#i spend a lot of my time on my public facing social media sharing articles and graphics and whatnot about antisemitism

[biblicalhorror]

The most frustrating part of engaging in any of this discourse with pro-Israel people is that they claim there's just something ineffable about "seeing and understanding" how supporting Palestinian liberation is directly calling for the eradication of Jewish people (as if that type of rhetoric isn't exactly how actual antisemitism often manifests in online spaces but that's a topic for another day)

They get through people debunking the "the land belongs to the people of Israel anyway" argument and the "LGBTQ Palestinians are safe in Israel" argument and the "Genocide isn't what's happening here so you should educate yourself" argument and when all of those points are meticulously disproven over and over they still stand with "Well, myself and your Jewish friends see the hate you have in your heart for us" and it truly doesn't matter what you say at that point because even if you yourself are Jewish they will claim that refusing to support the state, government and military of Israel is inherently hateful and bigoted, as if a religious ethnostate is some inherent human right that is being taken away from them. I know many of them are blinded by the relentless propaganda that's been around their whole lives and how hard it is to break free from a belief system that is so tied to your core identity as a human being but it is so frustrating watching people being led straight to the point over and over again and just turning around and refusing to see it.

It's also so frustrating to see people using the momentum of this movement to casually tack on actual antisemitism to these discussions, as if having Jewish people in positions of power is why the US bends over backwards to excuse the actions of Israel and not, yknow, the fact that our government directly benefits from having a military stronghold in the middle east. I've talked to some well-meaning pro-Palestine friends irl who casually use antisemetic talking points because they've ALSO bought into the narrative that Israeli = Jewish and so they blame the actions of Israel and the IDF on Jewish people's "religious values" and ignore the fact that this conflict really has almost nothing to do with religion itself and everything to do with capitalism, imperialism and maintaining the US's status as a so-called "global power".

#dont get me wrong there are lots of people on the pro palestine side who are very much aware of and vigilant against antisemitic rhetoric #but i genuinely worry about some of my non-jewish leftist friends and allies falling down some super shady pipelines because of all of this #i spend a lot of my time on my public facing social media sharing articles and graphics and whatnot about antisemitism #and how careful we need to be when calling out these atrocities and our government's complicity in them #but when one side is genuinely claiming with no evidence or argument that being against colonial occupation is just antisemitism #it makes it so hard to call out actual antisemitism within these spaces bc it delegitimizes antisemitism as a concern #i just want to scream #like. im not even jewish and i vividly remember when we had a special lesson in girl scouts about how wonderful Israel is #and they had us make little mini versions of the israel flag and they told us that israel stood for the safety of the jewish people #and i came home and i told my mom about how cool israel was #and she promptly pulled me out of girl scouts #which at the time felt unfair because she didnt explain why #but also how do you explain the horrors of colonialism and imperialism to your newly zionist 10 year old #anyway the point is that if i as a non-jewish girl scout was exposed to that kind of propaganda #i can only imagine how inescapable it must be for many american jews in the US #and i truly empathize with the amount of unlearning that needs to be done #and how hard it must be to let go of some of these ideas #but that doesnt make it any less frustrating to watch these dynamics play out on such a massive scale #and i hold so much respect for people in white jewish communities re-educating themselves and standing on the right side of history #as well as for all of the people of color and especially American Palestinians standing up and using their voices as much as they do #personal

[purplesurveys]

1477

red:

how was your first kiss? Better than how most first kisses go, I guess. Of course it felt a bit awkward but it was awkward in a cute, first-love kind of way.

what do you love about yourself? I’m a good listener and I’m okay at giving advice, so people I care about usually come to me when they’re going through stuff.

when’s the last time you warmed your hands in front of a fire? I don’t think I’ve ever even felt that cold.

would you rather watch a sunrise or sunset? Sunset. For one, I hate being outside or up when it’s super super early anyway.

what’s the best thing about summer? Nothing, really. It’s hot to the point that you feel like being cooked everyday, and it’s too humid that it’s hard to breathe and you feel sticky 24/7.

orange:

what makes you feel warm inside? When a baby or toddler takes a liking to me. I find that it happens a lot and it feels like having some sort of superpower, hahaha.

what’s your favorite halloween tradition? Just seeing how everyone can get creative with their costumes, really. I don’t do much on Halloween.

what’s the last thing you learned? How to sign up for this workout challenge on this app that Bea shared with me.

when’s the last time you felt obsessed? Uh today I guess? I’m always on fangirl mode with BTS lol

what’s your favorite article of clothing? Sleeveless halter tops.

yellow:

if you could have any view from your bedroom window what would you choose? I want to say the sea, but I feel like seeing it everyday would make me tired of it. So I’ll go with the view of a busy city - with the traffic and never-ending bright lights and people walking around and such. I’ve lived in quiet villages all my life and it’d be cool to be somewhere more hectic and alive.

what’s your favorite thing to do on a sunny day? Staying indoors. Unless you’re by the beach/sea, the sun sucks where I live.

what do you consider lucky? I don’t believe in good luck charms or signs.

what made you smile today? I was going over iconic Kardashian moments with my sister and we were laughing at “Kim, would you stop taking pictures of yourself? Your sister is going to jail.”

what makes you happy? Getting to check all the stuff in my ridiculously long to-do list today.

green:

what’s your favorite thing to do outside? I always blank out when faced with this question because the Philippines isn’t public spaces-friendly at all. What do other people do when they are outside? Hahaha. I feel envious of those who live in walkable cities or live near parks and can actually have picnics and things that I only see in movies; my idea of going out is just heading to a mall because malls are all we have.

do you like camping? I haven’t tried it before. I wouldn’t know how to feel about it.

what would you spend $1,000 on? Assuming I have to spend it, airline tickets and a quick vacation. P50,000 isn’t much so I’d probably go to like Singapore for like a little weekend getaway.

what’s your job, or what do you want to do as your job? I’m a manager at a public relations agency, mainly handling lifestyle brands. I already like my job and it’s super in line with what I’m good at doing; but I would probably love it more if it didn’t get mentally taxing and time-consuming like, 80% of the week. I stay for the people, that’s what I always say.

what’s your favorite article of clothing? I already answered this.

blue:

what do you do when you’re sad? I order food, lol. If that’s not possible, I try to find a video that would distract me but would also help in making me feel better.

what are some things you do when you can’t sleep? Using my phone and mindlessly scrolling through social media works wonders.

what kind of covers do you have on your bed? It’s blue and has a moon and stars-themed print on it.

who is the last person you told a secret to? Andi.

purple:

what’s your astrological sign? Taurus.

what’s the best piece of advice you ever received? I can’t remember the exact words but Andi essentially has told me not to rush my healing because it’d be super easy to burn out and relapse that way. This was a really long time ago but it’s still my favorite advice I’ve received, mainly because they narrated through a metaphor.

when’s the last time you followed your instincts? I can’t seem to remember at the moment.

what’s your favorite food? Sushi ohmygod.

what’s your secret dream? To have a big-ass house that can take in lots of stray or abandoned dogs.

#survey #surveys

[glamourousbrat]

Week 2 Blog post

Social media used to be the biggest contributor in my life. I would spend hours upon hours on any platform I had an account on. I would often find myself in both positive and negative lights from them. I would be taking pictures and then comparing myself to everyone else and never thinking I was good enough. Other times, I would be out there and being overjoyed by all the positive attention and all the love I would get from friends and even strangers. Looking back on all of this now, I feel bad for not only myself and others, but also my younger self. We all spend so much time out there trying to look like we have the most perfect life and best looks, when none of the is the truth. Anymore everything has a filter or a photoshop to it. It really is depressing to see that no one is actually comfortable with their true selves, and always is holding themselves to unrealistic standards.

Emma Rathbone's article had such a positive outcome on me because growing up in the early 2000's social media and technology was such a new idea and so limited I was never apart of it. Not to mention I was in my younger years so I was all about Bratz and Monster High. I never was thinking about growing up crazy fast and making myself look better than others in hope of gaining likes. I was always so happy to go over to friends houses just to share Bratz dolls and play games. I fondly remember my earliest social media interaction was with the new Monster High website and just playing games on there and watching the webisodes. Back then I feel social media was so good and pure because it was very limited and not what it is today. I personally prefer this age of media because not only does it hold great memories, it's a lot less drama and anxiety for so many people.

What was stated above can also directly tie into Max Stossel's video. Social media platforms were created with the intent to suck you in for hours. This means gathering all your interests and information to gear certain ads and posts towards your liking, therefore you will spend even more time on their than you usually would. In short it is a serious mind game they use to make money and decrease your self esteem. I personally do not use or care for social media platforms near as much as I used to. I have deleted most of my accounts, and will eventually be deleting my last two when I feel its right. It's weird the hold it all has on you and feel like it's an addiction similar to smoking. I miss the times when things were way more simple and not as tech savvy. Being able to do absolutely anything, or be out in public and not be judged for just standing around and browsing, versus not having your phone glued to your face was the best times. The early 2000's was a prime time and so much easier on everyone and their mental health as well.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Facebook thrives on criticism of "disinformation"

The mainstream critique of Facebook is surprisingly compatible with Facebook’s own narrative about its products. FB critics say that the company’s machine learning and data-gathering slides disinformation past users’ critical faculties, poisoning their minds.

Meanwhile, Facebook itself tells advertisers that it can use data and machine learning to slide past users’ critical faculties, convincing them to buy stuff.

In other words, the mainline of Facebook critics start from the presumption that FB is a really good product and that advertisers are definitely getting their money’s worth when they shower billions on the company.

Which is weird, because these same critics (rightfully) point out that Facebook lies all the time, about everything. It would be bizarre if the only time FB was telling the truth was when it was boasting about how valuable its ad-tech is.

Facebook has a conflicted relationship with this critique. I’m sure they’d rather not be characterized as a brainwashing system that turns good people into monsters, but not when the choice is between “brainwashers” and “con-artists selling garbage to credulous ad execs.”

As FB investor and board member Peter Thiel puts it: “I’d rather be seen as evil than incompetent.” In other words, the important word in “evil genius” is “genius,” not “evil.”

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1440312271511568393

The accord of tech critics and techbros gives rise to a curious hybrid, aptly named by Maria Farrell: the Prodigal Techbro.

A prodigal techbro is a self-styled wizard of machine-learning/surveillance mind control who has see the error of his ways.

https://crookedtimber.org/2020/09/23/story-ate-the-world-im-biting-back/

This high-tech sorcerer doesn’t disclaim his magical powers — rather, he pledges to use them for good, to fight the evil sorcerers who invented a mind-control ray to sell your nephew a fidget-spinner, then let Robert Mercer hijack it to turn your uncle into a Qanon racist.

There’s a great name for this critique, criticism that takes its subjects’ claims to genius at face value: criti-hype, coined by Lee Vinsel, describing a discourse that turns critics into “the professional concern trolls of technoculture.”

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

The thing is, Facebook really is terrible — but not because it uses machine learning to brainwash boomers into iodine-guzzling Qnuts. And likewise, there really is a problem with conspiratorial, racist, science-denying, epistemologically chaotic conspiratorialism.

Addressing that problem requires that we understand the direction of the causal arrow — that we understand whether Facebook is the cause or the effect of the crisis, and what role it plays.

“Facebook wizards turned boomers into orcs” is a comforting tale, in that it implies that we need merely to fix Facebook and the orcs will turn back into our cuddly grandparents and get their shots. The reality is a lot gnarlier and, sadly, less comforting.

There’s been a lot written about Facebook’s sell-job to advertisers, but less about the concern over “disinformation.” In a new, excellent longread for Harpers, Joe Bernstein makes the connection between the two:

https://harpers.org/archive/2021/09/bad-news-selling-the-story-of-disinformation/

Fundamentally: if we question whether Facebook ads work, we should also question whether the disinformation campaigns that run amok on the platform are any more effective.

Bernstein starts by reminding us of the ad industry’s one indisputable claim to persuasive powers: ad salespeople are really good at convincing ad buyers that ads work.

Think of department store magnate John Wanamaker’s lament that “Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don’t know which half.” Whoever convinced him that he was only wasting half his ad spend was a true virtuoso of the con.

As Tim Hwang documents brilliantly in his 2020 pamphlet “Subprime Attention Crisis,” ad-tech is even griftier than the traditional ad industry. Ad-tech companies charge advertisers for ads that are never served, or never rendered, or never seen.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

They rig ad auctions, fake their reach numbers, fake their conversions (they also lie to publishers about how much they’ve taken in for serving ads on their pages and short change them by millions).

Bernstein cites Hwang’s work, and says, essentially, shouldn’t this apply to “disinformation?”

If ads don’t work well, then maybe political ads don’t work well. And if regular ads are a swamp of fraudulently inflated reach numbers, wouldn’t that be true of political ads?

Bernstein talks about the history of ads as a political tool, starting with Eisenhower’s 1952 “Answers America” campaign, designed and executed at great expense by Madison Ave giants Ted Bates.

Hannah Arendt, whom no one can accuse of being soft on the consequences of propaganda, was skeptical of this kind of enterprise: “The psychological premise of human manipulability has become one of the chief wares that are sold on the market of common and learned opinion.”

The ad industry ran an ambitious campaign to give scientific credibility to its products. As Jacques Ellul wrote in 1962, propagandists were engaged in “the increasing attempt to control its use, measure its results, define its effects.”

Appropriating the jargon of behavioral scientists let ad execs “assert audiences, like workers in a Taylorized workplace, need not be persuaded through reason, but could be trained through repetition to adopt the new consumption habits desired by the sellers.” -Zoe Sherman

These “scientific ads” had their own criti-hype attackers, like Vance “Hidden Persuaders” Packard, who admitted that “researchers were sometimes prone to oversell themselves — or in a sense to exploit the exploiters.”

Packard cites Yale’s John Dollard, a scientific ad consultant, who accused his colleagues of promising advertisers “a mild form of omnipotence,” which was “well received.”

Today’s scientific persuaders aren’t in a much better place than Dollard or Packard. Despite all the talk of political disinformation’s reach, a 2017 study found “sharing articles from fake news domains was a rare activity” affecting <10% of users.

https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/sciadv.aau4586

So, how harmful is this? One study estimates “if one fake news article were about as persuasive as one TV campaign ad, the fake news in our database would have changed vote shares by an amount on the order of hundredths of a percentage point.”

https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/jep.31.2.211

Now, all that said, American politics certainly feel and act differently today than in years previous. The key question: “is social media creating new types of people, or simply revealing long-obscured types of people to a segment of the public unaccustomed to seeing them?”

After all, American politics has always had its “paranoid style,” and the American right has always had a sizable tendency towards unhinged conspiratorialism, from the John Birch Society to Goldwater Republicans.

Social media may not be making more of these yahoos, but rather, making them visible to the wider world, and to each other, allowing them to make common cause and mobilize their adherents (say, to carry tiki torches through Charlottesville in Nazi cosplay).

If that’s true, then elite calls to “fight disinformation” are unlikely to do much, except possibly inflaming things. If “disinformation” is really people finding each other (not infecting each other) labelling their posts as “disinformation” won’t change their minds.

Worse, plans like the Biden admin’s National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism lump 1/6 insurrectionists in with anti-pipeline activists, racial justice campaigners, and animal rights groups.

Whatever new powers we hand over to fight disinformation will be felt most by people without deep-pocketed backers who’ll foot the bill for crack lawyers.

Here’s the key to Bernstein’s argument: “One reason to grant Silicon Valley’s assumptions about our mechanistic persuadability is that it prevents us from thinking too hard about the role we play in taking up and believing the things we want to believe. It turns a huge question about the nature of democracy in the digital age — what if the people believe crazy things, and now everyone knows it? — into a technocratic negotiation between tech companies, media companies, think tanks, and universities.”

I want to “Yes, and” that.

My 2020 book How To Destroy Surveillance Capitalism doesn’t dismiss the idea that conspiratorialism is on the rise, nor that tech companies are playing a key role in that rise — but without engaging in criti-hype.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

In my book, I propose that conspiratorialism isn’t a crisis of what people believe so much as how they arrive at their beliefs — it’s an “epistemological crisis.”

We live in a complex society plagued by high-stakes questions none of us can answer on our own.

Do vaccines work? Is oxycontin addictive? Should I wear a mask? Can we fight covid by sanitizing surfaces? Will distance ed make my kind an ignoramus? Should I fly in a 737 Max?

Even if you have the background to answer one of these questions, no one can answer all of them.

Instead, we have a process: neutral expert agencies use truth-seeking procedures to sort of competing claims, showing their work and recusing themselves when they have conflicts, and revising their conclusions in light of new evidence.

It’s pretty clear that this process is breaking down. As companies (led by the tech industry) merge with one another to form monopolies, they hijack their regulators and turn truth-seeking into an auction, where shareholder preferences trump evidence.

This perversion of truth has consequences — take the FDA’s willingness to accept the expensively manufactured evidence of Oxycontin’s safety, a corrupt act that kickstarted the opioid epidemic, which has killed 800,000 Americans to date.

If the best argument for vaccine safety and efficacy is “We used the same process and experts as pronounced judgement on Oxy” then it’s not unreasonable to be skeptical — especially if you’re still coping with the trauma of lost loved ones.

As Anna Merlan writes in her excellent Republic of Lies, conspiratorialism feeds on distrust and trauma, and we’ve got plenty of legitimate reasons to experience both.

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

Tech was an early adopter of monopolistic tactics — the Apple ][+ went on sale the same year Ronald Reagan hit the campaign trail, and the industry’s growth tracked perfectly with the dismantling of antitrust enforcement over the past 40 years.

What’s more, while tech may not persuade people, it is indisputably good at finding them. If you’re an advertiser looking for people who recently looked at fridge reviews, tech finds them for you. If you’re a boomer looking for your old high school chums, it’ll do that too.

Seen in that light, “online radicalization” stops looking like the result of mind control, instead showing itself to be a kind of homecoming — finding the people who share your interests, a common online experience we can all relate to.

I found out about Bernstein’s article from the Techdirt podcast, where he had a fascinating discussion with host Mike Masnick.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20210928/12593747652/techdirt-podcast-episode-299-misinformation-about-disinformation.shtml

Towards the end of that discussion, they talked about FB’s Project Amplify, in which the company tweaked its news algorithm to uprank positive stories about Facebook, including stories its own PR department wrote.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/22/kropotkin-graeber/#zuckerveganism

Project Amplify is part of a larger, aggressive image-control effort by the company, which has included shuttering internal transparency portals, providing bad data to researchers, and suing independent auditors who tracked its promises.

I’d always assumed that this truth-suppression and wanton fraud was about hiding how bad the platform’s disinformation problem was.

But listening to Masnick and Bernstein, I suddenly realized there was another explanation.

Maybe Facebook’s aggressive suppression of accurate assessments of disinformation on its platform are driven by a desire to hide how expensive (and profitable) political advertising it depends on is pretty useless.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_(41793470192).jpg

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic

[eyoricka]

Secret dating - Pete Davidson x singer!reader

First thing, I am sorry for my rather long absence I was moving to another country and way to stress. But now I have to spend ten days in quarantine so I will try to catch up and write all the asks I received in the meantime. So sorry for the delay and I hope the waiting will worth it!!

Also this is the first part of a small series about Pete x singer!reader because I had few asks on this theme! Hope you will enjoy

 Words: 1600+

Warning: none I guess

You had been dating Pete for few months. You decided to keep it low profile. It wasn’t really a secret; your friends and families were aware that you were together but you didn’t want the whole world to know. You had seen Pete’s debacle with his exes, and he witnessed yours. You both agreed to not to make it public this soon since you wanted to avoid paps, gossips articles, harassment online and to hear everybody’s opinion. You were surprised that no one caught the two of you or speculated on your relationship. Maybe the both of you being friends for years, evolving within the same circle of people helped you. When people saw the two of you strolling, getting ice cream together, no magazines titled about how cute this date was but rather on how good it was for you to have such good friends in your life.

These past couple of weeks, it had been hard to spend some quality time with Pete. You had to flew to LA to assist to the Grammys and you missed your boyfriend so much through out the ceremony. You wished that you could have hold his hands during the stressful waiting, kissed him when you heard your name, thanked him when you gave your acceptance speech or feel his hand drawing absurd figure in your back to relax you while you were waiting to perform. Then after going back to New York, you hadn’t had that much time. Your publicist had packed you with interviews and gigs during late night shows. It was tiring but worth it. Your career was on a clear path to success. You were finally considered as not another pop star but one of the biggest artists out there. Pete was so supportive of you. You lived for his lovely text messages to give you strength before each performance or his compliments on how beautiful you looked on TV, how smart your answers were, how funny you were during an interview game.

You had eventually managed to find an afternoon just for you and Pete. You enjoyed a home-cooked meal at his place and could help but melt every time he was laughing while recounting his week. You simply spend the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons. It was your way to decompress together. Pete would always prepare some snacks while you set everything up. Then you would lose at least ten minutes to choose which cartoons or movies to watch. You usually had long debate on whether SpongeBob was better than Scooby-doo. Pete would always take you in his arms while you were watching, peppering your neck with kisses and smelling your hair. He liked the smell of your shampoo arguing that it reminded him of happiness. That was so cliché and yet so adorable, you couldn’t make fun of this cheesiness.

You were slowly falling asleep engulfed by Pete’s warmth, this was cozy, it felt like home. Suddenly, you heard your phone buzzed and sighed. It was your agent, asking you where you were to pick you up to go an interview. You texted her your address while you looked for something to put on for the TV. You liked very much the clothes you had on but you doubted that their shades would be nice on camera. As you were researching the perfect outfit in underwear, trying on several combo, you congratulated yourself for letting some clothes at your boyfriend’s place. You were hesitating between two tops and asked Pete’s opinion. After a quick joke on how good you looked in underwear and that you probably should go like this, he made up his mind for the baby blue top.

You rushed outside to be picked by your team but not before sharing a sweet but passionate kiss with Pete and agreeing to spend the night at your place after the show. Your team smiled at you knowingly as you entered the car but they didn’t make any comment on your relationship. You discussed the show, the possible questions and what the best answers would be… The ride was pretty quiet after that and you soon arrived at the building where the show was taped. You were warmly welcomed by the host. You had already done some interviews with him, he was easy to talk to, always made you comfortable and was rather fun to be around. He lead you to the make-up artist trailer who didn’t fail to notice your tired look but promised you that it was nothing than a bit of foundation and powder could hide. Indeed, after only 15 minutes there you were glowing, looking fresh, like a fairytale princess leaving her bed.

As you were waiting to be called on stage, you received a message from Pete telling you that he was excited to see you on the show, that no matter what you were the best and that he was eager to see you tonight to finish the nap you had started together. You quickly replied before entering the stage. The interview went rather smoothly. You had begun with questions about your last album and upcoming project teasing a possible collab with Taylor Swift. The crowd went wild at this info and you knew that you would certainly end up in top tweets. After a commercial, you played a game with the host where you had to sing a random song imitating another artist. Clearly, it was not your forte, but you were funny enough to make it a good moment to watch. Then, you proceeded to answers some more interrogations from the public that could be found on social media. Those questions were a lot more personal and globally more focused on your art, compositions, writing skills, inspiration. You were passionate, your eyes were big with enthusiasm and you did a lot of gesture with your hand with made the host smile.

You were so happy that when a question about your dating life came up, you didn’t think twice before saying “Well I am the luckiest person, I have my dream career and dating Pete Davidson is just the cherry on the top, you know. He is just so perfect for me, like me understand and support each other, it just so great when you can share all those moments with someone you love and trust.” As you finished your rant, you noticed how the host was staggered. You finally realized what you had revealed and blushed furiously. “Did you just announce publicly that you are dating SNL cast member Pete Davidson?”. It was like words were dying in your throat and you envisioned Pete’s reaction at this. Surely it was not how you had planned to go public. You nodded shyly and the show stopped there. The host thanks the audience who was visibly thrilled, and you made your way backstage. You compulsively checked your phone every five seconds waiting for a text from your now very public boyfriend. But none came and it was worse. You felt so bad, you never wanted to put him in such a position, you were not sure that he was ready to go public, face the world’s reaction but here you were because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

Your team drove you back to your place assuring you that it was okay, he couldn’t be mad at you for this but actually he legitimately could. They insist that you should check your social media, people were very supportive of you, saying that you were so cute together, goals… however you didn’t think that it was a good idea right now, you head spinning with the prospect to face Pete.

You silently entered your house waiting for Pete to arrive, a huge lump in your stomach. You felt so guilty, obviously you had to ruin everything, didn’t you. You were in your kitchen drinking a hot cocoa to calm your nerve when you heard Pete unlocked your front door with his spare keys. You didn’t dare to approach him and let him come in the room, your hands shaking so bad that you had spilled some hot beverage on it. You didn’t really feel the burning sensation, you were too scared of what he would say. To make it even more torturing he remained silent as he glanced at you. he eventually approached you and put away your cup as he took your injured hand in his. He put it under cold water and you let him do it, not understanding what was happening. “Do you think that I hate you or that I am angry at you for making it public without talking about it first?” he stated more than questioned as he stood behind you with his hand on yours. “Yes” you sighed looking down. He made you turned to face him and since you were still not looking at him, he put gently his hand on your face and lift it up. His face was so calm and soft, not what you were expecting at all. “I don’t mind, I mean sure it would have been better to discuss it and find a way together to announce it but you didn’t did on purpose. You were just so excited and you didn’t really think of it so I can’t blame you. I certainly would have done the same. Also, how I can be mad at someone who is so cute and so adorable when talking about me. You know what you say about us, it means a lot to me, a lot more than you can imagine. I love you, okay, and I don’t care if the whole world knows as long as you know it.” He smiled down at you and brushed away some tears that you hadn’t realize where rolling down your face. He cusped your cheeks and kissed your forehead as you buried yourself in his shirt.

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fanfic #pete davidson imagine #snl fanfic #fluff

[ediths]

The View From Both Sides of The Mirror

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 23.5k

Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?

Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself

A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!

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*

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.

The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.

There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.

The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 

The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.

Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).

And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.

Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.

He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 

But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.

There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 

The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.

That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.

Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.

Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.

So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.

You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 

Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.

Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.

It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.

It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.

It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.

You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.

You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.

So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.

You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.

He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.

He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.

But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 

He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.

*

When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.

However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.

To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.

You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.

When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 

You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.

Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 

They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.

After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.

Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..

*

You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.

You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.

If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.

By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.

Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?

You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.

You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.

You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.

The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.

“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).

It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.

You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 

You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.

You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.

*

What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.

He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 

You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.

You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.

You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.

“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.

“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”

“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.

“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 

He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 

You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 

The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.

The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.

Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”

“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.

*

The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.

You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.

You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.

Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 

Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.

You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.

After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you

*

Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.

“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.

That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.

She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.

Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.

You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.

Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.

You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.

And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 

Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 

She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 

Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.

“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.

“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.

Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 

You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.

You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.

Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.

*

It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.

We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X

You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.

You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.

When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 

You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.

“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.

You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 

He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.

The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 

“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.

You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.

You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 

You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.

You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.

The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 

Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.

“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.

“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.

“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.

He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 

He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.

For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 

So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.

You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.

You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 

You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 

Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.

It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?

Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.

Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.

“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.

“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 

“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.

“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?

“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?

“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.

“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.

“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.

“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 

“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.

“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?

“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.

You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.

“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 

He scoffs, “Yes you are.”

“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,

“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”

After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”

He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.

“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.

“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.

“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?

“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.

“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”

If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”

“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.

“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 

You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”

That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.

“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.

Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.

He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.

“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 

He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.

For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.

You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.

You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 

You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.

Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 

You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.

You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.

You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 

You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.

You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”

“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.

“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.

“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.

You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”

You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.

You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.

“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.

He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.

“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.

His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 

You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 

Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.

“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.

You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.

*

What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.

You rush down to where they are.

“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 

You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”

Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.

“Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.

“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.

“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.

*

It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.

“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.

“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.

You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”

With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.

After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”

You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”

He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.

You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.

The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.

*

You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 

As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.

“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?

“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 

“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.

“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.

“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?

“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.

“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 

You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.

You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 

Could he really care about you?

If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?

How does he expect to make this up to you?

You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 

Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 

But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.

Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.

Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.

You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.

You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 

Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.

*

Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 

The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.

The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 

You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?

“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.

“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.

“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”

“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.

“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.

“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.

“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.

“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.

“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.

“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.

“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.

“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Alright.” you grin “H.”

The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 

 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.

“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.

“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.

“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 

“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.

“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.

“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.

“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.

You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.

You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.

His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.

It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.

After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.

He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.

He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.

You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.

He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.

“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.

“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.

“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.

Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.

He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 

The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 

God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.

Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.

He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.

He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.

“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”

“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”

He sighs, “Never hated you.”

You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”

“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”

You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 

“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.

“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.

“Hmm?” he wonders.

You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”

A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.

He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.

You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.

RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.

You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 

After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.

He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 

You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.

“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.

“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.

“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.

“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 

“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.

“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.

“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.

You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.

“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.

“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.

“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.

“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.

It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.

Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 

You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.

But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.

Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.

You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.

As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 

You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.

When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 

He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.

“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”

“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.

He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 

“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.

“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.” You say.

You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.

For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.

*

After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.

Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.

Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.

“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.

“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.

If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.

After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.

As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.

*

When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 

Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.

Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.

“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.

“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.

“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”

You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.

After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.

He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”

Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”

*

When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.

“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.

You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.

Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”

He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”

“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”

He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”

You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.

“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”

“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.

“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.

“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”

You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 

“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 

You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”

You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.

“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.

You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.

You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.

“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”

The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”

“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”

The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.

“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.

“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.

“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 

You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.

“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.

“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”

You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.

Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.

You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.

After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 

*

The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.

When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.

They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.

You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 

You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.

You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.

Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”

You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.

“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”

You smile at his observational skills. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”

You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.

You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.

You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.

He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.

“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 

After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.

You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.

“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.

“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”

“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”

He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 

You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.

You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.

“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.

“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.

Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.

He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.

You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.

You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.

You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 

“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.

He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.

“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 

Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.

You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.

You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.

Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.

“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.

“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.

“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”

“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.

The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 

Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.

You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.

The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.

You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?

Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.

“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.

You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 

“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.

“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”

The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.

He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.

You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 

After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.

Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.

“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”

He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.

“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.

“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.

“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.

All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.

“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.

You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”

You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.

“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.

After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.

“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”

“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.

You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 

You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.

You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 

“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 

The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.

“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”

You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 

After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 

Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 

“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.

“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.

“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.

You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.

“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.

“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.

“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.

“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.

After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”

He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”

You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”

You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.

“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”

He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”

“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.

You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”

His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”

“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.

“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.

“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.

He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”

Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”

HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”

“I’m getting there.” You admit.

“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.

You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.

He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.

“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.

He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.

Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.

“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.

He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.

Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”

He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.

After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”

“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 

You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.

But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.

Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep

*

You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.

“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.

“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”

You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 

You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.

Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.

“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.

“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.” You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.

He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.

“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.

“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.

“Which part?” You say, playing coy.

“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”

You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”

You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.

After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.

*

After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.

“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.

On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.

He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.

He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”

You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.

In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.

As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 

You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”

“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.

“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”

“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.

“Calm down, H.” You urge.

“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 

“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”

“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.

“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”

“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”

“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.

“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.

“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.

“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”

“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.

“Deal.” He says without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.

“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.

“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.

“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.

*

After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.

You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 

“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.

He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 

“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.

“What?” How are they being so calm about this?

“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.

How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 

*

A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 

The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 

Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.

*

Thank you for reading!! You can come discuss with me here!!

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[foodbytesback]

The Rise and Fall of Bon Appetit

Sometimes life comes at you fast.  Sometimes, that means stories in the food industry break in such rapid succession that you have no time to blink in between.  Sometimes, it means someone found out about something racist you did a few years ago.  What happens when it’s both?  Ask the fine folks at Bon Appetit.

In recent years, Bon Appetit made a name for itself, rising from the ashes of dying print media, through its Youtube channel featuring a diverse cast of personalities.  But over the course of this past week, many of the publication’s executives have been found to foster a toxic workplace culture, rife with racism, sexism and homophobia.  

Before I get too deep (because this is going to be a long one), I feel the need to point out that while this story’s breaking happened to coincide with Black Lives Matter protests across the country and gained traction from people’s outrage towards inequality, the events that have unfolded should not be blamed on “cancel culture,” “political correctness run amok” or any other reactionary dismissal of critical thinking.  Adam Rapoport didn’t lose his job because Black Lives Matter, Black Lives Matter came to be because of the damage that many in positions of power like Rapoport have done in both mainstream media and society as a whole.

[Also, yes, there are going to be a lot of links to Instagram posts that have been screenshotted and uploaded to Twitter.  Clearly the real takeaway from this debacle is that I need to get an Instagram account.  Also also, thanks to Tumblr’s new rules about offsite links, you’ll have to go to my main site for the full receipts.]

Preamble

Shortly after the killing of George Floyd, Adam Rapoport, Editor-in-Chief at Bon Appetit, wrote an editorial highlighting some of the coverage they’ve given to black chefs.  Many criticized this as being superficial and performative, with others saying that BA has, on numerous occasions, shut down articles relating to black culture for not being “trendy” enough or otherwise was discriminatory towards black employees. (Also, the repeated use of “uprisings” instead of “protests” seems a little suspicious.)

An article from Eater criticized the role BA played in the appropriating and whitewashing of many cultures’ ingredients and cuisines (gochujang, Aleppo pepper, and sumac seem to be some of BA’s favorite ingredients) that had become prevalent in food media in recent years.

While it’s a fairly minor offense in comparison, it may also be worth bringing up the time Rapoport accidentally called Priya Krishna “Sohla,” the name of his other Indian employee.

Monday, June 8th

Food writer Tammie Teclemariam posted a screencap of an Instagram post made by Rapoport’s wife, which depicted the two of them donning Puerto Rican stereotypes as Halloween costumes, brownface and all.    

Many were quick to declare their outrage and demand that Rapoport either resign or be fired.  Meanwhile, Sohla El-Waylly, one of the leading stars of the Youtube channel, was one of the first BA employees to speak up, and disclosed that this kind of behavior was just the tip of the iceberg.  She said that BIPOC workers have been paid disproportionately for their work, including not being paid a per-video commission that the white stars of the Youtube channel receive. 

Molly Baz, one of the aforementioned white stars, announced that she would no longer make videos for BA until all of El-Waylly’s demands were met.  One by one, their white coworkers chimed in in agreement.  

Former staff photographer Alex Lau also wrote an extensive tweet thread about his experiences at BA, including how he had futilely tried to fix the system from within.

By the end of Monday, Adam Rapoport had resigned from his position as Editor-in-Chief.

Tuesday, June 9th  

Since Rapoport’s official resignation did little to fix many of the systemic problems in place at BA, many began to turn their attention to other senior members of the staff.

Some came for Andrew Knowlton, the Restaurant Editor, for behaviors such as gaslighting an employee for trying to bring up racist practices in the offices.

Others called out Matthew Duckor, a VP at Conde Nast and BA’s former “Head of Video” (Did a 3 year old come up with that job title?), for a series of old racist and homophobic tweets.  He tried to apologize by saying that he was young and didn’t know any better at the time, but many were quick to point out that he was, at the youngest, 20, aka for all intents and purposes An Adult when he wrote those tweets. 

Tammie Teclemariam returned to ask current and former BA employees to DM her information about Duckor that they didn’t want to go public with themselves, ranging from his hand in the aforementioned pay disparity to making inappropriate comments towards women.

Teclemariam also did even more social media muckraking and found that Drinks Editor Alex Delany had once decorated a cake to look like a Confederate flag, while others found things like a Vine where he says the f-slur and some questionable comments about women on this Tumblr.  He later deleted his Tumblr and Twitter, and issued a cookie-cutter apology on his Instagram.

She also vague-tweeted that Brad Leone, one of the most beloved stars of the Youtube channel, is “possibly not a great guy,” but later added, “don’t fret.” At that point, some began to accuse her of just trying to stir the pot.

Ultimately, Matt Hunziker, director and camera operator for Leone’s show, reported that the higher ups were ignoring the situation regarding the pay disparity, and that they were not “learning and growing.”

Wednesday, June 10th

By this point, journalists were able to do more thorough investigations and put together exposés that were more than a blurb about an accusation followed by a nut graph.

Business Insider published an article where they interviewed 14 current and former BIPOC employees of Bon Appetit.  In addition to information already discussed above, it also described events such as an incident where several BIPOC staffers were told they weren’t allowed the test kitchen. (Carla Lalli Music, the Food Director at the time, would later defend her stance in the affair on Twitter.)  Ryan Walker-Hartshorn, a black woman who served as Rapoport’s personal assistant, recalled that she would often spend her day doing menial tasks like polishing her boss’s golf clubs or trying to teach his wife how to use Google Calendar.  In another incident, Knolton called Rick Martinez a “one trick pony” for only developing Mexican recipes, which is what he was being forced to do so BA could tout “diversity” bonus points.  Martinez would also say that the magazine under Rapoport’s tenure “went from old and irrelevant and white-washed content to young and trendy white-washed content." (Martinez would also upload a more graphic description of the treatment he received  to his Instagram that same day.) Later that day, Business Insider would also report that Duckor had left the company.

Vice would liken Rapoport to Michael Scott from The Office, but noted that that kind of bumbling, endearingly insensitive bad boss archetype isn’t as charming in the real world where real employees are being affected.  Parallels were also drawn between the Youtube channel and The Office itself, stating that the “quirky workplace” facade put on in the videos helped hide the more sinister practices that lurked beneath the surface, and that the notion that they were “one big family” often pressured BIPOC into doing more than their fair share for the greater good.

Jezebel showed email transcripts where Rapoport argued the semantics of having his costume be called “brownface” when he wasn’t wearing makeup, and had to be explained to, like a child, that the term refers to the racist caricature and not the literal act of putting brown makeup on one’s face.  What a douche.

Bon Appetit published an official apology on their site, a whole two days after the controversy began.  Many believed that their empty promises of “learning from their mistakes” were a day late and a dollar short.

Meanwhile, on Twitter, former BA writer Alyse Whitney said that senior editor Andy Baraghani had, on several occasions, used his influence to undermine her efforts. Whether this had to do with racism, sexism, or just Andy being petty is up for debate, but still constitutes as unprofessional behavior to say the least.

Thursday, June 11th

As interest in the story seemed to wane for many in the industry, Claire Saffitz, arguably the face of the Youtube channel, released another statement on her Instagram.  She said that her relative silence was due to taking time to find the right words, and that the same-old promises to “learn and grow” that most had been giving felt empty and performative. Unlike many of her white coworkers, she directly apologized for being complicit in the toxic environment  and for not using her status to try to leverage even pay for her BIPOC coworkers.  

Another BA Youtube personality, Amiel Stanek, also released a statement in response to BA’s official press release, where he demanded Conde Nast to stop avoiding action by setting vague timelines for changes or making excuses for not giving BIPOC workers raises like “the money just isn’t there.”

Associate editor Christina Chaey also opened up about her experiences with being pushed into more and more videos to “diversify” them- all without compensation.  

Friday, June 12th

The biggest scandal of the day was that, as Teclemariam predicted, Brad Leone is possibly not a great guy.  A leaked screenshot of an Instagram DM showed him making callous, almost Trump-y comments regarding El-Waylly’s demand for better pay.  He also allegedly said that if Delany were to be fired (as of that day he had been sent on leave), he would quit.

Saturday, June 13th

The New York Times published an article suggesting that the issues prevalent in BA’s management may go all the way to the top of Conde Nast.  Highlights include Chief Executive Roger Lynch chastising the whistleblowers within the company for raising their concerns in such a public manner and an account of an incident where he gave his black assistant a guidebook on how to speak “proper” English.

The Sporkful released a special episode of their podcast containing interviews with several current and former BA BIPOC workers.  Nikita Richardson divulged that after she was laid off, a story she had already done all the leg work for was picked up and credited to Amanda Shapiro, a white staff writer who is now acting Editor-in-Chief in lieu of Rapoport.  Sohla El-Waylly confirmed that the self-congratulatory editorial Rapoport wrote in the wake of George Floyd’s death was the real beginning of the end, and that the racist photo was just the final straw.  She also described a company-wide Zoom meeting held after the photo began to be spread around where Rapoport issued a half-hearted apology, and began talking about how he would “fix the brand” before El-Waylly demanded he resigned.  Furthermore, she revealed that after her Instagram posts began circulating rapidly, Duckor had offered her a new contract with increased pay, but she is refusing to sign it until all BIPOC have received similar compensation.  She also said that she had a hand in the wishy-washy statement that BA had published on Wednesday, and said that it originally had taken much firmer stances on the issues but their PR office made them tone it down.  Also, she commented that Leone, for the most part, just seemed like she “genuinely think[s] [that he] just found out racism is real.”  Ultimately, she was glad that the story was getting as much coverage as it was, since it made her feel that her voice was finally being heard.

Sunday, June 14th

Baraghani released a statement on Instagram apologizing for his behavior, saying that trying to achieve his personal goals in BA’s toxic, competitive environment made him lose sight of solidarity with his fellow BIPOC.  

While that may seem like the end of the story for now, it’s important to note that, even with the resignation of two executives, nothing has truly been done to fix the systemic problems at hand.

#bon appetit #adam rapoport #matt duckor #alex delany #sohla el waylly #molly baz #carla lalli music #andy baraghani #brad leone #clair saffitz #amiel stanek #tw racism #tw homophobia #tw sexism

[secretgamergirl]

A Little Horrifying Primer on Transphobes

Some time ago, I put together a Little Fact Checking Primer on Trans People, as a basic resource for disabusing people of some of the many completely ridiculous yet absurdly widespread beliefs about trans people that simply have no basis whatsoever in reality. And wouldn’t you know it, every single lie exposed in that primer is not only still widely believed, but is presently being used as a basis to sign some absolutely horrific human rights abuses into law. So it’s high time I follow that up, in this case focused more on who keeps actively spreading these lies and why. I’m going to try and keep things as light as I can here, but we’re going to be looking at the most monstrous side of human nature, so apologies in advance if this is a dark read.

First, let me just note that there are two things I don’t plan to do in this piece. I’m not going to waste time debunking the arguments of the people I’m highlighting (much of this is already covered in my earlier primer, others have done the work in cases where I haven’t, and frankly these people’s claims should be self-evidently utter nonsense to begin with). I am also going to be very selective in what I link to, or even share related images of, as I would frankly not like to fill a post on a blog I generally try to keep safe for all audiences with media directly dealing with, for instance, child sexual assault, and much of the relevant information also involves stochastic terrorism against innocent people, and I would prefer not to throw more fuel onto such fires.

Transphobes lie constantly, about everything.

To some degree this is obvious. We’re talking about people who scaremonger about the possibilities of trans women dominating competitive sports and assaulting people in restrooms, despite the status quo already reflecting the conditions they insist would make these inevitibilities for decades and centuries respectively, and their grim visions never once having come to pass, and also constantly insisting that the woman in the photo below is actually a man, going further to say this is evident to anyone giving her the merest glance.

It goes beyond that though. There’s at least a little plausible deniablity in claims like this, or that “science is on their side” if they were simply uninformed about the world they live in, never actually looking into what laws exist, what science actually says, and never actually meeting a trans person or even seeing a picture of one of us. I’m talking really bold lies here. Like wholecloth fabricating a story that a convicted murder was trans, including anecdotes about wigs dresses and a planned name change, in a major newspaper. Or to cite an old favorite of mine, the time a pack of bigots walked up to a crowd of people peacefully picketing a transphobic legal proposal, started roughing them up and taking closeup photos of members of the crowd to stalk online when they got home, got sufficiently riled up for one to straight up assault an innocent person half her size, filmed the whole thing, uploaded it to youtube, and used stills of that assault as acomanying photos when they went home to write articles about the assailant being a “grandmother” attacked by rowdy trans women. And yes, they did monkey’s paw my wish to see that specific image on newspapers. Interesting side note, when it came to real public light that J.K. Rowling endorsed this sort of hatred, it was because she accidentally pasted some profanity laden rambling about how the imagined moral character of the other party in that incident, years after the fact, into a post praising a child’s fan art of her work.

To be a little less niche, transphobes can’t get enough of spreading the lie that the young fellow in this photo is a girl. Specifically a trans girl, providing proof that all their scaremongering about the dastardly threat of trans girls in competitive sports has finally come to pass.

To be fully clear, that’s a man (or a boy if you want to split hairs about him being 17 in that photo). Mack Beggs. A rather insidious choice for this sort of story, considering the actual context for that photo. See, Beggs attended high school in Texas, during a (still ongoing as I write this) period wherein that particular state had caved to this exact sort of propaganda, and in order to head off a wholly imagined wave of trans girls competing on girls’ sports teams, and enacted a law mandating that in all such competitions must compete under whatever gender is stated on their birth certificates. And as it happens, the first, and to my knowledge ONLY time this has come up was with Beggs here, who again, is a man, as no one with a grip on reality could argue against, has “female” on his birth certificate. Which is another way of saying he is a trans man. The guys in the same boat as trans women who we talk about a whole hell of a lot less because their existence is extremely inconvenient to the majority of transphobic propaganda. Case in point. And this is all information it is really impossible to come across if you’re coming across this photo in any sort of respectable source. Take this story, which is as unambiguous about this as you can get. And yet, in the very comments section of that story, there they are. Carrying on like this story about a trans guy, forced by a transphobic law to compete as a girl, which he absolutely did not want, and received horrific threats over, using phrases like “female to male” and bringing up that he was assigned female at birth and is on testosterone-based HRT, is about a trans woman cheating the system. Or to quote word for word, “Now also transgender female want to be male also compete in female sport. biological born“ That’s not “being confused,” that’s standing next to you in a white desert and complaining about being adrift in a black ocean, bald-faced, not even trying to be convincing just make a power play, lying through one’s teeth.

I could spend this whole article on just this point. Lying about who they are, various people’s falsified credentials, whole websites full of “anonymous parents of children who think they’re trans” turning out to be one single woman documenting the abuse of her very much trans son, or of course the people behind the whole “bathroom bill” panic candidly admitting it was all based on utter fiction. I do have other points to cover though.

Transphobes are firmly entrenched in the media.

It is extremely difficult to find oneself in a position of having to explain to people that a particular group of people is effectively in control of press outlets, as that is rather classically a claim conspiracy theorists absolutely love to toss around at various marginalized groups (including trans people hilariously enough, but of course the most common and lingering version of this is the antisemitic variant). I really can’t get around it here though. Specifically in the U.K., you honestly can say that transphobes control the media. I already touched on this with the assault case I mentioned above and the fabricated story about the murderer, but this is a pretty well-documented situation. I mean, even The Guardian calls out The Guardian on this, and that’s the outlet that gets the most attention because it’s the one with the most otherwise respected name, but every paper in the country has been running transphobic propaganda pieces on a weekly if not daily basis for years now, and while they do get reprimanded by watchdog groups and have mass walk-outs over the worst of it, it’s not like there’s some governing body with the authority to step in about it. Meanwhile the BBC is constantly inviting diehard zealots like Graham Linehan to news programs where he compares being trans to being a nazi, and hosting debates where someone just sits down and repeatedly chants the word “penis” at a trans woman.

Things are better in the rest of the world, but we still have right-wing creeps like Jesse Singal both writing horrific propaganda pieces (we’ll get back to that one) and blackballing trans writers out of covering trans issues ourselves (and personally stalking the hell out of those of us who try). We’ve got our Joe Rogans and Tucker Carlsons out there (no way in hell I’m linking videos here, have a real information link and a still).

The line between diehard transphobes and straight-up nazis basically does not exist.

What even is there to say here? You can easily poke around havens for nazi activity for yourself and compare the particular unique vocabulary used there to the primary bastion of anti-trans hate speech on the internet (the “feminism” section of what was originally a site for parenting tips before violent fascists took the forums over) or just peruse the follows of the thousands of people I’ve blocked on social media and see if you can sort out a clear division in the networks of channers with frog avatars and the accounts with names like GoodieXXrealwoman, or you can read up on Gab and Spinster, the two twitter alternatives that are just different portals to the same server, set up by the same guy. Maybe do some research into “the LGB Alliance,” or WoLF but any way you slice it the only real difference to be found is the general purpose nazis take a little time off now and then to watch borderline pedophilic anime and the really dedicated transphobes think to use language that sounds vaguely well-educated and left-leaning. I mean, this came from the “feminist” side of the fence:

And not to belabor the point here, but the ones claiming to be a bunch of “feminist mums” sure do let the mask slip any time they’re confronted with the fact that “women” includes black women, and oh just have a whole thread about all the weird conspiratory theories these people have about how trans people’s whole existence is some sort of Jewish plot for world domination. I swear a few months ago they were all passing around a story about some bank having an above average number of trans employees and they were all just “and we all know who controls the banks, right?” about it.

Transphobes endorse an awful lot of people who are openly pro-pedophila.

This is the part where I am really loath to link the many many specific examples I have on hand. Or to talk about this at all for reasons of good taste. Or, for that matter, to talk about this in a tumblr post when there’s an ongoing problem of people with backgrounds strongly tied to this site making baseless accusations of pedophilia against every queer person they can find, so let me be very clear just what I’m talking about while avoiding anything too graphic.

That’s James Cantor. Transphobes love him for being one of the closest things they have to a scientist on their side. And I am featuring him in a screenshot here showing that he is followed by current queen of the transphobes J.K. Rowling, while speaking to both another big name in transphobic circles, Debra Soh, and based on their names, what I’m guessing is at least one straight-up nazi. And in case you think “the P” he’s talking about adding to LGBT (or “GLBT” as weird anti-queer bigots who also have issues with women often write it) might stand for “poly” or “pan” he’s all too happy to clarify that.

This is the entire thrust of Cantor’s work and life. He is the world’s biggest pedophile rights advocate. He wants it declassified as a mental disorder, all stigma on it removed, and tirelessly pushes forward the idea that the majority of.. people who feel compelled to sexually assault children are good people who present no potential harm to anyone and should in fact be lauded.

I am not generally one to claim that someone with a PhD is spewing out questionable garbage with regard to their field, but the reason I am aware of Cantor at all is that other transphobes keep trying to hold up a particular post on his blog as "a study” (which it is not) that offers “proof” (in the form of a blurry jpeg of basically some random numbers) of some ridiculous quackery about how trans kids will “grow out of it” if exposed to conversion therapy (another way of saying torture), which Cantor himself seems to be pushing, so I am somewhat skeptical of his academic chops. And I am, of course, REALLY suspicious that all these other bigots gravitate to him purely because they’re that desperate to find anyone with a PhD in anything that backs them up against literally every scientist in a relative field, to the point that they merely forgive his particular advocacy they are plainly all aware of, particularly when such a common fig leaf used by transphobes is “keeping children safe from sexual deviants.”

And of course, Cantor is most often invoked when coming to the defense of Kenneth Zucker. This Kenneth Zucker.

Those are separate papers. Zucker isn’t controversial though for organizing panels to discuss how attractive people agree small children are (at least not exclusively). Mostly, he’s known for running a conversion therapy center which subjected gay and trans children to various sorts of torture in an effort to “fix” them, which at least for those trans "patients” I have spoken with involved a fair amount of having them strip completely naked and talking a lot about their genitals.

Zucker is something of a controversial figure with the transphobic scene, as they are extremely on board with his sexual torture of queer children, but he does actual work (for some value of the term) involving trans people and thus is not able to commit as fully as they would prefer to making life horrible for trans people, due to a professional obligation to acknowledge reality now and then. As an aside, the similarly positioned Ray Blanchard, while not to my knowledge particularly interested in the attractiveness of children, lives in a similar purgatory of trying to reconcile his career, bigotry, and sexual hangups, yielding compromises like this:

Of course, that’s just looking at the straws transphobes grasp at when looking for scientific credibility. Real leaders of the movement include Germaine Greer, author of The Beautiful Boy, which is about what you are afraid it might be, and features a very young child in a cover feature he did not consent to posing for. Or Julie Bindel, who among other things is rather infamous for writing whole articles on subjects like whether a teenage girl she came across maybe has a huge penis you can totally see if you really squint at her skirt. Again, I will not share a link to go along with that one.

Transphobes terrorize and attempt to defund charities and other unambiguously good organizations.

Graham Linehan, previously best known for cowriting some sitcoms and possibly spending a year angling to get into my pants so awkwardly I didn’t pick up on it is now best known for trying to pull the plug on a children’s charity, in a story that somehow also involves Donkey Kong. Well, and the interview about nazis. And possibly the other interview about “defending me from nazis” until it got into his head that I might not be as young and hot as he imagined. Rather not link to a far right extremist youtube channel though.

There’s also a current effort to replace Stonewall (an organization named after the location where a pair of trans women kicked off a riot which is generally agreed to be the start of the LGBT+ rights movement) as the UK’s primary LGBT+ rights organization with the “LGB Alliance.” The hate group mentioned above, with the skull face and the rifle. Closest I can find to an article on that effort on short notice that isn’t propaganda.

Transphobes paper areas in truly disgusting propaganda.

I don’t want to directly link to grown adults skulking around children’s playgrounds and bathrooms plastering surfaces with mass printed stickers of crudely drawn penises, but would encourage you to read this very long post, being sure to load all the images, to really understand how deeply strange this behavior gets.

Finally, I cannot stress this enough, this really extreme behavior I’m citing, and the specific people involved in the examples I’m giving, these aren’t random cranks on the fringe of things. The people going on televised panel discussions, writing up news stories, and testifying before lawmakers in efforts to pass horrifically discriminatory if not literally life-endangering laws (there is a major ongoing effort to legally end all medical care for trans people, and I don’t just mean care directly relating to being trans) are literally the same people involved in the sexualization of children, nazi collaborations, and roving gangs assaulting people in the street. At a bare minimum I urge people, when booking guests and handing out writing contracts, to do background checks and see if they’re platforming actual terrorists. If we could actually bring legal consequences to bear against the worst of this, that would be great too. As things stand though, the whole world is just consistently citing a bunch of racist, woman-hating, serial liars with no real credentials, and questionable attitudes towards the sexual abuse of children, as “trusted experts” and refusing to seat actual trans people or people who have legitimately committed lifetimes to academic and practical work with trans people any seats at the table.

#trans #transphobia #educational resources

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Relationship: Blurb

This wasn’t requested by anyone but the idea has been kicking around my head basically since I wrote the Ben POV chapter

Warnings for fluff and smut but it’s all very soft

5 Simple Rules Series Masterlist

Blurb Advent Day 1

Taglist since it’s part of a series: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies 

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless @friccinfricks 

Ben had it all planned out. He’d known how he was going to ask for a while, before he’d even picked out the ring. But, so far, he hadn’t been able to put his plan into action. As much as he wanted to ask it never quite felt like the right time. There was always something going on, somewhere to be – work or dinner with friends or general errands to sort out. But he knew how he wanted it to happen. He’d cook dinner, your favourite meal of course, followed by dessert made from scratch, really bring out the big guns. Afterwards he’d put on some music, a playlist of love songs he’d been adding to for months now, maybe ask you to dance. It was a little corny but sometimes corny was okay. Later on he’d pop into the kitchen and pull out your two mugs and place the ring in the bottom of yours before returning to the couch to sit with you. And then, at the usual time, he’d say he could really go with a hot drink before bed. He knew you’d volunteer to make them since he’d made dinner so he’d wait for you to leave the room before following. He’d listen for the gasp of surprise when you checked the mugs and saw the ring. That would be his cue to step into the room and get down on one knee and ask you to marry him. He had the speech ready to go too, knew what he wanted to say. How fast he’d fallen for you, how glad he was you were with him, how much he loved you.

Thinking about actually popping the question made Ben nervous. But the good kind of nervous. Of course the topic of weddings and marriage had come up before, abstractly. It was nearly unavoidable when his mum would not-so-subtly check for an engagement ring every time you visited, and then even less so when Gwilym got engaged and invited you both to the party. So he’d asked you about it, whether you had ever considered the whole settling down thing – marriage, kids, white picket fence, the lot. He was pleased to find out you liked the idea, had even imagined what the future might be like with him. The only thing you didn’t want was a public proposal which Ben fully supported. After all the attention you’d received as a result of the relationship, all the magazine articles and snapped photos while you were just trying to buy milk and bread, it felt wrong to voluntarily make such a private situation public. Ben was sure you’d be asked about it in future interviews and on social media and he wouldn’t mind sharing the story then, after he was sure you’d say yes. He had no reason to believe you wouldn’t but there was always that slight uncertainty, that intrusive doubt that made him wonder if you’d just tell him to bugger off instead. He found comfort in the plan though. Knowing exactly what he would do was reassuring. But even the best laid plans weren’t guaranteed.

Ben’s actual proposal caught him off guard as much as it did you. It was early on a Saturday, sometime between two and three. Usually you’d both be fast asleep but instead you were stumbling into the house, lit only by the grey light of the morning. You hadn’t meant to stay at the afterparty for so long but people kept handing you drinks and drawing you into conversations and music was still pumping through the speakers and before you knew it five more minutes had become a couple of extra hours. Ben emptied his pockets onto the hall stand as he watched you lean against the front door and kick off your shoes. He couldn’t resist catching you in a quick kiss before he wrapped his arm around you with a soft, “C’mon cuddle bunny,” and lead you towards the bathroom. Both of you set about brushing teeth and washing faces and changing into pyjamas. He chuckled as he watched you extract an almost obscene amount of bobby pins from your hair before you retied it to sleep in. But, even after everything was done and you’d both climbed under the covers, sleep didn’t come. Ben, eyes closed in an attempt to trick sleep into taking him, felt you move under his arm and peeked through his lashes to find you facing him.

“You okay?” His voice was hushed though there was no real need and when you responded yours was too.“Yeah just not really tired,” “Me neither,” “Do you wanna…?” “Now?” “Well just lying here waiting to drop off is a bit boring but I also don’t really feel like getting up,” “Alright then, why not.” “If you fall asleep half way through I won’t hold it against you,” “Shut up and take your pants off,” Ben laughed, already wriggling out of his. “You just didn’t sound very enthusiastic,” “I am always enthusiastic about this,” Ben forgot everything else he might have said as you pulled him into a kiss.

The sex itself was okay. Nothing special really. You’d had better sex plenty of other times, though you’d also had worse. The best way to describe it was fine. It wasn’t mind blowing but it was comfortable and reliable and fine. Ben felt a little clumsy as he kissed you back, his hand roaming over your side and down to your arse. He supposed the dark of the room and the drinks you’d both put down over the course of the night were having an impact, but, by the way you giggled against his lips, it seemed you found it cute more than anything else. To compensate for his inelegant fingers, Ben moved slowly, enjoying kissing you as much as he could. He hummed when you slid your hand down between your bodies and found his dick, stroking it unhurriedly. There wasn’t a need to go faster, no built up passion to release. The sex was a way to kill some time. Even when you hooked your leg over his and he sank into you, nothing really changed. But Ben knew what you liked and did his best to hit those spots as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you again. He decided he must be doing something right based off the small keening noises you made. All the same he didn’t expect your next outburst, said softly right against his lips.

“God Ben, I want you inside me forever,” It slipped out before he could second guess himself, “Then marry me,” “What?” Ben paused his movement, not totally sure he’d actually said it until he drew back enough to look at you and saw the stunned expression you wore. His heart pounded as he realised this was it, this was the moment, “Might be easier to do that if we’re married is all. So, will you? Will you marry me?” It took a few moments for the question to sink in but once it had you nodded in agreement. You felt the same. “Yes?” “Yes.” “Yeah? You’ll marry me?” “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you,” Ben broke out into a grin and swept you into another kiss though he cut it off abruptly, “Wait, hold on,” somewhat ungracefully Ben pulled out of you and rolled out of the bed, switching on a lamp and heading over to his chest of draws. He dug around in one for a moment before he pulled out a small box which he brought back to the bed. Kneeling in front of you, he popped the box open to show you the ring before taking it and sliding it onto your finger.

You couldn’t help but stare, holding you hand out in front of you to see how it looked. It was beautiful, not too over the top but not exactly understated either, and it fit perfectly. When you raised you eyes back to Ben’s face you noticed his eyes glistening. “I love it Ben, I love you,” “I love you too Y/N,” he whispered back, kissing you again and laying you back down.

As Ben sank back into you, you placed your hand on his chest, picking up his body heat except where the cool metal of the ring lay. You could feel his heart beating under your palm as he rolled his hips against you, trying to finish what you’d started. It took a little while longer, though things moved less slowly than they had before the interruption of the proposal. Ben dropped his fingers to your clit as he felt you getting closer, drawing gentle circles until the warm wave rolled through you, pulling a soft sigh from your lips. He kept his fingers there as if to try to give you another orgasm, maybe one not quite so soft, but you pulled his hand away, linking his fingers with yours as you kissed his throat and encouraged him to finish too. It didn’t matter that your orgasm hadn’t been particularly powerful. All that mattered was that Ben was with you and he always would be.

Afterwards you curled up, leaning your head on Ben’s chest, his arm around you. He sighed contentedly and kissed the top of your head. “So much for sleeping,” he chuckled. “What we did was better than sleep,” “Definitely. And if we hold out for a little longer we could watch the sunrise,” “I don’t know if I’ll last that long,” “No, me neither. It’d be nice though,” You agreed and lapsed into a comfortable silence. And then a thought struck you, “You know, we’re going to need a cover story,” “What?” “People are going to want to hear the story of how you proposed. Felicity, Joe, Gwil, the rest of our friends, our families, not to mention paparazzi and the press, they’ll all ask.”  “Fuck.” “So you don’t want to look your mother in the eye and explain it happened mid shag either? Good to know we’re on the same page,” Ben laughed, “Funnily enough, that was very unplanned. I had something much more romantic and better prepared in mind when I thought about how I’d do it. A whole big speech about you being the love of my life and how I want to spend every day of my life making you feel happy and safe and loved,” “Go on then, what was it,” Ben explained his original idea, about the dinner and the mugs, all the while playing with your fingers as if he didn’t want to break contact.  “That does sound wonderful, but I have to admit, I really love how it actually happened,” “Me too,” he laughed, “But that’s good. Because now we have a story to tell everyone and a slightly more accurate story just for ourselves.”

#my writing #my blurbs #blurb advent 2020 #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut #smut blurb

[thedreadvampy]

Ok please if you don’t mind saying - who is Stuart semple and what did he do? I’m so confused. Like I recognise the name and I think he might the an artist or something but I have no idea

He is indeed an artist! He’s a English multidisciplinary fine artist best known for his ongoing beef with English sculptor Anish Kapoor over the 2016 exclusive licensing on the process to make Vantablack colour coating, which meant Kapoor was the only artist allowed to use it. Then Stuart Semple made Pinkest Pink pigment and said it was available to everyone but Anish Kapoor, and there was a big blowup which there’s a lot of documentation of - it was very memed.

Since then, Semple has made a bunch more pigments, most of them with the available-to-everyone-but-Anish-Kapoor disclaimer, and the beef periodically flares up, although I will say as time goes on it seems to me to have got increasingly one-sided given that Kapoor has pretty much wandered off.

(I’ve used several of his colours, btw. Pinkest Pink is pretty good. Blackest Black, his attempt to make the blackest possible paint (as opposed to Vantablack which is a nanofibre coating) I was pretty disappointed in, I’ve honestly had better light capture from mid-range art shop paints. His other pigments vary in quality - some I really liked, some I was meh on, but I think Blackest Black is the only one I was actively unimpressed by)

Anyway. Where I come in is much less exciting. 

A few months ago I reblogged a post on Tumblr asking about Semple from a discourse tag (my reblog did not tag or @ anyone), and I made a glib comment where I said (very truthfully) that while I thought he was pretty decent at pigments, both his paintings and his online persona came across pretty adolescent to me.

so it turns out Stuart Semple is an inveterate name searcher (hi Stuart if you’re reading this!) 

(Side note: I actually should have guessed this from 2019 Twitter when he saw and commented on an untagged thread I wrote about him and Kapoor’s beef (which was because I’d seen an article in which Kapoor, a British-Asian man, said that the racist Prevent strategy was liable to drive young British-Asian men into the arms of terrorist groups by making it clear their country hates them reblogged on Semple’s account with a caption claiming Anish Kapoor was pro-terrorism, which, while tongue-in-cheek, isn’t a neutral statement for a white person to make about an Asian person and was a pretty phenomenally bad-faith reading of Kapoor’s actual words) and in my thread I pretty much said that when the story had broken, I, like everybody else, had found it very funny and been firmly on side with Semple’s bit, but I felt that a) after a couple of years it really wasn’t very relevant any more and it had started to feel less like Fighting The Power and more like bullying the amount of Semple’s web presence was devoted to talking about Anish Kapoor; b) that it was a shame that Anish Kapoor was increasingly only known as The Vantablack Guy given that I really like a lot of his work and c) that continuing to frame a Jewish person of colour as the Face of the Artistic Elite was a bit weird given how overwhelmingly white the high-end art world is. but I digress. Semple responded to that thread, I don’t really remember what he said, it wasn’t an acrimonious response but it was a bit Oh I Didn’t Do Anything To Tag You?)

so anyway he found my reblog and commented saying ehhh I don’t remember, something along the lines of not feeling like I was being very kind and that he was trying his best. also I think he said I had accused him of being racist? which again the actual Tumblr post literally just said I thought his art and persona came across as juvenile and I think in the tags? I mentioned that I thought it was time for him to step off the Kapoor beef. 

then he screencapped my post, including my profile picture and username, and posted it on all his socials with a kind of :( people are so mean on Tumblr :( caption and um

idk if you know this about Being A Public Persona With Tens Of Thousands of Followers but. if you post someone’s identity and say ‘I do not like what this person is doing’ it. can get messy fast.

uh I don’t follow Stuart Semple (see the original post I made) but he commented to make sure I knew he’d posted my post on Instagram and “all my followers like your wig :)” which. according to my partner who did go and look at the time, the Instagram comments were largely about how I was an ugly non-passing trans woman aka “man in a wig” which. throw the whole suitcase out. There were a good few days where I got a lot of angry anons, ranging from ‘stop bullying Stuart Semple!!!!!’ to ‘die in a ditch graphically’ to ‘how can you claim to have opinions on art when You Are On Tumblr’ (I have been a freelance illustrator for 7 years and I have a Masters in art and design) to ‘your art sucks and you’re fat and ugly’ and my personal favourite ‘how can u be cis and use she/her pronouns you dumb snowflake’

(within that furore was a whole branch where someone was like ‘sex worker huh bet you’re bad at it’ and I was like ‘yep! that’s why I don’t do it any more! it’s hard work and it involves a lot of self-promotion and customer skills which I don’t like and am not good at!’ and this was a Whole Thing where they kept trying to insult me (much like today’s anon) about my supposed failures as a Slut Who Is Bad At Sex and I kept going like ‘ok but here’s how that just. doesn’t make sense in reference to what sex work actually is so like, ok?’)

and Stuart Semple and I were also having a conversation which, depending on your perspective I would call his attitude either conciliatory or passive-aggressive, there was a lot of ‘me and my followers would never say rude things about you :) keep up the art kiddo :)’ and being charitable I would say he was trying to be nice while being angry, and to avoid escalating (but with the added context I got later about the wig comment, I think that interpretation of his behaviour maybe. has some cracks?) and ultimately he took down the posts, we had a brief conversation about keeping pet reptiles (apparently he has a lizard) and we left it on, if not good terms, at least peaceable ones. 

however I still periodically get messages about it from angry Semple stans. and I’m not sure the argument was resolved, in that I still very much think it’s fair to make criticism, including quite harsh criticism (which I’m not sure ‘adolescent’ is), on art which is put out for public display and enjoyment, and that it isn’t a personal attack to post a criticism of someone’s public-facing work and statements on social media unless you actively target it towards them (for example, @ ing them), and Semple still thinks there’s no difference between a random blog with under a thousand followers criticising a public figure’s work and a public figure with 100k followers on most platforms criticising that blog (out of context - he clipped out the post I was reblogging from and my explanatory tags, and looking at my blog you may notice that 90% of my nuance is in the tags) while giving his followers all the information to find said blog.

(also as multiple people have remarked. if you want to say it’s an unfair criticism to call your online presence immature, being a middle-aged artist who as far as I can tell has a net worth over a million who spends your time name searching yourself in order to get mad at untagged mild criticism from strangers on the internet and share it on all your socials for your followers to join you in Being Big Mad is uhhhhhhh. it uh. it’s not like. not super thin-skinned and immature)

(also also I just googled his net worth and unsurprisingly I can’t find a source on it I’d consider reliable, but I did find multiple articles about him getting in trouble for breach of contract and nonpayment for gallery employees, including two accusations of him writing a big defensive blog post then changing it after a few hours to a very short post saying I LOVE YOU so like idk how true that is but it does seem. consistent with the above interactions.)

[parkjess]

Hi! I’m back! Sorry if I’m getting annoying but you are kinda the only person I know of who does Astro reactions😅! But anyways I was wondering if you can do one with all the members when their s/o is also an idol and their relationship gets outed by the media? Thanks🤗!

Thank you for requesting!🥰

Don’t ever feel annoying for requesting🥺 I love it.

Myungjun:

You sat in front of you laptop at your place, staring at whatever site it was, becoming pale within seconds as your eyes flow over the words of the article you just clicked on with the speed of light.

The topic was your boyfriend, Myungjun, and the name that was attached to his, as only you and him used to see together, was yours.

Without leaving your eye sight from the bright screen, you dialed Myungjun’s number on the phone you didn’t even take a look at.

“Baby... did you see what they posted?” Your words come out as if you just saw a ghost. Your relationship wasn’t supposed to be published and both you and him always wear a mask and hat when you’re outside. Your voice became shaky as tears approached, yet your heart somehow felt a bit relieved that you don’t need to hide anymore from cameras.

-“Calm down baby, tell me what’s wrong? I’m coming over.” You heard him grabbing his car keys and heading to his car while listening to you on the other side of the phone.

“Myungjun, they saw us yesterday at the restaurant!” You freak out and try to relax at the same time, what doesn’t seem to be working. -“Oh...” was all he said, driving away the parking lot, luckily you lived only couple of minutes away. “What do you mean-“ the tone of your voice got higher and you nearly yell at him, don’t get how he can be this calm.

-“I’ll be there in 2 minutes, okay baby?” He says and hangs up because he was still driving.

Finally arriving at your place, he welcomed you with a hug. Neither one of you want this relationship to be publicly known, because you know how toxic people can be and make this end, no matter how powerful the love is.

-“Baby... you know that no matter what the internet people will say, or do, I won’t ever leave you. Okay?” He cups your face while looking straight into your eyes, you just nod at his words. -“Now, lets go get some fresh air at the park, you’ll like it, and don’t worry, paparazzi don’t go out this late at night.” He smiles at you and takes your hand.

Jinwoo:

It was a regular December evening you spent with Jinwoo at fantagio building, teaching him English because he was asking for help. Although you tried to focus on helping him, the news you got from your best friend a few days ago, couldn’t leave your mind.

The korean kpop sites collapsed in a while after they announced Park Jinwoo has been seen lately with a girl, which was you.

No matter how much time he spend on trying to get you out of the bubble these news created in your head, he couldn’t, but that’s not what he thinks.

“Baby? What are you staring at?” He finished marking all the words he didn’t understand in the book you bought him as a gift and lifted his head only to meet your focused stare. He snaps his fingers in your face to wake you up from the daydream, and you apologize quietly.

-“Ah sorry, what were you saying?” You ask and pull the book closer to you. “Oh come on, I know that face, you’re thinking about it again aren’t you?”

-“I’m sorry, it doesn’t leave my mind...”

“You don’t need to worry as long as I’m here with you, the fans won’t hurt you, nobody will.” He placed his hand on yours and caressed the back of it, while only staring in your eyes.

It was comforting.

Dongmin:

You told your manager you want to take a break from having schedule in the next two weeks, your mental health wasn’t the best you knew since you started getting hate comments on social media because you’re dating Cha eunwoo.

Your manager totally accepted it and luckily understood your condition, but he also told that to your boyfriend, which you didn’t want to happen.

This afternoon you got a phone call from Dongmin, “Baby is that true? I’m coming over right after I’m done here.” He decides, not even listening to your answer. He was busy filming his new drama and you barely saw him lately. -“Uhm... yeah you can come over.” You replied, not even in the mood to talk, but you guess it can’t be bad if he comes, you needed any kind of help right now. He hangs up without saying anything more.

“Babe it’s me.” He knocks at the door after half an hour since you last talked.

-“Hey...” you open the door to see your boyfriend standing there with your favorite box of chocolate. He pulls you immediately for a hug before you say anything else, his bear hug felt like you haven’t seen each other for years.

Pushing the door behind him with one hand and then caressing your head softly and gently, kissing the top of your forehead.

“I missed you hon’.” He confesses, you only mumble, -“Me too...” as a reply against his chest and tears fill your eyes.

“I’m not leaving you, okay? I’m here. We’ll take care of everything baby.” He pulls away and cups your face, then placing a peck on your nose.

Moonbin:

Bin won’t look at the exposure of your relationship as an issue, he even thinks it’s even better now that you don’t need to hide in public, and doesn’t care what other people think about it.

As much as he loves his fans and yours, you always come first so he asked his fans to stop spreading hate and toxic at both of you. The high confidence he had about the news, because he knows how powerful the love you two share, made you feel less scared about how people will react or what they will do when you two go outside together.

He hired a van to stay in for the weekend in the woods, since you love camping together but hate sleeping on the ground.

It’s your second anniversary as a couple, and he decided to cook your fave meal which was also the first meal you ate together back then. “Binnie...” you call him with soft voice, while your eyes are reading what’s on your phone screen- the article about him dating, it’s now trending all over the internet.

-“Yes, dear (jagiya😉)?” He takes a quick look at you and back on the oven, watching the food that was almost ready.

“Take a look at this please.” You hand him over the phone, and he sighs. -“Ah, this. I talked to my manager already.” He says, feeling too comfortable with the topic you find as an issue.

“And... you didn’t mean to tell me everyone know about us?” You ask him, slightly pissed off. -“Hey~ and bother you with things you don’t need to worry about?” He holds both your shoulders, looking into the stars in your eyes.

Minhyuk:

Minhyuk was busy with his schedule in the studio, working on a new song, while you were scrolling down Instagram, suddenly your eyes meeting his name on the top of one article, attached to ‘dating’. It was one of the things you were scared to be known by your fans, since you didn’t want to disappoint them, but also was scared of their reaction.

You thought about this a lot and had a short anxiety attack every time it passed through your mind, but he was there always to calm you down, but now.

Knowing he was working and probably recording his new song, you decided to not call him but go physically to his studio as your heart started to beat faster and your blood felt like it was boiling.

-“Minhyuk? It’s me...” you knock 3 quick knocks on the studio’s door, leaning in to try and hear if he was singing.

“Oh? Baby, why didn’t you call me? Did something happen?” He opens the door and you don’t even hug or kiss him as you usually do when you meet him after hours you haven’t seen him. Walking straight into the darker room, as he closes the door and slow downs his voice at you strange behavior, you are playing with the charms of your bracelet.

“Baby, chill, are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asks worriedly, trying to hug you but you push him away slightly, ready to almost burst into tears. -“Did you see this?” You quickly show him the articles that were added to the social media since you first saw that one.

“Oh... oh my god.” He takes your phone and his other hand is holding yours. -“What are we gonna do?” The warm tears slowly stream down your face, as he pulls you into a hug, comforting you with little taps on your back.

“Please don’t worry, we are gonna go through this together, okay?” He cups your face and kisses your lips slowly, you try to pull away but there was pure comfort in the taste of his lips, so you tried to enjoy it as much as you could.

-“You promise?” You ask and pull your pinky up, waiting for his to intertwine his pinky, “Only if you let me kiss you again.”

Aish~

Sanha:

In this case I see him freaking out more than you.

You were both eating lunch at fantagio building since he just made a comeback, this is the place where you could hang out most of the time nowadays.

He took a mouthful of hot, spicy ramen, then back to scrolling down Instagram.

“Oh-mygahd...” he murmured unclear words you tried to understand, when he just turns his phone to you. Your eyes widen at the title that includes both your names.

-“Who the hell publish-“ you grabbed his phone and yours in your other hand, calling your manager as fast as you could, but it was too late since you saw the amount of comments the article already has. “Y/n what are we gonna do?” Sanha asks, trying to calm his senses which doesn’t seem to be working.

After talking with your manager, it looks like she knew they were going to announce it this week, and the company didn’t want neither of you to be hurt because it might affect your performance.

-“I’m even more pissed now because she didn’t tell me earlier...” you said, furrowing your brows after pushing the food plate away from you and leaning back on the chair.

At this point he couldn’t show you how angry and nervous he felt, so he tried his best cheering you up. “Ya~ you know they love us, right?” He leans forward, reaching out his arm for you, mentioning the fans. You nod your head slightly at your boyfriend but barely look at him. “C’mon, what can I do to cheer you?” He thinks out loud and sticks two fries up his teeth, making that cute monster voice he does that makes you laugh usually.

-“Ugh, shut up.” You burst out laughing and hit his arm playfully. “That’s the y/n I want for the rest of the day. And life.” His warm words approach your heart and make you smile eventually.

#park minhyuk #astro #astro imagines #rocky #astro rocky #astro reactions #astro scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #mj #jinjin #cha eunwoo #moonbin #Yoon sanha #mj imagine #jinjin imagine #eunwoo imagine #moonbin imagine #Minhyuk imagine #rocky imagine #sanha imagine #mj scenario #jinjin scenario #eunwoo scenario #moonbin scenario #Minhyuk scenario #rocky scenario #sanha scenario

[milkybonya]

Heartstrings (pt.4/4)

Warnings: angst !

Pairing: Drummer!Jinjin x reader

Summary / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

[a/n]: i thought i should wrap this series up >< i lost focus but i still wanted a clean ending of sorts :D thank you to anyone who actually read the whole thing? i’m sorry if it was a little rocky (lol) and all over the place, but i hope it brought you even a bit of joy <3

He confessed on the day before Astro’s debut. The two of you had grown to realize your feelings, but Jinjin wanted to earnestly confess to you. He chose to do so on the day before his group’s debut because he wanted to add another good thing to his week.

You were roaming around your city centre with him. It was the end of February and strangely enough, winter decorations were still up. You pointed this out to Jinjin who laughed softly, making his frame shake underneath all of the soft layers he wore.

As you stood before a deep brown bench that was conveniently placed under a thin tree, you realized where you were. 

Right in front of this bench was where Astro were set up the first time you saw them perform. It was when Jinjin’s eyes first found yours.

“You know where we’re standing now, right?” Jinjin asked in his deep voice.

You nodded slowly, turning to face him.

“I never told you, but the reason I stared at you so much from that first day was because... you were beautiful,” he said, staring right into your eyes even though his nervousness was lowering his head.

“You were beautiful and you are beautiful,” he continued. “And I like you.”

You knew this day would come. You were waiting for it, but you still weren’t ready. Jinjin waited patiently for you to says something.

“I like you too.” That was the only thing you could muster up enough courage to say, but it was enough to encourage Jinjin to confidently grab your hand and guide you around the bench.

“You know,” he said. “I wish I confessed sooner, but I’m also okay with having confessed today.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, gazing at the straight cut of his jawline as he looked forward.

“This might be the last day that we can hold hands freely like this,” Jinjin finally admitted. “Even though everyone is aware of our debut, so we can’t even be doing this now, this might be the last time.”

“If you don’t feel comfortable, we can-”

“No,” Jinjin said. “Please let’s hold hands. Our label hasn’t said anything about dating and we don’t even have a big fanbase anyway, so let’s not worry for today.”

“Okay,” you said, smiling.

Even though you both laughed wholeheartedly while window shopping, even though the cool air felt nice on your heated cheeks, even though it felt nice to intertwine fingers, to walk side by side and to exchange glances, the fact that this might not last still gnawed at the back of your head.

It was only a thought, but some thoughts just don’t go away.

-

When Astro debuted, they began to have a busier schedule and they attracted more attention. Jinjin would tell you about how they were getting recognized more often. 

You and Jinjin continued to see each other while you could, having stay-at-home dates, sometimes risking going out in public. Once, you had been seen with Jinjin while on a shopping date - it was lucky you weren’t holding his hand at that time. The fan greeted Jinjin and asked who you were.

“They’re a good friend,” he said. The fan didn’t think much of it, and there was nothing on social media about you just yet, so you were fine.

But there was one evening when you were at the sea with Jinjin, watching the waves lazily move around, caressing the sand.

Someone had recognized the sweater Jinjin was wearing. They had noticed your head on Jinjin’s shoulder and they snapped a photo from behind, showing only your backs.

“Rookie group already has a dating scandal?”

“Astro’s leader caught on a date”

These were just a few of the articles that were released. You didn’t understand why people were so pressed about a rookie group and who they were dating, but Astro’s fanbase, although small, was very strong.

Luckily, Jinjin was able to come forward and say that it wasn’t him in the photo.

“Yes, I wear that sweater a lot, but that isn’t the only sweater in the world. The faces are not even visible in that photo. I can assure you that it isn’t me,” he explained.

That was just the beginning, though.

A few years passed and Astro was beginning to build their reputation. You were still dating Jinjin but being a lot more careful. He would often drop by your house with food, planting kisses all over your face before the two of you would eat together while sharing a meal.

The manager wasn’t aware of your relationship with Jinjin, so the two of you continued as you were. On the rare days when you went on a date to a bookstore or anywhere in public, you were careful to hide your face and not show too much skinship. 

Sometimes you would carefully hold his hand though, making him smile as he scanned the books on the shelves.

An article dropped later like a bomb out of nowhere.

“Astro’s Jinjin dating since predebut”

A fansite had been continuously stalking Jinjin and keeping tab of everywhere he went, snapping photos of him and even of you. The article talked about how Jinjin went to your house a lot, how we was always seeing you.

This time, the article gained a lot of attention.

People were angry and worried, demanding answers. Astro’s manager had to pull Jinjin aside to have a meeting with him. Jinjin confessed to everything, making the manager angry.

“So that photo of the two of you on the beach was real too? You should have ended the relationship there and then!” he told Jinjin.

People started coming for your social media accounts, too. Even when you went on private, some people still managed to find you, so you deleted everything altogether. People claimed you were taking advantage of Jinjin, dating him for his fame and money, only using him, being inconsiderate of his status.

Jinjin called you many times a day to reassure you.

“You know what they’re saying isn’t true, right? I asked you to stay with me; I dragged you into this,” he’d say.

But it was all a bit too much, and you stopped seeing Jinjin for some time. You stayed at home and only let your closest friends visit you.

You took that time to take care of yourself and try to think about everything.

The manager was telling both of you to end it, but Jinjin wanted to hold on. It was a lot, it was too much.

But thanks to the love of your friends and the rest of Astro who would call you from time to time, you came to a decision.

“Jinjin, let’s just take a break for now. I still love you and I always will, you know that, but for your image and career and for my mental health, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other and only call each other from time to time.”

It broke your heart to say it, but it had to be done. Jinjin was serious when he responded. His voice was low and cracking as he tried to hold back tears, but he accepted what you wanted.

You took the time to travel, getting your mind off things and making the most of your life. Jinjin would call you every day at first, but by the end, he rarely called once a month.

You could still feel his love from afar, though. Every song Astro released felt like it was about you, and you still supported them no matter where you were.

“[y/n], you’ve got to see this video from Astro’s concert!” read one of your friends’ text messages.

Curious, you opened it up to watch the video. The members were on stage and Jinjin was talking from behind his drum kit.

“You know, we’re all going to be married someday,” he said, making the crowd go ‘aw’.

“and I already have some idea of who I want that to be. Will you support me?” Jinjin asked. To your surprise, the crowd wildly cheered.

“Are you going to say our fans’ name? Will it be Aroha?” Moonbin asked, looking back at Jinjin.

“Aroha have half of my heart,” Jinjin said, smiling awkwardly.

“Only half?!” MJ exclaimed.

“But this person has the other half,” Jinjin explained. “Will you support me, Aroha?”

The crowd was loudly cheering.

“I hope that you can meet this person one day, they mean the world to me,” Jinjin said. His eyes were shining under the stage light and his face crumpled up as though he was going to cry. Eunwoo quickly rushed up to him to give him a hug.

“Roha, Jinjin has loved this person for a long time,” MJ said, staring into the crowd. “And he had to let them go so that he could spend more time loving you all, but now he misses that person very much.”

A fan yelled: “Marry them quickly!”

The members all laughed.

“Yes, I’ll make sure to do an express marriage,” Jinjin said, laughing.

“Who is it?!” someone else from the crowd yelled. All of the members looked at Jinjin.

“This person... was in articles before,” he explained. You could tell he was unsure about how much he could say.

“[y/n]!” someone yelled.

“Yes, that’s right!” Sanha said excitedly, but Jinjin looked worried.

“I’m not sure if they would feel comfortable with what I’ve told you today, so maybe we should move on to the next song,” Jinjin said, rubbing his eyes.

But the crowd suddenly started chanting “marry them!” even while Astro started to perform. The video ended there, and your eyes were full of tears.

You found yourself unconsciously scrolling through your contacts and pressing on Jinjin’s name.

“Hello?” he answered the phone.

“Jinjin, it’s been a while. It’s me,” you said.

“[y/n]?!” Jinjin yelled. “Is it really you? I’ve missed you!”

“I missed you too,” you laughed. “Do you still want to get married?”

#JinJin #park jinwoo #jinwoo #jinijn #astro #astro au #drummer!jinjin #jinjin scenario #jinjin astro #jinjin fanfiction #Jinjin imagine #jinjin angst #astro angst #astro scenario #astro imagine #kpop au #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop story #kpop fanfiction #jinjin fluff #drummer!jinjin x reader #jinjin x reader #Astro JinJin x reader #astro jinjin au #astro jinin

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

The Pretty Reckless’ Taylor Momsen: “This record saved my life”

The Pretty Reckless frontwoman Taylor Momsen faces your questions about lost friends, life in quarantine and her band’s new album

Four years on from their last album, The Pretty Reckless return in the face of personal loss and depression for the follow-up, Death By Rock And Roll. In the meantime, we challenged frontwoman Taylor Momsen to answer your burning questions on the band’s new era, making dream collaborations come true and… really rubbish tigers?

What can you tell us about how the new album is sounding? Debbie Smith (email)

“Awesome! I’m ecstatic for people to hear it. It’s been a long time coming and we’ve been sitting on music waiting to put it out, it’s been torturous. I don’t want to say too much but I am very confident with this album – in a lot of ways, this might be our best album yet; it’s very much a rebirth for this band and it feels like the first record in a lot of ways. I know to my core that I’m extraordinarily proud of what we’ve accomplished on this album, it’s a new chapter in the band’s life. This record saved my life and I’m really excited to share it.”

If you could collaborate with anyone on a future album who would it be and why? Jenni Owens (email)

“I don’t know because I don’t think of music like that, I think collaborations have to come about organically and in these modern times of streaming, collaborations are used more as a marketing tool than an actual artistic statement and I don’t really like that. I very rarely collaborate with people, but I say that just as I got to collaborate on this new album with some amazing people like Matt Cameron and Kim Thayil of Soundgarden on a song called Only Love Can Save Me Now, which we recorded at London Bridge Studios in Seattle where Soundgarden made Louder Than Love, Pearl Jam made Ten and Alice In Chains recorded there. It’s such an iconic space, so being there with those guys and hearing the song I wrote come to life with them playing it was one of the best experiences of my life. The collaboration came about in a really natural way through a lot of tragedy; we were opening for them on that last tour before Chris Cornell passed and that created a bond. We also have a song, And So It Went, that features Tom Morello playing the guitar solo – again that was such an amazing artistic collaboration. When I wrote the song, he immediately came to mind as a voice that could really express the concept, the lyrics and the point of the song and really take it to another level and he certainly does; when he comes in, it’s undeniably Tom Morello and it’s awesome!”

What do you think of them rebooting your old TV show Gossip Girl? Danielle Harris (email)

“I’m curious to see it! Social media and technology has changed so much since that show first aired so it’ll be interesting to see what they do with it. I remember on the show, they used to periodically give your character a new phone and it was still flip phones when it started… now everyone’s glued to iPhones and you feel like you’re dying without a smartphone. The social commentary alone will be interesting to see how they take that and bring it into the modern life we’re all living in.”

What did 2020 teach you? @immortalevfan (Twitter)

“It’s taught me patience, which I think I had a pretty good handle on ahead of 2020 but it certainly has tested my boundaries of how patient I can be. It’s taught me to appreciate the small things that we overlook in life – if we were on tour right now, I wouldn’t be getting to spend time with my tiny dog ,who’s very old, before she’s inevitably going to pass. I’ve been enjoying the little moments of being at home because the rest of my life has always been a whirlwind and was always on the go, so now there’s no other option but to reflect on your own thoughts and your own life.”

Would you rather have an army of badass ducks or one really crap tiger? James Brian Fitzgerald (Facebook)

“Can’t it be one badass tiger or a load of ducks? I’m kind of a solitude, isolated person; I have very few friends but the friendships I have go deep. Because a lot of ducks seems a little overwhelming, I think I want one tiger but I’d have to get him on the game. He just needs a little sensei training; I’ll give him a Soundgarden record and we’ll be on the same page. I’ll reform that tiger!”

Who in the music industry was most helpful to you taking your first steps and adapting into that world? Jane McAhrane (email)

“I have to give credit to my managers who I’ve been with for a very long time, they’ve always supported my visions and always had my back, but I think the main people are in the band. It started when I first met Ben [Phillips], our guitarist and my songwriting partner, and our producer Kato at the same time. There was an undeniable chemistry and magic that you can’t duplicate – it was something otherworldly, if you believe in that kind of thing. It was a defining moment in my life. Through that, I met Mark Damon [bass] and Jamie Perkins [drums]. When we all came together and made the decision to see where this was going to go, quit our jobs and I quit acting, we really jumped in with both feet. The support, camaraderie and the way we looked at music and life, everything about it is amazing.”

In your opinion, has having the career in acting helped or hindered the public perception and success of the band? And how long do you think it took for people to see you as a musician rather than the actress who has a band? Matt Heeks (Facebook)

“I think it was a combination of both a hindrance that we had to overcome and a slight help to the press side. In the beginning it certainly helped get our name out there because I was known for something else and I was living in a tabloid world at the time, so it spread the band’s name around, but I don’t think it contributed anything to the actuality of what it is to be a band, to make music and to be successful at that – having your name written in a bunch of articles doesn’t validate anything. I think the people who gave the album a chance without judging it with a pre- existing notion and went in with an open mind, they noticed pretty quickly. The rest of the world took a while to see this for what it was. There’s no facade, it’s just who we are as people.”

Do you think we are more likely to cry or headbang during the new album? @xxrecklesstayxx (Twitter)

“I think you’ll get a bit of both! There’s a very full spectrum on this record; it starts in the dark and ends in the light and it really takes you on a journey. If the first half doesn’t work for you, you’ll find something in the second half and vice versa. It encapsulates everything we’ve been through since the last time we were out and about in the world. A lot of this record was made due to how much tragedy and loss that suddenly thrust itself upon our lives in a short amount of time, from Chris Cornell’s passing to our producer Kato Khandwala [who died following a motorcycle crash in 2018]. [Kato] was my best friend on the planet and that was the nail in the coffin for me. I went down into a hole of depression and substance abuse and I didn’t know how to get out of it; it was music that saved me, it pulled me out and made me want to keep going. Writing this record was all I had left and I think you can really hear that on the album.”

What do you miss most about touring? Aimee Baker (email)

“I miss you guys, the fans! I’m going through show withdrawal, I miss being onstage with my best friends and cranking the amps, screaming into microphones and never really knowing what’s going on. I miss the whole energy of live shows because there’s nothing like it; it’s a drug and there’s nothing that competes with it. Being in the studio and writing gives you a different substantial kind of high that lasts forever, whereas shows are just one night but you can’t beat that one night.”

Any plans to release an acoustic album of any of your songs or covers? @Jmj2022 (Twitter)

“No specific plans but it’s certainly something we’ve been talking about for years now at this point. Because we haven’t been able to get together as a band plugged in, I’ve been doing a lot of acoustic stuff from home. We just released a piano version of House On A Hill, which is something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time and I think that turned out really beautiful. I’ve got to work with some amazing friends and musicians; Alain Johannes and I covered Chris Cornell’s The Keeper together, I also got to work with Matt Cameron and we recorded Halfway There by Soundgarden. Things are happening that wouldn’t have come about if we were on tour.”

#Taylor Momsen #the pretty reckless #2021 interviews

[tysonbaerrie]

thank you for the last one it was perfect here’s another: jamie and tyler get interviewed after being the first active nhl players to come out (i’ll let you decide whether or not they’re together/whether or not they announce it)(i’ll also let you decide who’s more nervous and who’s more comforting bc honestly i can see it either way) thank uuuuu - ssbn (super specific bennguin bonnie)

Well, SSBN, after 84 years, here you go! It’s different from my usual style, but I hope you like it!

Tyler finds Jamie at the kitchen island, omelet in front of him as he scrolls through his social media. His hair is rumpled and unkempt, and Tyler wants to rub up against the well-worn Stars shirt Jamie put on when he came downstairs.

“None for me?” He asks instead, gesturing at his boyfriend’s breakfast.

“In the microwave.” Jamie replies around a bite. Tyler heats it up before settling into the stool next to Jamie’s.

“Thanks babe.” He tells Jamie, who shrugs but leans over to accept a kiss on his cheek from Tyler without taking his eyes off his phone.

Once breakfast is finished, Tyler cleans up the mess that Jamie made. He’s just put the last plate in the dishwasher when he feels Jamie spread himself across Tyler’s back, hooking his chin over Tyler’s shoulder.

“The article is out.” He tells him, and Tyler turns his head enough that he can see Jamie out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jamie confirms, pushing his phone into Tyler’s hand, where the article with Outsports is already open.

After coming out, hockey superstars find support from team – and each other

“Did I know Jamie was the one when we met? Absolutely not.” Tyler Seguin laughs on the couch in the home he now shares with his teammate and boyfriend. A dog is resting at his feet, and he looks comfortable in a well-worn Dallas Stars hoodie – the number fourteen on the chest instead of Seguin’s own ninety-one. His nerves show, however, as he pulls at the frayed edges of the sleeves. “We were friends for years before we were anything more. I thought he was straight the first couple years we knew each other.”

“I thought I was straight.” Benn tells me later, looking decidedly uncomfortable at the prospect of talking about something so personal to a stranger. “I mean, I’d always dated women. I didn’t, uh…until Tyler.”

While there have been a few hockey players to come out in recent years, the Dallas Stars’ Captain Jamie Benn and his Alternate, Tyler Seguin, are the first players in the NHL to come out. The fact that they came out together allowed them to lean on each other in the media onslaught in the days that followed.

“It made it easier, to have someone there who was going through the same thing.” Benn admits. “I wasn’t alone in what was happening, and neither was Segs.”

In the days following their mutual Instagram posts, the internet exploded with comments, questions, and judgment. There were questions about Benn’s suitability to lead the Stars, so-called fans demanding that one or both be traded, signs at games that read Dallas Homos and the like. When I mention this, however, Seguin is quick to point out the undeniable support they’ve also seen. He shows me a picture he has saved on his phone of a young male fan at a recent game, a huge smile on his face as he held up a sign covered in rainbows that declared Bennguin Are My Heroes.

“I didn’t really have that, growing up.” Seguin admits. “There weren’t a lot of out athletes, and none who played hockey. I grew up thinking I couldn’t be gay and play hockey, that I had to choose. If some kid out there realizes that they can play hockey and be who they are, then it’s worth it.”

They’ve also received overwhelming support from their teammates, evidenced by the pride tape most of the team sported at the Stars’ first game after Benn and Seguin went public with their relationship.

“It doesn’t matter to anyone on the team.” John Klingberg admitted when questioned in a post-game interview. “Chubbs is still our Captain, Segs is still a leader on this team. If anything, it makes them stronger as leaders.”

Stars management has stood behind the players as well, General Manager Jim Nill expressing support for the faces of the Dallas franchise.

“Jamie and Tyler are important to this team, but they’re also good men and this organization supports them 100%, no question.”

“The team was behind us from day one.” Benn says, admitting that their teammates knew about their relationship for nearly a year before it became public. “You spend all your time with the same people, it’s impossible to keep a secret. But they’ve always had my back on the ice and they have it off as well.”

When asked what made them decide to come out, Benn shrugs, but Seguin reaching over and wrapping a hand around his wrist calms the Captain.

“I’m a pretty private person, but I didn’t want to hide anymore.” Benn admits. “I didn’t want to have to lie to people about the person I love.”

Seguin blushes at that, leaning into his boyfriend’s space.

“Same.” Seguin agrees, his smile blinding. “We didn’t want to have to only be ourselves behind closed doors, or wait until we retire to really live our lives.”

It’s a rare thing, being an out active player in professional sports, but when asked about being trailblazers, both are intent to shrug it off.

“Obviously, we both want to be known more for our hockey than our sexualities. But we knew that this would get a lot of attention. I guess we’re just hoping that it will help someone else be comfortable enough to come out when they’re ready.” Seguin says, looking to Benn. They’re comfortable with each other in a way that only comes with living in another person’s pocket for years. They’re partners, on and off the ice, clearly confident and settled with each other.

The photographer takes a couple of pictures before we leave their home, and while he’s packing up I watch as Benn leans into Seguin, resting his head on his shoulder as Seguin runs his fingers through Benn’s hair. The move is almost unconscious, and I suddenly feel as if I’m intruding on a private moment. Benn disappears shortly after that, and Seguin walks us to the door. It’s close to the end of the season, and I wish them luck in the playoffs as we say our goodbyes.

When the Stars lift the cup just a few months later to the roar of a hometown crowd, it’s Benn and Seguin lifting it together.

#hockey rpf #bennguin #jamie benn #tyler seguin #my writing #super specific bennguin nonnie #Anonymous

[keneerike]

Floyd, Chauvin, and Race in America: Where Do We Go from Here?

[My audio commentary here:

https://soundcloud.com/user-31492767/floyd-chauvin-race-relations-where-do-we-go-from-here-jttg-may-2021]

This article employs race relations as the backdrop for tackling some universal challenges we all face.

It's less about politics than it is about exploring two skills that serve well in all walks:

1) A knack for asking the right questions. 

2) The ability to get others aligned with your way of thinking.

Through that prism, it's an intriguing read for anyone.

I've fielded some questions about the Floyd/Chauvin case, now that the verdict has been handed down:

Where do we go from here? What are some of the implications surrounding race relations, public and personal accountability, and activism?

A few thoughts:

1) There are (visible) cracks in the Blue Wall.

John 3:20: "For every one that doeth evil hateth the light."

Exposure to natural light dries up the conditions that allow bacteria to flourish.

Ditto for bad actors.

Public pressure, however misguided, is leading to important questions that are holding municipal departments accountable. It's increasingly-difficult for police unions to sweep criminal malfeasance under the rug.

You'd like to see the public do more of this in other arenas, like public and private education, but independent, critical thinking is seldom found in the middle of a herd.

2) Will More Conversations About Race Lead to (Significant) Change?

Doubtful.

Setting aside the question of what the specific goal is for some of these movements, how often does "talk" actually lead to change?

Intentional, thoughtful action is what gets things done.

The Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement will struggle to produce meaningful, positive change for reasons I've outlined in the past:

Two problems facing the protest community:

1) Inability to Create Change

2) Sullied Reputation: “Protesters are Thugs.”

“They only have one question: What’s in it for them?

Why should they invest the time and effort to help you, beyond offering empty gestures and lip service? It could be an emotional reason or a financial one. 

It could be to create tranquility inside their own minds. You have to give people a reason to get off the sidelines. 

Article: Freddie Gray, Dirty Cops, & The Problem With (Peaceful) Protests

As we've seen with many would-be revolutionaries of the past, how the spoils of early victories are divided reveals much about BLM's long-term viability. Integrity of leadership is one of the canaries in the coal mine for spotting movements that can stand the test of time. Unchecked spending from BLM organizers has brought increased scrutiny over how donations are being managed.

BLM leadership putting winning Monopoly strategy to good use.

Most campaigns sputter because they ignore one---or more---of the following tenets:

Three Steps to Producing Effective Community Organizing Campaigns:

1) Provide clear information on the problem, including reasons why people need to join the cause. Use incentives.

2) Present specific actions for participation that further the cause, including easy access to donation links and support for policies that actually move political and economic levers.

3) Routinely examine strategy and tactics, assessing how much progress has been made and whether the current course of action is appropriate for the scope of the problem. Adjust accordingly.

Article: Slacktivism: The Problem With Social Media Movements

Shaming people, especially when your own hands aren't clean, isn't going to get anything beyond nominal concessions. 

Most of the old boy network---or, "The Man", to put it more humorously---knows this. That's why they can get on board most any cause, with little fear of any real loss. They know standards for change agents worth supporting have plummeted, so companies are happy to capitalize, picking up market share and goodwill in exchange for token displays of support.

The biggest sports leagues in the world have gotten in on the act, hopping onto the protest bandwagon that first picked up steam a few years ago. A few commercials and planned anthem demonstrations are hollow gestures that will ultimately do nothing to help minority communities advance.

(Although the dollars that have been pledged to aid communities could do some good---if used properly.)

3) How do we avoid being killed by the police? 

Stay out of the line of fire.

Looking for a "safe" stance on police-related incidents that won't get you “cancelled”?

Me neither. :)

But hey, this site doesn't shy away from controversy.

If you live in an impoverished community, you're more likely to have interactions with the police. When they're not setting up speed traps to meet monthly quotas, they're patrolling high-crime areas where illegal activity is fiercest.

The cops have mandates to hit areas where their efforts can register the biggest impact. Those tend to be areas with higher concentrations of minorities.

You're much more likely to be hassled by police in East St. Louis than you are in East Hampton.

Although ongoing calls for change may lead to negative unintended consequences for those inner-city zones.

You can only campaign for reduced police presence so long before politicians start to listen. People respond to incentives: Shifts in policy come when jobs get threatened. Pushes to defund the police---an ill-conceived response to relatively-rare high-profile incidents---will lead to an increase in crime. Remove deterrents to crime---police presence, policies that punish quality-of-life infractions---and you'll see anti-social behavior spike.

But if you're paying attention, you already knew that.

That's something to think about in the most vulnerable communities, where per capita income leaves residents least capable of defending themselves when the wolves are at the door.

City life without cops.

So, how do we avoid fatal encounters with the police?

What’s the lesson here?

The onus is on the public to recognize that the police are human, subject to the same fears and frailties that we are. You’ve got to minimize your exposure to danger as much as you can.

Article: What We Learned from Mike Brown, Eric Garner, and Ferguson 

Do not resist arrest.

You may have been profiled or detained unlawfully---fair enough. If you're still alive, you will have a chance to fight your case later.

We've got a lot of agency, ability to influence the world around us.

It's up to you whether your run-in with the cops ends in a conversation, a citation, or a trip to the hospital.  

And, unfortunately, nowadays one has to define what "resisting arrest" means:

Yelling at the police, attempting to wriggle out of handcuffs, running away, brandishing a knife---these are no-nos that could get you killed.

This is common sense and goes without saying among older generations. They understand you can be respectful without being obsequious. 

But in a society where subtle messaging and normative cues are fed to individuals less-practiced in critical thinking, population manipulation is easier to achieve. 

Be careful whom you accept marching orders from. 

The media has no stake in your individual well-being, so they'll tell you whatever they think will get you agitated and ready to do what they want you to do: 

Support the right interests and buy products and services.

Emotional thinkers make great consumers.

I love feedback, so do share your thoughts.

#George Floyd #Derek Chauvin #race relations #Black Lives Matter #police brutality #Controversy #Strategy #Business

[publiccollectors]

QUARANZINE #14

QUARANZINE #14: Rachel Herman. Rachel was diagnosed as a presumptive positive for COVID-19 after a test for Influenza A and B turned up negative. She's been fighting the virus for just over two weeks. Yesterday she posted this long message on Facebook about her experience so far and I asked her about publishing it in QUARANZINE. She had been thinking about reaching out to me, so we were both on the same page. The text is very long for the format I adhere to so the type is quite small, unfortunately. Here it is in its entirety: Dear friends,

This is the week many of us will get sick. Social distancing is working, but most cities waited too long to declare shelter-in-place orders and many others have yet to. So, we will see spikes in confirmed cases within the next week or so. I want you all to be armed with pragmatic and useful information if this happens to you or someone you care about.

I am on Day 14 of what was diagnosed as a presumptive positive for COVID-19 after a test for Influenza A and B turned up negative. (I am still waiting for my COVID-19 results.) I’ve had a relatively mild case, and I’m on the mend. My congestion is clearing up, I can breathe deeply again, and going up and down the stairs doesn’t make me winded. My energy and appetite are coming back though I still have had a fever of 100+ for 14 straight days. Most of us will get a mild case. 40-70% of us will get it, but so much of the media frenzy right now is focused on things that were important last week and yesterday (every day feels a year these days, though, to be fair). I have seen shockingly few articles or helpful testimonials advising how best to treat ourselves at home, and, trust me, I’ve been looking. So much of the information we’re focused on now is preventing transmission, but there is woefully little on what to do IF and WHEN we get sick.

Being waylaid during the time that so many folks have been still frantically trying to avoid getting sick has offered me a strange bubble of calm and insight. I’m grateful for that because the fear out there is palpable. I would like for this to be an offering to assuage at least some panic. That is my hope anyway.

The CDC and the WHO have labored and lengthy instructions on how to prevent transmission to someone else in the household or orders to quarantine. This creates a new problem for us as caregivers. A potentially critically ill person separated from everyone else drastically reduces a caregiver’s ability to monitor, replenish fluids, and generally take care of the person who is sick. On top of that, these two trusted sources offer only the most basic (honestly, negligible) recommendations for treating symptoms: sleep, keep hydrated, and take Tylenol (or the generic acetaminophen). This kind of bare bones advice is, well, skeletal. We all want to know how best to take care of ourselves and each other so that we can avoid having to go to the hospital. We want to be able to recuperate at home because we want to prevent putting a strain on the system and, face it, the idea of going to the hospital in this scenario is downright daunting. The better we know how to nurse ourselves back to health, the better our odds are healing well in our own beds.

So, I wanted to share what I’ve learned.

Caveat emptors/disclaimers because I’m making this public and shareable: This is based on my own personal, lived experience. I am not a doctor, so this does not replace or supplant solid medical advice from a professional you trust. I have had relatively mild symptoms but still a longish case. I am one of the freakish 5% who has had never-ending nasal congestion that went into my upper respiratory tract, but I somehow avoided the dreaded cough. YMMV (your mileage may vary). I have no underlying health concerns, I’m 52, a non-smoker, and fortunate. I have a comfortable apartment to myself, and I was able to spend $500 to stock up on essentials before the lockdown and before I got sick. (For the love of all that is holy, I swear I did not stockpile anything, especially TP. Stocking up is simply incredibly expensive. I dwindled my account down to almost my last dollar, since I’m adjunct faculty at two local universities and don’t make a whole lot.) Still, that is more than so many of us are able to do, and I am grateful for all that I have. What follows goes a bit beyond common sense, because this virus is unlike anything I’ve experienced before, even though to be clear, this is certainly a far cry from the sickest I’ve ever been. I hope it can be a boon to friends and strangers alike.

Here are the things I did that helped:

WHILE YOU ARE WELL

1) Start taking your temperature in the morning and at night so that you have a baseline.

One of the first signs of the virus can be a low-grade fever, though this virus does present in different ways. Full disclosure: I was one of those people who had to go to 3 different drugstores on Wed Mar 11 looking for a thermometer amid decimated shelves.

2) Before you get sick, change your diet.

Stop eating and drinking things that will make it harder to fight off the virus. Mellow out on the processed foods, dairy, and sugar (alcohol and gluten are in this category too, sorry).

Increase your intake of immune-boosting foods like green vegetables, fish and other omega-threes, garlic, ginger, and citrus. You don’t have to give in to the whole elderberry craze (though it does taste pretty good). Replace coffee with chaga, a fungal immune booster that you can brew into a strong, soothing tea, for a few weeks.

If you think these dietary recommendations are extreme, consider that you are in a temporary but dire situation where everything else around us is collapsing. Change your eating habits this month, even if it’s just a little for a little while.

3) SLEEP at least 8 hours a night. (I know, I wake up at 4am in a blind panic too. But, still, try.)

4) Make a pot of soup NOW while you are healthy or at the first sign of any symptoms.

This is especially important if you are sheltering in place alone. When/if you get sick, trust me, you won’t have energy to cook. You will barely want to eat anything anyway. But you will force yourself to have two bowls of it every day, and it will help. The pot should be big enough so that you can eat from it for a week. Make your favorite broth-based recipe: chicken, vegetable, or bone. Bone is most healing, obviously. Avoid dairy and noodles because these ingredients increase congestion and inflammation. Freeze it if you don’t have any symptoms at this point, so you will be able to thaw it when you start to feel oogy.

WHEN YOU GET SICK

1) At the first sign of fatigue, a tickle in your throat, aches, or a fever, go to bed and stay there. SLEEP. Don’t try to keep working. Your body needs to heal, and it can do that most effectively when you are sleeping.

Early symptoms reportedly vary. Some have aches and fever, scratchy throat, and chest tightness with a dry cough. Headaches, sneezing + nasal congestion, shortness of breath, nausea, and diarrhea have all been reported. I woke up on Mar 14 with a headache, body aches, congestion, and a fever of 101. My fever spiked to 102.5 on Day 2, and I’ve had a fever of 100+ every day since along with body aches, nasal congestion (my nose opened up like an actual running faucet on day 5), chest tightness and upper respiratory congestion, exhaustion, lack of appetite, and some lower GI distress (though not full-on diarrhea, everything just felt labored and different and, sincere apologies for the vivid image I’m about to put in your head, my poop seemed to be covered in a gauzy cloud). The two aberrations from most commonly reported symptoms: I have only had a negligible cough, and I never had a sore throat. My baseline temp leading up to getting sick was 99, but I am usually a straight-up 98.6 kind of person.

I had a dinner party the Monday before I got sick, and a friend who helped me in the kitchen came down with the same thing at the same time. My friend has asthma and has had a much harder time of things. But we are both on the road to recovery, in large part because we have been sharing what we’ve learned, checking in with each other, and doing some intense jobs taking care of ourselves while in isolation. (No one else from the dinner party has gotten sick to date.)

2) DRINK WATER, every 15 minutes when you are awake. Every time you wake up or roll over, drink. It should be room temperature, not cold. Cold liquids exacerbate the illness.

3) Drink WARM liquids like herbal tea and broth. Hot liquids keep everything in your system moving. Make soothing, healing, and warming remedies out of whatever inexpensive supplies you already have available.

4) In the giant void of an antiviral treatment that works on COVID-19, I have turned/returned to plant medicine, and it has helped me a lot.

My cousin, who is taking a Chinese medicine course in Singapore right now, sent me directions on how to make a ginger and licorice root decoction that was used throughout China during the Hubei lockdown. It’s easy to make. You bake the licorice in molasses, and then you boil the licorice root and the ginger for an hour. The ginger licorice decoction has really helped my friend who also got sick at the same time I did.

Making tea from Chaga – an Alaskan mushroom – has been so incredibly helpful. I’ve made a large pot of it every day, reserving the chaga and re-steeping over and over again for the past two weeks. Was it the chaga or the fact that I was drinking a gallon of warm soothing liquid daily, ladling out a mugful every couple of hours, that helped me get better? I’ll go with a little of both.

Other natural antiviral immune boosters that might help include vitamin C, C60, and olive leaf extract, oregano oil, and Manuka honey. Since stores are closed and Amazon has stopped shipping, we have to make do with what we already have. Make a tea with citrus peels and cloves and sliced ginger, if that’s is in your fridge.

5) The word on the street is to manage fever with Tylenol or acetaminophen or paracetamol, which are supposed to be more suited to treating respiratory illness than other alternatives. Frankly, I have been taking acetaminophen as sparingly as possible to avoid putting strain on my other organs. Cool compresses work too.

Some people are saying NOT to take Advil and its generic ibuprofen, as they have anecdotally said to propel otherwise healthy people to hospitals for oxygen. There is a lot of noise and confusion in this debate, and I’m going to sidestep this thorny conversation for our purposes.

6) Zinc lozenges and elderberry syrup help with a scratchy throat and cough. A friend of mine prone to bronchitis recommended Myrtol, a German cough syrup made from natural ingredients, including elderberry. If you have a pharma protocol in place for managing a persistent, chronic cough, you are probably already on it.

7) The fatigue is real. It also becomes really hard to think clearly. That’s why it’s so important to have soup and tea and other supportive supplies ready ahead of time.8) When you think you are getting better the first three or four times, STAY IN BED.

The arc of this virus is really rollercoaster-y: up and down and up and down. After the initial alarm passes, (and it is alarming at first because you don’t know which way it’s going to go and that seizing up can make everything feel worse), I was able to focus on getting better, calmly. I made it through the first scary fever spikes, but right when I thought I was feeling better, I would get knocked down again. There were critical junctures around days 3, 5, and 7 where I was certain I’d turned a corner, and, well, yesterday.

I’d get up and do dishes, take out the trash, take my dog for a walk around the neighborhood (face covered), and try to get some work done (end of quarter grades were due at both my schools and my departments have been preparing like mad to take our classes online in the spring). Then I would feel hot and light-headed again, taking my temp only to see it had sprung back up to 101.5. You will feel better and want to get back up and do things only to get knocked right back down. The moment I ease up on drinking water and tea constantly, I start to feel horrible again.

Remember: YOU ARE ESSENTIALLY PREVENTING YOURSELF FROM DEVELOPING FULL-BLOWN VIRAL PNEUMONIA. I would say the new mantra needs to be SLEEP + DRINK WATER. Start now, to the extent that you can. Please resist the urge to get up and do things. Rest. Do your Zoom meetings from bed with a virtual office background, if you absolutely have to be on a call. But, truly, you shouldn’t because this is the time to sleep sleep sleep and binge watch The Good Place (my choice for existential dystopian laughs/insert whatever makes your socks go up and down). For the past few days, my temp has been normal in the morning only to spring back up to 100+ if I try to do too much (e.g. read: ANYTHING). When I let myself sleep, my temp goes back down.

9) A humidifier has helped. Some recommend running a hot shower and sitting in your own makeshift bathroom sauna. Steam eucalyptus or rosemary, if you have any, and inhale deeply. I just made a homemade vaporub with a base of coconut oil and a few drops each of clove, thyme, rosemary, and peppermint oil. It is wonderful.

10) My breathing never got dangerously shallow. But this virus can potentially fill your upper and lower respiratory tracts with mucous until you feel like you are drowning. A physical therapist wrote with life-saving advice about the importance of Postural Draining, a method of draining mucous from the lungs using gravity and percussion. It involves physically moving your body so that you tilt your lungs and bronchial tubes upside down and then firmly clap the back or chest. This allows the mucous to flow up out of the lungs along with deep, prolonged exhales. Then you can cough it the rest of the way out. You can do postural draining alone or have someone perform it on you. Google postural draining diagrams – there are different for positions for each of the five lobes of your lungs. Do these exercises for 3-5 minutes a day before you get too sick. You can get into position in a chair or laying over a yoga ball, bean bag, or pillows for support.

Failing steps 1-10, if you have difficulty breathing or your temperature spikes beyond what you and your doctor are comfortable with (I’ve heard different numbers), please go to the ER immediately. Some of you will develop dramatic and dangerous symptoms quickly. Please do not wait to seek care if your lungs are struggling beyond what you can manage at home. My advice is geared to keeping as many of us comfortable for as long as it takes to heal, but that obviously is only going to go so far for those who suffer from chronic conditions, are older, or are immunosuppressed. If you have a finger oximeter, and are able to monitor your oxygen levels numerically, then you will know when you have to go to the hospital. But very few of us have those, and they are way sold out.

THE OTHER SIDE

Healing from even a mild case (and mine IS mild) takes about two weeks to a month.

As my dad would day, take it easy. It is unclear how immunity works with COVID-19. Some have said that there was a patient in Japan who tested positive a second time. There is speculation that this, in fact, was a relapse and not re-infection. We need more time to learn about the virus. In the meantime, please give yourselves time to heal.

We don’t know how long immunity lasts, and we don’t know about immunity to slightly different mutated strains even if we have recovered from one of them. I do hope that we get to develop a fair amount of herd immunity in the next year, but, again, there is a lot to learn. We will obviously still need to protect our vulnerable populations, and our society will continue to bend and contort itself around the virus.

But I hope to be in a position to assist when others get sick. I will happily help you to the best of my abilities. Looking to a future I can hardly conceive at the moment, I anticipate learning more about plant medicine. Scientists will develop new antivirals, retrovirals, and vaccines. I look forward to donating plasma as part of a treatment for those who get sick in the future, whenever that near-distant moment may be.

And thank you, friends. I am good. I have everything I need. My inner circle is incredible (I love you, mom!). I have been quarantined since developing symptoms and went out for a half hour only to get tested (thank you, Howard Brown for your invaluable service). No one else I spent time with beforehand has gotten sick (except my one friend whose illness coincided with mine, and they are also struggling a bit today with the ups and downs. Please hold them in your thoughts).

May you and your loved ones stay healthy. Or, more to the point, may we all get well and stay well. Sending love to all corners.– Rachel Herman

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