#im definitely gonna go back and read my own fic in a couple months when the stress of finishing it in time isnt so fresh in my mind

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺 the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?

Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.

Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.

“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.

Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.

You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”

Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.

There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.

“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”

“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.

“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.

“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”

“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.

“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.

“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.

“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”

“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”

“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”

“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”

“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.

“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.

Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.

“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.

“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.

“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!

“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”

“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.

“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.

“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.

“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.

“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.

“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.

“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”

“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.

“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.

“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.

“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”

“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.

“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”

They stay silent and you know you were right.

“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”

“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.

“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”

Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.

Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.

The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.

“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.

“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.

“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.

“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”

“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.

Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.

“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.

You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.

You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.

Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.

“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”

Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.

It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.

Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.

“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.

You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.

“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.

“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.

“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.

“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”

“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”

“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.

“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”

“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.

“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.

“See?” she smiles warmly.

“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”

“Harry Styles.”

You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.

“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”

Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.

“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”

“You and Harry?”

“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.” “Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.

“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”

“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”

“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”

“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.

Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.

Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they���ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.

Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.

“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”

“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.

“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”

One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.

Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.

Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.

Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.

“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.

“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.

“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.

“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.

“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”

“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.

The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”

You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.

“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.

“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.

“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.

“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”

“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.

“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.

“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.

“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”

“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.

“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”

“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”

“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”

You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”

“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”

“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.” Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.

“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”

“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.

“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”

“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.

“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”

“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.

“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.

“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”

“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”

You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.

The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.

“I would… love to work on a song with you.”

When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.

You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.

You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.

The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.

“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?

However, Harry can see right through you.

“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.” “Harry, no need, I—“ “No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.

“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”

“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”

“What?”

“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”

“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.

“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”

It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.

“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.

“You guys still talk?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.

“You miss being with the band?”

“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”

“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.

“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”

You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.

“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”

“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.

“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”

Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.

“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.

“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.

“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”

“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.

“It’s… a long story.”

“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”

Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.

“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”

Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.

“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.

“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.

“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

 The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.

Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.

“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.

“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”

“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.

“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”

“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”

“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”

“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”

“Are you gonna smoke?”

“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”

“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”

Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.

You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.

“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”

“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”

“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”

“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.

“Did he ever stop?”

“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”

You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.

“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.

“What?”

His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.

“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.

You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.

“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.

“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.

“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.

“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.

“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.

“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”

“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.

With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.

When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.

“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.

“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.

Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.

“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.

“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.

“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck.  “This feels so nice.”

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”

“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”

“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.

You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.

“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”

“Which one?”

“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”

You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.

“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”

“What was the name of the song?”

“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”

The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.

“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”

“No,” you shake your head.

“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”

“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.

“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”

“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”

“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.

“You could say that,” you nod into the water.

“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.

“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.

“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.

“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.

“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”

“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.

“Damn right,” he smirks.

And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.

The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.

“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.

“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.

“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”

“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.

The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.

You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.

You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.

“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.

“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.

“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.

Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.

“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.

“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”

You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.

When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.

You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.

The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.

In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.

You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.

Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.

Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.

“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“

“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.

“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.

“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.

“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.

“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.

“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.

“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.

“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.

“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.

“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.

“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.

You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.

As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.

“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.

“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”

“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”

He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.

“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”

“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”

“What did he do this time?”

“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.

“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”

“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”

Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.

“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.

“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”

“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”

“Shoot it.”

“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”

“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.

“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”

“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.

“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.

“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”

 An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.

“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.

“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.

“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.

“You’re a fan?”

“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.

“You need to perform it for me.”

“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”

“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”

“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.

You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.

Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx

Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.

“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”

“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”

From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.

“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”

Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.

“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”

He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.

“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”

The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.

“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”

“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.

“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.

When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.

“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”

He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.

You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.

Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.

“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.

“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”

“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.

“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.

“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.

His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.

Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.

Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.

“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.

“Kind of.”

“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”

“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.

“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?

You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.

It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.

Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.

It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.

Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.

Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.

“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.

“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

-

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[ultimatebethylficlist]

Veteran Author of The Month: August 2021

The featured veteran author for August is none other than a co-admin right here at UBFL, @courtneyshortney82 !

Courtneyshortney82 can be found on AO3.

When asked what got her into Bethyl and what the fandom means to her, she said:

My love of Bethyl started with the hug. I was absolutely in love with the thought of the show pairing those two together. Of course a certain show runner decided that we didn’t get that, but I was already in over my head! I hadn’t really explored the fanfic world at that point, but a few years later I was running out of fics for another ship of mine and decided to look and see if anyone had ever written something for Bethyl. The first fic I read was Surprise by @leighj11. I started reading everything she had written and then explored just about every tag I could find and soon all of my bookmarks and read later lists were Bethyl. Bethyl means so much to me. I’ve made some amazing friendships because of this ship. I started talking to @im-immortal because of her fic Most Wanted and now she’s one of my best friends and the person that encouraged me to start writing and the person that reads everything I write as soon as I finish it. I truly didn’t think that I would become so active in the fandom, but now I’m part of the team that runs Ultimate Bethyl Fic List and posting as much as I can.

For her personal fic rec list, she recommends:

Most Wanted by SquishyCool 

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Aireabella 

Surprise by LeighJ

Home isn’t Always A Place by leftmywingshome

Marilyn by wandering_gypsy_feet 

Scrubs & Grease by Piper1016

Call Me Friend But Keep Me Closer by pietromavximoff

between the beginning and the end by sheriffandsteel

Fog on the Windows by thedevilyouknow106

Magnolia by galadrieljones

Summer Hire by veecws

Linger by deerntheheadlights

What Signs Remain by lindentree

Fifty Four Days by LemonStar

Courtneyshortney82′s Works & Personal Thoughts:

In My Blood Summary: Rick Grimes had been either a Deputy Sheriff or a Sheriff since he was 20 years old, so a phone call at 10 p.m. was nothing new. Phone calls like this were part of the reason he now checked the Divorced box when filling out paperwork. But this call was the first to ever make him feel like he had ice coursing through his veins. "Rick, it's T… you're gonna wanna get every man you got to the Greene Farm, but you gotta get to Beth." "How bad is it?" Rick asked T-Dog. Theodore Douglas was Hershel Greene's right hand man and he wouldn't willingly request for the cops to come to the farm if things hadn't gone south. Rick also knew that if T was telling him to get to Beth, it meant the youngest Greene was in danger. "Hershel’s dead - that's all you need to know, man. You promised the old man if this ever happened, you’d protect Beth. So play cop later and get her the fuck outta Georgia!" If T-Dog had been capable of slamming the phone down, Rick was sure he would have. Thoughts: This was my first fic I ever attempted to write and the first I posted. I think this will always be one of my favorites because it was the first time I really put myself out there into an unknown situation. I love my little mob AU world. I can’t wait to finish this fic and take everyone on the journey that I’ve had in my head for the past two years. 

Gracie Summary: It wasn’t just the blonde hair. But those same pale blue eyes, same pale skin—pale skin marred by scars, but still perfect. They’d put her in sweats like they’d done to him, but hers were clean and light pink. Still had that fucking handle on the back for one of those assholes to lead her around. The look on her face was most likely a mirror image of his own. Shock. Trying to figure out if the person in front of them was real or just an effect from being stuck in this place. Thoughts: This one has been such a surprise to me. I still can’t believe the response that I’ve received. I was afraid to even mention this idea that had been swimming around my head, but I threw the idea out there and it went from a fic I might write one day to the fic that I had to get out. It’s quickly becoming my most popular fic and I’m so grateful to everyone that has been reading and responding!

The Perfect Gift Summary: Convincing Merle to join them to pick out a tree had been easy. She offered him dinner and a new bottle of Jack Daniel’s if he would help Daryl get the tree loaded on the truck and set up in the house. She also planned to get him in on the decorating, but he didn’t need to know that part yet. Merle was all bad words and crude phrases, but underneath it - when he let down the guard he’d built up - you could find the child that still lived inside of him. Thoughts: My first one shot! This was all about Merle. It definitely has Daryl and Beth, but Merle takes the stage and made me love writing him! I also learned I like to write stories to make people laugh!

Early Arrival Summary: He let go of one thigh to put an arm across her hips, pinning them to the bed, while his other hand went to the back of her thigh and pushed her leg up higher, opening her up wide to him. Beth dug her nails into his scalp and his answering groan vibrated through her. Fuck, she wasn't sure she could get more aroused --but this man was doing amazing things with his tongue and she felt like every nerve in her body was responding. Thoughts: I was always afraid to write smut, but I finally did it! This is my favorite smut I’ve written. I wrote it based on a request from @im-immortal​. I had no idea it would be a certain kink a lot of us shared.

Roots & Wings Summary: There's something about the fresh Montana air early in the morning. Especially in the fall, when there's a bite to the wind. This was Beth's favorite time of the day. Sitting on the wrap-around porch in the rocking chair her granddaddy had made for her grandma when her dad was born, the blanket her mom had crocheted for her wrapped around her shoulders, and a strong black coffee in her hands. The heat of the mug keeping them warm. Thoughts: This was an idea from @raginglittlehurricane​. We both love the show Yellowstone and noticed the parallels between Daryl and Beth and one of the couples on the show. A fic just had to happen. All I can say is - Cowboy Daryl! 

Who Let Dog Out Summary: Opening the door, the answer to one of his questions was answered. The damn dog couldn't be barking in the house because he was sitting outside. On the porch. Looking very pleased with himself. He'd also brought along the leggy blonde with the big blue eyes from across the street. Thoughts: I wrote this for the Ultimate Bethyl Fic List event - Matchmaker Merle. I always intended for it to be a one shot, but I kept getting requests for me to continue it. I also fell in love with this universe and just couldn’t tear myself away from it so now it’s a multi chapter!

[lord-explosion-baku]

Our Love Is God pt. 2

Dabi x Reader

Warnings: mentions of noncon/somnophilia, abortion, dark themes, yandere characteristics, dabi just being a rat tbh

A/N: so like I said that I’d get back to this fic when I got bored or other, more important things were a drag to write and, well, I got bored/other,more important things were a drag to write. TW for talk of abortion. Dabi doesn’t take things lightly and thinks certain things that may make anybody who has had an abortion or has deep feelings about abortion either really guilty or really angry, but that’s not the point. The point of this fic is that he’s a bastard and not a savior. This is pretty short! And yes I plan on writing more, but that’s when I get bored or other, more important things are a drag to write!

Dabi found himself panting when he finally lifted himself up onto your balcony. It had been, what, almost two months since he’d last snuck into your room? Too long, but you hadn’t called him, and he had been busy to see what the hell was up with you. Now he had a couple days to himself, and he couldn’t shake the pestering feeling of wanting to spend them with you.

The door to your balcony was unlocked, thank god; he really didn’t want to have to burn the knob off—why make a reason for you to get pissed at him already? Dabi smirked. You were fucking cute when you were angry, but he wanted his return to be at least a little pleasant.

Unsurprisingly, you were passed out underneath that ugly-ass, pink canopy, snoozing away peacefully and unexpecting. Your bed was built for a princess, but with you sprawled out on your back with your arms splayed apart, your tank-top rising up to expose your soft belly, and your blanket tossed down so only one of your feet were covered, you looked nothing short of a cavewoman. Still hot though, and Dabi missed you.

That was it. Dabi missed you. He never really expected to miss anybody he fucked. He made plenty of girls mad in the past, so when you last kicked him out, it shouldn’t have been any different. He’d gotten used to a routine: sleep with some chick, piss her off, do crime, then forget about her. But since the night you’d kicked him out, he couldn’t get your bratty fucking face out of his damn mind. Was it that you were stubborn? Or was it that you came across as such a lil do-gooder, daddy’s favorite princess and all that bullshit, when you were really just a filthy slut on the inside?

“What is it about you that makes me crazy, baby?” Dabi asked aloud, tracing a finger up from the hemline of your pajama shorts to your bare ribs. He watched goosebumps appear on your tummy and flattened them out with the palm of his hand.

Your only response was a soft snore. Dabi scoffed.

The first time he fucked you, you had been asleep. Or at least, you were asleep when he began. He visited you a couple nights after he and Twice tried to loot your father’s safe. He’d thought you were a cute little shit, and just wanted to see your frightened face again. He climbed in through the balcony and found you asleep in your bed like you were now, only you were laying on your stomach. After sniffing around your room a little, he couldn’t help but crawl into your bed. He wanted to hear you scream, but you stayed asleep, even when Dabi’s hands inevitably started exploring your body.

Dabi couldn’t forget how deliciously wrong it felt to pet your pert little ass while you slept, how exciting it was to rub a knuckle over your clothed slit, how incredibly hot it was for you to cry out when he plunged two fingers into your sopping wet pussy. Yes, you cried, but you also moaned, and Dabi felt you clench around his fingers when he wrapped his free hand around your neck, pulled you back, and whispered to you, “I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna love it, babydoll.”

Dabi made good on that promise that night. You took him so well, and it really didn’t take him all that long to get you to sing for him. You liked being taken advantage of, and Dabi learned that the more aggressive he was with you, the easier it was to make you cum. And oh, baby girl, it was just too easy to make you cum.

He was hard now, and he wanted to fuck you, but he wouldn’t. Even though you snored, there was something peaceful about watching you sleep. Of course, that didn’t stop him from palming your breasts, if only just to see your nipples pop against your tank top.

“Why haven’t you texted, huh? Was I really all that bad to you?” Dabi’s voice was soft against your neck as he placed gentle kisses along your warm flesh. He nuzzled his nose behind your ear and inhaled deeply, taking in the aroma of your washed hair. “You know I could be real good to you if that’s all you want from me…”

Calloused fingers brushed across flowery lips, the vast contrast between him and you burning a hole into his chest. He leaned over to see your mouth part subtly, invitingly. Dabi took the initiative and planted a light kiss on you. He whispered, “there’s no way you haven’t missed me a tiny bit.”

At this, you hummed, and Dabi felt tension melt from his shoulders. That was an affirmation if he’d ever heard one, which gave him permission to run both of his hands down your sides to take their sharpened places at your hips. He pulled you against his hardened groin and let himself grind his strain courteously into you.

“You know how hot you are, babe? You know how much I missed having you wrap around my cock?” God, he wanted you. He wanted to be inside of you. He wanted to kiss you, and mark you, and love you, and-

You let out a little, “uhh,” from the very back of your throat. Dabi could have damn well nearly melted into you from that tiny noise. He could only imagine what squeaks and squeals you had saved up from him when you woke up.

For a moment, he thought that he would break his resolve to not fuck you—you wanted him to anyhow—and honestly, he probably would have, had it not been for your phone lighting up, snapping his attention to your side table. It buzzed twice, which he could have ignored, and then two more times, which made Dabi grab it, reading the I.D. tag, ‘Daddy.’

Dabi scoffed and used your thumb to unlock your phone. He found that it was your father that texted you, asking about a visit to the doctor’s you made. Dabi kicked back on your bed and decided to dive into the depths of your phone, check your social media PM’s, calls you’d made, etcetera.

There were quite a few messages from boys in there. Some of them were coming on to you, others were asking when they’d see you again. Dabi’s jaw clenched when he read those messages, but he was pleased to see that you’d left all those jagoffs on read, even the ones who were more persistent. Dabi would be lying if he said he didn’t go out and sleep with a couple chicks while you were there ignoring him. You couldn’t blame him. He was a man with needs. But he never called them again. None of them mattered like you mattered, and by the look of things, it seemed like you felt the same way.

Dabi checked your photo album, finding nothing more interesting than the racey selfies you took of yourself, probably trying to feel good about yourself (Dabi sent those pictures to his own phone, before deleting the evidence). Then he went to your search history, smirking at the very specific websites you visited.

“You’re absolutely filthy,” he chuckled in the middle of watching a video you seemed to frequently visit. He couldn’t wait to try this out on you—a little make up sex surprise. In response, you turned in bed, throwing your arm around Dabi’s lap, your elbow just a few centimeters from his erection. Dabi frowned down at you, and clicked out of the video, knowing that it was just gonna spur him on. He decided to look back to see what you searched when you’d last saw him—see if you looked up anything close to ‘sex with a villain’ or the like. But he didn’t find that. What he found was weird. What he found made a pit form in the bottom of his stomach.

‘how to deal with heartbreak’ first caught his eye. Dabi thought that this could have been about him but this was about seven weeks after he’d last seen you. As he kept scrolling, it only got worse.

‘depressed after termination’

‘how to stop the pain without taking medications’

‘best ways to clean blood off of linens’

‘discrete doctors near azabu’

‘should i tell the guy im not dating about pregnancy?’

‘is there anything i can eat to not be oregano?’ (Dabi couldn’t even sneer at ‘oregano.’)

‘top 10 signs you are pregnant’

Dabi’s chest constricted. He nearly dropped the phone on your arm, but that would definitely wake you the hell up. “Pregnant?” He whispered out loud. It only made sense. Dabi never wrapped himself up with you like he did with other girls. There was something so fucking dirty about you taking him raw when he knew you didn’t want to. He knew you were clean because you didn’t fuck around—at least, not before him, which made his frown deepen.

Fuck. Despite the unusual shattered feeling Dabi felt deep in the pit of his stomach, he was still so fucking hot for you. He turned you over so that you were on your back again so he could examine your belly. He kissed you below your navel, wondering that if you hadn’t been ‘depressed after termination’ would there already be a little bump there?

There was a brief flash of a little hand pressing against the swollen stomach of a white haired woman, but Dabi quickly shook that memory away.

“Why, babe?” Dabi kissed your stomach again. Seriously, why? Did you think Dabi would be a shit dad? He probably would be! But he’d still be a dad, if he were raising a kid with you. Did you not know that? And it wasn’t like you didn’t have the funds to raise a healthy child with everything it could ever want and more! You were a spoiled brat and you would’ve raised an equally spoiled brat, and Dabi would’ve loved the hell out of the kid! What the fuck?!

Dabi’s mental fit was interrupted from a little bleep! chiming from your phone. It was from Snapchat, of course, because you were a little social media whore. Not even caring how it could look once you woke up, Dabi opened the snap to see a picture of city lights taken from high above with a little tag that read, ‘wish you were here.’ The user who sent it was nicknamed ‘K’ and their username was something indecipherable. Probably just another one of your rich-bitch friends, showing off the view from their penthouse apartment.

Dabi discarded your phone on your bed and brushed his hands through his spiky hair, cursing softly. He decided to leave then. He needed time to think and reflect. He’d have to bring this up to you sooner or later...if not, he’d figure out a way to work himself back into your life. You probably hadn’t called because you were feeling guilty, rightfully so. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to have you anymore. In fact, he wanted you more than ever before.

Jumping out of your window, Dabi decided then and there that he’d be back. He’d make you talk. And he figured that if he could get you pregnant once, he sure as hell could do it again. Easy peasy. He’d have you calling him daddy again in no time.

TAGS FOR EVERYTHING (CLOSED): @ayeputita @yandere-inamorata @dee-madwriter @unboundbnha @rizamendoza808, @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten @rubycubix​ @zellllyyyy​@sarcastictextstuck@kpanime @captain-sin-allmight-queen @psionicsnow@wickedlewicked @ghost-of-todoroki @kattariapenn@im-an-adult-sometimes @bnhya @local-senpai@eggpienutbuttercroissant@usernamekate94 @reyvenclaww @hi-ho-and-hello

[mischiefandi]

My Blog in 2021 <3

Hi everyone!!

I’ll be writing again soon and I wanted to give you guys some information on what I’m gonna be doing on here from now on. There’s gonna be a few changes to how I’ll be handling my blog and my writing which is why I’m making this post so everything makes sense and you know what’s coming <3

everything is below the cut ! ( this is quite a serious post ngl :)

Fandoms

As you’ve probably seen on my blog these past few weeks, I’ve fallen back in love with the Harry Potter universe and I’ve decided I will be writing fanfiction about Harry, Fred Weasley, and the Marauders (Wolfstar content, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, and some Marauders headcanons). I will still be writing for Peter Parker in the MCU fandom and I will also be writing for Drake Walker from the Choices fandom. However, I’ve decided that after I finish my series “A Shitty Love Song” (Stiles Stilinski x Reader), I will officially stop writing for Stiles.

He’s still one of my comfort characters but I don’t feel as inspired anymore and because Teen Wolf ended so long ago now, I just don’t feel the same love for it as I used to. I will definitely still reblog gif sets and shitposts about Teen Wolf!! and I will not stop talking about Stiles on my blog lmao but I won’t be writing about him anymore. I know a lot of people follow me for that, so I apologise if you feel let down or disappointed. 

I really appreciate all the love and the support you guys have been surrounding me with ever since I joined the Teen Wolf fandom, and I still love yall and will gladly discuss the show with you guys!! Thank you for understanding, I really hope you’ll still enjoy my blog and my content!

NSFW Content

Because I was a minor up until last August, I wasn’t comfortable with writing smut or NSFW content. My views on NSFW content on tumblr have changed a lot in the past few months and I have realised that I am now responsible for the content that I decide to share with readers and followers. I am 18 years old and I now feel comfortable writing smut, meaning I will be posting NSFW fics on my blog starting now. However, I would like to make some things clear:

If you are under 18 years old, I ask that you do not interact with my NSFW content. You are allowed to read my other fanfiction and you are allowed to interact with my blog and with me, however, my NSFW content is off limits. I know that this won’t necessarily make sense to everyone, and I know people will be upset, but this is a boundary I will enforce for your own protection as well as my own. I really am sorry if you feel disappointed or feel excluded, but smut is written pornography and there is a reason why the law prohibits minors from interacting with it. 

As a legal adult, I do not feel comfortable supplying minors with sexual content. All minors, including my friends/mutuals, will be blocked if they interact with my NSFW content, so I ask again: please do not interact with my NSFW content if you are under 18, regardless of where you live, where you’re from, and regardless of your past sexual experiences. I will not be making exceptions and this isn’t up for discussion. I really do not want to be rude or act pretentious, but this really is a necessity and I will be taking this seriously.

Like I said, I will now start writing smut, however I will only be writing smut about 18 year olds and above. I do not feel comfortable writing smut about minors, even if they are 16-17. I know that minors engage in sexual behaviour in real life, but like I said, I do not feel comfortable writing about it. I also will not be writing non-con content, nor will I write about incest or dubious consent content. I ask that you please respect my choice.

For the sake of transparency, I will keep tagging the sexual content on my blog as NSFW and I will add it in the warnings above my fanfiction every time. Again, I ask that you respect these boundaries if you are a minor. I also ask that the other adult creators tag my writings as NSFW if they decide to reblog them. Thank you!!

Lastly, because I am 18, I want to say that if you feel uncomfortable with me interacting with your content or talking to you, do not hesitate to tell me and I will respect your own boundaries. Friendships on tumblr are complicated because everyone can stay anonymous while maintaining relationships with each other, which can make some people very uncomfortable, especially minors. I will completely understand if you would rather I stay away from your blog.

What I Read

I love reading people’s fanfiction and I really try to be supportive of my friends and their content however I have realised that there are a few things I see that make me uncomfortable, which is why I have decided to tell you guys that I will not be reading NSFW content about real people anymore. I don’t judge creators that do write about real people, nor do I necessarily disagree with them, I just know that it doesn’t make me feel comfortable anymore so I will not be reading those kinds of fics anymore. I am really sorry if that upsets or disappoints you but I’m not going to force myself to read things that make me feel uneasy haha.

Also, I don’t think I have ever interacted with fanfiction that talks about someone’s real life trauma because it always made me feel extremely uncomfortable, and I don’t intend on starting now so please don’t tag me in content like that! I don’t want to disrespect your work or your writing, but I feel that there are certain boundaries we have to respect as “fans” and romanticising a real person’s personal trauma is just not right in my eyes (Dylan O’Brien’s accident for instance). Yes, this includes past relationships or exes (something I didn’t always respect but now I do).

Speaking of trauma, I would like to specify something. 

I will not, and will never romanticise a character on here who’s personality revolves around his/her/their trauma (yes, even if it’s fictional). It was a big issue with Arvin Russell in the Tom Holland fandom, and it will be an even bigger issue when Cherry comes out. I used to read Mitch Rapp fanfiction, something that I don’t intend on doing anymore, unless it’s soft Mitch who’s resolved his issues haha. If a character’s entire story arc and trauma has turned them into a violent and mentally ill person, it is not something that I want to romanticise or fantasize about. It can be harmful because it reinforces the idea that toxic relationships and/or violence are romantic or sexy things. They aren’t.

What to expect on my blog for the next few months

I will be writing again in two weeks and here is what I’ve got cooking:

I will finish posting A Shitty Love Song

I will be writing a series about Harry Potter and an OC (this is a big project I’m taking on so I won’t be giving more details until I’ve really worked on it)

I will be writing a Fred Weasley series (will include smut so prepare yourselves haha)

I will be writing more Peter Parker one-shots and I might have some series ideas for later down the line

I will be writing more Drake Walker one-shots

I will be finishing writing the song blurb requests I got way back in November (im sorry it’s been so long!!)

I will also be starting a new weekly thing on my blog. I’ll explain the details in a couple of weeks but there will be a taglist so you guys get notified when we play <3

I WILL BE PLANNING A 1.2K FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION WHEN I’M DONE WITH EXAMS I LOVE U GUYS

I realise that this post is insanely long and not exactly fun to read, so if you’ve stuck around till the end, thank you so much!! Please respect the boundaries I have set for my blog and please try to understand where I’m coming from before you do anything haha. I really don’t mean to act all high and mighty or superior to anyone, I’m really not haha, but I do feel responsible for the content I share on here and this is a post I’ve been meaning to make for quite some time now. I love you guys so so so much, thank you for 1.2K followers!! I feel blessed and I am so so so excited to keep creating content for you and for myself. 2021 will be awesome <333333

tagging my mutuals and my forever tag+other posts tag:

News and Other Posts Tag

@stiles-o-dylan24 @duskholland @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @hcomet28 @decaffeinated--fangirl @teen--marvel @cheesecakes-randomshitz

Forever Tag

@stixnstripesworld @masterofbluff @drakewalker04 @superapplepie @apatheticanvas67482

Mutuals

@duskholland @thelittlestkitsune @apatheticanvas67482 @mrscutiefandobhaz @teen--marvel @aquariusholland @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @siriusly-harry @solstilla 

[freshouttaparsnips]

You were a simple kind of guy.

Life decided you deserved a little bit of complexity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a new series of fic that im gonna work on in my spare time!! its a skeletoncest polycule, but with an added reader twist uwu

tags: Reverse Harem, polycule, Poly of Skeletons, Fontcest, Papcest, Sanscest, but there's also a reader, Slice of Life, no real plot, Tropes Babey, Series, Homelessness, Reader is homeless, Reader has a dog, Reader is FtM, reader is unnamed

read it Ao3

or read chapter 1: Meeting the Horror Fellas below!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a simple kind of guy. Sure, you hadn’t meant to make this move over to the Ebbott region, it was actually on the end of the long list of places you wanted to move. But that was where your job had moved you, so that’s where you’d picked up and gone, both you and your boxer pup, Peony. She hadn’t actually minded much; there were lots of dog parks here for her to hang out in, long stretches of sidewalks just around your apartment that definitely went on just long enough for her to get the need to GO out of her system. Your job was cushy, paid enough for you to splurge a little on the weekends, for you and Peony both.

You appreciated the finer sides of living just under a mountain… at least until said mountain damn near exploded and “Monsterkind” came through.

Now, that was not to say you had anything against monsters. Not in the slightest! You weren’t from around here, you understood a little of the general bias that people had against anything new.

But when the monsters had started entering the work force, well. People on the semi-lower rungs like you? Booted to the curb without a second thought in the name of equality. You’d lost your apartment, and Peony and you had been living in your squat little Ford ever since. It was rough, but you’d been saving up to rent a trailer on the outskirts of town for a few months, and your acceptance of monsters had remained, if not hardened a little.

You weren't going to blame them for needing the essentials of living, just the same as everyone else.

Which led to where you were now, warily watching a couple of more rough looking monsters that were chatting up the tiny, blond lady that worked the front counter of the store you’d finally gotten a job at. Peony had been adopted by the owners of the store as a guard dog, the little old couple chattering on and on about how cute she was. It just meant that you were allowed to keep her with you when you were on duty, a little vest velcro’d around her with the name and logo of the store on it.

You were stocking shelves, Peony keeping an eye on the situation just like you were. The two monsters were clearly from a Fellgrounds, a few other mountains nearby that had also opened up to reveal some monster societies that had gone a little sideways. Most of them had scars, war wounds, and generally had a distrust for other people.

You felt for these monsters more than others; they had to go through extensive testing and rehabilitation to even leave their Underground, though a lot of them had passed those tests if the local news was anything to believe. You weren’t really sure what to believe much these days, but you knew that Polly up at the cash register was trans and had already dealt with a few assholes today. Monster or human, you weren’t letting it slide.

Before you could even set down your can to head up, just to make absolutely certain nothing untoward was going on, a shadow passed over you, the lights above flickering in uneasy patterns as you stood stock still. The tallest monster you’d ever seen in person was passing through the next aisle over, their skeletal head nearly scraping the ceiling as they moved silently towards Polly. Something inside of you was terrified at the sheer display of power, the intent of magic thick in the air, but even you with your limited knowledge could tell it wasn’t directed towards her.

The two monsters were staring right at him, your own eyes locked on his lanky form as he made his way silently to the very front and tilted his head. “Evening friends, are you having issues with the cash register working your cards? I had such an issue the other day, I can help walk you through the process.”

There was nothing but primal fear in their eyes as the two monsters meekly shook their heads, jerking a thumb towards the door as they left, citing their sudden need to be elsewhere. The skeleton watched them go with something like satisfaction in his eyes, and it wasn’t until then that you noticed his outfit.

A bright pink and green tracksuit covered him from neck to ankles, and a bright peach exercise band around his head that said “JOG BOY” on it. Something about it made you relax a little from the tense state you’d been in, your hands setting the cans they’d been tightly holding on their respective shelves.

It was then that you noticed that the intent from earlier was gone, and good lord, was all that just from this dude? You watched as he leaned down to see Polly better, his expression one of humble kindness. She seemed to know him, looking relieved, and you couldn’t hear their full conversation so you figured you’d ask her later just what that was all about… and if you needed to take on more shifts to make sure that people, human and monster both, weren’t harassing the workers.

You’d grown to love working at this store, what with the inclusive policies and the fact that they let Peony stay with you on shift, and you weren’t going to see anyone or anything take advantage of it.

Just as you’d turned back to your work, though, momentary worry about your coworkers abated, that intent came back, only this time it felt cold. The skeleton up front’s warning had been hot, blistering to the mind, a sheer warning of pain.

This one felt like someone had dunked you in an ice bath and was threatening to leave you that way.

“You okay there, pal? Yer looking a little white around the edges.”

The voice came from just behind, your eyes squeezing shut before you turned around and glared hard at whatever asshole was trying to start shit… only to find yourself looking at the chest of another really big monster. He was also a skeleton, but he was shorter by a few feet (even as he towered over you). He was dressed more modestly, what with a simple ratty blue jacket and a pair of gray basketball shorts, but he was wearing a small pink bracelet around his wrist. Before you could even try to guess what it meant, he was leaning toward you a little.

“Hey, you okay? Seriously, I didn’t think Paps’ magic was that strong- well. Naw, that’s a lie, it is that strong.”

You blinked, still staring up at him, when suddenly you were grasped between two boney hands, lifted up and up until you were looking into the hollow eyes of the first skeleton… Paps?

“Oh, my dear human, I haven’t broken you, have I? I can admit my intent can come off a bit… excuse the pun, but intense, to those who aren’t used to our magic signature.” Then he was squinting at you, somehow, and you felt as though your very soul was being examined. You could smell the very subtle hint of some kind of fruity cologne, which made you want to laugh hysterically; what skeleton needed to wear perfume?

“He’s probably fine, Paps. We need’a get back before Red takes off.”

“Paps” rolled his eyes, gently depositing you back on the floor where Peony was severely sniffing all over you as if looking for damage, before nodding.

“Yes, I suppose you’re correct. Human!!”

You stood at attention and he laughed, handing you a little, lime colored business card. You took it with questioning hands, peering down at it as he explained.

“This is my phone number. Please text whenever you have time and would like to have lunch, I wish to apologize for putting you through such shock.”

And with that he pat you on the shoulder, seeming not to notice as you buckled a little under the weight and headed for the front doors, the other, shorter skeleton following along behind with a snicker.

You blinked hard, before collapsing to your ass on the floor, Peony licking your face vigorously once she’d found no signs of injury. You patted her gently both to assure her and to keep her out of your face, but stared down at the card, a simple number on it from the local area.

~THE PHONE NUMBER OF THE GREAT ICHOR!~

You blinked back the tears that had been growing, of both frustration and mild fear, and huffed in pain as you made yourself get up off the floor. Polly would be worried about you, and you really needed to finish stacking these cans.

[the-weeping-author]

Trick or Treat Brandon.

A/N: I love Halloween so here’s a Halloween fic it is scary. I hope Im pretty happy with this fic and I hope you all are to, I hope it’s puts you in the scary Halloween spirit.

This fic is for @moonlit-imagines writing challenge

Tag list: @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @linkispink1995 @harringtown @violet-dahlia @gardeniasandwhiskey @lxvesickreality @bluebellbrooke @thenameishayley248 @pappydaddy @simplesammyx @didyouputyournameinthegob @lenassaviorsblog @wolphielautz

Wanrings: 18+, Gore, Blood, cussing, Graphic. So font read it easily scared, squeamish. Might get you paranoid idk 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Wordcount: 4,971

Please enjoy 😊

Steve was sitting on his couch, like usual his parents weren’t home. When Steve saw me he started to clam up, it immediately made my suspicions shoot sky high. He either was up to something or he did something he did without asking me. I guess I was about to find out which one it was.

“Hey Steve how was your day babe?”

Steve looked at me, smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders at me.

“It was okay I just missed you at school today.”

I smiled, I walked over to him.

“Awe baby it’s okay I just had a doctors appointment, but I’ll be there tomorrow.”

I smiled at him, I plopped on the couch beside him. I leaned on his shoulder, he kissed my forehead letting out a sigh.

“So Babe I might as well tell you I told some of our friends we’d go to a party they are throwing on Halloween.”

I lifted my head up off of him, I let out a groan.

“Steve, why would you do that? You know how I feel about your friends. Are Nancy and Johnathan gonna go?”

He looked down at me, shrugged his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his hair, stood up from the couch, walked over to the phone then punched in the numbers.

“Hey Johnathan Y/N was wondering if y’all were going to the party tonight?”

“Oh okay well I’ll tell her. Yeah alright I’ll see you around bye.”

Steve hung the phone up, he turned to look at me.

“Sorry babe they can't, they already had plans.”

“It’s okay I’ll guess I’ll just go for you babe.”

He kissed my lips, then walked to the kitchen. I stood up, walked into the kitchen kissing his lips.

“You owe me Harrington.”

It was finally Halloween, Steve and I had woken up early enough to go get last minute pieces for our costumes. We had a party to go to tonight. It was at an abandoned farm, a couple of our friends were going, so we’re we. Now it was out of town, but Steve and I didn’t mind. Plus it was a weekend so neither one of us was worried about school, or homework. Steve and I were surprising each other with what we were going to be. I was going as Madonna, all I knew told me he was going to look hot. Which I already knew, I mean not that he needed to try to look hot. He was already hot well at least to me, every other girl at Hawkins.

So you can imagine the disappointment the girls had when they found out we were dating. Steve was currently in our bathroom changing, I was in the hallway bathroom changing. I heard footsteps go past the bathroom, stopping right in front of the door then I heard Steve's voice.

“Hey babe I’ll be in the living room when you get ready.”

“Okay Steve I’ll see you in a few.”

I finished my hair, I pulled on my skirt some. I then unlocked the bathroom door, I stepped out into the hallway. I walked into the living room, I saw Steve my eyes widen as the sleeves of his shirt hugged his arms, god it made me wanna hop his bones. I had more self control than that though, but Steve on the other hand his mouth was gaped open. His eyes were looking all around my body, he smiled at me and walked over to me.

“Y/N you look hot.”

My cheeks heated up, Steve kissed my cheek. Steve and I walked out the front door, he locked up, and we were off to the car. Something felt off, but I just shrugged it off. I mean a lot of bad things happened in Hawkins so I had to get used to not feeling completely okay anymore. As we drove closer and closer to the party I felt like we should be heading in the other direction. At the same moment a car sped past us, laid on his horn which made me jump halfway off my seat. Steve had looked at me, put his hand on my thigh.

“Hey Y/N are you okay?”

I looked over at him, nodded my head.

“Yeah Steve I’m fine I just… there’s just a feeling inside of me that we shouldn’t be going to this party.”

“Oh okay princess well if you want to go home we can.”

I looked at him, smiled and shook my head at him.

“No no it’s okay I’m sure I’m just being dramatic.”

He looked at me, raised his eyebrows.

“Are you sure cause I don’t mind turning around.”

“No no Steve it’s okay I promise I’m fine.”

“Okay if you insist Y/N.”

The rest of the car ride was pretty fun, it honestly eased my mind. It was like Steve was my anxiety cure.

I couldn’t ask for a better way to help calm me. When we pulled up to the barn my anxiety was back. The barn was a brick red like it had just been painted. The house was also kept in good condition I mean besides the grass. I’d love to live here with Steve one day but I honestly didn’t want to rush it.

College was in two years, I didn’t want to go to a different college as Steve I wanted us to be with each other. I gripped Steve’s hand tightly, he looked down at me. He smiled, kissed my forehead and I took a deep breath. The farm was beautiful except the grass which looked like it hadn’t been cut in a few months, It just looked abandoned. Steve and I walked into the back yard, we saw The huge corn field. It was really intimidating.

The only people I knew here were Emma, Josh, Tommy H, Carol, Jack, Ashley, Steve and I, but people sure did show up. If I had to guess I would say at least 500 students had showed up. I saw all types of costumes, I was excited but one guy held my attention. He was standing against the drink table, he was just staring at everyone. He wasn’t interacting, but he was probably one of the guys who thought they were too cool to party.

As the night went on the party had died down slowly but surely. Steve and I were slow dancing, he looked down at me, he smiled pushing some of my now deflated hair out of my face.

“I told you, you’d have a fun time Y/N.”

I looked up at him, let out a drunken snort.

“Did you basically just tell me you told me so Harrington?”

He cracked a smile, kissed my lips.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

Steve kissed me again then pulled away, he got close to my ear and raised his voice so he could be heard over the music. I nodded my head. I watched him drunkenly stumble away, after he stumbled a little bit into the corn I felt eyes on me. At first I convinced myself that I was just over reacting, but then the feeling became stronger. Not only did I feel eyes on me but I felt tension. So I turned around and I saw him. It was the same guy who was leaning on the drink table. He was just staring at me. I smiled lightly, waved at him. He turned away from me, he walked into the cornfield.

*Killers pov*

I heard a car door shut, I walked to the side of the window. I barely looked out of it, I saw a group of teenagers walking towards the cornfield. I grabbed my knife, as the last kid went into the cornfield I followed them. They had walked about a mile and a half into the field. When they finally got to the party area I saw four huge speakers around the perimeter, the music was blaring. There were drinks being poured, food being eaten. I watch from behind the corn, I’d figured I’d show these kids how to party.

It took awhile for the other teenagers to separate from one another, I knew who my victims were going to be. A young guy who didn't look any older than 17 wandered off, I quickly followed him. It’s not like anyone knew I was here, I knew the paths in the corn maze because I lived here. I grabbed my knife, while he was peeing I walked up behind him slitting his throat from ear to ear. I watched his lifeless carcass lay there unable to move, I watched the life slowly fade out of his eyes. I drug his body where I knew no one would look.

After I knew his body wouldn’t be recovered I went back to the group, I hid the knife in my hoodie pocket. I walked over to the drink table, that’s when I saw a Y/H/C haired girl with a brown haired boy. The girl was staring at me. She smiled tightly, continuing with their night. Little did they know mine just started and it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. I drank a few drinks, I saw the girl that was with the guy I killed went looking for him. I knew she was going to be my next victim, I didn’t have any remorse about who I killed. I didn’t care who I was taking them from.

I can just say they all were at the wrong place at the wrong time. I had only one goal and that was to kill them all. There was a couple here who I knew would be my last victims, and that was the boy dressed as Han Solo and the girl dressed as Madonna. They looked like they’d be fun to torture, but the only question was which one of them would be my last victim? My focus was back on the girl who was dressed as some work out girl. I snuck up behind her, I covered her mouth stabbing her in the back. I slid the knife out, jammed it back in.

After her body went limp I let her hit the floor, I drug her body further in the shed. I cut off her hands, then I continued to dismember her body. When I was done I cleaned myself off, the knife when I rejoined the party, no one seemed to notice that two of their friends had disappeared. I noticed some of the kids started to leave as it got later, I was honestly relieved when I saw my planned victims still here. So I decided it was officially time to play. I loved playing cat and mouse especially with people who had no idea that they were the mouse.

As the night went on the more teenagers died. I made some of my own Halloween decorations. One kid was my official scarecrow, let’s just say he was definitely going to scare people away. His death was my favorite death so far. The way his neck cracked when I broke it gave me a thrill, the way I felt him struggle against me made my adrenaline race. I wanted more, I needed more and I was far from done. There were only six teenagers left. Four girls and four guys, but I had to be smart about this if I just popped out they could all take me on easily. So I went into the bar, I grabbed the knife. After getting that I circled around to the front of the house where their cars were parked, walked up to their cars digging my knife into all sixteen tires.

Now they were stuck here with me, the best part was they didn’t have a clue. I snuck back to the party, I noticed a couple was missing. I went to the bar, grabbed the Axe that was hanging near the handsaw, pitchfork. I walked out the back of the barn, came face to face with a guy. Before he could even think I swung the axe, his head went flying across the yard, near the huge oak tree. The girl which I’m guessing is his girlfriend came out from the other side of the shed, when she saw her boyfriend's head near the tree she screamed. I quickly walked over to her, punched her in the face striking her left temple.

I drug her body to the root of the three, and start stomping her head on the root. I could hear her teeth break as I stomped, I picked her head up by her hair, and started viciously beating her face against the tree. It was satisfying to hear her nose break. The more I beat her face the more her bones broke. Soon enough as blood trailed from her eyes, mouth, and ears her skull cracked, pieces of Brain went all over the place. At this point I didn’t need to hide the bodies anymore. They couldn't escape even if they tried, I picked up the axe I had, then I put more of the teenagers bodies up as decorations. I cut the guy's eyes out, I used him as a Jack O’lantern. I sat the girl at a table that was in another section of the cornfield.

I guess you could say it was like a maze, but these teenagers were smart. They knew their way in and out of an easy corn maze, but what they weren’t expecting was their friends to be so hands on with the maze. Now all I had to do was lure the last two couples away from my last two victims, I was good to go. I walked into the corn maze, back to the party. I whispered something, the drunk girl turned towards me, I backed up into the corn maze. Of course she followed me, the alcohol made her curious and it got the best of her.

As soon as she stepped into the corn I killed her. As I drug her towards the table with the good China on it I sat her in the chair. Sitting her up as a decoration, I fixed the fingers that I chopped off and put them on a plate, I used the other empty plate for their ears. Now we just needed “tea” to finish the decorations, so that’s what I intended to do next. As I snuck back to the cornfield a guy saw me, I was covered in blood. He immediately took notice. He told his friends, but they didn’t believe him in fact they laughed at him. The guy got mad, walked off.

As he walked off I heard my last two victims talking to my next two.

“Can you believe that guy Tommy?”

“Yeah I know Steve he really thinks we are that stupid to feed into his Halloween prank?”

I didn’t hear the rest cause I walked away. I knew the last two guys' names were Tommy, and Steve. I heard footsteps near me, I turned seeing the guy who had walked off immediately. He hit me, I tasted a rich copper taste in my mouth. I quickly wiped at my lip, struck him in the throat. As he was gasping for air I grabbed his head, I raised my knee slamming his face directly into the center of my knee. The force sent his body back, he was lying on his back. I grabbed his feet, drug him to the same exact spot I did the last girl, but when he started to wake up I punched him in his temple, I opened his mouth, cut out his tongue. I leaned him over the big tea pot, let the blood flow into it.

As soon as I felt his pulse slowing down I dressed him up in overalls, put a straw hat on him. I dressed the other two couples up to match him, I knew it was time to get this over with. I poured the blood in each cup, I put their hands on the tea cups. I walked back to the shed, grabbed a few weapons that would make this process faster, but how they died would still be on my terms. I grabbed the pitchfork, I hid it under some of the hay that was in the maze. After setting the next few traps it was time to reveal myself, I was near the entrance of the party. The first to see me was the girl dressed as Madonna. She grabbed the boy dressed as Han Solo, then he got the attention of the other two. As soon as they all saw me I pulled out the machet.

it took them a minute to figure out why I had a machete, but when they did I could see the panic set in. They split up, I couldn’t have been happier. My focus wasn’t on Steve and the girl, but it was focused on Tommy and his girlfriend. I walked towards them, they ran down the other opening of the maze, well I knew that was going to happen, I followed them. Tommy was running, I just stood there. I knew what was going to happen, sure enough it happened. Tommy had tripped on some fishing line I put up, his face met my pitchfork. His girlfriend let out a scream, I heard the other two calling For her.

“Carol? Carol where are you?”

Carol looked at me, wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Why are you Doing this?”

I smirked at her, I walked slowly towards her.

“Oh carol you think I need a motive? It’s scarier when you don’t have one.”

I smiled at her, she took off. I ran after her though. She was almost close enough to grab. so I pushed her down, but when I turned her around she threw dirt in my face, kneed me in the balls. I immediately dropped, wiped the dirt out of my eyes. As soon as my vision came back I stood up, and was on the hunt. As soon as I turned the corner Carol popped out, smacked me with a wood beam. This little bitch wasn’t going down without a fight, if it was a fight she wanted it was a fight I was going to give her. When she went to swing the beam again I ducked, and stabbed her in the leg.

She let out a scream, I stabbed her in the cheek. As I pulled the knife out she grabbed her cheek, spit blood in my face. I grabbed her by her hair, she was a fighter but she wouldn’t win against me. I brought her back to the shed, I lined her up with the hook that was hanging in the shed, I lifted her up then shoved her body on the hook. She let out a gut wrenching scream, I put the wood chipper under her. I went to look for the other two.

*Readers pov*

I ran with Steve, we hid behind the tractor. I heard Carol scream, I jumped slightly grabbing Steve's hand. Tears had formed in my eyes when I heard her scream. He was touring her. Steve had peaked around the tree, saw him going into the cornfield. Next thing I knew we were heading towards the shed. We saw Carol hanging, my hand flew over my mouth. I couldn’t imagine the pain she was in, Steve and I went over to her, she was limp. When we started trying to get her down she let out a scream. I jumped slightly, Steve was trying to get her to be quiet. As soon as Steve almost got her down the woodchipper turned on.

As soon as Steve had gotten Carol down she struggled and he lost his grips her body went into the woodchipper, blood flew all over me. I closed my eyes as her warm blood flew all over me. As soon as I opened them I saw pieces of her body all over the place. As soon as I went to say something the back of the shed was kicked open, there was the killer. Steve grabbed my hand, ran towards the cars. As soon as we got there we saw the tires were flat. Steve looked at me, I looked towards the house.

“Steve we need to get into the house.”

Steve looked at me, raised his eyebrow.

“Y/N are you crazy that’s the first place he’s going to look.”

I let out a sigh, then looked at Steve.

“Well Steve we don’t really have much of an option now do we?”

He sighed then nodded his head.

“Alright let’s go, quickly so he doesn’t know where we went.”

As we walked up the porch Steve had grabbed the door knob, the door opened. It felt too easy, I was right as soon as we opened the door the killer grabbed me. Steve looked at us both, then put his hands in the air.

“Hey, hey she’s an easy kill you don’t want her. If you want someone who’s going to give you a fight it’s me.”

As soon as Steve had the killer's attention I stomped on his toe, head butted him slamming the side of my head into him, when he let go I faced him, kicked him in the knee cap making him fall. His knee hit the step, his chin hit the top step. Steve and I rushed inside, shut the door. Steve ran into the kitchen, I was right behind him. Steve grabbed a knife, I couldn’t find a weapon. So I grabbed a cast iron skillet. As soon as the killer stepped into the kitchen I swung the skillet with all my might and hit him right in the face.

He stumped back grabbing his nose as it started to bleed. He grabbed the knife that was in his pocket, threw it at me. It hit my leg and it got stuck. I dropped the Iron skillet, quickly pulled out the knife. I let out a scream, I dropped the knife and limped over to the killer. He grabbed my ankle, I turned towards him and lifted up my leg. I swung my leg back, I kicked him right in the jaw. He let go of my leg, I limped up the stairs. When I turned around Steve was behind me, I started down the stairs.

When I got down to them I saw The killer trying to get into the pantry where I assumed Steve was. Let out a scream to get his attention which worked, then he was after me. I hopped up the stairs as fast as I could, I felt him grab at my costume, as soon as I went to get away from him he punched me in the back causing me to fall. He turned me around, I kicked him down the stairs. I scrambled to my feet, I limped down the hallway into a room. I walked into the room, I shut the door. The floorboards would freak the more weight I put on them.

I tried to walk as quietly as I could, but with this leg injury it was nearly impossible. I heard the door knob wiggle, I limped over to the closet. Walking in it but before I could get in it two skeletons fell out the closet, I let out a scream. The door busted open, I whipped around looking face to face with the killer. I took in a deep breath, looked at him.

“If you want me here I am mother fucker get it over with.”

He ran at me, tackled me out the door. We landed on the balcony, he leaned over me wrapping his hands around my throat, I started struggling against him. I saw a piece of the door on the floor, I reached for it but I couldn’t get it. I finally came to grips that I wouldn’t see Steve anymore. I wouldn’t see my little brother, I wouldn’t see my mother. I wouldn’t see another day again. This is how it was going to end and I was fine with it.

As soon as I gave into the idea of death his grip loosen around my throat, I opened my eyes to see him and Steve fighting. All I had to do was look at Steve to get that fighting spirit back, that was because Steve looked like shit. He had blood on running down his lip, his once white sleeve was now soaked red. I grabbed the largest part of the door and it had a rusty nail poking out of it. I picked it up, I swung as hard as I could. I heard a thump then I heard another thump. I walked to the edge of the balcony, I looked down to see the killer laying there. He wasn’t moving, Steve had put his arm around my shoulder, I looked at him then smiled.

“Let’s go home please.”

“Fine by me baby.”

Steve and I walked down the stairs, out the front door I walked to the car, I grabbed my purse out of it. Then I started walking down the driveway when it hit me. The other cars probably had spare tires in them. I looked at Steve, told him they probably had spare tires in the back. We walked back to the cars, I opened Steve’s trunk while he went to find something to get the other cars trunks open. As soon as I turned to get out the car the killer had grabbed my throat and began to choke me. I grabbed my purse, I got my pepper spray out, I sprayed him in the eyes. when he let go I gasped for breath, I grabbed the Jack I stepped out of the car, I hit him in his face with the Jack knocking him out.

When Steve came back he had rope along with a crowbar, I looked at Steve, he looked at the killer on the ground.

“W-what happened?”

I looked at him, took in a breath.

“Well I thought he was dead but apparently not so I knocked him out with the Jack, give me the rope so I can tie him up.”

When he handed me the rope I grabbed the jack to the car and hit him again. I turned him on his stomach, I tied up his arms along with his feet. After an hour or so of Steve opening the trunks and changing the tires. The killer finally came to. He started struggling, I walked over to him and I kicked him in the face.

“Steve I think I saw a gas station down the road when we came here. Drive down there and call the cops.”

He looked at me, he shook his head.

“Y/N I’m not leaving you here with him. What if he gets loose?”

I looked at Steve, I smirked.

“Then the cops will have another body to take to the morgue.”

He nodded then got in the car and started up. He put the car in reverse and took off. I let out a breath of air, I heard him laughing. I walked over to him, I turned him on his back.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

He looked at me, he spit on me. I stood back up, I kicked him in the stomach. He let out a groan, he started laughing again. I got pissed, I stood up and started kicking him. He continued to laugh as I kicked him but he started choking, When he coughed hard He coughed up blood.

“Not so funny now is it?”

He looked at me, he smiled.

I stood back up, I heard Steve pull back up. He got out of the car, looked at me.

“Y/N get away from him.”

“Yeah Y/N get away from me, be a good girl for Steve.”

I kicked him in the face again, just as I went to kick again Steve pulled me away from him.

About fifteen minutes later the police showed up. After they discovered all the bodies they arrested the killer, they started reading him his rights. They took us to the ambulance, I heard one of the officers say his name, I looked at Steve and he nodded at me. I called an officer over, I looked at him.

“Officer did he say why he did that to my friends.”

He looked at me and moved his hat some.

“Well miss Y/L/N Brandon escaped from the mental hospital and it took your friends and you to come here to hit a nerve.”

I nodded my head, I watched him walk back to the squad car. When they were pulling he looked at us smiling, I smiled back and then flicked him off.

“Happy Halloween Brandon.”

Three days after we got out of the hospital Steve and I had got back to his house Steve and I were sitting on the couch snuggled up watching a movie, I kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.”

He smiled at me then looked at me.

“For what?”

I looked at him, shrugged.

“For not leaving me.”

He smiled at me, kissed my lips.

“Y/N you’re the love of my life I couldn’t ever leave you.”

I smiled, I took in a deep breath. We would recover from this but it would take a while, but I knew with Steve by my side that would be completely possible.

A/N: thank you guys for reading this I’m really proud of it. I hope you guys liked it.

[artificialqueens]

My Favourite (Gigi x Nicky) - Mina

A/N: Im sorry it’s been so many queues! The next fic I write is gonna be reallly long and good and yes so I did this in the meantime. Definitely not my best work but I hope you enjoy it anyway :>

Gigi and Nicky have silently competed over the title of Arcelia’s favourite aunt for months now, until they coincidentally have to babysit her at the same time.

Gigi Goode was a reasonable woman. She was reasonable enough through her childhood that her parents declared that she was a gifted child, even though all she did was study and be a good kid in general. She was reasonable enough in high school that she managed to enter the most prestigious University in the country, and secured the valedictorian title since she went into her first class. And of course, Gigi was nothing sort of an unreasonable woman so she made connections everywhere - work, organizations, charity, so on. What mattered was that she made connections to smooth her life. A reasonable woman needed a best friend, someone to call when she felt down or felt giddy, and for her, the best friend came in the form of Jackie Cox. Tall, had an IQ of 148, liked to read psychological books for fun, and most importantly, she had dimples. The Persian was perfect as a best friend, Gigi adored that woman, aspired to be like her, even. She was successful, beautiful, and had a good sense of humor even though people around them didn’t find it funny. 

The brunette had found a reasonable job with a more than reasonable pay, finally could afford the apartment she had aspired to live in since she was a mere high school freshman, and because she was a very reasonable woman, Gigi had planned to hit the club and maybe make out with a guy or girl – she wasn’t picky – because tonight was Friday night and she had made it through a very tough day at work. Some asshole didn’t turn in their report on time and left Gigi reeling because everything had to be delayed. That was fine. It had passed and everything was fine so she was allowed to treat herself to a nice make-out session.

At least until Jackie had called her and asked for her help. “We really can’t miss tonight’s banquet,” she said hurriedly, and Gigi had heard a child crying faintly in the background. “We can’t bring Arcelia because the invitation says no children allowed – “

“And why is that, by the way?” The brunette asked, putting down the tight red dress she was going to wear realising that she wouldn’t be having a make-out session tonight. “Isn’t it your own company?”

Jackie sighed into the phone, Gigi could practically hear the frown on her face. “I know. It’s – it’s ridiculous but Jan’s brother was supposed to go with her but he’s suddenly down with the flu and She refused to go alone. You know how it is.” she sounded so agitated that the brunette couldn’t help but felt pity for her.

“Is Arcie crying?” 

“Yeah,” The Persian woman sounded so tired, and Gigi thanked God profusely that she didn’t have a child yet. “She kind of senses that we’re going to go somewhere? She’s definitely handful.”

The brunette hummed, finally settled on a pretty black sweater after rummaging her closet. “You love her anyway.” She chuckled, fumbling through her purse to find her set of keys.

“Of course. I wouldn’t trade her even for the quietest kid. She – “ Jackie hesitated, “She said she wants a sibling, you know?”

“A sibling?” She had to swallow down her laugh, Jackie could hardly keep track of her wife, let alone two children. 

“Yep,” the older woman simpered, “we aren’t ready, not so soon after adopting. We’re still adjusting to the life of parenthood, you know.”

“I know.”

Gigi was in the elevator when Jackie asked timidly, “You’re coming, right?” She could hear the worry in her voice, the sound of Arcelia squealing echoing through the microphone.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, “Be there in 10.”

“Thanks, Gigi.”

She was behind the wheel less than five minutes later. She truly didn’t mind that he had to babysit Arcie on a Friday night when she was supposed to be hitting on people at the club, Gigi adored that kid. It was starting to get repetitive, anyway, ordering a drink, chatting up the bartender, buying a drink for the most attractive person in the room, dancing, kissing, groping, and then the sweaty and sticky situation she would end up into by the end of the night. Perhaps it wouldn’t be repetitive if she had someone to take care of, someone who cared about her just as much as Gigi cared about them. But so far, she hadn’t found one. The people she went to dates with rarely got a ticket into the second date, because she would find them too boring, too daring, too pessimistic, too enthusiastic, and she was a reasonable woman who needed a reasonable partner, so she shrugged them off her shoulders and went home without looking back. Maybe baby sitting her friends kids gave her a sense of commitment, or maybe she just liked watching Arcelia smile.

She was reasonable. Very reasonable, in fact, that she grinned when Jackie opened her door with a distressed demeanor 10 minutes later. “Hey Jack. Where’s the baby?”

“Inside..”  She answered, chewing on her. Gigi arched her eyebrow. “Hey, I’m going to apologize to you. You’ll forgive me, right?”

The younger woman tilted her head. “Are you not going to the banquet?”

If it was true, it was truly not a big deal for Gigi. Sure, she hadn’t gone to the club because of this but after thinking about it, she would rather soak in the bath up rather than going to a sweaty and sticky place. She had bought a book last week, too, so maybe he could catch up on her reading. Probably not.

Jackie sighed. “We’re still going. But,”

“Spill it. It’s okay.”

The other grimaced, and Gigi started to feel something stirring in her stomach. Definitely not something good. “Jan didn’t know I already called you to babysit,” she started, “so she texted Nicky to come over and she’s already inside with Arcie.”

Oh. Oh.

Gigi didn’t know what to do with the information.

Nicolette Doll, Jan’s best friend and by extension Jackie’s friend, a tall, thin French woman with golden blonde hair and a stupid accent. Gigi didn’t like her, and Nicky certainly didn’t like Gigi much either. They’d met many times, might’ve even been friends a couple years ago perhaps, and she couldn’t pinpoint when exactly they began to despise each other but the animosity was certainly there. Nicky was a bitch, controlling, ambitious and strikingly similar to herself, which the brunette hated her for. The only time they willingly interacted was when Arcie was involved, silently competing over the esteemed title of ‘Arcelia’s favourite aunt’.

Gigi was the favorite aunt because she bought her favourite chocolate milk last week, obviously. Nicky tried her best, she supposed, she wore daisy perfume and did funny voices for the characters in picture books, made macarons for fun, but of course the brunette was much more likeable or else she wouldn’t have been in the running for so long, and what Gigi wouldn’t give to knock her gigantic ego down a few pegs.

She snorted. She wasn’t going to let Nicky snatch up her hard-earned position. Gigi was Arcelia’s favorite aunt and God help her if she ever lost to Nicky fucking Doll. “Cool.” She replied, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I’m still going to babysit her.”

Jackie frowned, eyes clearly expressing her hesitation towards the idea. Gigi couldn’t blame her, really, because the last time they babysat together Arcie had cried so much that Jan had refused to talk to either of them for a week. But that was then, this was now and the brunette was sure that they could handle each other just fine.

“Don’t stress too much about it, Jack,” she grinned reassuringly. “Where’s my favourite niece?”

“She’s your only niece.” The Persian woman replied dryly, opening the door behind her and allowing Gigi to step through. 

Their apartment was warm, a more modern place combined with little family touches that made it feel homey and safe. Normally Gigi would’ve thrown herself over the couch, maybe opened the fridge to check that the couple was still capable of buying food, but when she glanced at the love seat where Nicky sat covering her eyes delicately with her fingers and counting down from ten in that stupid French accent, Gigi didn’t even attempt to conceal her scowl.

“Hey Gigi, it’s been so long!” Jan beamed from the kitchen, a tiny dark haired child hugging her leg as she struggled to tie up her dress one handed “Someone’s been very excited to see you.”

“Hi honey,” Gigi beamed, grabbing Arcelia’s attention as she came running over to her instantly with a squeal. “and here’s my favorite niece in the world! How are you doing, sweetie? I haven’t seen you in a week and look at how much you’ve grown.”

The child giggled, gently tugging on the brunette’s hand. “Aunty Gigi, play with me! Dolly’s counting to ten while we hide my new teddy!” 

Arcelia pointed to a tuft of brown fur sticking out from between some cushions, the tag of what Gigi knew to be a very expensive toy shop poking out as well. Shit, Nicky was pulling out the big guns. Fine, two could play it that game.

“She’s going to grow up spoiled,” Jan complained at the gesture, even though her wife was practically dragging her out the door. “You always buy her things. Why don’t you just have your own children?”

“It’s no fun,” Nicky spoke for the first time, eyes still covered by well manicured fingers. “My own kid requires me actually taking care of them. With Arcie, you two do the taking care and I can do the spoiling.”

The blonde huffed. “Whatever,” then, she kneeled down to speak to her daughter who was still hugging Gigi. “Hey baby, Mommy and Mom are going out now, okay? Be good with your aunts.”

Arcelia grinned, sticking out her tongue playfully. 

Jackie bent down to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Bedtime’s at 9, kiddo. ‘Ahbak. Don’t throw a tantrum when your aunties tell you to go to sleep.”

“I won’t” The child nodded determinedly, hands on her hips. Gigi laughed painfully, she knew from years of babysitting experience that was most definitely a lie.

“Be careful, okay?” Jackie looked back towards the two woman, lip again pulled nervously between her teeth. “Call me if anything goes wrong. And remember that she’s not allowed chocolate after seven. I’ll be re-“

“We’ll be fine Jackie, go to the fancy banquet or whatever.” Gigi rolled her eyes, shooing her out of the door and pulling Arcelia close to her side. “It’s not like we would ever fight in front of her” she scoffed, shooting Nicky a piercing glance.

“Merdé, of course not. You Americans worry so much.” The French woman remarked. She peaked through the gaps between her fingers with narrowed eyes “Arcie, I hope you hid Jeromeo well because I’m getting hungry!” She growled, stomping her feet against the hardwood. Of course Nicky had somehow made the kid name her bear fucking Jeromeo.

Arcelia shrilled, sprinting to go hide behind the kitchen countertop. “You’ll never find him!” she yelled triumphantly, dark brown hair peaking just slightly overtop the marble. “Not over my dead body!”

“We’ll see about that, petite fille. If I don’t find him, I’ll have to eat you instead!” Nicky grinned, jumping up off of the couch and almost comically pausing when she saw Gigi standing awkwardly to the side, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “Oh yeah, hi Gigi.” The French woman smirked, eyes bright and taunting while tiny strands of hair fell out of her loose ponytail to frame her face.

Right now, it was white blond, cut short to brisk the tops of her shoulders. Gigi could picture herself running her fingers among the strands, hands grazing her scalp and tugging softly. She scoffed to herself, no way in hell was she going to be running her fingers through Nicky’s hair anytime soon. Why would she even want to.

The other looked up, grin tensing into an offended frown. “Are you making fun of me?” She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

Gigi faulted, flinching at the angry tone. “Wh – how? I didn’t even insult you.”

The blonde didn’t stutter, tilting her head. “You scoffed. You think I didn’t hear you?”

Gigi scoffed again, just to prove that she could. She looked over at Arcelia, who had forgotten about whatever chasing game her and Nicky were going to play in favour whispering something to Jeromeo, petting his soft head carefully.

She studied the stuffed animals detailed embroidery, tan fur resembling the French woman’s own hair. “You bought her that?” Gigi asked nonchalantly, mind running through ideas of how she could top it. A toy boat, maybe? Some nice clothes? 

“Yeah,” Nicky answered, looking caught off guard. “She actually declared me as the aunt of the week moments before you arrived.”

Gigi scowled, watching as Arcie swung the teddy around fondly in her arms. “Oh please. I’ll have the title by next week tops.”

“You really think I would let you do that?”The shorter woman asked sagely, raising a challenging brow. “I am her favorite aunt ever, so no matter wh-“

“I am her favorite aunt ever times a thousand, you fuck – “

“Fuck!” Arcelia giggled against her wrist, looking up at the two older women with a grin. Gigi gaped, staring down at her with horror and frantically waving her hands in front of the Persian child to will her to stop. Arcie only said it louder, smiling innocently while chanting the curse word around the living room like a nursery rhyme.

Nicky cackled, clapping her hands at Gigi’s misfortune. “Have fun explaining that, Miss Goode.”

She was fucked.

***

“Do you want coffee?” Nicky asked, pursing her lips and gesturing to the kettle sitting on top of the marble counter. Gigi looked up from the couch, smoothing down the layers of blankets and pillows while Arcelia fiddled happily on the living room rug.

The brunette glanced up, blinking, “Can you make me a hot chocolate?”

The older woman snorted. “I was generous enough by offering you a cup of coffee.” Still, she reached for the mason jar full of cocoa powder and carefully sifted it into a mug.

Gigi shrugged, pulling her gaze away from Nicky’s hands (dainty, elegant hands) back to the television. “It’s for Arcie, though.”

The Blonde tilted her head, narrowing her eyes, “You don’t want some?”

“No,” The shorter woman scrunched up her nose, “I need something stronger than hot chocolate.”

“What, like a drink?”

She hummed. “Yeah, can’t drink it with the little one present, though.” Arcelia looked up with a bright smile, cheeks puffing out like a squirrel. Gigi pulled her close, ruffling her dark hair. 

Nicky sat down on the sofa after, setting the mug down carefully on the table and taking a sip of her own coffee. “What movie is this?” She asked as the intro music played, running her eyes critically at the screen.

“Frozen. You know, Elsa, Anna, all the magic shit.”

“Shit!” Arcelia giggled quietly, to enamoured with the movie to really pay attention. Gigi groaned, bringing a hand to her head in frustration.

The blonde laughed, throwing her head back, “Jan’s gonna be fuming if she finds out all the words you’ve taught her.”

“Yeah,” she replied with a sigh, picking at the edge of the couch cushions, “At least I’m your favourite Aunt, right Arcie?”

Nicky clicked her tongue, “No way. I’m her favorite aunt, I won this week fair and square.”

“Fine,” The brunette sighed in defeat, rolling her eyes, “But we’ll see about next week. She obviously is gonna pick me.”

Nicky smirked, “You think so? I’d like to see you try.”

The blonde focused her attention back to the movie, not giving Gigi a second glance. The younger woman tried to do the same, but every few minutes she couldn’t help but gaze conspicuously in Nicky’s direction, eyes roaming the others features appreciatively. Gigi told herself it was because the French woman happened to have white blond hair, a very distracting color in the dimly lit room. Yes. Gigi was sure. Nicky Doll’s only attractive body part was her white blond hair. Soft, golden, white blonde hair.

Why was she thinking about Nicky Dolls attractive body anyway? Gigi shook her head, she was just tired because she had had a long day and needed something to relax and Nicky was right there, eyes narrowing in disdain because some character in Frozen did something stupid, lips pursed and bitten a diluted red.

“Why,” The blonde started exasperatedly, startling Gigi out of her thoughts, “does Elsa have to isolate herself in a fucking room?”

“Language,” The shorter woman chastised, glancing down at Arcelia who was slumped over her lap, eyes sleepy and unseeing. “She didn’t want to hurt her sister.”

“Oh s'il te plait, she already has gloves,” Nicky pointed out with a frown, leaning back against the sofa.

“It’s still dangerous.”

The blonde puckered her lips again, ready to complain but clearly thought better, instead running a hand through the child’s hair gently and leaning down to face her, “Hey, sweetheart, do you want a hot chocolate?”

Arcelia shook her head tiredly, eyes unmoving from the screen, so Gigi sighed and tried to enjoy the movie for her sake, even though she had seen in hundred of times before.

At least until Nicky complained again.

“Anna is the stupidest character I’ve seen, and I’ve seen plenty of stupid characters.”

“She’s not stupid!”

The blonde snorted into her coffee. “Falling in love with a man she met on the same day? Stupid, if you ask me.”

Gigi shrugged. “We don’t know about that, really. Don’t you believe love at first sight?”

“I don’t,” Nicky answered curtly. “Love at first sight means you only look at the person’s appearance, right? It means you fall for a person because of their looks, and not their personality.”

“So are you saying,” The brunette laughed a little, “that you’re willing to date anybody as long as they have a great personality?”

Nicky groaned, looking back at the movie. “I’m still shallow enough to prefer good looking woman, Gigi. And I don’t just fuck anybody. I’m not like you.”

She laughed again, leaning her head back against the sofa. “I actually wanted to get laid tonight.” Gigi reminisced, remembering the leather jacket she had left at home. She would’ve looked ravishing in that.

“I don’t need to know that, you dummy.”

Gigi didn’t answer, instead looking down to check on Arcelia, who was already sleeping. It was rather an odd position to fall asleep in, head resting on Gigi’s thigh while her legs tangled in between Nicky’s.

“She’s sleeping,” murmured the French woman quietly. 

“No shit.”

“Should we take her to her bed?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “She’ll get cranky if she’s in that position too long.”

Nicky scooped the child up into her arms easily, hand brushing slightly against Gigi’s side. The blonde nodded, signalling to the younger to wait while she put the kid to bed. Gigi didn’t have to be told twice, her mind was reeling. She didn’t understand how she was feeling, heart racing although she couldn’t pin point why. Maybe it had all started when Nicky had touched her thigh, but she’d never felt so romanised by it…ever. Repulsed, sure. But this was an entirely new reaction and it bothered her, so so much.

Nicky wasn’t ugly. She was really attractive and even if the brunette didn’t like her, she had to acknowledge that. Nicky was so attractive, she looked like a model straight out of a fashion magazine that Gigi might’ve fawned over when she was younger and fuck did that make her head spin. Her lips were pretty as well. They looked soft. Gigi wondered if they felt as soft as they looked.

She was fucked. Especially when she realized just how much she wanted to kiss the older woman and melt into her embrace. She was extremely fucked, especially when said woman was in the other room and was coming back to sit next to her to continue watching the movie. With nothing separating them now.

“So,” Nicky announced once the child was taken care of, sitting elegantly back down on the lounge, “You believe in love at first sight, then?”

“Not really. But countless people fell in love at the first sight, so who am I to squash the theory?” Gigi shrugged, eyes burning holes into the television scream to avoid Nicky’s piercing gaze.

The blonde clicked her tongue. “There’s no theory,” she mused, “it’s just statements after statements and people can lie, you know.”

Gigi hummed, “But will we ever know?”

“No.” She shrugged. “I didn’t believe in love until recently, actually.”

Her heart stung at the hint behind those words, shoulders slumping in disappointKent although she didn’t really know why, “Did you finally find a girlfriend? Gee, took you a while.”

Nicky chuckled, picking at her cuticles with a sigh. “No, still single as ever.”

“Oh,” Gigi immediately relaxed, “Well, that makes two of us I guess.”

She knew she had stepped into personal territory, but Nicky didn’t seem to mind. “I want to find someone but I’ve been so busy with work, you know? And dating apps don’t really work for anyone, so..”

“Why are you telling me this? Ew.” Gigi stuck out her tongue, scrunching her nose up in disgust.

“Why?” The French woman raised an eyebrow, “You jealous?”

The brunette scoffed, but it didn’t sound as convincing as it should’ve. “No. Why would I be?”

“I don’t know,” the other replied, “maybe because you have a crush on me?”

Oh god. 

Shit shit shit. “I don’t.”

“Gigi,”

The brunette didn’t move.

“Cherì,”

Gigi hesitantly looked up, the French nickname sounding warm in her ears. It felt weird, and yet familiar at the same time. Her breathing hitched when Nicky held her shoulders, expression unreadable and satire.

“You do, don’t you?”

Gigi still didn’t move, still staring at the taller woman in disbelief. She herself had only come to realize that fact just now, but how could Nicky –

Oh. It made sense now. “What am I thinking right now?” She asked breathily, eyes wide in terror.

Nicky looked dumbfounded, emotionless facade faultering. “What?”

“Answer me. What am I thinking right now?” There was no better explanation as to why Nicky was able to guess his feelings right away, plus that stupid French accent certainly added to the witchy aesthetic. Nicky was a fucking mind reader. Gigi was sure of it.

“How am I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know, by reading my mind?” She reiterated, waving her hands to encourage her to continue.

“Why the fuck would I be able to read minds?”

“You tell me!”

“No,” Nicky snapped, “I don’t read minds. You’re just an open book.”

“But,” Gigi narrowed her eyes, “You were able to deduce this five minutes after I realised it?”

The French woman’s jaw dropped wide open, eyes once again widening. “You mean to tell me you realized that you like me five minutes ago?”

“Yeah.”

“And before that?”

“I hated your guts.”

“I hated your guts too, by the way.”

Gigi smirked, lifting her chin, “Past tense”

The blonde rolled her eyes, “Can I kiss you?” She sounded depraved, fingers twitching on top of Gigi’s shoulders.

“What?! Why?!” The brunette jolted, recoiling backward.

The other woman sighed deeply, looking like she was contemplating her choice. Maybe she would’ve taken back the words but it was rather late for that. “That means I like you, you dumbass. And I know you like me back, you’ve been hinting at it for months and I was waiting for you to finally crack.

Gigi stared at Nicky in disbelief, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t give you any hints. What are you talking about?”

“You asked me to put sun screen on your back even though it was the middle of winter?”

“That’s a completely valid ask, you perv!”

“Okay, what about all the times you’ve laughed at my jokes.”

“Maybe I hated you but if you’re funny I’m still going to laugh.”

“When you winked at me during brunch”

“Crystal punched me seconds before that.”

“When you go to the vegetable section with me at the grocery store.”

“Because Arcie likes vegetables?”

Nicky groaned, face red in embarrassment. “I’m so humiliated right now, damn it.”

The brunette laughed, hesitantly wrapping her arms around Nicky’s waist. “No, don’t be. I still like you back, remember?”

The taller woman looked up and stared at Gigi with an open mouth, as though waiting for her to take it back. “Wait, you meant it?”

“Of course,” Gigi snorted. “Enemies to lovers, or whatever.”

They were silent for a moment, just basking in each other’s presence. Gigi’s eyes traced every line of Nicky’s face, wondering what would it feel like if she touched it.

“Can I kiss you?” The blonde asked quietly, rolling her eyes while Gigi giggled at the words.

It was a very sweet kiss.

And because Gigi was a very reasonable woman, she kissed Nicky back

[chinguwritings]

A 3RACHA Fan-Fiction

|| Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6 ||

A/N: It’s finally here guys!! I know it took me a while, I was working on other fics but eventually I was able to get to this.😃  It’s expected to be 8 parts (may be subject to change), and it is MALE x MALE. Sorry for those of you who were expecting a y/n fic, but im a weeb and I love BL hehe. Also, it’s pride month so perfect timing, right? Later down the line I may write a 3racha x reader though, we’ll see. ~ Admin Kay

Chapter 1 - Confession

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hanahaki AU

Rating: PG (swearing, mentions of sex)

Word Count: 2.9k

“And cut!” Chan exclaimed as he ended the recording, “Great job, J.one, you sounded really good today! I can tell you’ve been practicing.”

“T-thanks,” Jisung stuttered in response, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped out of the recording room.

“Text me when you’re free again so we can work on the other songs, alright?” Chan smilied, giving Jisung a couple pats on the back, “I’ll see you later.”

“Alright, see you,” he replied quietly, taking a deep breath as he quickly made his way out of the studio. 

His heart was pounding at the sound of those kind words and praise about his rapping, and he couldn’t help but smile as he thought about how proud Chan looked. He loved knowing his hard work paid off, after all the long nights staying up past one in the morning trying to fix his rhythm and tone, repeating the lines over and over again until everything was absolutely perfect, all that for a simple ‘good job’… but it was hearing it from Chan that made all the difference; he wanted nothing more than to impress him.

“Hyung, I’m home,” Jisung announced, walking through the door and tossing his things aside before slumping into the couch. 

“How was the recording?” Changbin asked as he joined Jisung on the couch.

“It was great! Chan said he could tell I’ve been practicing,” Jisung bragged, a huge grin spread across his lips as he spoke.

“That’s good. Your late night practicing is paying off, then.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Because I can hear you? Your room is right next to mine and the walls aren’t that thick you know.”

“Oh… well, when is your next recording?”

“Tomorrow morning, so I’m gonna be practicing all night tonight.”

Jisung simply nodded in response, a tinge of jealousy slowly sinking in at the thought of Changbin spending time with Chan alone. He knew it was nothing to get worked up about, they all had to record together from time to time, but for some reason it still seemed to bother him. 

“Soo…” Changbin started, “are we going out for dinner today?”

“Hm… no, I’m good,” Jisung replied, “I’ll just find something in the fridge to eat.”

“Alright, let me know if you change your mind. I’m heading out.”

Jisung nodded at the older boy's words and watched as Changbin left the house. Once he was out of sight, Jisung scrambled for his phone and immediately dialled Chan, checking to see if maybe he would be free later.

“Hello?” he answered only after a few rings.

“Uh, hey, Chan… are you free later tonight? Do you think we could meet up? There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Um… I think I’m free after 8 o’clock. Is that okay with you, or is that too late?”

“Uh… actually can we meet later? Maybe… 11:30?”

“11:30?!” Chan exclaimed, pausing for a moment before speaking again, “I mean… I guess that’s fine, it’s not like I’d be doing anything other than sleeping… So where are we gonna meet?”

“Hm… how about that twenty four hour cafe across the street from the studio?”

“Alright, sounds good to me.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

“Yep, see yah.”

Jisung let out a sigh of relief as he hung up the phone, a huge smile on his face as he combed his fingers through his hair. Jumping up from the couch, he immediately went to the bathroom to shower and get himself ready for his ‘date’ with Chan. He took his time in the shower, thinking about all the possible ways it could go, all the things he should say, all the advances he could make… but he was also nervous because maybe Chan didn’t even feel the same, maybe he only viewed him as a friend.

Although this wasn’t the first time they were going out, for Jisung, this time felt totally different; it was the first time he was going out with Chan, having officially accepted that he has feelings for him. It had been a while since Jisung first became interested, but during that time he was just trying to figure out if he truly liked Chan or if it was something else. He wasn’t sure if it was a strong sense of friendship, or maybe just that he thought Chan was attractive, or maybe he felt lustful towards him… and with all the possibilities in mind he thought that maybe what he was feeling was just a phase. But after a while of thinking and letting his feelings develop, he determined that he really did like Chan and wanted to build a serious relationship with him if possible.

He knew he definitely wasn’t ready to confess to him yet, but he did feel like he should at least inform Chan of his sexuality; he had to take everything in baby steps to ensure the smoothest results possible. At that point, if Chan admitted that he didn’t swing that way, then there would be no point in confessing and Jisung would have to try a different approach or just leave it at that.

Just as Jisung finished his shower, hair still damp with his towel wrapped around his waist, Changbin came home, a puzzled look forming on his face as he caught a glimpse of Jisung.

“You showered early,” Changbin commented as he put his food down on the table, “Going somewhere?”

“N-no…” Jisung replied nervously as he slowly continued making his way to his room, “I just… was feeling a little icky so I decided to shower. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go put some clothes on.” Entering his room, he closed the door behind him, quickly throwing on some pajamas before making his way back out to the kitchen to join Changbin.

“What’d you get? Smells good,” Jisung commented as he sat down next to Changbin.

“Just some noodles and chicken from the place down the street. You want some?” Changbin asked as he gestured the food towards Jisung.

“Nah, I’m good… I already ate,” he lied, not wanting to spoil his appetite in case Chan wanted to grab a bite to eat when they met up.

“Oh yeah, what’d you end up eating?”

“Oh uh… just… some leftovers… not much though because I uh… wasn’t that hungry.” 

Changbin only nodded in response, acknowledging the statement as he continued to eat his food.

“So I was wondering…” Jisung started, “How late are you planning to stay up tonight?”

“To practice? Hm… I don’t know, depends when I’m satisfied with how I sound. Why?”

“Just wondering because I wanna be able to sleep tonight…”

“I’m not gonna be thaaat loud.”

“And I quote, ‘... the walls aren’t that thick you know…’”

“Alright, fine, I’ll try not to stay up too late.”

“Good. Besides, you’re already an amazing wrapper, hyung, don’t stress out about it,” Jisung assured, placing a hand on Changbin’s shoulder, “It’s better to get lots of rest so that you’re not tired tomorrow morning for your recording.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right, thanks Sungie.”

“Of course! Only the best for my best friend.”

* * *

Time dragged as Jisung waited and waited for the clock to hit 11; he was getting way too anxious for his secret little rendezvous with Chan. He had his nicest outfit picked out along with his best cologne, and he had also pre-packed mints and a condom in his pants pocket in case y’know… things happened, and of course, he made sure to bring extra money so that he could pay the bill if they decided to go out to eat or have drinks or something. After what felt like forever, finally, around 10:30, Changbin finished up his practicing.

“Goodnight, Jisung,” Changbin said as he popped his head into Jisung’s room, “You can sleep in peace now.” 

“Thanks, I will. Goodnight, Changbin-hyung,” Jisung lied through his teeth as Changbin closed the bedroom door and continued on his way to his own. 

The moment Jisung heard Changbin’s bedroom door close, he immediately popped up out of bed and changed into his nice clothes, quickly fixing his hair and giving himself a few spritz of cologne. Taking one last glance in the mirror, he deemed himself presentable and so at last, he was able to start making his way out. First, he snuck out of his bedroom, being sure to make as little sound as possible as he opened and closed his door, and then he quickly but quietly made his way to the front door. Once he was outside, he locked the door behind him and started walking down the sidewalk toward the cafe that he and Chan agreed to meet at. As excited as he was to see Chan, he forced himself to walk slowly so that he wouldn’t be all sweaty and gross in front of him, especially since he’d already showered.

 Jisung arrived about fifteen minutes early, so he decided to find a table to sit at while he waited for Chan to arrive. Thankfully, since it was late, there were lots of open tables so it was easy for him to find a spot. Only about five minutes had passed when he heard the cafe door open, and as he looked up, sure enough, it was Chan. He gulped as he looked away, pretending not to see that Chan had just walked in and instead, waiting for him to come to the table.

“Wow, you’re early,” Chan spoke as he sat down across from Jisung.

“Oh, haha yeah,” Jisung replied nervously, glancing down at the time on his phone which read 11:20 pm, “You’re early too.”

“Yeah,” Chan shrugged, his little dimple showing as he grinned at Jisung, “Better to be early than late. I wanted to be here before you but you beat me.”

Jisung only nodded in response, the butterflies that were filling his stomach making it hard for him to make conversation.

“Did you… wanna grab some drinks?” Chan asked as he motioned toward the counter.

“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry,” Jisung replied, quickly standing up and following Chan to the counter to order.

“Hi, what can I get for you guys tonight?” the barista smiled.

“Hi, I’ll just take a small hot cocoa, and uh… what do you want Jisung?”

“Uh… I’ll have the same as him…”

“Okay, so two small hot cocoas… can I get a name for the order?”

“Chan.”

Upon hearing the price of the transaction from the barista, Jisung scrambled for his wallet in his back pocket and quickly rummaged through his bills to give the appropriate cash, but before he could, Chan snatched Jisung’s wallet out of his hands and instead, paid for the drinks with his own card.

“Alrighty, your drinks will be out in a bit.”

“Thank you,” Chan replied, quickly putting his card away as he walked back to the table, Jisung just following close behind, but too shy to speak up and ask for his wallet back.

“So…” Chan started as he sat down across from Jisung, a cheeky grin spread across his face, “What’s this?” Between his index and middle finger, he held up a square, metallic package that Jisung immediately recognized to be the condom he had hidden in his wallet for emergency purposes. “Are you getting some action and you didn’t tell me? Is that what you wanted to talk to me about tonight?”

“Uh…” Jisung mumbled, unable to make eye contact with Chan as his cheeks flushed a faint pink color, “N-no I’m not I just… I figured it’s good to have one just in case… y’know? Better safe than sorry… right?”

“You don’t have to be shy about it, dude. You can tell me if you aren’t a virgin anymore.”

“Hyung… I’m really not having sex.”

“Order for Chan!” the barista called, interrupting the conversation. “I can get it,” Jisung blurted, quickly shooting up before Chan even  had the chance and quickly making his way back to the counter to grab the drinks.

Shit… Why’d he have to find the condom so fast, we literally just met up… Jisung thought to himself, shaking his head  as he grabbed the drinks and started making his way back. This ‘date’ was definitely not going as smoothly as he thought it would in his head. Sitting back down at the table with the drinks, there was an awkward silence for a bit, Jisung unable to make eye contact with Chan, who was curiously observing Jisung’s obviously nervous body language.

“So,” Chan started as he took a sip of his drink, “If not that… what is it you needed to tell me?”

“U-uh well…” Jisung stuttered, gulping hard before continuing, “It’s a little… personal so like… I don’t really wanna talk about it in public.”

“Oh, okay… how about we go for a drive then?” 

“You drove?”

“Yeah, I kinda stole the company van,” he smirked as he took another sip of his cocoa.

“You what?!” Jisung exclaimed, wide eyed, “You won’t get in trouble??”

“As long as I don’t crash it I won’t,” he chuckled, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Nervously, Jisung followed Chan out to the van, his hands cold and heart pounding as he got in and put on his seatbelt. As Chan drove, Jisung stayed quiet, staring out the window as he thought about how he was going to tell Chan. 

I can’t just… say it… that’s weird. I need to start a conversation first… maybe just… ask how he’s been? or something?? Ask him about his music? but then how will I change the topic after? Ugh… I don’t know… this is pathetic…

Chan couldn’t help but notice that something was off about Jisung. He’d never seen him so tense and on edge before and he found it rather concerning. He could only hope that whatever it was that Jisung had to say, he would be able to handle it well and give Jisung the comfort he was looking for.

Finally, after about a twenty minute drive, Chan backed the van into a rather barren place that Jisung had never been to before… to him, it looked like they were literally in the middle of nowhere.

“Where a--” Jisung started, but before he could finish, Chan had already gotten out of the car and shut the door, but it didn’t take Jisung long to jump out of his seat and chase after him. “Chan, where a-- whoa…”  This time, before he could finish speaking, he got distracted by the breathtaking sight before him, his eyes gleaming with amazement as his mouth fell agape; Chan had driven them up to a lookout of the city.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Chan smiled seeing Jisung’s appalled reaction. “I always come here when I’m stressed out and need to clear my head… come,” Chan motioned, patting a seat next to him for Jisung to sit. Jisung had been so absorbed in the view that he was completely oblivious of Chan opening the liftgate and laying out a blanket for them to sit on. Jisung’s cheeks burned in reaction to Chan’s kind gesture, butterflies soon filling his stomach yet again despite his efforts to keep himself calm. He was sure that Chan didn’t have any special intentions for doing what he did, but Jisung couldn't help but feel that it was really romantic, and maybe even a little flirty… and unfortunately, it was making him even more nervous than he already was.

“Sung,” Chan called, concern in his voice as he reached for Jisung’s hand. Jisung gasped in response, unintentionally pulling his hand away in an act of panic as he struggled to contain his emotions.

“Are you okay, Jisung?! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Chan bolted up from his seat, facing Jisung directly, “Is it something I did?”

“N-no, no! It’s not you, I just… you startled me… sorry…”

“No, don’t apologize… I shouldn’t have been so bold knowing something was bothering you, I’m sorry…”

Jisung could still feel his heart pounding out of his chest, hands cold and stomach tied in knots as he stood there, trying his best to calm himself down. It was now or never; it was starting to get late and he didn't drag Chan out at 11:30 at night just to say nothing. Taking a deep breath, he finally forced himself to say what he’d been meaning to say all night.

“Chan… you're a really great guy… and even though it doesn't seem like it right now, I feel extremely comfortable around you and I feel like I can trust you with any secret and well… I have a pretty big one… but just to be clear, I’m still a virgin, I wasn’t lying about that earlier.”

“I’m sorry, that was my bad… I was just making assumptions. I’m glad you trust me with any secret though, Jisung. Right now, I want you to know we’re in a completely judge free zone and I promise you, whatever happens here or is said here, stays here. Okay? You can tell me whatever you need to and I will be sure to keep that promise.”

Jisung found comfort in Chan’s words, the love and support he showed easing some of his nerves as he prepared himself to finally reveal his secret, “Okay… you’re the only person that I’ve told this to so far… even though I’ve been holding onto it for a while… but that’s why I was so damn nervous.” Closing his eyes, he clenched his fists anxiously as he took one last deep breath before finally parting his lips to speak, “Chan… I’m gay.”

|| Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6 ||

[thaliatimsh]

if its alright! wrt the 'directors commentary' asks, honestly anything /Anything/ for 'imperfect life', oof :0

ONE DVD COMMENTARY TRACK COMING UP BECAUSE HELL YES you may ask me about this one. GOD I HOPE THIS READ MORE WORKS OR I’M GONNA DIE OF SHAME. For those of you who’ve missed my pleas: imperfect life is on AO3 here. read it or i cry.

Okay I reblogged that post with not much of an idea about what I’d actually have to say but imperfect life is at least at the forefront of my mind lol

First things first I’d had an idea for a fic about Hodgson At Mutineer Camp that i wanted to write floating around my head for a while that was. I suppose centred on the sheer Betrayal of GIBSON YOU CHANGED MY SHEETS FOR THREE YEARS? WHAT THE FUCK? And as I did more research abt both of them and found that they’d been on ships together & that it was likely that either Hodgson or Peglar got Gibson his job? Fuckin wrote itself, especially seeing as in show-canon Bridgens is the Peglar Papers Steward.

Anyway I’ve said this before to everyone who’ll listen but I will say it again: I think Hodgson is misinterpreted & underappreciated by a lot of the fandom &  it makes me SAD and also ANGRY.

Like: I once saw someone say that he was “mad about Jopson’s promotion, so fuck that guy”? NO. He MISSED Jopson’s promotion! He would have gotten a KICK out of Jopson’s promotion! You BASTARDS! Hickey picks on him SPECIFICALLY because he’s out of the loop! I’ll kill you!

Ham jokes? I’m coming to your HOUSE. man’s as ‘obsessed with ham’ as any self-respecting naval officer starving to death in the arctic

Then there’s the “Who is this?” being taken as some kind of a-okay for cannibalism instead of a guy who saw someone shot dead just last night and then spent the morning burying said dead'un being literally scared out of his mind by a greasy lil rat with a knife and Tozer blocking the tent flap with a fuckign RIFLE. DAMN YOU ALL.

Do I think he’s a complete FOOL? YES. Do I think he ever had any kind of malicious intent? NO. Okay anyway I’m gonna talk a bit more abt that later so let me go back to the next part lmao

So Part 2 of the George Henry Hodgson Saga was then to figure out why he had to go stay with his aunts - this ALSO came pretty straight to me, for whatever reason. I think it might have started off as just his parents pleasure jaunt, but as I was thinking about later scenes with Jimmy Fitzjas I came up with a thing abt - Im not gonna find the reference now but in the battersby book there’s a bit abt William Coningham going to take the waters at bath or whatever for Weak Lungs which OBVIOUSLY made me think of my favourite comsumptive Of All Time Fryderyk Franciszek Chopin & the countryside retreats he & his sister Emilia took for their symptoms as teenagers (and unforch Emilia died of tuberculosis aged just 14… rip)

ANYWAY I had some VAGUE idea that George n Fitz could have some kind of Passing Discussion abt Brothers With Shite Lungs that obviously never came to fruition but. Lol whatever, it gave me a reason for why My Parents Sent Me To Stay With Two Aunts.

UH. Right, so then like the third leg for this to stand on was that Fitzjames and Hodgson had ALSO served together & Fitzjames had: 1. recommended Hodgson to the expedition 2: mentioned him TWICE in his Voyage of the Cornwallis 3. Mentioned him in his letters to the Coninghams from disko bay (one of the only Terrors mentioned - there’s a passage abt Fitzjames going to look at the icebergs with Fairholme and Hodgson. ANYWAY; show-canon Hodgson has a sense of humour and I really think he tried to make the men see him as approachable, at least compared to the other Terror officers and that reminds me a lot of how the historical Fitzjames seemed from mystery man! Seeing as they KNew each other I think it’s not unfair to suggest that he’s trying to emulate an older and more successful officer! He wants to succeed! He wants to have fun and to be loved by The Men!

My friend said something very Prescient abt this to me recently which was that THere are a lot of similarities between Hodgson & Fitzjames and it’s kinda like. Fitzjames is the Ideal, and Hodgson just misses the mark. He’s the average man’s James Fitzjames and because he doesn’t know about Fitzjames’ surplus of political luck that only makes him feel more of a failure. Fitzjames gets a bullet that gets him compared to Lord Nelson, Hodgson gets in the gazette as ‘slightly wounded’. Even their monologues! Fitzjames gives a soul-baring confessional he’s never talked about before to someone he respects and he gets! Affirmation! Gets told that he’s a good man and brave and loved! Hodgson gives a soul-baring confessional he’s never talked about before to someone he respects and gets! FUCK ALL! A MAN SITS IN SILENCE! He has to fucking! Walk out alone after all of that! FUCK!!!

Okay so this whole fic just sat in my brain for probably like six months until I literally sat up in bed because I worked out the last piece of the puzzle

(Drac has an epiphany, July 4th 2019, colourised)

Which was, of course, 'Hodgson went to boarding school’ - which is what all of this ends up hanging off of! Boarding school culture! The younger years are servants for the upper years, who in turn are responsible for the younger students!  including discipline etc so like… if a younger year brought something up to their “fag-master” it’d be sorted by them and maybe prefects, without getting schoolmasters etc involved.

WHICH is why George doesn’t tell the captains about what happens to Neptune, because he’s out here trying to be a good fag master and get it sorted himself! His own fag master fucked him over by getting the schoolmasters involved when they oughtn’t have been! He’s not about to be Archibald Harrington-Thurlowe! He’s not okaying the mutiny! He’s trying to minimise the damage *on his own* like a fuckin idiot!

IF YOU CALL HODGSON A MUTINEER I’LL COME TO YOUR HOUSE N MAKE YOU GET LOST AND ABANDONED AND END UP EATING YOUR BOOT BEFORE GETTING 'RESCUED’ BY THE SAME GREASY RAT WHO LITERALLY MURDERED YOUR PAL AND TRICKED YOU INTO SLAUGHTERING CIVILIANS! I’LL. I’M NOT HAPPY.

I’m just basically so upset about 'one perfect moment in a whole imperfect life’ being a childhood memory that he was taught to see as so shameful to compare it to cannibalism under duress? FUCK.

A whole imperfect life in GENERAL has me fucked up! He just kept trying and kept just missing what he was aiming for! I mean. That’s relateable. Not one part of a life turning out as you expected or planned? ME!!!! Your achievements add up to nothing and no matter how hard you try you end up a footnote! FUCK offfff

I had some difficulty with the religious angle for a while because. hm. okay. To start with the religious angle IN-CANON is just.... not correct. Catholics don't let you drink the blood. The church of england DOES... and that's what most of these men ARE. The Papist Speech as a whole was cobbled together from one of Crozier's ~Visions~ in the book - and it's important in that case that Crozier is IRISH... Poor analogy, writers! Putting aside that he was also... SEVEN... maybe he was an unusually tall seven-year old, people assumed he'd had first communion/been baptised & no one wanted to cause a fuss... I mean the guy has lead poisoning so it's fair to mis-remember but... YEAH. Messy, which is a shame because it's a powerful monologue very well-delivered, shame it's complete fucking nonsense 😂 (not to be like... SMH Americans but... smh Americans...)

Anyway, as I wrote it? that’s me. I wasn’t raised religious - my dad’s an old-school small-town Continental Catholic, my mum’s agnostic but raised CofE (but *her* dad was raised Jewish (also continental) during WW2), I think they couldn’t be fucked with the drama, I never went to church or anything and as a kid when we had prayers at school assembly I didn’t know what I was doing!!!! I felt bad because I couldn’t fathom God as a concept!!! I still can’t! But as a kid it’s like. I don’t understand and on account of that I’m afraid I’m going to Hell. tfw you write what you know.

ALSO there were definitely a couple of times where I wrote G H Hodgson as played by B W Wooster and I will not be taking constructive criticism on that.

ANYWAY My brain has kindof turned itself off now but I guess this is just. My own personal backstory to this jhsgfjhs. I actually probably have about 400x more to say but it’s fully evaporated. thank you SO MUCH for asking me though. i die.

[autumnalfallingleaves]

Feeling sappy, gonna ramble a bit

~~~

I know it sound cliche and kinda odd, but I am not exaggerating when I say Trollhunters literally changed my life.

Back in 2017, I was depressed. It wasn’t ever clinically diagnosed or anything, but looking back two years later, I can recognize that I was definitely depressed. Fast forward to spring of 2018, and I was shaking off the last dregs of said depression. 

I had just finished Dragons: Race to the Edge, and I was looking for something new to watch. I love cartoons, so I was looking for something interesting. Trollhunters was in my recommended and the thumbnail for it at the time was a shot of the Multiplicity of Jimbos from Hero With a Thousand Faces. I thought, “why is there a bunch of this one character but all of them have different shirts?” or something along those lines. So I started watching. 

A couple episodes in, I took a break to watch a show a friend suggested to me. A month later, I had finished, and I went back to Trollhunters. I distinctly remember that it was A Recipe for Disaster that got me really hooked. I became invested in the characters, what they were going through, and the overall plot. 

I loved it.

I timed it exactly so I finished season 2 the evening before season 3 dropped (still pretty proud of myself, tbh). After I finished season 3, I started reading fic for the show. The AO3 archive was only 19 pages at the time. I read just about everything. I think that was around the time I shrugged off the depression; I had found something I really loved. I published my first fic, a oneshot collection, August of that year. The feedback I got inspired me to write more and write more I did. 

Trollhunters also helped me figure out some stuff about myself. Before, I had known I was bi and ace, but I didn’t really understand those two things at that point. Come June/Pride Month, a bunch of fics were published by @im-the-king-of-the-ocean exploring the sexualities of different ToA characters. I’m being 100% honest when I say that I discovered some terms in the those fics that I was able to apply to myself that I hadn’t known of previously. (Big thank-you!! You helped a girl figure herself out!!) Now, I can call myself biromantic, demiromantic, and asexual and know what those mean and how they apply to me.

My love for the fandom finally drove me to get a Tumblr. I’ve been drawing fanart for a while, but I didn’t really have the means to share it. None of my friends share my interests, and my family isn’t really a “fannish” family. I’m the only fanperson. It’s sad. Now, with my own blog, I can share my art and get feedback from the fandom I’m in. I couldn’t do this before, and I’m so happy I can show people my work and have it appreciated by people on the same wavelength as me. As well, I’ve learned some stuff about gender and sexuality that I wouldn’t have found out anywhere else. Did you know the term for an androgynous bi girl is a “tomcat”? I didn’t, but now I know that, and I regularly apply it to myself. 

Having my own blog has also allowed me to make friends who have the same interests as me. In real life, I’m a bit of a loner. No one likes what I like and I don’t even really have a “best” friend. I’m just now realizing how lonely I was before I got a Tumblr. I couldn’t talk about what I like and what I think about it. Now, I’ve made a couple friends who have the same interests as me and always comment the nicest stuff on my posts. 

In my real life, I’m quiet and misunderstood. I don’t get to go many places because I live literally 20 minutes from anything important and the nearest city is an hour away. On here, you guys see the real me: the nerd who posts stupid screenshots and loves TrollDad. I can’t be this person in real life, sadly.

Trollhunters drove me to put myself out there, and now, from that, I have more confidence in my daily life. I still have bad imposter syndrome/inferiority complex, but I’m learning how to overcome that. 

To wrap up, a huge thank-you goes to the ToA team at Dreamworks for creating this wonderful show and an even huger thank-you goes to the fandom for keeping me interested in the show and for encouraging me to write and draw more. 

[nerdsies]

Goodbye From the Refuge

ok so there was a problem with a couple of my fics so I’m reposting them Ship: none Era: canon Warnings: past violence, mention of blood, mild language, death Word Count: 1742

~~~

No one wanted to believe it at first.

It didn’t seem real. Just three days ago, Crutchie had sent Jack a letter. Just two days ago, Jack had snuck his way to the refuge to pay him a visit. Just yesterday, Davey had asked his parents if here was anything that could be done for kids in the refuge. The newsies were sure of two things: the strike was working, and they were going to get Crutchie free.

“D’you think Brooklyn will help?” Les asked timidly.

“‘Course not,” said Albert, “they got their own stuff goin’ on.”

“I thought newsies were there for each other,” said Les.

“C’mon, kid.” Davey steered his little brother in the direction of their house. “Let’s get some sleep, okay? We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Your brother ‘n’ I’ll come up with a plan tomorrow,” Jack promised, shooting the boy a smile.

“What kinda plan?” Finch asked.

Jack shrugged, already heading to his rooftop that Crutchie had admiringly called a ‘penthouse’ so many times. “Somethin’ good.”

~~~

The next morning, the newsies gathered bright and early in the square. They were determined to get Crutchie out of the refuge, though most of them had no idea how.

“Jack, you been in the refuge,” Mush recalled, “how d’you think we could get Crutchie out?”

“Yeah, Roosevelt probably ain’t gonna be there with an escape-carriage,” said JoJo.

“If his bunk ain’t far from the window, we could help him crawl out,” Race suggested.

Jack shook his head. “He’s busted up real bad. He couldn’t even make it to the window when I went.”

“I could sneak in,” Smalls offered, “and maybe Buttons, too, and we could carry ‘im to the window.”

“That’s a good idea,” Buttons agreed.

“When would we go?” Finch asked.

“Tonight,” said Albert.

“It’s gotta be tonight,” said Jack. “The guards don’t check on youse as much at night.”

The newsies mumbled their agreements to each other before disbanding to their selling spots.

~~~

As the sky turned the colour of ink, the newsies who lived elsewhere gathered at the lodgehouse with the others. There was a tense excitement in the air: this was dangerous, and they knew it, but it was also an adventure...the first adventure they’d had in awhile.

“Are we ready?” Davey asked. He was even more nervous than the others, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure that Les hadn’t followed him to the lodgehouse. It had taken a lot of convincing in order for his parents to agree, but none of them were willing to put Les in danger, too.

“Hell yeah,” said Smalls, balling his fists. “Let’s get Crutchie out.”

“Snyder won’t know what hit ‘im!” Buttons exclaimed.

Jack started delegating jobs: he and Davey would go first. Smalls and Buttons would follow a little behind, far enough so they wouldn’t be spotted if the other two were, but close enough that they could communicate. The other newsies insisted on going, too, but Davey insisted that they didn’t want too many to go, and Jack pointed out that many of them were still healing from the fight.

It wasn’t until Jack was staring at the exterior walls of the refuge that the gravity of the situation dawned on him. What if they got caught? That’s four easy newsies in the jail, one of them the long-chased poster boy for bad behaviour.

“You okay?” Davey asked.

Jack nodded, taking the first step up the fire escape. “I’m gonna tell Crutchie the plan. Wait a minute before sendin’ up Smalls and Buttons.” Davey nodded and turned to repeat the information as Jack headed up the steps.

The window was easy enough to open, he’d done it plenty of times before. He slid it open silently and peeked inside.

“Crutchie,” he whispered. “Crutchie!”

No answer. Why wasn’t he answering? Jack doubted Crutchie was asleep.

“Crutchie!” he tried again.

Jack heard rustling, and a small body moved a few bunks away.

“Crutchie, it’s me. It’s Jack.” Jack couldn’t help but smile. “We’s here to take ya home.”

“Jack Kelly?” Jack didn’t recognize the voice. It was lighter than Crutchie’s, and younger. “The newsboy?”

“Who’s askin’?”

The boy came into view. He was a few years younger than Jack, maybe 14, with dark brown hair and pale skin. Dark bags hung below sunken green eyes, and dried blood clotted a gash across his hollow cheeks.

Jack was pretty sure he’d seen the boy before, but had no idea who he was.

“Crutchie’s gone,” said the boy, pushing his ratted hair from his face.

“Gone where?”

“He’s gone,” the boy repeated, not making eye-contact.

Jack adjusted his cap. “Look, kid, I don’t have all night. I gotta take Crutchie before—”

“The men came and got rid of him yesterday.”

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?”

“Crutchie’s gone!” the boy said as loud as he could, tears spilling down his cheeks.  “I mean—”

“I know what you means,” Jack snapped. Didn’t he? Crutchie wasn’t…he couldn’t be…

“Crutchie’s dead. He died two days ago. They beat ‘im up real bad. A doctor came but it was too late. There was so much blood.” The boy wiped at his tears. “I thought you knew.”

“How could I?” Jack adjusted his cap again. The boy was lying, that was the only explanation. Crutchie wasn’t dead. This was a joke. A sick joke, sure, but definitely not the truth.

“I’m sorry,” said the boy.

“It ain’t your fault,” said Jack.

“It’s not yours either.” The boy offered Jack a small smile, one Jack didn’t return. He wasn’t so sure.

~~~

Jack hated breaking the news to the others. Davey got out of it; they snuck the boy — Jack couldn’t remember his name, and he didn’t really care — out the window and Davey took him back to his house so the Jacobs could fix him up before he joined the other orphaned newsies at the lodgehouse. Smalls and Buttons stayed silent the journey back, swapping looks of empathy and sorrow behind Jack’s back.

The others thought it was a joke, too. Race threatened to “beat Jack up real good if he don’t start tellin’ the truth.”

But he was, and it was obvious once he started crying. The others retreated to their bunks in shock, nobody saying a word until they finally fell asleep.

Jack retreated to the roof. He couldn’t sleep, although he wasn’t really trying. He sat on one end, leaning against the metal beams as he stared at Crutchie’s stolen blanket, his spare clothes, his abandoned cap.

I bet a few months of clean air, you could toss that crutch for good!

Jack drew his knees to his chest. He had promised Crutchie a better life. He had promised an escape to a safer place, a promising home. He gave him the hope that one day, he wouldn’t have to be embarrassed by his bum leg. He promised him Santa Fe.

And now they’d never make it there. Jack despised the concept of living and dying on the less-than-romantic streets of New York, but that’s exactly what Crutchie did. And not only did he never leave New York, he died in the refuge, the worst place Jack could ever imagine.

Drying the tears he hadn’t noticed he’d let fall, Jack grabbed some old papers and his stolen charcoal pencil. If he wasn’t going to sleep, he might as well make use of the full moon.

~~~

“I ain’t sellin’ this,” said Jack, furiously tossing the paper to the ground.

“We don’t have a choice,” said Davey, quickly picking it up and smoothing the crinkles. “And don’t waste papes, Jack. Every cent counts.”

“I don’t give a damn about papes!” Jack yelled.

“None of us do!” Davey placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Not right now.”

“We’s not gonna care about anythin’ right now,” Elmer added, “but we’ve gotta sell papes t’stay alive.”

“‘Newsboy passes peacefully at local rehabilitation centre’?” Finch read the headline from his own stack. “They’s kiddin’, right?”

“Peacefully my ass!” Albert cried. “Crutchie went down fightin’.”

“Exactly,” said Davey, “and we have to keep fighting for him. And the only way to do that is to stay alive.”

“Spot Conlon’s here!” Race announced, running over. He took a look at the headline in Finch’s hand. “Well, at least people gotta face it now.”

“Not everyone.” Spot respectfully removed his cap as he joined the others. “It didn’t even make Brooklyn papes.”

“What?” The question echoed throughout the Manhattan newsies.

“What’re ya sellin’?” Mush asked.

Spot frowned. “‘Trolley strike enters fourth week’.”

The newsies all talked over each other, angrily stating their disbelief.

“Can’t we tell ‘em? The Brooklyn reporters?” Smalls asked.

Spot shook his head. “I tried. Took Hotshot with me an’ went to the office. We didn’t even get a word in before they kicked us out an’ threatened to raise the price of papes even more.”

“I don’t believe this,” said Davey, running a hand through his hair.

“I do,” said Jack, gripping his papers. “Men like them don’t care about kids like us. So one of us dies by Snyder’s hands. They’s gonna ignore it every time, come up with some lie to slap in the papes. But Race is right, at least they gotta face it.”

As the others murmured their agreements and separated, Jack headed for his usual spot. But instead of selling, he turned into an alley and stepped inside Ms Medda’s theatre. Selling papers reminded him too much of Crutchie. He needed to paint something. Specifically, he wanted to paint a bigger version of the sketch he’d done the night before. It was a sketch of Crutchie, grinning from ear to ear and raising his fist into the air, handmade STRIKE banner hanging down his crutch. Crutchie was the most ecstatic about going on strike, and he lifted the other newsies’ spirits when they failed to recruit the other burroughs.

Jack dipped his paintbrush into a can of cinnamon-brown paint and got to work. He left the sketched version in the chest pocket of his apron, close to his heart. When he finished, he left the painting to dry in an unfrequented corner of the theatre. He took off his apron and slipped the sketch into the pocket of his trousers.

When I leave for Santa Fe, he thought, heading back to his selling spot, I’m taking you with me.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

asks (21)

Anonymous said: Hi! Do you still like Tim Drake?

More than I can describe!

Anonymous said: Please tell me those law school quotes are all from one professor

They are not, but MOST of them are from the civ pro professor. His name is Counseller, and he’s great. He got a standing ovation after his speech at my friend’s graduation yesterday. I once went to dinner at his house and a movie afterwards. He had us all hide his candy in our bags so he didn’t have to pay concession stand prices. 

@whambamthanksbatfam​ said: Do you know canonical nicknames for the Batboys?

Hold up lemme see what I have on file

Off the top of my head I can also think of times that Tim referred to himself as “Timmy” (usually while pretty young), and of course Dick has “boy wonder”

Anonymous said: What do you think will happen to nightwing comics? Writer changes in April, will they be able to reverse the amnesia arc? Do you think maybe the damage to the character is irreversible? I don't understand why they'd allow it especially after what happened when they tried to kill him off. It's also 35th anniversary of his first appearance in a few months. Looking at teen titans, jon kent's age, young justice "coming back" I feel concerned for dc comics' future ):

I’m basically taking my usual approach, which is (as far as comics are concerned)... everything will return to its most profitable form. Comics have a set form. With a few key exceptions-- changes in superhero persona, for example-- things generally make their way back to the “classic” form. Therefore I expect Dick to go back to being Nightwing, in a form we would recognize as typically Nightwing. 

Anonymous said: wait..... waitwaitwaitwait..... wait. did u just swear in that hashtag? i have followed you for like 2 years and the closest i've seen to swearing is "sweet texas on high" which ended up becoming a bad habit of mine to say irl and then have to explain where the hell i heard that, and then i said it enough that one friend started saying it as well, then it just spread like a virus in my friend group (this isn't a complaint this is just surprise and amusement. love ur blog!)

Glad to see my nonsense swears are spreading! To be honest, I (really) swear a lot. Don’t tell my mom

Anonymous said: Hey! I have to choose a quote for my yearbook and i want to do a batman/superhero quote but i cant think of one and was wondering if you could help me out? Im looking to go for kinda funny but also has a bit of meaning, ya know? Anyway thank you!

Oooooh boy lemme see

I like Alfred’s quote in these panels. I would also maybe suggest:

"Whenever someone's asked what power they wish they had, flying is always at the top of the list. But I have to admit. I've learned to love falling too." (Nightwing #142, 2008)

I don’t know how helpful I can be on this one, honestly, but there’s my two cents.

night-mom said: Hi, I have a bat-centric side blog called Bat-Losers-Inc. I just discovered some of your writing on tumblr and have been slowly going through it when I have the time. I really love how you write each character of the Batfam and how each of them feels very distinct from each other but also different from their common representations in the Batman fandom. So anyway, I was wondering if you had a favorite Bat family member to write from in terms of point of view/personality?

Hmmmm a couple of years ago, I would have said Jason. For whatever reason, I’ve always given him a talking/fighting style that’s the most similar to my own, but lately I find myself drawn to Tim and Damian. My guess? Their points of view allow me to explore some things I’ve been going through-- specifically a nasty bout of depression, anxiety, and a psychotic breakdown. I would also say that Dick is the hardest for me to write, followed by Bruce, Duke, and Cass. Stephanie is pretty easy. 

Anonymous said: For some reason, I have this huge need of some angst... Could u please do a prompt of suicide Tim? But he manages to success?? Please???

Listen. I’m definitely not going to do that, and I don’t think I need to explain why. 

Anonymous said: I reread some old B&R comics. Bruce came back from his weird time adventures and one of the first things he said to Damian was, that it was his job as Robin to make sure that Batman gets home safe. Like yeah, I guess it is? But also you're talking to your 10 year old son, I'm waiting for that mentality to bite you in the ass at some point. I mean it kind of did when Damian died to save Dick in Batman Inc. Bruce's parenting is really dangerous sometimes o_o

I agree. I’ve always had a problem anytime the Batman/Robin relationship is framed around what Bruce needs. For the benefit of the child? Sure, I’ll suspend belief for that one. Because an adult needs it? No thanks. That’s why Tim’s origin story bothers me a whooooole lot.

@therusticate said: I just read the fanfic you put out around Christmas with the files on Dick and Damien and I MELTED. There were TEARS! I’m hoping to find some more of your work on your blog; I love your writing style and how everything flows. Thank you so much for creating content! You did a fantastic job and I love it.

Oh, thank you so much! I’m particularly fond of that fic

Anonymous said: how's outlining going?

Anonymous said: what is it that you are outlining??

Anonymous said: I hope your outline turns out good and you do well ❤ you can do it!!

@couldnt-pick-a-name said: Have you finished your outlining yet?

Anonymous said: Good luck on your exams!! I hope they go well and you take care of yourself and don't get too stressed

I appreciate you all for keeping me on topic <3

Exams went... probably pretty well? We’ll find out when grades come back. I was outlining for immigration law, federal administrative law, and constitutional law-- and I did get all of them done. Hallelujah. 

Anonymous said: Young Justice 2019 just got published and I realized I haven't consumed enough YJ material!! Do you have any comic recommends??

Oooooh I guess that depends on which Young Justice you’re talking about? Original v. based on TV show? Either way, my recommendation is to look up the associated series. Original YJ (Tim, Bart, Cassie, Conner, etc.) is the 2000 version by Peter David. That team just got a reboot, and I’m reasonably sure that’s what you’re asking about. Then there’s the YJ comic based on the tv show (2011, I believe).

Either way, I like pretty much the entire series. Sounds simple, but that’s my rec. 

@dontstopkiwibea said: I've been thinking about your fic with Damien and Tim having a conversation about Tim's depression and the time when Bruce was missing. I think about all that missing time a lot and how so much /could/ have happened to Tim but didn't. And then I think about Damien being sad when Tim was dead. And then I think about Dick hearing about Tim's mental state during that time, how bad it really got, and maybe Bruce learns too. Ahhhh I don't know about you but I want more fics about Tim and getting help

Honestly? Same. I feel like there’s a lot of emotion that’s never officially explored, and that’s a problem I personally enjoy fixing. 

Anonymous said: You asked for headcanons, so: Damian likes to give Tim a hard time, and one day Damian scoffs at the idea of Tim getting a pet, saying he’d probably kill it through neglect. Tim doesn’t appreciate that and ends up with a goldfish out of spite. He learns everything there is to know, and his fish is gonna thrive, dammit. And it does. Tim comes to genuinely care for this little creature (and secretly Damian is really pleased Tim is showing such interest in something that isn’t casework or WE).

Love it! Give Tim A Fish 2019

Anonymous said: What are you most looking forward to this year?

Hmmmmm... this is maybe a lil over optimistic, but I’m really looking forward to getting better this year. I’m trying harder and I have better resources than I ever had before. 

@xylophonicsynapse said: Which of the bat-kids makes music playlists?

I’d say that all of them DO it sometimes, but the one who really gets into it is Damian. He likes his music organized, thank you very much.

Anonymous said: Hey Amy! Saw the ask about the line "The sun is UP and so is JESUS we are partying today." and I thought it was hilarious I MUST know where its from! Plz and thank you <3

Lmaoooo that was from a post on Easter

[negasonicimagines]

If You Love Someone

THE BITCH IS BACK!!! 

Hey guys, I’m so sorry that I haven’t posted a new imagine in so, so long! Hopefully this makes up for it! I’ll try to get more requests out, soon, I promise!

As you can see, the title is this song by The Veronicas. 

The request I wrote this from is from @wafflesnunicorns and it goes as follows:  “What up dude! long time no ask!! But um do u think u can write a fic where theyve been dating but Eli hasnt quite been able to express her feelings to yn. then when yn is called on a mission Eli cant stop thinkin about her n seein her n SMELLIN her(weird right?)when yn FINALLY gets back Eli just wordlessly bearhugs, sniffs herthen says," you smellgood I love you" Or something awkward and abrupt like that. N yn is blushing and is all like "thanks...I guess..."Im excited to read it!love you!😄! ❤️”

I think I can. You tell me. Thanks so much for the request, sweetheart! 

Ellie hadn’t been dating you for that long, but she was head over heels. It’s hard, though, to express that. She only really feels comfortable expressing anger, annoyance. Rolling her eyes at your sweet words but squeezing your hand tighter, looking down so no one sees her blush. It makes her feel bad to watch your face fall when you think she doesn’t approve, but she tries to make it up to you in little ways, picking pretty wildflowers for you when she sees them and sending you songs that remind her of you.

She comes from photography club to your shared dorm, so the two of you can walk to dinner together, and she finds you packing a bag.

“Where are you going?” It comes out more rude than it should, her brain stopping her from sounding too attached, too clingy, too in love.

“Mission!” You reply cheerily. “Undercover. Gotta join the Brotherhood and see what their next move is.”

“The Brotherhood?!” Ellie squeaks, there was no hiding her worry with that one.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, isn’t it?” you tease her, unsure of the emotion you’re seeing in her reaction.

“It is,” Ellie admits. “Uh, how long?”

“I don’t know. Couple weeks, maybe a month, maybe longer. Depends on how long it takes to earn their trust and find out their next step or two,” you explain, looking too okay with this. Did you not feel the same connection to Ellie, the same need to be around her?

Ellie’s breath halts. A month without you? Possibly longer?

“That’s a while.”

“I guess,” you reply, and the expression that flickers across your face helps her realize what’s going on.

She wishes her mouth would move, to tell you she’ll miss you. That she loves you, too. To tell you that she’s sorry that you don’t know those things for sure.

“We’re gonna be late for dinner,” she instead tells you.

“It’s that time already?” You ask, and she nods curtly.

You walk to dinner together in awkward silence, sitting across from each other while you eat but avoiding eye contact.

On the day you left, you didn’t even look like you. Your hair was styled differently, your makeup (if you wear it) making you appear almost like a stranger. Your clothes were closer in genre to hers, your face darkened in expression to add to the betrayed character you portray.

“I hate you, Charles Xavier!” You shout at the top of your lungs, stomping out of the mansion with bags on your shoulders. Ellie stares out the front door what feels like forever, until a gloved hand she faintly recognizes as Anna’s pulls her further in the house, another student closing the door behind you as you disappear down the driveway, angry swagger still in motion.

I love you. But the words don’t come out.

A few days later, Xavier informs the school of a planned attack from the Brotherhood. After, Ellie slinks over to his chair, moving from shadow to shadow. She’s isolated herself even further, rarely looking up from her phone.

“Our correspondence is limited, Miss Phimister,” Charles tells her before she can even ask. “But Y/N told me to tell you they love you.”

Somehow, that makes it worse. She didn’t say those words to you when she had the opportunity, and now she may never get to. But, hey, at least those would your last words to her?

No! They can’t be. They won’t. Ellie has to tell you.

She trains non-stop over the weeks, for the fight. Just because the school knew of the attack, didn’t meant that it wasn’t still going to happen. The plan was that someone would pretend to knock you out, and they’d take you back. It couldn’t be her, she wouldn’t be able to fake hatred for you.

In the nights, she doesn’t sleep. The two of you had been roommates, and without you in her arms, it’s hard.

Her appetite joins her sleep in the list of things you inadvertently took when you left. All she can think of when she sits in her usual lunch spot is how you’re not there with her, making some shitpost-esque joke she’d pretend she didn’t find absolutely hilarious. Not nagging her about her grade in American Lit, not begging her to play a card game, not there. You might never be there again. And she’ll never have admitted that she loves you more than she’s loved anyone else.

She hasn’t felt this alone since… Since… Since before she knew you.

She’s sitting at the desk in you two’s room, unable to focus on her Biology homework when the alarm goes off. For once, she’s excited at the possibility of an attack on the house.

That’s exactly what it is. Kids in dark clothes like her own storm the place, and she and her classmates clash against them. Pent-up emotion sweeps into her fighting, making her a brutal force.

Someone touches at her shoulder, and she turns, ready to deliver the next blow. It’s you. Her fist pauses just before connecting with your nose.

You hadn’t even flinched. You take her fist in your hands and kiss it gently. She allows herself to fall into you, and you stiffen before sighing, wrapping your arms around her. The fight’s over. The loneliness is over.

The two of you eventually enter the school, oodles of students crowding around you. They’re welcoming you, worried about your safety, things they never did before. You clutch Ellie’s hand tightly, uttering an “I’m fine, thanks,” before taking her to the room you two share.

“That was...A lot,” Ellie says, unsure of what else to say.

“Yeah. I’m gonna go shower,” you reply, seeming a little too perky.

“Wait!” she blurts, grabbing your arm. You jolt, not disguising the flash of pain fast enough.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to grab so hard.” Ellie’s eyes are wide with guilt and emotion, but you shake your head, getting a makeup wipe from the dresser and wiping off your arm. 

A bruise. Ellie looks from it to your face. Repeatedly. It takes a lot for her not to turn to a ball of seething rage, not that she’d give that away.

“Training for the Brotherhood is a little different than training for the X-Men. They don’t play quite as nice.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you laugh it off, and she scowls.

“I’m not sorry for that, even if I do wanna pummel whoever did that. I’m- I’m sorry I haven’t said it yet.”

“It?”

“Yeah, it.”

There’s a flicker of hope in your eyes, but you fake confusion. You’re expecting to be let down, Ellie knows. You’re expecting what she’s made you expect. But, if there’s anything Ellie Phimister is good at, it’s defying expectations. She steps closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your chest, listening to your heart. Thump, thump, thump, thump, in time with the pounding sound she hears in her head in the seconds before she speaks:

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply softly, and she sighs at the same volume.

“You smell nice,” she comments quietly.

“I smell like sweat and dirt and like I got my ass kicked,” you argue with a snicker.

“You also smell like you,” she says almost silently, and you blush, speechless. She pulls away, reading your expression. “That was dumb, wasn’t it? I’m not good at this like you are, Y/N. Don’t think I ever will be.”

“You’re definitely good,” you respond in a squeaky, embarrassed tone. It didn’t take much, especially from the pint-sized girl in front of you, to fluster you. She takes your hand, holding it before raising it and pressing hers flat against it. The two of you inspect them together, you noting the similarities, her noting the differences, mentally. 

As you continue to do so, you’re distracted. The attention being away from her lips gives Ellie the courage to use them, getting on her toes to kiss your cheek. You turn a deep shade of red, and she decides it’s even more worth it to show her affection.

“I love you,” she hesitantly says again, and you beam.

Oh, yeah. So worth it.

[sukisdeliveryservice]

helloo! how was your day milady? its always a pleasure reading your replies too! <333 and i hope you'll enjoy your hiatus :))

also idk i just find parrots rly pretty, and the way the supposedly repeat stuff you say is rly endearing too djhdjfhfb in all honesty, im pretty new to the whole baking thing, but i love making cookies :D they always smell so lovely djfjdjdj i'd love to explore and make more stuff!

you do digital drawing? :o id love to see something! only if you're comfortable sharing though ofc <3

mmm i haven't watched alot of tv shows really tbh. my favourite and the only one im invested in atm is friends, ive watched alittle of modern family and how i met your mother, but that's pretty much it ig jdndjdj

as for movies, i love the greatest showman! it hits a bit too close to home but i always love the goosebumps i get whenever i watch it :) next would be thor ragnorok, which ive mentioned before djjdjs but its just really funny and love it sm, and it was loki's turning point so bonus marks. black widow is also a new favourite <333 though i felt terrible when they were being tortured as kids, but it really showed a new perspective on natasha and her past. i also really like the notebook! everything was so sweet it rly nearly brought me to tears jsbdjdjjsh and finally the shawshank redemption! it was something i didn't rly think i would like, but i was really pleasantly surprised lmao. everything was pretty depressing but it also kinda blew my mind away :D

for songs, my no.1 song rn is nct dream's irreplaceable, idk why exactly but i love that song. i also have a thing for songs that are similar genres to baekhyun's un village, nct jaehyun's try again and jungkook's still with you, so those are three more though im not really sure if they're really the same genre anyways and its been almost a year now and i still cant get over how nct 127's boom makes me feel 💕

hmm for fics, i dont really remember everything i read, but i absolutely loved your ceo cheol fic 🥺 it was so cute and the way reader and cheol work perfectly together T-T most of the time fics like these consist of cold bosses who only show a little warmth to the reader, but cheol was so sweet throughout everything it just made everything so much more adorable and endearing. i really really loved it :'D <333

what are your top 5 of these? and also for the next question, have you ever

been to a concert?

sneaked out from your house?

gone through a one direction and/or bts phase?

had a crush?

had a pet?

performed in front of a crowd?

read a book/fic that you love so much you still think of it occasionally? (yes im asking for recs)

- 💎 anon who loves you lots!! <333

milady?? heh you sound like chat noir from miraculous ladybug (my guilty non guilty pleasure show) i was thinking carefully about these answers thats why it took so long!! i'm going to go to bed after this is posted hehe this is gonna be a long reply so take all the time you need to answer pfft- my day has been lovely thanks to this ask by the way!!

yeah i'd love to show you something!! there were a couple burried in my rambling tags but when we're allowed to turn off anon i'd love to show you!! do you have discord btw?? it might be easier to talk on there afterwards!!

ooh how i met your mother is probably my favourite sitcom!! maybe that and b99. its pretty long and the ending was erm...not good imo but i still think the long length was worth finishing!!

the movies you picked are lovely anon!! i am also a fan of the greatest showman since i am also a big fan of musicals!! it was pretty fast paced but overall the grandeur and visuals of it stunned me and the sountrack is amazing!! i haven't watched black widow but hopefully soon!! and i dont usually watch a lot of western films but i really want to check out the notebook as well!!

ahh your music taste is also exquisite!! so im guessing you're more into like soft pop/rnb kinds of songs!! i definitely listen to baekhyun's music before sleeping since his vocals really suit soothing songs. i really need to check out more of nct's music - hello future was really good!!

OMG ANON YOU READ MY CHEOL FIC??? i was so unsure about that one but it makes my heart squeeze that you read all of it and liked it :'D

okie so my top 5 (no particular order) i'm probably forgetting a few

tv shows - 1. HUGE atla fan!! i even liked legend of korra even though some poeple didn't 2. how i met your mother 3. horimiya 4. extraordinary you 5. yona of the dawn

movies - 1. your name 2. big hero 6 3. tangled 4. weathering with you 5. from up on poppy hill - literally any ghibli i've watched

books (sorry lots of these are manga) - 1. fruits basket 2. haikyuu!! 3. SNOW WHITE WITH THE RED HAIR (IT'S MY FAVOURITE EVERYTHING) 4. to all the boys i've loved before (it's very different from the movies) 5. i don't mean to bring up percy jackson since it's been years but those books are still everything to me

songs - 1. eight (iu, suga) 2. all my love (svt) 3. kidult (svt) 4. dandelions (ruth b) 5. somehow (day6)

thank you for asking anon! i loved listing these out! next to the never have i ever!!

been to a concert? NEVER!! waiting for svt to come to canada, they didn't list canada for ode to you :(((

sneaked out from your house? NEVER i've sneaked people into my house...

gone through a one direction and/or bts phase? I HAVE! bts but it was only for like a month before i fell in love with 13 men...

had a crush? soobin duh i'm beginning to realize now that maybe i've been more in love with the idea of love instead of harbouring genuine feelings // NEVER!!

had a pet? I HAVE!! multiple fishes...rip

performed in front of a crowd? I HAVE!! i've played the drums during school concerts and during a competition a few years back!!

read a book/fic that you love so much you still think of it occasionally?

for this last one i'm going to tie it in into my top 5 fics of all time!! (with mini reviews!!) i should make a masterlist of my recs honestly - when i compile all of my favourites i think that's when i've be brave enough to tag the writers fjdshfdkj

out of touch, out of time by @/by-moonflower // i read this months ago and my heart literally still sinks whenever it even crosses my mind. i don't think i've ever been so emotionally impacted by a fic before and this is my go to rec for anyone who wants to FEEL something. i don't wanna go in depth as to spoil it, so i'll just leave it at that for now.

outlasting the universe by @/by-moonflower // you know what i'm just gonna link their entire masterlist because all of their works (even the short drabbles) are just literary masterpieces. the way they write makes you feel so alive?? and everything just speaks for itself and is so authentic. they make you feel like you're wandering amidst a ghibli film, periof. authentic is the best word i can use to describe their work and this fic is just the definition of beautiful.

bluff and nonsense by @/thepixelelf // THIS FIC. it's my go to rec overall. it was so memorable had such good flow and just genuinely so genuine?? i have no other words to describe it, it's just so ,,, lovely. the plot takes you on a journey and it's woven together so seamlessly.

in a span of three months by @/viastro // i won't be surpprised if you've read this one already because this author is a true staple in the carat writing community and honestly all of their works are simple timeless. this one really hit the mark for the me the most though and i finished it all in one sitting.

wish by @chocosvt // goodness i'm a fan of hoshi fics aren't i? this one was also really memorable for me and i have read it several times!! friends to lovers but they really made the trope their own and added lots of twists and tadbits that gave it so much charm!! i would also rec this as a starter fic for svt :))

phew thank you for reading all of that anon, i really appreicate you taking the time to write such love responses and questions. now i'd like to know your answers for the same questions ,,, have you ever:

been to a concert?

sneaked out from your house?

gone through a one direction and/or bts phase?

had a crush?

had a pet?

performed in front of a crowd?

read a book/fic that you love so much you still think of it occasionally?

to add on:

been to a place/been in a particular mood after a specific event that you wanted to stay in forever?

written a piece of work that sparked energy within your fingertips!!

met a person/have someone in your life who you now just treasure so deeply?

this is getting super long we need to reveal our identities soon fkdsfkjlds

[mingyubias]

& i know this is ?? like a month late?? idk but !! someone way back when asked me about my hevie/descendants hcs/thoughts so i’ve decided to make a lil list that i’ll most likely add on to as time goes by and i get more info

first of all, i like to completely disregard the sugar coating that disney put on the entire series. for example, their lives on isle would’ve been grittier and much more cruel than what was depicted in the movies ( and somewhat the books ). i personally see all of their parents as emotionally and mentally Abusive ( bc they definitely are?? and melissa’s account of it def made more sense than .. disney’s igvfdn ).

also i like to imagine them? older? because i just cant personally relate to teens anymore so i see them as like 19 in my mind when im reading fics and the like ( especially since the ones ive read have hevie as sexually active ).

i really and truly dislike mal based both on her actions in the first novel and how she behaved in the films ( a lot of people haven’t read the books, but to sum it up, she spent 3/4 of the first novel tormenting evie first in a petty way and then in two (2) seperate life-threatening ways ). this has left me feeling completely cold towards mal and unable to sympathize with her in her tantrum in d2.

now, though i feel this way about mal, i can completely understand why evie wouldnt. it is literally written that evie brought out the best in people ( “The princess possessed a darling giggle that was so entrancing, it brought a smile to haughty Lady Tremaine’s face [...] The ferocious tiger Shere Kahn was practically purring like a contented kitten. And for old time’s sake, Captain Hook bravely stuck his head between Tick Tock’s open jaws, if only so he could make her laugh and hear that lovely peal again. The princess, it would seem, could make even the most horrible villain smile.” ) even when evie ass KNEW mal was planning something and despised her, she STILL did her best to give her the benefit of the doubt i? ? ? ?  ??  ??? ? ? a tru queen

i didn’t read rise of the isle of the lost so i’m not 110% sure how harry is characterized in the books, but uhh id die for him ..

and i also dont? think he and mal ever had a thing lol .. just bc thomas and dove are dating that doesnt mean they gotta add in an unnecessary plotpoint ( especially considering how it’s canon in both the books and the movies that mal’s never had a boyfriend before ben .. *eyeball emoji* ) so uhh miss me with that

and i know that hevie is? a crackship? so dont come to me with “hevie aint canon” like huney i know but theres also no canon evidence negating the possibility either

ok so on to the actual hevie hcs .. cos i think about them a lot vfjdnokm

she is 10/10 the one who showed him how to do the scary pirate eyeliner thing ok but in my mind it started out much cleaner so it was just yk liner but then after scrubbing at his eyes so much ( thanks, salty ocean air ) it just became easier to leave it messy

the blue bandana he wears under his hat ? evie’s. kinda like how knights used to wear the colors of their wives/betrothed w/e its like a subtle claim and him making a lowkey gesture and im Weak over it tbh

captain hook ? loves her .. not only because she clearly has Some clout on the isle, espcially since apparently her momma and maleficent are friends now ( ?? idk disney makin shit up ) so hes like ((:: well !! but on the other hand .. evie is just a generally good person and she makes harry happy and shes charming and beautiful and genuine?? ya i see him really vouching for her ( especially since i dont really consider captain hook a real? villain? ig? he just wanted revenge on the immortal brat who literally Sliced Off His Hand and Fed it to a Crocodile ??? ) so !! ya

evil queen def dont approve but uhh what she doesnt know wont hurt her ..

i dont see her getting along with uma like she does so much in a lot of the fics, though, mostly because i feel like uma would resent her at least a little for basically being the person mal replaced uma with, so .. also for snatching half of harry’s time ( cant have a first mate who’s more loyal to someone else than his captain ). i also don’t see harry and uma as a couple, mostly because i imagine she’s at least a few years younger than him .. like everyone else felt older than they were in the movies, but uma def gave off 17 y/o vibes to me ( so did carlos but hes a lil baby and i love him )

that said, she’d get along really well with gil tho cos shes so kind and understanding and i dont see her getting so easily annoyed with him like everyone else does. not to mention she was .. sorta? friends with his older brothers in the first book so vinjdkm. quasi sister for that boi

theres a lot less interference between the vks and the pirates than you’d think? mostly because they keep it a secret from drama queen mal ( cos in my mind, carlos and jay prolly know cos i uhh trust them with info like this ) though i feel like itd especially put a strain on her relationship with jay since he dont like harry and he was friends with mal first so ..

a loooot of quiet moments in his cabin on uma’s ship .. just enjoying each other’s company on his hammock, slowly rocking back and forth, her probably playing with his fingers cos damn

just as many arguments tho cos theyre both hot headed and their personalities clash like a motherfucker honestly like ?? a ton of banter and low-blow comments that end in heated silence until evie cracks and apologizes or harry slowly grins and they kiss and make up wow i love my kiddos

10/10 see him climbing a trellis like a better version of romeo like vbifbhcjndm wherefore art thou, harry hook? bgvfnj anyways ya i see it very vividly in my mind, especially when theyre first getting to know each other .. like they have whispered conversations on her crumbling balcony and in her mind shes like “why does he seem so familiar????” and hes like “wow who IS this girl” and its cute and silly and he teases her the whole time and she teases right back wow !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

deep ass conversations under the stars about what they’d be doing if they were free to go wherever they want .. him talking about sailing the seas as a captain of his own ship and making a name for himself and she realizes as time passes that princes? dont seem very important to her anymore ?? and the more he talks about how wide and vast the ocean is the more appealing it become for her and she begins wishing he’d take her with him sighs

her initiating their first kiss cos uhh pirate or not hes like .. shes a Princess theres no way theres anything between us .. right ?? but obviously she likes him smh silly boy and she rolls her eyes and is like “when are you gonna kiss me?” and he stares at her for a sec before grinning like the roguish pirate he is and doing just that & its surprisingly gentle and uhh reverent BYE

evie willingly kissing him even tho it smear her perfectly applied lipstick ((:: and as an add on to that, evie letting him turn her into a disheveled mess after a thorough makeout session, hair all tangled, lipstick smeared, clothes wrinkled ihbvfnjdm and she lk loves it cos he clearly thinks shes still drop dead gorgeous without all the theatrics her mom ingrained into her mind that she needed to be beautiful ((:: i live and breathe for the acceptance !! wow !!

the angst .. when she goes to auradon .. wow ...... im actually so hurt by it ???? and i def see harry feeling abandoned sighs rip in peace my happy kiddos say hi to pain and suffering (:

doug ? is not a love interest in my mind .. sorry kid .. ur a good friend tho <3 and evie is in auradon watching mal maybe get her happily ever after and evie’s lowkey bitter abt it but obiously doesnt show it cos uhh shes here to love and support her ugli friend !!

harry being a Broody Mess and it making him seem more malicious and vile than before .. easier to enrage, quicker to react .. yk, harry in the movie !

but at the same time !! hes juggling uma’s i-told-you-so’s and trying to find a way to prove himself to his father and wishing evie hadn’t ever left and it being .. no fun at all for him esp with gil muttering about how he wishes evie were around and making the whole situation Worse smh

at the confrontation ohh god !! not the big one with everyone and the wand but before when they took ben ??? damn his eyes RAKED up and down her trying to assess if she was happier without him or if she felt even a little bit of what he did and getting angry when she gets angry over him taking ben i ??!!

evie sneaking away to confront harry personally over it and them getting into a shouting match and leaving things unresolved and WORSE than they’d been before ughhhhh

then ........ few months later boi gets an invite to come to auradon ... color him Surprised over that .. he almost refuses but he thinks of the ship he’s always wanted and quickly packs up his cabin like a second later

evie  mentally considering taking harry off the list initially but then remembers that its his only gd chance to get away from the damn isle and out on the sea like he always dreamed & knowing she cant take that chance away from him just cos shes scared to see him again

that got away from me and felt more like fanfic plotting ... but uhh harry being the one who taught her to swordfight cos lbr who else couldve ? jay didnt carry one around until auradon and as far as i know evie didn’t have any sort of fencing lessons ( especially since it was a big deal for lonnie to have been on the team ). so !!

he also taught her a handful of other self-defense maneuvers beyond running and potions that never worked correctly on the isle cos uhh its a shady ass place and hes Worried about her

also he 10/10 calls her princess anyone who disagrees is free to do so but theyre wrong

she repairs his coat All The Time cos boy is always in need of patching up smh BUT she sewed her lil heart with a crown on the inside of his coat right next to where it lays over his heart cos uhh she loves him pce

him bringing her pretty seashells and trinkets he got from the salvage ships .. things like faded gold earrings and necklaces when one time he shows up with this tiny little shard of blue seaglass thats worn into the shape of a heart and she immediately makes it a charm for a bracelet & treasure it above all the other things she has lol !

them being 200% supportive of each other in general and loving one another despite the odds against them??? harry literally willing to risk everything for her ?? her honestly getting tired of hiding him and pretending she doesnt like him and one day just blurting it out to mal and bein like “if you dont like it then that’s just too bad for you” and walking out head held high but deep down freaking the FUCK out bihfnjde and harry being So Proud of her and willing to legitimately fight mal if she gives her shit over it bgvihfnj wow i just .. i just love them so much ..

[crossnecklace]

hi hi hi! so i feel like a lot of my most favorite fics dont get talked about much, therefore i wanted to create a proper fic rec masterpost to spread the love!! this is going to be a looooong list, so hopefully theres something for everyone (though i do firmly believe u should read every single one of these before u die)

in no particular order, but a * indicates my absolute faves that i reread monthly:

hats off to my distant hope by navigator (21k) *

Harry is in White Eskimo. Louis is in London.

AU loosely inspired by the song “505” by Arctic Monkeys.

-kicking this off with one of my very favorites. i think my favorite trope is when hl have this angsty “we’re not dating but definitely fucking and also doing everything couples do also i’m irrevocably in love with you why aren’t we dating?” sort of moment. its painful in the sweetest way, and this fic captures that perfectly. there will be quite a few of those on this list, i’ll bet

up the long delirious burning blue by orphan_account (6k)

harry is a swimmer & louis is the writer who somehow manages to make him come up for air. 

-this one is quite sad. so poetic and painful and lovely and unf (warning for mentions of suicide and depression, and the ending is quite ambiguous but there is no MCD)

we wreak havoc with out hearts by flimsy (9k)

Harry finds that he can’t keep things separate; neither can Louis.

Harry tousles his hair, smoothes it back, shrugging. 

“Alright,” he says. “I’m, you know, outside if you need anything.” 

“Yeah,” Louis replies. “Sure.” 

He doesn’t look like he’ll be needing Harry, and Harry tells himself that that’s okay. They’ve both got their moods sometimes or maybe the timing isn’t good, and if it’s not then that’s alright as well. Harry can respect that. And it’s not like this is their first tour; Harry knows that Louis will come around. He always does.

-another one of those w that trope i talked about. im gonna call it the RFWB trope (romantic friends w benefits). this one is so hot and good

rather this than live without you by mediaville (10k) *

Harry decides to give it all up. Louis refuses to be left behind.

-RFWB pt. 3. i ADORE this fic. just the setting and the angst and the smut ugh it all has me on the floor

one day to believe in you by mediaville (7k) 

A mysterious force compels Louis to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Even when it’s really inconvenient.

Harry blinks and has the nerve to look surprised. 

“You think about me when you get off?”

“Yes,” Louis says. He wonders how hard he’d need to punch himself in the face to knock himself out.

“Often?”

“Yes, Christ, Harry,” Louis groans. “Probably eight times a week for going on six years now. On average, you know. More when we were touring, less when I’ve been visiting family. Anything else you’d like to know?”

- :-)))))))

all my love was down in a frozen ground by navigator (16k)

Louis goes to the woods. 

AU very loosely inspired by the creation of Bon Iver’s first record.

-i’ll be honest i dont even remember what this fic is about but its in my bookmarks and its by navigator so i know that its good

boys of summer by sharktoothedfawnskinned (49k) *

What he wants is for this to be a forever thing, not someplace Harry spent the summer once.  What he wants is for this to be more than a memory.

(New Jersey beach town AU.) 

- I SCREAM EVERY TIME READ THIS RIGHT NOW 

we should get jerseys by orphan_account (12k) *

There’s a lot surrounding Harry, and Louis knows, in his heart of hearts, that there always will be. He just doesn’t know if he’ll manage to equate into the ‘always’ of it.

(Harry is a hockey player, and Louis is his slightly melodramatic boyfriend.)

- another old favorite!!! pretty much anything that involves harry being good at sports has me on my knees bc it paves way for automatic angst, louis being jealous of a puck/ball/net/what have you, and uhhh various other *athletic* activities

the finish line (is a good place for us to start) by @loaded-gunn (122k)

Louis Tomlinson, one-time Formula 1 World Champion, is looking forward to the 2013 season. He’s got Zayn in his garage and Liam in his ear, he’s got Cowell Racing backing him despite former indiscretions, he’s got experience and the best race car out there. Not to mention he’s the only racer they have, after Oliver dropped out late last year.

It hasn’t occurred to him that Oliver would have to be replaced by February. That is, until he finds himself at a party celebrating Harry Styles leaving Ferrari for Cowell. Harry hotshot Styles, who broke a record last year and is probably looking to make a big splash. Harry Styles, who is talented and somewhat intimidating. Harry Styles, who left Ferrari for reasons unknown and seems kind of lonely and harmless in person. Lonely, harmless, hot as fuck. Whatever.

The first thing Louis does is take him under his wing. From there it’s nine months of slow-burning romance, the past catching up to them, turning into the human puppy pile that is OT5 and a lot of feelings until, of course, reaching the finish line.

-one of the first 1d fics i remember reading. i havent touched it in a long time but it used to be my #1 fave and it has a special place in my heart. so much pining, only not really in a frustrating way bc theres abundant flirting and they kiss in like, the second scene. its basically louis trying to keep his shit together and failing miserably. AND its stuffed with fandom meta which is quite entertaining if youve been here for awhile. anyway give this a read, i truly love it so much

so keep my candle bright by whisperdlullaby (78k) *

louis returns to his hometown after four years to find that the reverend’s son has done some growing up of his own.

-god. the characterization in this one is just gorgeous. the way louis helps harry accept/explore his sexuality is so beautiful and i think about it every day. a must read!!! (warning for homophobia and religious themes)

no one like you by @myownsparknow (20k)

Dear Niall,

I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

-this is one of the only recent fics on this list bc i like to stew in the past and pretend all my favorite writers havent left the fandom. i read it when it first came out and man oh man, its like poetry. so gorgeously written, and hl’s relationship is so deeply rooted and beautiful. i love

our little corner of the world by brownheadedstranger (30k)

AU. Louis is stuck in his mom’s diner for the summer. Harry is the line cook with a pickup truck.

-so good!! i’d die for americanized fics which doesnt even make sense bc i hate america but. what can u do 

i could dream all night by @fondleeds (73k) *

As the sun kisses the horizon, one last flash of light before the stars and the moon take over, his phone will brighten in his grasp, Louis’ name appearing on screen, come over or wanna see you or miss your mouth. Harry always lingers on those messages, elbows bruising on the cool metal of the railing by the lookout, watching the water as he thumbs at the side of his phone, lips bitten into his mouth, trying to will away the bubbling in his stomach, the heat that flushes to his neck at the thought of being thought of.

At the thought of Louis thinking of him.

AU. Harry spends his summer away from the city.

-lordt. where the fuck do i begin. first of all, lysha, if ur reading this, i’d die for u even tho u already killed me with this fic. second, what the fuck???? this is so good??? the imagery is exquisite, everything is so soft and hazy and warm, but just be warned that its a tRick. this fics wraps u in like a warm hug and then stabs u 7 times in the back so be prepared :-))) (warning for ambiguous ending)

another hazy may by deLILAh (41k) *

louis is a terrible poet and harry lives in the now and they have six weeks to fall in love but, really, it only takes six seconds. bookshop meets military meets summer romance au ft. marlboros, the backstreet boys, and underrated literary devices.

-i dnot even wanna talk about it. i swear to god the first time i read this i stayed up all night and cried through literally like the last three quarters of it. its so poetic and gorgeous and now every time i think or hear about the literary present i wanna die so thanks for scarring me forever 

like a bastard on the burning sea by vashtaneradas (22k) *

au; harry breaks louis, louis breaks everything.

- listen i know im not supposed to like this but yknow what?? iconic. its absolutely a guilty pleasure and the only cheating fic ill ever give the time of day bc it just hurts so good 

take me to the church (series) by @kingsoftheimpossible (14k/6k/4k)

Harry and Louis are Horsemen of the Apocalypse- War and Conquest- but that’s not really important. They just like to fuck things up.

these r freaky but so so good. theres nothin i love more than boyfriends wreaking havoc on..everything. (the main warnings i’d say are for slight gore/violence and blasphemy. other than that i’d read the tags before you dive in)

if you love me, come clean by @victoryjacket​ (121k) *

AU in which Louis works at a recording studio where Harry’s ‘up and coming’ and ‘exciting’, soon-to-be famous indie band has just signed a deal to record their debut album at, and Louis’ never even heard of them for Christ’s sakes, but that doesn’t stop him from repeatedly catching the eye of the raven-haired, eyeliner-wearing and slightly dangerous-looking frontman (but he’s not interested, he isn’t.)

-everyone read my love’s fic right now. she writes tortured rockstar!harry beautifully and its just so good :-))))) ft. the slowest, sweetest burn 

a runaway american dream by dangerbears (15k)

AU. they take route 66 with only each other and their secrets.

-iconic. plus the whole thing is just hl trying and failing to be just bro pals and platonically share a bed

from the love to the lightning by orphan_account (22k) *

“i didn’t realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. because it’s the halves that halve you in half.”

 a like crazy au where harry and louis fall in america, but have to try to make it work when problems arise that force louis to stay in london.

-definitely in my top 10. first things first, the line that fucked me up forever: “Three thousand, four hundred and seventy one. There are 3471 miles and an entire ocean between them, but Harry doesn’t even have to get out of bed to find bone-crushing heartache.” AH. i think this might actually be the only long distance au ive ever read and its angsty as fuck but oh so worth it. like literally idek what to say except read this right now (warning for harry/ofc relationship that is pretty detailed, but i grew kinda fond of her? and anyway its mainly just a plot point to emphasize harrys pining for his tru love,,,,yk who) 

we can take the long way home by @eleadore (27k) *

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

or, The band takes a break. Harry and Louis come together.

-listen, i REALLY REALLY love this fic. its probably literally my favorite one shot, like, its really just so sweet and hot and its again one of those good ol RFWB tropes. loveeee

red brick heart by hazmesentir (99k) *

Harry has only had his room for thirty-two minutes when it stops being his.

Uni AU. Harry had turned up at the halls of residence expecting fun, new friends, and maybe a life experience or two. What he doesn’t expect is a surprise roommate who’s loud and dramatic and obsessed with tea and is maybe, actually, all he’s ever wanted.

-this is one of the few fandom faves i can get behind. i know its got that early era cliche of commitment phobe!louis but i really love hl’s relationship in this, and how harry comes to terms w his sexuality via making out w louis tomlinson like 500 times. plus the scene in the club where louis, uh, helps harry out just…GETS me, yknow? 

some things take root by navigator/quitter (50k) *

AU. Louis’ ex doesn’t get jealous of anyone besides Harry. Harry helps Louis use that to his advantage.

-pleasepleplalspelplseease. literally navigator can end me. this is THE fake relationship au yall, like, any fanart of hl making out near a bar gives me flashbacks to this fic. read it

keep yourself warm by navigator (20k)

AU. Harry sleeps around.

-this fic is really nice and oddly comforting, like, i just love the pining and the angst. its so !!!! 

with love comes strange currencies by mediaville (16k) *

One day One Direction will be over and Louis won’t be around Harry every waking moment. He’ll be able to finally get some space, let their bond dissipate as it’s bound to do, if they don’t mess up again. He can move to Costa Rica and forget that Harry Styles popped his first knot inside him. Until then, he’s going to have to deal with this.

or, They’re Accidentally Mated and Dealing With It Rather Badly.

-i con ic. listen, i have nothing against abo but im just .. not rly into it. however, THIS is the first abo fic i read and the only one i ever loved. like just the whole accidental mating and how it draws them to each other even tho its quite inconvenient, and how h takes cares of l when hes sick, i just..gotta go 

covered in lines (series) by mentalistecbm (24k)

He likes to imagine that he’s always aware of Harry’s eyes on him, but the spark that flashes across his body at how often Harry licks his lips while looking at his throat doesn’t feel like something he’s explicitly and consciously acknowledged before, but it feels familiar. Usual. Right.

(Louis is human, and Harry is lucky enough to be his vampire boyfriend.)

-noah fence but this is,,,, essentially twilight in au form, minus love triangles and werewolves. actually its completely different lmao, who am i, but the overall atmosphere and the vampire dynamics rly reminded me of it. i mean it in the best way!!! its so good, and anything involving dr*nking has me on the floor

weird honey by orphan_account (5k)

~staying up all night, talking blasphemous ash, weird honey~ 

(PWP where Harry is not 100% at home in his body and he and Louis use a sex toy to help work through the problem)

-this fic is soft and nice and makes me feel warm inside so highly recommend

who painted the moon black by throughthedark (95k) *

“People died,” Harry whispers so quietly Louis strains to hear. “People died, and I killed some of them. How does life just go on after something like that?”

Louis shakes his head. “I don’t know. It just does.”

Hunger Games AU where Louis Tomlinson is district six’s victor from the 69th Hunger Games and Harry Styles is district seven’s victor from the 72nd Hunger Games.

-listen. i do NOT want to talk about it. (ps harry throwing axes on the bbc literally  took me out by the knees bc of this fic)

one more for the stars by imsosorry (16k)

It’s different, and Louis knows that, because Harry’s got so much riding on this - a career and a future and his whole life. There’s talk of him going first overall in the draft, of entering the NFL after only two years in college, of going to New York or Seattle or Green Bay, and Louis wants to be there for him, wants to support him and help him make decisions, but he also kind of wants to pin him to the bed and cry and scream, What about me what about me what about me?

(au. Harry’s the star quarterback and Louis is about to graduate. It’s a heartbreak waiting to happen.)

-i think i mentioned before that sports au have me on the floor and this is no excpetion 

you and me were kings by ithacas (28k) *

harry plays football in a small town in west texas. louis might be the only person that doesn’t give a damn. au.

-another football au, this one with the added beauty of being set in southern us. im such a sucker for southern aus, mannnn, and this one is so soft and beautiful

hold onto your stars by vashtaneradas (16k) *

au; harry’s in the army, louis’ back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.

-are u srs????? this is another hazy may except…….Worse. like, im still working out the science of it but im pretty sure this killed me and brought me back to life just so i could suffer the pain of it forever. (nobody dies tho)

makes perfect by checkthemargins (8k)

“What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?” Louis presses. “Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don’t know, a pillow or something. Whatever it’d fit around.”

Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. “It’s different, though, innit? When it’s a real person. A pillow won’t snog me.”

“Why should it?” says Louis. “You can’t even take its bra off.”

hmmmm. hmmmmmmmm. im jus gonna leave this here,,,,,,,,,

all the diamonds you have here by vashtaneradas (21k) 

it hits louis now, how fucking close to the precipice they’re standing. 

or, an au feat. investment banking and children.

-its #confirmed that anything by vashtaneradas is guaranteed to be painful as hell. who said there cant be soul crushing angst in marriage/kid fics too ! 

wild and unruly by @100percentsassy/gloria_andrews (123k) *

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

-ending this with a classic. i trust that everyone has read this masterpiece already and that i dont have to say anything about it other than w o w 

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tis all for now! happy reading and pleaseee feel free to yell @ me about these fics if you liked them as much as i did!!