#like they just up and decide to play songs they’ve never ever done live before

[emopunkwhojustlovestheirdog]

as if the eras tour surprise song anxiety wasn’t enough fall out boy decided to pick random songs for THEIR tour and honestly the magic 8 ball songs are giving me more anxiety then the surprise songs ever did you just never know what they’ll decide to do next—

[jakekiszkasleftnutsack]

Don’t Talk to Strangers

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

Summary: It’s been five months since your particularly rough split from your ex, it’s time to open up and get back into the dating scene.  Take a chance on the intimidating stranger in the bar.  It won’t backfire at all. 

Warnings: 18+ GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, mentions of mental illness and emotional trauma, manipulation, alcohol consumption, swearing, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (don’t!), oral sex (m and f receiving), degradation, bondage, impact play, overstimulation

W/c: 8.3k

A/n:  In honor of the Omaha show, I’ve decided to make my triumphant return! know that this took a million years but I’ve been having a tough time mentally and that’s made it hard to write, but now I’m back!! This version of dom!Jake is the only thing that made it through the fog, even if he’s not for everyone.  We are shamelessly self-indulgent yet again, so sorry if not everything resonates with you!  Thanks for bearing with me and thanks to everyone that’s been supportive and contributed!  All feedback is appreciated! 

Edited by @whatsonott

Theme Song: Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge

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A dark bar isn’t the kind of place you’d pick for a first date, especially not a blind date. You would be much more comfortable going to a nice dinner, grabbing a cup of coffee, or really anything that could be done in broad daylight would be closer to your wheelhouse. You’d prefer to keep things easy and casual when dating a new person, but you let your date pick the place as an effort to force yourself out of your shell.  

This was a dumb idea, you think, trying to ignore the churning in your guts as you lock your car and approach the nightclub, heels clicking against the pavement. 

You need this. Just keep telling yourself that and everything will turn out fine.

Anxiety is something you’ve been working on handling with your therapist since your breakup a few months ago, as it’s become a prominent part of everything you do. It’s been instilled in your thoughts by your ex, who would constantly tell you how you could afford to go to the gym more or be a little more like some of his friends' girlfriends.  

You tried your best to change yourself for him and fit the mold he wanted you to contort yourself into, but it was never enough for him. It didn’t surprise you when you found out he was sleeping with someone else, and it created a mountain of self-doubt standing between you and your apartment doorway every time you tried to meet your friends for a drink or enjoy the things you used to love doing. 

Before your ex, you were the belle of the ball in bars just like this one. Almost every weekend you had mediocre men begging to buy you drinks late into the night. Being on your own again, it’s not been so simple. Staying out until 2 am, flirting with strangers, the thrill of the chase, that’s a thing of the past. In fact, not one man has made it into your bed since the last time you and your ex messed around. 

Why you put up with his shit for so long, letting him keep you from living your life how you wanted is still a mystery to this day. He really was sweet and charming in the beginning, but most narcissists are. They lure you in with what you want to see and feel. Then once you are comfortable, start to manipulate your feelings and every aspect of your life. Leaving you feeling hopeless if they were ever to leave you because that’s what they’ve trained you to feel. Or at least, that’s what you’ve learned in the five months since you left him. You’ve been coming to terms with the fact that seeing him between another woman’s legs was the push you needed to get rid of him, traumatic as it was. Coming out from the misery of living in his shadow is more than liberating. 

The last couple of weeks have been all about going with the flow, as an assignment from your therapist. She told you to live in the moment, don’t take things so seriously, and let life happen like you used to. Emerging from the misery of living in his shadow is more than liberating, but easier said than done. You’ve taken every opportunity you can find to take a step slightly outside of your comfort zone and only hated it about half the time, only to be fantasizing over glimpses of your previously joyful self. A blind date is the kind of thing that the old y/n wouldn’t so much as bat an eye at, so agreeing to it seemed like no big deal in hindsight. Even now, perched on a barstool in a tight little dress you’ve always told yourself you don’t have the body for, you feel stronger on your own than you ever did with your sad excuse of an ex. Which in the moment feels pretty fucking good, although you’re trying to keep yourself from visibly shaking with fear.

Progress is still progress, even if it is slow or doesn’t look like much from the outside. Wounds don’t heal overnight. 

You weren’t necessarily ready to start dating yet and this was just some random guy that your best friend thought would be perfect for you. Tonight's blind date is part of her long-winded plan to get you two together after she wore you down for weeks about accepting her proposal. Nevertheless, she’s proven to be trustworthy and a great judge of character, and she did try to ease your nerves by showing you his Facebook profile. He seemed decent enough, but nothing special.

Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you were lonely, sex-deprived and could use a quick fuck. Though your standards are the highest they’ve ever been since surviving the ghost of boyfriends past, you were becoming more and more desperate. So after going through all the worst-case scenarios in your head of potentially being rejected or kidnapped, you ultimately decided to give it a shot. What more could you lose? 

That’s how you wound up here, in a dark club on a Sunday night, where and when your date had suggested you meet up. Should have been the first red flag. 

In the ten minutes since you’d arrived, your date is yet to show his face.  The clock on your phone read 10:32 pm. You were even running a little late and had sent a text to let him know, assuming he was there and waiting for you already.  But there was no response. He hasn’t even read the message.

Maybe something happened? He probably walked in, saw me, and left. I knew this outfit looked fucking ridiculous on me. 

“What can I get you?” You snap your head to look in the direction of the voice startling you from your thoughts, but soften your expression when you realize it’s only a smiling bartender and not your very tardy potential hookup.  

“Vodka cranberry, please.” You smile politely. 

The bartender nods and turns to make your drink and you take this opportunity to look over the room. The bar is mostly dark, illuminated by a strobe light or two by the DJ booth and dim golden twinkling lights adorning the coves of tables that sit along the edges. Some sort of heavy psychedelic dance music bumps through the sea of bodies, moving them like a hive mind in sync with the rhythm. The atmosphere is euphoric, almost as if everyone there is sharing the same beautiful high. 

Glaring you in the face is the realization that everyone there is stunningly gorgeous and suddenly you feel severely out of place. 

Once the bartender hands you your drink, you take a sip and say a quick ‘thank you’ leaving a few crumpled bills on the bar. 

Your eyes hop from one large round booth to the next where fancy people are having intimate conversations at their secluded spots along the darkened back wall of the bar, while you are just searching for a familiar face. Hoping for a moment that maybe your date had snagged a quiet spot for the both of you before you arrived. Instead, your attention lands on one booth in particular where, if your eyes don't deceive you, the most beautiful man on earth is staring you down like you owe him money. In that moment, you are frozen, unable to move.

His eyes are narrowed and trained on you intently, despite having a scarcely dressed woman on either side of him. One slender blonde that’s much taller than him and one curvy brunette that seems to have her hand buried beneath the waistband of his pants. He’s not paying attention to them the slightest bit, despite how they’re hanging on him like Christmas ornaments.

It’s you that his eyes are piercing into, assaulting you in a way. His lashes fan as he looks you over, no doubt taking in all the little details. You can’t help the blush that creeps in when he lowers his gaze to your too short too tight dress and twists his lips into a leering side smile. You can feel the heat radiating in the apples of your cheeks, forcing you to turn away from the intensity of his stare.  

Why is he looking at me like that? 

Is it the outfit? Fuck, I knew I looked ridiculous…

Do I have something on my face? It has to be.. a man that gorgeous wouldn’t possibly look at me for any other reason. 

A glance in the mirror behind the bar quickly disproves your concern.  Perfect makeup and hair, just how you had left it. Though you curse your past self for going with such a painfully natural look since the social connotation that you prepared for has completely changed.

It was enough to catch his eye, so it’ll have to do.

I wonder if he’s still looking…

Curiosity always did get the best of you, just a quick peek in that general direction will ease your mind. Except when you shift your view from analyzing your own face to the direction of the man that piqued your interest, he is still looking, watching you as if he’s a predator stalking his prey. Your breathing is starting to pick up in pace and you notice a hint of nervous nausea making an appearance as anxiety takes its usual place in the pit of your stomach. With a gasp, you avert your eyes and look down at your drink, breaking free from the concrete grip he has on you.

I don’t get it.. Nobody’s ever looked at me like that… 

Maybe he’s making fun of me, this dress makes me look like I’m wrapped in fucking sausage casing.. No, y/n shut up you look hot, you can do this.

You can handle a hot guy, he’s just a guy. Turn around and look at him, it’s just a little eye contact. Deep breaths, it’s not like you haven’t done this before.  

Just look at him.

Looking meek or foolish is not on the agenda for today, you decide, while giving yourself the best possible pep talk you can. Somewhere deep inside you is enough gusto to pull on a mask of forced confidence. Like a mighty sword being unsheathed, ready to cut this man to ribbons with your raw, unabashed sex appeal.  

With any potential for embarrassment quietly ticked away for now, you polish off the remainder of your cocktail and turn around. His eyes haven’t left your figure though, and something makes you suspect they haven’t since you entered the building. This time, you stare back at him. Your shoulders are set down and back to ensure good posture, your legs are crossed, and you tilt your head to the side slightly, letting your hair fall in front of your shoulders. 

Now that you’re in full view of each other, it’s your turn to drink in his full appearance. He’s beautiful really, his long brunette tresses reach his shoulders, brushing against the dark blazer that fits him so well it might be tailor-made.  His white button-down barely peeks out from underneath, as it’s unbuttoned nearly to his navel. A few long necklaces lay against his bare chest, you can see them rise and fall with his breathing in his reclined, lax position. His pants are black and tight, and he’s wearing black leather Chelsea boots to finish the outfit. It’s safe to assume that he’s got a bit of money, he’s so polished and pristine, and it’s obvious he wants people to notice. Whatever he’s doing is working because, notice you do, and you can feel the unhinged thoughts rushing the floodgates of your mind. 

I bet he smells amazing.  

An image of yourself pressed up against a stall in the dingy bar bathroom with his lips attacking your neck quickly flashes through your mind. You shake the thought away and shift uncomfortably in your seat to offset the growing moisture in your panties.

Your eyes graze back up his tight little frame to intercept his line of sight, he’s wearing a devilishly smug smirk pointed in your direction. Something about his hungry stare makes it seem like he knows. It feels almost as if he knew exactly what you were thinking just now, and it makes you feel so vulnerable, so exposed, yet so needy. So much so that you almost don’t notice the side conversation he seems to be having with the blonde you had all but forgotten was there. She’s leaned in to hear him speak over the volume of the music, and though you’re nowhere near close enough to hear what he’s saying, you could watch his lips all night.

The woman at his side giggles and nods after he’s finished mumbling whatever it is he told her. It must have been fucking hilarious for her to be laughing so much, your eyes are already rolling before you can stop them.  

She gets up to exit the booth and he smacks her ass on her way out, which leaves a look of disdain on your face that you can’t quite disguise. You’ve never been jealous of a Malibu Barbie type before, but here you are wishing you were in her shoes anyway. Instead of heading in the direction of the exit, or even the bathroom, she starts walking directly toward you. 

Oh god, what the hell is this? Please don’t come over here, what if she’s coming to yell at me? Fuck I’m about to get bitch slapped in a bar.. 

“Hi!” She practically shouts in your face, way too chipper, and leans against the edge of the bar next to you before turning to the bartender. “One vodka cranberry.”

“Um, hello.” You don’t want to sound shaken while she orders the same drink as you, she could be very nice for all you know, but the broken nature of your greeting gives away everything you were trying to hide. Until now, she hadn’t even acknowledged your existence. Why would she though, since she was in the exact spot you wished you’d been in only minutes ago?

You glance back at the booth where she came from, the mystery man still observing this weird interaction over the edge of the glass he’s sipping from.  What you’re looking for from him, you’re not quite sure. Validation, answers, or anything at all, none of which are present in his dark stare.  

“Sorry if was bothering you guys, I didn’t mean to stare…” You mumble, turning your attention back to the blonde woman beside you.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’re just so sorry you got stood up, you look so sad by yourself over here.” She turns to face you flipping her hair over her shoulder, now holding the drink she ordered in her outstretched hand, offering it to you. Her voice is sickly sweet in a forced sort of way that makes you cringe.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, with an accusatory bite. 

Is it really that obvious? Shit, how pathetic could I possibly look..

“He wants you to come over to join him when you’re ready.” The ice in the glass clinks from side to side as she shakes it in front of your face, urging you to take it.

“That’s why your boyfriend has been eye fucking me all night? He wants me to join in your weird throuple?”  

“Oh, Jake’s not my boyfriend - and we’re not a throuple, he only asked for you.  Think of me sort of like a wingwoman” She half laughs in a sort of way that makes you feel as if you’re missing some obvious piece of vital information.  

“What about your friend who obviously thinks she’s getting lucky?” You gesture over to where the brunette is still feeling him up pretty excessively.

“I don’t know who that other girl is we just met her today, don’t worry about her though. I know it’s a lot but.. Just take the drink and go say hi, it’ll be more than worth your while.”

“So this Jake… he sends you over to buy my drink for me in hopes of.. what? So you can deliver me on a silver platter while he uses some poor girl in the same situation I am?” You scoff, in disbelief.

What the fuck? What an incredibly misogynistic asshole…

You can’t help but imagine what it would be like in the shoes of these other women waiting on him hand and foot just to be tossed aside. Even more unwelcome in your mind is the reminder that your ex was a manipulator, maybe a little worse than the likes of Jake, but a manipulator all the same. Complete with ego and entitlement. 

Every cell in your body becomes red hot, quaking, and ready to explode at the thought. Adrenaline boils so close to your skin that you barely have a moment to think about your next move before you grab the drink out of her hand and storm over, leaving her in your wake.  

With a flick of his hand, he shrugs off the smaller brunette that’s currently kissing his neck when he sees you approaching. You ignore her offended-sounding click of the tongue as she arranges herself and shuffles out of the booth pouting, passing you with your drink cocked and ready to throw in the face of the first person to test you.

“Are you fucking with me or something?” You hiss, admittedly louder than you had expected.  

“I’d love to.” He chuckles, places an elbow on the table, and sets down his glass to lean into your presence, not phased in the slightest by your outburst. 

“Seriously?You couldn’t even walk over to flirt with me yourself like a normal person, you had to send some poor girl to do it for you?!”

He chuckles to himself through an annoyingly adorable self-amuse smile. “She doesn’t need your pity, I promise you that.”

His pointedly rude comment throws you off. Confronting him seemed like a good idea from your safe distance away at the bar, but you had unknowingly walked directly into the lion's den. Every other man had always backed down when your feathers were ruffled, so his ability to take your shit wasn’t even on your radar until now, as he holds his own like a champ.  

“What is your deal? Do you get off on freaking out single women in bars or something?”

“You were staring at me just as much as I was staring at you, princess.” His calm, cocky tone sends a prickle across your skin.

“You were staring at me first!” Your comeback is decidedly childish, but given his condescending inflection, the small flicker of confidence that led you to this spot is about to burn out and you’re running out of ideas. Drink still in hand, you raise your arm threateningly as if to prove to him somehow that you’re bigger than him, and you’re not afraid to make a scene if need be. 

Instead of softening and caving like you had hoped, he stands up to meet you at his full height and reaches across the table to grasp your elbow, gently tugging you from your locked and loaded position.

“Lower your voice, and put the drink down.” The authority in his voice paired with the glowering look he points at you through furrowed brows shuts down any hope you had for the redemption you crave. You decide that letting him get his way this time won't hurt, so you slowly lower your drink to the table and slide it onto the surface in surrender. “I’m sorry if I scared you, now would you sit down?”

“You didn’t scare me.” Without missing a beat, you’re rolling your eyes and sliding into the booth just a few feet from the seat he’s returned to, almost as if you had no say over the matter. Even if a thinly veiled peace offering in the form of an apology isn’t quite going to cut it, the raw magnetism you feel towards him is too much to ignore.

“That’s a shame, I thought I’d at least intimidate you a little.” He relaxes back against the booth, smirking, and takes a sip of the brown liquid swirling around his glass. Watching his perfectly chiseled adam’s apple bob in his throat pulls your mind briefly to an image of that same neck dripping in sweat, hovering above you.  

Fucking focus.  Don’t let him shake you.

You down the rest of the liquid courage left in the vodka cranberry he bought you that didn’t spill over the edge between the bar and the table.  

“Well, Jake, is it? All you did was piss me off. You can’t just order people around because you look like that.” You wiggle one pointed finger at him, gesturing up and down his beautiful figure.  

“Look like what?” He cocks his head to the side, eyeing you curiously but still all too knowing. 

“Like… like you think you’re better than everyone. Don’t play with me, you know how attractive you are, and you’re using it to get what you want.”

“So you are attracted to me?”  It was barely a question.

“That’s not the point.” Hopefully he can’t tell how progressively it’s been getting for you to answer his questions.

“You’re funny” You don’t quite notice that he’s been getting closer to you as you talk.  “I’ve ordered you to do more than one thing so far tonight and you’ve done them all. Seems like it’s working pretty well to me, you just might not be as immune as you think.” He grabs your legs and pulls you towards him, draping them across his lap and hiking your skirt up a little higher on your thighs in the process.  

Your breath hitches in your throat as you gasp at the unexpected movement.  You have no more weapons in your arsenal and his accusation leaves you searching for a comeback that’s nowhere to be found. As infuriating as it might be, he’s absolutely right and you’re no match for his charms. He’s got you.

“You know my name, can I have yours?” His voice is a river of honey overflowing from his lips.

“I- I’m y/n.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Tell me y/n, do you think that maybe someone like me needs to order you around because maybe women like you don’t know what you want?”

“What are you talking about, I do too know what I want.”

“Go on then. Enlighten me.”

A hint of embarrassment starts to peek out from its hiding place inside you, threatening to make an appearance but his words are like a challenge. 

Who does he think he is? What kind of man thinks he knows me better than I know myself?

You glance around, over your shoulder trying to get a glimpse of either of his side pieces in the vicinity before making your next move. Once you confirm they’re both nowhere to be found, you lean against him a little more, pressing your ass against his thigh, and run your hand up his exposed chest. All while tangling your fingers in the necklaces that lay there.

“I’ll tell you what I don’t want and that’s some asshole at a bar telling me what to do.” You let a bit of a rasp present itself in your voice, turning the seduction factor up just a tad.

He acts unfazed but a poorly timed blink flickers something across his eyes that you can’t quite place. When you look into his eyes you load them with every ounce of need you possibly can. He reads you like a book. 

“I could rip you to shreds, princess.” 

“You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.” Your voices are just barely loud enough for you to hear each other.

He catches your wrist in his grip, stopping the little circles you were rubbing into his skin.

“You’re playing with fire, y/n. You don’t know what you’re doing.” His eyes burn into yours with all the intensity and lust in the world, and his grip on your wrist tightens. 

“Ow-“ You wince at his strength and bite your lip, trying to stifle the unwelcome pleasure you feel accompanying the pain. In any other instance, you wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you, but with him, everything you’ve ever known is being thrown out the window with every word. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” There’s no real apology in his voice. “Does that hurt? Maybe you should think about the potential consequences of your actions before running that mouth.”

“Maybe you should make me.”

There’s a sharp inhale from Jake before his entire demeanor shifts. What seemed like harmless teasing and flirting before has changed into something far more sinister so suddenly it’s almost as if a switch was flipped inside him. “That’s it, you’re fucking done for. Come on, we’re leaving”

You start to panic as he pulls you from the booth, still gripping your forearm, towards the exit of the bar that leads out to the road. 

“Leaving? Where are we going?” 

“I’m gonna teach you some fucking manners.”

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Outside, there is a black SUV ready and waiting at the curb.  As soon as you see it you stop dead in your tracks, no longer allowing your feet to follow wherever he deigned to drag you. Sure, you want into his pants, but that tiny possibility of stranger danger every woman needs to be aware of pops up in the back of your mind with the wave of a big red flag.

Once he notices he’s met with resistance, he turns back to look at you, concern flashes across his face. Glancing around to assess any potential bystanders, he loosens his grip on your arm in favor of taking both of your hands in his and meeting you where you stand.

“Trust me y/n, I promise I’ll take care of you” He leans in to whisper so only you can hear, lips tickling your ear. When his eyes return to view, he regards you with such sincerity you can’t help but believe. There’s almost a desperation in his eyes you haven’t seen before, begging you to take pity and come with him.  

Slowly, your heart flutters as you kiss him. What’s meant to be soft and chaste is deepened by his hands firmly wrapping around your waist, holding you in his arms for a moment of delicacy before the hunger returns.  

He grips your hips and turns you, breaking the kiss in the process and backing you into the car, as if he’s cornering you like a helpless animal towards the already open door. When your ankles hit the edge you fold and fall into the backseat, you use your hands to back yourself deeper into the car as Jake climbs in on top of you, pulling the door shut behind him. He immediately goes to work on devouring your neck and pushing your skirt up to your hips.

“Jake..” you whisper, “Jake, stop we’re not alone, he’ll see.” You nod slightly in the direction of the chauffeur since you can’t help but notice that there’s no privacy partition. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it. I know you want to be all pretty and exposed for my driver to see.” His voice isn’t hushed in the slightest, like you’d expect it to be in this situation.  

You can't find the words to respond, your heart is pounding and adrenaline is running at light speed through your veins. Right about now is when fear would rear its head and snap at you, forcing you to shut everything down and retreat, but there’s no sign of fear now, not even an inkling. He shoves your legs apart, triggering a little yelp to escape your lips. You had been unconsciously clenching your thighs together, but now Jake's hand is between them, lazily running a finger through your slit now that he’s pulled your panties aside to make room for him. 

“Look at him.”  

“But Jake…” A deep blush rises in your cheeks at the mere thought of what he’s asking you to do.

“Be a good slut and do as I say.” 

You shudder at the deep growl in his voice and peek in the direction of the driver. All you can see is the back of his head, but you do catch the reflection of his eyes in the rearview mirror flickering between the road and the scene unfolding in the back seat. Watching the look in the driver’s eye teeter on the edge of discomfort and arousal is just hot enough to make you bite your own lip. At that same time, Jake decides this is the best time to glide two fingers inside you and stretch you out in search of that sweet spot.  

The movement of his fingers pulls a high-pitched, pornographic moan from your throat just as the driver peeks back in the mirror to peer down at you and you can see his soul leave his body through his eyes when he hears you.  Jake stiffens in his pants flush against your leg, along with the driver, you can only assume. It was an amusing and disgustingly slutty thing of him to do, but it unexpectedly fueled your flame.

“You were right Jakey... I did like that.” Your words come out as a slew of pitchy moans.

“See, you’re learning so much already.” 

A light cough from the driver breaks the tension. “Sir, we’ve arrived.”

Jake barely looks up from where he’s kissing across the tops of your breasts, it seems neither of you noticed that you’d stopped moving, or even began for that matter. “Remember when I asked you to trust me?”

You nod, eagerly, barely recalling the moment of vulnerability you shared outside the bar through the fog that his hand inside you has created, edging you into oblivion.  

“Do you still trust me, princess?”

Based on tonight’s current track record, you’re obviously destined to take an unexpected turn or two before the night is over. An idea that’s both terrifying and thrilling, but that moment of vulnerability is more than enough for you to hold onto hope that he won’t hurt you. You do trust him, as much as you can trust a mysterious stranger from a bar.

You shake your head from side to side, just to fuck with him a little, biting your lip and squeezing your walls around his fingers all the while.

“You brat, you’re too cute for your own good.” He rolls his eyes with a smile, not buying your shitty attempt at bluffing. Though it seems it did tease him just enough to work him up the wall even further than he already is.

With one hand, he opens the car door, the other still deep in your oozing cunt. He presses lightly against your sweet spot with two fingers and holds pressure there. “Get up.”

The intensity of his fingers, stiff and unmoving against the most sensitive part of you would be enough to bring you to your knees if he twitched them even an inch. You do as he says and sit up, but the moment you do he starts to back out of the car, his hooked fingers pulling you along with him.  

“Jake, wait…” You wince and suck in a shaky breath and inch closer to alleviate even a little bit of the growing pressure. For every move you make towards him, he moves farther away until you’re clambering out of the back seat onto a winding drive that leads up to a large and beautiful house.  

You grab his wrist, trying to free yourself from his grasp. Instead of relinquishing control, his free hand wraps around your throat and pushes you back against the side of the car. Your faces are barely inches from each other when you swear under your breath.  

“Don’t be fucking naughty, y/n. You’ll spoil my fun.” He curls his fingers agonizingly slow against your sweet spot. “Understand?” 

His breath is hot and delicious against your skin, you swear you could get drunk on it if he kept you there long enough. You manage a little bit of a nod and a shudder with your limited range of motion and concede with the release of his wrist.  

“Good girl.” He leads you into the house, only pulling his hand from your core once you’re through the door.

He instructs you to get on your knees while he undoes his belt, not breaking eye contact as you sink down. 

“Hands behind your back.” He commands. 

For a split second, you hesitate, deciding what way you want this to play out.  

He’s getting rather comfortable telling me what to do, maybe it’s time to fight back.  

I gave him hell at the bar, I can’t make him think I’m all bark and no bite.

The thought process lasts a little too long for his liking, apparently, and a light but surprising tap from the belt folded over in his fist lands on the side of your arm.  

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” You do as he says, silently cursing yourself for being so quick to submit and he binds your wrists together using his belt. The leather biting your skin ever so slightly.

He circles you once, then twice, eyeing you as you look down at the plush area rug you’re knelt on, trembling for his touch. His presence alone makes you wish he would rip your clothes off and take you right here on the floor. Keeping up your defiant exterior is going to be next to impossible, but you know it can work wonders to get him worked up the way you want him to be, to get him to put his hands on you.

Finally, he bends to your level and lowers the straps of your dress down your shoulders, allowing the front of your dress to fall, exposing your breasts to him. He takes hold of your nipples, pinching them and twisting them until you squirm under his touch. A small whimper escapes your lips, prompting Jake to chuckle as he stands and undoes the remaining zipper and button of his pants. 

“This is what you wanted, isn't it, dirty girl?” He taunts, knowing full well what you want. The fact that just a bit of fabric is the only thing keeping you from the bulge he’s holding just out of reach is excruciating. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, Sir.”

A noise of contentment rumbles in his chest. “I knew you could be a good pet for me, learning so quickly. Now let me see that pretty tongue.”

You don’t oblige immediately, once again, prompting him to take hold of your jaw with that firm grip you’ve come to know and love. His exposed cock is out and in hand, throbbing deliciously, and he places it on your tongue after forcing it open with a tight squeeze of your chin and a few taps of the head against your cheek. You wrap your lips around him and bob your head along the shaft, suckling on the tip every time you pull away. You look up at him through your lashes to see him gazing down at you with his lips parted, his glorious features contorted into a look of concentration. When he catches your eyes you rub your legs together seeking any source of friction against your clit, eager to pleasure yourself to this view.   

“Ah ah ah,” He scolds, and pushes your knees apart with his foot, not breaking the seal.  “You’ll touch yourself if, and only if, I say so.” When you groan in protest, he places one of his boots between your legs, grinding it against your sopping wet pussy in a way that catches your clit just right.  

You whine around his cock at the new sensation and grind down against it in response, savoring the delightfully rough feeling of the leather on your delicate skin. Moan after moan somersaults out of you while you swivel your hips chasing your release, getting you closer and closer with each roll of your bud over his boot, spurring him on as he grunts along with you.

“Awwww what’s wrong, darling?” He fakes sympathy for your state.  “Too much? Stop moving and I’ll let you go.” 

You try to release him from your mouth to answer, but he grabs the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth, fucking the back of your throat at a relentless pace that causes you to choke. With tears starting to stream down your cheeks from the sheer size of him, an involuntary guttural moan reverberates around his cock, almost doubling him over.  

He pulls you off him by your hair, huffing, exasperated, and then moves his boot away from you to inspect the evidence of your arousal. With the sudden change in pace you groan in protest, grieving the loss of yet another orgasm.  

“Now you’ve made a mess on my boots, you just love misbehaving. Don't you?” 

You shake your head. 

“Clean up your mess.”

Tears still streaming down your cheeks from choking, you decide to test your luck once more. Partly because you’re not quite sure what he’s asking of you, but also because you’re barely keeping a grip on the bratty facade you’ve created. So you pull out a shit eating grin and choke out a broken, “No”

“No? Did you forget what happens when you disobey?” There’s a merciless, almost terrifying cadence to the question.  

You didn’t forget though, how could you possibly forget? Neverless, you do your best not to let on how easily he’s cracking your shell.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“No, what? Come on, I know you can be a good girl.”

“No sir.. I’m sorry, I’ll be so good.. I promise.” You pant, desperate.

He weaves his fingers into your hair, wrapping his hand once around the strands.  

“If you want me to turn you into my pretty little cock sleeve, you’ll prove you can be good and clean up your mess.” He punctuates each word, driving the point home that he’s no longer making requests. With an iron-clad hold on your already defenseless body, he bends you at the waist drawing you towards the ground until you’re face to face with your soaked ride. 

It dawns on you exactly what he means and your stomach flips three times over.  

Jake has been surprising you consistently, all night, with sickly sexy acts that have your jaw on the floor. Licking your own cream off his little black boots is undeniably one of them. 

You extend your tongue and collect a pile of your juices on the flat of it, panting heavily to maintain your composure. 

“You like that don’t you.. How do you taste?” He asks, his tone practically dripping with lust.  

As if it’s second nature, you collect another pile on your tongue and tilt your face upwards, offering it to him. He hums low in his throat as he yanks you off the floor to his height so he can wrap his lips around your tongue, slurping your juices up before dipping his own tongue into your mouth to savor the taste of you a bit longer. 

“Just like I thought, fucking delicious.” He frees your hands from his belt so you can get your bearings, and you absentmindedly rub your wrists to ease the pressure marks left there.

“Yeah? Are you gonna eat me up?” You can feel your lips are red and puffy, but you bite them anyway as you tease him. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you are delicious.. But I like to play with my food before I eat it.” His words send a shudder down your spine and shake every last bit of air from your lungs with a broken exhale.

You’ve never been degraded like this before, but judging based on the way your clit is quivering and you feel like you could combust at any second, you file it away for future use. Shame has never felt so good as when it’s surrounded by praise from Jake's perfect lips. 

With that, he takes hold of your wrist and turns, dragging you along behind him, making you stumble and trip trying to keep up with him until he scoops you into his arms to carry you up a flight of stairs that leads to his bedroom. He effortlessly tosses you onto the bed like a rag doll once you arrive. 

“Panties off. On all fours.” He commands.

You slide your panties down, not daring to disobey him again, and scramble into position on the pillow-soft mattress. You hear him pulling off his clothes as they fall to the floor, followed by the gentle rustling of the bedsheets dipping from his weight as he moves across them. Instead of the soft head that you were expecting, you feel the familiar leather of his belt running up the backs of your thighs. 

“Jake.. I don’t know about this..”

“You didn’t think you’d get off without punishment, did you? No, you’ve been acting up, babygirl. I want to feel your red hot ass against my legs when I fuck you.”

He glides the belt across your slit once, tapping it lightly to ease you into the sensation, making you jump slightly. Your breathing picks up and you grit your teeth in anticipation as he rolls the belt over your skin in little circles. You turn your head to look at him and catch him watching you, gauging your reaction.  Probably for any sign of protest, but there’s none to be found amidst your boiling excitement. You wiggle your ass at him a little to signal you’re ready. 

Suddenly, all sensation is gone leaving you defenseless momentarily before he brings the belt down swiftly over your ass with a crack. You cry out, and he soothes his hand over the spot before repeating the action, spanking you over and over in perfect rhythm sending your body jolting forward. Each one stinging more than the last with only a brief brush of his hand to ease the pain. You bite your tongue as best as you can between each strike until you let out a quiet sob, sniffling away the tears, but it doesn’t stop your body from shaking. 

One brush of his hand over your ass stops him mid-swing. He pauses, leaving his hand to rest there, it seems like he’s reading your feelings through the palm of his hand and the emotion hidden in your noises. He sounds a small mewl that can only be described as pathetic as he drops to his knees at the edge of the bed and cups your face in his hands.  

“Are you okay?  Why didn’t you stop me if it was too much?” If you weren’t already crying, you’d weep at the desperation of his words. 

“I’m okay.” You shake your head and smile up at him weakly. Through blurry vision and wet lashes you can make out his features, wiped clean of any trace of heat replaced now with terror. All you want is for him to look at you like a goddess again. “You can keep going.”

He nods in understanding and gently wipes your tears with his thumbs and returns to his spot behind you on the bed. On instinct, your muscles tense, bracing for another impact.   

“I’m not going to push you anymore, princess. Take some deep breaths.”  He kisses your bruises softly and tosses his belt away and off to the side of the bed in plain view so you can see it’s been discarded, you give your sore muscles permission to relax.

He really is much softer than I thought. 

“You’ve earned a reward.” He smooths his hands over your tender battered skin one last time, then spreads your lips a little a bit as he bends to lick you. He starts with a long stripe and slowly picks up speed to set a frenzied pace, every once in a while sucking your clit into his mouth or flicking his tongue over your ass.  

You approach the peak so easily since you were teetering close to the edge already. Whimpers and curses flow out of you like a roaring river.

“That’s right, my pet. Purr for me.” Hearing him sound so out of breath between his words, peppered in with the swipes over your sensitive bud have you leaping over the edge of your orgasm. He works you through it with ease, slurping up every bit of what you gave him.  

You half expected him to keep going, to overstimulate you beyond belief, but he simply brings you back down from your cloud as you relax your body into the mattress.

“Can I have one more, Sir?” You roll over onto your back, splaying your legs for him while you look up at him with the best doe eyes you can manage. 

“One more, she says. Who said you get to be greedy?” It’s fully your fault when he takes advantage of your exposed state to land two quick spanks on your pussy. You take them as a well deserved scold, but whine to him anyway. “You’re a needy little slut, huh? You’re lucky I like hearing you beg.”

“Please, I want to feel you.” He situates himself on the bed and effortlessly pulls you into his lap, lining you up and shoving himself inside you with no warning before you can even finish your sentence.

You’re beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that he could be just as weak for you as you are for him.  

These are thoughts for another time though, since your mind begins to cloud over as he ferociously fucks up into you while simultaneously pulling you tighter against him by your shoulders.  

There are no thoughts at all really.  

The sequence of events makes you feel as though you’d never be more turned on again in your whole life. As though you could sleep with a million people after this night and not one of them would live up to this moment. It could have happened in slow motion, there could’ve been background music or even an audience of onlookers and you wouldn’t be able to notice. All that matters is how he’s making your eyes roll to the back of your head.  

He moans your name in waves, praising you for how good you feel, how perfect your cunt is. His brows knit up and worry lines appear as he continues his vicious attack on your core, bucking his hips up against your sweet spot and into your cervix. An overwhelming feeling you’re happy to succumb to if it means you can see this look on his face.  

Pressed skin to skin, you wrap your arms around him, cradling his head in your arms until your fingers are buried in his hair. You hold each other this way, intimately until your orgasms manifest together, unfolding like a butterfly emerging from her chrysalis. The warmth of his cum flooding your insides just adds to the pleasure until you slowly come to a halt together.

Though your eyes are still closed, you let him rock the both of you back until you’re lying together, resting your weight on top of him. He pulls out slowly so as to not overwhelm you and pets your hair gently as if you could crack under his touch at any second. Your cheek is pressed against the skin of his chest, sticky with a light sheen of sweat. The smell of sex on him is intoxicating, so you press a few open-mouthed kisses against his chest, savoring the salty essence left on your lips. 

In your post-fuck stupor, you let your mind run a mile a minute as your breathing returns to normalcy.

“Did you have that girl put something in my drink, Jakey?” The question is out before you have time to realize how ridiculous it sounds.

“Why would I need to drug your drink?” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the shock laced with mild amusement in his voice.

You shrug. “I would normally never do something like this. I’m shy, I don’t have terrifying sex with beautiful strangers.”

Jake chuckles in an adorable way that makes your cheeks burn and kisses the top of your head. “Would you feel better about yourself if I did?”

“No,” you reply without hesitation. “I don’t want to be the shy girl anymore.”

“Good, 'cause you’re not. You bagged me all on your own.” 

You roll your eyes at his relentless ego making another appearance.

“You’ll have to learn to actually trust me, babygirl.”

“I do.”

You smile and drift off into a quiet sleep, breathing in his scent while admiring the red marks on your wrists. 

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

thank you for reading

if you’d like to be notified when i post, please fill out my taglist form

taglist: @starbuckschords @thejussy4 @samkiszkaswhxre @andjoshsaid @countryday @gretavanfleas @loofypoofy @jakeyscakey

[autisticempathydaemon]

Ship Song Tag Game!

(do we have a name for this I dunno that sounded so awkward)

I’ve had a week, but I’ve been looking forward to sharing my favorite Redacted songs! Thank you, @bratty-telepath , for the tag 💜

I didn't care much how long I lived/ But I swear I thought I dreamed her/ She never asked me once about the wrong I did

Erik tried to kill my Alexis/Christian dreams, but too bad, I’m a Pisces. Y’all know not the escapist denial I am capable of. I love all Hozier songs, but I especially love listening to this from Alexis’s point of view, her being at her deepest and lowest and being loved no matter what.

I ask if you play D&D/ And your face lights up like you've woken up/ From this endless fucking nightmare of pretending this is you/ This is us, this is me and this how we're meant to be

This is the Freelancer/Lasko song, and it’s also just so beautiful. It’s literally about two awkward, lonely people breaking through societal convention and small talk and getting to the real parts of each other; I love it.

Hi/ I'm your friendly neighborhood poltergeist/ Nobody ever looks at me twice/ I'm used to being see-through/ But it feels so bad when it happens with you/ Wish you'd see me the way I see you

This is just Regulus pining before he reveals himself to Doll, and it’s so good.

You were red and you liked me 'cause I was blue/ But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky/ And you decided purple just wasn't for you

My favorite Marcus/Love song. I actually based some of my Love design off this song where their eyes are a glowing, bright, cybernetic blue before the code activation and pink during it. After the osmium undone, their eyes stay purple and can’t be changed back.

But here's a map, here's a shovel/ Here's my Achilles' heel/ I'm all in, palms out/ I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin/ I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in

This is a song specifically about Type 8 Enneagram, which I do think Sam and Darlin both are, about having had to be strong and tough and solid your whole life and having the courage to be soft and vulnerable with the people who love you. It’s also gorgeous, it really builds.

They don't know you/ Not like I do/ Only you and I were meant to be

I love a good, heckin yandere song more than the next person, and this one is my favorite. It fuckin bops and is a great Ivan/Baby song.

Take me back to the night we met/ And then I can tell myself/ What the hell I'm supposed to do/ And then I can tell myself/ Not to ride along with you

Now hear me out- Listen to this song. Imagine it from Sam’s perspective. Imagine it from Alexis’s. Think about how they’re both different but both so sad, and get back to me. It’s haunting and melancholy, and I love it.

Get hitched in a chapel in Vegas/ Maybe get rich, life is a craps game/ And I take my cue, from you/ On what you wanna do 'bout a last name/ It's not so bad to be a Watsky

A fun song I really like that I think also works for Vincent/Lovely. It just kind of gives the vibe of him knowing that they’ve been through a lot, that this isn’t how he wanted their love story to go, but he’s in, he’s behind them and so is his whole family.

You could kill me and you should/ I'm an idiot for thinking/ This was anything but blood/ On the wall, on the couch/ On the corner of my mouth/ You must like being the victim/ You've done nothing to get out

Quinn and Darlin’s “dalliance” was almost definitely really toxic and bloody and sexy, and this is the soundtrack to it, and I want to see it.

Then I see you, you're walking 'cross the campus/ Cruel professor, studying romances/ How am I supposed to pretend/ I never want to see you again?

I am going to put a Bee/Lasko song on here, because I am the controller of my destiny and my blog. Lasko is the cutest dude on the DAMN campus, and I just like making my little empathy daemon pine for him it’s sweet~

Tagging: @k9rage @angelnoodlesoup @just-call-me-angel and anyone who hasn’t been tagged yet!

[the-haunted-office]

[ SPLASH ]:     sender and receiver arm themselves with water guns and prepare to soak one another in a water fight.

@katsuko-rp-blog

“I’m so excited that you’re staying the night, Katsuko!” Thursday says, practically humming with energy. She rubbing her hands together and shuffling her feet around a lot, and grinning. “We are gonna do all the things. And I mean it. ALL the things, ehehehe. Better get some of these energy drinks going, because we’re gonna need them to keep us going!”

She then announces, “First thing’s first! Let’s get to baking some goodies for us to snack on the rest of the evening!”

[ OVEN ]:     sender and receiver engage in a baking challenge against one another (think GBBO, but for two people in one kitchen!).

 [ PICNIC ]:     sender and receiver arrange and enjoy a living room/bedroom picnic together

[ FROZEN ]:    sender and receiver design an ice-cream sundae bar together.

[ PIZZA ]:    sender and receiver make pizzas together from scratch.

Thursday wants to bake cupcakes.

Katsuko wants pizza.

So, naturally, rather than either picking one or both simply baking their own thing, they decided to make a competition out of it to see whose cuisine would reign supreme.

Well, the kitchen is a mess and she has no idea who won that competition, but at least they have cookies and pizza now!

“Suppose this means we both won, ehehehe,” Thursday laughs, and starts piling up the goodies on a rolling cart to wheel off to her room for them to enjoy, leaving behind a huge mess in the kitchen that she swears she’ll get to later.

[ VIBE ]:     sender and receiver listen to music together.

[ STYLE ]:     sender and receiver do each other’s make-up.

After polishing of most of the pizza and a fair amount of the cookies, Katsuko has insisted on doing Thursday’s make-up.

Thursday hates make-up. She hates the way it makes her face feel. It makes her face feel like it can’t breathe - it’s terribly uncomfortable to her. But... she allows Katsuko to do it.

“Just no mascara, please. I hate those bristles being so close to my eyes! I literally can’t sit still enough for you to do it, I’ll keep flinching and you’ll eventually blind me. So, everything else, okay, but no mascara!”

She puts on some nice trance music to introduce Katsuko to some of her favorite music while she goes about putting make-up on her.

[ KARAOKE ]:     sender and receiver sing karaoke together. [ BOOGIE ]:     sender and receiver dance to music together (either a full chaotic dance party or a slow dance)

Now that they’re both all make-upped - with Thursday’s much better done than the clown face she accidentally put on Katsuko - the music gets changed to fun 80′s pop and rock music. This being some of Thursday’s most absolute favorite music, of course her energy is rekindled.

Thursday teaches some of her favorite Starship songs to Katsuko and helps her learn how to sing them, and also tells her the story of how she and Cyrus sang “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” for Stanley and the bucket during their pretend wedding. The room is full of laughter and eventually she beckons Katsuko to dance with her.

Hopefully none of the leftover cookies or pizza got stepped on.

[ GAME ]:     sender and receiver enjoy a game night (using video games, board games and other mediums) together.

[ BOARD ]:     sender and receiver play board games together.

[ SIP ]:     sender and receiver play drinking games (not necessarily using alcohol! just a drink of choice) together (e.g. never have i ever, where one person says something they’ve never done before, and the other drinks if they have done it, or doesn’t if they haven’t).

After all the dancing shenanigans, it’s decided to sit down and play some board games together. And drinks - that’s important, gotta have the drinks out. Thursday despises the taste of alcohol, so she decides to stick to sparkling grape juice.

“Here, I have so show you the game of Life. It was my favorite growing up! I loved the little cars, and filling up the cars with kids, ehehehe,” she laughs while setting everything up. “My best friend at the time - Sherry - and I modified the game a little bit. We made it so that instead of getting $5000 from every player when you have a baby, you pay $5000 either to whoever is the doctor or just to the board. More realistic that way! Oh! And we also created our own fake Life tiles, like one of them I remember had something to do with George Clooney and some of them even made you lose money at the end. It upped the challenge a bit! Now, for housing, personally I always liked the trailer, because it said ‘deals on wheels’ on the card and for some reason that always struck me as funny, ehehehe.”

[ OUTAGE ]:     sender and receiver end up stuck at home during a blackout and come up with electricity-free ways to entertain themselves.

They’re in the middle of Life when the power suddenly flickers a couple of times, and then goes out altogether.

“Oh... Oh, that’s not good... That magical battery that Jackson set up for us was supposed to last at least a year! I wonder if something’s gone wrong,” says Thursday, getting up to get her mobile phone and calling Thisday, who is up in the control booth. “Hey, man, what’s going on up there? We lost power down here.”

“So I’m told that, uh, some, like, eight foot tall street lamp thing got into the office and somehow took out the power with it,” Thisday explains. “That’s, ah, that’s all according to Cyrus and Aurora, by the way, I only caught a brief glimpse of it before we lost power, so- just stay in your room! You and Katsuko stay where you are, I’m going to go downstairs and see what we’ve got going on here.”

The line disconnects.

Thursday turns to look at Katsuko, using the light from her phone to see.

“Apparently a rogue street lamp is terrorizing the office. Wanna go check it out?”

[ PILLOW ]:     sender and receiver engage in a pillow fight with each other.

[ TWIST ]:     sender and receiver play a game of twister together.

[ FIGHT ]:     sender and receiver engage in a game of play wrestling together.

[  spar  ]  Thursday beats Katsuko in a fight!

After taking care off the street lamp creature and restoring power to the office, Thursday and Katsuko eat some more pizza and cookies and ice cream, and then, since they are both wound up with adrenaline, decide to start a pillow fight. While playing Twister. Which turns into wrestling. Which miraculously leads to Thursday successfully pinning Katsuko down onto the floor... although she knows the kitsune would easily toss her away.

“Hahahaaaaa, I knew all those Red Bulls would come in handy!” she declares.

[ Q&A ]:     sender and receiver play the question game together (i.e. asking random, soul-searching questions which they must answer honestly)

[ JIGSAW ]:     sender and receiver do jigsaw puzzles together.

It is finally time to start winding down, so Thursday gets out an all white jigsaw puzzle she found online and decided she wanted to try out for the sheer hell of it.

“This sucks!” she complains as she’s hunting for the one white piece out of 500 identical ones that she needs. “Whose idea was it to get this thing?! Well, maybe we’ll get like, halfway done before it gets too late,” she says, ignoring the fact that by now it’s already two in the morning.

While working on the puzzle, Thursday chatters about her life before the office, about her childhood, about her mother, about school, about her friends. The meaning of life. Why she’s not religious. When she realized she liked girls as well as boys. All that fun stuff.

She trails off in the middle of explaining that she should have shown Katsuko what happens when you put Mentos in Diet Coke because she has suddenly fallen asleep.

Hours later she wakes up with puzzle pieces stuck to her face and a room full of pizza crusts and cookie crumbs, but also a night full of fun memories!

[adultswim2021]

!!!EMERGENCY POST!!!

Sometimes I forget to cover a thing, so I add the phrase “EMERGENCY POST” to the top of the post to indicate that. So, without further adude:

Tim & Eric Nite Live #1: “Delicious Pizza” | November 6, 2007 - 10:00PM | S01E01 Aired on superdeluxe.com

Folks, I messed up. While this blog was always meant to be more about the proper television content of the Adult Swim original comedy ecosphere, I was planning to at least touch on some of the web-only content. While covering it in-depth wasn’t going to be a requirement I could work with, I was, however, planning to make an exception for Tim & Eric Nite Live. But I didn’t think about formally making sure I wasn’t gonna miss it until it was too late. I falsely remembered that the series started sometime midway through season two, rather than a few weeks before season two. I’m so sorry. But, being a spin-off somewhat of Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! I’ve decided to count this, and I’ve decided to do a brief run of posts catching up with this series so I can weave the few remaining 2007 episodes where they actually belong on the timeline. 

Tim and Eric Nite Live is an achievement. It’s one of the funniest things they’ve ever done. How can two Pennsylvanians, such a universally reviled demographic of people, be so goddamn effortlessly funny? It boggles my mind.

This is basically a public access show for the internet. It’s clearly influenced by their own love of public access shows. A lot of people from Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job showed up to participate in this. You had Richard Dunn, showing up to get shaved (sometimes played by the real Richard Dunn, but briefly and absurdly played by Zach “big time” Galifianakis” for a brief stretch), You had David Liebe Hart performing music and interjecting way too much from the sidelines (which yields some of the show’s funniest moments, nearly derailing the fabricated trainwreck into a real one). 

This one opens up with a wonderfully elaborate intro sequence, which makes the show seem like an attempt at a slick news-magazine show. What we get instead is an endless small-talk segment that is clearly paid advertisement for Papa John’s Pizza. To clarify: they aren’t actually getting paid by Papa John’s they are just doing their goddamn best to sincerely sell the idea that they might be. They are so good at laying it on thick. Tim decreeing “I’ve never seen anything like this” regarding the Papa John's website is hysterical.  

Other memorable moments: Tim backhandedly insulting We Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, which was actually being advertised on the front page of Super Deluxe’s web page. I’ve done a very poor job of approximating what it might have looked like if you were watching this web broadcast on the front page of the site. It’s on top of this write-up. I tell you, streaming this show was hellish at the time. I remember sitting through entire episodes of the show and just watching all of my friends comment on it in an AIM chatroom while it buffered endlessly for me, so I only got to see a few snippets here and there as it aired live. 

It really was live, too. They took Skype calls from fans, and treated them poorly. My favorite call is a cute girl named Kate who DLH immediately starts hitting on (he nearly gives her his phone number only to be cut off by Tim & Eric). She refers to “Jayne and Wan” Skyler which prompts an immediate hang-up from Tim, incensed that she got the names wrong. 

Another memorable bit is DJ Doug Pound presenting the mostly lame Tim & Eric cover song contest. This bit ends with Doug very sillily walking into the camera as he leaves, causing a huge disruption in our visual experience of the show. Tim scolds him for doing an extra bit of comedy that the show did not need. 

It’s important to note: Tim & Eric eventually released higher-quality versions of these that are in roughly DVD quality. From what I can tell they are uncut but with one exception: this first episode is missing around a minute’s worth of footage towards the beginning. My guess is that their own high-quality archive of the stream failed, but since they had the opening sequence as a pre-recorded video they just stitched that to the front of their incomplete archive. If you find the lower-quality version online, it has a SuperDeluxe network bug in the corner. This is the more complete version. I made a composite version a long time ago but I don’t know if I have it handy anymore. If I find it, maybe I’ll throw it up online sometime?

[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!

[asterlark]

ok. samwell college of music au. i wrote all four years let's go babey

eric bittle is this lovely southern tenor (sounds kinda like mitch grassi or ben j pierce) who posts covers (& sometimes originals, but always with neutral or no pronouns because he can't post anything that says he or him ☹) on his youtube channel and has major stage fright but is very talented; he also plays ukulele

he got into samwell college of music on a voice scholarship and his dad doesn’t exactly approve but eric was never the 6′2″ masculine football player he wanted anyway so why not go for his dreams

he auditions for the very competitive samwell men’s contemporary chorus (there’s like 20 choirs; chamber choir, jazz choir, a cappella groups (lax bros do a cappella), combined choirs, etc- smcc does contemporary pop/rock music) and while he’s very very nervous and shaky as he auditions, directors hall & murray see a lot of potential in him (with major grumbling from student director jack)

(the rest of this ridiculously long au under the cut)

the group is small, for a chorus, because the point of the group is not a wall of sound but a focus on all of the very talented guys’ voices coming together in these gorgeous harmonies and basically they’re like one of the best choruses on campus and all the male singers want in

so there’s jack zimmermann, who of course eric knows because everyone knows who he is, he’s the son of bob and alicia zimmermann, both incredibly talented and famous musicians, and basically those genes were in his favor because he’s mega fucking talented

(jack was supposed to sign a recording contract to be in a band with his best friend kent parson when he was 17 but something happened between them and the pressure was too much and jack overdosed on something- there’s so many rumors no one knows what’s real- and kent signed solo in LA & went on to win grammys for his albums about a mysterious ex and jack disappeared for a few years to be a counselor at a music camp and reappears at samwell, knocking everyone’s socks off again like he’d never left, except with a renewed vigor and intenseness that freaks everyone out)

jack is a contemporary writing & production major, freaky talented and sings like a modern day frank sinatra, and he plays like 20 instruments and can read music like breathing air and writes songs like if he stopped he’d die; his music is folksy and mournful and he plays all the instruments on his tracks himself- guitar, piano, strings, drums- it sounds like a full band but nope. just jack. he’s intense

“we all get nicknames in this choir,” justin informs eric on his first day, “we’re those kinda guys.” so he’s bitty, which he finds vaguely offensive (bc he’s not that short!) but still cute, & the rest of the group is introduced to him:

“shitty” knight (voice like colyer) is a musical education major and an enigma of a singer with this awesome, earthy, raspy voice that’s really interesting to listen to and a very.... unique style & look; he writes cheesy but shockingly good raps about social justice topics and he will sing-lecture you if you’ve said something offensive (he also plays banjo)

justin “ransom” oluransi is a music business & management major with an angelic voice you can’t help but listen to; he’s sultry and has an incredible range and does runs like nobody’s business (with a voice like daniel caesar or leslie odom jr UGH)

adam “holster” birkholtz is a voice performance major, wants to be on broadway and it’s all he ever goddamn talks about basically, he’s a belter and has a lot of charisma and starpower and he’ll charm the pants off of you within one note; can also play piano and irritates everyone constantly because his regular volume is like a level 11 (voice like the frontman of my brothers and i combined w/ x ambassadors lead singer)

larissa “lardo” duan is at the local art institute because performing arts is not her jam and she’d much rather paint; she’s a barista at annie’s and supervises open mic nights and keeps the annoying choir dudes from driving away all her patrons

“i’m not even in your dumbass choir,” she says when the group gave her her nickname. holster just told her that she was an honorary member and then started sing-shouting a song at her about how good she is

bitty’s first year is hard because he’s talented and he works hard but he shies away when anyone asks him to sing outside the group and like, he can sing to a camera by himself but being on a stage with everyone looking at you and the sole responsibility of the song on your shoulders is terrifying and no thanks

jack does not. understand this. he’s been performing practically since he came out of the womb and he doesn’t really get performance nerves (what he gets is anxiety about how he did after he gets off stage that follows him home and makes it so he can’t sleep) - so he bothers bitty about it constantly like “you just need practice, you just have to sing by yourself a lot and then you’ll get over it” which like.... that’s true but it’s also hella scary and bitty’s like “no thanks!!!!”

but jack’s annoying and intense so he makes bitty do open mic with him every saturday night and it’s going okay and bitty loves his choir and loves his school and these new friends he’s making and he finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them during his second term

then during their spring choral showcase at the end of his freshman year bitty has a solo and he’s worked really hard on it and he’s feeling good- okay he’s completely freaked out but he’s trying to feel good- but when he gets up on stage there’s so many people and the stage lights are so hot on his face and he flips out a little and maybe he passes out from anxiety and stress right on stage and it’s terrible and he’s so embarrassed and ashamed that he ruined their set at the showcase

of course jack blames himself because “we shouldn’t have given you a solo before you were ready, i misjudged it, i’m sorry” - and they all feel kinda bad bc holy fuck they didn’t know his stage fright was that bad like they didn’t know someone could pass out just by being anxious to sing

he practices all the time over the summer and goes to his local open mic at jack’s insistence and it actually helps a lot because instead of a sea of strangers judging him it’s a bunch of people he knows and they’re all smiling at him and when he finishes his song they cheer for him and it boosts his self-confidence a lot

his sophomore year they have three new members- chris ”chowder” chow (voice like ieuan), an excitable music education major with impressive rapping skills, derek "nursey" nurse (frank ocean or leon bridges type), a songwriting major who can also play violin and guitar, and will ”dex” poindexter (like tom west), a production & engineering major who tried out with chowder bc he needed moral support and didn't expect to get in but impressed the directors with his voice

the year’s going pretty good, bitty’s still pretty scared of singing alone but more confident now and the open mic nights with jack haven’t stopped, so he’s getting better. and one night they’re hanging out at annie’s after closing waiting for lardo to be done so they can walk her home, and bitty suggests that jack sing with him one of these nights, and jack says he doesn’t know any of bitty’s songs and bitty says they can write one together half jokingly but then jack is like “yes.” with that Intense Look

SO they get together a couple days later in jack’s room at the house they all live in together (bitty moved in at the beginning of the year after previous smcc member john johnson called him- how’d he get his number?- and told him he could take his room if he wanted), jack with his guitar and bitty with his ukulele, and it’s a little awkward until bitty says jack should play him one of his songs

and, okay, he doesn’t really know what to expect because the only music jack ever released to the public was that one single he did with kent parson when they were 17 so bitty doesn’t even know if he has anything to play him, but he does- he starts playing these soft, sad notes on the guitar and opens his mouth and sings about being lonely and scared and unsure, about false starts and shaky ground and not knowing where you stand with someone, about expectations and lying awake at night and wishing so hard you were someone else, and bitty watches him sing and just kind of... realizes he’s head over heels for this boy and internally Freaks Out a little

he tries to put that aside and they start to write this song, at first it’s weird because jack’s like “all your songs are love songs i can’t really relate to happy love songs” and bitty’s like “listen... i’ve never even had a boyfriend i just write a bunch of sappy love stuff because it’s not about me it’s about whoever’s listening to it, they’re gonna project their own experiences on my music anyway so it doesn’t matter if it’s my real life or not” and jack’s like “alright while fake af that’s smart and i respect you” (what bitty doesn't say is that he writes about what he really wants which is to fall in love & be in a happy relationship)

they say they’re just gonna write this kinda vague sad song but they both secretly write lines about their actual lives so it ends up being really personal and real and raw for the both of them

they sing the song at open mic that saturday and the crowd at annie’s is never that big but they’ve never got a standing ovation here before, and some girl shouts “MAKE AN ALBUM” (it may or may not be lardo) and they both blush furiously and bitty’s like “... that was really nice, jack” and jack’s like “... yeah it was good good job you’re really getting some confidence out there nice work” (bitty: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AAAAH”)

around this time jack’s really thinking about what he’s gonna do when he’s done at samwell, talking with his parents and his agent and looking into different record companies and deciding if he wants to sign with anyone or possibly start his own company- the head of a small company called falcon records in rhode island has been talking to him a lot, and jack talks to bitty about how he thinks it’d be nice to start small, and the record exec georgia and the producer marty had both been really nice and welcoming, and bitty’s so happy for him but also just... sad that he won’t be around jack every day after he graduates

THEN at a haus party celebrating their win of a local choral competition, who shows up but none other than pop star kent parson to Ruin The Fun

bitty sees the way jack pales when kent walks in, notices them disappear upstairs together and feels a little sick worrying about jack but chalks it up to the highly alcoholic concoction shitty and lardo had cooked up but nonetheless decides he’s sick of the party and goes up to his room and hears.... a little too much

and YIKES he’s standing right there and kent parson, pop star, two-time grammy winner, is looking a little rumpled and staring right at him and he puts his hat on and clears his throat and snaps at jack- “hey. well. call me if you reconsider. but good luck with rhode island. ...i’m sure that’ll make your parents proud.” and jack’s shaking, and bitty doesn’t know what to do but jack goes back into his room and bitty’s just kind of standing there like What The Fuck

so.... he kind of stews over winter break but tries not to think about it too much and he and jack text a bit and jack tells him to practice and bitty’s like “oh, you” and jack’s like “im serious” and bitty’s like “>:( it’s christmas”

spring semester starts and they're doing well in competitions and they go to semifinals and then finals for a prestigious collegiate choir competition and the pressure is mounting but they all are so optimistic and really feel like they're on the same page and bitty’s confidence is better than ever and then.... they don't win

jack especially takes it very hard, but then he also has signing to worry about, which everyone helps him with and he decides to sign with falcon records and start work on an album after graduation

speaking of graduation, shitty and jack graduate and it's hard for them but harder for bitty who feels like he's losing jack in a way, he knows how intense jack gets when he's making music and it doesn't feel like he'll have any time for bitty anymore so when they say goodbye bitty goes back to the haus and listens to his and jack's song and just cries

but, like in canon, dadbob has words of wisdom to impart and jack has an "oh" moment and races across campus to kiss bitty

they get together and the next few months are spent with jack working nonstop on his album (which tbh, he'd had many of the songs written already so it's mostly recording and producing) and texting bitty constantly and coming to visit him and playing him demos of all the songs

jack also asks bitty if they can record the song they wrote together & have it as a bonus track on his album & bitty says of course, so when jack visits they set up an impromptu studio and record vocals in the guest bedroom and this deeply personal song they wrote before they were ever together means so much more to them now

and bitty is so happy but so scared and sad too because jack is playing him these songs telling him "they're all for you bits, & a lot of them are about you" and he just doesn't know how he's going to keep all this love inside even though it feels like jack's career is at stake

he tries to shove it down and stay strong though, especially since he's now an upperclassman and they're taking on new members- connor "whiskey" whisk (voice like finneas or the male singer in valley), a music business/ management major who seems to hate bitty's guts and tony "tango" tangredi (like chaz cardigan), a jazz composition major who astounds everybody with his endless questions but also his ridiculously impressive composition skills & naturally perfect pitch (he can also play saxophone??)

i want ford in this au so fuck it she is a composition major with dreams to write scores for musicals and she stars training as a barista at annie's (aka training to corral the smcc)

the pressure of it all proves to be a lot and bitty and jack have their hi, honey moment where bitty's like i can't be this deep in the closet!!! and so they tell the smcc and also jack's label that they're together and that eases things a bit

jack's album comes out to much critical acclaim and shouting in the groupchat ("#1 ON ITUNES BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!") and several months later, when smcc has already been eliminated from choral competition in an earlier round, jack is nominated for SEVERAL grammys including best album, song of the year, and best new artist

when the time comes he takes his parents and bitty on the red carpet which, everyone keeps being like "who are you here with jack?" and he's like "my family and my good friend :)" and yes it is awkward

jack wins... all three awards. it's the comeback everyone is stoked to see and when his third win is announced, he and bitty are so elated that they kiss before he goes to accept the award

his speech is basically just "um... wow. thank you. i just kissed my boyfriend on live tv. this is amazing and i'm so humbled. i'd like to thank my boyfriend and georgia and marty and my parents and my friends and my boyfriend"

obviously the press has a FIELD DAY with this but bitty & jack are honestly vibing and so happy that it doesn't matter untiiiillll bitty's mom calls and he has to tell her "mama i'm gay and i'm going on tour with jack this summer okloveyoubye"

the last few months of bitty's junior year pass quickly and he's voted student director which is a huge honor considering how much he struggled with stage fright and confidence & how he'll now be stepping into ransom & holster's shoes

r&h and lardo all graduate (the smcc basically crashes the art school graduation and all scream when lardo gets her diploma lmao), which is a bittersweet occasion and they all do a bit of tearing up

that summer bitty goes on tour across the u.s. & canada with jack and his touring band (snowy is a bassist, tater is a drummer and poots does backing guitar, he also brings nursey to play violin on a few songs) as well as georgia who's there to manage logistics

and tour is so fun & chaotic with many bi and rainbow flags in the audience that end up thrown on stage and draped around jack's neck and they spend so many nights in the bus drinking and laughing and fooling around on the guitars and bitty's uke and exploring new cities bitty has never been to before and it's the freest bitty has felt in a long time

summer ends though, and jack leaves for the uk/europe leg of the tour, and with the new school year brings a few new members- river "bully" bullard (voice like gregory alan isakov), a music therapy major who draws his own cover art for his songs, lukas "louis" landmann (like jr jr), an electronic production and design major with a penchant for EDM, and johnathan "hops" hopper (like keiynan lonsdale), a film scoring major who wants to write music for movies and video games

bitty meets and befriends some of the other student directors- shruti, sd of the women’s contemporary chorus; sharon, sd of the chamber choir; and edgar, sd of jazz ensemble (even chad l., sd of the all-male a cappella group)

senior year passes similarly to the comic; coach visits and sees one of bitty’s competitions, jack comes to madison for christmas, smcc does well in competition and goes to regionals etc

however… bitty keeps putting off and putting off gathering the songs for his senior recital

he has a hard time doing that because he’s so focused on the group and making sure they’re performing well and as they advance in competition, everything else starts to fall away

eventually the rest of the smcc has to lock away his uke and change his youtube password and FORCE him to choose songs for it and start preparing because he cannot graduate without doing this recital and doing well on it

he chooses (of course) a beyonce song, a few of his own songs, an ellie goulding song, and an adele song

with all that his breath hitches and his hands shake before he goes on stage, he does really well and his voice instructor prof atley tears up a little in the audience as does his mom

meanwhile smcc goes to semifinals, then finals, of the national collegiate choral competition they participate in

and i imagine bitty faces somewhat less homophobia in this au because i mean, he’s in the performing arts, but i think it’s still there and he also faces a good amount of classism from richer students and performers who think they’re better because they had the resources and money to be performing professionally from a very young age, and he has been practicing via filming himself on a shitty camcorder and posting it to youtube

but they still get there! and the national finals are fucking HUGE and a big deal and a little overwhelming

bitty’s stage fright is Present because this is the biggest stage and the biggest stakes he's ever had and he has a big solo in one of their songs so if he fucks up, he fucks up a national championship for his whole group and school

luckily though, when he steps on the stage with his best friends and sees his boyfriend and family and smcc alums in the audience and they perform their first song, a high-energy pop medley that always gets the crowd going, everything seems to melt away and it's just him living in this moment and singing his heart out

when it gets to the next song and his solo, he forgets to be nervous and belts it out, getting screams of approval from the audience when he finishes

(dex and nursey do have a duet together that they had to practice for many long nights in the practice rooms alone but that's neither here nor there)

their time on stage seems to last both hours and no time at all and then they're done, the crowd gives them a standing ovation and it's at least 30% r&h & shitty's hooting and hollering and jack's enthusiastic clapping that makes bitty & the others beam with pride

then it's just waiting, giddy and nervous beyond belief in their green room, for the judging to be over

after what feels like forever they're back on stage, arms linked together waiting and hoping for their name to be called and it is, they win and it feels like years have built up to this moment, and bitty tears up because years ago when he was fainting from anxiety at having to perform in front of people he never could've imagined that he'd do this, that he'd be the student director that led them to a championship

they get the trophy and a ridiculous amount of flowers from their loved ones and they all are just in giddy disbelief that this is happening, they're national champs!!! they are the best choir boys in the nation!!

they come home and the rest of the school year passes by so quickly that it's very suddenly graduation and bitty can't believe his college career at samwell is over 😢

(he and ollie and wicky take pictures together, o&w talk about how excited they are to devote full time attention to their band & wedding planning and bitty's just like wait you're gay??)

bitty got plenty of offers from record companies but he likes his freedom of creativity and he has a built in fanbase from doing youtube all these years so he decides to make an album independently (jack helps him produce & master it 🥰)

when bitty's album comes out about a year later, full of bops about being gay and in love and having struggled but come out the other side more confident than ever, it doesn't get any grammy nominations- and he didn't expect or need that.

what it does do is it resonates. it makes the rounds in youtube and queer internet circles; people his age reach out to him saying this is the music they wish they had as a kid and kids reach out to him saying he's a role model and they're so glad to have his music to listen to. his album is written about as an underrated gem that shines with queer brilliance and is sure to start a party when it comes on.

his parents may not fully understand the road he's chosen for himself but they're still so proud and promote the album as hard as any of his loyal fans (especially the one country-inspired song on the album that he wrote and dedicated to them).

and jack, jack who saw this album from its infancy to its release date, who took the film photo that ended up being the album cover, who worked with bitty to make sure his vision was realized exactly how he wanted it to be, is proud beyond words.

jack starts using his semi-abandoned twitter again to tweet "stream [album name]" every day and bitty retweets them sometimes, with just a "this boy. ❤"

and they're happy. they're good. they have come so far and they are reaping the rewards of all the hard work they put in to make the music that they truly love.

the end :)

[rosesvioletshardy]

mr. perfectly fine - mat barzal

okay first ever fic for Mat and I really hope you all like it. sorry it took so long i've been busy with school and work and the only time i got to work on it was in the middle of the night and it's finally done. sorry that it’s really long i sort of got carried away with it and if it's really bad

i got the idea for the fic after Taylor released the song and i lowkey got some mat vibes on some of the lyrics 

(please note this is fiction and just like my nolan “all too well” fic, i don’t think that mat is like this as a person and would not be like this)

masterlist

mat masterlist

warnings: angst, fluff, mainly angst

# of words: 3,550

Being with Mat was something you never thought would happen. From the moment the two of you met the first time to where you currently were it felt like it was all just a dream. He would tell you stupid jokes that would always make you laugh, try to make you breakfast or dinner, if you were upset he’ll start singing off-key while holding you to make you give him a small smile. It wasn’t like that anymore. No more stupid jokes, attempted dinners or breakfast, and off-key singing.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Mr. "I've been waitin' for you all my life"

Mr. "Every single day until the end, I will be by your side"

It was the morning. The morning after 1 year of being together. You had everything planned for a nice dinner, a walk back to the apartment before a night of activities. The sunlight was creeping into yours and Mat’s bedroom through the closed curtains as your eyes began to flicker open. Mat was still asleep, his hand lightly touching yours, mouth parted open a bit and his hair now messy as a piece of his face in his face. Everything about him just felt perfect and the moment felt perfect.

“I can feel you staring at me and it’s rude.” he mumbled in his sleep, feeling your eyes on him causing you to giggle as he pulled you in

“Well I’m sorry Mr. Perfect. You just have such a beautiful face, nice features I can’t help but stare.” you told him before giving him a kiss. Pulling away, the two of you stared at each other for a small moment. Nothing but silence between you two before you spoke up again

“What’s going through that head of yours? I can see the gears in your head tuning and overworking.” you said to him while rubbing his hand, trying to calm him down

“Nothing, just thinking about how much I love you. I know we’ve only been dating for a year, but I wanted you to know that I don’t think I could imagine myself anywhere else or with anyone else.” he said before continuing

“I promise you I will never go away. I’m going to be with you every single day, by your side, and how we’ll work out every single one of our problems when we run into them until we’re old and gray. I didn’t think I’d meet someone like you and I’ve waited for it to meet someone like you. I want to be with you until the end when we’re old and gray.” he said

When he said that you could help but kiss him. He wasn’t shocked to say the least but he returned the favor and kissed you back. Pulling away, your foreheads touching as he gave you one last peck. Everything in that moment felt right as he held you in silence

You knew that’s where you should’ve been cautious. Making promises that you can’t keep like the ones he made. The only promises he was capable of making that he fulfilled were protecting you when it came to feeling unsafe at times and coming back home from long roadies. You never suspected anything because you always thought everything would be alright, especially if he was out with Beau or any of his other friends but sometimes they never suspected anything either. You didn’t blame them seeing that you weren’t dating them or anything but it would’ve been nice for them to tell you what happened sometimes. Now you were thinking about everything all over again even though you promised yourself you wouldn’t give into any thoughts of him no matter what and tried to block it all off.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone, " I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

Your relationship with Mat was odd to say. You both understood that there were days that you needed to be alone even if you wanted to help each other. It was worse with Mat because he would hold everything back most of the time and not tell you what’s going on with him. The worst was when he would get up and leave. It felt like someone had just stabbed you and all you could do was just go lay down and think about every small thought that could make you cry.

Your friends have helped you get over him when you two broke it off, after allowing yourself to wallow and take time for yourself. The hardest was having to wake up in a bed alone without him holding you, his hand on your leg, or your head on his chest.

It’s been 2 weeks since he called it off. 2 weeks since you’ve seen his face that wasn’t on the tv. You knew you had to get over him sometime but every time you saw him or someone had mentioned him, your heart broke all over again. Anthony has tried calling you multiple times to see what happened and why Mat was in a mood during practices and games. You didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened seeing that it should be Mat who does so. You didn’t know whether or not it was worth watching the games and hockey entirely anymore. It annoyed Mat whenever the team and wags asked about you and why you weren’t going to any home games, or why you were never answering any messages they’ve sent. He would simply just ignore them or pretend that he didn’t hear.

“Hey so is Y/N coming to celebrate? We haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Yeah, we miss her.”

“Well she’s busy so you won’t be seeing her anytime soon” Mat finally snapped

Everyone stayed quiet after that and didn’t ask anymore questions as they left to go celebrate. You knew that they would be celebrating due to the fact that they’re one step closer to going to the playoffs. You haven’t done anything other than manage to hide the fact that you got your heart broken and have to force yourself to get out of your bed since those 2 weeks. Your friends have come and checked up on you but they knew that you needed space and will come out on your own.

Hello, Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breakin' mine?

Mr. "Always at the right place at the right time," baby

Hello, Mr. "Casually cruel"

Mr. "Everything revolves around you"

I've been Miss Misery since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You’d never thought you’d run into him again, especially seeing and remembering his schedule all the time and the routes he takes. It wasn’t your fault you ran into him and it wasn’t his either. Mat had spotted you hiding in between the fruits and vegetables. You had no choice but to face him seeing that you didn’t want to cause a scene by running away and leaving everything. He still looked the same but his hair was a little longer and some stubble of his beard was growing in. Mat couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked. He always thought that you could be wearing a garbage bag and still look beautiful. There wasn’t any between the two of you other than the faint music playing from the speakers

“Hey.” he said with a smile

“Hi.” you answered, voice barely above a whisper and trying to avoid looking at him

“How have you been? It’s been awhile since what happened and I wanted to see how you were” mat asked knowing it was probably a stupid question seeing that he broke your heart

“I’ve been okay. You know always busy with school and work” lie

It wasn’t entirely a full lie seeing you’ve been doing your schoolwork and going but you haven’t been to work since those few weeks

“That’s good”

“How have you been? I heard about your recent win” you asked him wanting to change the subject and quickly finish the conversation

“I’m doing great, and yeah no one suspected that I’d make the goal but you know, guess I was lucky. Just really glad that Nelson was there with the assist to help me out before shooting” he chuckled a bit. He’s been shooting goals and living his dream while you drown in your own misery by listening to your depression playlists on repeat and going back into old habits. Mat could see that you were lying but he didn’t want to say anything. The most he could do was nod and smile knowing how much he hurt you

“That’s good. Always knew that you could make any shot no matter the situation. Always at the right place and the right time.” you smiled trying not to tear up knowing that he’s living his best life at the moment. He smiled back and was about to say something before you both got interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing

“It was nice seeing you again Mat. Hope you win the cup this year.” you tell him while giving a small smile before leaving

Mr. "Never told me why"

Mr. "Never had to see me cry"

Mr. "Insincere apology so he doesn't look like the bad guy"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

Trying to wrap around everything that happened the day he broke up with you hurt but you had to figure out why he did it. The thing about Mat was that he sometimes would never tell you how he was feeling and you’d have to read off the signals he was giving from his body language and at times he was good at hiding those too. One moment you were getting ready to go out then next you’re at Julie’s crying into her shirt as she rubbed your back.

Taking days off where you just needed to focus on yourself were always needed. The entire day you wouldn’t use your phone, unless it was an emergency, and you would try to treat yourself to a good day. You’ve managed to go to the gym and workout not caring if people were staring at you, you went out for a nice lunch and decided to try something you’ve never had before. It was going well until during your lunch you saw him again. He was by himself and at his stuff with him which meant he must’ve come out of practice. He hasn’t changed much since the grocery store but this time you knew he had a girlfriend. Mat must’ve known you were staring at him because he looked up as soon as you got up to leave and waved you over to join him. It’s not like you hated him with a passion, it’s just you still didn’t feel comfortable or confident enough to ask him why he wanted to break things off.

“Hey Y/N, it’s good to see you again” Mat said with a smile as you sat down

“It’s good to see you too.” you said back to him trying to hide the fake smile

“So how’s everything” you asked him trying to make it less awkward

“Um, before we talk, I just wanted to apologize. I know I wasn’t the best boyfriend when we were together but I’m trying to change. Before you interrupt and say something, save it. I was wrong to hurt you like that”

You didn’t know what to say and sat there shocked. It was hard to tell whether or not he truly meant it due to his body language but you brushed it off and told him it was fine

“Mat, don’t worry you know. It happens. So what is going on? How’s hockey? I see pre-seasons about to start” “Yes it is and I know this season we’re going to make the playoffs and win the cup” He started as you began to zone off. You couldn’t help but realize that he was just like the rest of them; every other guy you’ve dated or even went on one date with.

Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

And I never got past what you put me through

But it's wonderful to see that it never fazed you

Social media was sometimes cruel to you but it wasn’t their fault entirely that people decided to post about their personal lives on there. You haven’t really checked anything in a month thinking it was best to limit social media for your own mental health. Occasionally you would check for any news but otherwise it was for the best to delete them all. It was a good breather. No one has tried contacting you about any celebrity gossip that was happening. You knew your friends would post pictures of you (with your permission of course) but other than that, they completely respected your choice of not posting or liking anything.

You were currently out with some friends for lunch after a long week of being busy and needing a day to each other. They were telling you all about everything that’s going on in their life and were about to show you pictures from their siblings' wedding. When one of them handed you their phone, your finger hit the home button again and took you to the top of the timeline. As soon as it hit the top, you felt your heart stop and drop all the way down to your stomach. It was Mat with his arm around a girl as they both laughed and looked each other in the eyes. You knew he’d move on quickly but you didn’t know exactly when they got together. Julie was the first one to notice your face and took the phone from your hands to see what made you react the way you did. Everyone gathered around before looking back at you and giving you their sympathy. It wasn’t their fault that they still followed him on social media and you had no problem with it, it was what you heard ended up being true.

“Babe, i’m so-”

“No, it's fine. I mean he’s allowed to move on. People don't always move on at the same time and if that’s how quickly he moves on, then that’s okay. You know? I need to focus on myself. That means taking my time to heal whether it ends up being weeks, a month, or a year. I’m taking my own time to find myself. I’ve overheard him talking to someone from when I ran into him and Anthony but it’s nothing now.” you let out all in one breath as your friends sat there in silence as you handed them their phone back.

The rest of the lunch no one bothered to open their phone unless it was their work, family, etc. they kept glancing at you throughout the entire lunch to see if they were able to read your face and how you were really feeling but they couldn’t get anything. It did hurt to see him with someone new but as you said you need to pick up your heart. The thing was you couldn’t. You remembered everything from that night and at times it’ll haunt you in your dreams, everything feeling real and having to constantly relive your heartbreaking over and over again.

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Sashay your way to your seat

It's the best seat, in the best room

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

As you came out of the hotel bathroom ready for the night, you saw Mat standing in the mirror fixing his tie. It was the night of the NHL awards where he was nominated for the Calder Rookie of the Year award. You stood there for a while admiring him as he caught your eyes in the mirror.

“You know, instead of standing there and admiring your hot boyfriend, you can help me fix this.”

“Who says I can’t do both?” you asked walking over to him and making sure that his tie was straightened and not crooked

“I’m proud of you. You deserve this award so much.”

“By the way, Tito is also coming but since he didn’t know if you agreed or not, he’s also my date.” he said holding your waist and pulling you in to kiss you to distract you

“Mmm okay. At this point I’m not shocked. Now c’mon, your family and your “date” are waiting for you in the lobby.” you told him while taking his hands off your waist and grabbing one of them to drag him to the awards before he made you both late

The awards were going by smoothly and Mat wasn’t joking when he said that Anthony was going to be there as they pretended to take pictures the way you and Mat would. You didn’t mind it though because you knew what their friendship meant to each other and knew Mat would do the same if Anthony were ever to be nominated for something this big. During his speech, he was trying not to sound smug and let his ego show, especially only being a rookie and having his whole life ahead of him within the NHL. You couldn’t help but admire the way he talked and how he stood up there from a seat that you didn’t realize how good they were until he was up there. When he came back, the smile didn’t leave his face for the rest of the night. It was another win in his book but he didn’t want to be smug about it even if you knew.

And it's really such a shame

It's such a shame

'Cause I was Miss "Here to stay"

Now I'm Miss "Gonna be alright someday"

And someday maybe you'll miss me

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

The first person who was there for you after the break up was Julie. Your best friend who you told everything to. She knew something was wrong as soon as you were at her doorstep in the middle of the night. Julie knew something was wrong with Mat a few months before the breakup but she didn’t want to say anything to make you upset but you knew she was right and you ignored all the signs. She supported you with every decision you made afterwards and thought you were right to take time to focus on yourself before getting into another relationship. The moment you told her you were seeing some she was happy that you were moving on and told her that you were going to be okay. You were happy that you’ve got to notice what you really needed and that your life didn’t always need to revolve around a man. Mat has tried to get into contact with Julie and apologize but he was late to it. You’ve moved on from him and he needed to know.

Goodbye, Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breakin' mine?

Mr. "Always at the right place at the right time," baby

Goodbye, Mr. "Casually cruel"

Mr. "Everything revolves around you"

I've been Miss Misery for the last time

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

“How do you feel?” Julie asked as you looked in the mirror for the last time

“Honestly? I still feel upset but it’s time to move on and go ahead with my life. He’s no longer dating me and I’ve accepted it but I’ve met someone new and he’s all that’s on my mind” you told her with smile on your face while turning to face her

“I’m proud of you. You’ve been Miss Misery for the last time and now you’ve grown up.” Julie faked cried but still feeling proud

“I feel like it too. He’s moved on and his heart doesn’t seem to be broken and mine is on the mend and forgetting about him. I just know that he’s perfectly fine the way he is and I don’t need it anymore. I felt like being with him, I was always in the shadows and I know he’s a professional hockey player, but I felt like there was just never time for “just us” like it always felt like it only revolved around him and I didn’t need that anymore.” you smiled while letting out a deep breath.

You're perfectly fine

Mr. "Look me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

You said you'd never go away

He promised and he always told himself he’ll keep the promise of never going away and fulfill it someday. Sometimes when you meet someone that’s what you think, but sometimes it never does and they break your heart in the end

[letstalkabouttvshows]

The long overdue Malex reunion , here some of my thoughts (it might get a bit long, but well, what can you do?🤷🏻‍♀️)

Was I surprised with the amount of progress we got in 3x08? Yes. Did I think the writers would deliver this Malex perfection? Not at all. At least not right now.

Did it make sense though? YES 👏🏻 A 👏🏻THOUSAND👏🏻 TIMES 👏🏻 YES 👏🏻

Here's the main reason: Roswell NM uses A LOT the off screen, fill in the blanks trick.

It has been that way since season 1. So much so that when I started binging the show, one of my first thoughts was: "They sure like to make the audience assume a lot instead of showing it"

Is this a bad thing? Overall, no. Especially when done it right.

Do I believe RNM should ease a bit on let the viewers fill the blank spaces thing? Yes. I think they should.

We are seeing right now how can it go wrong with the lack of mentioning Kyle, for instance. 💔

It just would be better for us, viewers, if there was a nod or something, and not just "ah ok, I'm assuming they all know already where's Kyle". Because people can assume right or wrong and that's where trouble lives.

Again, season 3 is so much better than the previous two when it comes to storytelling. They are fixing the mistakes of season 2 and they are delivering a main arc story that gets us hooked. Bravo! 🌟 To me, they are finally living up to the potential of the show!

But again, fill in the blanks is a thing with them.

So, when it comes to Malex being back, we have to see their story as a whole, since season 1 and not just the events of season 3.

It's everything that happened between them until now.

Luckily for us, the fill in the blanks exercise is much easier to do and to be convinced by it because:

Vlamis and Tyler understood the assignment

Props, props to them. The chemistry between these two is absurd. It's organic, they play off each other so very well and it shows ever since 1x01. Chef's chef's kiss 😘

Michael and Tyler clearly love these characters and love the story they carry. They are invested in telling it right and they do it effortlessly.

Malex doesn't need to have a single line of dialogue and we still can sense their deep love for each other.

To have this kinda of dynamic in a show it's gold. A story can be well written but can reach another level depending who is portraying it. It can be so much more, for the best.

RNM was perfect on the cast of the cosmic not-so-idiots-anymore love story.

If Malex is the fan favorite duo it is, it's because Vlamis and Tyler delivered and keep delivering on each episode.

So everything about 3x08 was a culmination of fill in the blanks, the narrative of 3 and a half seasons and everything in between.

>>>Malex wasn't rushed<<<

These two characters have been in love for 12-13 years.

They genuinely, sincerely, with all they have love each other despite all the chaos surrounding them.

They've tried to run away from it, tried to move on from it, and they still ended up heading towards the other.

Michael is in love with Alex. Always has been, always will. Alex is in love with Michael. Always has been, always will.

That's just the way it is in this little alien story. 👽

Alex poured his heart into a song because he has never been able to say the words. "Wish I found the words when we were 17".

Michael heard the lyrics but walked away because he still was a few steps behind Alex. Not in terms of love, but in terms of moving on from trauma. "Alex is past that. He's past you. He's past me" 💔💔💔

So season 3 begins.

A year has gone by and Michael was hopeful to see Alex again. He didn't walk away in 2x13 because he didn't want to be with Alex, but because he did. Alex, on the other hand, was trying to move forward since Michael left.

For these two cosmic idiots with no communication skills whatsoever, Malex was officially just friends. With tons of baggage, but just that.

The sadness in Michael's eyes when he saw Alex at the bus station with somebody else. 💔

Then, Forrest presented two options for Alex. Walk away from crazy discoveries or stay and go deep into DS. The minute Alex said "aliens?" We knew Alex reasoning behind the question.

He definetely would choose finding out more about the aliens his family was obsessed with. And he did make that choice. Because that choice ultimately meant and revealed he was not ready to walk away from Michael.

Michael, in the chaos of clones and family lineage, went to see Alex in 3x03 and harsh truths were delivered by Alex but, again, it was everything Michael needed to hear.

Even though we could see Alex was trying to hold his own when it came to Michael, in the end of harsh sincerity, he could not resist to say: "wait". And then, he gave Michael the push to progress.

They stayed apart, figuring their own things out. 6 and 3/4 episodes apart.

After a few days in Roswell time, their paths crossed again. Turned out they were working the same case, kinda.

And then 3x08 hit 🔥

They have been apart for most of the first half of the season and with two interactions full of tension. But the story that led up to 3x08 put things in perspective.

And Alex was the one to see it.

If 3x08 taught us something, it's that Alex Manes can put his emotions aside and see things with analytical skills.

With a psycho alien dictator on the loose and with an emotional connection to his cosmic cowboy idiot, Alex needed to step up to handle hot headed Michael and make sure he was safe.

He saw that if he kept defensive, Michael would too.

So, he let his guard down and told the truth. About DS and about why he joined. He knew Michael would listen if he was sincere.

"I did it for you. A world where you feel safe is not gonna built itself. So I had to try. For us".

Here is two people that know they love each other but they just don't talk about it.

He then used some words again when he had to make sure Michael wasn't going to let his emotions get the best of him.

You could see in Alex's face when he looked at Michael right before sharing the story of how he injured his leg that he had to share that one to make sure Michael would listen.

"I lost a piece of me in many ways [...] Guerin, you are the one piece I can't go through life without".

For somebody who could not find the words for so long, Alex finally found them 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻

And then, he continued to do so when they were at the Pony, being open and honest about the machine and DS.

>>>1/2 cosmic idiot full circle complete<<

Now onto Michael.

We've seen Michael take huge steps to become better at living and not just being a pit of anger and trauma issues.

It started with "breaking old patterns", for a second went to self loathing again, and then took a whole force with "You decide who you are. If you give up, it's on you".

Michael listened to Alex and decided to be better for "the people that matter". It's not a head scratch to assume along the list of important people that Alex was on the top of it.

We saw Michael on a mission.

Apologizing to Rosa "I didn't think I should have a life if Rosa ortecho didn't". "Maybe there's hope for me too". Protecting Kyle. Working to keep everyone safe.

Michael grew.

And then, he found out Alex hadn't give up on them. He got to see Alex be vulnerable. He got to hear how Alex loves him still.

For a full day there, he didn't have to be defensive because Alex wasn't being it. Michael followed Alex's lead and didn't let his emotions take over him. He followed the plan. He trusted.

Thoroughout 3x08 we saw Michael be better for the person on top of his list.

With defensiveness aside, all Malex moments were gold and everything it should be.

But their last scene, at the Pony, was the culmination of it all. Of the weight of their story, of their growing and their time apart.

At the table, both Alex and Michael found common ground by being clear, honest and by compromising for each other out of their feelings for one another.

Alex by then had brought all his walls downs. His smiles and lightness said it all. Michael saw it. And Michael, well Michael, finally chose talking instead of assuming, accept help instead of rejecting it, work together instead of doing alone.

"Maybe it is". "I completely get it". "One mission at a time". "I'm looking forward to it".

But the last scene though, was them coming together and turning the page with a kiss that was as intense as it was soft, sweet, tender and full of longing.

They went cosmic ... again!

With "I'm confused, though. What mission are you working in right now?", Michael made his move.

He stood up, took his hat off and kissed the love of his life to make it clear that he was fighting for them too. With no room to question who has his heart.

>>> 1/2 of cosmic idiot full circle complete<<<

With sighs of wonder and smiles of relief, Malex turned a chapter in their cosmic story. 💜🌌👽🌟

And it made an universe of sense.

[parkers-gal]

Can you please write one where the reader is singing about her ex and breaks down crying and Tom comforts her

if you’ve seen the bbc videos of ari g then this will make a lot more sense <3 (i subconsciously chose ag!reader for this so... enjoy) 

wc | 1.5k

｡☆✼★━━ requests are closed ━━★✼☆｡

Today, you’ve planned to record every song off of your thank u, next album with BBC radio in the Live Lounge, just as you did years ago with a few songs from sweetener. It’s been almost three years since your number one album came out, and some of the songs are still yet to be performed live.

You love recording with BBC radio — your band and backup singers are just as included as you are, and there’s always a few invited fans up on the balcony to silently sing along. This isn’t the BBC special, considering you didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. But, because you decided to opt out of the television special, you’ve decided to include a few unperformed songs like “in my head” and “ghostin.”

Clad in a black hoodie, faded jeans and thick platform sneakers, you’re seated on the bar stool in front of the microphone stand. The keyboard player sits behind your right side, your backup singers in a studio box beside his set up. To your left is the drummer and two guitar players — one on the bass and the other on the electric guitar.

In front of you, behind the camera lens, seats Tom in his famous shit happens! Hoodie. His curls are messy and he wears a genuine smile, beaming at you while you put in your in-ears.

With a nod to the camera man, you give your final look of approval to the drummer before the camera starts rolling and the intro to “imagine” starts playing. Tom clasps his hands on his lap; he’s sitting cross legged on a shaggy rug with your favorite stuffed animal in his arms. He’s got a blanket beside him despite the fact that he’s perfectly content with his hoodie and jeans. He looks so soft and gentle, and you want nothing more than to sit beside him and sing your heart out, but alas, you stay put and settle on locking eyes with him while you belt the chorus to the first track of your fifth studio album.

Eventually, the song ends, and after successfully doing the whistles, you take a gulp of water before giving the producer another thumbs up. “Needy” plays and you start singing the intro with as much emotion as you can muster — the album makes you nostalgic. You made it during a time of heartbreak and self deprivation, where you were drunk off your ass and all you had was music to therapize yourself. It brings all those emotions back in a rushing flood of remembrance.

But here, in front of you after so much time, you see Tom with a supporting smile and eye dimples that make you want to write a thousand songs about him. You have love you didn’t have before, and that’s enough.

For the first time ever, you perform “in my head” live. You can already tell that twitter is going to flip when the video releases. As you sing the verses, you try to contain up as much consistency as you can, though your voice wavers slightly and you can feel yourself getting emotional. You power through, though, and when the song finally ends, you release a deep breath and drink some water.

Tom mouths a question, wondering if you’re alright. You assure him as best you can, giving him a small smile and a little thumbs up. You have approximately two minutes to compose yourself, seeing as they’ve brought in a few strings players for the next song. You’re singing the album slightly out of order — not that it matters much, but you are.

The producer, who’s behind the camera, gives you another notion with his hands, informing you silently that the next song is starting. You nod, setting down your bottled water and waiting for your cue.

With a shaky inhale, you let the beginning of “ghostin” consume your body. You’ve done this in the studio, when you first recorded the song. But it’s been so long since you've sung the song all the way through. And even then, you’ve never done it publically.

You take a deep breath one last time before you start singing. You see Tom from the corner of your eye, and you remind yourself that everything is okay, and that these wounds are healed and you’ve grown from the tragedy that was captured in your music.

You finish the chorus for the first time, successfully making it through the first verse. Not without a few stumbles and sniffles, though. When you begin on the second verse, everything comes rushing back to you — moments with Mac and moments with Pete, and moments with Pete where you’re grieving Mac and breaking Pete’s heart. It’s all too much at once and you realize you should’ve tried to rehearse it beforehand.

You wince at yourself, face contorting into that of a pained expression while you attempt to prolong the waterworks. You gasp into the microphone, skipping a few beats and a line in the verse to somehow compose yourself.

Everyone seems to be on edge, realizing how this might not play over well. Tom, though, is especially on edge, antsy while he watches you. He’s reading your body language, decoding your silent thoughts. He knows you’re going to break any second, he knows you’re not going to make it through the song, and while that’s okay, he knows you might not think so. He wants to be there, though, when you do break. It’s his job.

Your hands are shaky while you move up to grip the microphone in hopes of reminding yourself of where you are and what you’re doing. It’s a lost cause, though. You gasp into the microphone again, and suddenly you’re sobbing into the speaker.

You mumble out a quick, “I’m sorry,” before rushing out of the room, stepping off the chair and making your way away from the cameras as quickly as possible. You can hear a few gasps and murmurs from the few fans and the stage crew members, but you don’t pay them any mind,

Tom was off his ass as fast as you were, dropping the stuffed toy and racing after you with crazy curls and furrowed brows.

“Love? Love,” his gentle hands grip your arms and you gasp again, trying to breathe through your thick sobs. He shushes you, “It’s alright, baby. I’m here, I’m here, It's just me.”

You’re hidden away in his chest, nodding as best you can. Tom’s heart breaks as he feels you come apart in his hands. He doesn’t cry, though, not when he needs to make sure you’re okay,

Your nimble hands grip his hoodie tightly, balling up the cloth in your fists. Tom holds you carefully, arms around your waist while he tries to help you control your breathing.

“In ‘nd out, like this, yeah?” You nod, following his heavy breaths. “Everything’s gonna be okay.” He sucks in a breath, unsure on how to approach the topic. “You were good enough, baby. Everything that happened isn’t your fault — it never was, and it never will be.”

You peer up at him, lifting your head and wiping your eyes, You sniffle again, and Tom turns his head in hopes of finding a box of tissues. He’s grateful when a crew member is already standing by with a box in his hands. He leaves the two of you be after successfully handing Tom the box.

“Here, love,” he strokes your back with his hand while you blow your nose into the tissue. After a few silent beats, he breaks the quietness. “Y'alright, darling?”

You nod, wiping your nose with the edge of your palm before pulling the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your hands. You use the sleeves to wipe at the stray tears, and when you finally look at Tom, you wearily smile gratefully.

“Thank you, Tommy.” Your voice is timid and gentle, quite a contrast to the way he heard you singing not twenty minutes ago — before “ghostin” fucked with your mind. “Don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“Of course, my love.” He offers a smile, one you slowly return. “You wanna go back out there?”

You nod, silently leading the way while anxiously rubbing your palms on your jean-clad thigh. As soon as you step back into the Live Lounge, a round of applause goes around until everyone is clapping and cheering for you, including Tom. It warms your heart, and you laugh for the first time after crying, right into the microphone for everyone to hear.

“Thank you all so much,” you swallow thickly while the clapping settles down. “I’m so sorry about that. Let's give this another try, yeah?”

The producer mouths something at you, “Are you sure?”

You nod, almost excitedly, and he speaks into his headset. The camera starts rolling and the strings start “ghostin’s” introduction. With one final deep breath, you lock eyes with your sweet British boy right as you start the first verse again. This time, you make it all the way through. For the first time.

[lansyuan]

do you love fics where wei wuxian and lan wangji parent the crap out of lan sizhui? do you want to read accidental baby acquisition fics until your eyes bleed? would you die as your heart slowly turns to mush from the softness of this family? bitch the fuck, me too. here are some of my personal favourite fics of wangxian ft their turnip son a-yuan. its a range of canon divergence, post canon, thirteen years of inquiry, raising a-yuan at the burial mounds au etc - there’ll be something for literally everyone. enjoy!

the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser (38k+)

When A-Yuan gets sick and Wen Qing doesn't have the supplies she needs to properly treat him, Wei Wuxian can only think of one place to go for help. 

a crying shame by thunderwear (16k+)

Lan Wangji gets emotionally blackmailed by a toddler. It somehow fixes everything.

to recollect and long for by wonderlands (22k+) *2/3 works posted at time of posting this rec list.

a 3-part series about best boy lan sizhui and his wonderful dads who love him and each other very much.

forgetting envies, remembering your loving hold by cosmicfuss (3k+)

The first time Zewu-jun plays for him he is five and the man is trying to comfort him, playing soft songs good for soothing children. It works to a degree but he wants his gege, he wants his gege to play his lullaby. Zewu-jun apologizes and tells him that his gege is hurting right now, and needs to be alone to get better.

When he plays the xiao, A-Yuan says, "you're holding it wrong!" When he turns fourteen, he learns to play guqin, and is many years ahead of his classmates in that regard. A large factor in that is how much he has practiced Inquiry. He has grown up hearing snippets from the jingshi, of Wangji attempting to reach a spirit that never answers.

When he's sixteen, he hears a familiar tune played in the forest, he and his fellow juniors battling a stone god. It's been years since he's heard it, and he wonders why this man, Mo Xuanyu, knows it so well.

Or, Lan Sizhui grows up and learns, and remembers.

five times wei wuxian tried to embarrass lan sizhui by blackelement7 (6k+)

(and one time he realized just how badly he'd played himself)

or: In which Wei Wuxian starts a fight but Lan Sizhui (with some meddling from Lan Jingyi) ends it.

inquiry by incendir (10k+)

Sizhui cannot fall asleep for a long, long time that night. He hears the ever-familiar melody again. He thinks perhaps he has memorized it by now.

storge by respira (9k+)

Lan Sizhui is a lake.

as the warren grows in number by kore_fics (3k+)

Before Sizhui could take another step he was surrounded by black and red, loud laughter in his ears and warm fingers running through his hair, messing it up. Palms squished both his cheeks together and Lan Sizhui let out a laugh.

Lan Sizhui was home.

tell some storm* by qurbat (31k+) *the moments with Sizhui are in chapter 2, however I highly recommend reading the whole fic, it’s adorable.

"We were raised as a generation of war, A-Yuan," Xian-gege said to him. "If your generation choses to be one of love - well, I don't think any of us would be opposed to that."

In the aftermath of the events at the Guanyin temple, the cultivation world scrambles to understand their current reality. A man roams the countryside with a string of white in his hair. Another sits on the highest seat of power with a ribbon of red around his forehead. The younger generation turns out to be full of romantics. Nie Huaisang is to blame for everything, always. Jiang Cheng realizes that happiness has been more that 16 years overdue.

Wei Wuxian declares that it's time that bitch pays up.

After a generation of war - much to the consternation of the elders, much to the delight of the young, much to the pleased shock of the subjects of the tale - the world welcomes a love story with open arms.

guess we're not eating leaves today by missingnarwhal (2k+)

Baby A-Yuan has cooked up a feast, but only one lucky gege will actually get to taste it!

Set in an alternate timeline where everything is okay after Wei Ying + Wens started living in the Burial Mounds.

response by aki_no_hikari (12k+)

What if Wei Wuxian hadn't been silent to Lan Wangji's Inquiry?

love, in all its small pieces by ynvel (4k+)

Ah Yuan is brought to the Cloud Recesses and exchanges the sun and its ashes for the clouds. Lan Wangji brings a boy home, calls him his son, and renews the promises he made.

Or: Lan Sizhui is adopted by Lan Wangji and learns about his new life. Lan Wangji in turn learns about hope and living again.

child surprise by ariaste (4k+)

He huffs a sigh. “Fine. Just - let’s just make it the law of surprise, shall we? That’s nice and simple, eh? Leave it up to destiny what will bring us back in balance. Let it drop something of yours into my lap, something small, and we’ll call the debt paid.”

Three debts, three repayments.

there's a lunatic in mo village by bastetcg (11k+)

There's a lunatic in Mo Village! And to Lan Sizhui's surprise, Hanguang-Jun has decided to bring the madman back to the Cloud Recesses! How embarrassing!

A mostly canon-compliant look into Lan Sizhui's thoughts and childhood.

on being a big boy by emberloey (1k+)

“My little A-Yuan,” Dad had said the next morning, kneeling down to A-Yuan’s height with a smile, “all grown up now. Soon you’ll be hunting without your poor old dads.”

“Never!” A-Yuan shook his head and latched onto Father’s leg. He smiled up at Father, who smiled back and nodded his head. “A-Yuan always needs Dad and Father!”

in all these shades of blue (i think we found you) by fleetling (5k+)

5 times Sizhui thought about his father's white robes, and 1 time Lan Wangji wore blue.

(Or: Lan Sizhui had never seen his father in anything other than white robes.)

this is when the feeling sinks in, i don't want to miss you like this (come back, be here) by mischievousmurmurs (6k+)

Just now… the butterflies’ conversation. Where did you learn that from, Ah-Yuan?

Ah-Yuan pats his chest. In here, shushu. I feel it in here. And in here, too, he adds, pointing to his head.

Sizhui has never quite been able to remember nor forget the memory of seeing people who he knows loved each other, loved him, and whom he loved in return.

or - a wangxian story, as told by their adopted son.

yours, mine, and ours by casecous (2k+)

When they have both mostly recovered, and A-Yuan is back to his smiling, playful self, Lan Wangji presents him with a forehead ribbon. A-Yuan’s little fingers bump into Lan Wangji’s thumbs as he traces the cloud motif along it.

“You are Lan now. This is very important,” Lan Wangji tells him and A-Yuan looks away from the ribbon to meet his eyes. “You must not take it off as you please. Only family may touch it.”

A series of wangxian family moments.

innocence by snowberryrose (8k+)

In which Wei WuXian gets to raise A-Yuan.

Canon divergence from episode 31.

to recollect and long for by mme_anxious (4k+)

Lan Xichen is there when his brother becomes a father. Lan Sizhui is there when his father's heart breaks, again. Wei Wuxian is there when his son gets drunk for the first time.

Or, the GusuLan forehead ribbon, in three parts.

our little one by writedeku (6k+)

A-Yuan is here. A-Yuan, who Wei Ying loved so much. A-Yuan, who was taught to laugh just like him. Wangji hugs him to his chest and curls over him, ignoring the way the wounds on his back pull and tear. “I have to take care of you,” he says. “I will not leave you.”

(Or: Lan Wangji comes back from Yiling with a child he does not know how to care for and a black hole in his chest. Somehow, he makes it work.)

gathered herbs & sweet grasses by hansbekhart (19k+)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

the sacred homeland by particulate (8k+)

He has many names, and some are mouthfuls of blood.

[Or; a chronology of Sizhui, in which he does not forget.]

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (19k+)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

when he comes home to you by kika988 (2k+)

Home is Cloud Recesses now, and that's a thing Wei Wuxian is still getting used to. He still feels like a guest here, most days, though Lan Wangji has done everything to make him feel at home. He stands out like a sore thumb amongst the serene disciples and flowing white fabric.

Cloud Recesses has been home to Lan Wangji and Sizhui for years. It is their home, where they've built their family.

The thought warms Wei Wuxian even as it sits a little ill with him. He's an intruder here, in their homes, in their lives, the same way he had been in Lotus Pier.

five times people didn’t know sizhui is lan zhan’s son and one time they did by trilliastra (3k+)

“A-Yuan.” He repeats, reaching out for the boy, growing restless when he can’t touch him. “A-Yuan.”

Oh. Lan Xichen closes his eyes as the tears start to fall. Oh, Wangji.

Carefully, Lan Xichen takes the boy and lays him next to his brother on the bed, Wangji holds him protectively against his chest and A-Yuan stops his little cries immediately.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen tries again, running a hand through his brother’s hair softly, “who is he?”

“He’s my son.”

5 times the lan head disciple broke the rules by liji (6k+)

“I am not aware of any rule forbidding falling in love,” Hanguang-Jun said at last. There was a quiet sadness in his eye, like he was watching a scene from far away. The novelty of it gave Sizhui the courage to ask his next question.

“Have you ever been in love, Father?” he asked.

(or, five times that Sizhui broke the Lan sect's rules growing up)

the seasons change (but i love you the same) by kdkdkd (7k+)

"Hanguang-jun!"

When did you stop calling me Bàba, A-Yuan?

Lan Wangji had always promised himself that he would never become a poor father like his own had been.

Unfortunately, it feels like he has failed to keep that promise.

✨ bonus round ✨ uncle jiang cheng and nephew lan sizhui

tintinnabulum by respira (8k+)

A small bell chimes, the sound soft and pleasant like the water crashing against a pier, like low whistles in an empty cave, like a guqin playing a lullaby.

[watchmegetobsessed]

An Ocean Away - Harry Styles

Sequel to Tastes Like Strawberries 🍓 !

a/n: ahhh! thank you so much for the love you showed TLS! i already had more planned for the story, but all your comments motivated me to do this part 2! it’s an emotional one so brace yourselves! further in the chapter i placed the song that inspired the title and i listened to it while writing so i suggest you do the same!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 12.7k

masterlist

You walk down the familiar hallway texting back Eden that you are not spending the night at home again.

Eden: You really need to tell me about the dick that keeps you so busy these days.

Y/N: I never said a thing about any dick.

Eden: Oh please, you surely got yourself a rebound after Harry, you can’t tell me otherwise.

Y/N: Don’t you get a rebound when you broke up with someone? I was never together with Harry, so it doesn’t make sense.

Eden: You had a thing!! Okay, whatever. Keep your little secrets, I guess it’s fine…

Y/N: Love you!

Chuckling to yourself you put the phone away and stop at the door you know all too well, knocking two times before you open it and poke your head inside.

Harry is sitting at his desk, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he is vigorously scribbling something down into his notebook. He lifts his head at your arrival and you shut the door closed behind you.

“Hello, professor,” you smile at him teasingly, walking around his desk as he pushes himself back a little so you can sit on his lap, pecking his lips gently.

“Hey, done for the day?” he asks, his fingers tenderly stroking your thighs over the fabric of your jeans.

“Yeah. We can leave if you’re done,” you nod.

“Just a few more minutes, alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, standing up from his lap so he can finish his work while you sit on the little loveseat he has in the corner, right under the window.

It’s been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, the new semester has officially started, you’re working your way towards your degree as this is officially your last semester, but what’s more important that you and Harry have been a couple for six weeks following the heated actions of New Year’s Eve.

Harry is still quite anxious about the whole thing, always on high alert and he even asked you to lie to Eden and Nat too. You tried to fight him on that, but you could tell how much he wanted to protect what you had so you decided to feed them this elaborate story about how you and Harry had a fight on New Year’s Eve and realized that it would have never worked out so you agreed to stay just friends. It seems like they believed, because they��ve been keen on trying to set you up with someone while you just keep dodging their attempts, sneaking around with Harry behind their back.

Other than the continuous lying and sneaking around, things have been going well with him. You’ve been spending a lot of time at his place, the only hiding spot where you can be carefree around each other without always watching out for others around you.

Today is Valentine’s day and though your opportunities to celebrate are very slim, having anything that’s slightly public crossed out of the list, that still doesn’t stop the two of you from having a good night in.

You watch him curiously as he is reading the lines of someone’s essay probably, or some test, whatever. Holding the pen ready to use whenever he finds something incorrect, he furrows his eyebrows at something before crossing out a line, mouthing the words he writes to the side of the page. He doesn’t wear his glasses that often, but he’s been complaining about having dry eyes these past days so it’s no surprised he switched to them from his contact lenses.

“You look sexy in your glasses, have I told you that?”

He glances at you, a small smirk tugging on his lips before he returns to the paper in front of him.

“Think they make me look older,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Nah, not more at least than your grandpa sweaters,” you tease him, earning a ‘Really? This again?’ look from him that makes you chuckle.

You busy yourself while Harry finishes his work and then you head out together, strictly keeping the distance between each other. Walking out of the building Harry heads to the left where the car park is while you take a turn to the right. It’s been your usual, since you can’t have anyone see you get into Harry’s car so casually, so you usually walk down to the small café near Building D, because there’s a very narrow little street running behind it where you can get into the car without anyone noticing you. You do the same now too before finally heading back to Harry’s place. Sinking into the comfortable seat, you stare out the window, thinking about how it’s just been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, but it feels like you’ve been together with Harry for months. Despite his many doubts and hesitant act, it was easy to fall into a kind of routine with him, and even more easier to get used to the thought that he is yours and you are his.

During these six weeks you’ve learned quite a few things about him, things women on campus would die to know and they were handed over to you on a silver plate by Harry himself.

One, he is a very touchy person, of course, when he has the chance for it. In the safety of his home or when you have a few minutes for yourselves in his office, he always likes to have his hand on your back or waist, he loves touching your hips or cheeks, caressing the skin wherever it shows from under your clothes. He is also very cuddly, likes to wrap you in his arms when you’re watching TV and when it’s time to sleep the first thing he does is to pull you into his embrace. You usually wake up in the morning with him completely wrapped around you, limbs thrown over you, face buried into your chest or stomach. He is a messy sleeper, but also a fucking adorable one.

Two, he is a good cook but not that good at baking. He says it’s the universe’s sign that he shouldn’t eat as much sweet stuff as he does, but in reality he just sucks at measuring the ingredients. He never follows the recipe, easily goes with things his own way and then he is surprised when it doesn’t turn out as it should.

Three, he notices the smallest things you’d never. Like how you hate it when the Sun is shining right into your face so he always makes sure to draw the blinds in the evening, or that you prefer sleeping with more pillows so he just simply gives you an extra without even asking every time you’re spending the night. He cares so much about you to the smallest details, it always makes your heart flutter.

And four, though he keeps a tough act in school, he is a lovesick puppy when no one is around, likes to be the small spoon when cuddling, absolutely adores it when you cup his face in your palms and kiss it all over. Loves it when you play with his hair or when you hug him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. He always tells you how pretty you are and never misses a chance to sneak a kiss from you. You couldn’t imagine him do any of these before you really knew him, but now you see that all these little things are just as much parts of him like the version of him he shows at school. You feel lucky to be able to see him like this and you’ll probably never get bored of it.

Arriving to his place you drop your bag off at the bedroom before you join him in the kitchen, already eyeing the flyer to the nearby Italian place that delivers.

“How about pizza?” he hums, eyebrows knitted together as he scans the menu.

“Sounds good. Can we order dessert too?” Walking past him you kiss his shoulder before grabbing a glass for yourself, filling it with tap water.

“Oh, no need,” he shyly answers, glancing at you. “We… have dessert.”

You watch him with curious eyes as he disappears in his little study before emerging with a plate filled with pink cupcakes. They look wobbly, the cream on top is not the same on either of them, but because you know he made them, they are the most perfect you’ve ever seen.

He places the plate to the counter with a shy smile before turning to you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, hands finding your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“Oh baby, did you stay up last night to make these?” you ask, touched that he took the time and energy to surprise you with something. Harry nods and you kiss his dimples softly.

“Mm, they are strawberry flavored,” he smirks boyishly.

“We are never escaping strawberries,” you chuckle softly as you dip your fingertip into the cream on top of one of the cakes, tasting it. “Hmm, this is actually good,” you tell him.

“Yeah, the cream is kind of okay, dunno about the rest though,” he admits chuckling.

“As long as it’s not poisonous, I’ll love it,” you giggle kissing his lips again softly. “Alright, but I can’t go over the fact that we agreed on no gifts for Valentine’s Day,” you say giving him a look.

“S’not a gift, just… a little gesture,” he shrugs innocently.

“Okay, then you can’t get mad over my little gesture,” you smirk at him, peeling his arms off you before you run into his bedroom to get his gift.

You really weren’t planning to give him anything, but you had a good idea last minute and couldn’t just not do it. Digging into your bag you pull out the little box and join him in the kitchen again, handing it to him.

“It’s not fair if you spent money on it,” he pouts, but you just roll your eyes.

“You spent money on the cupcakes too. But besides, I didn’t spent a penny on it. Open it!” You urge him.

Harry huffs but takes the lid off, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos. In this not too ideal situation the two of you are living in, there’s no chance you can ever post anything about him, even though there are quite a few cute photos of you with Harry. Eden recently bought a Polaroid printer and you borrowed it to print your favorite pictures of the two of you. There’s one from the morning after New Year’s Eve, just a silly selfie you took in bed, then one with the band from Harry’s birthday recently, a photo of the two of you backstage of one of his gigs you took in the mirror, he has his guitar in his hands as you stand next to him smiling widely. There are a few more with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte and Adam and at the very end of the stack… some special ones.

You watch him go through them smiling warmly until he reaches the last few and freezes. You took the courage to take a few spicy ones of yourself in your favorite lingerie and thought it would be sexy to print them out as well and give them to him.

“I hope you’re not thinking about selling them already,” you chuckle. Harry glances up at you before shaking his head with a playful smirk.

“Was just a little surprised by them,” he admits.

“Do you… like them?”

“Oh baby, I love them, you look… wow,” he breathes out going over the pictures one more time. “But I’m gonna have to lock these away so no one finds them. Adam likes to go over my stuff when he is over, I definitely don’t want him to find them.”

“You better keep them safe because if anyone sees them I’m burying myself,” you snort.

Harry puts the stack of photos back into the box before leaning down he cups your face and kisses you gently.

“Thank you, love the pictures. All of them,” he adds cheekily and you feel yourself blushing.

He leans in to kiss you again, putting the box aside to the counter and this time it’s not just one short kiss, he carries it on, taking his time with your lips, savoring and tasting you without a worry in the world. It grows more and more passionate, tongues clashing and you tug at his hair, lacing your fingers through his locks, a moan escaping his pink lips.

You start inching backwards until your backside meets the edge of the counter. Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull your sweater off of you, throwing it behind before his lips are pressed against yours again. It doesn’t take long for his shirt and pants and your jeans to end up on the floor somewhere behind him, leaving you both in just your underwear. You kiss down his neck and collarbones, your lips gliding across his tattooed chest as you slowly slide down to your knees, hands moving over his growing bulge.

Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, you tug them down and pull his erection out, already so hard for you and you barely even touched him.

“What does my Valentine deserve for making me cupcakes?” you hum, teasingly pumping him a few times with your hands. Harry whimpers under your touch, but doesn’t answer so you stop your hands and look up at him. “Talk to me, what do you want?”

“Your mouth,” he breathes out, his eyes meeting yours, filled with lust and hunger only for you. Smirking to yourself you lick his length up before gently kissing the head, swirling your tongue around the tip before you slowly take him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby!” he pants when you start bobbing your head, pumping the base in sync with your head’s movements.

His hand comes to the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair. He doesn’t force you, he never does, just likes to hold onto you. You try to take him deeper and deeper with each movement until you fit his whole cock into your mouth, keeping it there for a few seconds before pulling away and letting him go.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, helping you up from the floor, kissing your lips hard as he is already pulling your panties down your legs. “How do you want it?”

“From behind,” you tell without hesitation, turning around so you can lean onto the counter and push your ass up for him.

You feel one of his hands stroke down your spine while the other one reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, drawing gentle circles on it at first before he goes a little harder, making you moan his name.

“Harry, please!” you beg, the need to feel him growing with each passing second.

He pulls his hand back, grabbing his hard cock as he lines himself up with you, one hand on his shaft, the other one holding your hip firmly to keep you in place. First he pushes just the tip inside and when he is sure you’re ready to take more, he slides all of him inside, filling you up perfectly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. Always so good,” he breathes out, both his hands coming to grip your waist as his hips meet your ass from behind.

He starts moving, going a little soft at the beginning before he gets rougher, his hips smacking against your ass with each thrust. You arch your back and push your ass up so you’re angled just perfectly for him, he runs a hand up your back, sliding it under the clasp of your bra and he leaves it there while fucking you from behind oh so well.

“Harry, oh my God!” you groan when he starts hitting that one spot that makes you go crazy.

“Feeling good, baby?”

“Fuck! So good!” you gasp, feeling the pleasure building up with each thrust. “Go harder!” you beg and once he has both hands on your hips again he does as you asked, railing into you hard, making you keep gasping for air.

“Getting close? Tell me when you’re about to cum, baby.”

“I’m close, please don’t stop!” you pant, hands holding onto the counter’s edge for dear life.

He reaches around you, a hand coming between your legs as his fingers find your clit again, adding to the sensation as he starts playing with it just the way you like it.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum! Harry!” you moan uncontrollably and he growls deeply from his chest.

“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me,” he breathes out sharply and he just keeps railing you hard, fingers working on your clit until he feels your walls clench around his dick. “Oh fuck, yes, baby! Cum on my cock!” he gasps and at the same time as you go through your orgasm, you feel him twitch inside you, coming hard with you at the same time. “Jesus fuck! I love you, Y/N!”

You gasp at his words, eyes snapping open in the middle of your orgasm and all air pushes out of your lungs for a moment.

He whimpers and moans, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes to a halt, both of you panting like crazy, coming off your high. When he slowly slides his softening cock out of you, you turn around and look into his eyes. For a moment you thought he just said it in the heat of the moment and he didn’t even realize it, but when your eyes meet his, you can tell he is a little afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“Did you mean that?” you quietly ask as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, pulling them up, but you don’t bother to put your underwear back on, standing there in only your bra.

“I-I did. I didn’t mean to say it now, but I did mean it,” he nods. “Is it… too soon?”

“No,” you smile at him, stepping closer so you can cup his face in your palms, kissing his lips softly. “I love you too.”

“You do?” he asks, surprised at your reaction.

“Of course, silly. I wouldn’t give my nudes to someone I don’t,” you joke making him chuckle, his arms coming to curl around your waist.

“Sorry, this wasn’t too… romantic,” he breathes out and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You said you love me while fucking me on Valentine’s Day after exchanging cute gifts. I think it’s romantic,” you chuckle, finally making him smile. “Besides, I don’t care about the setting, just feels nice to hear you say it.”

“Yeah?” “Mhm, care to say it again so I can see your eyes as well?”

“I love you,” he softly murmurs, his forehead resting against yours.

“Yeah, feels better when I can actually look at you,” you chuckle kissing him softly. “I love you too.”

It’s definitely not just fun and games, being in a secret relationship that no one can know about. It surely adds a lot of tension into the situation, having to be so careful all the time and be reserved to the point where you can’t even be seen too often together.

As the semester carries on you always keep your ears open if there’s anything going on about you and Harry. Though you only limit your time together on campus to the bare minimum, only talking on rare occasions, you still want to make sure no one is getting the wrong (or right) idea about what is going on between the two of you.

The worst part is probably having to lie to Eden and Nat all the time. You spend about three nights at Harry’s every week and you have to lie every time you leave. After a while you tell them that you’re dating this new guy but he wants to keep it low-key because he recently broke up with his previous girlfriend. That gives them enough peace not to nag you all the time but you can tell they really want to meet this new man in your life.

You’ve tried to discuss it with Harry, tell him that they won’t tell anyone but it ended in a fight and you kind of gave up. Harry is way too keen on keeping it a secret and it’s clear he is not gonna make any exceptions. At least it’s the same with his friends, the two of you act like just friends when you’re out with the band though you have a suspicion that Sarah can see through the act. However she chooses not to talk about it so it’s kept hidden.

You don’t fight much with Harry, but when you do, it’s major. You both can get really into the argument and it easily gets way too heated, turning into a screaming match until you both realize you should just talk it out and have a little more understanding for each other. The makeup sex after a fight however… that’s something that makes up for every nasty thing that’s said in the heat of the moment.

Nearing the end of the semester you both start to grow more stressed, you about finishing your last classes, your thesis and studying for your finals, Harry about the growing pile of essays and tests waiting to be graded. A lot of the time when you’re at his place you both are busy with your own stuff and only have the chance to actually be with each other when you go to bed. It takes a toll on the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. Despite the unfortunate nature of how you are forced to maintain your relationship, it’s the healthiest one you’ve ever head and you definitely won’t give up on it too easily.

Though you, Nat and Eden turn in your thesis works mid-April, the semester is still not done for the three of you, the final exams are threateningly close at this point. Spring has officially kicked in, the weather is mostly clear and sunny, allows you to stay outside again and you take advantage of it.

One particular afternoon the three of you are lounging under the pergola, all three of you buried in a book or your notes when you spot Harry walking towards the building. You keep your eyes on him as he slowly approaches you, his gaze meets yours and he smiles at you shortly. It’s all you can get out in the public, but it’s more than nothing.

“Isn’t it hard to see him?” Eden asks and glancing her way you see that she is looking at Harry who is now busy with his phone.

“Why would it be?”

“I don’t know, you clearly had a thing for him and it wasn’t even just a one-sided flirting like every other women had with him. I couldn’t be around him if it happened to me.”

“It’s not like anything major happened. It was all bad timing and the situation wasn’t good. It’s better this way,” you tell her, trying to sound convincing while the guilt is eating you on the inside. All these lies are clouding over your head and you have a feeling they will come down on you pouring one day.

“Still crazy that you are friends with his friends though,” Nat chimes in, squinting her eyes in the sunshine.

“Yeah, you are literally the only person on campus who gets to see him in his private life,” Eden nods. If only they knew how much you see him privately!

“It’s not that crazy,” you shrug, turning back to your book.

You all get back to work, forgetting about Harry, or at least Nat and Eden does, because you get a text from him shortly after he disappeared in the building.

Harry: You look very pretty today :)

Y/N: Flirting with me on campus, professor?

Harry: Can’t help it.

Y/N: You look handsome too, it’s a shame I can’t kiss you stupid!

Harry: Patience!

 “Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” Nat grabs your attention from the phone and you realize she was talking to you.

“What? Uh, sorry.”

“I said that we should go out this weekend. It’s been ages since we last did anything other than studying.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Don’t come with your usual, rambling about how we shouldn’t have any fun before we finish,” Eden rolls her eyes.

“That’s not what I say. I just think that we have priorities.”

“I don’t know about you, but it’s a priority for me to have fun, so I’m down for a night out.

“I think I’m passing,” you mumble. You already made plans for the weekend with Harry, take a hike up the hills since the weather has been nice and it would be great to spend time together outside the house. The hiking routes are far away enough from town that uni students don’t like to take the hustle to drive all the way out so you’ll be fine being together outside.

“If you want to say that you have something planned with your mystery man, don’t even bother. If it’s not his birthday, we are overruling him,” Eden scoffs and you roll your eyes at her.

“Just go without me.”

“That’s not the same!” Nat whines. “Come on, Y/N. For once choose us!”

“That’s rude I choose you guys a lot of times!”

“Not since you’ve been spending half your life with some man and the other half in the library.”

“Yeah, we feel abandoned!” Nat pouts at you, trying to make you feel bad and in all honesty, she is succeeding.

“We can doll ourselves up, have fancy cocktails and all that, it’s gonna be fun! Come on, just one night! I can’t take another Saturday sitting in my room, reading my notes,” Eden growls and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I guess I’m in,” you mumble and your friends start cheering as if you just declared that men and women are going to get paid equally from now on.

You can tell Harry is bummed that you have to cancel your weekend plans, but he is also trying to be understanding.

“I couldn’t bring up a relevant argument so they made me say yes,” you growl when later that day you’re cuddling on his couch after dinner.

“S’fine,” he sighs, leaning down he pecks your lips shortly.

“Wish I could just tell them that I had plans with you,” you breathe out.

“Y/N…” “I know!” you roll your eyes. “It’s just that it would be nice if I could at least tell them the truth.”

“We already talked about this,” he sighs.

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me,” you point out. “Am I not allowed to feel that way?”

“You are, I just don’t get why you keep bringing it up when there’s literally nothing I can do about it,” he retorts.

“Well there is, you just choose not to.” And with that, you officially pick another fight with him.

It’s not that you enjoy fighting with him, not at all, but the situation is so not ideal and you find his overprotectiveness a little too much at times. You don’t understand why you can’t share it with your two closest friends. You could at least tell Sarah or the other guys, have anyone know about the two of you, but literally no one on Earth knows that you are a couple and it’s bugging you way more than it probably should.

“Why are you so damn keen on making others know about us? What does that have to do with anything?” he growls throwing his hands into the air, standing in the opposite end of the room as you keep pacing the floor, the urge to keep on moving taking over you.

“Because—“ you snap, but stop yourself. You know if you say it out loud, he’ll think you’re stupid.

“Because what?!”

“Because i-it makes me feel like we are not even real! I can’t talk about us, I can’t touch you outside of this house, no one knows we are a thing and it’s so fucking nerve-wrecking, Harry!” you break down, feeling your throat closing up. You didn’t mean to get emotional over this, but you’ve been bottling it up for a while now.

Harry’s shoulder fall forward as he sees the change in you, the heat of the fight long forgotten. He crosses the room, hands reaching up to cup your face in his palms, his thumbs running across the soft skin under your eyes as he wipes the tears away.

“Baby, I know. You think I don’t want to show you off? I want to hold your hand and just take a walk with you, kiss you whenever I want to, show all the horny fratboys on campus that you’re taken. I know it’s hard, but we really don’t have a choice until the end of the semester.”

He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you to his chest, your arms circle around his waist as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stop your sobs.

“I’m sorry. I really wish it was all different,” he murmurs, kissing into your hair softly.

“No, I’m sorry for bitching about this all the time. I knew what we were getting into,” you exhale sharply. “It just… really sucks.”

“It does. But we just have to be patient.”

You manage to put the fight behind and move on in peace, but a tiny thought remains buzzing in the very back of your mind. What happens when you finish school? Will it all be different? Harry will still be a professor and if people see you around together, they will know you were one of his students. What’s gonna be the difference? If he is so on edge now, something is telling you he won’t be changing dramatically and it concerns you. A lot.

Not willingly, but you go out with Nat and Eden on Saturday. You go to a place that’s quite popular between students, you can most likely always find familiar faces from lecture halls and classes. It’s close to campus and more on the cheap side, the perfect spot for uni students for a night of fun.

As expected, you run into some people from school and they invite the three of you to sit with them at their table which comes in handy, because there’s no empty place by the time you arrive.

One drink follows the other and you easily get tipsy especially because you skipped on dinner before heading out. Though you weren’t in the mood for tonight, you find yourself enjoying the conversation and the company. It really has been long since the last time you went out with the girls and it’s nice to spend some time with them without the books and notes.

A debate starts about whose course one of the boys, Jace should take next semester.

“Professor Peltz is fucking boring, dude,” Nat growls, taking a sip from her drink. “Had him last semester, I could barely stay awake during his lectures.”

“Yeah, but they say he gives good grades easily,” Jace argues.

“Okay, but who else can you choose from again?” Lydia, a girl who lived a few doors down from you when you lived in a dormitory your first year.

“Um, Professor Makley and Professor Styles.”

You freeze at the mention of Harry, especially upon hearing Lydia’s reaction.

“Jace, choose Professor Styles! He is so fucking hot!”

“Not that it matters to me, Lyd,” Jace chuckles.

“Oh come on, I know even guys think he is hot.”

You feel like an intruder in the conversation, keeping quiet as you listen to her rave about how hot she finds Harry. It’s like you are eavesdropping on something that wasn’t meant for your ears, but it’s just the guilt bubbling inside you once again, because you know you won’t be able to say a word without having to lie.

“She has a point,” another guy, Garrett chimes into the conversation. “The man is handsome and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”

“See?” Lydia chuckles. “He is sexy and smart, the whole package. I’ve been daydreaming about him since first year.”

You catch Eden’s look, but you just busy yourself with gulping from your vodka cranberry, feeling uncomfortable in the situation but not even for the reason she thinks. Eden must think it’s weird because you had an actual thing with Harry, but the truth is… that thing is still very much ongoing.

“I would let that man do whatever he wants with me,” Lydia adds sighing longingly, and you are having a hard time to hold your tongue. Unfortunately, you don’t succeed.

“Not sure he wants anything to do with you,” you mumble into your drink and though you hoped your comment would stay unnoticed, but you are out of luck.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Lydia slyly replies, a bit too full of herself for your liking. Yes, she is pretty and definitely doesn’t have problem with guys, but she is a little too confident about Harry if you’re being honest.

“I’m sorry?” you ask with a soft, bit annoyed chuckle.

“I’m just saying that we’ll never know who he finds attractive, because we all know he keeps himself so far from his students.”

“Yeah, maybe because he is not interested in any of his students,” you point out.

“As if he would ever make a move on any of us,” she snorts and you are losing your temper. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, because now you really can’t hold your tongue.

“You can never know, Lydia. You can’t know if he acts the way he does because he is just trying to be professional or because he is, and consider this, not interested in you. Maybe he would actually act up on his feelings but you’re just not his type.”

Your comment is more like just a harsh comeback to Lydia’s words, but Nat and Eden kind of catch on that something is up with you. Ignoring their questioning looks you chug down your drink and soon excuse yourself to get some fresh air. No surprise that they follow you like puppies.

“Girl, what was that inside?” Nat asks as the three of you stand near the entrance of the bar, a few smoking guests littering the area.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, clearly avoiding to look at any of them, wrapping your arms around your upper body as if you were trying to keep your shit together physically.

“You snapped at Lydia for saying Professor Styles might have a thing for her,” Eden points out, but you just bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Because it was bullshit.”

“Why does that matter to you? Not that you’re together with him or something,” Nat argues and you roll your lips into your mouth, trying to keep a straight face but they know you way better than that. They gasp at the same time, Eden grabbing your forearm forcefully that makes you scowl.

“Hey! That hurts!” you whine, but she couldn’t care less.

“Are you fucking around with Professor Styles?” Nat whisper yells at you, eyes wider than ever.

“I mean… we’re not fucking around,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes as you kick the dirt around. “We’re kinda serious.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Eden snaps, drawing some attention at her and you let out an awkward chuckle at the glances the three of you get. “Are you fucking joking right now?”

“No, I am… not,” you admit, feeling a little relieved that you finally said it, but you also feel like you let Harry down with it.

“How long?” Nat questions in shock.

“Since New Year’s Eve. So… almost four months.”

“So he is the one you’ve been seeing all this time? The guy you didn’t want to talk about?”

“Um, yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about him, we just agreed that it’s safer if no one knows.”

“I’m speechless, Y/N,” Eden shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you kept it from us for this long!”

“I know, I felt so shitty, but it’s such a complicated situation, it’s so risky, we don’t want it to ruin us.”

“Obviously,” Nat nods understandingly. “And now I see why you snapped so harshly at Lydia.”

“I just couldn’t stand her talking like that. You guys have no idea how hard it is to keep every fucking thought to myself.”

“Why do I have a feeling it has a little more to it than to just Lydia drooling over Harry?” Nat arches an eyebrow at you, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, you’ve been oddly tensed lately,” Eden agrees.

“It’s just pretty stressful to have a secret relationship, it causes a lot of tension. And I’ve been… I’m not sure anything is going to change after I graduate, if I’m being honest.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asks.

“I just…” you sigh, all your thoughts you kept to yourself flooding back to you at once, overwhelming you in a situation that’s already a bit too much to handle. “We keep saying that it’s gonna change when I graduate, but I don’t see it. He is so overprotective and even if I graduate, people will find out that I was once his student. And it might not be against the rules anymore, but we’ll be judged. I didn’t think it through before, but it’s now starting to be more and more clear for me and I just… don’t know if we can make it work.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes, you’ve been keeping this to yourself for way too long now and saying it out loud just broke the dam. When Nat and Eden sees your lips trembling and the watery eyes you’re trying to blink away, they don’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug.

“Aw, don’t cry! It makes me want to cry too!” Nat chuckles softly as they sandwich you between them.

“It just sucks so much, because I love him, but I feel like we met at the wrong time and place,” you sob, letting them crush you.

“It happens, baby. It happens. You’ll figure it out!” Eden kisses your forehead before they let go of you. “Want to go home?”

“It’s still early, don’t want to kill the party. I think I’ll just… head over to Harry’s for now. Is that okay?”

“Of course, do whatever makes you feel better,” Nat assures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I was such a party pooper.”

You call yourself an Uber and text Harry that you are going over. Twenty minutes later you are walking up the stairs to his house and he opens the front door before you could even reach for the doorknob.

“Hey, baby,” he breathes out softly and you don’t say a word, just wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Hey, what happened? Didn’t have a good time with your friends?” He delicately caresses your hair, walking the two of you inside so he can close the door before wrapping both his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” you mumble and it’s the truth. You’re tired of these thoughts though you know you should talk to him about how you’ve been feeling about the two of you lately. Part of you is hoping something will just magically solve the whole situation and you won’t have to deal with it yourself.

Harry makes you a tea while you take a shower and once you are both in bed, you cuddle to his side while he reads some. You are just genuinely enjoying his closeness, because despite everything that’s been haunting you in connection with Harry, you really love this man. Like no one else before and the possibility of the two of you not making it long term scares you more than it probably should.

The next few weeks come and go in a sense of numbness. Following your emotional breakdown in front of the bar, you kind of push the whole thing to the back of your mind once again, putting all your focus on finishing school. Neither you nor Harry has the energy to put up more fights though you both can feel there’s a lot to talk about, but the end of the semester is just keeping you both way too busy to acknowledge the problems waiting on the corner.

At least there’s one less weight on your shoulders now that Nat and Eden know about you and Harry. You made them swear to their life they won’t tell anyone and you trust them to keep this heavy secret. They’ve been very supportive of the two of you, interrogated you one evening about everything that happened so far, they wanted to make sure Harry treats you the right way. No surprise, he does.

A few weeks before your state exam Harry extends his contract with the school to have him as a professor for another academic year so he is able to keep his visa as well.

You spend your last two weeks buried in your notes before your state exam and Harry gives you all the time and space you need, knowing well how much it means to you to earn the best grade possible.

When you are finally over your exam, you are celebrating at his place. He has bought a little cake and some champagne and you can’t wait to finally spend some time with him without having to worry about your studies.

“I’m proud of you, baby,” he smiles at you, clinking his glass against yours.

“Thank you, feels nice to be finally free,” you chuckle before taking a sip from the champagne.

“My smart girl, knew you’d kill all your exams.” He kisses your lips shortly before squeezing your hand. “How about I run a bath for us, we eat the cake in the tub and then we can watch a movie?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you smile at him before he disappears in the bathroom to get everything ready.

Finishing your champagne you wash the glass quickly and you’re about to cut the cake when your phone buzzes signaling that you’ve just gotten an email. As pull down the notification bar your lips part reading the first few lines. You open the whole thing and read through it eagerly.

It’s a job offer, but not just some lame one that also sounds sketchy at the same time. This one is from one of the biggest investigation offices in London and they are offering you a trainee position as a forensic document examiner with a possible secured spot on their team after one year. The money sounds amazing, the position is perfect, just what you’ve been dreaming of once you are done with school and they are looking forward to hear back from you about a possible interview in the near future.

“Alright, bath is coming together nicely, want to cut the ca—Wha’s up?” Harry questions upon returning from the bathroom, finding you staring at your phone’s screen with widened eyes.

“I, uhh—I just got a… a job offer,” you stutter, still rereading the lines, trying to find a sign that tells you it’s just a joke, but it seems completely genuine.

“What? Baby, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah,” you nod swallowing hard before you look up at him. “It’s in London.”

You watch his face fall from excited and happy to shocked and kind of panicky. You both know what that means, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. Harry just signed another year with the university that’s gonna tie him here for the next 12 months and if you accept the job you’ll be all the way across the world in the UK. Kind of ironic, him, the British guy stuck in the States while you, the American in the relationship, eager to go to the UK.

“That’s… wow. London.”

“Yeah, London,” you nod biting the inside of your cheeks.

“Are you… Are you gonna take it?”

“Well, they want an interview with me, but this is clearly a huge opportunity for me,” you say, not wanting to say the actual words. You feel like saying them would hit you harder than what you can take.

“It clearly is, it’s just that… You want to leave?” he breathes out, eyebrows knitting together.

“This is my only job offer and probably the best I’ll ever get.”

“So you do want to leave,” he forces and it’s pushing your limits.

“Career-wise, of course!” you finally say out loud, unwillingly.

“And what about everything else?”

“I clearly don’t want to leave everything else here, but I will never get a chance like this, Harry. This is the greatest push for someone like me, fresh out of school. I can have a secured spot in a year at a well-respected place. I’m not really in the position to reject offers like this.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure about what to do or say in the situation on his hand. You can tell he has a lot to say, but you’re not sure you want to hear all of them.

“Say something?” you softly plead and his eyes meet yours again, filled with concern.

“I just… It took me by surprise, I guess.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either.”

“No, not the job offer,” he shakes his head.

“Then what?”

“That you are ready to leave so easily. It’s like you never even wanted to discuss a version where you stay here, you just decided that you are leaving and that’s it.”

“Did you hear me? I cannot pass on this opportunity, Harry.”

“I did hear you,” he nods, pressing his lips together. “I heard that you didn’t even think about saying no.”

“Why would I say no?”

“Because I’m here, Y/N!” he snaps. “Good to know that I’m not a factor when it comes to decisions as big as leaving the country!”

“You are, Harry, but I need to think about my future career now. I’m not planning to work at an office for the rest of my life and if I pass on this job I might never get anything as good as this one,” you explain, but it seems like the two of you are having two different conversations.

“But why do I feel like it was never an option for you to stay?”

You give him a confused look. He really doesn’t see your point.

“Okay, why was only I supposed to change plans for us? You coming to London doesn’t feel like an option either, why are you trying to turn this against me?”

“I just extended my contract, you know that.”

“I do, and also, while we are at it, you didn’t ask me about that either. You didn’t even wait for me to figure out what I want to do after school, you just assumed that I would be here, but I never said that.” You can tell it hit him hard in the chest but somehow still, he thinks he is right when he isn’t.

“How could have I known you’d want to move across the globe?” he throws his hands up into the air.

“You’re saying this as if I didn’t just get the email and I’ve been plotting this the whole fucking time!”

“I’m just saying that it’s a huge fucking step and you decided so easily, it says a lot about the nature of our relationship.”

“Why are you saying that?!” you snap at him. “Why are you trying to make me the bad guy?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that it would have been nice if you at least pretended like it was up for debate. You know what it’ll do to us if you move to London.”

“Then come with me!”

“I can’t!” He raises his voice, clearly losing his temper. “I can’t break my contract and you know that too.”

“Well, I can’t afford to say no to the job either and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we could have made it work even if I stayed.” The words leave your mouth before you could think about them, and the cat is finally out of the bag. It seemingly shocked Harry and he is now staring at you with a blank expression, shoulders falling forward.

“What?” he breathes out and you can actually hear his heart breaking. You take a deep breath and rub your face with your palms, trying to collect your thoughts and not just blurt everything out.

“I’ve been thinking and… Even after I’m officially out of the school, people will know that I was your student if they see us together. And I know how important your reputation is for you so I would never put you through any of the shit we might get for us being together. People would judge, no matter what the situation is. I don’t… I just don’t think we can ever make it work here.”

He stays silent, just stares at you, taking in your words and once again, you wish you could read his mind. You almost start begging him to say something when he finally speaks up.

“So you think we don’t have a chance?”

“Not here… maybe not now. I feel like this has been the perfect example of wrong place, wrong time,” you quietly say, a pang of guilt in your tone, this is not how you planned on making this conversation. To be honest, you wished this never had to come, but you were out of luck.

Harry is awfully silent, it’s all over his face how broken he is and you feel the same. You have so much love for this man, yet fate decided you don’t get to share it with him the way you want.

Walking closer you cup his face in your palms, searching for his eyes until his green irises meet your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbones, the pads of your fingers gliding softly over the soft skin. His hands slowly find their way to your waist and he pulls you close to him as you kiss him tenderly, a silent confession about just how much you love him.

“I wanted this to work. I wanted this so badly,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he keeps you tight in his hold.

“I know. Me too,” you smile at him bitterly.

The rest of the evening passes by silently. You take a bath together, finish the cake anyway though even the sweetness can’t help the pain you both feel. Then you lie in bed for hours, just touching and feeling each other, making the best out of the time you have left. It’s unsaid, but you both know your days together are coming to a close end. Kisses and touches turn into some passionate love making, both of you desperate to feel as close to each other as possible and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

If you’re being honest, it’s all a blur following that night. You fix up an interview with London a few days later and they are not shying out of telling you straightforward that they want you there, the job is yours. You have one last short conversation with Harry about you leaving, but it’s more like just a confirmation that yes, it is going to happen and that leaves you with only a few weeks left together before you are packing up to leave the country.

You spend every possible free minute together until graduation where you finally get your degree. Your whole family comes and they cheer on you proudly, Harry standing in the crowd a little farther in the back, but still with a proud smile, a hint of gloominess in his beautiful green eyes. A week later you officially move out of your shared apartment with the girls, it’s a sobbing goodbye since all three of you are leaving in different directions following your graduation. You spend your last two weeks before your departure at home, spending as much time with your family as possible since you won’t be able to see them too often once you leave. Though your mom is dying to take you to the airport to say her final goodbye, you decided to give that time to Harry. He said he would drive to your hometown, pick you up and take you to the airport and you already know it’s gonna turn you into an emotional mess.

Leaving everything behind is hard, but having to say goodbye to Harry is the worst. It’s been a whole emotional rollercoaster for the both of you to get to this point and neither of you are ready to say goodbye, but this is what needs to happen.

That morning, you hug your parents, sister and brother tightly after you load Harry’s car with your two huge suitcases that have your whole life packed in them. You asked your family not to ask any questions about Harry and luckily, they kept quiet the whole time he was there, just treating him as a friend. You couldn’t take having to explain to them who he really is and how you met him, that’s gonna be another conversation for the future when you don’t feel like you’re about to start crying the moment you open your mouth.

The ride to the airport is silent, Harry holds your hand, your glued together palms lying on your lap the whole time. You haven’t even left but you already miss him so much.

Arriving he helps you bring all your stuff inside and patiently waits until you check your baggage in, leaving you with just your carry-on. Standing near the security check, the final moment finally comes and as soon as you look into his eyes you start bawling your eyes out.

“Oh baby, come ‘ere,” he breathes out, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I told you we would make everything right, but I couldn’t,” you sob into his chest as he holds you tight. You feel like if he let go of you, you’d just turn into a puddle at his feet.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he soothes you, his fingers threading through your hair.

“But it feels like it was,” you choke out. Harry leans back and takes your puffy cheeks between his warm palms, looking deep into your eyes.

“It wasn’t. As you said, it was just a matter of wrong time and place. But I think we brought the best out of it.”

“So… you don’t regret it?” you softly ask, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“Absolutely not,” he smiles at you kindly. “I loved every moment of it. And I love you.” You notice how he didn’t use past tense when he said he loves you and you can’t decide if it aches your heart more or fills you with joy. A little bit both of them.

“I love you too,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, savoring them one last time before you leave everything behind.

“Maybe we’ll meet again,” he smiles sweetly when he pulls back, tugging your hair behind your ear with a gentle move.

“I really hope,” you chuckle through your tears. “Take care, Harry,” you tell him, pecking his lips just once more.

“You too, baby,” he smiles, his hands falling to his sides as he lets go of you.

Turning around you walk into security and as you go with the line towards the gates, you glance back one last time. Harry is standing in the exact same spot, eyes glued to you as he watches you disappear from his sight.

It feels like the meeting is never coming to its end. You exchange a look with Jasmine, who seems just as tired and done with this two hours long discussion as you are. She grabs her phone from the table and you watch her something type out before she eyes at your device, signaling that she just texted you.

Jas: I need alcohol after this day. Want to have a drink with me after work?

Y/N: YES PLEASE!!!!!!!

You see her smile at her screen before both of you return to your boss at the front, talking about a possible upcoming case.

“And last but not least, I want to take a moment to bring light to the excellent work Y/N, our new full-time colleague did on the Santiago case. The police were highly satisfied with the fast and precise work you did. This was your first official case since you’ve decided to accept our offer to become a full member of our team and transferred from your position as a trainee. Congrats!” William, your boss nods in your way with a proud smile as a round of applause cheers for you from your colleagues.

“You go girl!” Jasmine mouths you from across the table and you just chuckle shaking your head.

The meeting finally wraps up and everyone goes on with their day. You are walking back to your office with Jasmine by your side. Your offices are next to each other and you started working here just three weeks apart. She is the same age as you and was approached the same way as well, it’s just that she moved all the way from Australia. The two of you have grown quite close, starting a new life at the same time in a foreign country, it easily brought you together.

“So are we leaving early for those drinks or what?” she asks poking your side.

“How early?”

“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes? Come on, it’s Friday, everyone leaves early!” You shake your head chuckling at her. She can be so restless sometimes, but it’s just the right amount that she can push you out of the comfort zone just enough.

“Alright.”

“Cool, I’ll come banging on your door,” she winks at you before disappearing for her usual coffee break.

It’s two in the afternoon, you still have a few hours ahead of you and some caffeine sounds perfect actually. Though the coffee at the office is excellent, you’ve grown to like this small place nearby, a family owned business that offers the best you’ve ever had.

You grab your bag from your office and head out for a quick coffee run. The walk to the café is freshening, the weather has been treating you well lately, the Sun is beaming and you can only hope you won’t wake up to pouring rain the next morning.

You think back to how lost you were feeling just a year ago, when all of this around you were so new and a little too much at once. One month into your time in London you even thought about quitting and moving back home. You felt alone and broken, yearning after everything you left behind. Your friends, family, loved ones, everything that was so far away from you.

It took you long weeks, even months to get used to your new life and now you can’t even imagine yourself anywhere else. It doesn’t miss you don’t miss terribly the life you had still, but now you have a lot to be happy about here as well.

Waiting at a crossroad, you find yourself twirling around the strawberry ring on your finger, your thumb fidgeting with it like every time you think about your home. You glance down at it and take a deep breath before the lamp turns green and you continue your walk to the café.

It’s not rush hours so there are only a few people lingering around the small place. You don’t have to think about what you are getting, James, the barista already knows your usual and starts making it right away as you swipe your card paying your drink.

You stand at the side, waiting for your coffee, staring out the window, watching people pass by on this lovely afternoon. Your gaze stops on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench, feeding a group of pigeons and you smile as a little girl runs through the birds, making them fly away instantly. The old lady just smiles at the girl, not holding a grudge that she just scared the birds away.

Your eyes move away, watching businessmen come and go, kids going home from school, wearing their school uniforms, everything just feels so… peaceful.

You are almost about to turn away from the window when your gaze falls on a tall figure near the Sainsbury’s across the road and your lips part as you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm you know all too well. You blink once, twice, three times, waiting for your eyes to make sure it’s the person you think it is.

Harry is standing right there, holding a little bag of groceries, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, oblivious to your shocked gaze on him. Your feet move before your brain could think it through, they take you out of the café and you stand in the middle of the sidewalk as you call out for him.

“Harry!”

His head snaps up at his name, eyes looking around, searching for the source before they finally find you, a shocked, but seemingly joyful expression plastering over his handsome face. He is quick to shove his phone into his pocket before he watches both ways and runs across the road to meet you on the other side. You can’t push your smile down as you watch him approach you, his tall, fit figure getting closer and closer until he is standing right in front of you, watching you in awe.

“Hey,” he breathes out, both of you a little unsure of what to do, how to greet each other.

It’s been months since you last talked. After your departure you kept in contact, you couldn’t just distance yourself from him so abruptly, but the thousands of miles between the two of you made it almost impossible to maintain a working connection, the time zones, all the work you both were buried under and just life itself made you drift away from each other.

But he is now standing in front of you and though he looks slightly different, he is still the Harry you know and love. He is your Harry.

“What… what are you doing here?” you ask, finally finding your voice.

“Did you forget I’m British?” you teases you and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, are you visiting family or something?”

“I uhh…” he glances down at his feet before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m actually back.”

“What do you mean?”

“My contract ended in July and I didn’t… I didn’t extend it. I came back a few weeks ago.”

Your lips part at the information. Harry is in London, he is now in the same city as you, for the first time in a whole year.

“Really? That’s… wow.” There’s too much you want to tell and ask him, yet you stand there, blinking at him, still lost in the feeling of seeing him for the first time again.

“I actually wanted to contact you when I got back, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that,” he admits with a nervous chuckle and your eyes soften over him.

“What do you mean? I would have loved it if you called.”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where you’re standing about me.”

“Well, seems like fate did it for you,” you smile at him warmly. “I would love to catch up. I have to head back to work now, but maybe later?”

“What about after work? When are you getting off?”

“I finish at 5.”

“I can meet you at your work if you text me the address.”

“That would be great,” you nod smiling. “My number is still the same, so you’ll know it’s me.”

“Great,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a boyish smirk. You are just now realizing how much you’ve missed him.

“I, um…” You’re trying to find the right words, still feeling overwhelmed about the sudden run-in, but at last you decide to go for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his waist, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping you in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. A shiver runs down your spine as the sense of home washes over you all at once, the warmth of Harry’s body making your heart flutter. Unfortunately, the moment must come to an end. His arms fall from around you, just like they did at the airport when you said goodbye to each other over a year ago.

“I’ll… see you later then,” he smiles as you are backing towards the entrance of the café.

“Yeah, later,” you nod and turning around you walk inside.

Arriving back to the office you drop by Jasmine’s office to tell her that you have to postpone your plans after work.

“What is more important than getting drunk with me?” she gasps dramatically.

“I ran into… I met Harry,” you tell her. You told her all about Harry one evening when you were out, just a few months into your stay. It was one of those days when you were feeling extremely homesick, or maybe you just missed him terribly.

“What? Your professor ex?” she asks with widened eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you are forgiven. Go and get the man back!”

“What?” you chuckle. “We just met after a year, how do you know I want him back? Maybe I just want to catch up with him,” you say, but it’s an obvious and blatant lie and you both know that. Jasmine gives you a look.

“Please, you are still so obviously in love with the man, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”

You don’t protest, just bite into your bottom lip. You really are in love with him, or the version you knew a year ago. He could be an entirely different person now so you can’t be sure if your feelings are the same about the man you met today.

“Have fun with him and then tell me all about it after, okay?” she beams and you just nod, leaving her to finish her work.

As time is slowly passing by you find yourself growing nervous about seeing Harry. That short little conversation on the street was not enough to calm your nerves. What is he like now? Is he the same? Does he have new hobbies? Is he as happy to see you as you are to see him? What will he think of you? What if he doesn’t like you after all this time?

You try to push the questions to the back of your mind, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much to the point where you chicken out of seeing him. When you’re on your way down following his text that he is waiting for you in front of the building, you are trying to keep yourself together and remind yourself that it’s just Harry, he might be a little different, but he is still kind of the same.

Luckily, the moment you spot him waiting a few feet away from the entrance, you forget about everything else, he is the only one to exist. He envelopes you in a hug when you arrive, smiling at you warmly.

“Hi, ready to go?” he kindly asks and you nod.

You settle for a nearby bar you’ve actually been to with Jasmine before. Harry insists on paying for the first round of drinks as the two of you settle in a secluded booth at the back. When he is standing at the bar you catch yourself watching him in awe. The situation is quite odd, could have never happened probably back home, the two of you casually out for a drink.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks upon returning, sitting across you.

“I was just thinking how this is the first time we are out, just the two of us.”

Harry smiles softly, probably appreciating it just the same.

The next couple of hours you both try to share anything and everything that has happened in the past year. He tells you about his last year as a professor and him not extending his contact. Coming back to London he has joined a research group for a marketing company, using his excellent knowledge to analyze human behavior in connection with different type of ads.

“It’s a lot different from being a college professor ain’t it?” you tease him and he nods chuckling.

“Guess I wanted some change. But it’s been nice, I enjoy doing a lot of research and experiments.”

Then you tell him about your time as a forensic document examiner, all the different cases you worked on and how it has been, living in London on your own. He listens to your tales about everything you’ve done with Jasmine, the concerts and karaoke bars you’ve been to and just generally your life overseas.

“Sounds like you’ve found your place, then,” he says smiling softly.

“I guess. Wasn’t an easy transition, but I’m feeling good now,” you nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my past,” you add.

His eyes wander down to your hands that are fidgeting with your almost empty glass. You see how they stop over the ring and he seems surprised as he reaches out, takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the little strawberries.

“You’re still wearing the ring,” he states.

“Of course,” you smile and when he is about to let go of your hand, you grab it and hold it, needing to feel his touch.

You wanted to run back home so many times because you were missing him too badly, missed his voice, his eyes, his touch, everything and now, out of nowhere, he is here with you again, far away from the place where it all started and had to end for a while, still making you feel like home, no matter where you are.

At one point, you move to sit beside him in the booth. You just keep sharing and sharing even things you’ve talked about on the phone before. You’re just soaking each other in. His arm soon moves around your shoulders and you gladly lean into his side, placing a hand to his thigh, sparkles running through your body.

“I love this,” you hum to yourself upon finishing your last drink.

“Love what?”

“Being out with you without a worry. I always dreamt of this and it’s just… so natural. I wish we got to experience it before.”

“As you said, that was a wrong time and place. Wasn’t our fault.”

You lift your head, eyes meeting his curious green irises as he smiles down at you kindly. You’ve missed that smile, it still makes your heart skip a beat, just like at the beginning.

“And do you think it’s the right time and place now?” you prompt the question.

“It’s definitely… better,” he chuckles softly. “Unless you are seeing someone, because now would be the best time to tell me.”

“I’m not,” you shake your head smirking. “Tried to go on dates, but truth is… none of them were you. I gave up after a few terrible attempts.”

“I didn’t even try,” he shyly smiles. “I just… knew no one would make me as happy as you did. As you always do.”

Pushing yourself up a bit, you rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, his arm around your shoulder tightens and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you closer. Your palm slides up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his cheek. You place a soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, testing the waters out, seeing how he reacts though nothing that happened tonight tells you he wants to keep his distance.

He moves his face, nose nudging against you before his lips find yours in a kiss you’ve been longing for since you left him behind at the airport over a year ago. Your fingers lace through his hair, pulling him towards you as if he could escape from your hold any moment, but he is definitely here to stay. Your lips clash again and again, savoring each other, eagerly trying to make up for the time you lost since your departure. You melt into his arms, moving your legs across his lap as he pulls you to his lap in the booth, partially hidden from the rest of the bar, wrapped up in your little bubble. He tastes like home, his kisses feel like the first warm rays of sunshine after a long and cold winter, the only thing you couldn’t really get yourself over this whole year. Because you’ve become good at pushing your feelings down to the point where you could easily carry on, but he was always in the corner of your mind, making you wonder if you’ll ever meet again and if you do, will it be the same as before?

It’s not, because it’s better. The burdens and banters that tied you both down a year ago are now long gone, you have all the time and space in the world, nothing is restricting you. You can touch him and kiss him whenever and wherever you want. There’s no more sneaking around, no one here knows who you are and who Harry used to me to you. Here, you’re just another lovesick couple, so into each other it’s almost insane.

When he pulls back his forehead stays rested against yours as you both are trying to catch your breath. His hand runs up and down your thigh, the warmth of his palm melting your body under his soft touch.

“I love you,” he breathes out, eyes meeting yours.

“You still do?” you ask with a small smile, heart beating in your throat.

“I never stopped loving you,” he admits and you let out a shaky breath, pulling him down for a short kiss.

“Not even when I was an ocean away from you?”

“No,” he chuckles shaking his head. “If that’s possible, I loved you even more when you were away. I realized how much you mean to me and I could only hope you weren’t moving on without me.”

“I could never,” you smile at him softly. “I love you too much to do that.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you say that,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle and you kiss his lips shortly, assuring him that you feel the same way. “So… are we going to try again?”

“Do you want to?”

“There’s nothing I want more, baby,” he truthfully admits, his gaze softening at you as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to?”

“Of course,” you smile at him widely. “I think it’s settled.”

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

[lesbian-in-leather]

Okay so I'm fully aware that this film doesn't deserve the amount of thought that I'm putting into it but. The stepmother's song was heartbreaking like... I'm choosing to pretend my version of Vivian from my previous post is canon so the way the song was musically written as almost a villain song but not quite, combined with the way Idina acted it genuinely hurts and I've already rewatched it several times. And some of the lyrics in particular really stand out to me (so naturally I decide to dissect all of them)

I don't care, this is life

It's not fair, it's not right

Okay first of all we have the fact she she just believes this is how life has to be. She's a woman who has been completely destoryed, and she know it isn't right or fair but she genuinely thinks this is how it has to be, that this is the only was to live

All that hope and that pride

It's a waste, it's a lie

Anyone who thinks the concept of hope is a "waste" and a "lie" is clearly a victim of something like sorry this line hurts me

All you want is to breathe

Little girls should run free

But your corset's too tight

And your heels are too high

She clearly sees so much of herself in Ella and, I mean... look at this. These are the words of a woman who feels so trapped and has just given up and let herself be convinced that this is how the world has to be

The treasure you found? Bury it!

The only way out? Marry it!

That shadow of doubt? Carry it!

Carry it down to your grave, oh...

She feels like she has to hide anything that brings her joy, and that the only way to be safe is to marry. She doesn't even feel safe voicing her true feelings - and she isn't even wholly convinved by this system but she thinks that that means she's wrong. And that she has to carry that doubt to her grave, and just continue with the way things are done. And the really interesting thing is that, at this point in the song she leaves Ella's room. But she doesn't just walk out, no, she runs away with a face full of grief and regret for what she's forcing Ella into

The world doesn't need another dream girl

The world doesn't need another dream girl

She sings the first line alone, looking almost regretful. Like she's convincing herself that what she told Ella was right. And she repeats it into the mirror. She's tearing herself down, burying the doubt deep inside so she can save her daughters (all three of them, but especially Ella, the one who is the most like her) from the pain she felt

You're too dumb, you're too young

Full of heart, so naive

You're so blind, you're so green

You'll give up, just like me

After convincing herself that she's in the right she goes on with her tirade, berrating all of her daughters... by comparing them to herself

The wings are ornamental

They have no intention of letting you fly

First of all, this links back to the corset and the heels being a cage women are forced into, but also, she acknowledges that the temptation and illusion of freedom are right there. But women aren't allowed to try. Which is so obviously about how she was allowed to persue her dream by going to a music school, only to be torn down and insulted by her own husband for doing so. Her use of "they" shows that she isn't the one enforcing these rules - they are being imposed upon her just as much as the girls

Don't be sentimental

During this section, she's holding a butterfly. A green butterfly, so not Ella's magical godmother. Perhaps it would have been her own. But she waves it away after this line, getting rid of the oppurtunity for her life to be changed, because she's been given that chance before and it was a trap

Some legends are born in the wrong time

She knows she could have been great, but she also truely believes that women in this time aren't allowed to be. That neither she, nor Ella, nor any other woman can achieve anything but heartbreak and disappointment in the society that they live in, and that there's nothing to be done but wait. And it echoes so true for so many real women born throughout history and even into the modern day

This treasure you found? (Bury it)

The only way out? (Marry it)

That shadow of doubt? (Carry it)

Carry it down to your gravе

Her daughters join in, and she's clearly been teaching them this from a young age because, despite the sadness and almost fear they show, they don't fight her like Ella does. She truely believes she can never be great, and that she'll have to live with only the broken hope of who she could have been

(Bury it. Marry it. Carry it)

Proving further that this isn't a true villain song, other female character join in. The maids in the palace feel they must bury their individuality. The queen feels she had to marry the king and, in doing so, forfeited her right to an opinion. Gwen feels like she'll have to carry her ambitions to the grave, because she'll never be listened to or even taken seriously by the people with any power

Carry it down to your grave (Bury it)

Your grave (Marry it), your grave (Carry it)

(Bury it) bury it, (Marry it) marry it, (Carry it) carry it

More and more women join in, and Vivian just looks so sad. And the repitition of "grave" shows that she really thinks that this is her life, and that she'll die how she's lived - unfulfilled and ignored

(No, no, no, no ah!)

Bury it! (Bury it!)

Marry it! (Marry it!)

Carry it! (Carry it!)

Bury it! Bury it! Marry it! Marry it! Carry it! Carry it

Carry it down to your grave!

Your grave! Your grave!

This bit gives me chills every time because they all go absolutely feral. Every woman, even Vivian, is just kicking and tearing and screaming because it's so blindingly unfair and there's nothing they can do but they all have the same pent up rage, from the queen to the servants to the women in streets. And if reason won't work then they'll tear the whole goddamn world down. And internally that's what every woman there wants. But they all hold it in because, like Vivian, they've been punished and controlled and stepped on so many times that they've been convinced they're the problem, that everyone else is content with the system so why can't you be?

[Piano Instrumental]

And then finally. Finally Vivian is alone again. And her hair is dishevelled and she looks like she's trying not to cry and she plays the piano so beautifully and so loudly and so wildly that she's like an entirely different person. And then she almost does cry but she shakes her head and smiles a little and I have to applaud Idina's acting because it feels so real. There are no singers, and there's no other music. Just Vivian, and everything she could have been. All the parts of her she's been repressing, finally allowed to be seen for one honest and heartwrenching moment

And it reminds me so much of the final scene in the Ibsen play Hedda Gabler (which happens to be one of my favourites). Where the controlled character of Hedda just lets go and play the piano we've never seen her touch, and she plays wildly and loudly and it's so different to how we've ever seen her before. And her husband tells her to be quiet and she says she'll never make noise again - and then she commits suicide to ensure that she doesn't

The world doesn't need another dream girl

And then this. This line breaks my heart. Because she just sings to herself in the most broken voice, in a quiet, croaked whisper as if she's afraid someone might hear. And it shows how much she's hurting, how much she wishes the world could be different. This song was never directed at Ella. She only sung it to try and save her from the life that Vivian herself lived. Vivian is the dream girl, and that line is always, always directed internally. No one else ever sings it and it's never sung with anyone else on screen. It was always about her, and it was never a villain song

[fa-by]

hi F! Please do an analysis on Lauren’s new song While I’m Alive! She said on her instagram that it was directed to “someone” at first 👀👀

Hi to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 and for sure. No problem, in fact, I'm sorry for the delay 😅

So. While I'm Alive is part of the Femme it Forward's all-female album called Big Femme Energy, Vol. 1. Laur wrote it long before she was part of this project, and yes, she said she wrote it with a person in mind by turning a vent into art because tired of the way she was/is treated:

This person, in my opinion, is 100% a shark. And this also responds to another ask I've recently received:

Hey to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Yep, Laur wrote it for someone among the higher ups and therefore it concerns her career in particular, but she also applies it to other situations in her life in general.

Now let's move on to the interpretation.

Verse 1:

“Don't say I'm too loud when I cry out what I've held inside

I wanna know why they tried to take me and bury me alive”

The music industry is dominated by men. Gender inequality, sexism, and ageism reign supreme. No matter how much harder they have to work in order to succeed, women are anyway either sidelined, or supervised by men. Why? Because there’s a huge disparity between men and women, especially due to the way the public perceives their success and power. For example.

A man is praised for performing on stage with just the guitar. A woman who does the same, however, not only is she criticized for being too lazy and boring for not having made the performance more lively with a choreography, but she’s also criticized for what she was wearing. Same woman who gets criticized when she instead performs with a choreography because she wasn’t good enough. A woman who can’t be a drummer because it’s a thing for men, and if she persists in wanting to play, it’s not because it’s her passion and she’s pursuing her dream, no; it’s because she wants attention 🙄. A woman who can’t have a good idea about a song because, what can she understand about music, right? 😒

Unfortunately, it’s all a double standard. Women work harder than men and they then get questioned whether their success is deserved. One way or another, women are constantly being torn apart. Reason why Laur begins the verse by already letting us understand how put down she is by the sharks, followed by a question that actually doesn’t represent a real request for information, but that implies a predetermined answer.

“'Cause who am I to think that I have a right?

Or decide to know what I need, right?”

She's sarcastic of course. Since they've always told her what to do, how to act, and how to feel, here she's including a couple of examples among the thousand and more things they always have said and say to her. Because who better than her knows what's best for her? The answer is her. Especially when these orders, because they're orders, are imposed on her to make money with her career and not for her sake or because they care about her as a person.

“It's in the way, I talk and I walk away

From what you made me”

By ‘what you made me’, she refers to the way she was before. The person who was forced to accept everything she was told to do and therefore she couldn’t be herself. The person they made her become, and she didn’t like that person. Now she no longer wants to ‘submit herself’ and accept everything just for money and fame as she did in the past because she was legally obliged and not to do so. She did it many times especially when she was still in the group, but unlike in the past, she luckily no longer has the same kind of obligations. So if she doesn’t want to do something now, she simply doesn’t. She says no to what she doesn’t accept and walks away from that (I talk and I walk away) by not caring if she doesn’t have the same success as before because she prefers not to have that kind of success anymore but to remain herself, rather than have it and be just a product (what you made me); a different person from who she really is.

Verse 2:

“And I know this is all too familiar

Feel the motive behind all that fake love”

In Olivia Rodrigo’s voice 🎤: 🎵 Did you get deja vu, Laur? 🎶 No, but all joking aside. By ‘I know this is all too familiar’, she means what she has already experienced in the past and which she has once again found herself in front of. Once out of both Epic/Syco and Maverick, she believed she would’ve be dealing with better people, but it wasn’t like that. She realized that those kinds of people are everywhere because it’s the music industry that’s like that. The problem isn’t the single label or the single management team, it’s the entire industry. The problem isn’t the surrounding, but the people who are in it. Not all of them luckily, but most of them unfortunately.

By ‘Feel the motive behind all that fake love’, on the other hand, she describes precisely that kind of people. The fake ones who first treat you well because they want something from you, and then show themselves for who they really are when they don’t get it and try to hinder you, punish you, destroy you, and ‘bury me alive’ (verse 1) because of it.

So. Although I said it playfully at first, these two sentences go perfectly well together to describe the sense of deja vu that Laur felt.

 

*Small note* In the next three sentences of the verse, I will use these ‘---’ to complete her sentences as if I were Lauren to give you my interpretation. I’ll then continue as I always have. Oh and, she’s talking about her music here.

 

“I can’t take all these unsolicited opinions --- Nope, not anymore. I don't want them. Thanks, but no thanks.

Go ahead and be the scared ones --- with someone else who’s ready to tell you yes to everything and who doesn’t have a vision on how they want their own songs. Someone else who has no problem being a marketable product/puppet.

Either way, I’ll get it done” --- with other producers, songwriters, collaborators, etc., of my choice.

 

“I’ve been told I’m too much

Too proud, too cruel

Too wild, difficult to be around”

Let’s also add too confident, too sincere, and too honest from the people who mocked her at school before she became famous, shall we? Or maybe too fat, too arrogant, too full of herself, too whore, and all the other things said by the haters over the years? 😒😒😒🙄🙄🙄

I was being sarcastic of course, guys. I mean, can our girl ever have a break?

“With too much to say

Never in the right way

So, what’s the right way?”

Rhetorical question here because the right way is exactly the way she is. She has no intention of behaving in the ‘right way’ they want because it would mean not being authentic and automatically it would no longer be the right way because she would be fake.

Chorus:

“If I can’t be me

Who do you want me to be? (Who do you want me to be?)”

I love, love, love, love this. For real. It’s so powerful. And it doesn’t surprise me that this part along with the rest of the chorus is repeated four times, because it’s the most important part and it encloses the whole song perfectly.

“‘Cause if you can’t see beyond your gaze”

Behind their ideas to be the perfect product without looking at the person and their feelings.

“You don’t phase me and I don’t trust you anyway

‘Cause runnin’ through life, I figured out time

Don’t wait for no one”

After all these years and precisely because of what she’s been through, she realized she can’t wait for them to see it the same way she does or for someone to ‘save her’. She prefers to ‘save herself’. Therefore, she will continue to be wary, not to trust, and above all, to remain authentic as she says here:

“So while I’m alive, I’ma just be me (I’ma just be me)

Whoever that ends up being”

And that's it, dear Anon 😉 This song is dedicated to one particular asshole who gave her the idea, but mostly, it's dedicated to all those assholes who tried to tell her what kind of music she should have made, how she should have behaved, and how she should have felt. She decides for her, and she doesn’t care if she doesn’t have the same success anymore. Just like she doesn’t care about all the rest like the expectations and superficial perceptions they have of her that are completely wrong.

I hope you enjoyed it, and I wish both of you Anons and everyone else reading this, a beautiful day ❤🥰🤗

[lavenderbexlatte]

more & more

stray kids 2.6k words female reader insert FemDom!Reader x Sub!3RACHA mature

🖤 warnings: light degradation 🖤

Series Masterlist (Parts 1-7)

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It’s all three of them. 

When that happened, you’re not quite sure. This is why you hate house parties, hate being messy drunk all on your own. There’s so many people milling around, crashing on couches, watching movies in the low light, disappearing into bedrooms to do God knows what.

You’re leaning on the wall, just watching the room at large. It’s a den, of some sort, a living room. A family room? You don’t know. There are long, worn, slouching sectional couches and a coffee table laden with bottles and cups. A television playing some movie casts a gentle bluish light over everything. It’s the quietest room in the house by far; you can hear loud laughter from the kitchen and bumping music from the backyard. You were content to just people-watch, enjoy being innocently drunk on your own and watching other people be less-innocently smashed.

This isn’t your first solo party, but it’s by far the most boring. Usually by now you’ve made a few friends who’ll carry you through the night, fun to dance and drink with and probably never see again. Not tonight. Up until now, it’s just been you, a series of drinks that you fished out of the fridge yourself, and lots of empty space.

But now, you’re surrounded by all three of them. On your left, Chan, propped casually on the wall himself, like he just happened to be there. On your right, Jisung, looking at you with that stupid grin, the really big one that shows his crooked tooth and pushes up his round cheeks. And right in front of you, Changbin, just regarding you coolly.

You know them. Everyone knows them. It’s far more surprising that they know you.

Because those three, they’re popular. Popular in a way that you didn’t really know could happen on an enormous college campus. Everyone knows them: Chan the music production major, president of the business honors frat; Changbin the creative writing whiz, Model UN president; Jisung, music major, only a sophomore but already leading the music honors society. They formed a project group once for a music production class project, as the legend goes, and the rap song they wrote, performed, and produced went Soundcloud viral. The rest is history. They’re local celebrities now, inseparable and insufferable.

They sit in front of you in your Physics 101 lecture. It’s a science class for nonscience majors, so you do alright for yourself, but you have no idea how these three are acing it the way they are. They talk and joke and write rap lyrics during class; Chan always has his production software open on his laptop, and Jisung is constantly scribbling down verses and bits. You’d think it was Changbin keeping them afloat, but he’s usually half asleep, propped up on one elbow as he nods off.

Not that you pay attention. Not that you care.

You’d care less if they weren’t so attractive. They’re all colored hair and big personality and annoying loud laughs while you’re trying to remember how to calculate redshift, apologies and soft smiles when their chairs bump into your desk.

The four of you even did a class project together once, a small star observation thing that only took a few hours, but it was a few hours of nighttime with them. But you were never close, you never even really talked beyond the basic chit-chat of classmates. You can barely remember their last names. You’re sure they don’t know yours.

So there’s really no reason for the three of them to be looking at you the way they are right now, on either side and directly in front of you, eyes trained on you.

You’re caged in, but you don’t hate it. You kind of like it. Really like it.

Changbin doesn’t say anything. None of them do. You don’t either. You just look at Changbin, your back pressed against the wall. He lifts one arm, all biceps and triceps and shoulders in a tight t-shirt, and rests his palm flat on the wall over your shoulder. He’s barely taller than you, but you feel pinned there, thoroughly caged in. It’s not a feeling you’re used to, and it sends a funny little thrill down your spine.

You break the silence first. “What are you doing?”

Changbin just keeps looking it you. It’s Chan who answers.

“Taking a risk.”

Huh.

You don’t say anything to that, just fixing Changbin with an even stare back. He leans forward, just enough that you think, oh Christ, he’s gonna kiss me.

He keeps coming until he doesn’t.

He veers to the side, right as your eyes flutter shut, and you open them to find his lips on Jisung’s, just a short tender press that leaves Jisung laughing after him. The big arm keeping you against the wall, holding you without even touching you, drops back down, and Changbin leans to the other side. With a little smirk as though he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, he kisses Chan, just the same.

You’re not quite sure what that’s meant to signal to you, or why they’re choosing to mess with you like this, but seeing them be so casual and tender sends an embarrassing wave of arousal through you. You wonder why you haven’t seen this part of their relationship before, if you’ve just been oblivious of it these months sitting behind them.

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, local celebrities, inseparable bros…more than friends?

Changbin regards you again, grinning smooth and sneaky. He pauses, and you nod your consent ever so slightly, egging him on. With a little huff of a laugh, a little bit of alright, alright, he finally kisses you, all firm pressure and warm confidence. One of your hands goes up to touch him, hold him, but Jisung grabs your wrist as it rises beside him and holds it back down firmly against the wall. You don’t try it with the other hand. Chan will probably do the same.

He pulls away, still grinning. You’re breathless, but clear-headed.

“There’s that pretty blush,” says Chan, cavalier, “You got all pink-cheeked and flustered like that when ‘Bin walked into you in the Starbucks the other week, you remember that?”

You barely do. It was weeks ago, just a brush against you that sent your books tumbling out of your arms when you realized who it was, sneaking behind you with their hand on the small of your back. It had surprised you, more than overwhelmed you, but you do remember your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you collected your books and notes from the floor.

“We decided we wanted to see it again,” says Jisung.

And suddenly it’s clear. They’ve underestimated you. Cornered you at a party, decided it would be easy to get the shy girl from Physics to fuck around with them a little. Three handsome and popular guys, versus little old you. No contest, right?

Oh, this will be fun.

You glance around at the three of them, taking in their expressions and stances, the way they lean into you or away. It’s clear that Jisung is the least sure of himself, whether for his age or his personality, you don’t know.

It’s easy enough to turn toward Jisung, wrenching your arm around his grasp. You lean in close, until you’re practically nose-to-nose with him. He’s always doe-eyed, but right now you swear you can see your own cocky little grin reflected back in his pupils.

“Only Changbin gets to have fun?” you ask, quietly, relishing the way Jisung twitches toward you.

Changbin scoffs, but Jisung surges forward to kiss you, too, much more eagerly. You barely let him touch your lips before you back off, and he chases you as you lean back, giving away his own desperation.

“Aw,” you coo.

He raises the hand that isn’t still holding fast to your wrist, as if you grab you, cup your face, bring you closer, and you pull back all the way.

“No,” you say sweetly.

Immediately, his hand darts back down to his side. Good. Very good. You press your lips to his again, just barely any pressure at all, and repeat your little game, pulling back and making him chase you.

After a moment, Jisung seems to realize what you’re doing, that you’re not going to let him any closer, and he relaxes again, his expression equal parts confused and intrigued. The other two are watching you with wide eyes. Changbin might as well be drooling.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not that easy to push around,” you say, smiling brightly.

“Figures,” says Chan, amused.

He’s still not touching you, hasn’t touched you at all. He’s just leaning there, a warm presence by your side. For some reason, that interests you even more. Maybe he’s going to be a challenge.

“And anyway, we shouldn’t cause a scene in front of all these people,” you turn slightly, meeting Jisung’s eye, “You gonna let go?”

Surprised, Jisung releases your wrist that he’s been squeezing all the while, and you cross your arms over your chest. You turn to face front again, forcing a little more space between yourself and Changbin.

Chan laughs. “You were wrong, ‘Bin.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Changbin mutters. “Find someone sweet and quiet, they wanna do you up in shibari and peg you. Every single time.”

He’s giving you ideas, which is dangerous and delightful. You wonder who’s done that stuff to them before. You kind of want to send that person a congratulations card, give them a high-five.

“Must just be our type,” Jisung muses.

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Just once, can’t we actually be into a sub?”

“Cuz that would work so well for us,” Jisung replies. “Another sub. Perfect.”

“So what are we doing here?” you ask, curiosity truly bursting, “What is this?”

“Whatever you want it to be,” Chan says smoothly.

“You’re not just out here preying on innocent girls, are you?” you ask.

You don’t think they are. Everything you know paints them as harmless, more than a little dorky, good-natured and boisterous. But it’s easy to imagine someone less strong-willed than you getting swept away by the charm pouring off these three like Axe body spray off a middle schooler. They probably don’t even know how this looks, cornering someone and planting one on them.

Chan shakes his head, letting his hand wander over to tug Changbin into his side. “Nah. We were out for a few drinks, catching up with some people. And we saw you. Figured it was worth a shot.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Soft dom me into fucking you?”

Chan’s grin is rakish and ridiculously confident as he strokes Changbin’s shoulder. “It’s worked before.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say again.

You spare a glance around the room. Nobody has even noticed the four of you doing this very strange dance of power in the corner. The television is still blaring some old comedy, and people still recline on the assorted chairs and sofas. You’re in the clear to keep this going. You smile to yourself.

“I’m not disappointed,” says Jisung. “Are you two disappointed?”

Changbin shakes his head. Chan just keeps looking at you, still grinning bright and confident.

It occurs to you then, what Jisung has just said. About another sub not working out, with the three of them. They must all lean more submissive, then. Even Chan, under this thick layer of brat. You can work with that. He just needs a bit of an attitude adjustment.

So you move toward him, reaching for his face. He leans into the touch, until you move up to grab him by the hair. You remember when he was blonde, earlier in the school year, and an odd bluish grey before that. Somewhere in the middle was a shocking red that only lasted a day, a washable hairspray color. But now, his hair is inky black waves, and you twist your fingers into the curls that flyaway over his forehead and tug gently, tilting his chin up, until he’s backed himself against the wall, palms scrabbling at the wallpaper for purchase.

You just hold him like that, his hair a dark streak in your fist, not even pulling. Just holding him, letting the anticipation work its magic. Before long, he’s squirming ever so slightly in your hold, still meeting your eye stubbornly, pretending that he doesn’t want you to pull his hair, manhandle him more, do something.

“Is this it?” he scoffs.

“I don’t want to come on too strong,” you shrug.

Chan has the boldness to look bored. “You’re not doing anything. Maybe we were right the first time, and you’re just putting us on.”

You tug on his hair at the root, just once, hard enough that he jumps. Your other hand goes to the beltloop on his jeans, tugging his hips toward you just the slightest bit. It’s satisfying to watch him struggle, torn between rocking forward into you and staying put where the hand in his hair holds him up against the wall.

“Hm,” you hum, “Is this too much?”

You’re teasing him, and he knows it, since you’ve barely done anything at all. You can tell that he hates the way you’re patronizing him, from the way his lip curls into a sneer.

“No,” he rasps, “More.”

Changbin makes a small noise from just behind you, a groan or maybe even a moan, but you ignore it in favor of really driving your point home. You tug at the hair in your grip again, harder, and Chan arches that long pretty neck back with the tiniest gasp.

“More,” he says again.

“More and more,” you tease, fake sympathy dripping from your voice.

He nods eagerly, which tugs again at his own hair, making him gasp. You take that opportunity to kiss him, and he responds in kind, keeping his hands neatly by his sides without needing to be told. Where Changbin was measured, trying to impress you, and Jisung was surprised, Chan is eager to please.

You pull back, smacking your lips appreciatively. “Peach flavor, huh? Flavored lip balm. Aren’t you just a sweet peach.”

The way that Chan’s eyes blow wide when you say that is poetry. Oh, yes.

“You like that,” you say, “Don’t you, peach?”

Jisung lets out a desperate little sigh behind you, “Fuck.”

Oh. You’d forgotten that you’re putting on a show not just with Changbin and Jisung’s friend, but their partner. All the more reason to make it a good show.

“Tell me you like it,” you demand.

“I like it,” he says, almost before you’re finished speaking.

“Kiss him again,” comes Changbin’s voice. “Please.”

You oblige, just for a moment.

All at once, you break the kiss and pull away, letting go of his hair and backing all the way out of the little circle they’ve made around you. You take a second to appraise the three of them. Changbin is ruffled, far cry from the guy who’d made to pin you to the wall just a short while ago. Jisung is already hard in his tight jeans. And Chan is just a mess, still pressed to the wall where you’d left him, pink peach-flavored lips swollen from your handiwork.

You turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Chan asks, and you’re delighted to hear just a hint of a whine in his tone.

You fix the three of them with your best innocent look.

“You said you wanted more.”

As you turn again and saunter out of the family room(…den…living room?), you can hear the telltale sound of several desperate pairs of feet following you out.

Perfect.

[comradekatara]

aang & ty lee friendship facts

from time to time, aang and ty lee conceive of a project that requires funding and so they have to ask sokka for the money. they are basically unstoppable when they do this. their puppy eyes are just irresistible and no one can say no when they coo the word "pleeeeease"

the last project they came up with that required funding was particularly hard to say no to because it was an ingenious reinvention of a technology sokka himself originally developed. it was really just a big balloon in a weird shape, but they called it a "bouncy castle" and hoped to provide one for a small town fair in the earth kingdom

sokka was proud of the surely extensive mathematical work that they used to develop it until he learned that they pretty much just doodled the idea and it happened to work on the first try

small animals, like sparrowrabbits and parrotcats, are always flocking to them for food and friendship. as a result, they both keep a small bag of cereal on hand at all times so that they can feed their new friends. they carry separate types of cereal so that if an animal doesn't like what aang has to offer, he can borrow some from ty lee to ensure a happy customer, and vice versa

they like to go ice skating in the winter but always avoid inviting katara and sokka. sure, they can skate fine, being from the south pole and all, but aang and ty lee privately agree that their technique is lacking in grace and artistry, and it's just more fun with a fellow artiste

if they said that shit where katara could hear them, she’d unfreeze the ice beneath both their feet and send them into the freezing water below :) see who’s artistic NOW

they once showed up to an event wearing the same scarf. like not two separate scarves made with the same pattern. they were wearing the same item and just stuck together the whole time. also that scarf was a snake who just really liked them and didn’t want to leave!

their friends are constantly surprised to learn that although they don’t live together or even see each other all that much, they share certain items that are “theirs” for dedicated use as a duo. for instance, aang picks ty lee up to go to the beach and she says “i’ll go get our towel.” they share a towel! just one towel! and mai is alarmed when she and ty lee visit aang at the air temple and aang promptly exclaims “time to see our kids!” (the kids turn out to be a bunch of plants they planted together. false alarm.)

they come up with a plan to prank zuko. first, they beg to give him a makeover. he accepts way too fast. though their plan was to make him look like a clown, they realize that he is far too trusting and abusing that trust would just be cruel. so instead they just give him gold eyeliner. they communicate this plan to each other pretty much telepathically. when zuko gazes at his reflection in the mirror like he’s just seen god, aang and ty lee leave satisfied that they’ve done a good thing today.

on one night in late october, 118 AG, they get fucked up on cactus juice and have the exact same dream. it’s uncanny. for a month they’re convinced they are twins who were separated at birth and drive sokka crazy as he begs them to understand that that doesn’t make sense.

there’s a stretch of time when ty lee is kind of aloof and secretive for a few days in a row. for some reason, aang intuits that this is because ty lee and mai are fighting over whether or not to have a baby. he decides to meddle help with the situation by putting on a puppet show about why babies are a lot of work, since he assumes that ty lee is on the side of no baby and he wants to help her bring mai around. two minutes into the play, mai and ty lee start making out. for a while, aang keeps up the performance, hoping this means that his plan worked, but then mai and ty lee excuse themselves to take their makeout session somewhere a little more horizontal and aang realizes that this had absolutely nothing to do with him or his art, and they will never ever have kids.

ty lee is very impressed by the fact that aang remembers all of her sisters without even trying, despite only meeting them once. this is more than ty lee can say for her parents, who have to sing a little song to keep track of them all.

aang and ty lee are meditating together when they accidentally find themselves in the spirit world. they weren’t trying to get to the spirit world, but now that they’re here, they may as well go exploring. they spend weeks there hanging out with various spirits until ty lee remembers that mai’s birthday is coming up and neither she nor aang have gotten her a gift. they return to the material plane to help toph make her a dagger with her favorite poem carved into the hilt.

at one point while in the spirit world, aang just turns into kyoshi, and she’s like “omg kyoshi!!! big fan” and then she realizes that she made a pun and there’s an awkward pause before kyoshi starts guffawing. ty lee tells this to suki later, who says that that makes sense, as she’s always been into people who enjoyed stupid puns.

during their time in the spirit world, they can’t seem to shake off koh the face stealer. he’s fascinated by ty lee, and keeps trying to neg her. luckily for ty lee, keeping her face completely passive is one of the easier things she’s ever had to do. when aang praises her for putting up with koh for so long, she shrugs and says, “he’s nothing compared to azula.”

aang is very pleased by the fact that mai and ty lee have decided to go vegetarian because he believes this to be a matter of his influence. ty lee doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it was because suki said, “you can’t be real lesbians otherwise.”

ty lee knew about aang’s plans to throw her a surprise party when he first had the idea three months ago while they were playing pai sho. when she walks through the door and everyone yells surprise, ty lee does such a good job of seeming genuinely shocked that aang brags about it later on that night. he says, “I’m so glad I was able to deceive you, master of deception herself!” and ty lee goes, “I know right! I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming!” aang rides that high for a week.