#people have bad knees dennis

[fingertipsmp3]

Going for a run when I don’t want to makes me feel like the most productive person alive idk

[spopsalt]

The Heart Part 2 vs Fear No Mort, a spop and Rick and Morty comparison!

Gotta be honest, didn't expect to make this post, I assumed that people would think they are too different to compare, but here we are! I will be comparing them based on the opening, emotional moments, the story, and the ending scene since that's the big moment for both of the episodes and the main thing people tend to focus on for these episodes. Then I'll give a general rating for them both, this will be a long post and different than usual, so please enjoy!

The opening

So with both of them I'll count the first 5 minutes as the opening, it's usually easier with Rick and Morty because it normally starts with a cold opening, but Fear No Mort doesn't have one. So I'll take the first 5 minutes of both of them

Ok let's rate the first 5 minutes on spop. There is a lot going on we see Catra protecting Adora because the plot told her to, then we see Glimmer somehow removing the chip from her dad which is...fine I guess? Then we see Bow with Scropia, none of these plot lines are all too interesting but I mean they work fine I guess. Could use a bit of explaining for how the chips get removed other than ✨️friendship✨️ yes I get it this is a kid's show, but still.

Sooo 1/10 for the opening

Ok now onto Fear No Mort, usually Rick and Morty episodes have a cold open but this one doesn't have one so I'll just use the first 5 minutes like how I did with spop, besides the blatant Denny's advertisement, it's not bad, it sets up the main plot very well and there's a few good jokes here, besides the incest joke at the beginning that we shall never speak of.

Sooo 9/10 for the opening! Very good at setting up the plot with some good jokes! Had to dock a point because capalitalism

The emotional moments

I had to rewatch the heart part 2 for this so I hate you just (I kid, I kid, I love y'all) Ok so the first emotional moment (Or it tries to be) is when Catra protects Adora from a monster that was attacking her, and like I said Catra is only protective when the plot demands it. And I...felt nothing. I literally did not feel bad at all. And pf course Catra can say hi to Adora, but can't apologize for leaving her on her deathbed when she literally was begging on her knees for her to stay. Cool cool cool. And then Glimmer removes the chip from her dad...somehow? It's unclear but whatever she did it worked. Also Micah insulting Glimmer seems like it's meant to be emotional but again I felt nothing because we never see how they normally interact so....their one hugs was nice though ig. Then we get Bow telling Scropia that Prime can't turn her into something she's not and that works? It's kinda dumb, then he does something with Entrapta maybe it said what it does in the previous episode but I'm not rewatching that <3 but yeah it removes everyone's chip and Scropia apologizes which is fine ig. Then Bow says they can't give up and for some reason prime's clones stop and let Bow finish his speech, I mean ig they're polite. And again I really don't feel anything at all. Shadow weavers death again I feel nothingggg. It was just such a lazy way to end her arc. I mean I guess I feel some sympathy for Adora because while Shadow Weaver was a horrible abusive influence on her life, she was still like a mother to her. Catra saying she's not going to leave Adora again, I do not care. Like she already left mutiple times even when Adora was ON HER KNEES BEGGING HER TO STAY. I can't feel anything here if Catra does apologize for that. Ok so they try to make you think Adora is going to die, but that's dumb because this is a KID'S SHOW! They won't just kill off their main protagonist! What are they? Amphibia? No! You know they won't do it so it doesn't make you feel anything. Also Catra is trying to encourage Adora to stay alive, and that's the only good thing she did here. Even then I can't feel sad when Catra has been abusive towards Adora, I just don't care. They also make you think Entrapta is going to die but we know nothing is going to happen so I could care less. They already did a fake out with Entrapta. Catra and Adora kiss and AHHHH MY EYES "I love you! I always have!" Uh-huh I'm sure you always did when you were abusing her.

0/10 for the emotional moments, it's trying way too hard

Even though it was hole Rick, we get a really cute scene of Hole Rick confiding in Diane saying "You're the only thing I can't replace " which uhmmm breaks my fucking heart? Yeah I really shouldn't feel bad for Rick buttttt I do. We also get a speech about happiness being a trap, which is honestly sad, it says "Happiness is a trap, it can't last forever, let's say you meet the love of your life, well it's still going to end, it's inevitable! Whether by the slow pull of a disease of the shock of loose footing on a hiking trail, whether it be the correasion of two personalities that reshape each other until they're incapable, or maybe it's the old stranger at the bar that says the things that need to be said to that person, that night." Yeah maybe it lears a bit into being edgy, but it still hurts. Also Morty puts his life on the line to save Hole Rick because he's codependent and believes that his worst fear is Rick dying, but it's even sadder than that. Just you wait we'll get into that scene soon. And look at the ending scene section for the last emotional moment.

9/10 might seem a little edgy at times, but still has a lot of great emotional moments that really hit

The story

It's...fine I guess? I mean the pacing is all messed up but I mean there's no glaring plotholes, and besides the god awful kiss scene it's...decent? Huh, how about that. Even though friendship getting the chip off some of the chipped characters is dumb.

3/10 for the story, it's fine, but can be dumb at parts

Its good, we get a lot of Morty which is great since he was servery underused in this season and it's great to see his trauma actually get some attention, so very VERY good story! The premise itself is very interesting as well and they use it to it's full potential

9/10, the pacing is a little slow at times, but it does a GREAT job with the story and use all of its potential

The ending scene

Meh, it just shows how everything is happy now, I mean yay! A happy ending! But it's just boring. But whatever

2/10 for the ending, again besides the kiss and romanticizing abuse, it's boring

It's so fucking good I can't give it justice with just words, just watch it and you'll see what I mean

spop remember to take notes! This is how you show someone feeling like they don't matter to someone else, it makes sense that Morty would fear that BECAUSE of Rick's consistent emotional abuse, and it's still heartbreaking because you KNOW Rick does care in his own way but you can't blame Morty for feeling that way. It's just an incredible scene

10/10 just speaks for itself if I'm being honest

Overall ranking:

The heart part 2: 2/10. Very VERY boring, tries too hard to be emotional and it romatizes abuse for a young audience and that's no good

Fear No Mort: 9/10 can come off as a bit slow at times, and not all the jokes hit, but it's a really gripping and emotional episode

[japage3moondog]

Got to Get You Into My Life! (paul mccartney x reader)

part 1: With A Little Luck

part 2: So Glad To See You Here

Mr. Klein had assured you that meeting the band was nothing to get scared about and that they were all very friendly. Still, you're nervous. It isn't often you meet new people and you want to make a good impression. You had practiced your routine of sleepless ironing the night before, starting your morning with a cup of coffee and a stomach full of dread.

You savoured the taste, hoping if you concentrate on something more immediate and positive it will trick your brain into not thinking about how terrifying your day is going to be. You meticulously brush your teeth to try and prevent any staining that might give a bad impression. Even though you're already hired, you're still a little scared that as soon as you walk in the room, they'll laugh you out of the position. You know it's an irrational fear though, or at least you hope it is.

The instructions were to meet at a popular cafe for some brunch and business, something you didn't know was possible for such a well known band. When you enter, you find the cafe almost completely empty save for who you assume is the band and Mr. Klein, the space no doubt booked out by him. They don't notice you at first, just chatting amongst themselves and enjoying their coffee.

You feel on edge immediately. They all seem to know each other so well and you don't want to interupt their conversation. Before you can scurry off to selfsabotage this job interview, Mr. Klein is beckoning you over. You take a seat near him. He introduces you to the group in clockwise order, then vice versa: Linda Eastman, Denny Seiwell, Henry McCullough, Denny Laine and Paul McCartney.

Paul looked exactly as he did in pictures. He sat in a very relaxed manner, seated right next to the more uptight Mr. Klein. He was leaned back into the chair, his legs slightly spread and his hands resting loosely on his thighs. His hair was fashioned into mullet, making him look a lot less serious and intimidating than you had him pictured in your head. You almost laughed when you saw him.

It was a strange experience, having seen him in posters and on television and now not just seeing him in person but working for him. Paul is at such a level and it's hard not see him as anything but larger than life, above conversing with inexperienced photographers, let alone hiring them.

On Paul's left hand side sat Linda, of lovely fame, her blonde feathered hair framing her face. She sat with her legs crossed, hands draped over her knees and leaned forward. It put you at ease to see someone who wasn't manspreading to the gods, other than Mr. Klein of course. She offered you a kind smile which you did your best to return.

You reel yourself back into the present moment, not wanting to ruin the moment for yourself. His striking brown eyes are looking at you but you try focus your gaze on the familiar Mr. Klein. You can't tell if Paul's face reads as displeased or if it's just your negative bias but you don't want to look at him too much in case you come off as a creep.

Mr. Klein pulls out a chair for you to sit down and hands you a small, paper menu to look over. You pretend to scan over it, already wording a polite decline to any refreshments he may offer you.

You ate breakfast before you left your house, partially because you were nervous about eating in front of strangers and partially because you were scared you would throw up everywhere if you ate anything that wasn't your usual breakfast. When you looked back at Paul to see if he was still staring at you, his eyes flitted away to Linda. You were torn between anxiety that Paul might be a serial killer that wants to steal your skin and flattery that Paul might find you attractive.

"Would you like anything?" Mr. Klein offers. "Paul charmed the cafe owner so it's on the house."

"No, thank you," You recite your pre-planned spiel. "I've already had breakfast."

"Not much of a coffee drinker, are you?" Paul comments.

"No, I had some this morning." You say. "I don't want to have too much because it makes me shaky." You're mortified that you just admitted to a group of strangers that you can't handle caffeine but no one else seems to catch your embarrassment. 

"I'll have to hold you to that on tour," He smiles. "we can't have the pictures coming out blurry, can we?" You giggle at his remark and for a small moment you swear you can see stars in his eyes. 

"So, you're a photographer?" Linda asks.

"I like to so." You answer.

"I'd hope you'd be more sure about that." Henry laughs. 

"Well, this is my first big photography job." You explain. "I know my stuff, don't worry."

"Don't sell yourself short," Linda says. "Allen showed us your portfolio, it had some very strong pictures in there."

"Thank you." You reply, bashfully. It's going exactly as you'd hoped, better than even. 

"Right, well, let's get down to it, shall we?" Mr. Klein says, pulling you out of your daze. The group nods and the conversation is steered into business territory. 

Mr. Klein outlines your job responsibilites again and, with input from the band, sets expectations. You listen intently, sitting on your hands so you don't fidget with them. You do your best to take a mental note of what he's saying: no excessive drinking or rowdiness on the tour bus or during shows, any broken equipment must be replaced at your own expense, and so on and so forth. Still, you hope he'll send you a written copy of these rules in case it slips your mind. Not that you have a habit of breaking expensive cameras or yelling on buses. 

Mr. Klein opens up a pocket book, flicking through his notes. He shows the page to Paul, searching for the words to explain what he has written. Paul giggles at the note and whispers what to say into Mr. Klein's ear. More than a little bemused, you shift forward in your seat, offering as much attention as you can muster.

"This should go without saying," Mr. Klein explains, a little red in the face. "but for legal purposes I'll state this clearly. If there are any sort of relations with any member or members of the band beyond friendship, you'll be terminated from your position." You have to bite your lip to prevent a laugh from escaping. It's a little funny to you that this rock band is so flirtatious that their manager has to tell you not to sleep with them. 

"I understand." You reply. "You won't have to worry about any of that." The eye contact Paul had been making with you before makes you question if you'll keep to your word.

"Wonderful," Mr. Klein says. "I'll have the bus pick you up from your address next month for the start of the tour."

You can't hold back an delighted smile at this news. As you've been telling yourself, you know you have the job but all these updates make it all the more real and all the more thrilling. 

"Thank you so much, sir." You say to Mr. Klein. "Thank you so much." You say to the group, still smiling. 

"Are you excited?" Paul asks. You nod your head in response. "We're so lucky to have you with us for the tour." You're half expecting a seated hug by his tone but he extends a hand to shake. You accept nervously. He's a weird guy. 

You go around the table shaking hands, fist bumps and saying goodbyes. Pulling away from the band feels like trying to leave a good friend after a great day out but you can feel your social energy draining and don't want to become spacy or godforbid snappy to your employers. You say one final group goodbye and Paul eyes follow you a final time as you leave the cafe. 

[canidaery]

First, my students read Freud’s “Mourning and Melancholia.” The father of psychoanalysis creates a binary of healthy and pathological grieving. If the bereaved is not wholly aware of their loss, and therefore cannot directly process it, this leads to a state Freud calls melancholia, resulting in “profoundly painful dejection, loss of the ability to love,” and other miserable and enduring consequences. In contrast, there is healthy mourning: the bereaved consciously knows their loss, and shuts out the world to grieve it, eventually returning to a state of normalcy, which Freud describes as a kind of equilibrium.

This conscious mourning can take the form of ritual. After Ed’s death, Bob and Ed’s partner Daniel disrobe and wash his body before it is taken away to be cremated. Glück writes, “Daniel and I unfold him and try to lift out one arm but it won’t be guided. It’s so like Ed, I have to laugh. Trying to steer him was always a challenge, like pushing a shopping cart with one bad wheel.” After the two have successfully removed Ed’s blue and white kimono, Bob focuses on a single leg, which “splays outward, then his knee falls inward, loose-jointed as a broken umbrella.” It’s an incredibly tender scene—more intimate than the sex scenes that populate the book with piss, come, an asshole “bubblegum pink, so clean it twinkled.” The scene of the washing is a kind of inventory, and the final body part recorded is Ed’s cock, from the tip of which a single drop of blood emerges. “The drop of blood is the only indication of the pandemonium that occurred within this body,” Glück writes, “Here to present itself for a bow, Ed’s murderous blood.”

The uncanniness of Ed’s being dead, even if it’s long expected, repeatedly has an air of the theatrical to Bob: “It’s a weird kind of play, someone’s death, that pressures the actors.” Everyone has their part. Still, these stilted roles, these practices, are meant to help the bereaved, to give shape to their mourning.

After Ed’s death, Bob thinks through mourning again and again. “Mourning is the fear of losing Ed combined with the fact of losing Ed,” he offers in one of several definitions. He even names Freud explicitly, and “Mourning and Melancholia” more referentially, using the words in close proximity. In a passage about the grief of time carrying us onward, he asks: “What is mourning? The will bends back, nailing me to the awareness of time. I spend days staring at a bright spot on the wall that moves with the sun, so I become a sundial, the melancholy motto is the self.”

. . .

Glück honors Ed’s life without insisting on the context, or perhaps retrieves Ed’s memory from its context, asking, in one of the few moments he names Ed’s death as one among many: “Was Ed’s death a trauma that replaced his life? Was he thrown into the mass grave of HIV? In mass death, recovery occurs in the collective mind over time. It may take a generation to reacquaint ourselves with the dead, for their rich complexity to be apparent once more.”

Robert Glück cofounded the New Narrative school in the Small Press Traffic Bookstore in San Francisco, through writing classes open to the public. The school of writers included transgressive icons like Dennis Cooper and Kathy Acker. New Narrative writing is identifiable by its careful observance of dailiness, including chat, sex, and sensory descriptions—rich complexity. One motivation, Glück writes in his essay “Long Note on New Narrative,” was to see if the writers “could come up with a better representation—not in order to satisfy movement pieties or to be political, but in order to be.” Queer people were among those not afforded unpolitical lives. Crimp paraphrases Michael Moon in arguing that the “normalcy” Freud expects a healthy griever to return to does not exist for gay men in a homophobic culture. Cultural production reflected this; the daily lives of queer people were hugely underrepresented in mainstream art in the 1970s. Yes, the personal is political, but perhaps there could be personal lives captured without the burden of political messaging. Glück asks, in his same essay on New Narrative, “What kind of representation least deforms its subject?” Perhaps one that refuses to instruct.

New Narrative began in the 1970s, predating the AIDS crisis, predating Ed’s death. I have spent years studying ACT UP, which began in New York in 1987 and was active in San Francisco in the final years of Ed’s life. I know well the context in which Ed is dying, at least as well as someone of my generation can. Ed died in 1994, near the end of the worst of the crisis: in 1995 the FDA approved the first protease inhibitors, and the following year saw effective combination therapy become the standard of care. Had Ed gotten sick just a bit later, maybe he’d still be alive today. Perhaps I am ruining Glück’s project, in a way, by stitching the story back into the political context. Near the end of his essay [“Mourning and Militancy”], Crimp suggests that militancy busies the hands of the bereaved, and this work, while vital, distracts from adequate mourning. “Militancy, of course, then, but mourning too: mourning and militancy.” I should let Ed rest, I think, and allow Glück to mourn.

Who is afforded a non-politicized death? Who is afforded a non-politicized life?

The murder of my acquaintance is nearly immediately instrumentalized by the right wing. He’d been a dedicated harm reduction activist—we’d helped to lead a Narcan training two weeks before his death—and the worst of the internet emerges to callously pronounce that the leftist got what was coming, given what he’d advocated for: dangerous streets. (He was killed by a stranger at a bus stop.) I find myself, perhaps naively, astounded by the cruelty—the online posts have the gleeful tone of cartoon villains, when the loss is unspeakable, impossible, devastating. Those who loved the man interrupt their mourning to insist publicly that the circumstances of his death would not have changed his political and moral convictions.

As sick as this makes me, I find myself strategizing elsewhere, sourcing material in the stories of others: a friend and I exchange articles, asking which newly published think piece or war diary will be the most likely to politically move people in our lives. The relatable Jewish Brooklynite, reflecting on their morphing relationship to the Jewish State, through statistic- and history-heavy analysis? Or will the first person account from Gaza, tragedy stylized in prose, persuade a reader that Palestinians deserve to live in safety and dignity? It feels dirty to plot like this, to utilize the real and present grief of others. But in this moment of urgency, it seems we are not above it. Maybe in a generation, I think, these dead will be able to rest.

– hannah gold, "voices of mourning"

According to Klein [in “Mourning and its Relation to Manic Depressive States”], when a later grief is experienced it is not only a fresh loss in the external world that must be contended with, but a disturbance in the subject’s internal world that was originally constructed in response to the grief associated with their early loss:

The pain experienced in the slow process of testing reality in the work of mourning thus seems partly due to the necessity, not only to renew the links to the external world and thus continuously to re-experience the loss, but at the same time and by means of this to rebuild with anguish the inner world, which is felt to be in danger of deteriorating and collapsing.

Klein declines to dispense with Freud’s term “normal mourning,” but she nonetheless modifies and stretches his definition: she identifies more intermediary stages in the process and claims that it involves reckoning not only with immediate grief but with more distant past experiences. She therefore seems to imply that mourning has both a tenacity and a longevity that Freud refuses to grant it.

Yet despite supplementing and revising Freud’s definition of mourning, the strangeness Rose observes in “Mourning and Melancholia” is not completely absent from Klein’s paper. Although her main focus is on manic depressive states and thus on obstructed mourning processes, ultimately, like Freud, Klein insists that “normal mourning” is a process with an end, even if she locates its beginnings in infancy and hence argues that its middle is longer and more fraught than in Freud’s definition. Only people who did not successfully overcome the “infantile depressive position” will fail to overcome a loss experienced later in life, whereas others will eventually reinstate their internal “good” objects.

Her essay ends by describing this end point. She declares that the mourner “overcomes his grief, regains security, and achieves true harmony and peace.”

. . .

[T]he weird abbreviated ending of Phenomenology of Spirit and “the extreme narrative compression of [Hegel’s] account of absolute knowing” seemed helpful for thinking through Klein’s similarly abrupt and surprisingly resolved conclusion to “Mourning and its Relation to Manic Depressive States.”

In an essay in The Dash, Comay analyses the ending of the Phenomenology in more detail. Although she observes that the book “suddenly sprints forward to the finish line,” she continues that, “it’s not just the traumatic abruptness of the last dash [by which she means both rush and the punctuation mark with which the book ends] but also a curious indeterminacy of the endpoint that intrigues me.” Everything that had been dilated over the course of many chapters is suddenly compressed, regurgitated so abruptly as to become almost illegible. Comay asks whether Hegel is a mourner or a melancholic, does he relinquish the lost object (mourner) or maintain it in “hallucinatory persistence” (melancholic)? The unanswerable answer seems to be that he is both: the dialectic continues even at the moment of its supposed cessation. Or perhaps mourning always retains a melancholic aspect; the terminable and interminable cannot be separated.

Comay argues that despite the appearance of closure and finality the Phenomenology “engages the repetitive, restless energy of the dialectic, its obsessive, circular doing and undoing: every inscription supplies its own erasure, every erasure its own reinscription, and this intransitive, tautological transition from negation to negation is relentless.” Proclaiming all scars healed enacts a violent erasure of its own. The form of the text remains scarred even if Hegel declares it conceptually healed. Comay claims that “the Phenomenology is the perfect case study of interminable analysis”; “antidote is… indistinguishable from injury, health from illness, and poison from cure.” It is this repressed or unresolved tension that Rose sees in Freud’s definition of mourning and that I want to argue can also be discerned in Klein’s essay. The wound remains hidden beneath a rhetorical sticking plaster that masquerades as healed flesh, but which threatens to fall off at any moment. Scars remain; wounds are not left behind. Maybe mourning never really ends, but that’s not the same as saying that nothing changes.

– hannah proctor, "mourning interminable"

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

A Community Post from YouTuber and Professional Horse Trainer Shelby Dennis

(Posted here with her permission -- Source: https://www.youtube.com/c/ShelbyDennis/community)

[Preamble from me: I have a couple of low-key “campaigns” for this blog: 1) posting/sharing content to get people over their fear of my personal favorite animals, including spiders and horses, and 2) trying to shift the focus of anti-bullying campaigns from the behavior of children among their peers to the responsibility of adults who teach those children.

I found Shelby Dennis’s channel when looking for horsey things to post. Then, the other day, she posted this message about how bullying horses is considered normal by a lot of horse trainers and riding instructors. And how she was taught to become a bully by the adults in her life. And how she’s trying to unlearn all of that.

So this fits two goals for my blog at once. And that’s why I asked her if I could share this here.]

I started riding at just 4 years of age.

At the same age, I started watching role models and adults openly mistreat horses in the name of teaching them how to “safely behave” around people.

I had loved horses since before I could even speak and initially was deeply uncomfortable with what I witnessed.

But, those I trusted as experts were doing it, so it must be okay, right? After all, adults were all knowing and knowledgeable.

A knee to the belly when a horse bloated for the girth being done up.

Reefing on the mouth of a horse who dares pull back a little or spooks sideways as you lead them to the arena.

A punch to the nose of a horse who is merely just trying to explore and interact with the world using his mouth, as his species is supposed to.

I saw all of this and more on a regular basis for the first several years of my riding career and it changed me from being the happy go lucky horse loving kid I was to being a child who still loved horses but was taught to take my frustration out on them.

In the process, I developed incredibly poor emotional control and was encouraged in using horses as a means for anger management, that I was justified when I disciplined my horses because they were being bad. I needed to show them who was boss, because that’s what I was told.

It may have been more damaging to me, as a child with undiagnosed ADHD as controlling difficult emotions was already hard for me, so this quite possibly was one of the worst lessons I could’ve learned in terms of where to direct my anger.

Breaking free from what encouraged me to not only elevate my level of anger but to redirect it onto the innocent beings that are horses has been a lot of work.

When you’re in fight or flight mode, you’re not thinking properly as is. It’s incredibly easy to sink into lifelong habits, so undoing what I was taught to do from such a young age took a lot of self reflection and accountability. It took a lot of mistakes, too.

And, I felt a lot of guilt during it. I made myself angrier by adding in the addition of anger towards myself, something I’d initially not been taught to feel because I was encouraged to feel righteous in my discipline of horses.

It’s been a lengthy journey of self reflection and really trying to sit with the gravity of what I was put through at a young age.

A child cannot be expected to fully understand how wrong the lessons they’re being taught are because they often trust the adults in their life implicitly. I was no different.

Even adults, when new to horses, are at the mercy of their first teachers, they may just be slightly more likely to see through the charade than a kid.

So, when you look at your faults as a horse person and start to feel guilty and beat yourself up, try to also sit with that discomfort and understand that you were misled by people much more experience than yourself.

That the true wrong is the fact that so many of these types of role models are readily available in the industry, not being held accountable and continued to be encouraged in teaching these ways. It makes it hard for us to avoid these types of teachers because they’re allowed to teach the way they do and there’s very little pressure, even still, for them to self reflect to the extent they need to.

New riders deserve access to better teachers. Teachers who won’t wrong them or their horses. Teachers who set good examples for them instead of setting them on a path of a lifetime of correcting mistakes and bad habits they picked up at the very beginning.

All of this starts with us persistently pointing out these issues and demanding the world we want to see. After all, we were the ones keeping such trainers in business. If the demands of those paying changes, so does the content we are being taught.

Horse show organizations also need to be pressured to help along with the process. If horse abuse no longer affords people ribbons and attention and instead impacts their livelihoods, they will no longer be as quick to engage in these methods at the expense of their horse because it no longer serves them.

Change is possible but it starts with the masses recognizing where it’s needed, even if it means being honest with your faults and where they started.

Check out her other links:

Website: http://milestoneequestrian.ca

Patreon: http://Patreon.com/sdequus

Facebook: http://Facebook.com/milestoneequestri...

[megamangx]

Dennis the menace fights for britian values

this is base on uk what witch was the only good noone never not seen the united states one so astop asking,

DENNUS THE MENACE FIGHTS FOR BRITIAN VALUES

Dennis the menace and Gnaster where in the menace mobile driving down the britian streets when he saw walter the softy outside the the asda "I HATE SOFTYS THEY ARE DEGENERATE AND MAKE BRITIAN WEAK!" dennis got out of the menace mobile and hit walter the softy with a tire iron "you fucking weak sofety british is a nation of the strong A COUNTRY FOR BULLIES NOT YOUR KIND!" he said and smashed walters knee caps with the iron.

"please i just want to exist with peace " walten said and denis his him some more and he was in pain "you should not have come here why did you not be more manly be a bully like me then you could fit in with britians values" Denis kicked him.

Kier starmer was behind him "good job dennis we need to put there kind in there place now finish him off DO IT DO IT!" he ordered and Dennis killed Walter the softy and laughed.

dennis was gived a knighthood for his deeds of protec ting the england values and made head bully for the county but deep down he was hanuted by the dark deems he had did and wandered had britens ideals been that good or was it was broke country that enforce miserable pain and unhapopy on its people

he had a cigarete and looked at night sky "I'll always be menace i can not change what i am" dennis said and gotted in the menace mobile to find new victim.

the end

authors note this was the bad ending and we must fight for good and not let this be future

[megan-loves-surveys]

#27.

　Layer 1: The Basics Name: Megan. Age: 36. Birthday: July 13. Gender: Female. Zodiac sign: Cancer.

　Layer 2: Your Family Do you have any brothers or sisters? I'm an only child, but I do have stepsiblings. Do you have any pets? No. Do you still live with your parents? I live with my Mum. Do you have any stepparents? Yes, a stepmum. How many cousins do you have? 6.

　Layer 3: Your Friends Who is your best friend? Ngawari. Who have you been friends with the longest? Laura, since 1996. Damn 28 years! What do you like to do with your friends? Depends which friend - some friends I go to wrestling shows with, some I just hang out with and Ngawari and I go to the gym together. Do you have more friends online or in real life? It's about equal with people online I actually consider friends.

　Layer 4: Your Home Do you live in a home, apartment, duplex, trailer, etc? House, it has two stories. How many rooms are there in your house? Our entire bottom floor is one big room that has the kitchen and living room in it, and upstairs we have two bedrooms and the bathroom plus a small hallway. Is your home large or small? In between. What is your favorite room in your house, and why? My room. Do you prefer having people over to your house, or would you rather go to theirs? Either is fine.

　Layer 5: Can you… Can you fold your tongue into the taco shape? I dunno xD Can you touch your toes without bending your knees? No. Can you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue? Never tried, but probably not lol. Can you hold up your end of a physical fight? Definitely not, I have a dodgy shoulder. Can you do any yo-yo tricks? No.

　Layer 6: Who Who inspires you the most, and why? Jon Moxley. He was an alcoholic who admitted he had a problem and asked for help. He went to rehab, got better and came back kicking so much ass. It's so inspirational, I love him so much <3 Who do you go to most often for advice? Depends on the problem. Who knows you better than you know yourself? My boyfriend, Who is someone that you would die or put your life on the line for, no questions asked? They know who they are.

　Layer 7: Do you… Do you still eat sandwiches without the crusts? Yes, but I always eat the crust first lol. Do you typically finish your meal at a restaurant, or need to take a container home? I'll always finish it. Do you pull an Oreo apart in order to eat it? Yes. Do you read a lot of gossip magazines? Sometimes. Do you make friends easily? Depends.

　Layer 8: How Many? How many people live in your house with you? 1. How many pets have you had in your lifetime? Literally 1 lol. How many meals do you eat a day? Depends, usually 2 cos I don't eat breakfast much.

　Layer 9: How How do you typically get to school or work? Most of the time I get the bus, but sometimes my boyfriend drops me off. How do you deal with a breakup? I do loads of fun stuff and hang out with my friends and distract myself. How do you like to help others? Depends. How do you sleep in bed? I sleep on my back cos of my bad shoulder, it means I can't sleep on my side.

　Layer 10: What What do you think happens when we die? Nothing. What toys did you enjoy most as a child? Barbies, Lego, a doll that was as big as me etc. What do you do if you witness someone being awful to someone else? It really depends on what is happening.

　Layer 11: Where Where is your favorite place to eat out? If I want fast food, then KFC. A restaurant, either Denny's or Porterhouse Grill. Where is the place that has the best ice cream in your area? Not sure. Where did you meet your current or last significant other? We met outside his house while I was jogging lol. Where can you be found at 7 PM., typically? That's when I eat dinner usually! Where can you find the best French fries? KFC, that salt they use is soooo good.

　Layer 12: When When did you find out the truth about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy? I have no clue actually. When do you typically fall asleep? I go to bed around 12:30 - 1am usually. When was the last time that someone paid you a compliment? My boyfriend is always complimenting me haha. When do you feel most comfortable? Depends.

　Layer 13: Why Why do you enjoy taking surveys so much? I like answering questions lol. Why aren’t you doing something else right now? Cos it's Saturday night and I'm bored. My boyfriend isn't around tonight, he's gone to see his son so I have nothing to do xD

　Layer 14: If… If you had a million dollars, what would you spend it on? I'd travel. A lot. And pay off my student loan xD If you found out someone was cheating on you, would you ever take them back? Probably not, but it depends. If you found a wallet with cash in the street, including identification, would you turn it in? Why or why not? Yes. Cos I think if they can't track the person down, you get the money, no? If you could have any food right now, what would you like? I don't want anything atm cos I just ate some Cheetos haha. If you found out that the world was going to end tomorrow, how would you spend your last day? I hate this question.

　Layer 15: Firsts When did you lose your first tooth? No idea. Who was your first teacher that you ever had? I don't remember her name. When did you first learn how to ride a bike? I never got off training wheels. FAIL lol. When was the first time you had sex? I was 14. Did your first birthday have a theme to it? No idea, the first birthday I remember was my 5th, I had a clown at it xD

　Layer 16: Lasts Last person you texted: My boyfriend, I was asking him what he had for dinner with his son. Last drink you sipped: Water. Last time you rode a bike: A proper bike, when I was a kid. But I rode an exercise bike at the gym today xD Last time you swam in a pool: Ages ago. Last person you hugged: My Dad.

　Layer 17: Favorites Favorite color: Purple. Favorite season: Summer. Favorite shape: Heart. Favorite letter: M. Favorite number: 13.

　Layer 18: This or That Pepsi or Coke? Coke. Movies or television? TV. Phone or tablet? Phone, cos I don't use my iPad anymore. Fruits or vegetables? Both. Animals or humans? Both.

　Layer 19: Which Which Pokemon is your favorite? LUXRAY. He is my bae <3 Which day of the week is your favorite? Friday. Which birthday celebration was the most memorable for you? My 21st for a good one, and my 30th for a bad one. Which holiday is your favorite? Christmas. Which shoe do you put on first? Left.

　Layer 20: Love Life/Relationships1 What is the name of your first love? Will. How many times can you honestly say you’ve been in love? 1. Have you ever been in a relationship before that was abusive in any way? No. Have you ever been engaged or married before? No. Do you have any children? No.

　Layer 21: Jobs, Dreams, & Goals What did you want to be when you grew up (as a little kid)? Flight attendant or popstar xD What do you aspire to be now? What interests you? I always wished I went into law. What is the most recent goal you’ve achieved? Losing weight. What is a goal you are still striving to reach? Publish a book. Have you ever won any sort of awards before? If so, for what? I participated in a English competition as a kid and I scored in the top 1% of every student in NZ and Australia.

　Layer 22: Opinions & Beliefs Pro-life or pro-choice? Pro-choice. Were you raised with any sort of religious background? If so, then what? No. Democrat, Republican, or Independent? No idea, I'm not American. For or against the death penalty? I really don't know. Thoughts on assisted suicide? I voted for it to become legal when they did the referendum.

　Layer 23: Currently/Today/Present What day is it? April 13, it's Saturday. What’s the weather like outside? Today it was very changeable - it was sunny, it was windy, it was rainy, it was cool, it was warm. Right now it seems like the wind has died down a bit. What have you eaten? I had a Starbucks frappe, a banana and then dinner which was potato salad, ham, bread, boiled eggs, pineapple and cheese. Then later on I had some Cheetos and some Maltesers. Did you run any errands? No. What time is it? 10:53pm.

　Layer 24: Yesterday Did you have a work shift? Yes, I worked from 9am to 3pm. Did you eat out anywhere? Yes, I met my Mum for lunch cos my boss told me to take a longer lunch (love him!) - we went to a café and I had poached eggs, hashbrowns and toast. Was it snowing? It doesn't snow where I live, plus even if it did it's too warm atm. Who did you last say goodnight to? My boyfriend, via text. Did anything unusual happen? I was at work, cos I don't usually work on Fridays, I switched shifts this week.

　Layer 25: Tomorrow Do you have to go to school/class? No, it's Sunday and I don't work weekends. Does this day have any sort of significance to you? No. What is a chore that needs to get done? Nothing. Will you hang out with friends? No. What time will you be expected to be awake by? No set time, I'll prob wake up at like 10 or so.

　Layer 26: Have You Ever Performed a magic trick successfully? No. Sat or laid on a rooftop and looked at the stars? No. Walked around with your underwear on inside out or backwards all day without realizing it? Not that I know of xD Touched a snake? There isn't snakes in NZ. Been bitten by an animal? If so, what animal? By a cat for sure.

　Layer 27: School Life Are preschool and kindergarten mandatory where you live? I actually don't know lol. Were you or anyone you knew homeschooled? Yes, this girl I went to school with, her sisters were homeschooled but she wasn't for some reason. How odd. Did you attend public or private school? Public. Were you bullied in school, popular, or somewhere in-between? In between. What is the highest level of education that you completed? University.

　Layer 28: Your Appearance Eye color: Green. Hair color: Naturally blonde, but currently purple & blue. Height: 5'3". Weight: Not saying, lol. Do you have freckles, moles, beauty marks, or birthmarks - and where? I have freckles, and moles all over the place, especially on my arms.

　Layer 29: Electronics, Internet, & Social Media How much time do you spend on the Internet per day? Too many hours. Which social media platforms do you belong to? Facebook and I have X/Twitter but I barely use it. When’s the last time you replaced the batteries in your television remote? No idea. Are you more likely to stream movies and shows on your laptop, or cast them to your television? I mostly watch on my laptop, but I do watch WWE PPVs on my TV. Do you have an e-reader, or do you prefer actual books? Actual books.

　Layer 30: Are You Are you still in school? No. Are you a member of the LGBTQ+ community? Yep, I'm bisexual. Are you looking forward to anything coming soon? Sure. Are you dreading anything coming soon? No. Are you gullible or naive? Not really.

　Layer 31: Does Does your workplace make you feel like you can never take a day off without feeling guilty about it? Not at all. I work 3 days a week, and if I do need to take one of them off or switch days, my boss is very flexible. Does anyone out there hate you? I hope not. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Not at all. Does crying make you feel less strong? Hell no.

　Layer 32: Would You Do the Polar Bear Plunge? Dunno. Ever try to walk across a room blindfolded? Why would I even need to do that xD Swim with sharks? No. Go into outer space, given the chance? I don't think so. Go out in public, looking how you do right now? Sure, yes. I literally went to the gym in this exact outfit earlier xD I'd just need to put shoes on lol.

　Layer 33: Pets/Animals Do you have any pets? If so, what type, and their names… I don't have any. If not, what type of pet have you always wanted? I just want a cat. What is your favorite animal? Cat <3 Do you think it is cruel to have circus animals? Yes. How often do you walk your dog, if you have one? How often do you scoop the litterbox, if you have a cat? -

　Layer 34: Food What is your favorite breakfast item? Croissants. What is your favorite kind of dessert? Ice cream or chocolate. Do you eat all three meals everyday? No, I usually skip breakfast, and I skip lunch on weekends. What’s the longest you’ve gone without food? Probably like a day and a half or so.

　Layer 35: Past Does your past ever come back to haunt you at times? Yes. What is one of your favorite memories of the past? Traveling to the USA for Wrestlemanias. What is something that you used to do in the past, but no longer do? Go clubbing a lot lol. Which historical time period would you like to go back to and check out? Hmm...

　Layer 36: Future Do you think you will ever get married one day? No. Do you plan on ever getting a different job in the future, or are you happy with the one you’ve got? I like my job for now, but who knows what the future brings. What age do you plan to retire at? Or do you plan on working til you’re dead? It depends on what the retirement age is by the time I get there, I mean I'm like 35 years away from that lol. What is something on your bucket list worth mentioning? Attending a Royal Rumble, sit front row at a PPV, go to an AEW and NJPW show, visit Japan, visit Rottnest Island and meet a Quokka etc. If given the opportunity to see how your future plays out, would you take it, or no? I dunno.

　Layer 37: Hygiene How often do you shower? Not everyday, I admit that, sometimes I'm too lazy. How often do you brush your teeth? Twice a day. Do you actually iron any of your clothes? No. I don't think we even own an iron anymore xD How often do you do laundry? Once a week. How long do you use a bath towel before switching it out? Once.

　Layer 38: Clothing, Makeup, & Style Do you wear nail polish? If so, how often do you paint your nails? It depends. How would you describe your sense of style? I dunno what you'd call it but I mostly wear wrestling t-shirts, yoga pants, short shorts, playsuits, short skirts and Converse. Are there any popular trends that you do not find appealing? Those shapeless dresses that have been popular recently, they look like sacks. Where do you typically buy your clothing from? Kmart, Warehouse, H&M etc. What sorts of accessories do you wear/use? I wear a FitBit and jewellery, mainly rings and bracelets.

　Layer 39: Hobbies Do you still color, even as an adult? Not really. Do you/would you like to crochet, knit, cross-stitch, etc? No. What’s the last thing you crafted all by yourself? No idea. Do you use Pinterest at all? No. What’s the last thing that you cooked or baked? I suck at cooking.

　Layer 40: Dislikes List some of your pet peeves here. People being a hypocrite, people who walk slow and block paths, people who hog machines at the gym, when I miss the bus by mere seconds, when people at work bug me constantly about their cases, when the weather changes constantly etc. What are some things that annoy you about yourself? I can be lazy and procrastinate too much, I get obsessive about bad things, I get anxious far too easily etc. Is there anyone out there who you actually hate? Who? The woman who hit and run me, I hate her with all my heart and soul. She almost killed me and ruined my life, fucking up my shoulder. What is a feeling that you dislike? Anxiety. Do you get some ugly road rage while driving? I don't drive.

　Layer 41: Random Have you ever successfully pogoed on a pogo stick? I don't think I've ever used one lol. Have you ever mastered the jump rope? I wouldn't say mastered, but I was alright at it. Do you know what it feels like to be truly happy? Sure. What’s your favorite type of survey, and why? Ones with actual questions, I don't like bolding ones that much. I'll do them, but they're not my fave.

　Layer 42: Music What are some of your favorite genres of music? Pop, J-pop, K-pop, rock, classical, new age etc. What are some music genres that you can’t stand? Country and screamo. If you had a blank pair of concert tickets, who would you hope to be going to see? Ayumi Hamasaki!! Do you still listen to music on the radio from time to time? No. iTunes, Spotify, Pandora, Amazon Music, or YouTube? I use iTunes and Spotify - iTunes is for all my obscure pop music and Pokémon soundtracks, and Spotify is for everything else.

　Layer 43: Books What were some of your favorite books as a child? Anything tbh, I read so much. What genre of books do you typically read most often? Fantasy. What are some of your favorite books as an adult? Weather Warden series! What is a book that you were required to read for school that you actually enjoyed? None, they all sucked. Do you read any newspapers or magazines anymore? Sometimes.

　Layer 43: Around the World Where’s the best place you’ve taken a vacation and/or day trip to? There's so many choices, but I'd go with New York City or New Orleans, both amazing places. Where is somewhere that you’d like to go someday, assuming you have the funds to do so? Japan. My BFF is there right now, I'm SO jealous of her lol. Where do your family members originate from? Scotland, England, Ireland and NZ. What is your favorite type of ethnic cuisine? I really like Indian food. What is something that is typically representative of your own culture? Dunno xD

　Layer 44: Would you rather… Drink apple juice or grape juice? Neither tbh. I like grapes but not as juice, and apple juice is meh. Wear pants or shorts? Depends on the weather, but I prefer shorts more. Be taller or shorter? Shorter if I had to pick. Go to a zoo or an aquarium? Aquariums are fun. Visit an art gallery or a museum? Museum! I don't really like art.

　Layer 45: Movies Do you remember what the first movie was that you saw in theaters? No. What are some of your favorite movies you’ve seen? Simpsons Movie, Cagefighter, 12 Rounds 3, The Wrestler etc. What genre of movie do you typically enjoy? Action or comedy. What is a movie you’ve seen that you weren’t expecting to like, but were pleasantly surprised? Dunno.

　Layer 46: Personality Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? In between. Are you more easygoing and laid back, or anal? I'm mostly laid back, but I have my anxious uptight moments. Are you kind to everyone who shows that they deserve kindness? Yes. Describe your sense of humor. I find the weirdest shit funny. Do you tend to over-share? Probably xD

　Layer 47: Celebrities Which celebrity has given their child the most unique name, in your opinion? Most of them. Are there any celebrities that you keep tabs on/read articles about often? Only wrestlers. The rest I don't care about. Who is/are your celebrity crush(es)? Jon Moxley <3 Have you ever personally met someone famous before? If so, then who? Yep! John Cena is the most famous person I've met - he is legit the loveliest person! I've also met loads of other wrestlers, Melanie Martinez, Atomic Kitten and Five <3 Who is a celebrity that you’re getting tired of hearing about all the time? Taylor Swift (I like her music but I'm sick of her), Meghan Markle, the Kardashians, The Rock (he's been in WWE a lot lately lol) and prob more.

　Layer 48: Emotions When was the last time you cried? The other day. What are some things that you’re afraid of? Spiders, clowns, ladders, losing my loved ones etc. What is something small that makes you happy? Shuffling my playlist and it gives me like 10 amazing songs in a row. Who is the last person that you were angry with, and about what? Some idiot at work. Are you typically a shy or outgoing person? In between.

　Layer 49: Digging Deeper What is your favorite alcoholic beverage? Jim Beam or Malibu. How old were you when you got drunk for the first time? 16. Oops. LOL. Do you smoke? No. Have you ever taken and sent naked pictures of yourself? Yes. Have you ever done any drugs other than marijuana? If so, which ones? I've not even done weed, lol.

　Layer 50: Games What are some of your favorite video games? Pokémon, The Sims, Civilization, Starcraft, Ace Attorney, Cyberpunk 2077, LA Noire, Broken Sword etc. Do you have any computer games that you play regularly? ^^^^ What was your favorite board game, growing up? Monopoly, my BFF and I played it every single she came over to my house xD How about your favorite card game? Last Card or Asshole xD How good are you at solving puzzles? (such as a Rubik’s cube, word puzzles, or putting together a jigsaw puzzle) Depends.

[fcktvvilight]

dennis cullen is a 31 year old vampire/human hybrid based on dennis from hotel transylvania 2. he is a superhero headquarters employee with the power of flight and transformation. he uses he/him pronouns, and most of his memories are intact !

INFO.

full name: dennis michael cullen

date of birth: august 13, 1993

hometown: ... transylvania

zodiac: leo sun, gemini moon, gemini rising

sexuality: bisexual/biromantic (leaning towards women)

education: high school graduate

occupation: comic store employee

height: 6'0

hair: super red

eye color: green

tattoos/piercings: n/a

markings: bunch of freckles

mother: marie sandler

father: asher cullen

siblings: n/a

pets: bertha the tarantula

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: faithful, mellow, considerate, optimistic, adaptable

negative traits: constrained, awkward, passive, naive, distracted

fears: bela coming back, losing winnie

likes: pizza, batman, winnie, being able to be himself, nighttime

dislikes: arguing, twilight, assumptions, feeling like he doesn't fit in, people killing spiders

hobbies: chilling, watching old batman movies, following winnie everywhere

aesthetics: jumping on mattresses, holding hands, superhero band-aids on skinned knees, dress up masks, reading the same book over and over, keeping letters full of feelings under lock and key, ginger curls, cozy hoodies, blackout curtains, moonlight and lampposts reflecting in green eyes, shuffling feet on dark sidewalks, great danes that think they're chihuahua sized

HEADCANONS.

dennis hasn't had the easiest time navigating life, never really feeling like he fit in neither here nor there. the humans that found out about him thought he was too much of a monster, and the monster side of his family didn't think he was enough of one.

for most of his life he felt like he was playing a role; trying not to act too out of pocket, trying to not talk about spooky things and keep a normal sleep schedule when he was with his maternal family, trying to follow a blood-based diet around the paternal side. his fangs came in late, he was always exhausted at school and wincing at the sunlight, watering half of himself down for the comfort of others. it just wasn't easy.

but dennis was proud of what he was. to know the good and the bad of both sides. if he could trade his humanity or his vampirism there was never a point in his life where he would have signed up for that; it made him who he was, and he liked who he was. even if other people had trouble accepting him.

he loathes twilight, the horrible acting, the unhinged lore, the do you sparkle? jokes from his mother's side of the family and the fact that out of all the last names stephenie meyer could have chosen... she went with his. the irony. he was a cullen first! he should at least get some royalties or something...

he does not sparkle... nor does he wither up and die. but he's definitely more nocturnal than not and would much rather wake up as the moon is coming out.

batman is his favorite hero and he's a bit of a fan boy even now. that's what led him to getting his job at the comic book store.

he sees mavis almost like an older sister despite her being younger than him on paper.

dennis drinks as little blood as he can get by with, much preferring the taste of guacamole to iron. for the first years of his life he was fed an almost completely human diet which is likely why he never developed much craving for blood.

arguing kicks in a sort of fight or flight response in dennis. his whole life his family has argued over him, what he should do, how he should act, which side he should spend more time with, so when he hears people getting heated (even if it isn't directed at him or about him at all) he sort of just shuts down on the spot or leaves if possible.

he loves spiders and has a pet tarantula named bertha.

he is a little traumatized and sure bela will come back for him. he has nightmares often... but he's not sure what he's supposed to do when he does. he's been trying to work out in secret but he knows his clumsiness will probably be the death of him one day.

he is also a little too trusting, gullible, assumes everyone else has a pure heart as well even though he has been shown time and time again that is not true!

think himbo but… less stupid.

overall he keeps an optimistic outlook on life, but every now and then it just kind of gets to him, how alienated he feels despite knowing he is loved.

[aquoteamusetheword]

The Bear

“If anything goes bad, I did it. If anything goes semi-good, we did it. If anything goes really good, then you did it. That's all it takes to get people to win football games for you.” ~ Bear Bryant

 January 26th 1983

 I remember sitting in class at Central High School, Tuscaloosa, AL. When over the public address system Dr. Terrel Tenny announced that Coach Bear Bryant had passed away. He also informed us that the funeral was on a school day and would not be an excused absence.

 When the day of the funeral arrived maybe 30% (of over 1000) students showed up for school! I will never forget watching the funeral procession go by on University Boulevard sitting on my friend Jay Lowery's canary yellow Nova with  Stephen J Croft and Tim Goode in tow.

 I was 18 and Coach Bryant was always a staple in my life. In my earliest memories it was evident… my Paw Paw respected him, and my Grandaddy worshipped him. I was ecstatic when we moved to Tuscaloosa the summer of my 4th grade year. Would I actually get to meet Coach Bryant?

 I attended Verner elementary in the shadow of Denny stadium. One day the university arranged for us to walk across the street and actually play football on the field. To our surprise out of a tunnel came Coach Bryant! He came over and rustled our hair and asked in his patented gravel… “Are you gonna play ball at Alabama son?” It was a day to remember.

Later on, I had made friends in the neighborhood next to mine, Indian Hills. My pal Stephen asked me to come over and play football in his grandpa’s front yard. Imagine my wonder when his grandpa arrived home from work… it was Coach Bryant! The exact same interchange happened, the same hair rustling, the same question asked.

Hard to believe it has been 40 years since we lost such a mountain of a man. He was my Paul Bunyan, Elvis, Ron Reagan, and grandpa all rolled up in one. Six National Championships, 14 SEC Championships, One little country boy’s heart.

RIP Coach Bryant.

 The prayer Coach carried in his pocket every day:

“This is the beginning of a new day. God has given me this day to use as I will. I can waste it or use it for good. What I do today is very important because I am exchanging a day of my life for it. When tomorrow comes, this day will be gone forever, leaving something in its place I have traded for it. I want it to be gain, not loss — good, not evil. Success, not failure in order that I shall not forget the price I paid for it. Never be too proud to get down on your knees and pray.”

[blue-sterling0357]

More black butler x Balance: unlimited incorrect quotes (FT. me:- Millie)

Millie: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity? Sebastian: *turning to Grell* How tall are you?

---------

Millie, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Ciel: You did WHAT– Sebastian: William Snakepeare

---------

Daisuke: Hey, you want some leftovers? Millie: What's that? Daisuke: You've never had leftovers??? Millie: No, because I'm not a quitter.

---------

Sebastian: *Gets down on one knee* Millie: Oh my god, it’s finally happening. Sebastian: *Falls over* Millie: The poison is kicking in.

---------

Daisuke: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Haru: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Daisuke: I’m leaving you and I’M TAKING MILLIE WITH ME Suzue, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

---------

Haru: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Daisuke: >:O language Ciel: Yeah watch your fucking language Suzue: OKAY WHO TAUGHT CIEL THE FUCK WORD? Sebastian: 'The fuck word'. Millie: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Ciel: Oh my god she censored it Sebastian: Say fuck, Millie. Ciel: Do it, Millie. Say fuck.

---------

Haru: That bastard isn’t answering his phone Millie: I’ll call Haru: Suzue and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi- Daisuke: Hello?

---------

Haru: How did none of you hear what I just said? Suzue: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours. Millie: I got distracted about halfway through. Daisuke: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

---------

Suzue: Is stabbing someone immoral? Millie: Not if they consent to it. Daisuke: Depends who you’re stabbing. Haru: YES?!?

---------

Sebastian: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds. Millie: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!? :D Sebastian: No! Four to five seconds! Millie: Too late!!! >:)

---------

Sebastian: Can you keep a secret? Millie: Do you know anything about my life? Sebastian: No I do not. Good point.

---------

Suzue: Where's Millie, Daisuke, and Sebastian? Ciel: They're playing hide and seek. Suzue: Where? Ciel: I don't think you get how this game works.

---------

Suzue: Favorite horror movie? Millie: It Daisuke: Saw Sebastian: Annabelle Ciel: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

---------

Suzue: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses. Millie: This knife is actually a magic wand. Daisuke: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel. Sebastian: *cocks gun* Magic missile. Ciel: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

---------

Suzue: Bye Millie! Bye Daisuke! Bye Sebastian! Bye Ciel! Bye Millie! Daisuke: You said ‘bye Millie’ twice. Suzue: I like Millie.

---------

Suzue: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Millie: Several traffic violations. Daisuke: Three counts of resisting arrest. Sebastian: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Ciel: Also, that’s not our car.

---------

Suzue: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Millie: 'Prettiest Smile' Daisuke: 'Nicest Personality' Ciel: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Sebastian: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

--------

Ciel: Nothing in life is free. Suzue: Love is free! Daisuke: Adventure is free. Sebastian: Knowledge is free. Millie: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

---------

Sebastian: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait. Millie: You and me!!! Sebastian, tearing up: Okay

---------

Sebastian: This is such a bad idea. Millie: Then why are you coming along? Sebastian: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

---------

Sebastian: You love me, right, Millie? Millie: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

---------

Sebastian: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Millie: You're like 100+ years old Sebastian: I MIGHT DIE AT 3,000!

---------

Sebastian: You're 'the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans', what does that mean? Millie: It means i was second worst thing to happen to those orphans. Sebastian: but what’s the first worst thing? *Awkward pause* Millie: Sebastian, they...they weren’t always orphans. Sebastian: ...

---------

Sebastian: You're right. Millie: That's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

---------

Ciel: I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so lets go for 12 more just incase. Millie: Ciel, that's a coma. Ciel: Sounds festive.

---------

Ciel: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Millie: I think you mean cards. Ciel, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

---------

Daisuke: What time is it? Suzue: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out Suzue: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune* Millie: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING Suzue: It’s 2 am

---------

Sebastian: I know you snuck out last night, Ciel. Millie: Play dumb! Ciel: Who's Ciel? Millie: NOT THAT DUMB!!!

---------

Sebastian: While I’m gone, Ciel, you’re in charge. Ciel: Yes!!! Sebastian, whispering: Millie, you’re secretly in charge. Millie: Obviously.

---------

*Sebastian and Ciel sitting in jail together* Ciel: So who should we call? Sebastian: I’d call Millie, but I feel safer in jail

---------

Sebastian: What do you think Millie will do for a distraction? Ciel: They’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do. *Building explodes and several car alarms go off* Ciel: ... or they could do that.

---------

Sebastian: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death? Millie: How am I supposed to know? Ciel: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult. Millie: *sighs* Millie: You wouldn't be trapped.

---------

Sebastian: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container. Millie: The cow??? Sebastian: What? Ciel: Lady Millie, W H Y?

---------

Sebastian: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Millie's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get her out...

---------

Ciel: We need to get through this locked door. Daisuke, give me your credit card. Daisuke: Here. Ciel, pocketing it: Thanks. Millie, kick down the door.

---------

Daisuke: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth? Millie: You’re a hazard to society Suzue: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

---------

Daisuke: Why are you on the floor? Suzue: I'm depressed. Suzue: Also I was stabbed, can you get Millie, please.

---------

Daisuke: I trust Suzue. Millie: You think she knows what she's doing? Daisuke: I wouldn't go that far.

-----------------------

The emotionless club quotes

------------------------

Daisuke, banging on the door: Claude! Open up! Claude: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Millie: No, he meant- Sebastian: Let him finish.

---------

Daisuke, about Claude: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group. Millie: Are we stealing them? Sebastian: New or used? Daisuke: Wonderful responses, both of you.

---------

Daisuke: I think we're missing something. Claude: Teamwork? Millie: Cohesion? Sebastian: A general sense of what we’re doing?

---------

Daisuke: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys. Claude: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap! Millie: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!! Sebastian: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting. Daisuke: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

---------

Daisuke: Care for another sundae, weenie? Claude: I am not a weenie! Millie: Relax, you’re among friends. *raises their drink* Claude: My friends don’t hang out at Weenie Hut Jr’s. Sebastian: You tell ‘em, Claude! *sips their drink* Claude: Sebastian, what’re you doing here? Sebastian: I’m always here on Double Weenie Wednesdays.

---------

Daisuke: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three- Daisuke and Millie, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks! Sebastian: Our turn, Claude! One, two, three- vanilla! Claude, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake?

---------

Daisuke, setting down a card: Ace of spades Claude, pulling out an Uno card: +4 Millie, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you Sebastian, trembling: What are we playing

---------

Daisuke: *Gently taps table* Claude: *Taps back* Millie: What are they doing? Sebastian: Morse code. Daisuke: *Aggressively taps table* Claude: *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

---------

Daisuke: Can I be frank with you guys? Claude: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help. Millie: Can I still be Millie? Sebastian: Shh, let Frank speak.

---------

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. Daisuke: Shit. Claude: Wait, three? Cop: Yeah? Millie: OH MY GOD SEBASTIAN FELL OFF!!!

---------

Daisuke: Why is Claude so sad? Millie: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes Daisuke: And...? Daisuke: He got Sebastian.

[technowoah]

Can I request a prompt #37 with Karl Jacobs? I love your writing btw :)

Ring(s)

The four times Karl tried to propose and the one time he actually did.

- Karl Jacobs x gen!neutral reader!

- Prompts: 37) "Are you proposing?!"

⚠︎ swearing, fluff, angst if you squint and a rushed ending. I didn't proofread either

an// TYSM FOR LIKING MY WORK 😭ALSO Thanks for requesting and sorry this came out so late! Hope you enjoy :)

To say that Karl loved you was an understatement. He adored you and practically worshipped the ground you stood on. He is so respectful, which is a major upgrade from your other boyfriends, and loves you for who you are. You didn't have to put on a facadè at all during the 3 years you two have dated.

This love wasn't a one way thing. You loved him just as much, or even more, than he did. Everything he did you supported, you were always cheering him on from wherever you were. You were here for the good and the bad, and he was too. You two never shyed away from admiting your love and support. You could write a essay on each thing you love about Karl.

The idea of marriage came up during a late night dinner at Denny's. The idea came so naturally to you, so it surprised Karl that you didn't tense up. Karl was tense when bringing up the topic of marriage, so when you said "Yeah, I wanna get married to you one day." so casually it caught him off gaurd.

You two had already talked about marriage time and time again, but this time Karl wanted to take the initiative. He was ready to get married and since the marriage talk was just a few months ago it was fresh in his mind. Karl could vividly imagine you walking down the aisle towards him looking angelic. He could see everything now and he wanted those daydreams to become a reality. He wanted to physically feel your hands against his as you two say "I do" to one another.

He couldn't stop thinking about settling down in a nice house with you. Karl already bought a ring for you and always has it with him. Now he justs needs to figure out how to tell you.

1st proposal: Fireworks

"THIS IS THE MOST EXPENSIVE FIREWORK IN THE ENTIRE WORLD-"

You blocked out Jimmy's yelling as you sat in a lawn chair in the middle of the woods. Karl had invited you to a MrBeast video shoot because he thought it would be a great early 4th of July. It was late at night and slightly cool outside, so you were wearing a MrBeast hoodie Karl was wearing earlier. You zoned out as the boys talked to the camera over and over again, taking multiple shots.

You found yourself looking at Karl most of the time you sat there and you always caught his gaze towards you. Every time you caught him looking at you, you sent him a small wave or blow him a kiss and every time he sent a shy wave back or sent a more exaggerated kiss back.

During halfway through the shooting you begrudgingly had to move your lawn chair further and further away from your original spot. Karl always checked up on you before and after each firework set were blown up. He has been acting fidgety around you and you didnt know why. When you tried to confront him about it he would always turn away and go back to the boys without a glance back, and his hands in his pockets.

You loved watching the guys play with so many different types of fireworks, this was a great 4th of July for you, but you wished that Karl was sitting next to you feeling the bliss that you were.

You were currently sitting behind bulletproof glass while the guys had a control panel on their lap. Karl kept sending glances towards you and you looked at him and smiled whishing he was next to you and not over by the guys. You knew it was selfish, but he invited you here.

Karl kept bouncing his leg, he kept his hand in his pocket which held the ring. He kept sending glances towards you, knowing he should be on one knee right about now. Jimmy was about to fire off the last rocket of the night and Karl couldn't seem to go over and ask you to marry him. He knew he was hilding himself back which made him hate himself. You deserved a good night and he hoped you enjoyed the fireworks, but he knew on the ride back he would have to apologize.

He stayed with the boys as they went to go see the fireworks they would be setting off soon. Once they came back they were all about to press the button to set off the expensive fireworks they counted down from 5 and he looked towards you. You were standing up with your arms crossed, hopefully shielding yourself from the cold, and looking towards the fireworks that were going to burst. They finally pressed the button the fireworks went off.

Each burst of light in the air sent a glow onto your smiling face. Karl sent a somber glace and marveled in how the explosion of the fireworks sent a beautiful glow around you.

This wasnt the right time. Next time.

2nd proposal: Donuts

"Im sorry for last night." Karl apologized as you both took a seat at a booth by the window at the small coffee and donut shop.

This was supposed to be an apology for the last failed proposal. Instead of spending time with you, he kept his distance which was the opposite of what he really wanted to do. This was a way to spend much needed time with eachother, but this was also another attempt at a proposal.

Karl wanted to hide the ring in the middle of a donut so when you inevitably look at it when he hands it to you, you'll see the ring and then he'll propose right there. To him it seemed flawless.

You never wanted a huge proposal. You didnt want that much attention on you when your future significant other would propose. Something simple would be the ideal proposal and you've hinted that many times to Karl and right now he was listening. There were only two other couples in the small diner because others were picking up donuts and leaving. If he decided to get down on one knee it would cause a scene.

You stayed silent for a moment looking at Karl before deciding to speak.

"It's no problem. Please dont stress out about it." You smiled softly and he smiled back at you. "I mean the fireworks were beautiful, but you all were screaming too much."

You both laughed as you both recalled that night in the desert.

"Yeah I just didn't..I didn't really talk to you all night. I feel bad." Karl said fiddling with his hands.

"Its in the past Karl. And I still know you love me." You reached out to grab both of his hands and hold his cool hands in yours.

"I do love you." He whispered for only you to hear leaving both of you smiling ear to ear.

"What kind of donuts you want?" Karl asked looking into your eyes carefully.

You thought about it for a while before speaking up. "I'll keep it simple. Icing with sprinkles. Surprise me with the icing color!" You exclaimed while letting go of his hands for a second.

Once you two let go of eachothers hands he immediately went to his pocket and played with the velvet box. He nodded his head and without a word he stood up to meet the cashier behind the display box of donuts. He ordered only one donut as you said with orange icing this time.

He paid for the food and stayed at the counter where he paid. Karl looked back to see if you were paying attention to him only to see you looking out the window at the people passing by. Karl smiled at the sight knowing he really wants to marry you one day and then he looked down at the glistening ring inside of the box.

Karl was supposed to put the ring in the middle of the donut that was laying alone on a napkin on the counter. He started to think of the possibilities of what could happen. What if you didn't see the ring and crumble the ring with the napkin and throw it away? What if you accidentally put the ring in your mouth? What if you weren't hungry anymore?

He looked over again to where you were looking at him giving him the same smile you gave during the fireworks. Karl sighed and once again closed the box with the ring. He was a coward and he knew that.

Karl picked up the donut from the counter and made his way over to you.

"Here's your donut with sprinkles and orange icing!" Karl exclaimed putting emphasis on the 'orange' part.

"Thanks babe!" You smiled as he sat down across from you. "Wait, you didn't get anything for yourself?"

Karl sighed again for what seemed like the 100th time today and put on a smile. "I ended up not being as hungry as I thought I was."

"Well I could always share!" You started to eat your donut as Karl ended up looking outside.

Unbeknownst to you he was thinking of another way to propose without himself getting in his own head.

He'll find a time.

3rd proposal: Livestream

"Chat! As you can see I have my significant other here with me!" Karl exclaimed to his Twitch following.

You were sat next to him in another one of his office chairs with a blanket across your lap. You loved to join Karl's streams, the last couple of time you two played minecraft, gang beats, played on the nitendo switch for a while, but this time he didn't tell you what games you two would be playing. Karl just told you to come over tonight and ended up asking to join him for a stream last minute.

Now you are here next to him as Karl glows with excitement as he streams to his growing followers. You loved how he interacted with his fans and had a genuine connection with them, but sometimes that strong connection can, and has led to some nights where you had to stay the night and comfort him from his inner demons and the internet. Those nights made you love him even more, the vulnerability he gave to you made you comfortable with him.

It seems like the more time you spend eith him the more you want to officially get married. You didn't want to rush him because you soon figured out for yourself that there is no rush to express your love, which you two do everyday day. You two can get eloped in Vegas and you'll be happy, as long as you can spend the rest of your life with the man you love.

Karl kept sending glances towards you throughout the stream hoping you were having fun with the chill, q and a stream. Again he wanted to propose to you tonight during the stream. He loved showing your relationship whenever he could and whenever you would allow him to. His community also loved you the moment you became his significant other, so hopefully this will be a beautiful moment.

You talked to his chat as he contemplated, again, about whether to propose tonight. It wasn't infront of people, it was infront of a screen and it would be on Twitter in less than a week. This would be a good moment, but then again he wanted this moment to be between you two and he couldn't find the right time nor the right "moment".

As the stream continues you ended up wrapping yourself fully in the blanket and lying your head on his shoulder. You both cuddled eachother while you two answered questions. Karl kissed the top of your head and finally collected all of his thoughts.

He didn't need to propose to officially claim his love to you. Karl knew you both loved eachother to the ends of the Earth and back. There's no need for ceremony and the one day he will propose, he know it will come naturally. There is no need to force it, and now he wont.

Only time will tell.

4th proposal: spongebob

"Are you ready, kids?

Aye, aye, Captain!

I can't hear you!

Aye, aye, captain!

Oh!"

The TV illuminated the comfortable, dark room you two were in. You were lying on the couch with Karl with the blanket you had while streaming. It was late at night after the stream and you two ended up watching re-runs of spongebob. Karl sang along to the theme song softly while you hummed along. This was the 4th episode you both watched this night and it was a great way to end the week.

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Karl asked softly with tiredness in his voice.

"Of couse. Im too tired to move, so thanks for offering." You chuckled.

"You're welcome here anytime." Karl yawned and squeezed your sides. "Do you want popcorn?"

"Hell yeah." You got off of Karl as he walked to the kitchen.

He put the bag into the microwave and leaned back onto the kitchen counter as he waited. Karl looked over to the side and saw a empty vase which was next to the velvet box he was carrying with him this whole week. He shook his head and laughed to himself before getting the popcorn out of the microwave, dumping it in a bowl and walking back to see you taking up the whole couch.

"Move over or I'll sit on you." Karl said standing above her.

"Is that a promise?" You teased.

"Okay then!" He turned around and began to slowly and dramatically fake sitting ontop of you.

You began to laugh and try to push him off of you. You successfully got him to sit down and returned to your previous position, but this time with popcorn.

"I love you, you know that?" You hummed into his chest.

"Yeah, and I love you more."

"I love you most."

"I love you mostest." Karl laughed.

"That's not a word." You smiled.

"I love you so much I made up a word for ya." Karl kissed you head and you hugged him tighter.

"You know what?" Karl chuckled. "I love you so much that I tried to propose to you 3 times this week."

Karl finished and you sat up from your spot looking surprised. Karl sat up as well thinking he made a mistake telling you. He was abkut to apologize, but you beat him to speak.

"Oh my gosh!" You exhaled.

"Look, I'm sorr-"

"Are you proposing?!" You exclaimed with a smile on your face.

"Huh-?"

Karl was surprised just like you were before. He remembered that he wanted the Maybe this was the moment he needed this week.

Karl grabbed both of your hands and caressed them both, looking into your eyes. "I was planning to all week. But now I think this is a good moment. So Y/N? Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will!" You enveloped him into a tight hug and peppered his face with kisses. He finally found his moment and he couldn't be happier.

"You said you tried to propose three other times?" You questioned. "When was that?"

"Its a long story."

[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

a/n: oof okay hello! this is a little different, i guess? but im very excited to share this with you! don’t ask me how i got the idea for this, no clue but it was stuck in my head for days before i finally gave in and started writing it. please share your thoughts and comments on it, i would love to read them!! hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

warning: violence, talks of drugs, murder, guns, i really lost track of it lol

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

The man in the handcuffs growls in pain again, but you just yank him forward, not in the mood to deal with a whining girl trapped in a six feet tall disgusting looking, oily-faced bald man in his forties.

“Y/N! What do we got today?” Jeremy greets you at the front desk, thumbs hooked into his belt as he watches you tug the guy into the hall of the station, pushing him down to the nearest seat as you step to Jeremy who is already handing you the paperwork.

“Dennis Delgado. Took me a few days to find him, but he couldn’t hide forever,” you grin proudly as you grab a pen and start filling the papers out.

Jeremy walks over to Dennis who just looks up at the officer in disgust. It’s not enough that he is a child molester disgusting prick, he is racist on top of everything and now Jeremy is enjoying having the higher ground, Dennis trapped in his handcuffs while Jeremy will be the one to get him behind bars for a long time.

“Nice one. We’ll have a lot of fun with this one,” Jeremy chuckles. “Want me to ring up your brother?”

“Is he in? Would love to have a word with him,” you nod smiling. When you’re done with the papers you hand them over to Stella, the receptionist who gets to work with them right away so you can get your money.

“Sure, I’ll get him for you on my way,” Jeremy nods, grabbing Dennis by his arm, pulling him along on his way to the elevators. “Come on you scumbag, you have a cell waiting with your name on it.”

The two of them disappear and you get into a little chit-chat with Stella while she is finishing up the paperwork. Leaning against the counter you look around, officers come and go in the hall, all of them dressed in their uniform and for a moment you picture yourself wearing the same outfit. At one point in your life it seemed to be part of your future, but now it would be the most ridiculous sight. Y/N, the best bounty hunter in the region in a police uniform? That’s not happening.

The elevator dings and your brother, Robert walks out. He on the other hand, made this vision happen. He has been an officer for about ten years now and though at first he was outraged that you chose the not so gracious lifestyle of a bounty hunter, but you soon became his unofficial partner, handing him over a wanted person every few days, making his work easier. Everyone at the station knows that Robert is the one who plays by the rules, doing everything according to the handbook, the perfect officer, always working to keep up the peace in town while you are… Well, you are a rebel. You could never play by the rules, always sneaking ways to do things according to your desires. You never liked if someone wanted to tell you what to do and how to do it, you are not a team player or either one that can easily managed by higher forces. It didn’t take long for you to realize your nature will never let you be an officer so you chose the other path that’s somewhere near joining the police, but still playing by your own rules.

Being a female bounty hunter wasn’t the easiest when you started off at the young age of seventeen. In desperate need of the extra money after the tragic passing of both your parents, the two of you had to get along on Robert’s slim, beginner paycheck. He was only twenty-three, started working at the station just a year prior, you knew you had to help him out. He kept bringing up cases, worked on them through the nights and when he passed you on the couch from exhaustion, you sneaked your way into the dining room and looked for easy targets. Speeding tickets, light drug trafficking, whatever you could deal with as a high schooler.

Robert hated the idea of you dealing with wanted people, you had endless fights about it, but you were too stubborn to stop and besides, you liked the adrenaline rush you got whenever you caught another one and brought them back to the station. Loved the stunned and shocked looks on the older officers when you managed to catch a bigger fish. It took Robert a few years to come to peace with your choice of lifestyle and now he doesn’t even try to talk you down. Instead, he keeps bringing you cases that pay well and he knows you’d like them.

“Who did you catch this time?” he grins at you, walking up to you and he envelopes you in a short hug.

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

“Poor Dennis, he’ll have a rough evening,” Robert chuckles. “Did you get your money?”

“Stella is already working on it,” you nod towards the lady behind you.

“Oh, I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Stella pushes herself back from her desk and walks over to you with an envelope filled with your reward.

“Amazing, thank you, Stella,” you grin at her happily. Dennis was worth a little more than the usual, you are well covered for the rest of the month thanks to him.

“Do you have something coming next?” Robert asks, hands on his hips as he watches you put the money away into your backpack.

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

“An old friend,” he nods with a small smile. He reaches behind the counter and grabs a flyer, handing it over to you, a familiar face staring back at you from the photo this time.

Harry Styles is a name you’ve heard plenty of times and you know him well by now. You actually went to high school with him, you were just never in the same group. He was labeled as troubled all through his teenage years, his parents were brutally killed when he was just a kid, he was tossed around from one foster family to the other, moving around town every few months. It was no surprised when he got into some darker circles, he almost got kicked out of school right before graduation but somehow managed to stick around to get his diploma at the end.

You have actually handed him in a few times before. Never for anything bigger than drug trafficking or robbing smaller shops downtown, Harry is actually not as bad as people tend to portray him to be, he was just not blessed with the best background as most people. He is a smart guy and would never hurt anyone for real, this is why you are now staring down at his flyer shocked.

He is wanted for the murder of a local man who was found dead a few days ago in his home, Harry’s hair was found near the body with no other evidence.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask Robert with a concerned look. This doesn’t feel right. Not that you know Harry that well, but it’s very unlike him.

“Very much. His hair was the only thing we found near the body of Dave RIchards so evidently, he is our number one suspect.”

“I don’t know, this doesn’t sound right,” you think to yourself, staring down at the mug shot of him that was taken the last time you brought him in for selling weed to underage kids. You remember it exactly, because bringing Harry in is always… fun, if you could say that.

That last time, he was already expecting you, waiting around in his usual motel room that is somewhat considered as his home.

“My Y/N! You arrived earlier than I expected!” he greeted you when you kicked his door in. He was sitting in the middle of the double bed, rolling a joint as always, not a care in the world about your arrival.

“You knew I was coming?” you cocked your head to the side walking in and stopping at the end of the bed, watching him finish the joint and simply light it before taking a big puff.

“Of course. I was informed I’m on your list again, just thought you’d give me a few more hours, but it’s alright.” He waved around carelessly before holding out the joint in your way, offering you to try it.

“No thanks, I don’t trust your sketchy stuff.”

“That hurt!” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his tattooed chest that was partially on display since his shirts are never buttoned all the way up.

You brought him in that day, stopping for McDonald’s on your way to the station before handing him over to Robert. He was actually a great guy, nice sense of humor and good looks, you never thought otherwise, he was just moving around in different circles than you so you were left with the few jokes he always cracked when you took him in every few months.

“Well, it’s not your job to question his innocence. Want to take the job or not?” Robert asks you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll find him,” you nod and fold the flyer, sliding it into your back pocket.

Normally, you take the rest of the day for yourself after turning someone in, but this situation with Harry just bugs you way more than to just go home and pretend like it’s not all you can think about. Harry is not a murderer, he would never randomly kill a man, he is not a psycho, just a guy with a rough background and some poor life decisions.

You know the route to the motel like the back of your hand. Arriving to the dodgy parking lot you park your car in the far end before taking one last look at the flyer. Then you push it into your backpack and get out, heading to Harry’s room with firm steps. You see no lights on, the door is closed and you almost don’t even get closer, thinking he is not here when you see someone move around inside.

You are almost at the door when a hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your body, pulling you back forcefully. It takes you a moment to recover from the shock as you are yanked backwards, but as you are being dragged towards the alleyway next to the motel you elbow your attacker in the stomach before kicking them in the knees. The hands fall from around you and turning around you pull out your pocket knife, ready to cut throats right away, but you are shocked to see Harry hunched over, groaning in pain as he holds his arm to his stomach.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” he growls, his chocolate curls falling forward, they’ve definitely gotten longer since the last time you saw him, he could easily put them up into a bun now. “What was that for?” he whispers in disbelief, his green eyes meeting yours in a scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean? You attacked me!”

“I didn’t attack you, I was trying to fucking save you!”

“From what?!”

“From the fucking asshole in my room who is four times bigger than you and would have probably shot you the moment you kicked my door in like you always fucking do!”

It’s just now processing in you that if Harry is here, the person you saw in the room can’t be him and he surely looked bulky. Harry runs his hand through his hair, straightening up from his hunched position before he sighs tiredly. He looks… worn-out, even more than he usually does. The dark circles under his eyes and beat-up knuckles are new, he usually looks fine despite everything that goes on in his life, but this is a version of him you haven’t seen. He has definitely been through some shit lately.

“What are you doin—“

“No time for questions now, we have to get out of here,” he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the alleyway to another parking lot on the other side of the motel. You spot his old jeep right away, but you yank your hand out of his hold, stopping in your tracks.

“Wait, my car is there!”

“We’ll come back for that later, but they can’t find you here with me or they’ll be after you as well,” he explains, grabbing your hand again as he pulls you towards the car and this time you follow him blindly.

You get into his jeep without even questioning it, not even caring that he is a man who is currently wanted for murder. Your instinct is telling you that you’re completely fine with him and you believe it. The two of you head out of town, taking the route to the next town nearby, but he takes a turn to the left, the jeep rolling onto a dirty road leading along fields filled with wildflowers. You have a guess where you’re going, there are some abandoned cabins near the woods that used to function as vacation homes, but they were slowly left to stand empty for eternity when a luxury resort was built on the other side of the woods.

“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” you ask him calmly, turning to look at him. He has one hand on the wheel, while his other elbow is resting on the armrest, fingers tapping on his chapped, pink lips.

“I’m in… deep shit, Y/N,” he admits with a sigh, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“No shit, you killed someone?”

“I didn’t,” he states, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to emphasize his truth. “It was a fucking set up and now they are after me every way possible.”

“Who is? And what did you do to get into so much trouble?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we arrive, okay?”

You sit in silence for the rest of the ride until you finally arrive to the cabins. You follow Harry inside one of them and it seems like he has set his base up here a few days ago. There’s a double bed with blankets thrown over it and a few mismatched pillows, a sports bag with his clothes and a few grocery bags on the dusty kitchen counter, candles everywhere since there’s probably no power in the cabin. You wonder how long he has been camping out here.

“About a week ago I got a visit from Hugo McKain, you’ve heard about him?” he asks as he grabs a bottled water from one of the grocery bags and fills up two plastic cups, handing you one of them.

“Sure. I’ve heard that… he is a big fish,” you nod.

“Yeah. He wanted me to work for him, but I sincerely rejected the offer, however it didn’t sit well with him. He threatened me that if I’m not selling his stuff, then I won’t sell anyone else’s stuff,” he explains, walking over to the bed and he sits at the edge, staring at the cup in his hands. “He gave me another day to change my mind, but I said that I don’t want to get involved with any of the heavy shit he deals with. I was hoping he would just willing to forget about it, but apparently, he is not the kind to just let shit go,” he chuckles bitterly. “A few days ago he sent two of his men after me, but I was able to run away. I was ready to pack my shit up and just leave the state forever, but then the fucking asshole framed me for the murder of that guy. A friend called me to let me know that I’m the only suspect in the case and that my face has been sent out already everywhere in the state. Hugo made it impossible for me to leave, I would be caught the moment I stop to pump fucking gas in my car,” he growls in annoyance. “So it’s a whole shit show, the police and Hugo are after me and I’m fucking stuck here.”

You stand there at a complete loss of words, because though you have no evidence if he is telling you the truth, you just know he is and the situation is fucking miserable. Harry drinks his water and throws the cup into a plastic bag that serves as a trashcan, his fingers running through his hair nervously.

“Do you know who killed the guy?” you speak up after some silence.

“Yeah, one of his men called Axel, he is a proper idiot, I’m actually surprised he didn’t leave his DNA back, just mine,” Harry scoffs.

“If you know they are after you, what were you doing at the motel?” you ask, leaning against the wall, curiously eyeing him as he glances up at you.

“Knew you’d come after me, didn’t want them to pull you into this mess too.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words. He went back because of you? Harry notices your surprise, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.

“What? Couldn’t let them lay a finger on my Y/N, right?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He has always been so flirty with you since day one, always trying to pull your leg, chatting your ears off in hopes that he can finally drag you to bed one day. But you never give in, it all stays just some empty flirting and a playful banter.

“So what are you going to do now?” you ask clearing your throat. There’s just always been something in the way he calls you his Y/N that makes you a tad bit nervous.

“That’s an excellent question to which… I have no answer,” he truthfully admits.

“You can’t hide here forever.”

“You tryna’ lure me into going to the station with you?” he asks with a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t cuffed me yet. You love that stuff, don’t you?” Harry stands from the bed and strides over to you, the height difference between the two of you forcing you to tilt your head up a little as he smirks down at you, enjoying that he has successfully made you blush. “Question is, have you been the one in the cuffs?”

You part your lips with the intention of answering, but nothing comes out. Harry smirks down at you, so full of himself before stepping away.

“Anyway, I think I’m just gonna lay low here for a while and then hopefully I’ll be able to sneak out of town at one point.”

“You wanna stay here?” you ask looking around. The place is fine for just a few nomad days, but staying here for more seems impossible. There’s no electricity, probably no water, some of the windows are broken in, the temperature must drop drastically in the nights so close to the woods.

“Not that I have any other choices,” he huffs, opening a bag of chips from the groceries.

“Don’t you have any friends who can share their couch with you for a while?”

“You think anyone would want to hide a dude who is wanted for murder and who is also in trouble with Hugo McKain? Baby, even if any of my friends were willing to help, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to pull them into my shit. Besides, Hugo is probably already keeping tabs of all my friends, he has the connections to know everything about me.”

“And what about me?” you suddenly ask. Harry freezes, eyes flickering at you in confusion.

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

Now it’s his turn to rock a stunned expression, eyebrows shooting up as he stares back at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but truth is neither did you. However it doesn’t take him long to turn it into something entirely sexual.

“You know, if you wanted to see me in your bed, you should have just asked.”

Luckily, you don’t fall under his spell this time. Rolling your eyes you put the cup to the nearest surface and head to the door.

“Alright, changed my mind. Have fun camping out here on your own,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, but he is quick to get between you and the door, stopping you from leaving.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just not expecting you to make that offer, alright?” You take a step back, folding your arms on your chest. “Were you serious about that?”

“It seemed like an option. I doubt you’d be expected to be at my place.”

“And you’d actually let me stay there?”

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt. Until you figure out what to do.”

Harry stares at you in awe, like you just did the best thing ever for him and the thought that he never had anyone to do such favor for him is kind of heartbreaking. He might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s just something in him.

You help him pack his stuff back into the jeep, leaving the weathered cabin empty again before you head back to town. Harry drops you off a few blocks from the motel so you can walk back to your car, you glance at his door just once, it’s still closed but they could easily still be there.

Harry is already at your place when you arrive to your building, waiting around in his jeep, he has put a beanie and sunglasses on, keeping his head low. As he follows you up to your little apartment, you actually realize that Harry is about to move in with you for the upcoming days, he is going to live in your place, you’ll share your home with him. How crazy does that sound?

Unlocking the door you walk into your small apartment. It’s just the perfect size for one person, a decent kitchen with a small dining table, a living room that also functions as your study, your desk filled with folders and flyers from previous works. Then you have a little bedroom and a bathroom opening from the living room. It’s cozy and homey, but definitely not the setting you would have ever imagined Harry in.

“So, the couch is a pull out, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, make yourself… home I guess,” you tell him walking into your bedroom to get him everything he needs. However, he is following you into the room, already snooping around in your private little space.

As you grab him a blanket and pillow, you find him inspecting your clutters on top of your dresser, your jewelry, perfumes and makeup stuff is just thrown out there, and he seemingly takes an interest in your rings.

“Never seen you wear any jewelry,” he huffs as you walk up to him.

“Don’t like them on me that much,” you admit. “Here,” you give them the bedding and usher him out of the bedroom before he gets way too adventurous and starts digging into your lingerie drawers.

When the pullout is all set up and Harry has settled in a little, you are faced with the fact once again, that Harry is in your home and about to spend the upcoming days here with you, since he can’t really roam around the streets.

You make sandwiches for the two of you and sit at the small dining table, eating in silence until you speak up.

“I can ask my brother to help find the guy who did it. There has to be a way to get you out of this.”

Harry glances at you, chewing on his food before putting the sandwich down, swallowing the bite.

“Not really if they don’t find evidence.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“We?” he smirks at you playfully, earning a blush from you again. You hate the effect he has on you, he is clearly a good-looking guy, you always thought that, even in high school. Thanks to his troubled name, girls easily fall for his bad guy behavior, they just never really saw that being a so called bad guy wasn’t just about the looks, with a slightly similar background you could imagine how hard it really was for him. Though he never really let it show. He is always this whitty, cocky bastard who is ready to flirt his way into your pants whenever the opportunity is given.

“If you keep up with the teasing you’ll find yourself on the street one morning,” you warn him and he just holds his hands up with a smug grin.

“You are the boss lady here,” she chuckles softly before returning to his sandwich.

For the rest of the evening you bury yourself into some other work stuff, you always have a few smaller gigs going on that are easy money, Harry in the meanwhile makes himself comfortable on the couch, watching your tiny TV in silence, letting you do your thing. It’s nearing midnight when you wrap it up and head to have a quick shower. Standing under the hot water you take a few minutes to collect your thoughts and just simply try to get used to the thought that you are in fact hiding a man who is wanted for murder. It’s going to be some pretty interesting days you have ahead of you, that is for sure.

Putting on your oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts you leave a clean towel on the counter for Harry in case he doesn’t have one before heading out.

“Towel is on the counter. Sorry, I don’t have shower gel for men, but the soap is unscented so feel free to use,” you tell him walking out, only to find him already waiting around the door, leaning against the wall. His eyes fall down the length of your uncovered leg, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“If you’re the kind who sleeps naked, feel free to get rid of the textile.”

“Are you a naked sleeper?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can be, if you want me to be,” he grins smugly and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Good night, Harry,” you sigh walking into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you, only allowing yourself to let out a shaky sigh when you are out of his sight. Leaning against the door you hear him shuffling around until the bathroom door closes and the water starts running. You try your best to ignore the thought of Harry currently in your shower naked as you climb to bed and pull the covers over your head. You need the coverage, hopefully it’ll help you with your wandering thoughts.

“Thought you’d deliver Styles by now,” Robert teases you when he meets you at the station the next day. You left Harry at your place, sincerely asking not to trash your home while you’re away and headed to the police station in hopes that your brother might be able to help him out.

“Uh, no. But actually, he is the reason why I’m here,” you tell him with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Can we please talk in your office?” you ask and he nods, leading you up to his office.

Once the two of you are settled and secluded from the rest of the officers, you just decide to start right in the middle and not waste your time beating around the bush.

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

Robert gives you a surprised look as he leans back in his seat on the other side of his desk. He thinks about your words furrowing his eyebrows before scratching his neck.

“How… do you know that?”

“I just know. He is being framed by Hugo McKain, it was one of his men who killed the guy, not Harry.”

“I have a feeling that your source about this was none other than Harry himself.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, because of course he would try to defend himself!”

“Harry is not a murderer, Robert,” you snap. “He always owns up to his mistakes and he would never do anything to hurt others. Yes, he is troubled and did a lot of illegal shit in his life, but never anything that could hurt others. He became a target because he didn’t want to join Hugo.”

Robert stares at you for a while, probably trying to figure out whether he should believe you or not. You knew he’d be skeptical, but you can only hope he trusts you enough to help you out in this one case.

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asks after a while.

“He knows the name of the guy. Axel something, can you get someone on his case? Look into the evidence more? Something might come up that could help Harry out of this mess.”

Robert’s jaw clenches as he stares back at you, contemplating his choices but something is telling you he is already in. You won him over.

“I’ll have Jake look into it, I think I know who this Axel guy is.”

“Thank you, Robert!” you cheer in excitement. Jumping from your seat you go around his desk and hug him from behind, kissing his cheek as he tries to escape your embrace. He hates it when you get all affectionate at his work, but you just had to. You head to the door to get out of his hair before he changes his mind, but he stops you before you could leave.

“Y/N, just please be careful with Styles, okay?”

“He is not as bad as people make him sound.”

“I just don’t want him to get you into trouble. There’s only so much I can do to save your ass.” “Don’t worry,” you smile at him softly. “I’ll be alright.”

The rest of the day goes by with catching some stupid guy who was wanted for trying to rob a gas station while drunk, it’s a mystery how he was able to run away, you saw the security footage, the guy was barely standing on his feet, but lucky for you, he is in the exact same state when you surprise him at a bar and bring him in.

It’s past seven when you finally get home. Keying yourself into the apartment you are met with a quite pleasant sight. Harry has pushed the pullout in to make some space in the cramped living room and as you step inside, you are met with the sight of him doing pushups in the middle of the room, no shirt on, just a pair of loose shorts, all his tattoos are on display, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, his curls are held back with a headband. When he hears you arrive, his head shoots up and smirks in your way before doing a few more and then he stops, standing up just as you shut the front door.

“Welcome home, Honey,” he winks in your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Turning my living room into your personal gym, huh?”

“I can’t just sit around all day, waiting for you to get home, can I?”

“You can always just fix up my apartment while I’m gone,” you joke chuckling. Setting your bag down on your bed you join him in the kitchen where he is sipping on some water. “Anyway, I have good news for you. My brother said he’ll have one of his guys look into the case. I’m sure he’ll check after this Axel dude you mentioned.”

“That’s great! I’ve also been asking around today, some of my friends said they will try to dig up some dirt that might help me out, but I don’t want any of them to get too deep and then have Hugo go after them too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you nod, convinced that things will turn out well. “Alright, I’ll throw something together for dinner, what—“

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already ordered, should be here soon.”

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course. I won’t just eat your fridge out, dinners are on me while I’m here,” he smiles genuinely and you’re stunned by the gesture.

Half an hour later the two of you are sitting on the living room floor, Chinese takeout boxes littering the place around you, having a full on feast because Harry didn’t go light on the order.

“So, tell me, what have you been doing since high school?” he prompts the question. “I feel like I know you but I also don’t. Don’t get me wrong, being handcuffed by you every other month is fucking hot, but I don’t know much about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” you shrug. “I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, no grandiose career.”

“But did you have any other plans before?”

“Thought about joining the police, but I was never tame enough to follow their rules.”

“Ooh, a little rebel?” he teases you and you throw a handful of napkins in his way, making him laugh.

“You can joke about it, but I’ve had my fair share of trouble as well, you are not the only one who’s been through some rough years.”

“I know that,” he nods, eyes getting serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“You know about them?” you ask in surprise. You didn’t really share it with anyone, talking about the loss of them just made it harder to deal with it and you also didn’t want everyone’s petty.

“You just know about this kind of stuff when you grow up in foster care. Though you were lucky your brother was already of age.”

“I know. I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here if I had to go into foster care.” Putting down the box from your hands you look at Harry. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“Not that it was any of your fault,” he smiles softly, but you can see the pain in his green eyes. Despite not knowing him well growing up, you always felt this weird urge to tell him how sorry you were for everything he had to deal with. He deserved a better childhood and teenage years and most importantly, respect from people. Everyone just labeled him as a lost case because of his background, but no one really tried to help him. Part of you feels guilty, because you could have helped through those years, but you were a little frightened from him as well, believing the rumors and talks about him, though now you know they were probably just stupid gossips.

Harry reaches into your box, stealing a dumpling and you snap on his hand, but he just pops it into his mouth grinning slyly.

“Hey! You have your own!” you tell him off.

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

“You are such a pest,” you roll your eyes at him as you grab your box and start eating again.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about me being here?” he asks out of nowhere, but you see through his act. It’s his sneaky way of trying to get you to say if you’re single or not, probably already knowing the answer to that, but you choose to pull his leg a little.

“He is fine. Though you might have to plug your ears in a little when he comes over,” you tell him with a straight face and see his fall, a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Wait, really? You have a boyfriend and told him about me being here?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

It’s hard not to start laughing, especially when the words process and he realizes that you are in fact taken. The flirty, teasing act is long gone, he presses his lips together nodding to himself as he continues to eat in silence.

“I’m just fucking with you, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you tell him at last, finally letting out a laugh. His eyes snap up at you and a smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he points a finger at you.

“You had me for a hot minute. Nice one.”

“Why were you so surprised when I said I have a boyfriend?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“Guess the thought was just a little weird, I’ve never seen you with a guy before.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve never been with any,” you point out, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. I never thought you are pretending to be a nun,” he snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasp, feeling like it was a subtle way to call you some sort of slut. Harry looks up at your upset expression and he immediately knows how his words were taken.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he defends himself.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I always thought a girl as pretty as you must have plenty of guys after her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at how bluntly he just called you pretty. It had a refreshing sound after all the shameless flirting he has been doing when it came to you, and your poor little heart immediately skipped a beat upon hearing his words.

“Well, I didn’t have,” you admit with a sad smile. You briefly dated a guy from another school in tenth grade, but after that, your life was just way too complicated to get involved in a relationship and you haven’t really been able to change that even years later. When you’re very keen on some intimacy you go to a nearby bar and just let whatever man to pick you up and have for the night, but that doesn’t happen too often either, because it seems useless most of the time, you can do the job yourself just fine too, you don’t need some random man to call you his babygirl when he doesn’t even know your name. Some never even bother to finish you, they pass out once they got what they wanted so you prefer being on your own.

“Fucking losers!” Harry huffs dramatically. “They have no idea what’s good.”

“You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better,” you roll your eyes at him, but you can feel yourself blushing.

“I’m not, I was always crushing on you a little in high school, if I’m being honest,” he admits truthfully, managing to surprise you once again.

“For real?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning his focus back to his food as he continues to talk. “Even thought about asking you out to prom one time. But I figured you might not even know who I am.”

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

“Are you telling me off for being humble?” he asks grinning. “Okay, let me rephrase it. I didn’t know if you wanted anything to do with me after hearing stuff about me, so I just dodged the idea.”

You chew on his words a little before looking up at him, eyes meeting his green irises, though you are usually not one to get in on the flirting, now you just feel like being a little blunt.

“Well, I always thought you were good-looking.”

“Were? Am I not good-looking anymore?” he teases with a dramatic gasp that makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, the smugness takes a bit away from it, if I’m being honest,” you tell him off making him laugh.

Once you both are well fed you clean the boxes up together, you wash the few extra plates you used while Harry dries them off and puts them away. Opening one of the cabinets he moves the door a bit, examining how it hangs a little low.

“I always forget to fix it up,” you sigh. There’s quite a few things that could use some work, but you just never get to start on them so they are always put aside.

You take your turns in the bathroom as usual and you sit at your desk a little, working on a few stuff before calling it a night. Harry is already lying in his temporary bed on the pullout, scrolling through his phone. The covers hide only half of his body, his naked, tattooed chest is on display, one of his arms is tucked under his head, the muscles on his arm flexing just right. He surely is a sight, you can’t deny that.

“Seeing something you like?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been caught staring. Clearing your throat you stack up the papers on your desk and head into your bedroom.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he calls after you before you click the door closed.

The next day you go with your usual routine, Robert checks in with you letting you know he already has someone on Harry’s case, so there’s not much you can do for now, only hope that something will surface that can help him out of this mess. Throughout the day you often catch yourself thinking about what Harry could be doing at home all day and you pray to all higher powers he is not currently snooping through your lingerie.

It’s a frustrating day, you couldn’t find the guy you’ve been after but you were really hoping to finally get the money for him. He is big money, but he makes you work for it certainly. When you arrive home Harry is nowhere to be seen, but then you hear the shower running so you figure he must have just been working out and is now taking a shower. Two pizza boxes are set on the dining table and you sigh in relief that you don’t have to think about cooking with him around. Going to the kitchen you are about to grab two plates when you notice that the cupboard door that’s been hanging low a little is now fixed. It’s as new as it never was since you’ve been living here and it gets you wondering if anything else has been taken care of. Going through the kitchen you start to realize that all the little things that’s been waiting to be fixed are now working perfectly: the handle on one of the drawers, the loose tap, the shelf that’s been crooked for a while, it’s all perfect now.

The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair is wet and he has a towel hanging from around his neck.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you arrive,” he breathes out throwing the towel to the back of one of the chairs around the dining table.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago. Hey, did you fix my kitchen?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Uh, yeah. Took a look at the stuff that seemed off. Also fixed the shoe rack near the door and the hangers in the bathroom.”

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Didn’t you tell me to fix the place up while being here?” he teases you with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he chuckles softly. “But I really didn’t have much to do today so I thought I might make myself useful.”

“That’s… actually very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

“So how was your day?” Harry asks as the two of you are chewing on the pizza, sitting at the dining table.

“Why are you making small talk like we’re a married couple?” you scrunch your nose, taking another bite from your slice.

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“You can, it’s just you are usually not,” you point out.

“Or you are just never around when I decide to be nice,” he grins. “You usually just burst into my place, handcuff me and then bring me in. That doesn’t give much time to be nice.”

“I wouldn’t cuff you if you didn’t try to run away the first time I wanted to bring you in,” you retort shrugging.

“Okay, first of all, I was not expecting you to just kick my door in and have a fucking knife pointed at my throat, of course I tried to escape! And second, I quite enjoy being handcuffed by you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

That smug smirk is back on his lips again and you wish you could just wipe it off sometimes. He is so full of himself!

“You are always coming with this cuffing thing. Get a hold of your kinks, Styles.”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. I bet you’d like that, if you haven’t already been cuffed in the bedroom,” he snorts, taking a big bite, the sauce dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth that he wipes with the back of his hand.

“My kinks are none of your concerns,” you sternly reply, but it just makes his grin wider.

“Oh, so you do have kinks! Tell me more about them!”

“Well what are yours?” you retort, hoping it would shut him up, but it has the opposite effect on him. Leaning back he swallows the food in his mouth before starting the list.

“Well I do love getting handcuffed, I’m into spanking, both ways. I have a weird thing for—“

“Alright! I’ve heard enough!” you cut him off. “Stop, just… stop,” you breathe out.

“What?” Harry chuckles, clearly enjoying the situation more than you’d want him to. “Don’t tell me you’re too prude to talk about sex.”

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

“Okay, then tell me about your kinks!” he teases you some more. Snapping your eyes at him you can tell how much he is enjoying making you so uncomfortable, but you also know that he thinks he’ll just make you blush and you won’t tell him a thing. So you decide to give him his own medicine.

“I do in fact like to be handcuffed, I love a good spanking, when my ass cheeks turn red from the slaps, that makes me cum very hard. I love a good old choking and I particularly enjoy giving blowjobs because I don’t have a gagging reflex, makes men go fucking nuts when I have them down my throat to the last inch, I get off their reaction easily.”

Harry’s lips part as he stares at you with a stunned expression, he definitely did not expect that answer, or any answer at all. That face alone makes up for the slight anxiety that took over you talking about what you really enjoy in the bedroom. Your eyes wander down and a triumphant smirk tugs on your lips.

“Don’t be such a horny teenager, I can see your dick getting hard,” you tell him before flipping the pizza box closed and walking into the kitchen you put the remaining of it into the fridge.

“You are such a tease, Y/N,” he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “But it might backfire, because now I’m gonna get off thinking about spanking you,” he grins at you, but you just shrug, heading to the bathroom.

“Do whatever you want, fantasizing is free,” you tell him before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t think about him in the shower. As your hands move down your body, your fingers wander between your legs, gently playing with your clit while thinking about Harry spanking you. Knowing that he is kind of into the same things as you makes your fantasies even more vivid, but you don’t let yourself get off. You wouldn’t want him to hear you moan under the shower, he would tease you about it forever.

When you’re all done you step out of the bathroom only to get startled by Harry who is standing right at the door, wearing only his boxer briefs.

“Shit!” you gasp, snapping your hand to your chest.

“You took awfully long in there, Y/N,” he smirks at you, but you just roll your eyes at him. “If you ever need help washing you back, don’t be shy to ask me to join.”

“Keep dreaming,” you mumble under your breath as you walk past him and make your way into your bedroom.

“I already do that!” he calls after you before you shut the door closed.

Throwing yourself to your bed you take a deep breath closing your eyes. If he keeps up this act, you have no idea how you’re gonna survive having him around any longer.

Two days go by in the same manner. You spend most of the day out doing your usual stuff, you actually manage to catch another guy who was a small reward, but it’s more than nothing. Harry usually has dinner ready and waiting for you by the time you get back home. During these two days he has fixed up basically everything that wasn’t working in your apartment, freeing you from doing it yourself for probably twice as long as he did.

You sit and eat together, Harry usually tries to get under your skin with some more flirting that you return with a cold shoulder, but then, when you’re lying in the comfort of your bed or standing under the hot water in the shower, you always find your thoughts wandering off to the man on the other side of the door.

Ashamed to admit, but you’ve gotten yourself off once thinking about him. You woke up in the middle of the night from a quite hot dream that, of course, featured a shirtless Harry and you just couldn’t stop yourself from bringing you some relief. For a little while your hands weren’t yours, you imagined that Harry’s big, calloused and ring clad fingers were moving against your body and you needed every drop of self-control not to moan his name out as you came. You blame it on him being so comfortable shirtless around your place, he has been really making himself feel home. Not that you’re complaining, he is a sight for the eyes certainly, but it’s also giving you a hard time.

Robert soon asks you to swing by the station to discuss some details about Harry’s case. You can tell he couldn’t dig up anything helpful, he would have already mentioned it through the phone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything that can be useful in further investigation.

“So, I’ve caught wind of Axel Morris being involved in the death of the victim, but we haven’t been able to recover any evidence that would point towards him, unfortunately,” Robert explains as the two of you sit in his office. “Didn’t want to bring him in for questioning either because then Hugo would find out we are after him.”

“So what can be done now?”

“I’m… really not sure, Y/N. If Axel doesn’t magically confesses the murder on tape, I’m not sure I can do anything to help Styles.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you’re trying hard to think of what to do. This can’t end like this, there has to be a way out for Harry…

“Look. I know you’re trying to cook up something to help Styles, but I’m not sure I can give you much time.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a puzzled look.

“I mean that…” He glances at the door and then leans closer, speaking more quietly. “If I had a guess where he could be found, I would say he is at your place as we are speaking. I can’t let a guy walk free who is wanted for murder, Y/N. I eventually have to bring him back.”

“Alright, alright. Just give me a few more days. I’ll figure it out,” you plead, running your hand through your hair. Robert sighs, shaking his head.

“You have three days. That marks ten days since the warrant has been out. If you don’t bring me evidence by then, I’m sending the guys to your place to get him.”

“Three days, alright. I’ll… figure it out. Thanks, Robert,” you nod, leaving his office in a rush.

You have three days to find evidence against Axel and free Harry, but how do you even start? You’re good at what you do, but this is kind of out of your field and you’re not sure you can deal with it.

Walking around town you try to come up with an idea, but end up doing what you always do when you’re stuck on a case. Thanks to your work you’ve built up quite a web of connections, you always know someone who knows someone who is exactly the person you need. So sitting at a diner, munching on a late lunch you start calling your connections to see if you can dig up anything that could help.

A few hours later the situation becomes brighter and you finally have a somewhat useful plan so you head home to let Harry in on what you’ve come up with.

He is seemingly surprised when you arrive home earlier than the usual, he is sitting at the dining table, a bowl of instant noodles in front of him as he is watching some video on his phone. Like usually, he is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his tattooed abdomen on full display.

“Oh, hi! Something happened?” he asks, concern showing in his eyes as he watches you kick your shoes off and storm into your bedroom, going straight to your wardrobe to dig up one particular outfit. “Y/N?” you hear him call out for you, his voice coming from your door.

“Yes! I knew I still had it!” you cheer in triumph as you hold up the latex set that clearly leaves very little to the imagination. When Harry sees it, his eyes go wide and his imagination probably gets wild for a moment, because he clears his throat as he looks at you puzzled.

“What do you need that for?”

“It’s part of my plan that will get us evidence against Axel Morris.”

“I’m not really following, so please elaborate?”

“I talked to Robert, he said we need to get him to confess. Now, I made a few phone calls and found out that our friend, Axel is a regular at this strip club called Siren. I’ll pretend to be a dancer and wrap him around my fingers and get him to confess while recording. You said it yourself, he is a real dumbass, I’m sure I can make it work.”

Harry stares at you frozen for a long moment before he lets out a heartfelt chuckle and now you’re the one confused about what’s really going on.

“S’cute you think I’m letting you close to that man. Funny, that was a good joke. Alright, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, walking back to the dinner table, but you chase after him.

“It’s not a joke, Harry. Pretty much our only chance to get you out of this mess!”

“You are not going anywhere near that guy and that’s not up for debate.”

“Not that you can tell me what to do!” you scoff at him.

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shakes his head sitting back to the table, stirring his pasta around with the spoon.

“I certainly know, and this is pretty much your only chance to save your ass, Harry.”

“Not if it means you go near Axel, nah,” he shakes his head calmly, as if it wasn’t even an argument and he had the right to grant you permission.

“Well, I’m doing it and you can’t do anything about that. I’m going in tomorrow. I know one of the dancers, she is helping me set it all up,” you shrug, your attitude meeting his careless one, but he doesn’t like your answer, not even a bit.

“Y/N, you are not going there!” he snaps, standing up, the chair falling back from the sudden movement. “That psycho killed a man or did you forget about that?!”

“Okay, so what’s your plan to save your ass? Because there’s literally no other choice,” you retort giving him a frown as you march back to your room and Harry follows you.

“But it won’t be you dressing up as a stripper, seducing a fucking murderer to get him to confess!”

“So then what is it going to be?!” you snap at him facing him again. “Because Robert gave me three days to sort things out before he comes here and takes you in himself!”

“Then I’ll go to jail! No big deal!” he throws his hands into the air like it was just a minor inconvenience and not a case of murder that could put him behind bars forever.

“Are you fucking insane?” you laugh in disbelief. “You’re willing to lose the rest of your life for what? Nothing at all?!”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. You are not getting yourself into this mess and it’s not up for debate.”

“You hold no control over me, Harry!” you scream at him at this point, fed up with his bullshit.

You find yourself pinned against the wall in a blink of the eye, Harry is pressed up against you, hands grabbing onto your forearms as he keeps you in place firmly, one of his thighs coming between your legs as his face is dangerously close to yours now. He knocks the air out of you for a moment and you stare back at him with parted lips for just a split second before your instincts kick in.

You easily knee him in the crotch, giving you just enough opportunity to grab one of his wrists and twist it behind his back, forcing him to get on the ground, growling in pain.

“Fuck! Y/N!” he groans, snapping his other hand against the hardwood floor. You give him another squeeze as a warning before letting him go and he falls to the ground for a moment before he pushes himself up to sit on his heels.

“You still think I can’t protect myself against a man?” you sneer at him walking over to the bed to grab the outfit that was tossed to the side in the hustle.

“Shit, I think you broke my dick!” he breathes out hunching over and you just smile to yourself as you hand the outfit up to the side of your wardrobe.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re fine.”

“Don’t think so, might need a get-well kiss on it though,” he smirks through his painful expression and you roll your eyes at him. How is he still at it when you just kneeled him in his crotch? “Okay, your message came through very clear though, but I’m still not a fan of your plan,” he sighs finally standing up from the floor.

“It’s gonna be easy, I’ll get him a little drunk, offer him a private dance, make a move and get him to talk. If he really is that dumb like you said, I can easily get him to open up, just gotta make sure he is focusing on something else,” you explain gesturing towards the outfit on the hanger.

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

“This is what strippers wear, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“My problem is that it’s like… nonexistent. There’s no textile at all!” he rages, still eyeing the red latex set.

“Are you… jealous?” you ask, starting to get a feel of what’s really going on. Harry’s head snaps in your way and the look in his eyes answers your question even when he tries to hide his real reasons.

“Jealous of you becoming a stripper? I bet I can make more than you if I became one,” he scoffs smugly.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking jealous!” you laugh, enjoying this one in a million moment. “What’s next, you have feelings for me? Are you gonna confess your undying love?” you tease him.

“Okay, you had your laughs, that was enough. Excuse me if I’m looking out for you and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t get all smitten with me now. I’ve been doing just fine without you so far.”

“Yeah, how many people did you bring in for murder?” Harry questions and that leaves you without an answer. Not that you don’t know it, but because the number is exactly zero. You’ve been doing your job for quite a while and there’s been all kind of cases under your hands, but not murders. Though you are completely capable of defending yourself, you’re not sure you want to deal with monsters who took a human’s life. The only reason you took Harry’s case was because you had an inkling feeling from the very start that he did not do it.

“Just as I thought,” Harry scoffs. “Listen, if you really want to do this then I’m going with you. No way I’m gonna just sit around here and wait to see if you make it back home.”

“How do you plan on leaving the house? Someone might recognize you and then it’s game over.”

“I’ll just… disguise myself,” he shrugs. “Can’t be that hard.”

You never thought the day would come when you see Harry Styles wearing a fake mustache and a ridiculous wig, secured with a beanie to his head. The moment the two of you finish his disguise, you can’t hold your laughter back. He looks so damn ridiculous, you can barely breathe through your laughter as he checks himself out in the mirror.

“I look like a fucking pedophile,” he shakes his head chuckling as he pushes some fake hair out of his forehead. “Where the fuck did you find this wig?” he snaps at you in disbelief.

“Does it matter? You look so fucking bad!” you laugh hysterically and Harry just stands there, waiting for you to finally stop, but it seems like he is not bothered by your reaction. He probably finds it equally funny too.

It’s currently seven pm, you have to head to Siren soon to start your fake shift as a stripper and you haven’t been able to talk Harry down from following you, so there you are, getting ready to fool everyone around you. Harry with his awful disguise and you with your stripper outfit.

When you finally catch your breath you leave Harry in the living room to get ready as well. Following a heavy makeup with dark, smokey eyes, you also put on a wig, a short, red bob that’s part of the outfit. Then you squeeze yourself into the latex, the tiny top barely covering you, the skirt is not even a skirt, rather than just a belt. As an extra to the fit, you’ve put on a red corset, though it’s more so you can hide the voice recorder since the original outfit doesn’t give too many places to do that. You pair it all with fishnet tights and a pair of black, thigh-high boots. As you check yourself out in the mirror you don’t even recognize yourself. Y/N is officially gone, the girl in the boots is… Crystabel.

Opening the door you step out of your bedroom, Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, busy with his phone so at first he doesn’t even see you walk out.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, eyes still on the screen of his phone.

“I… guess?” you breathe out, feeling extremely self-conscious in this revealing set.

When Harry finally looks up his mouth drops open. He is not even trying to hide his hunger as his eyes rake down the length of your body. He takes his time to take in every inch of your exposed skin before his gaze settles on your eyes behind your long fake lashes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out and it gives you quite the confidence boost.

“You like it?” you ask, striking a pose as you push your hips to the side and place your hands on your waist.

“I-I’m… I’m fucking speechless,” he chuckles as you walk closer and grabbing the strings of his hoodie, you tug on the playfully while he is still shamelessly checking you out. “I don’t know how I could live this long without seeing you like this.”

“You are such a flirt,” you roll your eyes, but just as you are about to step away from him he grabs you by your waist and pulls you against him firmly. Your hands move to his broad shoulders right away, trying to keep your balance in his hold.

“I might be a flirt, but you are the hottest woman I’ve seen and I admit I will be fucking jealous of every man that’s gonna lay their eyes on you tonight.” His voice is low, full of lust and if it wasn’t for his funny disguise, you would have melted right into his arms in a heartbeat.

“I can’t take you seriously with this mustache on,” you chuckle softly, running your fingers over the fake facial hair, the pad of your fingers slightly touching his soft lips underneath.

“Just wait until we get back home and I get rid of it,” he smirks and winks at you, making you chuckle, but you can also feel yourself blushing at his words.

You put on a trench coat to cover the racy outfit as the two of you make your way to the club. Harry is driving, but you took your car in case someone might recognize him near the club. Arriving Harry parks at a darker corner in the parking lot and he pulls out a little box from his backpack.

“Alright, let’s wire you up, Love,” he smirks as you undo the coat and let him help you get the devices situated on you.

The voice recorder gets pushed into your stomach, hiding behind your corset. It’s thick enough that it doesn’t give away that anything is hidden under it, it’s just a little uncomfortable for you, but you are sucking it up.

“Here, put this into your ears,” Harry hands you an earpiece that you place into your right ear, hiding it with your wig. “It’s not the best quality, but you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll hear everything around you. We need a safe word if anything happens so I know I have to go inside.”

“This is starting to look like a spy movie or something,” you mumble under your breath as you start buttoning your coat again.

“Don’t turn it into a joke, Y/N. Axel might be a stupid jerk, but don’t forget he killed that man. He doesn’t care if you’re a woman or not, or if you’re a real stripper or not.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh nodding. “How about… cherry?”

“Okay. Use it if you are in trouble or someone is hurting you or anything.” You nod, fidgeting with the end of the coat, but Harry grabs your hand and makes you look at him. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want you to play the hero.”

“I won’t, calm down. I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before getting out of the car and heading to the backdoor. Glancing back one last time you see Harry standing at the hood of the car, watching you intently as you disappear from his sight.

Sienna, who is helping you tonight is already waiting for you at the backdoor. You met her a few years ago when you caught her abusive ex and took him in. She said she owed you one for freeing her from that asshole and now you are finally here to collect that favor.

“Damn, you look good!” she grins, pulling you into a short hug.

“You think it’s gonna be alright?” you ask, pulling the coat open to show her the whole outfit.

“Fucking fantastic. No men will be able to focus on anything than your boobs,” she snorts, pulling you inside.

The plan is easy. You won’t be out all night, Sienna will be your eyes and when she spots Axel arrive, that’s when you come into the picture. Sienna will escort him to a secluded area and tell him he has a free lap dance which will be, of course, performed by you. Some flirting, some seducing and hopefully Axel will be dumb enough to let a some sort of confession slip.

Sienna takes you to the changing room and you stay in the corner, trying not to be in the way as you watch the girls get ready. There are ten girls in total, five of them are dancing tonight, the other five are servers, but they still dress like dancers. They all wear equally revealing outfits, just like you and as you watch them move around so confidently, you start to get more and more nervous. What if Axel figures out you’re not a real dancer right away? Or if he notices the recorder pushed into your stomach? This plan is definitely not the safest you’ve ever come up with, and you are starting to doubt yourself now that you are so deep in it.

“Y/N?” you hear Harry’s faint voice in your ear. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out and hearing his voice calms your nerves a little.

“Everything alright?” First you nod, but then you realize he can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

“Very,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. Luckily, Harry doesn’t bring his usual cockiness out, feeling how serious the situation is.

“You can still come out and we can just go home. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to do this,” you firmly answer. “Just… talk to me a little. Please.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you about when I wanted to ask you out to prom,” you hear him start and you can’t push a smile down as you sit and wait, listening to his soothing voice. “You were wearing this pretty white sweater that day and tight jeans, you looked so fucking good, Y/N. I saw you walking to your locker and you smiled at some random guy and I was instantly jealous.”

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“O, yeah,” he chuckles. “I told you, I had a crush on you. So I thought about asking you out, wanted to just walk up to you and casually ask if you wanted to go with me. But then I just watched you and realized that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I just watched you get your books out of your locker and then you walked right past me, looked me in the eyes and I straight up felt my knees turn into jelly. Good thing I was leaning against the wall. You walked away and I never asked you out. Still regret that,” he admits and your heart flutters at his words.

As weird as it sounds, you remember that day. Especially because when your eyes met Harry’s you felt kind of the same. You felt intimidated and wondered why he was watching you so intently, but you would have never guessed he wanted to ask you out.

You see Sienna walking in, her eyes find you and you immediately know it’s show time.

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

“I would have said yes,” you tell him before you follow Sienna out and the blasting music pushes down Harry’s voice in your earpiece.

The bright lights of the back are switched to the dim, red lighting in the main bar area, a dancer is already on the stage and the place seems packed for the night as all men are hungrily watching the girl on the stage, throwing dollar bills at her shamelessly.

Sienna pulls you to the bar and leans closer to your ear so you can hear what she is saying.

“He is in one of the private rooms, told him the dance is on the house to thank him for being a regular. I asked one of the guards to stand nearby.”

“Thank you, S,” you nod at her as she squeezes your hands.

“Good luck, girl,” she smiles a little bitterly before she shows you the way to the room where Axel is currently waiting for his private dance.

As you stop at the door you take a deep breath, staring at the doorknob for a moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever is about to happen in there.

“I’m going in,” you say, partially to yourself, but mostly to Harry so he knows what’s happening though you don’t hear an answer before you open the door and step inside.

The room is mostly what you were expecting, a small stage with a rod in the middle, across that a long, plush, deep burgundy couch. The walls are black, just the red led lights illuminating the place.

And there he is. Axel Morris is sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading so widely like the asshole that he is, arms leisurely draped across the back of the couch as his hungry eyes immediately snap to your body.

Axel is big. He is a large man and you realize that the moment you see him. Though he is sitting you can easily tell that he’s tall and he is definitely bulky. Could end you in a blink of an eye and knowing that he is capable of murder is just an eerie thought that doesn’t leave you alone. But you suck it up and get into character, only thinking about one thing: help Harry out of this mess.

Music with low bass starts playing through the speakers as you make your way over to Axel who grins at you disgustingly, making it hard for you to keep the façade.

“Hey big boy, heard you’ve earned a dance for yourself,” you coo at him stopping at the edge of the stage as you keep eye-contact with him. You lean against the edge and spread your legs just enough to tease his imagination about what’s about to come.

“Hell yes, I did! Hope you’re a good dancer, babygirl. Haven’t seen you around here.”

“I’m new. But I’m really good, that’s why they sent me,” you smirk at him sweetly as you walk closer until you’re standing in front of him. He reaches out and grabbing your hips he pulls you to straddle his lap and it catches you by surprise but you don’t fall out of character.

“Then show me what you can do. What’s your name?” He licks his lips as you start moving, doing your best from movies you’ve seen with strippers in them.

“Crystabel, but you can call me yours,” you hum, grinding and bouncing yourself, completely unleashing your inner hoe. “Tell me, big boy. Are you as dangerous as you seem?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he grins proudly.

“Really?” you coo, pushing yourself up against him. His dirty hands find your ass and you want to push them away so badly, but you let him have his way with you for the sake of the plan. “What’s the worst you’ve done?”

“Why does a pretty girl like you want to know about that, huh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you with suspicion so you know you have to be careful.

“Because I have a thing for those stuff. I love pain and blood, it gets me off always,” you smirk at him teasingly, grinding yourself against him to divert his attention a little from the words spoken.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yeah, I love that kind of stuff,” you moan, running your hands down your chest, his eyes hungrily following your every move and you know he is zoned out. It’s going perfectly.

“Well, I’m the perfect man for you then, babygirl. I’ve done all the things you can imagine.”

“Really? You are turning me on, big boy,” you murmur lowly, turning around for a bit so he can get a good glimpse of your backside as well. “Have you… taken anyone’s life before?” you bluntly ask, hoping you aren’t moving too fast and he won’t snap at you.

“Not sure I should be talking about that with you, pretty girl,” he smirks smugly. You turn back to face him, pushing your crotch against him as you try not to gag feeling his erection under you.

“I’m good with secrets, Honey. My lips are sealed,” you grin at him, stroking his oily face and try your best not to wipe your fingers into the cushion of the couch. Axel smirks at you, clearly enjoying the show you are putting on, his fingers are digging into your thighs as his eyes are practically glued to your chest.

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

“Yeah?” you gasp, faking your excitement. “What did you do, big boy? Tell me, make me wet,” you purr biting into your bottom lip, pushing your chest out some more to distract him from his consciousness that might keep him from answering.

“Killed a guy recently,” he smugly admits and your adrenaline is high in the sky. You are so close to what you need!

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

“Saw it on the news a guy got killed not long ago, did you do that?” you smirk at him, his hand slapping your ass and you fight yourself not to punch him in the face.

“That Richards guy? Yeah,” he nods and you almost start screaming in your triumph. This dumbass really did just confess to you, because you had your ass and tits out for him!

“Cool. What’s your name, big guy? Wanna know who I’ll think of when I touch myself later,” you pant into his ear, you need him to say his name otherwise the confession might go to shit.

“I’m Axel, babygirl,” he grins, leaning dangerously close to you, he clearly wants to push his tongue down your throat but you push yourself away and up from his lap.

“Our time is up, big boy. See you later!” you sing and walk out of the room while he is still kind of zoned out.

The moment you are out, you start running. You can’t have him realize what just happened and stop you. Pushing your way back to the dressing room you grab all your stuff and spring out of the building. Harry is standing at the entrance, his ridiculous disguise is gone as he spots you with wide eyes. He probably heard everything and wanted to be there for you when you get out and as soon as you reach him he grabs your hand and the two of you run to the car. Right when you get into the car, you spot Axel running out from the front entrance and he definitely realized what just happened.

“Hey! Get back here you slut!” he shouts as Harry starts the car and you melt into the seat, scared of what’s about to happen because you see Axel reach to his back and the next thing you know is that he has a gun in his hand.

“Harry! Go!” you scream when you see him aim at the car and right at that moment, the wheels screech as Harry pushes the gas pedal to the fullest and the car yanks forward.

Your heart drops to the floor when a bullet shoots into the side of the car as Axel tries to stop the two of you. Harry takes a sharp turn and leaves the car park with full speed. You see Axel from the mirror, he is raging and keeps shooting after you, but he has no aim or whatsoever. You reach the end of the street and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Oh shit, fuck,” you mumble, chest heaving as you grab onto the armrest for some kind of leverage, your adrenaline is still pumping through your veins from the action movie-like scene that just happened.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry asks, eyes dancing between the road ahead of him and you as he tries to figure out if anything happened to you.

“I-I’m fine, he was just… fucking nasty to deal with you,” you groan at the thought of his hands on you. You’ll need the hottest shower after this, that’s for sure. “Go to the station, we gotta bring the tape in now,” you tell him as you reach into your corset. Pulling the recorder out you huff in relief, it’s been pressed into you for way too long. The tape is still rolling so you end it and then rewind it, checking if everything you need is on it. Luckily, it caught the whole thing perfectly, that means Harry is not going to jail. Well, not this time at least.

He is speeding down the streets as you get rid of the wig and put on your coat, you don’t want to walk into the police station dressed like a hooker and have the word spread that Robert’s sister has been making money some other way lately.

Arriving to the station you hold the recorder so tightly as if your life depends on it while Harry reaches for your other hand and firmly holds it in his warm palm. You walk inside and immediately spot Jeremy at the front desk. Letting go of Harry’s hand you run up to him.

“Jer, I got evidence for the Richards case! I got a confession on tape,” you beam at him holding the recorder up. He gives you a stunned look as he takes the recorder.

“Confession? How do you—“ He is cut off when you hear Harry’s voice from behind you.

“Hey! What the fuck!” he snaps and as you turn around you see that two officers are already on him, trying to handcuff him. Jeremy quickly forgets about the recorder as he joins in on strangling Harry. but you grab his arm and try to pull back.

“No! He didn’t do it! Listen to the tape!” you cry out, desperate to end this mess, but it feels like no one is listening to you.

“Harry Styles, you are under arrest for the murder of Dave Richards. You have the right…” One of the officers starts saying the usual speech as they drag Harry away while you are begging to Jeremy to listen to you.

“Jeremy! He didn’t fucking do it!” you scream, tears rolling down your face.

“What do you mean?” he asks giving you a puzzled look. It was Axel Morris! One of Hugo McKain’s men! They are trying to frame Harry!” you explain, while Harry is being taken away. “Harry, no!” you shout after them, but the officers don’t stop.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll be fine!” he calls after you before he disappears from your vision.

“Jeremy, please just listen to the fucking tape! I got his confession!”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m afraid Harry is spending the night here,” he sighs, looking down at the recorder before he walks away.

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

When you finally stop crying you rush out of the building and call your brother, not even caring that it’s past midnight. He better answer your call or you are showing up at his house and start banging on his door until he opens it.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growls into the phone.

“Robert, they fucking took Harry in! I had the confession on tape, but they just wouldn’t listen, they arrested him!”

“Hey, slow down, what are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath you tell him the whole story. The club, the dance, the confession and then how you came straight to the station but they arrested Harry without listening to you.

“Alright, you can’t do much now, Y/N. He is still a suspect but I’ll call Jeremy to look into the tape. If it’s found relevant Harry will be out in the morning okay?”

“Please come in early in the morning and make sure he is let out, please!” you cry out, feeling so helpless after everything that just happened.

“I will. Meet me at the station at six, okay? It’ll be alright. Go home, have some sleep and then we’ll make everything right in the morning.”

You do as Robert asked, go home, have a shower, wash the night off of your skin and lie in bed however you are not able to sleep, not even for a minute. You keep thinking about Harry and what might be happening to him now. They better get their shit together and let him out in the morning or you are losing your mind. You didn’t go through all this just to have him put behind bars anyway.

It’s not even six when you are already at the station, anxiously waiting for Robert to show up. You keep glancing up at the building, thinking about how Harry is somewhere in there and you can only hope he’ll be out with you shortly.

When Robert arrives he goes straight up to check out the situation with the tape and Harry. Waiting for him down in the hall is nerve-wrecking, you feel like time has stopped. When he finally appears again you jump to your feet running up to him with high hopes.

“The tape has been examined, it was classified as evidence. Jeremy has already put out an arrest warrant on Axel. Harry is no longer a suspect. He’ll be down once the paperwork is done.”

“Oh thank God!” you breathe out and throw yourself at him, hugging him tighter than ever.

“Look, but there is something I need to talk to you about,” he says with a serious look.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We might be able to get this Axel guy, but I’m pretty sure Hugo is already after the two of you. We have a whole team for him, working on catching him finally, but it might be smart if you just left town for a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

“Let me know if you need help with that. I can arrange something for you.”

“We’ll see. I have to talk to Harry first.”

“Harry, huh?” Robert smirks down at you knowingly and you feel yourself blushing. A lot has changed lately around you and Harry and you guess it’s quite evident for everyone else as well. “Just so you know, he asked about you during the night. Wanted to know if you are alright.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with a small smile.

“Yes. Might have been wrong about him a little. Tell him I said hello, I need to get to work now,” he nods with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Robert!” you call after him as he waves in your way before disappearing in the elevator.

Waiting around in the hall you keep looking towards the hallway, hoping to see him appear finally, but the minutes are just dragging by way too slowly.

You’re impatiently sitting on one of the benches by the wall when you finally see him walking down the hallway, leisurely running his hand through his hair, a tired smile sitting on his lips when he sees you leap from your seat and launch at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey! It’s all good, Love. Told you not to worry about me,” he chuckles, but holds you tight anyway, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you off the ground, taking a few steps forward.

“Of course I fucking worry about you, idiot!” you mumble into his neck before leaning back you look at his pretty face.

“Yeah? Does this mean I had the right to worry about you last night?”

“You were?”

“Fuck yes,” he laughs. “You have no idea what it was like to sit outside and listen to everything that fucker told you. Wanted to punch him in the face so badly.”

“So heroic,” you grin at him, your face already inching closer to his, arms still wrapped around his neck.

“Only for my favorite stripper,” he winks at you, making you gasp.

“If you dare to bring it up again and call me a stripper, I swear to God I—“

You don’t get to finish your threat, because his hand snakes to the back of your neck and he pulls you into a hard kiss, his lips smashing against yours. Melting into the kiss you open your mouth for him without hesitation, his tongue meeting yours as he kisses you with so much vigor and passion, he makes you bend your back, leaning back as he holds you firmly in his strong arms. And suddenly, you feel like you’re seventeen again, making out with your high school crush in the school hallway, luckily, you are kissing the same person you wanted then.

“I’m fucking starving, babe,” he breathes out once you finally pull away from each other. “For you as well, but can we get some real food?” he asks as he laces his fingers together with yours, heading out of the station.

“Sure,” you chuckle. “Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Love, told you, you can handcuff me to the bedframe, I’m into that stuff.”

“Shut up!” you laugh smacking his chest as the two of you walk out to your car. “It’s not about that,” you murmur with a soft blush. “Robert said we should leave for a while, Hugo might be after us after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, thought about that myself too,” he nods as he gets behind the wheel without even asking if you want him to drive or not.

“So what should we do?” you question, sitting in the comfort of your car. Harry reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly before he smirks at you.

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

“No,” you breathe out, a little stunned by the question.

“I have a friend over there, I’m sure he would love to have us there for a while. What do you say?”

“Are you for real? You want to go to Ireland with me?”

“Yeah, would be fun, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” you smile in awe. Even after that kiss you had doubts he would want to run away with you for the time being. But he is definitely planning to have you around longer. “Yeah, Ireland sounds fun.”

“Great. Then let’s head home to pack,” he smirks, starting the car. “Oh, Love?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to bring your handcuffs,” he grins and you just laugh at his smugness before leaning closer to kiss him quickly before the two of you finally drive away from the station.

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

[spnfanficpond]

December 2021 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Welcome to this month's Angel Fish Awards!

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE (you don’t have to be a member) CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. Everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that this fun, thoughtful award will do just that.

Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for Tumblr tagging purposes!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE THIS MONTH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by  @mariekoukie6661

Tell me a story by @supernatural-jackles

I really like how Jen writes about mental health in her stories! I love her story!

Serendipity by  @waywardbaby

This is the fluffiest fluff to fluff and it is soooo cute I love it!!

~*~*~

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis 

I Don’t Want the Damn Crown by @fictionalabyss 

This takes the usual ABO gender roles and turns them a bit on their ear and I LOVE IT!!! You don’t meet her until nearly the end, but HOLY CHUCK, Y/N is AWESOME!!! I want 6 seasons and a movie based in this world!

Miscommunication (series) by @winchest09 

This series was giving me the giggles, at first, because my Hubby is European and we’ve had our share of arguments over stuff like this. Now, though, it’s KILLING ME with the angst. Holy moly, IT HURTS SO BAD, GUYS!! I really can’t wait to read the ending of this one when it’s (hopefully) all better!!

Winchester Studies by @waywardnerd67

This series is KILLING me, y'all! Both brothers?? Professors?? *SWOON* I'm weak in the knees!!

~*~*~

Nominated by  @little-diable

More Eggnog by @negans-lucille-tblr

It’s just everything. I have not nearly enough words to describe how much I adore Bee and her writing. But this fic made my heart flutter in excitement.

~*~*~

Nominated by @negans-lucille-tblr

Let your heart be light (Sam and Dean :Christmas Oneshot) by @agenthellcat 

Everyone needs some fluff at Christmas, even me. Especially those boys being all domesticated and shizz. Swooooon.

Brotherly Bonds by @outofnowhere82

Wincest AND Denny... no words, just inappropriate words and feelings

~*~*~

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

Never Doubt the Best Man by @stusbunker

This is a wonderful AU series. Dean is adorable, flirty, and sexy. I love the connection between him and the reader and how sassy she is.(Ongoing)

Our Christmas Missions by @amanda-teaches​ 

The fluffiest Christmas series! The characterization of Dean is spot on. There are so many sweet little moments in this fic. A joy to read.

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE AWESOME WORK AND GREAT FEEDBACK!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the Pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Four: First Day

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous chapters here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

Angel leads Scully out of Ricky’s office and back down the hall, pointing to various doors.

“Here are the customer bathrooms, we don’t use these. That’s the exit to the lobby, but we have our own door in the back. Through here is the floor.”

Angel makes no mention of the other, unmarked doors in the hall. She pushes the “Enter Here to be Dominated” door open and they walk into a large room with the floors and ceiling painted black. To the left, there's a long bar that covers nearly the entire wall with at least twenty stools butting up to it. Directly across from the bar on the right wall, there’s a small round stage with a gold pole erected in the center. A shallow counter, just wide enough to set a cup, runs along the entire perimeter of the stage with chairs neatly pushed in against it. A mental image of herself on the stage while men look on flashes in her mind and she shakes her head gently, forcing it away. Along the back wall are several small partitions; little rooms constructed out of dark red curtains that are currently pinned open to reveal a loveseat and table in each one. The rest of the room is filled with small black tables and chairs, and can probably seat upwards of 100 people. Angel leads Scully to the left, approaching the bar.

“Back here is the bar, obviously, and this is Queenie, our lead bartender. Queenie, this is Diane, Ricky just hired her,” Angel continues.

A tall Asian woman stands from behind the counter holding a case of Jack Daniels. She has wide, round eyes and a diamond-cut chin, her full lips painted dark red and her black hair tied into a high bun.

“Hey,” she replies, “is Diane your stage name? You’re getting soft, Angel,” she teases, casting Angel a flirtatious smile.

“Oh, no, we actually haven’t gotten that far yet,” Angel replies before turning to Scully, resting one elbow on the bar top. “So while you’re waitressing, you’ll talk to Queenie a lot. She can make any drink under the sun. Tip her out twenty percent of whatever you make.”

Scully nods and wishes she had something to write all this down. Between the new terminology and rules, she's already getting confused and is bound to make a mistake. Angel leads her to the other side of the room and climbs gingerly up onto the stage.

“This is the stage, duh, and this is the pole. We call him Paul, the pin to make it spin or stationary is down here,” she leans and points to a small pin at the base of the pole.

“Oh!” Scully exclaims, “I guess never realized the pole spins.”

“Common misconception,” Angel goes on, wrapping her knee and elbow around the pole and spinning a couple slow rotations as she speaks. “But that’s why you don’t want to put oil or anything slippery on your legs or arms. You need to be able to get a good grip, especially while the pole is spinning. We’ll talk more about that later, come up here.”

Scully baulks and looks around, but climbs onto a chair, then the drink rail before finally getting to the stage itself. The room looks even bigger from up here.

“So, just from a Bird's Eye view up here,” Angel continues, “those seats against the wall back there at the end of the bar we call the rock section. Dudes just grab a seat and order a soda and then nurse it all night. Never pay for dances, never come to the tip rail, nothin’. Just sit there like a damn rock. It can be a fun challenge when you’re waitressing to try to get them to buy more drinks, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Tip rail?” Scully asks, sensing that this will be something she has to do a lot.

“Right, these seats right here,” Angel points to the seats that are lined up along the perimeter of the stage, “are the tip rail. You have to sit here or be close to it in order to tip stage dances, hence the name. Something else you’ll hear is doing a mini-lap, which is just when you let a guy at the tip rail motorboat you or put his face in your ass or whatever. Usually you’d do that when they give you a really fat tip.”

“I thought Ricky said the men aren’t allowed to touch you?” Scully clarifies, subconsciously rounding her shoulders and crossing her arms protectively.

“Ah, important distinction. WE can touch THEM, but they can’t touch us. So like, I can rub my tits on a guy's face, but if he grabs them, he’s toast. There are some limits to that I’ll tell you about later, but you can’t give a good lap dance without touching so we definitely touch, it’s just always us who does it, not them.”

Scully is impressed by the degree to which Ricky seems to embrace the “women in control” model, but she’s curious to see whether it’s all talk.

“So that middle part with lots of small tables,” Angel is now pointing to the middle of the room, in front of the rock section, “that’s usually where the whales sit, like Mr. Keane. They’re too classy to sit at the rail but you can still see pretty good from there. And lastly, over there,” she now points to her right to the small curtained rooms, “those are the VIP rooms. We’ll talk more about those later too when we talk about the rules, but they’re basically where customers can take a girl for a private dance.”

Scully feels a pit in her stomach. No matter what rules they have in place, there is no way she can be safe behind a curtain with a man who is paying to access her body. Her distress is interrupted by music suddenly pouring from the speakers at an obscene volume, making them both jump. It cuts off as quickly as it started, and Angel turns to look at a small raised booth behind and to the right of the stage.

“What the fuck, Ben?!” she shouts, raising her arms in an angry gesture.

“Sorry, Angel, my bad!” A thin Asian man with a narrow face and a goatee waves down to them apologetically.

“That’s Ben, the DJ. He’s not usually so obnoxious,” Angel says to Scully, then turns and shouts up to Ben. “This is the new girl, Diane!”

“What the fuck kind of stage name is Diane?” He calls back down. “Also, hi, I’m Ben,” he adds, waving again. Scully smiles warmly and waves back.

“We haven’t picked her name yet!” Angel shouts back. “We really need to pick your name, girl, this is getting old fast,” she says to Scully.

“Um, this may be a strange question,” Scully starts, “but, is everyone who works here Asian?”

Angel looks off into space for a moment, lost in thought. “No, but everyone here right now is, huh?! That’s a weird coincidence. Anyway, Asian is a big group. Denny out front is Samoan, which is actually Pacific Islander. Queenie is Vietnamese, and Ben is Japanese. And Ricky is white as fuck,” she bursts into a fit of giggles at her own joke.

“And what about you?” Scully asks her.

Angel turns and starts to walk away from her, casting a coy glance over her shoulder. “I’m whoever you want me to be, Baby,” she says with a flirty lilt in her voice, before adding “come on, I’ll show you the back.”

“The back,” accessible by a door just behind the stage, is a long hallway with restrooms, a staff locker room, a break room with a kitchen, and a dressing room for the dancers.

“So, I’m gonna show you the dancer’s room now, just so you have an idea what you’re working towards, but just FYI that they really don’t let the waitresses come back here. After this I’d keep your ass out if you don’t want to get torn a new one,” Angel advises her.

The dancer’s room is modest in size with mirrored stations set up along two walls and a small bank of four more in the middle of the room. Each station is slightly different, but most have a makeup kit, hair products, and a box that locks with a code to store cash tips. Three of the stations sit empty. Along the back wall are four doors, and along the left wall is a double-height clothes rack full of straps, sequins, lace, and mesh of all colors. While the floor had smelled like cleaner on top of stale beer and sweat, the dancer’s room is sweet and perfumed with hints of vanilla and cinnamon.

“What’s through those doors?” Scully asks casually.

“The second one on the left will take you outside, that’s the one we can use to come and go without having to go by the customers,” Angel answers. “There’s another one of those at the end of the hall out there you can use while you’re waitressing. The door on the far right is a single stall bathroom. The other ones are storage or something, I don’t know. They’re locked.”

Scully gives no reaction to this information but makes a mental note of it for later. After they look at the general staff locker room and the kitchen, Angel plops down at a table near the fridge and Scully follows suit, taking the seat across from her.

“So, before we go grab lunch, let’s figure out your stage name so we can introduce you to people properly,” Angel begins. “There’s kind of a tradition here that your stage name starts with the same first letter as your real name. I don’t know why, and people will say it’s not a ‘rule’ per se, but if you don’t do it it will probably seem weird.”

“What’s your real name, if that’s okay to ask?” Scully inquires nervously. Not having real names will make this whole investigation a lot harder.

“Oh no, it’s fine. They aren’t a secret or anything, we just don’t like the customers to know our real names. My name is Ann. So Ann/Angel, both A’s. Queenie’s real name is Quyen. You can ask any of the girls and they’ll tell you their real name if you want. Except maybe Lexie, she’s a stuck up bitch. So I’ll just tell you now, her real name is Leanne.”

Scully laughs good-naturedly, though she has the passing thought that a lot of people may describe her as a stuck up bitch too.

“So, something that starts with a D, what suits your fancy?” Angel asks. Seeing the worried look on Scully’s face, she makes some suggestions. “You could go with a classic, like Diamond. Something a little more stereotypical like Destiny. Oh, what about Desiree, that’s really pretty, and it suits you.”

Scully considers it for a moment. Who she’d really like to be is Dana, on her way home from this insanity. Given that isn’t an available option, Desiree isn’t so bad.

“Yeah, I think I like that,” she says with a shy smile.

“Great, can I call you Desi?” Angel asks excitedly.

“Sure,” Scully responds, and then follows a very spirited Angel out into the afternoon sunlight in search of something to eat.

They end up at a little Mexican restaurant a short walk from the club. It’s the kind of hole in the wall place that only locals know exists, with tacky pink paint on the booths and dusty Cinco De Mayo flags criss-crossing the ceiling.

“So, Angel, how’d you end up working at Damsels?” Scully asks as she drags a tortilla chip through the watery salsa. She’s highly motivated to solve this case and get the hell out of here, so there’s no sense in wasting time.

“Oh, I just met Ricky through mutual friends and he told me about his club. I was a dancer at a total shithole before, so coming here was such a huge relief.” She stabs at the ice in her drink with a straw, breaking it up into smaller pieces.

“Are you working towards something else, or is there something else you’re hoping to do?” Scully asks next.

“I might ask you the same, Desi,” Angel returns with a slight cock of her head, and Scully realizes that was a rude question.

“Sorry, I guess I still have a lot to learn about the social nuances of this job.”

Angel shakes her head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a question you get asked a lot as a dancer, as you’ll find out. Everyone thinks you’re just stopping here on the way to something better, something more legit. God forbid your life plan is to show your ass for cash, right? I mean, that is true for some of the girls; Tibet is getting her masters and Magenta has a day job as a therapist, but I honestly just like it.”

Scully is more careful with the wording on her next question. “What do you like about it?”

“Well,” Angel takes a bite of a chip and chews thoughtfully, “I grew up with really judgmental, uptight parents who basically made me feel like I was dirty and disgusting for existing, and for being female. I was always really ashamed of my body and when men looked at me, I thought I was doing something wrong to bring it on myself. After I moved out, my friend took me to a strip club and I was totally blown away by the confidence the women had with their bodies. Men were looking at them, but not like they were gross and sinful, just like they were…beautiful. And they looked so powerful up there commanding all that attention. And I just wanted to be up there like that, celebrating my body and deciding what happened with and to it. And here I am.”

Scully sits quietly, absorbing an answer that she wasn’t expecting to hear. She thinks about her own upbringing and the “good girls don’t” mentality that tainted her early sexual exploration. Even as a fully grown adult in consensual, committed relationships, she couldn’t shake the underlying guilt that she was worldly and sinful for desiring and having sex outside of marriage. It bleeds over into her relationship with Mulder, she knows. She can accept any physical attention he bestows upon her, and in fact wants it desperately, but for her to initiate it would mean…something. Something she isn’t ready to admit, even to herself.

Angel speaks again, interrupting her thought. “What about you, Desi, what brings you here? I showed you mine, you show me yours…or whatever.”

“Oh,” Scully says, scrambling to bring her cover story forward. “Um, I, uh, I got divorced recently, or I’m legally separated, anyway. I just got my own place after living with my husband for seven years and I haven’t really worked that whole time, I just supported his work. So, I don’t really have any marketable skills.”

Angel smiles. “Shoot, that ass is a marketable skill, girl! Those titties are hella marketable.”

Scully blushes, unused to anyone talking about her that way, and is surprised by how flattered she feels by such a crass compliment. Their server arrives and sets their plates down, and Angel’s demeanor shifts a bit as they dig into their meal.

“Okay, so down to the nitty gritty. Like I said, there are rules for us as dancers, and for waitresses too. Ricky mentioned his feelings about heroin and meth, right?”

“Yep, that will not be an issue,” Scully says confidently, spearing a bell pepper with her fork.

“Good, so also don’t get, like, super drunk or super high while on shift. A little to take the edge off is okay, but a drunk stripper is just pathetic. Like I said, the men can’t touch us, but it’s okay for us to touch them, EXCEPT we do NOT do extras at Damsels. No hand jobs, no blow jobs, and definitely no fucking, not even in VIP. Not in their car outside, not behind the dumpster, it’s a very hard and fast rule, no pun intended. Ricky will fire even his best girl in a heartbeat if he finds out she’s doing extras. Oh, and no kissing.”

Continue Reading on AO3

[diazevan]

this is my family

Nobody can keep secrets from Christopher Diaz.

Christopher Diaz Week, Day 2: Chris and his extended family + “Just don’t tell your dad.”

Read on AO3

Christopher knew when his dad was lying; when he spoke, he would frown, his eyebrows connected in the middle.

Aunt Pepa did the same. So did Abuelo.

Christopher wondered if did it too, but he couldn’t check; not even in the mirror because when he lied to himself, it wasn’t the same as lying to other people.

Christopher couldn’t tell when Buck was telling a lie, his face didn’t screw up or change, his voice didn’t either.

When Buck had once jumped off the couch, chasing Christopher and Denny, telling them that he had X-Ray vision, his face looked the same as always. Even though it wasn’t true, he was only playing pretend.

Then Christopher caught Buck talking to Aunt Pepa in the kitchen, the pair of them grinning wide while keeping their voices super quiet. When Christopher walked inside, they stopped and started talking about work.

Christopher knew they had a secret.

Before Christopher’s dad or Buck could leave for work, Christopher grabbed Buck’s arm, “Do you have a secret?”

Buck hummed as he pressed his hands together, “No, I don’t think so.”

Christopher hummed, not sure if that was true or not, “Okay.”

Buck ruffled his hair, “See you later, Superman.”

“Bye!”

Christopher’s dad slid across the floor, onto his knees, pulling Christopher into his arms, “Have fun with Tía.” He leaned back, pushing his hand back through Christopher’s hand, “We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Christopher grinned, “See you, Dad.”

“Yesss…” Buck was scrolling on his phone, “Bobby’s making waffles for breakfast.”

“Let’s get to them before Chim does,” Eddie laughed, he grabbed Buck’s hand as he swung the front door open, “Bye!”

Christopher ran over to the window to watch them as their car pulled off the driveway onto the street.

Pepa spoke up, “Do you want to watch a movie, mi amor?”

Christopher turned, “Can we watch Lilo and Stitch?”  

She smiled, “Of course.”

He made his way into the lounge, jumping onto the couch, grabbing his feet as he crossed his legs; Pepa turned on the television, scrolling through to Disney Plus.

She clicked on the movie before didn’t press start, “Should I get us some popcorn?”

“Yes!” Christopher threw up his arms in the air, “Please.” He got up onto his feet, “I’m gonna put on my PJs.”

“Good plan,” She smiled as she danced into the kitchen. Christopher raised his eyebrows; Pepa seemed happy, but more than normal.

After getting changed into his Spider-Man pyjamas, he jumped back on the couch, grabbing one of the blankets to lay across his lap.

Pepa bought over the bowl of popcorn, placing it on the table when she sat next to him, “You ready to watch?” She asked, still smiling.

Christopher shook his head.

She tilted her head, “Why not?”

Christopher held up his hands, “Do you know a secret?”

“No.” Pepa frowned, her eyebrows together, but she didn’t stop smiling, “I don’t.”

He knew it, “Yes you do.”

“Amor—”

Christopher put things together like a jigsaw, “Is it about Buck?”

She didn’t stop frowning, “No.”

“You were talking about it—” Christopher pointed, “In the kitchen.”

Pepa folded her arms over her chest, shaking her head, “I can’t tell you.”

Christopher jumped, “Please, please, please!”

“Christopher….”

“I won’t tell no one!”

“I’m sorry, mi amor, I can’t tell you,” She sighed, “Buck is gonna ask you tomorrow.”

Christopher leaned his back against the couch, as he thought. Ask? She didn’t say ‘tell,’ she said ‘ask’ and that was weird. What would Buck need to ask him? It was something happy, Christopher knew that; something good, not bad.

Since they started dating, Christopher’s dad and Buck asked him if he was all right with everything. If he was okay that they were boyfriends, all right with Buck moving into their house, and the answer to every single question was a big ‘YES!’

A cartoon lightbulb popped into Christopher’s head, “Does—” He stretched his arms, “Does Buck wanna marry Dad?”

Pepa squeaked, placing her chin under her chin, not saying a word.

“Is that the secret?”

“Hmmm…” She shook her head, nudging his side, “You’re too clever.” She squeezed his arm, “Just don’t tell your dad.”

Christopher rocked forward, excited, “I won’t.” He raised his pinkie finger like he saw Buck and Maddie do all the time, “Promise.”

Pepa linked her pinkie around his, “Gracias.”

***

Christopher couldn’t stop thinking about the secret; he didn’t ask Pepa any questions because he knew she wasn’t meant to say anything.

Buck would be his dad’s husband and that would mean he would be Christopher’s second dad; he already was, but this would mean that everybody else would know too. He could become Christopher Diaz Buckley or Christopher Buckley Diaz.

That would be so cool.

Christopher couldn’t wait and he already knew that his dad would say ‘yes.’

He was laying in bed, waiting for them to get home from their shift.

He’d spent a whole day, dreaming about a wedding, it would be so fun, and he couldn’t wait.

When he heard their voices outside, he jumped up in bed, wearing his widest smile.

“Hey, buddy,” His dad headed inside, closing the door behind him, “How are you?” He skipped over, taking Christopher’s hands.

“Good.”

“You have a nice time?” Eddie asked, running a hand through Christopher’s hair, “And did you do your homework?”

“Yes and yes!”

“Well done.” He got up, sitting at the end of the bed, with his legs crossed, “I need to ask you a question.”

Christopher whispered, copying his dad’s quiet voice, “What question?”

His dad smiled, wide, “Would you be okay if Buck and I got married?”

Christopher didn’t smile. Instead, he hummed, confused; he thought maybe Buck has already asked but that wouldn’t make any sense, because his dad was whispering.

“Buddy?” Eddie turned serious, “Is that not something—”

“Did he ask you?”

“No.” Eddie was telling the truth, “But I wanna ask him.”

Christopher shouted accidentally, “You can’t!”

His dad looked sad, “Okay…”

“You can’t ask him—”

“Bud, if you’re not ready for us—”

Christopher tapped his dad’s arm, “No, you can’t because he’s going to ask you.”

His dad stared at him, his mouth falling open, “Did—”

“Buck told Pepa, and I worked it out by myself,” He told him, “It was meant to be a secret.”

“Oh.” Eddie sighed, shocked, “Wow.”

“Sorry.”

His dad laughed, hand pressed against his belly, “Oh, don’t be sorry, amor.” He pressed a kiss on his forehead, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

There was a knock at the door.

Eddie called, “Come in.”

“What’s going on in here, then?” Buck asked, swinging the door open, “A secret meeting that I wasn’t invited to?”

“I told him that you wanna marry him!” Christopher couldn’t hold it inside, “On accident.”

He could hear Pepa yelp from the kitchen.

Buck turned his head towards his boyfriend, “Oh.”

“Is that—” Eddie squeaked, “Is that true?”

“Ummmm…” Buck pressed his hands together, “No.”

“Yeah, you do!” Christopher raised his arms over his head with a laugh; so that was it, Buck played with his hands when he lied.

Buck scratched his head, “I had a plan—”

“So did I,” Eddie said back.

“I like this better.”

“Same…” Eddie hummed as he reached for Buck’s arm, pulling him into a kiss.

Christopher chuckled before sticking out his tongue and saying, “Eww...”

“Ew?” His dad turned his head, “Did you say ew?” He jumped onto the bed, tickling Christopher, with a laugh.

Buck jumped onto the end of the bed, joining them, ending up, squished together in a group hug.

Pepa stepped inside, smiling, “I'm guessing congratulations are in order?”

Eddie spoke, happier than ever, "Yeah, they are.”

Pepa opened her arms, and Buck was the first on his feet, welcoming the hug; Eddie scooped Christopher up before joining the hug. Christopher leaned his head on top of Buck’s as he smiled.

Nobody could keep secrets from Christopher Diaz.

[chazz-anova]

tagged by my loves @johnnycranes and @scungilliwoman to fill out a lil 'about me'! thank you guys these are always so fun!

Name: Paige/Jaden (don't look at me ygogx was my fave)

Age: 22

Height: 5'2" short queens unite

Zodiac Sign: Gemini Sun/Sag Moon/Sag Rising ♊♐

Where do you call home: 'The navel of this great country' (gone girl quote my beloved) lol, but fr the central midwest!

Any tattoos or piercings: My ears are pierced, and I haveeeee (pausing to count) 19 tattoos! In quick succession they are- a black widow on my neck, lilacs on my shoulder, the maze from westworld on my inner right arm, some eyeballs in a jar from ozark on my wrist, the frog from otgw on my other shoulder, a lightening bolt on my lower arm, 'let me not be derided by fools' along my arm, sam from trick r treat with the pumpkin from halloween on my wrist, the evil eye on my inner arm, a quote below that saying 'bosses beware when we're screwed we multiply', the triple goddess, a bony fish on my thumb, the symbol for Venus on my index finger, devil horns on my middle finger, an evergreen tree on my ring finger, a gemini symbol on my ankle, a heart with the words 'fuck you' in it on my knee, some crossbones from the game dishonored on my other knee, anddddd a little ghost on my thigh! i think that's it! (didn't realize this would turn into a paragraph when i started listing them but i couldn't stop when i started lmao)

Last song you listened to: STFU - Pink Guy

Last movie you watched: I watched Treasure Planet to fall asleep last night!

Last book or fanfic you read: Last book I read was the first in the True Blood (Sookie Stackhouse) Series, last fanfic was uhhhhh my own probably- I'm so bad at reading fics unless people send them to me lol

Do you collect anything: Yes! I collect crystals for mystical reasons, candles, perfumes, and I have a decent collection of cups from the restaurant The Other Place that my mother so kindly donated to me from her collection lmfao

Morning person or night owl: Not to be that person but- both? I love an early morning where I can get my coffee and get some writing done as the birds begin to wake up, but I also bask in the hush of night and watching the lights twinkling in the city

Are you an optimist, a pessimist, or a realist: Optimist!

A quote you live by: There's a couple I can think of! "Progress isn't linear", "Every cloud has a silver lining", and one of my faves from Buffy The Vampire Slayer- "The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it. So be brave- live."

Are you an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert: Ambivert no question!!! I love being social and big, elaborate gatherings, but afterwards I will need like a week to recharge lol

Do you believe in an afterlife or not: Absolutely! I believe there's limbo, there's something after, and of course something before as well. I don't have anything necessarily fully formed- but I believe you reincarnate until you're learned all the lessons your soul must learn, and then you get to retire and function as a guide for others going through their lessons or possibly just get to rest for eternity! Probably depends on what you want or are destined for (not to sound hokey lol)

A weird or fun fact about yourself: Copying off of Mika's fun fact bc I'm unoriginal lmao, I was once an extra in a zombie movie with my mom and stepmom and her kids! After filming me and my family went to Dennys with all our makeup still on it was great lol

If you could have coffee with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be: Oooooh wonderful question... HARD question!!!! I would have to choose someone interesting like Robert Patterson (he seems nice and unhinged), or Julie d'Aubigny, that bisexual 17th century pirate/opera singer

tagging @fadedjacket @envyisms @chyrstis @depyotee @lovely-english-rose @adelaidedrubman and anyone else who would like to do it!!