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mikwaa · 11 months

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I'll always miss you, you will shine like gold in my memory.

Zhongli x Reader

Wc: 2.7k

Warnings: Angst, hurt no comfort, reader dies. Toxic relationship, Morax is an idiot brute, this is set in the Archon war, reader is a warrior.

A/n: I had this draft written here a while ago, decided to post it because it's one I really like. As the old Morax is described as a more rough and ruthless person, I imagine that for him to change there had to be a major event. And so I ended up writing this, maybe I'll do another ending because I genuinely don't like sad endings, but it went together so well I decided to leave it like this.

"Morax, please listen to me." And there you were, in one of those endless fights with your husband.

The reason this time was that you had found a group of people, begging for a place to stay, since they were wandering around. This group had been exiled from Sumeru, the reasons were not yet clear, nor did they know why. There were children, elders, even young pregnant women, you couldn't just ignore them and let them die.

And you had offered them a home in the Guili Plains, the place where the Liyue population was housed. But Morax did not accept, nor did he seem to want to change his mind.

"I've said what I think, and I'm not going to change it." And he didn't even look at you, on the contrary, he walked even faster to distance more from you.

"Can you stop being so irreverent?" You quicken your steps and stand in front of him, stopping him from moving forward.

He narrowed his eyes in your direction, his face turning into an angry frown, "I told you, don't make me repeat myself. If you choose to save those people, you can forget about coming back. I don't want you around." His words were sharp as blades, wounding as such.

And seeing his face without a drop of expression, without a single regret. How could he say such impactful things as if they were nothing?

"How can you talk like that? I'm your spouse, I'm just trying to help." You could already feel tears forming in your eyes, he always acted like a brute, but there were times you couldn't even handle it.

"You can help me by protecting my people, not by harboring strangers." The coldness with which he spoke to you was abysmal, it didn't even seem like you had any kind of relationship.

"They are people too, they have feelings too. They are afraid to die, they are simply out in the open."

"I care what's mine, we're in a war, we can't save everyone. And I chose to take care of what is mine, my territory together with my people". He states, with that usual stoic face. With that arrogance and selfishness that would drive anyone crazy with rage.

"So that's still a no?" Breathing heavily you ask him one last time, the hope you had of him giving in had simply vanished.

"It was always a no. If you're going to keep talking about it, you can save both your time and mine." Snide and sharp, he never seemed to change.

"Then you won't want me here anymore, I suppose." To his surprise, you wouldn't give up. You would keep your word no matter what.

"Go ahead." Nothing more, not a sentimentality, nothing. Just treating you like you were just another one of his pawns, like you were just another one in the crowd.

A hot tear ran down your face, your heart burning as if it had been recently scalded.

"Are you really going to treat me like this? Like I'm nothing to you, and this ring means nothing?" You removed the ring, holding it with trembling hands.

The engagement ring, which he had made for you himself, was so beautiful. With jade detailing all over the ring, and even more precious was the message it had, 'It will always be you'. According to him, it was to show how much you meant to him.

And now? Were those beautiful words just thrown to the wind?

He huffed, looking incredibly upset and tired of this situation, but he didn't show you anything, he wasn't sad, sorry, guilty, nothing. As if none of this mattered.

"Have it your way." Completely indifferent he mumbles.

"Okay." You threw the ring away, without even looking at where it went," If it meant nothing to you, it meant nothing to me."

Now he seemed to take some notice of you, but was clearly displeased.

But there was no time for him to talk or complain to you, you ran out of there. He wanted to go after you, but the pride he carried in his chest was stronger.

A feeling of guilt invaded his heart, but he still wouldn't let his feelings get the better of him, because he believed that you would go back on your decision.

You wouldn't exchange him for a group of people you barely know, but that was exactly the point he didn't understand. It wasn't that he wouldn't help you, it was the way he dealt with certain issues. He was so focused and objective, that should be good, but it wasn't the case with him.

He always complained that you think too much about others, just as you complain that his behavior is often harsh and hostile. He believed that you would come back, but he was wrong, very wrong.

it had been three weeks since you had even dared to look at each other. He couldn't swallow his pride, and neither could you. That arrogance and selfishness he possessed could get on anyone's nerves, and you were not immune to it.

No matter how many times you tried to make him understand that things were not practical as he claimed they were, he would never understand, he was a real brute.

And that was the last straw for you, people were not objects that he could control as and when he wanted, and he didn't seem to want to understand that.

You had left the village, and had no desire to return. You had tucked yourself away in a simpler hut and in a place you suspected Morax wouldn't go near. Even though you loved him so much, you doubted if he would ever change.

It was so many doubts mixed with the anger you felt about the things he said, you took it out on the monsters you met in front of you, without letting a single one escape.

With quick and precise blows, you used your blade with an unmistakable dexterity. But even this was not enough for what would happen next. A monster that you didn't even know what it was hit you, and ended up hurting you.

You didn't even know where it came from, you didn't even have time to react. Your body heaved and you fell to the grass abruptly, as you felt a sharp pain run through your entire body.

And when you managed to stabilize yourself and look at the monster, it was no longer there. It had already turned to dust.

"You with this stubbornness. You can't even take care of yourself." From the familiarity in his voice, it wasn't hard to guess that it was your husband.

"Shut up." You mustered the strength to speak, it seemed as if your strength was draining away second by second.

Even in such a state, the weakness and frailty you were in didn't seem to make any commotion in Morax.

"If you knew you wouldn't be like this." So cold, so distant. Every word of his hurt so much.

How could he be so indifferent? So cruel.

"You won't even see your spouse? You won't even try to take care of me?" Even though you tried to sound strong and imposing, all that came out was a shaky, tired voice.

"I'm no specialist in this. Go find help somewhere else, I told you I don't want you around." It wasn't just anger, it was a feeling of someone who had been defied, you hadn't followed his orders, and he was hating you for it.

You had traded him, that's what he had in mind, but you didn't leave because of that. You loved him like crazy, and you had helped him in many ways. But he still needed to think more about others, trust humans more.

To learn to understand that people were not just pawns that he moved when and how he wanted, it was far from that. And now he was experiencing the fact that someone might not follow his orders, and that someone was you.

He went to look over his shoulder one last time, as he began to notice a pool of blood starting to form around you, he hurried his steps over to you.

"I have to take you, the healers will help." Bending down close to you he whispers. The sudden change in behavior that soon showed his desperation.

"You know they won't, there's nothing else to do." You couldn't control the tear that welled up in your eye.

It had been a very deep wound, you didn't need any healer to tell you that you were hopeless, the village was far away, there would be no time to get there. Several other warriors had died like this, and it would be no different with you.

His stoic expression turned to one of terror, his pride gone in a matter of minutes.

"Don't talk foolishness." He nestles you in his arms, carrying you so gingerly that it seemed he was afraid of hurting you with the slightest touch.

"Leave me here," he opened his mouth to protest, and you continued, "Please."

He propped you up on his chest, wrapping you in the clothes of his own body, so that you were properly protected.

"Why are you so stubborn? I can't understand you." For the first time you heard him speak in a broken voice, he was trying not to cry.

"I just want to save time, you know you don't have much to do." You gently caress his face.

He wanted to tell you so much, but he couldn't put it into words, ever.

"I shouldn't have acted like that." Finally, he admitted it. But now it was too late for any regrets.

You intertwined your fingers with his, smiling faintly. He could feel your strength fading little by little, and he could do nothing.

You were too fragile, just like all humans. And he could do nothing.

Nothing.

He couldn't believe it, how could a being as powerful as him be so powerless like that? That shouldn't be right, but it was.

"Please stay." He pleads, but how could you fulfill that request? His voice was so shaken it sounded almost unrecognizable.

For the first time he was losing one of his partners, he had always protected them all as best he could, and none of them had gone so far. But the first was you, his first big loss was you. How would he be able to handle it? No, he couldn't.

"I will never forget your eyes, they are so beautiful." You say softly, almost inaudible.

And he let a tear escape, all the armor he had made in his heart had broken, and he couldn't control it. It was the love of his life leaving, all he could do was watch, how could he be so useless at a time like this?

"Stay, keep your eyes open, I'll get help, I'll…" Not even he himself believed his own words, much less believed that you could save yourself.

He felt so much guilt, how could he have been so negligent? He had never been very sentimental, but now he felt it all at once.

He could hardly describe his exact feeling, because he had no exact feeling. Now he understood all the human emotions you spoke of, a pity he could only understand now, on your deathbed.

The birds were singing, it was a beautiful day, the sun had the most beautiful glow. And yet Morax was there, on the grass with you in his arms, crying in despair like never before. The blood that stained the green of the vegetation, and the pain that remained impregnated in Morax's soul.

And then, like one of those tricks played by fate, everything fell silent. Morax sobbed softly, and made one last plea, "Don't leave me, I really care for you. I love you, stay here." He held your hand tightly, seeing how small it was compared to his.

It was the first time he had been that clear, he had never really opened his heart to you, a shame that the first time he said 'I love you', you were no longer there to hear it.

And as soon as he realized it, a faint cry was all that came out of Morax's mouth, followed by an audible sob. He realized that you died there, nestled in his arms, holding his hand, so angelic.

His beloved had left him, eternally.

Millennia had passed since your death, 3.800 years to be exact. Yet this hurt Morax so much that he was never able to forget you.

Even though he left the Archon life aside, now going by another name, Zhongli, and leading a more modest life as a simple Liyue citizen, the memories he had with you were vivid, shining like gold in his memory.

He martyred himself every day, he blamed himself, a guilt that he would never be able to eliminate from his chest, he would give everything, even his life for you to come back.

And today this feeling was stronger than ever, because it was the day of your death, the day you left him alone in this world. Another year had passed, and even so it seemed like yesterday when you died, at least that's how Morax felt.

And as he did every year, he bought your favorite flowers, picked them carefully to make sure that you would like them. Plus he provided the wine of his choice, it was the only thing that made his mind clear on a day like this, even if he wasn't very used to all that drinking.

When he was ready, he went to your tomb, which was made in the Guili Plains, the place where everything began, and also where everything ended. He always kept your grave clean, after all he visited you every day, no matter how hectic his routine could be, he would always come to your grave daily.

"I missed you, my dear." He says these words to the wind, anyone passing by would think he was crazy, but he didn't care.

He always spent hours talking to you, talking about everything that had changed, and how he had changed. He always thought that no matter where you were, you could always hear him.

Gently he put the flowers on the grave, and sat down on the floor, while pouring himself some wine. "I just wanted to remind you that I love you, more than anything else."

On a day like today, he wouldn't even try to hold back the tears, or the pain in his chest. He caught himself thinking how proud you would be to see the progress Liyue had made, how beautiful the city looked now.

He wanted to show you that he understood what you said in the last minutes of your life, he wanted to show you that you had become a better person. This was due to a great influence of yours, who now was not here to accompany him on this journey.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything I did, my beloved. You would think it magnificent the way everything has progressed, how humans could achieve so much." His voice choked, his face red as the tears came down without stopping.

'His beloved' , was so sweet when it came out of his lips, but so melancholy by the look in his eyes, those gentle golden eyes that expressed so much sorrow.

A love ended in such a way could hurt so much, and Morax knew it. He had experienced it so harshly, but he stood firm to keep the nation you two had fought so hard for standing, and he would keep fighting because he thought it was the way to repay you for all you had done for him.

Every time he remembered you crumbling in his arms, his heart squeezed in such a way. Your face paled along with your frail body, looking as if it would break at any moment. And with that he remembered how much he missed you in his arms, your laughter, the warmth of your body, your beautiful face.

He missed it all, and remembered these moments bitterly, but also joyfully, because he remembered when you were still with him.

He would protect the people at all costs, and keep everything safe as long as he was alive, he would watch over everything you believed in. He would gladly do this for the rest of his days.

Now all he could do was wait, wait for him to take his last breath. And then finally, finally he could meet you, and tell you everything that happened during those years.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #zhongli #zhongli imagines #genshin angst #zhongli angst #zhongli x you

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ineffably-human · 11 months

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Okay, so: the hypnosis!

Nandor's actually the one who wasn't great at it in the past, yes, whatever. I'm fine with those kind of details being all over the place, personally. Even though it's weird.

What's intriguing me more is that this is clearly a runner. We've heard it mentioned two episodes in a row that they're starting to overly rely on hypnosis as a means of dealing with their slip-ups, specifically when they accidentally reveal themselves as vampires. There's the question of it impacting the minds of the humans around them, in the long-term.

Combine that with:

Sean (their biggest link to the normal human world, whose brain is already fucked up from hypnosis) appearing more frequently.

The vampires going out into the world more in all four of the episodes critics have had access to - and more after that, if the episode titles and summaries so far are any indication.

Nandor does a verbal faux pas on a newscast, we have seen clips with all of them on the newscast as newscasters, is this for a mass hypnosis? (The second one after Nandor's at the basketball game, that was a lot of extras for a simple gag!) A mass coverup?

Colin is going to be running for public office, what's less secretive than that?

They're going to a Pride Parade, what's a better way to juxtapose secrecy than that?

Increased emphasis on the documentary crew. Does the neighborhood notice they've had a film crew around them for fiveish years now? What do they think it's for? Who's supposed to see this documentary anyway?

Guillermo still has another episode with his family coming up, the family that were hypnotized into forgetting major things that are still a part of his personal truth, things that would be a huge risk to the vampires if they came to light...

Between Guillermo's personal secrets and this increased emphasis on the vampires out in the world, not to mention the whole thing with Derek as a metaphor for infidelity, I think secrets and lies are the theme this season. The way change/transformation was a theme in season 4, and power and protection were the themes of season 3.

The 'lies' part of things can also involve self-delusion, that's how Nadja's piece can fold into it. Nandor and Guillermo's feelings about each other work there, too. (I think they know Guillermo has a little crush on Nandor, but neither of them realize just how much and maybe don't even believe it's still ongoing.)

And I think this is a great time to bring it up, because this season is about Guillermo maybe becoming a vampire at last - and I think the secrecy is part of what draws Guillermo to being a vampire. It's like a contradiction that's a feature, not a bug. He's spent a long time hiding major facets of who he is to everyone around him, and being a vampire means living openly, freely, while simultaneously being part of a secret species.

Hell, he's the one who gives us the thesis statement at the end of the season's first episode:

"Being a vampire is no different than being a human. We're all just doing what it takes to survive. We go on about our day. Blend in. Act like everyone else. But the truth is, we're all just hiding in plain sight."

I think the vampires are going to get into a situation that hypnosis can't get them out of, maybe something involving the documentary crew and the footage they've collected as well. Something that fully threatens to expose them, impact their safety, with no way of turning back.

Maybe it's something where only Guillermo, as the bridge between human and vampire he's always been, can save them. After all, what is he right now, if not stuck in-between?

#fandom: wwdits #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nandermo #otp: nandermo #i am a meta gremlin

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secretagentsociety · 1 year

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Huge yandere X extremely concerningly chill reader pt2

We all know the drill eng isn't my first language,I didn't proof read yada yada and this is again just self indugent

more about huge yandere!

•first thing first the world you're in Because no!people no no this fic is not taking place in our normal modern world that would be boring.to write,anyway this world is a fantasy world called gaia,it have worrior,villains,heroes,fairy,god goddesses,elf,goblins and even the legendary m.i.l.f. and d.i.l.f so there's that.

In my defense who doesn't know a fantasy magic based world amirite? Alr we done? We cool with this? Moving on!!

• so whats like his deal?,like what's his backstory?Well you're in luck!bcuz I have just the thing!firstly he hails from a humble beginning-

Nah he's the hero of this world,yes you heard it right the righteous hero,summoned isekaid typical op mc but he's just built naturally tall and naturally scary so ppl thought of him as a devil and basically discredit his hero Status, The mages then proceed to summon another hero a more traditional looking one yk?suave,cool,has way with words and prolly have a whole harem?yes that replaced our beloved yandere

oh but it's fine!he doesn't rlly see the point of a harem,in his eyes there can only be one person he shall devote his life into And that is you!:D his beautiful dearest darling (yes even if you're a dude you'd still be beautiful to him)(no exceptions)

• now that his backstory is over let's get to know him really His name is Tresh (real name unknown)(goes by Tresh cuz yes)

his height?that depends how tall are you?now take that and add about...hmmm....alot more than that and bam!you have his height!(How many is alot more is unspecified,go ham make him a giant for all we care :P)

His appearance typical scary mobster but still kinda cute kinda hot ya feel me?,like wouldn't be the first guy you laid your eyes on but wouldn't be the dude you forget instantly

his hair is basically just black with little white strand to it His eye colour plain brown just normal brown that looked like black nothin special but it's cute yk?I love brown eyes,they cool,they vibing

•his job? well he's basically a hero?villain?who knows not even me the author knows,but I could tell you this,since he is the original hero the world favours him GREATLY!

so don't even try to run cuz some of the most ridiculous sht will happen to you like for example tripping on a stick and bam! Right into his arm how you get there?idk.

and since he basically got the world's favor he's strong as fk remember? he's mc,typical op and yada yada all that jazzy plot armor,yes he had those even if he's 'replaced' the only thing the new hero can obtain is just the thing he never pursue After

which he felt lucky that he pursue you (he say pursue I say kidnapping,but yk what tomato potato) Before the new hero,cuz just the thought of you being eyed by that sleezy womaniser!perverted!douchebag! new hero made him angry to the point his mana spills out causing a not so good natural disaster

Oh well he's sure the new hero will fix it :D

• how jealous CAN he get Now I mentioned previously he's jealous as fk,now his jealousy doesn't show Infront of you,although if it did you prolly wouldn't even gaf,but behind you oh boy...

honestly had you not been aware of you surroundings?!

basically everyone avoided gazing at you for more than 5 seco-i mean 3-no?ok 2 seconds???- okay he gotta stop or everyone gonna have to use a blindfold just to keep the empire peaceful and away from his wrath

may or may not have had his loyal subordinates to trail after you,not to stalk you or anything (yes it's to stalk you) it's just to take records of what you're doing everyday (which is stalking) but it's not rlly stalking if it's for your safety (nope still stalking) he just loves you so much what if you got injured?!and he wasn't there?! Oh god the horror of paper cuts you could be in pain!!(cool motif still stalking)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Have to stop here bcuz it'll be too long,I shall continue later.

Pt1

#yandere male #yandere oc x reader #yandere hero #yandere x darling #Tw yandere

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world-of-aus · 1 year

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Love & Barbells - pt. 2

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky (gym crush) x Reader

Warnings: none. Bucky being the best spotter to ever have existed, and again what is with the shirt off BARNES?!

Author’s Note: This is a much lengthier part, with a lot more gym lingo thrown in, for my non gym goers if you’re confused on anything pls let me know and I will provide as much info for you all as I can. I hope you enjoy this part, and can we all just agree Bucky is the best spotter, like this man cannot be matched, truly cannot wait for leg day! Happy Reading Buns!

“Oh my god,” your roommate squealed form bouncing on the couch as you recalled the last interaction you had with Bucky, before leaving the gym for the day, “please tell me you’re going to actually take him up on that leg day session!”

Heat floods your cheeks; you feel yourself going bashful at the thought of entering that gym on your next leg day and working through a routine with the man you’ve had your eye on for months now since you started there. “Y/n you have too,” your friend encourages with a nudge, “you’ve been working up the courage to have any sort of interaction for months now and you finally have it laid out in front of you, and he’s the one that approached you!”

“I want to, but that’s three days from now, what if he forgets about it by then,” you question the insecurity of past gym interactions beginning to creep in. Your roommate can read you like the back of her hand, “listen,” she murmurs as she scoots in closer hand falling to your knee, “not all gym guys are egotistical lug heads like Brock.” You involuntarily shiver at the mention of the man’s name, “hey look at me,” she encourages giving you kind eyes when you meet her gaze, “this is a new gym, new management, and definitely new people, this isn’t Primal Strength.”

“I know, I know,” you nod, “but I can’t help but feel like what if it becomes it, what if I stumble across another Brock here at this new location and have to find another gym because of it, I already have trouble getting out of my head most days when I go.” Your roommate is shaking her head, “you’ve been at this new location for months now y/n, If there was another Brock it would have happened already, but you and I both know there’s not, and I think it’s time you break down those walls a little and let the guy you’ve been admiring from afar in.”

She’s managed to bring out a smile on your face, her body leaning into yours as she gets her arms around you, her chin hooking on your shoulder, “still can’t believe he called you sweetheart, how’d he say it again?” Laughter breaks your lips as you fall back, the two of you settling into the cushions as you retell her the events that transpired during your leg day.

“So, you and new girl,” Steve hums over the rim of his protein bottle, “was surprised it took you so long to approach her.”

Bucky looks up from where’s he’s stood at the stove whisking away at his egg whites the hot oiled pan waiting for his batter to be poured. “Can it and drink your breakfast Rogers.”

Steve downs the last of his protein blend, a satisfied ‘ah’ leaving his lips as he uncaps the bottle to place it In the sink, he turns to his friend leaning up against counter. “There, breakfast drank, now you and y/n, surprised it took you so long to approach her, s’not like you.” Bucky wants to chuck something at his best pal but the closest thing is his bowl of mixed spinach and tomato, and he really doesn’t want to have just plain egg whites this morning. He opts to give Steve his back as he pours in his mix into the awaiting frying pan, “why, would you have approached her sooner,” he questions his friend wanting to see what he would say.

“With how often she catches your attention yeah,” he answers, “I would have approached her sooner.”

Bucky’s cheeks grow warm, he didn’t think anyone had noticed, “she works out alone everyday Steve, no one’s around to spot her and I’m sure just like everyone else in the gym she’s bound to challenge herself to go up in weight.”

“So then approach her like a normal person in the gym next time, when you she’s struggling ask her if she needs a spot, don’t go changing up your whole routine because you’ve been out of the game for too long and forget how to function around a girl.”

Bucky stops mid stir, “is that what this is about,” he laughs as he turns to face his friend, “you’re mad because I threw legs into the mix, it was one set Steve we went right back to upper body right after!

“We went from bicep curls to squats then back to barbell curls, we agreed to upper body,” he laughs.

Bucky shakes as he turns back to his breakfast leaning forward to shut off the stove, “I know, I know, I should have left it at I saw her struggling but -”

“Your brain short circuited at the fact that she actually spoke back,” Steve offers, this time Bucky flings a forgotten spinach at his friend as he goes to plate his breakfast. “Oh come on now Buck,” the blonde laughs “m’just pulling your leg pal, but hey you actually going to take her through that leg day you mentioned?”

“Well that’s the plan,” Bucky answers, “but only if she wants too, why are you thinking about moving our leg day to the same day, we can work through it in partners.

“Actually,” Steve smirks, “Wilson and I talked about moving it, you know so you can focus on your partner that day, though something tells me that won’t be an issue for you.”

Steve’s laughter fills the kitchen as the dish towel meets his shoulder, “Oh c’mon Buck you know you’re gonna have a great time.”

“without you there, oh yeah definitely,” Bucky shoots back wide grin on his lips.

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

“Hey we still on to push tomorrow,” Bucky questions, “yeah, but hey, try to have your head in the game yeah?”

“watch it pal or I’ll change it to HITT.”

Your roommate was in your ear, “Listen don’t overthink it,” you hear her say over the busy streets of New York, “it’s just another day at the gym.” You hold back your snort scanning your badge as you nod at the person behind the front desk making a beeline for the treadmills as you pass the front desk. “You know you’re the one that called me right?”

Your roommate let’s out a noise, “excuse me for trying to be supportive, I’m trying to be encouraging!” You're laughing as you place your bag down in a cubby, hands reaching for your shaker bottle as you move to one of the lone treadmills. “And you know I appreciate it,” you answer as you press down on the start button, the belt to the machine beginning to move, “but I told you yesterday, it’s nothing new, I don’t want to make a big fuss out of one interaction, I’m still going to come in and do what I always do.”

“Admire the literal man of your dreams,” she questions the smirk sounding through the line.

“Next arm day I’m adding more weights,” you threaten fingers reaching for the arrow to increase the speed.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she sing-songs, “you might have a new partner who can actually keep up with you soon enough that you’re going to forget all about me.”

A smile pulls at your lips as you adjust your ear buds, “while that would be amazing, I highly doubt that, besides how would I get through my workouts without the best commentary?”

“You just love to hear me bitch you out when you make me do another rep,” she laughs, you’re laughing with her, “but you love it too.” “You’re right,” she agrees, “listen I just got to work, update me when you’re out of the gym?”

“You know I will, we still having pasta for dinner?”

“Of course, see you later?”

“See you later,” you reply before the line cuts off your music kicking in.

Falling into your headspace is smooth, your music syncing with the strides you take on the machine, the pre-workout you took this morning slowly starting to kick in as you warm up. You bring yourself up to a jog ten minutes into your fifteen-minute workout, your racing heart pushing you further as the last five minutes tick away.

By the time the cool off period kicks in you’ve worked up a sweat, your body warm and ready for your workout as the machine comes to a stop, your wobbly feet carrying you off the treadmill as you make your way towards an open bench by the mirrors. You plop down onto the bench adjusting your earphones as you catch your breath. In your mind you’re going over the exercises you have planned for today, and the number of reps you’d like to hit.

Sucking in a breath and leaving your water bottle behind as a placeholder you move over to the mirrors grabbing two dumbbells that feel just heavy enough to give your muscle a nice strain. The first two workouts to wake your muscles up are fairly easy, and you find you're able to push past your usual.

You’re feeling good as you place the dumbbells down by the bench, getting yourself up as you go to rack up the barbell for the bench-press. Though you felt ready to up your weight by five more pounds you knew not to push it right away, so you began with five less than your usual and would work up. The first few reps you manage to push out are butter smooth, barely any strain leaving you with enough confidence as you racked up to your usual weight. The next reps come just as smoothly, barely any strain to push through each rep, there’s a renewed confidence as you once again find yourself adding weight to the barbell.

You look over the added five pounds, five pounds never seemed like much but when actually added it was indeed much. Taking your seat on the bench you stretch out your arms relieving as much of the tension build up as you can before you’re laying back adjusting yourself to the bar. Adjusting your hands at the right placement, bracing yourself you suck in a breath as you push the bar up, the weight going up easily before you’re bringing it down to you.

The movements aren’t as easy as your first two sets, there’s a strain after the fifth rep, your arms shaking as you push the weight upwards. You’re then two away from the tenth rep when the struggle really hits, the weight not lifting off your chest as easy as the first six. You just barely manage to get the bar overhead, a disgruntled curse leaving your lips as you debate on racking the barbell, holding off on that last rep. You debate against it, the weight falling quicker as you push for that last rep, a mistake on your end as you find the weight barely budging at all.

Panic begins to settle as you talk yourself up, “c’mon, c’mon get it up!” The weight doesn’t budge, “fuck,” you groan as you attempt again, your back arching off the bench as you struggle.

You hear him before you see him, “Jesus sweetheart, you trying to kill yourself over here,” he chuckles, hands coming beneath the bar, aiding but not completely pulling the weight off you. “There you go, c’mon, up, up, that’s it!” He helps you re-rack the bar, your arms falling limp at your sides as you finally get a look at him. He’s smiling down at you, his hair slick with sweat, his shirt hanging from his hips, “you know if you’re going to keep working out like this you’ve got to get yourself a partner, even the strongest people in here need a spot.”

You’re pushing yourself to a sitting position, turning your body towards his, smile on your lips, “I actually do have a partner, but just recently our schedules changed, they don’t really line up till the weekend and well even then she’s not a huge fan of how I train.”

And maybe Bucky’s pushing his luck seeing as the two of you just started talking yesterday, though he’s watched you during your sets for longer and your determination has him believing you could keep up with him and the guys. “What are you working on today?”

“Was doing upper,” you reply, “but I promised my roommate I’d up her weights by five next session, so full body,” you answer recalling your phone call from earlier.

“You do push on your full body days?”

“That’s all I do,” you smile, “well hey, know I said I’d join you on your next leg day, but would you mind moving it up a few days and joining me for push?”

Your smile morphs into a smirk, “already trying to get out of leg day?”

That draws a laugh from the brunette, cheeks warming under your teasing gaze, “just wanna make sure you can keep up.” You gasp in mock shock, “aren’t you the one coming to my aid because I’m always pushing my limits?”

“Got me there,” Bucky laughs, “so whaddya say?”

You look over at his friends, Steve and Sam, “they won’t mind,” you question, “I really wouldn’t want to intrude on your groups set.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder eyes meeting Steve and Sam’s awaiting gazes, a gleam in their eyes, he looks back down at you, “I have a feeling they won’t mind at all,” he extends a handout, an invitation.

You accept his hand with one hand grabbing your bag with the other as you let him pull you up, heat consumes your body as you follow him, fingers wrapped like a vice around the strap of your gym bag. The closer you got to where they were set up the more you wanted to tuck tail and run, you didn’t know them aside from the times you saw them working out together since you started here, and your one interaction with Bucky yesterday definitely wasn’t enough to call you an acquaintance at best.

Sam’s friendly voice is stopping you from running away though, his form getting into your space when you’re close enough, hand outstretched as he introduces himself, Steve following with an even warmer smile. “Barnes thinks you can keep up,” he grins, “and with the way you rep out your sets, I’m beginning to think you just might be able too.”

“I’m sure I can keep up,” comes your reply, Sam’s grin growing, “well come on then,” he claps his hands, “let's put you to work, see if you’re not all talk.”

#bucky x reader #chubby!bucky #gym crush!bucky #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes au #Bucky Barnes fluff

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merymoonbeam · 1 year

Text

I had to give me up - Elain Prison Theory

Firstly thanks to @lesolehabitantdelalune and @offtorivendell because without them I wouldn't have catch this.

Okay...so we all know Amren came from another universe and had a different form. Old fae feared her because they thought she was like their old masters.

Rhys shook his head. “Only vaguely now. From what I’ve gleaned, she arrived during those years before Fionn and Gwydion rose, and went into the Prison during the Age of Legends—the time when this land was full of heroic figures who were keen to hunt down the last members of their former masters’ race. They feared Amren, believing her one of their enemies, and threw her into the Prison. When she emerged again, she’d missed Fionn’s fall and the loss of Gwydion, and found the High Lords ruling.” (acosf)

And from Acowar we know that Amren got out of Prison because she gave up her "real" form to be fae. In here she says that to walk out of Prison she had give herself up.

Her brows narrowed. “I had to give something up. I had to give me up. To walk out, I had to become something else entirely, something the Prison would not recognize. So I—I bound myself into this body.” (acowar)

and this part she is talking about being different from her kind. she wanted.

“I lied—to cover what I’d done. So none could know. To escape the Prison, I made myself mortal. Immortal as you are, but … mortal compared to—to what I was. And what I was … I did not feel, the way you do. The way I do now. Some things—loyalty and wrath and curiosity—but not the full spectrum.” Again, that faraway look. “I was perfect, according to some. I did not regret, did not mourn—and pain … I did not experience it. And yet… yet I wound up here, because I was not quite like the others. Even as—as what I was, I was different. Too curious. Too questioning. The day the rip appeared in the sky … it was curiosity that drove me. My brothers and sisters fled. Upon the orders of our ruler, we had just laid waste to twin cities, smote them wholly into rubble on the plain, and yet they fled from that rip in the world. But I wanted to look. I wanted. I was not built or bred to feel such selfish things as want. I’d seen what happened to those of my kind who strayed, who learned to place their needs first. Who developed… feeling. But I went through the tear in the sky. And here I am.” (acowar)

It is not a full connection but Amren talks about "wanting" as something foreign to her kind. They were not supposed to feel those. And you have Elain...as mama archeron had said

"Elain is pleasant to look at but she has no ambition. She does not dream beyond her garden and pretty clothes. She will be an asset on the marriage market for us one day, if that beauty holds, but it will be our own maneuverings, Nesta, not hers, that win us an advantageous match" always a pawn in other people's hand. (acosf)

Or What Rhys had said

Rhys asked, “Have you ever seen Elain act like that before?” “No.” I chewed on my bottom lip. Rhys’s gaze tracked the movement. I mean, she’s been brave when she had to be, but she’s never been confrontational.” “Maybe she was never given the chance to be that way.” I whipped my head toward him. “You think I stifle her?” Rhys held up his hands. “Not you alone.” He surveyed the study as he thought. “But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she ’ d disappoint you all.” He sighed toward the ceiling. “ With time and safety, perhaps we ’ll see a different side of her emerge.” “That sounds dangerously close to what Nesta said about Elain finally becoming interesting.” “Sometimes, Nesta isn’t wrong. ” I glowered at Rhys. “You think Elain's boring?” “I think she’s kind, and I’ll take kindness over nastiness any day. But I also think we haven’t yet seen all she has to offer.” A corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” (acosf feysand bonus chapter)

and the way Elain's arc is choice...

okay back to amren scene.

“And you gave all that up to get out of the Prison?” Mor asked softly. “I yielded my grace—my perfect immortality. I knew that once I did … I would feel pain. And regret. I would want, and I would burn with it. I would … fall. But I was—the time locked away down there … I didn’t care. I had not felt the wind on my face, had not smelled the rain … I did not even remember what they felt like. I did not remember sunlight.” It was to Azriel that her attention drifted—the shadowsinger’s darkness pulling away to reveal eyes full of understanding. Locked away. (acowar)

The fact that Amren connects to Azriel with it. The way both were locked away...(Janet is sick for this.)

Now...how Amren and prison ties to Elain. We all know Elain has so many prison quotes and every sister conquer a mountain.

Feyre with UTM

Nesta with Ramiel

Elain and Prison...

so while Amren was talking her "new body" in acofas and how difficult it was to go to toilet(lol) Elain cuts in with her question.

Mor opened her mouth, laughter dancing on her face, but Elain asked, “Could you have done it? Decided to take a male form?” The question cut through the laughter, an arrow fired between us. Amren studied my sister, Elain’s cheeks red from our unfiltered talk at the table. “Yes,” she said simply. “Before, in my other form, I was neither. I simply was.” “Then why did you pick this body?” Elain asked, the faelight of the chandelier catching in the ripples of her golden-brown braid. “I was more drawn to the female form,” Amren answered simply. “I thought it was more symmetrical. It pleased me.” Mor frowned down at her own form, ogling her considerable assets. “True.” Cassian snickered. Elain asked, “And once you were in this body, you couldn’t change?” Amren’s eyes narrowed slightly. I straightened, glancing between them. Unusual, yes, for Elain to be so vocal, but she’d been improving. Most days, she was lucid—perhaps quiet and prone to melancholy, but aware. Elain, to my surprise, held Amren’s gaze. Amren said after a moment, “Are you asking out of curiosity for my past, or your own future?” The question left me too stunned to even reprimand Amren. The others, too. Elain’s brow furrowed before I could leap in. “What do you mean?” “There’s no going back to being human, girl,” Amren said, perhaps a tad gently. “Amren,” I warned. Elain’s face reddened further, her back straightening. But she didn’t bolt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’d never heard Elain’s voice so cold. (acofas)

Elain asks too many detailed questions. And we see that Amren takes this her wanting to go back to being human...but Elain is confused. As if it couldn't be more further from her mind. She is asking specific questions. And this takes us back to the theory...why was she asking?

From Amren's explanations about how she escaped the prison she says "I had to give me up. To walk out, I had to become something else entirely, something the Prison would not recognize." so what if...Elain will get trapped in prison and she has to give something up too? this is why she was asking? what if she saw something in a vision and was trying to see if she would had to give something up and was trying to see if she would come back from it?

Another thing is...Elain is always described as a trembling fawn. She is even in the prophecy from acomaf.

Life and death and rebirth Sun and moon and dark Rot and bloom and bones Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn. Love me, touch me, sing me. (acomaf)

there is so many theories about this prophecy but I take it as BoB was talking about Elain in that pink highlighted part...so what if fanged beast is what elain would become? Amren said in acowar "I had to give me up. To walk out, I had to become something else entirely, something the Prison would not recognize.". So what if Elain has to become Fanged beast to escape prison? And Elain asked Amren in acofas "Elain asked, “And once you were in this body, you couldn’t change?” what if this what she was asking... that she would turn into fanged beast.?

another thing is that... there is a parallel scene with Elain asking question to Amren with Nesta. It is just so similar. look at the same highlighted parts.

This is the Elain scene:

and this is the nesta scene:

Nesta only said, “Why do your eyes glow?” Little curiosity—just a blunt need for explanation. And no fear. None. Amren angled her head. “You know, none of these busybodies have ever asked me that.” Those busybodies were trying not to look too concerned. As was I. Nesta only waited. Amren sighed, her dark bob swaying. “They glow because it was the one part of me the containment spell could not quite get right. The one glimpse into what lurks beneath.” “And what is beneath?” None of the others spoke. Or even moved. Lucien, still by the window, had turned the color of fresh paper. Amren traced a finger along the rim of her goblet, her red-tinted nail gleaming as bright as the blood inside. “They never dared ask me that, either.” “Why.” “Because it is not polite to ask—and they are afraid.” Amren held Nesta’s stare, and my sister did not balk. Did not flinch. “We are the same, you and I,” Amren said. I wasn’t sure I was breathing. Through the bond, I wasn’t sure Rhys was, either. “Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones …” Amren’s remarkable eyes narrowed. “But … I see the kernel, girl.” Amren nodded, more to herself than anyone. “You did not fit—the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not, fit. And then the path changed.” A little nod. “I know—what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.” Nesta had mastered the Fae’s preternatural stillness far more quickly than I had. And she sat there for a few heartbeats, simply staring at the strange, delicate female across from her, weighing the words, the power that radiated from Amren … And then Nesta merely said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Amren’s red lips parted in a wide, serpentine smile. “When you erupt, girl, make sure it is felt across worlds.” (acowar)

both asking amren a question

Amren talks about them and compares to what she thinks is true

at the end "I don't know what you're talking about"

Like Amren predicted Nesta erupted at the end of acosf and it was felt across worlds but the difference is Amren thinks that Elain wants to be human again. She is wrong...Rhys' words come in this time too. " “Maybe she was never given the chance to be that way.” I whipped my head toward him. “You think I stifle her?” Rhys held up his hands. “Not you alone.” He surveyed the study as he thought. “But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she ’ d disappoint you all.” "

Everyone keeps assuming about Elain but...nobody knows the real her.

So...Elain is getting trapped in prison. HOW FUN!!!!!!

thanks for reading.

#elain archeron #I'm scared for my flower girl #this post was on my mind since november so here you go.#prison theory #amren #is it considered crack theory if it is connected to quotes? who knows....#anywaysss.#elriel

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tenjikubaby · 1 year

Text

you have one (1) new message!

s62 (+ kakucho) texting/messaging HCs

Rindou: The “whats up” guy

Fair emoji use, texting abbreviations, and slang. Can’t care less about proper capitalization or spelling words correctly unless he really wants you to leave him alone. He can be a bit dry as a texter because he prefers to tell you stuff in calls or in person. Usually takes hours or even days to reply unless you’re special to him (you only need to wait minutes if so). Being an extrovert, I think many people messaging him so sometimes your messages might get buried under everyone else’s, and he’s usually too lazy to check everything.

Ran: The “Good morning. How are you?” guy

He wants to sound formal and intelligent over text, so he’s got complete sentences, good grammar, proper punctuation and capitalization even if you’re close. Rare emoji use, and if he uses one it’s only the basic smiley/sad faces because he’s too lazy to check out the other emojis outside that. Would likezone you on Messenger or send you those sparkly gifs and it doesn’t mean anything! He’s just kind of a boomer. Leaves you on read often but that also doesn’t mean anything because he might have a) fallen asleep, b) started zoning out, c) just forgot to reply.

Shion: The "WHAT" guy

WACKY. Lots of emojis (his favorites are the fire, 100, and devil emojis), abuses Caps Lock, may spam you when excited. Sometimes, you might wake up to 35+ new messages from him, a lot of them different variations of “[NAME] WAKE UP BRO CHECK THIS OUT 🔥🔥🔥” (and it’s just a screenshot of a scammy “Congratulations you won a new iPhone!!” message from a free movie website. He already put his details in.) Reply speed is FAST unless he's in a fight or meeting. Laughs at the memes you send like 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA' because he doesn’t believe in lol or lmao or rofl. He’s quite fun to talk to because his reactions are so enthusiastic and extra.

Izana: The “yes? 🤯” guy

Heavy emoji user. Uses emojis that sometimes mismatch the tone of his message so he can be confusing to talk to. It’s just one of his quirks though. You’ll know immediately if he likes or dislikes you because if he doesn’t like you, he just sends something like “shut the fuck up 😄”. Doesn’t abbreviate too much, but adheres to proper punctuation and types complete sentences. The type of person to respond to you with pictures instead of typing. (Like, if you ask “Where are you?” he sends you a close-up of his face and just above it you can see the sign of the restaurant he’s about to enter). Likes to send memes and reaction pics as well. Reply speed is quite slow but doesn't exceed a day.

Kakucho: The "hello :)" guy

Refuses to use emojis, prefers to just type out his smileys/sad faces. No caps. Abbreviates a lot of words but still uses proper punctuation because he doesn’t want to sound monotone. His texting is quite informal but still very much polite unless you’re close friends (he’ll be less polite then). He apologizes if he took too long to reply to you, which happens every time because Kaku isn’t on his phone much. If it’s really urgent, you’re better off calling him. If you send him a meme, he might not get it because he’s also not much of an internet person (unless you sent something that’s universally funny, to which he’ll reply “haha :D”).

Mocchi: The "sup" guy

It’s really much better and easier to talk to him in person or just call. This guy’s phone is almost always dead. He plays lots of mobile games and spends so much time on YouTube, then forgets to charge his phone. When he does reply, he sounds so lazy: 1-3 words and little-to-no-effort in continuing the conversation at all. You see abbreviated words and no emojis, punctuations and caps. This is not because he doesn’t like you, but it’s because he prefers to talk to people face-to-face.

Mucho: The plain "Hi" guy

Sounds way too serious in text. He’s not one for perfect grammar and punctuations in text, but you still feel his seriousness. Another slow replyer—barely on his phone because he actually touches grass. He prefers to talk through call, but when you do call, make sure it’s really important or you’d hear a deep sigh on the other end before he says goodbye and hangs up. Would likezone you just like Ran because these two are boomers deep down. Leaves people on read if he thinks the message is not worth replying to.

#tenjikubaby #rindou haitani #ran haitani #shion madarame #izana kurokawa #kakucho #kanji mochizuki #yasuhiro muto #tokyo revengers headcanons

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harry-on-broadway · 2 years

Text

The Last Line: Part One

Part One

Word Count: 9.4K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

A/N: I didn’t think I’d be writing another series so soon after TYTM but...this little idea of an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers story that I’ve been thinking about for a long time just wouldn’t go away. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I’m enjoying writing it. Would love to hear what everyone thinks!

***

May 12, 2017

Review: Harry Styles Heads In A New Direction

By Penny Sanders

If you know someone, most likely a young woman, between the ages of 13 and 30, chances are you’ve heard of Harry Styles.

Or at least his former band, One Direction.

Styles is one of the five young men that were thrown together by the infamous Simon Cowell to create the best selling boy band of all-time. Over their brief career, One Direction’s discography cast a wide net, attracting fans of all ages. Young tweens and their millennial counterparts were drawn in by the clean-cut look of the lads clad in blazers and bowties and lyrics that felt like they were pulled from a self-insert fanfiction. However, as the years progressed the band added a bit of an edge – tattoos, rumors of an attempted threesome, and lyrics about a loaded gun (read: erect penis). But with 1D in the midst of an indefinite hiatus, all eyes are on Harry, Niall, Liam, and Louis (and Zayn too) to see what comes next.

Styles has answered that question with a 10-song debut that is worlds away from the five albums he put out with his former band. Gone are the bubblegum beats, replaced by alternatively somber and bombastic instrumentals. And forget cheeky “wink-wink nod-nod” lyrics to – gasp! sex! Styles readily admits getting himself off in a hotel room in the album’s closer, “From the Dining Table.”

It’s not a poor offering, but frankly, it’s not great either. While he pushes himself to redefine the sound that has been associated with him for more than five years, the result is a generic LP that will likely be forgotten as soon as one of the industry’s legitimate superstars releases a new single. And, to head off the question I’ve already received from many of Styles’ supporters on Twitter, I can guarantee that you won’t be seeing this album or any of its tracks, mentioned at this year’s Grammy Awards.

One of the bright spots on the album, the lead single “Sign Of The Times,” feels like a grand moment, but it also feels misplaced, almost as if it was a song that should have come a decade into his solo career. Despite poignant lyrics (the song is purportedly about a mother dying in childbirth), Styles’ falsetto needs strengthening and at times he sounds like a young boy trying to imitate his elders. He has talent and shows promise, but isn’t able to pull off a ballad of that caliber yet. Other songs, like “Sweet Creature” and “Two Ghosts” are instantly forgettable, though “Kiwi,” while memorable, is just plain painful to listen to.

Styles is obviously popular, and that alone will be enough to propel him to years of sold-out shows and chart-topping albums. But he needs something else – a secret ingredient if you will – to launch him to further stardom and cement his name alongside his idols Nicks, Bowie, and Jagger. Otherwise, he’ll be nothing but a midnight memory.

***

September 21, 2017

Review: Harry Styles Rocks The Greek Theatre

By Penny Sanders

Months after the release of his self-titled debut album, Harry Styles found himself at the Greek Theatre, ready to play to a sold out crowd that had likely been waiting for this moment since One Direction’s final performance.

And let me just say, attending a Harry Styles concert is an experience like no other.

The intimate venue was a nice change of pace for Styles who was selling out stadiums in the latter half of One Direction’s tour. He was always seen as the charming one, and the small stage makes that even more apparent, giving him more than enough time to banter with the audience, introduce songs, and connect with his audience. I’m sure many of those in the front of the crowd will tell stories for years to come of the night they made eye contact with the heartthrob.

With just 10 songs of his own, he relied on some One Direction hits and other covers to fill out the setlist. With the exception of “The Chain,” most of the covers sounded nothing like the original version, leading anyone unfamiliar with Styles’ career so far to assume the guitar heavy, rocking versions of the songs – notably “What Makes You Beautiful” and “Story of My Life” – are the standard.

Styles has a charisma like no other, and even though it’s clear it takes him a while to warm up to the crowd, perhaps a symptom of never being alone onstage in his career so far, he’s a born performer who belongs on the stage. But for me, he wasn’t the standout. It was his fans.

The crowd was ready for fun, dressed to the nines, with nearly everyone carrying overflowing bags of merch. They sang along to the songs word perfect and clung to Styles every word, cheering louder than I’ve ever heard when he entered the stage. It was a joyous occasion and had an energy I haven’t seen in any of the concerts I’ve recently attended.

I spoke to a number of women in attendance last night, asking them what drew them to the show. Some cited their One Direction fandom, while others spoke of the sounds of his music, and how it reminded them of other classic songs they love. But for many, Styles himself was the primary reason for being there.

“He makes things really personal,” said Ally, a college student who came from Minneapolis to see the show – her third time seeing Styles this year. “A lot of the other concerts I go to, the artists don’t say anything other than a generic thank you. But Harry makes every show feel special.”

“He feels like a friend,” said Katrina, a local high-schooler. “School’s not always easy and I sometimes struggle with things, but when I listen to his music or go to one of his shows, it feels comforting. Like I’m in a safe place.”

These statements perfectly summarize why Styles’ concerts are so unique.

If he stays true to what his fans want and lets his personality shine on stage, that, in addition to strengthening his songwriting, could be enough to land him alongside his musical icons, and 50 years from now, we’ll see him headlining stadiums on his own, playing a career’s worth of hits as the crowd – full more than just women – sings along.

Longtime readers will remember that I was less than effusive in my review of Styles’s debut, but after seeing him live, I must eat my words and say he’s going places.

***

Transcript from the “Track After Track” podcast, Episode 147: July 21, 2018

Ethan: Speaking of concerts, Penny, you just saw Harry Styles at the Forum, right?

Penny: Yeah, I was there a week ago. Eight days? No a week ago. Sorry it all blends together.

Ethan: I mean, you are at a concert every night, pretty much, so I’ll give you a pass.

Penny: [laughs] You’re so kind. But yes, I was at his show.

Tyler: How was that? I never know what to make of these boy band guys. For every Timberlake, there’s 10 Chris Kirkpatricks.

Penny: It wasn’t terrible. He puts on a good show.

Ethan: Was this your first time seeing him?

Penny: No. I saw him twice when he was in One Direction. And when he was at the Greek.

Tyler: And?

Penny: Like I said, he’s not terrible. It’s clear that his music and personality has resonated with a lot of people, so his shows are filled with fans and have a great energy. Listening to the album on its own is kind of meh…there weren’t a lot of tracks that stuck out as memorable…but live it can be kind of fun. You can tell he loves performing and really feeds off the crowd.

Ethan: Confession: I actually haven’t listened to the album yet.

Penny: That doesn’t surprise me based on the number of EDM CDs in your car.

Ethan: [laughs] Yeah, the genre definitely isn’t my cup of tea, but I think Harry is someone the industry really needs to watch. He’s going to do big things. Well, even bigger since he’s already pretty massive. Tyler, have you listened?

Tyler: Yeah, but I just can’t bring myself to get into it. Like, you just mention his name and you can hear the teen girls screaming off in the distance. I just think it’s a red flag when your fanbase is that narrow. Like if teen girls are your driver, how are you going to succeed? What happens when they’re not 13 and hormonal anymore. You’re not seeing a lot of geriatric boy band fans.

Penny: Wow! Ageism and sexism all in one statement! That has to be a first for you! It’s fine to say you don’t like his music, but to discount it purely on the basis that younger women like it…that’s just plain ignorant.

Tyler: Let’s evaluate this in five years and see where he is.

Penny: Fine, in five years have me back on this podcast and we’ll discuss his Grammy win.

Tyler: You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think Harry Styles will win a Grammy. You need to start thinking with your head and not your – (inaudible)

Penny: Seriously?

Ethan: OK, let’s talk charts…

***

Talking Biz News

November 8, 2018

Penny Sanders to join media start-up The Moment as Music Reporter

***

Present Day, 2019

“She needs to go back to copyediting and stop fucking up my stories,” Chloe barked, stabbing lettuce onto her fork to match her anger. “She knows nothing about film but is constantly trying to make corrections and I’m just like ‘No?!? That’s not how the fucking industry works.’” She looked across the table at Penny. “Am I crazy?”

“No, you’re not crazy,” Penny said, trying to soothe her friend. “I have the same issue with Darren. He came in thinking he was hot shit because he had been at Rolling Stone and started trying to explain how the charts work as if I haven’t been covering this for years. I can’t tell you how much time I spend undoing his edits before the piece goes to Skylar.”

“Why can’t this newsroom hire a competent editor?” Chloe asked. “It’s not that hard.”

“Probably because no editor wants to work here?”

“Good point!”

Penny and Chloe were eating a late lunch in the courtyard of the complex that housed The Moment, the entertainment publication they both worked for. They’d met three years ago during a summer internship at Variety and forged an alliance after realizing they were the only two women in the program. Penny had wanted to cover music and Chloe was determined to become a film reporter, and they’d been thrilled to finally end up at The Moment together after several years of freelancing and fighting for staff writer roles. Now, they were unstoppable, filing stories daily and dodging pointless notes from their first editors.

“Wait, Penny…didn’t you file your piece on ‘Old Town Road’ today?”

“Yes, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why? It’s such an interesting story,” Chloe whined. “And I haven’t seen anyone covering it yet.”

“That always makes me nervous.” Penny swirled her spoon through her bowl of soup.

“It shouldn’t. It means you’re ahead of the curve.”

“Or I’ve completely misjudged the story. Maybe it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Give it a month and everyone will be talking about it.” Chloe paused. “Is Darren taking firsts?”

“Yes.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, it’s not looking good for me, Chlo.”

The Moment’s typical reporting and editing process involved a reporter filing a story to one editor, who would do an intensive first edit, fixing the structure of the story, making notes on sections that needed to be added or get cut, and getting the piece 99% ready for publication. The second round of edits was largely focused on fixing grammar and spelling, as well as fact-checking, ahead of publication. Penny typically preferred Skylar, the publication’s editor-in-chief, to take on first edits. While she could be tough, she was smart and kind, and Penny’s stories were always much better after Skylar got her hands on them. When other editors, like Darren, took first edits, Penny knew to prepare herself for days of tears, stress, and questioning her life choices.

“What about you?” Penny asked, wanting to shift the conversation away from her anxiety over her story. “Have things calmed down post-Oscars?”

“Yes. Thankfully.”

Penny knew Chloe loved her job but from late August to early March, she was running from festival to festival, covering awards season. In addition to writing her articles, she, like Penny, found herself taking on media hits as an added responsibility, appearing on morning shows, podcasts, and radio programs to break down entertainment topics for everyday consumers. It was fun and super fulfilling, but it was also exhausting.

“When is Cannes again?”

“May!” Chloe said brightly. “Easily my favorite festival.”

“I have no idea why,” Penny said with a sly grin. “Two weeks on a French beach surrounded by celebrities, eating the most delicious food. It sounds horrid.”

“Oh my God, Penny? What are you doing here?”

Penny and Chloe turned in synchronicity to look at the man who had shouted at them from a table across the path.

“Do we know him?” Chloe asked, mumbling the question through the tentative grin she had plastered on her face.

“I can’t actually see his face,” Penny admitted, squinting trying to gain a better view.

“This is why you need to wear your glasses,” Chloe hissed.

“Of all the food courts in Los Angeles,” the man continued as he walked over to them.

“Wait…Tom? Is that you?”

“It is! How have you been?” He opened his arms and pulled Penny into him. She wrapped her own arms around him.

“So good. I didn’t realize you were out here.”

“I’ve actually been here for a few years now.”

“Shit. Really. I feel so bad that I didn’t reach out,” Penny said apologetically. “And I’m also surprised that my mom didn’t mention you.”

“Eh, it’s not a problem,” he shrugged.

“Care to introduce me?” Chloe asked.

“Ah, yes,” Penny said, composing herself. “Chloe, this is Tom Skoglund. He’s a longtime family friend, although I’m sure that title is being called into question since I didn’t even know he was living here. Tom, this is Chloe. She’s a friend of mine who also works at The Moment.” Penny stepped back to allow Chloe and Tom to shake hands and exchange pleasantries. “Do you want to sit with us?” she asked when they were finished, noting Tom’s sandwich and chips.

“If you don’t mind,” he said. “I’d love to catch up.”

Penny and Chloe sat back down as Tom pulled up a third chair and set his food down. “So you’re still doing the reporter thing?” he asked with a grin. He turned to Chloe. “Penny used to write a newsletter for everyone in the neighborhood. It had news items and opinion pieces all written by her. I seem to remember a glowing review for the second High School Musical soundtrack.”

“It’s full of bangers and you know it,” Penny said with a grin.

Tom turned to Chloe. “Do you also cover music?”

Chloe shook her head. “I’m a film girl.”

“Thoughts on the Oscars?” he asked as he took a bite.

“Anyone who actually pays attention to previous stats knew that Green Book would pull out a win so I wasn’t surprised. I will be curious to see what Netflix does next though. I personally thought The Favourite should have won, but that’s why I’m not a voter.”

“I literally only saw Black Panther and A Star Is Born so I feel like I don’t have room to say anything,” Tom said with a grimace.

“You sound like Penny,” Chloe said with a laugh. “She can tell you the exact week a song hit number one on the Billboard charts, but is frighteningly unaware of the latest movies.”

“I only have so much room for useless facts,” Penny said, earning a kick under the table from Chloe. She turned her attention back to Tom. “What are you doing here? Last I heard my mom said you were working in finance? Is that still the case?”

“God no,” he said lightly. “I had enough of that soul crushing job and decided to head out here to hack it in music. Got an assistant gig and worked my way up to manager.”

“Tom, that’s incredible,” Penny said with genuine excitement. “Who are you with?”

“Full Stop. With Jeff Azoff”

“Wow,” Penny said as Chloe let out a slow whistle. She turned to look at her friend.

“Yes, I know who the Azoffs are,” Chloe said. “And that’s impressive. Congrats, Tom.” Her phone chirped and she looked down at the screen. “Fuck. One of my sources wants to chat. I’ve got to take this.” She looked up at Penny and Tom. “It was so nice to meet you, Tom. Penny, I’ll see you at drinks later?”

Penny nodded and waved as Chloe disappeared across the grass, depositing her empty salad container in the trash. “So Full Stop,” she said, turning back to Tom. “You all have quite the roster.”

“Before you ask, no comment,” Tom said with a grin.

“Tom, I’m disappointed that you’d think I would stoop that low. I have a firm stance on not using friends for work stuff.”

“Well good, because you’d get nothing out of me.” He took a sip of his drink. “Remind me, are you still doing breaking news?” He grimaced. “I know I see your byline frequently, but I don’t always remember which article it comes in front of.”

“No. I moved on from that.” Penny didn’t miss the days of covering the desk at night, ready to pounce on any stories that came across the wire. “I mostly do reviews for concerts and albums now. I’m working my way up to business features, profiles, those types of things.”

“What should I go back and get caught up on?”

“I reviewed Maggie Rogers’ album a couple of weeks ago and wrote a review of Elton John’s show last week.”

“God, doesn’t he put on a great show.”

“One of the best. And I’m working on a feature about TikTok and ‘Old Town Road’ right now.”

“That sounds so interesting. Is it up yet?”

“No. I just filed it to my editor so there is a very good chance that it will never see the light of day. But if it does, I will send it your way.”

“Please. Let me give you my number.”

Penny pulled out her phone and handed it to her old friend. It was a strange feeling knowing that in the heyday of their friendship, they hadn’t needed each other's number, knowing they could always find the other in the cul-de-sac or the school hallways.

“Done.” Tom said, saving his contact information and passing the phone back to Penny, who quickly dashed off a text so he would have her information as well.

“I should probably head back into the office now,” Penny said. “But it was great to see you.”

“You too,” Tom said, standing to hug her. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to come to a little party slash happy hour thing I’m having on Friday. It’s super casual, basically just drinks and fancy snacks with a bunch of people from the office. I think they’d all love to meet you and talk music. Off the record,” he added quickly.

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Penny replied. “I should be free Friday.”

“Great. I’ll text you my address and we can take it from there.”

“Thanks, Tom,” Penny said, collecting her trash. “I’m really looking forward to seeing more of you.”

“Same. I’ll see you on Friday.”

Penny waved as she threw her trash away and headed back to her building. She smiled to herself. It would be nice to have another friendly face around. They were too rare in her line of work.

***

Penny promptly shut her laptop at 5pm, stowing it in her tote bag and pushing her chair underneath her desk.

“Have a nice weekend!” she called out to the few staffers that were remaining in the newsroom, before heading to her car. She plugged Tom’s address into her GPS app, hit play on her Spotify playlist, and pulled out of the parking lot. She was about 45 minutes away, thanks to the heavy traffic that was a near constant presence in the city, but made it to Tom’s house before her 80s synth mix was finished playing, which she counted as a win.

She grabbed her bag and fished around in the backseat for the bottle of wine she’d purchased earlier that day. She wasn’t sure if this was that type of gathering, but she felt weird showing up empty handed. Hopefully Tom wouldn’t say no to some Trader Joe’s wine. She locked her car and walked up the path and heard some shouts coming from the backyard. She rang the bell and just a few moments later, Tom appeared with a smile on his face.

“Penny! Come on in!” he said, opening the door for her. “How was the drive over?”

“Not as bad as it could have been,” she replied, shrugging off her cardigan and tote bag.

“I can take those,” Tom offered, reaching for her belongings, and placing them in a nearby closet.

“Thanks,” Penny said. “And this is for you,” she added, offering him the bottle of wine.

“You didn’t have to bring anything.”

“It’s from Trader Joe’s, Tom. It is quite literally the least I could do.”

He laughed. “Well, thank you. I’ll put it out now. It’s an open bar, so help yourself. Once you get a drink, I’ll take you around and introduce you to everyone.”

Penny poured herself a rum and Coke, and followed Tom out to the patio, drink in hand.

“Penny, I’d like you to meet Tommy Bruce,” he said. “Tommy, this is my friend, Penny. We reconnected the other day.”

“Pleasure, Penny,” Tommy said, shaking her hand. “Do you also work in the industry?”

“Sort of. I’m a critic and reporter at The Moment. I cover music.”

“That’s sick. Do you go to a lot of shows?”

“Yes. I was at Elton John’s show the other day and I’m planning to see Post Animal in a couple of weeks.”

“I was at Elton too! I wonder if we ran into each other?”

“We probably did,” Penny said with a laugh.

“Are you planning to go to Leon Bridges?”

“I’m not sure yet. I have to get everything approved by my editor so it’s up to her.”

“I hope you can. He’s so good. Hey, Jeff!”

Tom and Tommy turned their attention to another man that had approached their small group.

“Penny, this is the man, the myth, the legend, Jeffrey Azoff,” Tom said.

“They exaggerate,” Jeff said. “Nice to meet you Penny.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Penny said, moving her drink to her other hand so she could shake Jeff’s. “I’m an old friend of Tom’s from growing up. I work as a music journalist now.”

“Yeah, you’re at The Moment, right?” Jeff said.

“Yes…” Penny said slowly.

“OK,” Tommy said, affably rolling his eyes. “He’s such a show off.”

“I try to keep up with those who cover our clients, that’s all,” Jeff said. “And if it makes me look like a show-off, so be it,” he added, as Tommy playfully punched his shoulder.

As the men continued to banter, Penny surveyed the room, making the silent calculation she faced nearly everyday. Including herself, there were four women total at the gathering, which felt like a huge accomplishment. Working in her industry, she was used to being one of the only women in the room, a blessing and a curse.

The blessing was that whenever she found another woman at an event or meeting, they instantly gravitated toward each other, which meant she’d made a lot of friends in just a few years. The curse was obvious: men.

The men that surrounded her weren’t the worst offenders – they kept their hands and other body parts to themselves and were generally very kind – but being the lone woman was noticeable. Men would casually throw out that someone was a “bitch” or offer Penny an explanation that they didn’t give to a male reporter two years her junior. Penny usually just took it with a grain of salt, sighing internally, complaining to Chloe, and then proving her worth by being the smartest one in the room. Keeping an eye on two women chatting in the corner, she started to move towards them to introduce herself when she caught sight of another person across the way.

Harry Styles.

Or was it? Was that actually him? Chloe was right, she needed to wear her glasses more often. But Harry Styles being here didn’t make any sense. What would he be doing at a random house party?

She felt a hand on her shoulder and stepped over to the side to allow the person to pass and collect her thoughts. The more she thought about it, Harry Styles being at this party made sense. She knew from stories she’d worked on that he was repped by Full Stop, so it wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility that he would hang out with Tom and the other agents outside of work, but it was still jarring to see him out in the wild.

Whenever she told people she was a music journalist, their first instinct was to assume that she was close to many of the artists she reported on daily, but that wasn’t the case. When she was attending an event, it was a professional engagement. She was there to gather the facts, tell a story, and move on. Socializing with those in the industry outside of that professional setting made her uncomfortable. Especially when she was working on a review or piece of criticism. It was one thing to write those things and send them off into the vacuum of the internet, but when she thought about the subjects of the reviews reading her writing, she started to feel…guilty. She never intended to be mean – she knew how she felt when she received harsh notes from an editor – but the point of her reviews was to offer commentary and opinions. And if she thought too much about the people behind the work, her objectivity disappeared. So, she’d made a concerted effort to keep a firm boundary to ensure her writing was as good as it could be.

The few times she did meet musicians outside of work events, she could feel her brain going a mile a minute to remember if she’d ever written something slightly negative about them for fear they’d call her out on it, as despite what every musician claimed, they always read the reviews. And her brain started working overtime to perform these mental calculations as she saw Harry stop in front of her.

“Haven’t seen you here before. I’m Harry,” he drawled slowly, reaching out his hand.

Penny momentarily froze, but quickly recovered. “I’m Penny,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Do you work at Full Stop?” he asked, eyes glancing over her as if he was trying to figure out where she should be placed.

“No.”

“At one of the labels?”

“No.”

“OK, well I’m stumped as to where you fit it,” he said with a light laugh. “Care to enlighten me?”

“I’m a writer,” Penny replied, hoping the vague nature of her answer was enough to satisfy him.

“Have you written anything I’ve read?”

“Maybe.”

“Care to give me any other clues?” he asked, sipping from the plastic cup in his hand and leaning in closer to hear her response. Penny couldn’t tell what it was, but from the smell wafting over to her, it was something strong.

“I’m a journalist.”

“What do you cover?” Another sip, his eyes intensely focused on her.

“Entertainment,” Penny said simply, praying this game of 20 questions would be over soon.

“That’s kind of vague,” Harry replied quickly.

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Oh! A woman with an air of mystery. That’s…” he paused. “Enticing.”

“Enticing?” Penny quirked a brow and shot him a bemused grin.

“Yeah, it’s like a challenge. You’re making me work for it.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, maybe a drink?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Wow. Subtle.”

“I try.” The corners of his lips ticked up. “Maybe I should try a little harder though.”

Penny was thinking up a witty comeback, somewhat amused by the situation she’d found herself in and very pleased that she’d have a new story to share with Chloe at lunch on Monday, when Tom interrupted their conversation.

“There you two are! I was hoping to introduce you all tonight.” He looked at Harry, gesturing to Penny. “This is Penny. She’s a friend from back home who’s a big time writer for The Moment. She writes reviews for concerts and albums.”

Penny snuck a look at Harry and thought she saw a flicker of…something…in his eyes. It was so subtle and so brief that she didn’t have time to think about what it could mean before she felt Tom’s arm on her back.

“And Penny, you of course know Harry.”

“I do. I think one of my friends had a toothbrush with your face on it.”

“Hmmm,” Harry murmured. “Those were a hot item for sure.”

Tom’s eyes darted between the two, evidently waiting for them to continue the conversation he had interrupted. Seeing that that wasn’t going to happen, he excused himself and moved onto another group of people.

“So, music is the kind of entertainment you cover.” The banter was back but it had a harder edge this time.

“It is.”

“Have you ever written about me?”

Penny mulled her potential responses, trying to find one that could cause the path of least resistance. “No,” she said simply.

“Really?” Harry said. The challenge in his voice was evident. “You weren’t the one who said I sound like ‘a young boy trying to imitate his elders?’”

Fuck. Penny felt her face grow hot. “That might have been me.”

“I thought so.”

“How long did you know?”

“Once Tom said the name of where you work. There aren’t that many critics named Penny that wrote a scathing review of my album.”

“It wasn’t scathing,” Penny said, suddenly feeling defensive of her work. “It was critical, sure, but that’s what my job is. I’m a critic. And besides, don't musicians get off on bragging about how they don’t pay attention to the reviews?”

“Hate to break it to you but that’s a load of bullshit. We are all very sensitive creatures.”

“Well, that’s clear based on how you’re acting now.”

“How I'm acting? You’re the one that’s yelling in the middle of a party.”

“I’m not yelling!” Penny said, lowering her voice by a couple of decibels. “You’re the one that came over here trying to score and then decided to pick a fight because you can’t forget about one review from like two years ago.”

“I’m sorry–” Harry laughed in disbelief. “You thought I was trying to get lucky? What made you think that?”

“‘Ah! A mysterious woman! So enticing! I like a challenge. You’re making me bloody work for it. Let’s get a drink!’” Penny shot back in a poor imitation of his slow, deep voice.

“I did not say that.”

“Yes you did!” Penny yelped. “You totally did.”

“Whatever,” Harry mumbled, taking another sip of his drink while Penny just looked at him.

“That’s all you have to say?”

Harry looked at her blankly. “Yes?”

“Oh, I thought you might offer up a sorry.”

“What for?”

“For attacking my work.”

“I hate to break it to you, Penny, but I think you attacked my work first.”

“Because it’s my fucking job!”

“Everything alright over here?” Jeff asked, stepping into the conversation. The look of caution on his face told Penny that her conversation with Harry had been overheard by the others at the party.

“We’re fine,” Penny said evenly.

“Yeah, peachy keen,” Harry added, earning a glare from Penny.

“I should actually be going,” Penny said.

“Oh, can’t you stay a little longer?” Jeff asked as Harry muttered “Bye, then.” Jeff cut his eyes over to Harry, who avoided his glance. “Alright then,” he said slowly. “It was nice to meet you, Penny. Hope to see you around.”

“You, too,” Penny said before swiftly leaving the group.

“What was that about?” Jeff asked, attention turned back to Harry.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“You were a bit, shall we say…dickish…back there?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“If you say so,” Jeff said. He paused. “Have you read any of her work?”

“I’ve read enough of it.”

“You should honestly read some more. The Moment in general is a really up-and-coming publication. They’ve poached some stellar writers and editors from Billboard and Rolling Stone. And Penny…she’s smart. I think you all would have a lot to talk about.”

Harry glared at Jeff. “What makes you say that?”

“She’s got an interesting perspective. Her reviews always leave me thinking about things in a different way and I can’t say that about many critics.”

“Oh really,” Harry shot back, suddenly combative. “Did you start to reconsider my album after reading her review?”

“Calm down, H,” Jeff said gently. “Your album is a fantastic accomplishment and you know it. And she doesn’t just write criticism, she does cultural pieces as well. Check them out. She was on a podcast last year that you might find interesting.” Jeff pulled out his phone, typing quickly. “Here’s a link. Give it a listen and let me know what you think.”

Harry shot Jeff another glare and drained his cup. “Thanks,” he said dryly. “I’ll move it to the top of the list. See you later,” he called, pushing past his manager.

He tossed his cup into a nearby trash can and combed the room for Tom, offering a wave as he walked out the door. Harry walked slowly down the driveway, feeling the cool night air blow through his hair, relishing the peace. He’d felt a little off all day, but couldn’t put a finger on why, and his encounter with Penny had thrown him even more off balance. He’d been feeling like this a lot recently. Like he didn’t quite fit in alongside the other pieces of his life. He reached his car and unlocked it, sliding inside.

He plugged in his phone and stared out the windshield. Penny. He hadn’t known who she was when he approached her that night. Only that she looked pretty and that the smile she’d worn when he saw her talking to Jeff and Tommy made him want to know more about her. But as the pieces fell into place, it was impossible to look past what she’d done to him two years ago.

He didn’t know why her review had struck such a nerve with him. It wasn’t like his debut had been released to unanimous raves, and after two years of looking back on it, while he was proud of what he’d accomplished, he could see the weak spots in his work and was hoping to improve upon them with his second album. The hurt that lingered was just one of those implacable feelings.

Rolling his neck and feeling it crack, he pulled on his seatbelt and scrolled through his music library looking for something to listen to on the ride home. But after cycling through the entire library twice to no avail, he opened the text Jeffrey had sent him earlier, pressing play on the podcast episode that had been shared with him before turning the key in the ignition. His drive home was long but while he usually grew antsy watching the clock change as he sat bumper to bumper with other drivers, tonight his mind was occupied listening to the discussion echoing through his speakers.

It was an episode from one of Variety’s podcasts last year, shortly after his Forum concerts. Penny was a guest, chatting with the two guys who served as hosts. One of them sounded cool, and the other sounded like someone that he’d like to punch in the face if they ever crossed paths in real life. The episode was about his tour, specifically his shows in Los Angeles. It was weird listening to people talk about him like he was a commodity for consumption, and not like a human, a blatant reminder of why he typically abstained from engaging with anything like this.

Much to his surprise, Penny played the role of his supporter throughout the podcast, jumping to his defense when the Asshole, or whatever his name was, levied harsh words at Harry and his fans. He wouldn’t have expected that based on what she’d previously written. On the track, they shifted topics and Harry’s mind drifted off as the episode played on, ending moments before he arrived at his home. He turned off the car but made no effort to head inside. Instead, he picked up his phone and opened Instagram where he typed in Penny’s name.

Her account popped up right away. He scrolled over her page, unsurprised by what he found. Lots of pictures of concerts, sunsets on the beach, and admittedly delicious looking food. There weren’t many pictures of her but he found one that was relatively recent, posted last Christmas. She was smiling alongside some other women, probably friends based on the caption, and once again he felt something tugging inside of him when he looked at her. Next, he redownloaded the Twitter app, something he swore he would never do, and typed in Penny’s name, skimming through her Tweets. Jeff was right. She was frustratingly and irritatingly smart.

Closing out of Twitter, he navigated back to Instagram, finger hovering over the follow button. He hesitated, but after a minute his finger came down on the icon and it changed from blue to gray.

As he put his phone in his pocket and locked his car, across town Penny’s phone lit up with a notification. She missed the initial alert as she washed her face and pulled on the old college t-shirt she wore to bed most nights, but she finally noticed it when she went to set her alarm: Harry Styles followed you.

What the fuck was he trying to do? After laying into her the way he did at Tom’s house, completely unprovoked, the last thing she wanted to do was interact with him in the virtual world. She deleted the notification, plugged in her phone, and went to sleep.

When Harry woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was check his Instagram notifications. He scrolled past most of them – comments and following alerts from random fans and bots – but among all of the familiar amalgamations of usernames, Penny’s was nowhere to be found.

He laid his phone on his chest and stared at the ceiling. What game was she trying to play with him? And why did he feel so upset? The silence that surrounded him as he laid motionless was so loud.

When he finally found the motivation to get out of bed, he pulled on some jogging shorts and a tank and laced up his sneakers, grabbing headphones on his way out the door. He was hoping that a run might clear his head, but thoughts of Penny from the night before echoed alongside the sound of his feet on the pavement. Clarity hadn’t been found when he reached the five mile point, so he begrudgingly turned around to head home and shower. His mind was still swirling as he got cleaned up, and by the time he was dressed for the day and brewing coffee, he had a plan.

He pulled up his contacts and scrolled until he found the name he was looking for, pacing nervously while the phone rang.

“Hey,” the voice on the other line said. “Is everything OK?”

“Yeah, Tom. Sorry for the early morning call,” Harry said, twisting his fringe around his finger as he continued to do laps around the island. “Are you heading into the office today?”

“Seeing as it’s Saturday, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh, shit,” Harry said, cringing when he took note of the early weekend hour. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“Not a problem,” Tom replied, stifling what seemed to be a yawn. “I’ll be there bright and early on Monday.

“Oh, nice. Would you maybe want to catch up and grab lunch?”

“That would be great, seeing as it’ll have been close to 48 hours since we last caught up,” Tom said a bit facetiously.

Harry said nothing trying to extract his fingers from the knot he’d twisted his fringe into. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled after a moment.

“H, I’m kidding,” Tom said with a light laugh. “You can always swing by. Would you want to go to the bistro?”

“No, why don’t we pick somewhere more convenient to you. How about Loqui?” Harry suggested naming one of the restaurants that was in the campus that housed both the Full Stop and The Moment offices.

“Uh, yeah that’s fine. I’ll see you then. Have a good weekend, H.”

“You too, Tom.”

Harry hung up the phone and tried to figure out how he’d distract himself until Monday.

***

As Penny sat in her editor’s office Monday morning, she was trying to calculate when her next dental appointment was scheduled for and whether or not she’d be able to add on some x-rays to survey the damage done to her jaw after clenching it as hard as she had that morning.

Darren had finished reviewing her piece over the weekend, and had suggested they review his edits first thing, which wasn't the way she wanted to start the week.

“I think the biggest problem you have here is that this isn’t a story,” he said, scrolling through the copy on his laptop. “You only have one example of this phenomenon if we want to call it that and I honestly don’t think that TikTok is that important to the success of the song. In my professional career, we’ve seen plenty of songs do this. It’s nothing unusual.”

“But you’re missing the point,” Penny said, pushing back. “The whole idea is yes, this hasn’t happened before, but it’s the way forward. This is going to be the new version of Justin Bieber getting discovered on YouTube or Shawn Mendes on Vine.” She could feel herself getting angry and took a breath to calm herself. “You’re always telling us to be ahead of the story and that’s what I’m doing.”

“But this isn’t a story.”

Penny bit the inside of her cheek as she struggled to keep her cool. “OK, then, what do you suggest I do?”

Darren sighed. “Write it up like a regular chart recap and include a couple of lines about how it’s getting close to a record.”

“Because of TikTok?”

“No mention of TikTok. We don’t want to look like we don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“We have a chance to scoop Rolling Stone and Billboard and you’re just ignoring it.”

“Because it’s not a story. End of discussion. I’ve got a meeting to go to.”

Darren stood up and exited the office, leaving Penny stunned and furious. When she’d collected herself, she moved back to her desk in the newsroom. She spun around in her chair, any motivation to work gone.

Editors, specifically Skylar, were constantly telling them to push boundaries and find the stories no one was writing on yet. Unfortunately, they weren’t always on the same page, which led to a great deal of frustration when it came time to file a story. Penny could submit a story thinking it was Pullitzer-worthy, but be left questioning her entire life path after a single round of edits. Almost as if she could sense the tension brewing, Chloe poked her head over top of the divider that separated their desks.

“I think you need coffee. Or a pastry. Or lunch. Basically you just need to not be in this office right now, so we’re going for a walk.”

Penny begrudgingly grabbed her purse and ID and headed towards the exit, close behind Chloe, who was listing off restaurant options.

“Loqui,” Penny eventually said, stopping the list. “I’m in the mood for some spice.”

After walking a few blocks they found themselves at the restaurant, scanning the menu above the cash register. They ordered – a beef plate for Chloe and chicken plate for Penny – and had stood off to the side waiting for their respective numbers to be called, when they were interrupted.

“So we go years without seeing each other and then all of a sudden it’s three times in one week?” Tom called from behind a partition.

“Oh my God,” Penny said, laughing with actual mirth for the first time all day. “What are the odds?”

“Nice to see you again,” Chloe added.

“Are you all dining in?” Tom asked, eyes shifting between the two women.

“Yeah,” Chloe chimed in. “Needed to get out of the office for a little while.”

“I feel that,” Tom replied. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Penny looked at Chloe, who nodded her agreement. Neither woman asked who “us” was.

Their numbers were called and when they’d collected their food they slid into the booth, leaving space around the plate of veggie tacos that had been placed in front of an empty chair.

“How’s your week shaping up?” Chloe asked Tom.

He shrugged. “Mondays are always rough, but it’s all downhill from here.”

“What is management like? Do you have a routine?” Chloe continued. “Like with reporting, there’s a certain cadence with different deadlines and interviews. Is there a similar thing for you all?”

“Sort of. If we’re on tour a lot of people have a routine they like to stick to. When we’re in the office, it’s a little less structured. Depends on what each client is working on.”

Penny kept her eyes on her plate, her thoughts still focused on her earlier conversation with Darren. Eyes on the floor, she saw the white loafers and yellow socks before the face of the man they belonged to.

“You’re out to lunch with Tom?” Penny asked in disbelief when her eyes met Harry’s.

“Yeah. I didn’t think there’d be a problem with that,” he mumbled as he sat in front of the plate.

“I’m Chloe. I don’t think we’ve met,” Chloe interjected helpfully.

“Harry,” Harry returned, extending his hand.

Penny stared daggers at him, but Harry refused to look at her. Penny knew he was observing her though, feeling his eyes burning into her whenever she looked away. Neither of them spoke, leaving Tom and Chloe to fill the silence with banal conversation.

As they chattered on, Penny continued to feel the heat of Harry’s glare on her.

“Can I help you?” she finally snapped.

“What?” he shot back.

“If you have something to say, just fucking say it.”

“I’ve got nothing to say,” he said, spooning some mushrooms and peppers into his mouth.

“Really? Because it looks like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“OK, then,” Harry shot back, putting his spoon down next to his plate. “Why’d you give my album such a shit review?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I do!”

“That’s a great argument,” Penny said, rolling her eyes.

“Well how about this,” Harry said, turning to face her. “I’m trying to figure out how someone who supposedly loves music and everything it stands for can be such a hater.”

“A hater?” Penny could feel the prickly sensation behind her eyes that meant tears were just moments away. “I’m sorry. The 90s called and they want their slang back.”

“Yeah, all of your reviews are just so…mean. It’s like you forget there’s someone behind that album.”

“Almost like forgetting there’s a person behind the review?”

“Don’t twist my words like that.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying it’s a two way street.”

“All you are is a second-rate journalist who isn’t good enough to work for a legitimate publication, so instead of saying things that actually matter, you just share your shitty takes to try to get Twitter clout.”

Penny could feel her lips tremble, but she was determined to not give Harry the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “You know, it’s generally frowned upon to harass a journalist in a public setting just because you don’t care for what they have to say.” She sniffed and much to her chagrin, she could feel her eyes getting wet. “But now you’ve got me crying in a restaurant so I hope you’re satisfied.” She grabbed her purse, leaving her food nearly untouched on the table. “I’ll see you back at the office, Chloe.”

Chloe and Tom’s eyes followed her as she walked out of the restaurant. Harry kept his eyes locked on his plate.

“I should probably check on her,” Chloe said after a moment.

“That might be for the best,” Tom said. “Let me grab a box. You can take her her food.”

Chloe picked up her own bag and leftovers, balancing them alongside Penny’s. “Wish this could have been longer but…” she trailed off as Tom nodded. She looked at Harry. “I’m not entirely sure what this is about but I’ve never met anyone who loves music more than Penny, so whatever assumptions you have about her, she’s not a ‘hater.’ She’s also not second-rate. She’s fucking brilliant, but maybe you’re just too dumb to see that.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the restaurant.

Harry picked up his spoon and started pushing the remaining vegetables and bits of tortilla around on his plate. The air was heavy with the unspoken questions on Tom’s tongue. “Go ahead and say it,” Harry said after a moment.

“Is there something going on with you?” Tom asked, point blank. “You’ve been kind of moody lately and I’m here if you want to talk.”

Harry looked up at him. “That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed that you yelled at my friend like that, but whatever issues you all have it’s not my business and I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, a little more firmly. “I just – I haven’t been feeling great and I’m sure this is just a byproduct of whatever that is.”

“Studio stress?”

“Yeah, that,” Harry said, taking the out he was handed.

“Well, you can always talk to me, man. Just gotta let me know that something’s going on.”

Harry nodded and focused on finishing his lunch.

***

Back in the newsroom, Penny picked at the remnants of her lunch that Chloe had deposited on her desk, refreshing the feeds in her RSS reader while she waited on Darren’s edits. When he Slacked her that he was through, she opened the Google Doc to find that he had completely rewritten it. Ordinarily, she would have fought back, challenging him on everything down to the placement of commas, but she felt too drained after her earlier bout with him and the subsequent battle with Harry.

She signed off on the two rounds of edits as quickly as she could and returned to refreshing her browser.

“Are you ready to talk?” Chloe asked, poking her head over the frosted glass between them.

Penny shrugged. “Not much to discuss. I suck at doing my job. Darren agrees! Harry agrees! So does Walt from who the hell knows! I should just quit while I’m ahead.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “Who is Walt and how does he factor into this equation?”

“Just some jerk on Twitter who also thinks I can’t write for shit.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Chloe said. “That’s how much time you have left to wallow. After that, you have to get up, look in the mirror, and realize that you are a bad bitch who deserves this job more than anyone.”

“I deserve twenty minutes,” Penny shot back. “But thank you for the words of encouragement. I know I just need to move on, but it’s hard to do that when it feels like this happens every fucking day just because Darren thinks I’m an idiot.”

“I know, Pen, but you just have to hang in there.” Chloe looked around before leaning in closer. “I heard a rumor that Darren’s days are numbered so things may be looking up for you.”

“Seriously?” The long running joke of the newsroom was that Darren had witnessed the CEO of the company hit someone with his car and that’s how he managed to land the job and stay gainfully employed for as long as he had.

“You didn’t hear it from me,” Chloe said, sinking back into her desk chair.

On slow days like this one, Penny typically filled her afternoon with source calls and research for future stories but with her motivation subzero, she made her way to the parking garage at 5pm on the dot, ready for a night of wine, takeout, and Friends reruns.

When she reached her car, she was surprised to find Tom there.

“Hey…” she said slowly.

“Hey, I didn’t want to miss you.”

“Should I be worried?” she asked jokingly. “I run into you after years of silence and a week later you’re waiting for me at my car?”

“I promise I’m not following you,” Tom said with a laugh. “I just had to tell you…I know this means nothing coming from me, but Harry isn’t usually like that.”

Penny sighed. “I don’t care, Tom. It’s been a day and I’d rather just move on to prepare for tomorrow’s battles.”

“I know, but it’s important to me that you know the truth.”

“Trying to make sure I don’t start a nasty rumor about your client?”

“No, just trying to make sure you don’t have the wrong idea about a great guy.”

“Great guy?” Penny’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “Are you trying to set me up with him now? Because I’m not interested.”

“No,” Tom huffed, rolling his eyes. “Although there could be something there…”

“Nope, not happening,” Penny said.

“Seriously,” Tom said, the earnestness returning to his eyes. “Harry’s a good guy and I think under the right circumstances you all would actually get along.”

“Tom, even if we were the last people on Earth tasked with repopulating the planet, I’d rather let the human race go extinct than willingly spend time with Harry Styles.”

“Wow, that’s uh, harsh and vivid,” Tom said, scratching the back of his neck. “You just need to understand that he’s under a lot of pressure with the new album.”

“New album?” That caught Penny’s attention.

“Shit!” Tom exclaimed, realizing the magnitude of what he’d shared. “That’s entirely off the record. I’m serious, Pen!”

“Woodward and Bernstein had Deep Throat telling them government secrets in a garage, and I have Tom Skoglund blabbing album releases next to my decrepit Toyota…does this mean my Pulitzer is on the way.”

“I mean it, Penny. I could get in a lot of trouble.”

“It’s fine, Tom. I’m not going to tell anyone. I’ll see you later.”

Tom nodded and headed back to the Full Stop office as Penny climbed into her car and pulled out of the garage.

Later that night after two glasses of wine and about 10 episodes of Friends, Penny decided to sign into her work email. She told herself that she wouldn’t check work emails off the clock, but she always gave into the temptation. She scrolled past the usual news alerts and reader feedback until one subject line stopped her cold.

“An Apology.”

She opened it before she realized what she was doing.

Hi Penny, the email began

It’s Harry. I’d like to apologize for the way I acted at Tom’s party the other night, as well as what I said in the restaurant earlier today. You’re right – it was entirely inappropriate for me to behave that way, and I’m sincerely sorry for any hurt or hard feelings that may have come about on your end as a result.

I just wanted to get this off my chest and conscience.

Hope your evening is treating you well.

All the best,

Harry

Penny was speechless, staring at her phone as Ross Geller’s cries of “We were on a break!” and the subsequent laugh track echoed in her empty apartment.

Harry had apologized.

When she recovered, her first instinct was to text Tom, attaching a screenshot of the email.

Did you put him up to this? she asked.

No, came Tom’s swift reply. See what I mean though? Not a bad guy.

Penny reread the email once, twice, three times, taking in the way he’d introduced himself, but left off his last name. The way his writing was devoid of exclamation points. The effort finding her address and sending the email entailed.

She doubted he’d got it from Tom, seeing as Tom had no clue about the message, which meant he’d either pulled it from The Moment’s website or her Twitter bio. Either option meant he’d taken the time to look her up, typing her name into the search bar to find her profile. Knowing that Harry had searched for her specifically made her feel some type of way. She wasn’t sure what.

She didn’t like Harry Styles, but maybe he wasn’t as horrible as she thought.

***

talk to me! || join the taglist || story inspo

taglist: @harrysfolklore @platinumbarbie143 @majasophieanna @lukesaprince @styles217 @andwhenshesays @be-with-me-so-happily

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles ff #harry styles series #harry styles x ofc #harry fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic

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wheels-of-despair · 7 months

Text

Enough | A Make Up Story | Tom Grant x You | Series Masterlist

Chapter 13: You Never Danced for Me Like That Words: 2k

You showered away the day's grime and traded your comfortable clothes for a Going Out Outfit that you'd bought on shopping trip with Jade that seemed like a hundred years ago.

"Too much?" you asked, looking down cynically.

"Perfect."

Tom wore dark jeans and a plain t-shirt. He looked perfect too.

You didn't often go out on your own. If you were with Jade, you let her pick the outfit and do your makeup. She was better at this sort of thing. But even if he wasn't being entirely truthful, Tom's approval made you feel like your efforts were worth it.

You put on your jackets, and you toss him your keys.

"Watch out for drunk idiots wandering in the middle of the road, I don't think my car can survive another one of those," you tease.

"You're very funny." His tone is sarcastic, but his smile is wide.

You turn out the lights and follow him to your car. On the way, he tells you about the bar he's taking you to. He says its outer appearance is so unremarkable, the tourists don't usually bother with it, so it's a favorite of the locals. Which sounds nice, but the reality is that you'd let him take you anywhere.

It doesn't look like much from the outside, as advertised, but the inside is warm and welcoming. Almost everything is made of wood; the bar, the mismatched chairs and stools, the tiny tables. Yellowing photographs and vintage advertisements decorate the walls. It's nothing at all like the places in the city Jade used to take you to, all new and neon and packed with bodies.

"You want a drink?" It's not very loud in here, but Tom leans down to your ear to ask anyway. You nod. He takes your hand and leads the way to the bar.

"Usual, mate," Tom tells the bartender, dropping a few bills on the bar and spinning around to scan for familiar faces. The man pulls out a bottle from beneath the counter and pops the top off, sets it in front of Tom, and raises an eyebrow at you.

"Uh, same, please."

The bartender sets your beer down and collects his payment.

You and Tom thank him and wind your way through a cluster of tables. You smile when you recognize Kyle, who's sitting with a pretty blonde you've never seen before. You settle in next to Tom at their table, and he casually slips his arm around the backrest of your chair. After a few minutes of sipping beer and partaking in awkward conversation, you notice that more people are filtering in by the minute. You give Tom's knee a squeeze and get up to explore the jukebox while it's free. You slip a coin in and browse, then you feel arms sliding around your waist. You tense, but relax when you see Tom's reflection in the glass.

"You alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine. It's just that you've been my only human contact for nearly a week. I've forgotten how to interact in the wild." You press a few buttons and lean back into him with a smile.

"You should dance with me, then," he mumbles into your neck. "Forget everyone else is even here."

You hate to dance. It makes you feel like an idiot. Like everyone's watching you. Judging you. Jade even calls your third drink of the night your Dance Drink, because that's how many it usually takes to get you out onto the dance floor with her.

You don't know what's possessed you, but instead of protesting, you let Tom lead you onto the dance floor. A slow song you recognize but can't place right away plays through the room's many speakers. Not that anything else actually matters when you lock onto those beautiful brown orbs of his. You sway back and forth with him for what felt like both seconds and hours, staring into each other's eyes as one song fades into another, until a grating one-hit wonder comes on and messes up your flow.

"Want another beer?" he asks. You smile and nod, and Tom gives you a soft kiss before returning to the bar.

You stand to the side and people-watch while you wait for him to come back. The blonde has seated herself in Kyle's lap, so you don't want to go back to the table and interrupt. The crowd has grown considerably since you arrived, but you'd been so focused on Tom, you hadn't noticed until now.

"You never danced for me like that," a velvety voice says from behind you. You swallow and turn. Jade smiles at you like it's hurting her.

"I wasn't dancing for him, Jade," you say slowly, like seeing her again is hurting you too. "I was dancing with him."

Her smile disappears, and concern clouds her face. "Are you doing alright, dove?"

"I'm fine."

Before you can analyze if you really are fine or not, her eyes dart to your left, and she takes a step back. "You two have fun, yeah? You deserve it. Really!" Jade smiles once more and disappears into the crowd. You know Ruth is here somewhere, but you can't see her. And that's fine with you.

You turn around to find a red-faced Tom clutching two beer bottles. "What did she want?" he asks through gritted teeth, glaring in the direction she'd disappeared. The veins in his neck are strained.

You reach up and cup his face, making him look at you.

"Nothing," you smile. When his eyes soften, you free the bottles from his death grip and place them on a nearby table. You pull him closer by his belt loops. "Nothing at all," you whisper, letting your lips ghost over the hot skin of his neck before leaving one, two, three kisses there. You eventually reach his mouth. Are you putting on a show? Perhaps. Does that make it any less enjoyable? Not at all.

Tom pulls away for a deep breath, then rests his forehead against yours. His hands fall to your hips and he pulls you closer, under the guise of continuing to dance. You can feel his erection pressing against you. You look down between you, then up at his red face and raise an eyebrow in amusement.

"Any chance you're ready to go home?" Tom bites his lip.

"Oh no, I won't be ready to go for hours. I'm having far too much fun making you blush in front of all these people."

His face falls. You lean close to whisper in his ear.

"Do you think they know why you're pressed up against me so tight?"

"Please," he whines. You laugh at his pouty face, but know you can't deny him anything.

"Take me home, Tom."

Tom grabs your untouched beers, deposits them on the table as a gift for Kyle and his blonde friend, and pulls you out the door without another word.

You take the wheel this time. What you have planned for Tom will work much better if there are no lives in his hands… while he's in yours.

"Why are you driving so fucking slow?" Tom complains once you're on the road, squirming in the passenger seat.

"It's Friday night and it's dark. There could be drunks wandering about."

He huffs an annoyed breath through his nostrils and adjusts himself again.

"Why are you so fucking antsy?" you tease, knowing the answer. You don't take your eyes off the road, but you can feel him glowering at you.

When you leave the main road behind, you decide to take pity on him. Or maybe make it worse, who's to say. You reach over and rest your hand on his upper thigh. He freezes for a moment, but once he realizes what this could mean, he shifts closer to you.

You smirk and keep your hand in place, rubbing your thumb over the inner seam of his jeans and making no move to take things further.

"Are you going to torture me all night?" he asks.

"What would you have me do, Tom? I'm driving, you see." He whines again, and you suppress a laugh. This is your new favorite game. Tom bucks his hips into your unsuspecting hand so you can feel how hard he is. You remove your hand and place it back on the steering wheel.

After a moment of silence, he's back for more. "Please."

"Please what, Tom?"

"Please touch me." He says it so desperately, you can't torment him any longer. You cup his bulge and lightly tease him through the denim. Tom throws his head back against the headrest and grips the edge of his seat.

"You think you can last 'til we get home?"

"No," he breathes.

"Okay, then," you say, starting to your hand away again. Tom's fingers close around your wrist.

"Please don't stop, I'll try, I promise I'll try."

"Alright, Tom," you grin. "If you make it home, you get to decide what's next. If you don't… I'm gonna torture you all night long."

"Deal." He releases your hand and clenches his fists. As fun as tormenting him is, you really would like to see him make it home without blowing a load in his jeans. You take it easy on him the rest of the way, finally pulling your hand away when you reach the caravan park.

You drive slowly through the paths to Tom's, and don't look at him again until you've turned off the ignition and the headlights.

"Did we make it?" you tease, knowing he did. He nods. "I knew you could do it," you grin. "What's next, Tom?"

"Right here."

"Right here?"

Tom nods, and you smirk. You reach over to unzip his jeans, but he jumps into action and beats you to it. He shimmies them down enough to free himself from his denim prison and waits. Even in the orange glow of the security lamps, you can see how much he's blushing. He's so fucking beautiful.

You twist in your seat and bend, taking him in your mouth. You're done teasing. You feel Tom's hand on the back of your head; not trying to move you or hold you in place, just letting you feel that he's there with you. After a few bobs, you swirl your tongue over his head the way he likes, and his hand closes in your hair as his hips jerk upward. He releases you as soon as he comes down and realizes what he's done.

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry," he pants, looking fearful.

"It's alright," you chuckle, instinctively wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. "You good?"

"You have no fucking idea," he laughs, tucking himself back into his boxers. He leans back against the headrest and looks at you, the light from outside making half his face glow like the most beautiful sunset imaginable. You reach over to brush a sweaty curl from his forehead.

"What's next, Tom?"

"You," he smirks. "Think we're gonna need a little more room."

You raced inside and spent hours pulling orgasm after orgasm from each other. Arms and legs in a tangle. Sheets soaked with sweat. Not a care in the world.

When you finally exhausted your energy for the night, you lie on your side and watch him, stroking his soft curls as he loses consciousness. Even half-asleep, his smile is goofy and gorgeous. He sighs happily and burrows further into his pillow, getting comfortable before sleep finally takes him.

"Love you, Ruth."

You felt your heart shatter for the second time that week.

#writings of despair #tom grant is enough #tom grant #tom grant x you #tom grant x reader

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shebadfuckk · 3 months

Text

Part 2

Fuck. I’m stuck.

It was a two seater van. One big sliding door, that wasn’t opening no matter how hard I pulled. I realized my pounding and shouting was completely useless and I was wasting precious seconds, so I began frantically looked around the van for something to break the front window out with. I found a screwdriver lying underneath the passenger seat and grabbed it quickly. I climbed over the seat and pulled my arm back, ready to hit the window as hard as I could, closing my eyes to shelter myself from the flying glass that would come. As I swung my arm forward, the clash that followed was not the one I expected to feel. Instead of glass shattering around me, a hand grabbed my wrist while another arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his chest. “Shhhh sh sh shh. You don’t need that.”

Spaz. He took the screwdriver out of my hand easily despite how hard I was gripping it. He had a backpack full of bags of money now and quickly migrated me right back into the bed of the van and plopped the extra bags of money next to me. I restated in my mind how important those seconds of pointlessly pounding on the van door were, and how I was going to have to be more careful and calm going forward if I planned on escaping.

His friends were not far behind him piling into the van one after another with more bags of money. Before they could even close the door behind them, we were dipping through traffic. Spaz in the van bed with me, the other two sitting in the seats of the van.

“What the FUCK was that” the leader growled at spaz. He was driving.

Spaz chuckled. “Man everything is fine. We got the money. “ He looked as me with a grin that sent shivers up my spine. “And a little something extra.”

He pushed a loose strand of hair out of my face, and got uncomfortably close. I squirmed away making a weird noise that made the leader look in his rear view, locking eyes with me holding the same look behind his eyes he had in the bank. It almost seemed like … concern. But I couldn’t believe that. As if a bank robber gave a single fuck about some plain girl. I shook the thought off after realizing I had been staring back at him with a confusing look on my face.

“FUCK RED WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING !” The third guy yells as he leans over to steer for the leader. I noted his name and wondered why he was called Red. I could see why Spaz was … Spaz.

I chucked to myself softly. And Spaz grew an angry look on his face.

“What’s so funny sweetheart?” He said, menacingly, leaning in.

Red looked back in the rear view at me again, much quicker this time.

It got really quiet and it seemed like everyone was waiting for me to answer even tho I assumed it was rhetorical.

“Nothing.” I said meekly and I saw a flicker of curiosity appear on Reds face.

He shook it off quickly as his eyes immediately grew cold and dark and I wondered if the masks were making me imagine things.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Red said more calmly this time. “We can’t have a fucking witness. You never THINK, you know, that’s your fucking problem !”

And I wondered if I had misinterpreted concern for sadness. Was he planning to kill me now? Was he just upset that an innocent person was going to die ?

“I promise I swear on my fucking life I’ll forget all this happened if you just let me go.”

The third guy who’s name I still hadn’t learned started laughing hysterically, only calming down when Red gave him a look I couldn’t see.

“… what? It’s funny. She thinks we’re gunna kill her.”

I feel my face get red hot and I glance at the dirty floor of the van.

Spaz chuckles as we pull into a parking garage and swing open the sliding van door before we even stop moving. We park sloppily next to two silver BMWs.

I remember the rule about never going to a second location and how it’s better to fight and die, than go wherever bad people take you. I make a quick decision and bolt as we come to a stop. Spaz barely takes two steps before he’s caught up to me and dragging me back to the cars kicking and hollering muffled moans under his hand that covered my mouth. He plopped me in the backseat of the one of the beamers, after gaining control of my flailing limbs, finally showing some annoyance with my tenacity.

As he grunts out of frustration and turns around, Red grabs him by his shirt and twists him around slamming him into the van. The third man is swiftly transporting bags into the trunks of both BMW’s.

They exchange heated words and Red says something that makes Spaz throw his hands up in surrender. He walks arrogantly over to the car that I’m not in and piles in it with the third robber. Spaz reverses the car and leaves the garage faster than I’ve ever seen anyone pull out of a spot and I realize that means I’ll be with Red. Alone.

My stomach felt like an electric shock when I realized, although I wasn’t sure why. Red quickly gets in to the car with a frustrated sigh, and pulls out just as quickly as Spaz and we’re back on the road in no time, going a completely separate direction.

#my story #Red #Spaz #bank robbery #my writing #story I’m working on.#part 1 was like 2 weeks ago lol #sorry it’s taken me so long #cnc daddy #daddy’s babygirl #daddy’s brat #love #fantasy #obsessive daydreaming

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hologramcowboy · 1 month

Note

I just need to vent for a second.

More and more I'm thankful for the blogs who are not afraid to call out something problematic that Jensen Ackles says or does. I'm not looking to pile on the guy. We're all human, but when someone says something that isn't right, as a society we tend to call it out for what it is: racism, sexism, homophobia, or just plain wrong. That church abuse joke, the Brendan Fraser Whale comment, the misogynistic and homophobic comments he's made in the past are all wrong.

Can someone grow and learn to be a better human? Sure. We all do that every single day as time passes. I like to think that Jensen has grown quite a bit in some areas and has learned. But those two recent "jokes" were not okay. One is incredibly fatphobic and fat-shaming while the other is literally disregarding the hundreds of victims who suffered sexual abuse in the Catholic church over decades. Do I think that he stood there both times and thought of the bigger picture? No. I think he just said what came to mind because they're both funny to him so they should be funny to his AA's. But I think what flabbergasts me is that they were! There are still AA's traversing this site and other social media that are defending them, particularly the church joke. Saying that if we call it out for the problematic statement that it was, if we don't immediately laugh, then we're not true fans of Jensen, we don't understand his humor, there's something wrong with us, we're just looking to hate on him, and all that crap. And it's like, no, there is something wrong with YOU if you find that funny and then would even defend that. Why is it that common sense continues to elude AA's when it comes to the topic of Jensen? Is he an attractive guy? Yes. Does he seem like the perfectly wrapped package for some? Sure. Are some of these same people obsessed with him? Yep. But that shouldn't completely eradicate common sense and empathy (I'm being kind here). Can you imagine having suffered sexual abuse or knowing someone who had and hearing that had you been in that room or watched the video? Can you (general you) imagine how you would feel?

I just don't get it. The thing is, I don't hate Jensen, I don't want to pick him apart just because, I used to have massive respect for him actually until the last few years, starting with that whole "bitch Alba" machismo crap of a podcast interview (proving some of that good ol' boy misogyny is still alive and well, but well hidden). And these last two instances have left me even more disappointed but sad to say, I'm not surprised. Shocked, yes, but not surprised. I don't wish him ill and I do still hope for the best for him, personally and professionally, but he's a celebrity, an actor, another human being on the planet subject to the same laws of physics and the universe as everyone else. He may have more money than some, fame, and however much of a following on social media, but underneath all that, he's just a man, another human like any other. Born to parents like other humans, grew up and went to school like other kids, started a career like other people after school ended, got married like other people do, had kids like other people do, and on and on and on. He literally gets up every day and puts on his pants the same way as many other people on the planet do every single day. He's not this messiah-like figure for crying out loud who is above everyone else. So why do they act like he is? Why can't they see the forest for the trees? You can be a fan of his and still have common sense and live on planet Earth.

His stanbase really needs a fucking reality check. Had Jared said that, he'd be in deep shit. Had Misha or Danneel said that (and I am no fan of theirs), they'd be in trouble. Had Henry Cavil or Tom Cruise made that joke? Forget it. Canceled. Hell, if Trump or Biden made that joke, oof. So why would his stanbase not hesitate to call out any of those people had they made that problematic joke but when Jensen does it, suddenly the calling out process starts and we are immediately gaslit and made to feel ashamed for calling it out? By these very same people?

I know the answer but I just had to get this off my chest and I figured you would have the most understanding seeing as you've dealt with his stanbase time and time again. Thank you for letting me vent.

Anon 🧡🧡🧡 You expressed something I feel too and you did it with so much clarity, in a grounded, balanced, beautiful way. Thank you!

It's truly creepy how distorted views become when AA's are driven by lust blindly.

I think the most heartbreaking thing in all of this is: that Jensen is buying his own hype and thinks he is above everything so he makes such jokes and feels entitled to approval. He is letting the overblown image they created be his self image and is, in many ways, just as blind as they are. This worries because it's very easy to lose balance and do stupid things when we become wrapped up in a false sense of self. I really wish Jensen had good rolemodel around him because I truly believe that if he did he would make an amazing leader. 😳

I deeply loved reading your thoughts on the way Jensen is perceived so thank you for sharing. 🧡

#jensen critical #anti aas #anti fanaticism

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seoz-seoz · 1 year

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Here are my favorites from this last year 😗✌️

I like each of these for a different reason, they all have different things I'm proud of, like how i drew obito's soft gaze in the snuggling one, the tattoo design on sai, the creativity in the halloween costume drawing, how i think i captured gai's smile, etc etc.

Brain dump ahead:

Wow another year lived. It’s been.. a year. Well I got back into naruto again after one random week when I was super sick and i decided to binge watch all of shippuden except the end part, if I don't see it then its not real and it cant hurt me /j. After that ofc i got seriously insanely fucking obsessed. Mostly with obito. and also kakashi/kkob.. and rin/obkkrin... and a bunch of other characters and ships. but mostly. obito.

I've grown as an artist since I started drawing in this fandom again. My autistic powers of hyperfixation have allowed me to draw all the fucking time. Bc of that I've learned lots of new techniques and skills and have improved all around. I still struggle a lot with my self esteem and imposter syndrome as an artist, so I'm not always happy with what I make and where I'm at. But I am growing, and at least I’m proud of the parts of these drawings I mentioned.

Most importantly,I want to mention that I'm grateful for my followers, my mutuals, and all those who engage with my art. I do read the tags and I'm always grateful for the ones that are funny or kind or just plain keysmashes. 💕

To my mutuals- thank you for being so kind and hilarious and supportive to me. Especially in these last months which have been very hard for me physically and mentally. You all always manage to make my day a little brighter. It really means a lot. Sending everyone (not just my mutuals!!) some joy, love, and strength to get through this next year. (I thought about tagging my mutuals, but then i realized im afraid I'll forget someone and I'd feel awful for that)

Here's to 2023, and hoping that this year: 1. everyone's overall health improves as much as possible, 2. i get to keep drawing as often as i can, 3. bigots get curb-stomped and then decide to change their views and be better people /hj, 4. capitalism is dismantled, and 5. everyone gets at least one wish come true. No I’m not hoping for too much. I’ll do my best to make sure these hopes become reality.

Happy 2023 🥳✌️🧡 -seoz

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 8 months

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Breaking down the comics: Who tells the story (Issue 27)

Moon Knight, Issue #27: Cop Killer!

Opening strong here. I adore any time they do a sky type view down on the city and the characters.

So opening on Moon Knight watching Jake drive his cab at night is just wonderful.

....Does that sign on the side say Steven Grant is the writer?

Let's see what Mr. Grant is writing.

"August in New York. I hate it. Mostly I hate the heat. That sticky, damp heat that soaks you to the bone and oozes back out your pores. Some August nighs, murder is just another way for people to forget the heat.

This was going to be one of those nights.

On each of the last six muggy nights, a cop had been killed. Same M.O. in each case. Same markings on the bullets. Too bad no one could find the gun--or any other clues.

It was a sure bet that the killing hadn't stopped. I --Or rather, cabbie Jake Lockley--was wondering if we couldn't find a way to stop it.

Oh yeah. They call me Steven Grant. Me and Lockley, we're Moon Knight."

HOLY SHIT PEOPLE WE HAVE A GRANT STORY TEAM UP WITH JAKE.

(And let's not forget that Steven later goes on to become a director for Spetor studios in Lemier's run. I am excited people.)

"One Edge Lockley has over me or Moon Knight--When we need information, he's got the connections."

Why Steven, you are being generous today.

We see Jake in his cab pull up to a taxi waiting zone.

A cop named Richardson is there waiting and Jake calls out to him with corney jokes.

"Hey! Richardson! What's the going price for a cop these days?"

"Two years we've known each other, Lockley, two years you've been using that same lousy Joke."

That's my boy Jake alright.

Richardson is reading the paper with the headlines about a cop killer being on the loose.

Jake doesn't like that the cop killer is getting so much press. Neither does Richardson, but the commissioner is making noise to get the killer caught before the copycats start in.

Jake remarks that it's funny how the killer only picks out the Plain clothed cops and not the ones in uniform.

"You'd think he'd find easier targets, like uniforms. Must make you nervous, huh?" Jake jabs, considering Richardson is in plain clothes.

Richardson agrees that it does bother him quite a lot.

"Like...How the heck does he spot a plain clothes cop? F'r'instance, who could tell from looking which of us was the crimefighter?"

"Boy! Nobody, I'd think. Maybe you got something there, Richarson."

Ah, comic humor.

Richardson heads back to work, telling Jake to be careful out there too. It's dangerous being a cabbie.

"Richardson had tried to not tell Lockley anything, but he told him enough. It was clear the cops knew more than we did. I wondered what Moon Knight could do with their information."

GUNFIRE!

"The shot came from just around the corner. Richardson had gone that way."

Jake runs towards the sound.

"In my gut, the part of us that was Marc Spector, the ex-soldier, knew what had happened. He had known that gut feeling in more wars than he could count.

Spector knew how fate worked. Spector wouldn't have joked about these things. Spector would have known better.

There are times I wish I hadn't put Spector away.

Then again, Spector would have laughed this off. Lockley and I just felt sick.

We shouldn't have left the scene, but the cops would have a field day investigating Lockley. His trail would lead them straight to Moon Knight."

OKAY. There is a LOT going on right here.

First, Jake makes friends so easily. Everyone is first and foremost a buddy. He’s the friendly man of New York and he knows how to get people chatting.

Second, they talk about how Moon Knight might know how to use the information Lockley gathers. Another key indicator that Moon Knight is seen as his own separate person now.

Jake, Steven, and Moon Knight seem to have come to an understanding and are starting to actually work as a functional system. This is pretty big news!

It also shows that they have sorted out roles.

Finally, we can’t overlook the way Steven talks about Marc. He addresses the fact that Marc knows how things like this work. Marc expects death and ill-fate. He also addresses that Marc has faced a LOT of death and loss. So much so that he not only expects it, but he has learned to laugh it off as a defense mechanism.

And the BIGGEST thing here: There are times I wish I hadn't put Spector away.

I’m standing in a room pointing at this and screaming. Steven has accepted the role as gatekeeper. He has also deemed Marc not fit to run the body and ‘put him away’. Time and time again they try to remove Marc from their lives. Marc tries to remove himself from their lives. Steven takes the life from him and refuses to let Marc touch it. Jake will even often fight Marc out of front seat to prevent Marc from doing what Marc does.

At this point, they all feel that Marc is not something they feel is healthy in their lives right now. Marlene hates him. Marc is self destructive. Jake and Steven feel that Marc is too violent and causes them pain and strife. With Moon Knight acting as the one that can fight, Steven keeping watch on the body and life, and Jake acting as an emotional grounder and spiritual guide, Marc is just not something they need right now. Or so they think.

ANYWAYS. Back to the story.

Jake heads home.

"I called the cops from a pay phone, then beat it back to my mansion on Long Island. All the way I could hear Spector begging to get out.

He wanted the killer's blood. Lord help me, I wanted it, too."

Jake’s friend just died. Jake is obviously upset. Marc does not do well when people close to him are hurt. Even if he doesn’t always get along, if something happens to Jake or Steven, Marc is going to want to hurt someone.

The second Jake walks through the door to the mansion, Steven takes charge.

He looks for Marlene, possibly wanting some sort of comfort.

There's a fight going on inside their head and they are in pain.

Marlene: "Well, well. My favorite schizophrenic. Can't be Moon Knight-You're not dressed for it! WHo are you today. Steven? Jake Lockley? Marc Spector?"

(NOTE: I had to grit my teeth SO hard at this part. We have entered the era where the Moon Knight system is often going to be called Schizophrenic. Remember everyone, this was written in 1982. Multiple Personality Disorder didn't get an officially recognized diagnosis until 1980. It was often thought of, along with MANY mental illnesses, to be a form of schizophrenia. Prior to that, in 1968 it was listed under 'hysterical neurosis'. It was often thought of as "making up people". It wasn't till 1980 that the term Dissociative was even considered a class of disorders and not at all hashed out. The term was changed to DID in 1994 but was still not fairly fleshed out and still often thought of as just an amnesiac state of the ego. It wasn't till 2013 when the DSM-5 came out that things got updated to current accepted terms and definitions of dissociation. THERE IS GOING TO BE A LOT OF UNFAIR USE OF THE TERM SCHIZOPHRENIA. THIS HAS BEEN A WARNING. It’s also going to paint Marlene is a REALLY REALLY bad light. I’m going to try to give her the benefit of the doubt but fuck is it going to be hard when she outright starts being abusive towards them at times.)

Marlene takes a playful jab. I don't know... Maybe this is her way of trying? Maybe she's trying to make it a game?

It does not come off well.

Steven is not amused.

"Not Spector! NEVER Spector! This is MY home! I don't want HIM here!"

Keep in mind that Steven admitted that Marc was worked up and wanted blood. Steven has been holding him off since they found their friend dead in the street.

It's honestly probably gotten loud in there. Marc demanding to get out and DO something about it while Jake is in pain and sad about his lost friend.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to yell. A man...A Friend...Was killed tonight. Cop. I was thirty feet away. I couldn't stop it. Didn't even know it was happening until it was over."

Steven is struggling to handle things inside.

Marlene: "What are you going to do about it?"

Steven: "Me? Nothing of course. We know what Spector would do--Grab a machine gun and start cutting down suspects until he found the right one!"

Marlene: "Moon Knight?"

Steven: "Moon Knight."

He tells Frenchie to get ready. He wants Moon Knight out there doing something.

Moon Knight heads to the police precinct.

It's a hot night in New York and this makes people dangerous. The cops are overworked and understaffed.

We see a chaotic station of cops asking for backup, dangerous criminals starting a fight in the office, and one cop who claims to be a transfer but no one can find his paperwork.

As the Sargent tries to figure out the paperwork on the new guy, Mondnacht, the fight gets serious and he has to run out to help.

The new guy is left alone in the Sargent's office to start looking through files.

Mondnacht.... Mond-nacht. REALLY? Moon-night.

"'Pt. Mondnacht' had a whole strategy for getting into police headquarters--and didn't need it. Life's like that. Not that it mattered. Moon Knight had what he wanted."

Moon Knight now has a list of the duty roster.

"The plan smacked of Spector, but it was a good one. Find out which cops were handling the case and read their files. The names were on the pilfered duty roster."

Moon Knight heads to the office of the first name on the list.

"The empty station house seemed full of ghosts to Moon Knight. Like he was one of them. A ghost. Or maybe it was the air. You don't get these feelings in the sunlight.

Or maybe it was me, not Moon Knight. Where do I go when Moon Knight takes over? Or Lockley? Or Spector? Maybe WE'RE the ghosts."

Jumping up and down screaming and pointing people. Look. Look. Steven is starting to ask questions.

Moon Knight breaks into the office by picking a lock. "One more skill gleaned from Spector."

Steven wonders where the skills are learned and who can access them. If Marc has a skill and Moon Knight uses it, is it Marc using his skill? How do they share?

Moon Knight digs through the files and makes a discovery. But he's interrupted!

The detective is not happy to have Moon Knight there.

Moon Knight asks him why there are no suspects listed in the case after so many days and so many dead.

The detective tries to arrest him for interfearing and breaking into the office.

Moon Knight tells him that he's on his side.

"Not on THIS case. This is a departmental matter."

This gets his attention.

"I wanted the cop to keep talking --But from somewhere, Spector screamed, 'Jump him!' Moon Knight only heard Spector."

And there he goes… Jumping out the window again… At least Flint wasn’t there this time. Maybe I should start a ‘jumps out window counter too’.

Moon Knight heads up to the chopter to discuss with Frenchie what he learned.

"Ever hear of the Kingpin?"

Oh shit! We got Wilson Fisk people! Moon Knight has officially made it into the Marvel New York Universe!

"Few people messed with the Kingpin of crime. Fewer lived to talk about it. We had to beat the odds. The files proved that each murdered cop had busted a kingpin operation--and the fat man bore grudges."

You don't just sneak into Kingpin's building. He's got more security than fort knox.

So of course Moon Knight....

Right through the window…

Well, at least Wilson is blunt about it.

Moon Knight takes out all the goons and demands answers from Fisk.

Fisk tells him that he bought the cops and had the cases they were working on dropped.

Moon Knight is pretty upset, declaring that one of the cops was his friend and couldn't possibly be corrupt.

Fisk doesn't care. He knows where his money goes.

"My reputation for violence is useful....But there are cleaner methods of dealing with people. MOST men have their prices. I can meet most prices. Your friend and his fellow officers had their prices."

And Moon Knight makes a rooky mistake. He lets Kingpin get up close to him.

Everyone always assumes that the fat man is just money and blubber.

Everyone always forgets just how freakishly powerful Kingpin really is.

It takes one solid punch from fisk to knock him out cold.

Luckily, Fisk has more ideas than killing.

He tells his goons to set Moon Knight free up on the roof. He wants his contacts at the station to give Moon Knight everything he needs to solve the case.

The cop killer is killing HIS bought cops and he wants the killings to end.

"Though woozy, Moon Knight heard everything. He feigned unconsciousness as they dragged him up the stairs."

The thugs drag Moon Knight to the roof.

"Spector clicked in. He didn't like being knocked around--And he was ready to take it out on anyone."

He springs up and knocks around the thugs a bit before heading to the copter and taking off.

Meanwhile, the two sargents Moon Knight was looking into have also just seen the Kingpin.

They have their orders and are on their way to carry them out.

As they head out, another car speeds past them at top knotch.

They call for backup as they give chase.

Moon Knight and Frenchie catch their radio signal in the chopper.

Frenchie asks if they should get involved.

"Sounds like routine business. We have better things to do."

Steven: "Moon Knight voiced Spector's thoughts. I wanted to get involved. For all his skill, Spector can be so bloody blind."

We see the Sargents corner the speeding car. They recognize the driver. Just as they are about to ask why he's speeding around so fast, he pulls a gun on them and opens fire.

The suspect yells "I know what you're doing and I know where you've been!" as he fires.

So he has been gunning down the crooked cops working for Kingpin.

One cop is dead, the other frantically calls for help on the radio.

Moon Knight picks up the signal and they rush over in the chopper.

Moon Knight arrives too late to stop it.

Moon Knight arrives as the one cop tries to warn him. He manages to get out “Looey”, but it all sounds like gibberish.

The suspect comes from behind and pulls his gun on Moon Knight.

"I only want the bad ones. Not you. Investigations don't stop them. Commissions don't stop them. When a cop turns bad, nobody's safe! You know what I mean! I never hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it!"

As the man rants, Moon Knight quietly reaches for his truncheon under his cape.

He's too late! When he turns around, the suspect is gone.

"Moon Knight had failed to stop the killer -- And deep inside, we weren't sure now we wanted to."

The killer is going after crooked cops working for kingpin.

Before he can think about it, the police show up. Moon Knight makes a break for it and the cops prepare to open fire.

A Sargent steps in and tells them all to hold their fire.

"He has it on good authority that Moon Knight's not our man!"

And an old partner shows up late, claiming he was stuck in traffic.

Now, if I know my Moon Knight crime comics, I'm willing to bet one of these men is the killer. Let's see if I'm right.

Back at headquarters, we see the old partner returning. He's there to fill out paperwork and Moon Knight follows.

"Don't turn around, De Rais! You gave me a break--and I'm giving you one! I know your secret--and I sympathize. I know what it's like to do evil in the name of good!"

Moon Knight explains that he knew the matters were a departmental matter, leading him to believe it was a cop that was the killer. He also theorizes that Looey meant Lieutenant, which is what De Rais is.

He warns him that Kingpin has a man inside the investigation. Since it isn't him, that leaves the Sargent.

He tells him that the killing must stop. "Stop now, before you're caught -- Or you mke me come after you!"

And Moon Knight leaves him.

Of course the guy figures his next move is to take care of the Sargent and then worry about Moon Knight later.

Steven is...Idealistic.

"That was supposed to be the end of it. Time would pass and people would forget and the case would go unsolved, like the Jack the Ripper killings. It was clear when I returned to my mansion that it wouldn't work that way."

Marlene can't believe that they let the killer go.

"He's not a mad dog, Marlene--And his victims deserved what they got! I found that out!"

"His motives don't matter! He's still a killer!"

"You forget--So am I!"

Marc is still angry and fighting for a say in it all. Steven puts the reigns back on him, but Marc is still pretty upset.

I find it funny that Steven KNOWS Marc used to box, and when he’s angry and struggling with Marc, he always goes to the punching bag to work out the angry Marc energy.

We see the sargent return to his home across town. It's a lavish apartment that far exceeds a police officer's payrole.

He finds an envelope of cash on his table and gets a phone call. He has orders to take out his partner, permanently.

Sargent calls his old partner, asking to meet him at his place.

Both men are setting a trap.

Steven tries to call De Rais but gets no answer. He worries that De Rais is going after the Sargent.

While looking up the Sargent's number, Marlene takes pause. The Sargent's full name is Louis Fulcanelli. LOOEY!

So is it the Sargent or is it the lieutenant??

Spector wants to go seek out the Sargent's home. Moon Knight decides to head to De Rais's place.

For once, Moon Knight takes the lead.

The two cops meet up and Sargent gets the upper hand, holding De Rais at gun point.

It's all laid out on the table now. Sargent Louie is the cop killer and De Rais is working for Kingpin.

They argue on who is in the right. De Rais gets the upper hand and takes a shot, hitting Sargent in the shoulder.

Look at that dramatic entrance. He’s always gotta make an entrance and an exit.

Sargent cheers that Moon Knight is on his side.

"We can work together! CLean up the department for good..."

Moon Knight turns to Sargent. He tells him that after a trip to the hospital for the gunshot wound, he's going to jail.

"You're a killer...As Bad in your way as the men you've killed... And I have to be better than that!" Moon Knight kicks away the gun and calls the police.

We jump ahead to a fancy restaurant where Steven is dining with Marlene.

She asks what happened with Sargent.

Steven tells her that he was put away under psychiatric observation, though he believes that in a way he is saner than a lot of people and in a way, a good man.

"You did the right thing, Steven."

"Too bad the right thing isn't always the decent thing. Well, I can live with that. And if Marc Spector would ever accept it--He might become a whole man again."

And we end on glasses of wine clinking.

OKAY. There was a lot in this comic. Like..A LOT.

Steven narrating (And this is big because we don’t get a lot of Steven’s perspective in the old runs, much less in current runs where half the time they forget Steven exists!), Jake being the good buddy he is and losing friends despite it all, and Marc fighting with Steven and Moon Knight.

We get Moon Knight acting on his own, but also under heavy influence from Steven and Marc. Moon Knight is a really special case and I’d need to do more research into alter roles and presentation to really speculate what sort of person he is. He’s his own person, but sometimes he seems to act under heavy direction from the others. And I have my suspicions but I don’t feel it’s my place to do a full call out.

We also have another moral decision on their hands. The choice they were forced to make with Stained Glass Scarlet still weighs heavily on them and not all of them are in agreement that it was the right choice. It haunts them and will continue to do so for a long time.

Being faced with a killer who is trying to clean up a corrupt department of cops, and the corrupt cops…. The system is at odds on what to do.

And Steven Grant chooses what he views as the high road. He strives to be better than Marc Spector. He feels like he and Moon Knight and Jake HAVE to be better than Marc, or it was all for not. Sometimes this leads them to go against Marc just to be contrary. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.

We see Marc argue to do things that could have saved some of the cops, but we also see Marc argue to do some things that lead to deaths.

Steven is taking the role of Gate Keeper and in his eyes, this means keeping Marc out. He views Marc as a threat to their very wellbeing. Unfortunately, this is also causing strife in the system and inter-system arguments and fights for control.

We also start to see Steven view Marc as a wounded man that needs to be corrected and healed. He starts to get notions that if Marc can see and start to act in a more just manner without his temper and urge to hurt those that hurt them, then maybe they can heal and become overall a single better person.

We see what is often seen as a huge controversial problem solve of “Final Fusion” when it comes to DID. I’m not going to get into that. I have my own opinions on it, but it isn’t my place to discuss them without someone that actually has any say on it present.

Steven believes that Marc can go away and they can start to live as one man that can act justly. He sees Marc as “THE PROBLEM”. And this is going to cause further issues in their system that is just starting to figure itself out.

We’ll see more of this start to pop up later on.

Pretty excited about this issue! Hope you liked it!

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight comics #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Marlene Alraune #Moon Knight system is a fine system #I love friendly neighborhood Jake #Steven is so judgy #Marc just wants to punch things #Sometimes I wonder if Marc tries to be overall protector and just does it wrong #He hates when something hurts them #He wanted to protect Jake #But he's also so destructive that Steven sees him as persecutor #Their early dynamics are SO interesting #I could go on forever

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