:

“Pretty often,” She nods her head, a chuckle pushing past her lips. “It’s pretty hard to just go out and grab a bite to eat without getting surrounded.”

2020:

“Public? Who is she? I dunno her,” YN teases. “It’s pretty rare that I’ll go out nowadays and the masks only help so much with trying to be lowkey on the street on stuff like tha’.”

2022:

“I have to admit, v’gotten a lot better at being discreet when going out in public,” She nods her head with a knowing smile. “I think I was just so used to not being ‘allowed’ to go outside or if I did I wouldn’t enjoy meself because I knew I was gonna get recognized by paps. It was really hard for baby YN there because of how everything started. Everything I did was in the public eye and no matta’ what I did, me fans always knew where I was at all times it seemed,” YN hums.

“I love me fans and I love the times when we happen to see each other on the street, we can have like a genuine conversation instead of shoving yeh phone in me face and putting yeh hands on me without me permission. I’ve had the most amazing conversations with fans like tha’ those moments are super special to me.

But in all honesty, they need to get hired by the FBI or somethin’. Knowin’ where m’gonna be before I even do,” She huffs out a chuckle.

What’s most important to you right now?

2020:

“The relationships within me life. I think this year has really made me recognize that. Whether those relationships are with me mum, me boyfriend, me tour team, me dancers, the fans—they’re all super important to me. Makin’ sure that we’re all safe and healthy—mentally and physically—now more than ever.”

2022:

“All of which are still very important to me. I think v’also learned to stay in touch with me emotions. I think in an industry like this, it can be very easy to just put on a mask or passively go through events to maintain an image. If I’m doing something—wether it be somethin’ major or not, I want to allow m’self to be in the moment.

I did a show recently in Austin and...” The crease between her eyebrows disappear and smile etches itself on her lips at the memory, “I was singing POV and I just stopped singing and the crowd took over. I quite literally just stood there, took out me earpieces and just listened to a stadium full of people sing my song back to me. It made me feel so...it made me feel really good, really happy.”

Do you feel pressure?

2017:

“I do yeah,” YN nods with a sincere furrow of her eyebrows. “But I have been feeling pressure for the majority of my career so I’m mostly used to it by now; It doesn't bother me as much anymore.”

2022:

“Of my fookin’ word,” She throws her head back. “I can’t even—like even the way I spoke, man. Can yeh hear that? Like, I was still in the mindset of having to change the way I talk, tweak me accent and act all prim and proper,” YN points a finger into her mouth as she sticks out her tongue.

“And what a lie. Like of course that pressure bothered me still! I was fresh into the hiatus, just dropped me first solo album, about to do a world tour by meself for the first time. I was dealin’ with so much that I remember the pressure of everything was just...it felt that I was gonna be squished into a pancake. Being in the band and being as big as we were, there was an immense amount of pressure for everything to keep going well; everything seemed like it had to get bigger and bigger and if I didn’t live up to that standard as a solo artist, it was the end of the world to me.”

“I do still feel some pressure but definitely not to that extent anymore. It’s more of like, a good pressure, I’d say. It keeps me from resting on me laurels and it makes me continue to work hard to improve meself. Like, just because I won an award for produce of the year doesn’t mean that m’gonna let it get to me head and just not work to better meself in that craft.

But I have to admit that a lot of that pressure has been lifted off of me from me fans. They’ve just continued to give me their unconditional love and support—whether it be for a year, 2 years, 12 years—m’just super grateful that they just allow me to be me, flaws and all.”

What did you eat today?

2020:

“I ate some grilled chicken—that I made all by myself—with a side of some beans,” YN giggles as she knows by now that the fans have been having a laugh about her boyfriend’s baked beans comment over interviews in quarantine.

2021:

“I had a chicken caesar salad bowl that I probably put way too much dressing on to be considered healthy anymore,” She chuckles, playing with the chunky chain sitting on her collarbones.

2022:

“I actually had an amazing chicken wrap this morning. Just the right amount of protein and yumminess,” She pats her tummy with a content smile. “Yeh girl likes chicken, what can I say?”

Are you aware of people when you're playing?

2019:

“I think so yeah. It’s crazy because for me, it’s scarier to play in front of 6 people than 60 thousand people. But on the other hand, the noisiness of big crowds is super calming to me. I can’t really explain how. Like right before m’gonna go on stage, I like to take out me ear-pieces and just listen to them scream...which now makes me sound like a serial killer of summ’wat,” YN’s shoulders bunch up to her ears as she giggles.

2022:

“I would say that m’more aware of the audience members now more than I ever have before. This current tour that m’on is probably the funnest tour so far and it’s really because of the fans. When m’on stage and when I’m performing, I make sure to look at the people in the audience, yeh know? Like, I can still remember when the band did our first stadium tour, I honestly couldn’t see anything; they were all just blurbed together.

But with this tour, I make sure to take the time during the show to talk with fans. And I make an effort to sing to them and look at them dancing in the pit, the outfits they recreate, the way some of them are just closing their eyes and just being in the moment. As a musician, to see people come to me show and to see how they create this environment where everyone can have fun and let loose and just have a good time is just super amazin’. It’s a really indescribable feeling.”

Are you more confident this year compared to last year?

2018:

“From last year to now? 100%,” She answers with ease, leaning back into her seat. “I think this is the most confident I’ve ever felt, I think. M’not too worried about what people are sayin’ about me because let’s face it, they are always saying something. So if yeh like me, cool. If yeh don’t, cool.”

2022:

“She’s not wrong. 2018 YN’s ego was pretty up there. Granted, me ego is still growing and sensitive so—” YN shamelessly shrugs and puts her hands up in defense. “—Take tha’ as you will. But I definitely feel more confident and secure in who I am as a person and as an artist. When the boys and I went our separate ways musically, I had a hard time sort of, figuring out what I like and the kind of music I wanted to make for meself. Even the way I thought about fashion, I knew people saw me in skirts and things like that but I remember entertaining the idea of if I wanted to continue that as a security blanket of sorts.

When I was in the band, I took things with a grain of salt and m’very happy that I’ve kept that with me.”

Biggest rumor about you?

2017:

“That I’ve slept with each of the 1D boys,” YN lets out a nervous laugh. “Which is gross because they’re all like my brothers.”

2018:

“Where do I even begin?” YN blows out a raspberry. “I’ve been gettin’ this one for literally years now but that m’dating my old bandmate, Harry—which is getting really old at this point,” She scrunches up her nose with a roll of her eyes.

2022:

YN bursts out laughing as she watches her old self answer, knowing full well that during that time period she was in the midst of her on-and-off relationship with Harry.

She tilts her head to the side with a quick raise of her eyebrows, “I mean, she’s not wrong. V’been getting that question/comment asked since we were on the XFactor. And believe it or not, I still get asked that question. I just answer it differently now,” She cheekily brings her shoulder to her chin.

What do you hate being asked?

2018:

“That. The ‘who are you dating?’ question. For a long time, I just had to suck it up and just answer the question but I don’t have to answer if I don’t want to, y’know? Also, I’m my own person,” She begins to list things off of her fingers, “I’m not someone’s arm candy, m’not so-and-so’s new girl. I’m YN YLN and if all you ask me is if I’m dating anyone rather than me music, you don’t deserve my time.”

2022:

YN drops her jaw and the corners of her lips tug up in a smile.

“A feisty little thing she is,” She chuckles. “But no truer words have ever escaped me mouth. She’s right, and I still stand by that. 100%. My career is not based around a guy or who m’dating. That’s not to say I hate talking about Harry—I love to talk about him but don’t make it the whole point of the interview, yeh know?”

Craziest fan moment?

2021:

“Me first show back on tour after being held back in 2020 was really heartwarming. It a stadium show—not intimidating at all for me first show back—” YN sarcastically comments. “—so there were three levels of seating: the pit, the middle section, and then the top. While I was singing, the audience did a fan project where on the top section held up lights to read welcome back, and then the middle said we missed you, and the pit held up pieces of paper saying we love you. M’not even gonna lie, I was bawlin’ me eyes out. Like, just thinking of the amount of work that went into that...” She shakes her head in disbelief.

2022:

“I did a show last week in LA and at the barricade, I saw this lineup of these 5 girls wearing my current and past tour outfits. I have seen some really good recreation of me fits before and it was honestly like a copy and paste, I was so shocked. After talking with them for a bit—now I don’t ever do this—but I invited them to come up on stage with me,” YN laughs.

“I suggested we ditch the choreography for Kiss Me More but they insisted they knew it and sure enough,” YN throws her hands with another laugh. “I almost hired them on the spot!”

Do you have a boyfriend?

2017:

“Um, no. I do not have a boyfriend. I’m just really focused on my music at the moment. That’s my boyfriend,” She lets out a chuckle.

2020:

YN playfully rolls her eyes and throws her hands up, “Well I’d be the biggest liar in the world if I said no.”

She huffs out a giggle as she refers to the entire world finding out about her secret relationship with Harry on New Years Eve of that year.

2021:

“I do have a boyfriend,” She smirks at the camera with a shrug of her shoulder, leaving it at that.

2022:

YN takes a second longer to answer this question and stares at the laptop screen with a fond smile. She technically doesn’t have a boyfriend anymore, but will she let them know that? Nope.

“Well, you’d all be happy to know that Harry and I are still very much together. Still got that boy locked down, ladies,” She playfully winks at the camera with a click of her tongue.

What makes you happy in a relationship?

2022:

“I like quality time. From staying inside 24/7 in 2020 to easing back into my busy schedule made H and I realize that it was important to set some time aside for ourselves, just the two of us. Like, we don’t even have to be talking just as long as we’re together during the business of it all. And...” A smirk grows on her lips, “One of me love languages is physical touch. It definitely wasn't on the list before so you can probably guess who made me this way but yeah. And music, of course, that’s me main form of love language. Whether we’re listening to good music, making it, singing it—anything to do with it m‘in love.”

Describe your style in 3 words.

2017:

“Figuring it out.”

2018:

“No more skirts,” The 24-year-old rolls her eyes.

2019:

“Whatever is comfy,” She laughs as she wraps her light green cardigan tighter over herself.

2020:

“Trying new things.”

2021:

“Trousers and blazers.”

2022:

She tilts her head as she bites her lip, looking up as she thinks about how to compactly frame her style now. As she says the next three words, she holds up her hand to count it off on her fingers, “Pretty in pink. And 2018 YN was a lie. I still fancy a skirt every now and then.”

Biggest thing you’re struggling with?

2019:

“I think, just being honest with meself in terms of how I feel. I think I struggle a lot with allowing meself to feel the way I feel about certain things,” Or about a certain someone. “And that it's okay to feel those things. I know, super detailed,” She chuckles.

2022:

“Yeah, 2019 YN was certainly going through some personal issues. S’crazy to look back at these videos and remember wha’ I was feelin’ during that time. S’pretty crazy. I can say that v’grown immensely from that time of my life which is very comforting to know. It’s still hard for me, don’t get me wrong, but allowing myself to feel things like love or sadness or happiness is something that I’m subconsciously reminding myself to do.

I think the biggest thing that m’stuggling now with is to have check ins with meself. It’s safe to say that m’back to my busy, hectic, never-ending schedule so I want to take a breather every now and then. It can be a whole day, a whole 20 minutes, just a pause to check in with my mind, me body, me spirt to make sure m’okay and then be off to a career that I love very dearly.”

What advice would you give your future self?

2017:

“Have some fun and enjoy this new chapter that you’re venturing onto,” She nods with a smile.

2019:

“I would say to allow yourself to feel uncomfortable. Step out of your comfort zone and take that leap of faith.”

2022:

“What a genetic piece of advice for that first year, eh?” YN chuckles with a smirk, “Enjoy this new chapter you're venturing onto like yeh can hear how professional I wanted to sound,” She playfully rolls her eyes with a sigh. “I would say that 2019 YN’s advice is a good one though. It’s a good reminder to not play things safe all the time. As a narcissist, I want everything to be perfect, especially me music, so to be in the studio and not fall back to me old habits of what I think sounds good, try something different, yeh know? I like that a lot, actually.”

This is my mum...

2017:

“Everyone, say hello to Penny,” YN proudly presents as her stepmum comes up to her side, placing a hand on the back of her chair as she waves at the camera.

“‘Ello, lovelies,” Penny beams.

2018:

“Penny!” YN smiles brightly. When she wiggles her fingers towards her stepmum the sound of her rings clinking together can be heard.

When Penny walks up to her stepdaughter’s side, she puts her hands on top of YN’s red leather jacket to give her shoulders a squeeze.

“Hi baby,” Her stepmum gives a warm smile and gently presses her chin to YN’s temple.

2019:

Penny tucks her long, black hair behind her ears before wrapping her arms around her stepdaughter’s shoulders.

“I love you, my baby,” She says into her hair before planting a kiss on her head.

“I love youuu so much,” YN sings as she holds onto her stepmum’s forearms over her chest.

2020:

“Y’already know what time it is,” YN dances in her seat, her arms already extended out by her side. She lets out a laugh as she watches Penny shimmy her way to her stepdaughter’s side. The tight high waisted jeans show off her curvy, fit figure and a mask covers the lower half of her face.

“It’s Penny time,” Her stepmum throws finger guns at the camera.

2021:

“Come over ‘ere, mum,” YN nods her head over to Penny. Once she’s close enough, she takes a hold of her stepmum’s hand and pulls her over for her to sit on her lap, wrapping her arms over her torso, “Love you.”

“I love you more, baby,” Penny smiles as she leans her head back to rest beside YN’s.

2022:

“This is me mumma,” YN smiles warmly before cooing out a chuckle. “Wha’ happened?” She questions when she sees Penny walk over to her side with glossy eyes.

“Sorry, m’sorry,” She chuckles, dabbing her under eyes with the sides of her index fingers. “S’just really fookin’ cool to see how far you’ve come. Like look at her—” Penny points to the laptop screen that has 2017 YN on display. “—me lil’ baby.”

“Mum!” YN laughs when Penny wraps her arms around her daughter’s head and pulls it to her chest.

Taglist:

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sweet-creature101 · 6 months

Text

Envelopes and Punches

Harry Styles, a rich and wealthy boy falls in love with a poor girl who scams the rich for a living and simply does not care of what the world has to say about it.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, violence and swearing.

Your heart pounded as you ran, your shoes squeaking against the wet pavement. The earphones in your ears blasted songs as you ran. This was your escape, an escape from the life you had at home and school. While running, no thought crossed your head. No thought of how to make money, how to get food on the table or how to get through another day of school full of entitled rich kids.

If there was anything you had learnt in your seventeen years of existence, it was that life has a way of becoming ruthless. One simple law governed your whole life and it was “every man for himself.” Years of living in poverty had taught that the only way to survive is by either scamming the rich or stealing money; food stamps and social security cheques could only bring in so much.

You reach your house after your daily morning run. The small fence gate flung open with a single push. The stench of alcohol and cigarettes reach your nose, it used to make you recoil internally earlier but you soon got used to it. Your mother was lying on the sofa flicking through programmes on the television. You sighed deeply as you removed your earphones and stood in your living room with your arms crossed.

“Mom, it's seven in the morning, stop watching the television.” You took a glass of water and walked over handing it to her. In the distance, through your window you saw a truck unloading boxes and a bunch of people your age handing them out “What's that going on?” You asked your mother.

“Volunteers. Think they can make this shithole better by handing out a few boxes.” Your mother scoffed. “Don’t ya have school?” She added, eying you suspiciously.

“I do.”

**********************

School was awful. Being on a scholarship and poor in a school full of rich kids did not work in your favour. The students here did not express their contempt for you in a straightforward manner but you knew it was there, flowing like a steady undercurrent. You knew that they disliked you from the way they easily dismissed you, averted their gaze from you and simply ignored you. You only had two friends, Angela and Zayn. Both of them were on scholarships just like you.

“Did you see trucks outside your house?” Zayn asked, swirling the spaghetti around his fork, slightly grimacing at the sound.

“Yeah, didn't let me sleep. I almost skipped school because of that shit.” Angela said grumbling.

“You always want to skip.” You pointed out earning an eye roll from her.

“That's besides the point. Oh by the way, y’know who's the new football captain? Zayn just loves him.” Angela said, raising her eyebrows, a mischievous smile on her face. “It's Harry Styles.” Zayn said huffing, “I almost thought of quitting but then I realised that the minute I quit, they send me out of here.”

“What's so bad about him?” You asked, stuffing fries in your mouth.

“He’s a stiff. Too nice. All he does is smile.” Zayn said, rolling his eyes.

“That's what you don't like about him?” You asked, your eyebrows raised at Zayn. He flipped you off and poked his tongue at you.

“I need to get to class, can’t get another tardy slip.” Angela said getting up and brushing down her top with her hands. “I’ll walk you.” Zayn got up and stood looking at Angela. “And they say chivalry is dead.” You remarked winking at Zayn who turned into a deep crimson.

You sigh deeply and pick up your bag, your legs groaning in pain from all the relentless running you’d been doing. Walking out the cafeteria you don’t notice the crowd of boys coming your way. You take out your phone and scroll through your text messages, the last one from your mother telling you that she’ll be late coming from work. Too immersed in answering her text you didn’t notice what was about to happen.

You bump into a hard body, your shoulder bearing the brunt of it. “Hey, watch where you’re going scumbag.” One of the boys warned you. You square your shoulders and look him in his eyes, a challenge etched in your burning eyes. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, prick.”

Harry saw it all unfurl in front of him. Jason always had a way of letting his temper get the best of him, after getting decimated in practice he was left in a sour mood. But here Harry was, watching a girl half Jason’s weight challenge him as she stared at him, her kohl smudged eyes not blinking. Harry knew who you were, the school did. Perhaps that's why no one ever talked to you or your friends. “The band of exiles” is what his friends called you and your friends.

“Keep moving.” A voice called from behind. Harry knew who that was, it was their coach who could see the potential outcome of this. Jason scowled at you and moved. You rolled your eyes and walked ahead.

“Hey, I’m Harry. Sorry about that, Jason’s never been nice.” Harry said, his hand finding the back of his neck as he scratched it nervously. Harry looked at you and thought you were nothing short of beautiful. He didn’t miss the kohl smudged around your eyes, your thick lashes or the curve of your lips.

“I’m Y/N. It's fine, don’t apologise for him although he could use getting his teeth knocked out once a while just to keep him in line once a while y'know.” You said, smiling a bit. Harry chuckled, feeling a warm bubble grow in his chest.

“Of course I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry said nodding, his smile wide and pearly.

“You are the captain after all.” You said, shrugging lightly.

“You know that?” Harry asked you a bit surprised at your awareness of this.

“I’m in enemy territory, I need to keep my eyes and ears open.” You said smiling and looking down at the ground, suddenly aware of the holes in the sleeves of your tee shirt. You immediately hide your arms behind your back.

Harry wasn’t stupid nor was he oblivious. He noticed what you did and why you did it. The inside of his chest flamed a bit on seeing you hide yourself. “You’re not in enemy territory with me Y/N.”

“We’ll see about that Harry.”

**************************

“You have to come with me Y/N. Come on, it’ll be fun!” Angela said, twirling around her room with a dress in her hand.

“I have no clothes Angie, at least none for parties besides I have to make phone calls tonight.” You said, sighing as you flopped on her bed, the broken springs squeaking under your weight.

“You can scam the rich later.” Angela chuckled. She opened her cupboard, which was covered in splinters and had a broken knob but did the job. Although you weren’t sure if it wasn’t infested with termites.

The room had a low ceiling, a single cupboard, a small wrought iron bed and a dresser with an attached mirror. Your room was the exact same, except the fact that even your wooden floorboards were falling apart in some places although you had decorated it with fairy lights all over.

“How am I supposed to pay for food, electricity or even water then?” You questioned her.

“Tomorrow, make as many calls as you want, hell even rob someone. But tonight you’re a free bird.” Angela tapped on.

“Where are we even going?” You asked her, looking at the cracks in the ceiling. Angela smiled triumphantly at her win.

“Niall's house.” She said, wiggling her brows.

“Horan?”

“Yeah, we’ve been talking on and off so he called me over at this party he’s having tonight.” She said, looking at herself in the mirror.

You thought over it, you needed the money desperately. You’d just have to call your usual clients (rich men who cheated on their wives) at the party itself.

“Fine. Let’s go then.” You said getting up.

“You can't go like this.” Angela said, eying you up and down. You wore a loose white tank top that had a rather deep neck than what you usually wore, a pair of mini black shorts and your dirty converse that were on the verge of tearing apart.

“Watch me.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“At Least let me straighten your hair. And do your makeup. And lend you my jewellery. And-”

“No, that's all you can do, Ang.” You shot back.

“Okay fine. Now sit.”

It took you over an hour and another thirty minutes to reach Niall's house which was across the city. Of course, the rich wouldn’t live anywhere near the faulty neighbourhoods. Which is why you hated being here, standing near the pool, watching the same people you avoided at school watch you. The drink in your hand didn’t have the effect you expected it to.

Might as well get work done. You thought to yourself.

You brought out your phone and opened the list of phone numbers you had smuggled in from a friend who worked in charities and had a knack for observation about who glanced too long at who. Stalking these men outside The Ritz, the most expensive hotel in town on Fridays also helped your cause. You dialled the first number, waiting for the man to pick up.

“Hello?” A heavy and gruff voice answered from the other end.

“Am I speaking to Raymond Sturgis?” You asked, your sweet as if it were dripping with honey.

“Yes, who is this?”

“It doesn’t matter. I know you meet up with Chayenne every Tuesdays, Thursdays and the weekend outside the Ritz at approximately 6:30, maybe even 7:00 depending on traffic. God knows what your wife would think of that? She’d divorce you, claim her share in the company which- correct me if I’m wrong, is a whopping sixty percent. Oh and also claim custody of your kids.” You said smugly.

“What do you want?” The voice on the other end had become visibly strained.

“Four thousand dollars, cash.”

“I could easily report you. You’d go to prison for this.”

“By time the police reach I’d have already mailed your wife pictures of you and the lovely Chayenne.”

“Fine. Where should I drop the cash?”

You told your usual address, a park fifteen minutes away from your house and to drop the cash by midnight. You sigh and sit down at the lounge chair staring at the water.

“You’re knee deep in enemy territory, soldier.”

You heard the familiar voice, a smile finding its way on your lips. You turn your head and find that all too familiar face smile at you, eyes glazed and a lazy smile with two bottles in hand.

“I see you bear gifts.” You said, smiling just as he did.

“That I do. Beer or breezer or whatever is in this cup?”

“I’ll take the cup and beer.” You said.

Harry sat down next to you, your knees and thighs touching. “Been over a week since I last talked to you, although I keep on seeing you everywhere.” Harry said. You almost choked on your drink at his uncalled confession.

“Why didn’t you approach me then?” You asked him, turning your face to look at him. You thought he looked handsome, handsome in a rugged way. You breathed in his deodorant. Maybe it was the alcohol, although it barely acted but you wanted to kiss him.

“Asked myself the same thing every day.”

The last Harry talked to you was when he needed notes in English. He tried to concoct funny if not odd reasons to talk to you and here you were, sitting next to Niall’s pool where Harry had drowned far too many times.

“I wished you did.” You spoke suddenly, drawing Harry out of his trance.

“Talk to you?”

“Yeah.Wait,” You said, downing the whole bottle of beer in a single breath, grimacing at the taste. “I like you Harry, like talking to you. You’re better than most people here, other than me of course. But you see me, not just look at me. That’s got to count for something.”

Harry felt his heart leap at your words.

“Fraternising with the enemy, guess you’re not that good of a soldier after all.” Harry said chuckling, tucking a loose strand of your hair. He didn't miss the way your cheeks flushed a deep crimson nor did he miss the way you quickly averted your gaze from his eyes to the ground. He would’ve found this change in demeanour amusing had he not been harbouring the intense desire to kiss you.

“Shut up.”

*****************************

Days of talking turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. You and Harry had been friends for over two months. Two months of drinking on rooftops of buildings you didn’t know existed, two months of getting to know each other, two months of having the bubble of feelings you had for him grow bigger and two months of still wanting to grab his face and kiss him.

And you never wanted to kiss him as much as you did now, locked in a tiny broom closet at Niall's House. The alcohol in your system didn’t help either. Your self control was being tested with every passing second.

“Seven minutes have never felt longer.” Harry chuckled, breaking the ice. You both were standing close enough that you could feel his hand brush yours, his chest leaving a phantom touch.

“Don’t sweat it Styles.” You mumbled.

“You know, I never noticed how pretty you are.” Harry said, a smile appearing on his face. You blushed furiously.

“Shut up.”

“No, that's a lie. I saw how pretty you are the minute I set eyes on you.”

You quickly averted your eyes to the ground, looking at your shoes.

“Y/N, look at me. Please.” Harry kept a finger under your chin and nudged your face towards his.

“Don’t do this Har.” You said, peering into his clear green eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss you and we’re both drunk and then we’ll never talk about it and then we’ll forget about it and then-”

“Shh. It’s okay. I’ll kiss you when you’re sober. Promise.” Harry shushed you, placing a finger on your lips.

“You don’t have to promise.” You mumbled against his fingers.

“I want to.” He smiled at you, hooking a hand around your waist and dragging you closer.

“Okay.” You said, smiling slightly.

“But for now,” Harry kissed the corner of your lips.

“Are you always this cheeky?” You questioned laughing.

“Only with you.”

***************

“Move it to the left.”

“Are you stupid mate?”

“Oh wait, move a bit towards the right.”

Out of all the ways Harry imagined spending his weekend, delivering boxes of essential goods to an abandoned neighbourhood in the south side was not what he expected.

“Ugh when do we go home?” Blair asked, looking up from her phone. Loose strands of blonde hair had escaped her ponytail which now came down to frame her face.

“Not until afternoon so sit tight.” Jason said, carrying a load of boxes.

“Jeez, we have to give them a toothbrush too? Like isn’t that three pounds?” The irritated girl said, peeking into the boxes in front of her.

“Less talking, more work. That means you too Blair.” Harry said checking off boxes in this list he carried.

Harry often found his mind wandering to you. Thinking of you, your smile, your laugh, your eyes and anything remotely related to you. He wondered where you were, what you were doing right now.

“Did I tell you my dad got threatened?” Blair said, blowing a bubble of the gum in her mouth.

“What?” Harry immediately forgot about the list in his hand and diverted his attention to the blonde.

“Yeah. Someone just called out of nowhere and told him to leave money in a park or else she’d leak some information.” She said casually.

“A park?” Jason asked snorting.

“Yeah and it’s not too far from here either.” Blair continued.

Harry merely hummed. He particularly didn’t care about what happened to Blair’s dad and certainly didn’t care that he had to bear a bit of damage. From a distance, he saw a figure running. He thought it looked like you but blamed it on wishful thinking.

Harry didn’t realise it was you until he could properly see you. You were running, your hair was bound in a loose ponytail. He saw you were wearing his favourite shorts, short enough to show your legs yet long enough to just cover your butt. The tight black tank top you wore left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Harry called out, smiling wide.

You look at him and his friends like a deer blinded by headlights. Your grip tightened around the envelope in your hand, hoping Blair wouldn’t notice that it was her fathers company logo embossed onto it. You silently cursed that man as a fool once you saw that he sent his company envelope.

“Harry, hi. I didn’t expect to see you here.” You nervously chuckled. Harry walked towards you, slinging an arm around your waist drawing you closer. You could feel his hand go lower and lower.

“Are you here to help us?” Blair asked you, eyeing you up and down.

“Oh, no. I went out for a walk.” You replied.

“In this neighbourhood?” She further questioned you, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“I live here.” You stated firmly, waiting for the taunting, name calling or anything of the sort. You felt Harry straighten behind you.

“Oh.” The taunting never came. You couldn’t decide what was worse, contempt or pity.

“Yeah well I better get going.” You said, sensing the shift in environment. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” You told Harry, turning around to kiss him on the cheek.

Harry blushed slightly, squeezing your waist tighter. “Of course”

You begin to walk, half relieved that no one noticed the big logo on the envelope in your hand.

“Hey! Wait”

Spoke too soon.

You turn around to find Blair looking at you, her arms crossed and her expression morphed into one of accusation.

“Show me that envelope.” She demanded, walking closer to you.

You stand straighter, your shoulders squared. “What’s it to you?” You retort back.

Blair came behind you and suddenly snatched the envelope. “You bitch,” She spat at you. “You’re the one who’s been threatening my dad. How low can you go?”

“It’s nothing he didn’t deserve.” You said calmly.

“I knew letting in people like you in our world was a mistake. You’re nothing but scum. We all know your mom gives blowjobs and we all know that you’re going to carry the family legacy.” Blair taunted, laughing dryly at you.

“Shut up you don’t know anything.” You said, desperately trying to hone the storm inside of you.

“No Y/N, trust me I do know. I know that you’re going to be the neighbourhood whore, like your mom. That’s all you’re good for. You’re a nobody. You always were and you always will be.”

The rage you felt in that moment was blinding. You had to fight back, if not for who you are right now then for the five year old girl you used to be. That small timid girl who would flinch at every noise, every echoing gunshot and everything.

You tackled the girl to the ground and punched her. You keep on punching her, swallowing your sobs as you drained out her screams and everyone else’s around you. You feel hands drag you away from the girl and hurl you to the ground.

“Y/N stop. You’re better than this.” Harry looks at you, with soft eyes.

“Is she though?” Jason asked, carrying Blair to the truck. You avert your gaze to the boy in front of you.

“Yeah, what you’ll beat me too? Try me bitch.”

Bitch. Scum. Lowlife. Nobody. Whore.

“I’m not a bitch.” You say, your voice hoarse.

“Can’t say the same.” Jason curtly replied.

You look at him with angered eyes, certain that if you could blow steam, you would be doing so right now.

“You know what Jason, maybe I am a bitch. Maybe I’m a lowlife, scum, a whore, a nobody or maybe even all of those things.” You said, getting up walking to him.

You punch him square in the face, breaking his nose. You wanted him to hit. You wanted him to hit you hard, hard enough to knock you out. And he did. You felt pain sear straight from your stomach upto your eye, like a hot brand marking your skin.

And then everything went dark.

*************

Radio silence. Three days had gone by since your cards had been laid bare, three days since you had beat up Blair, three days since you had gotten beaten up, three days since you last heard from Harry. It was unbearable, this constant pining and anxiety. Which is why, the second you got the text from Harry asking you to meet him, you didn’t hesitate before saying yes.

You sat on your usual bench, waiting for Harry. There were a million things you wanted to say, a million things on your mind and a million more you wanted to ask. You heard the shuffling of footsteps and knew who it was.

“Hey.” You looked over to see Harry. He looked devastatingly handsome tonight.

“Hi.” You said back, looking down.

“Let me take a look at you.” Harry said, hooking a finger under your chin. You refused to meet his gaze. He felt his heart grind a bit at your reaction. “Look at me, please?” Harry asked softly.

Your eyes met his and you felt tears spring up in your eyes. You bit your lip to keep it from wobbling. “Hey hey, don’t cry. I’m not leaving you Y/N. I’m here for you okay?” Harry said, kneeling down so that he was face to face with you, taking your hands in his.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You deserve so much better.” You sob, completely breaking down.

Harry hugs you tight, holding you until you calm down. “What does a mermaid wear to math class?” Harry asked you.

“What?” You mumble, your face squished against his shoulder.

“An algae-bra.”

You laugh, your head feeling better. “It’s so bad Har.”

“Ah there’s my girl.” Harry said, pulling away, smiling at you. “I like it when you laugh.” He said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“So, scamming huh?” Harry asked you, sitting beside you.

You sighed through your nose. “Before you call me unethical, I only do that to men who cheat on their wives, it’s easier that way.” You said looking up.

“Well, at least someone’s maintaining the justice system.” Harry chuckled.

“How’s Blair?” You asked him.

“Not as bad as you, she doesn’t have a black eye like you. She’s healing and she’s decided not to press charges.” Harry replied.

“Thank God.” You sighed in relief.

“You wanted Jason to hit you, didn’t you?” Harry looked at you, asking you the question you knew he would.

“Yeah.” You mumbled quietly.

“Why?”

“Because everyone at school calls me a lowlife, scum and what not. It angers me. It makes me want to scream and yell and shout. The only way I escape that anger is when I’m sleeping.”

“So that’s why you wanted him to hit you. To escape.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“No, it’s not but don’t do it again. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Okay.”

You scoot closer to Harry, placing your head on his shoulder and holding his hand. You felt safe. You felt happy. You felt at home.

“Y/N?” He called out your name. You look at him, the moonlight illuminating the crests of his cheekbones. You bring a hand up to trace them.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask him.

“You beat me to it.” Harry said, smiling at you.

He suddenly took your face in his hands and kissed you. He kissed you long and hard, like a man starving for food. The bubble in your chest exploded. The world around you suddenly didn’t matter. A mosaic of sensation exploded around you as you kept on kissing him, your hands travelling around every inch of his body, savouring him slowly.

Harry pulled away, kissing the inside of your wrists, your neck and then your nose.

“No matter what happens Y/N, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what the world says. You can trust me and I swear on my life, I won’t hurt you.” Harry told you. You felt your eyes burn again. “Stop making me cry so much.” You half chuckled.

“Great, I still have to ask if you’ll date me. I reckon that’ll make you cry more.” Harry said.

You squealed in happiness, tackling him down the bench as you both fell to the ground. You kissed him long and hard.

“Yes Harry. Yes”

Authors note: So how are we feeling about this? Let me know in the comments if you liked it or not. Talk to me and interact, I love it when you do.

All the love,

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