#BUT WHY DO I KEEP HEARING ABOUT ALBUMS FROM MY FRIENDS MESSAGES NOT FROM FUCKING INSTAGRAM??

[luceeelou]

why the fuck did i not get a notification that zayn went live or that he posted i think my phone is pissed at me istg

#I LEARNT ABOUT IT ALL FROM FREYA? #(no offence i love you) #BUT WHY DO I KEEP HEARING ABOUT ALBUMS FROM MY FRIENDS MESSAGES NOT FROM FUCKING INSTAGRAM?? #😭 #its not fair #zayn malik #z4

[alreadyblondenow]

Can we fix it?

Johnny x Female reader

Genre: Breakup, Fluff, smut, slight angst

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex which is not advisable in real life situation, mentions of alcohol, drunk Johnny, cursing. Sorry if ever I left anything out.

TMI: This is for the readers who still comes back here and reading my old stories. Honestly I want to write and make time for it again and just like this fic, I want to fix my time hahaha forgive me though. But thank you for your support until now! How are you guys loving ‘2 Baddies’? I bought 6 albums this era, for sure I’ll buy more but I’m saving up to see NCT Dream and WayV next month. So, I think I’ll support 127 more during repack! I hope everyone is loving the album and has been streaming. Let’s give 127 wins huhu also im just uploading this thru phone so it might be jambled :(( sorry

“We need you here asap— he keeps smashing things” Jaehyun spoke through the phone as you hear Johnny at the background trying to get the phone from Jaehyun, shouting your name.

It’s been only weeks since you and Johnny broke up. He didn’t take it too well obviously, and you can’t believe you’re on your way to his place to take care of him. As soon as you arrived at his place, you went to the kitchen to heat something up for Johnny. And soon as you showed yourself to his friends, they were all relieved but Johnny was feeling… guilty, disgusted by himself and honestly all he wanted to do is hug you so tight.

You were purposely not answering every message he sent, not answering his calls, everything. You tried your best to avoid him. So now… you’re like a ghost. It almost felt like the first time he saw you. Your first date. A beautiful night. But now… the night was still beautiful because he finally saw you after the breakup but, he’s so broken right now.

“You can all go— sorry,” Johnny said, trying to get up from his couch while being mindful of the shattered wine glass on the floor. Successfully, you caught Johnny struggling to walk straight heading his room after you see Jaehyun and the other on their way out. You were quick to grab Johnny’s waist and helped him towards his bed.

He’s quiet now.

But he’s looking at your every move.

“We were fine. Why did you leave me like that” he started. Still in his drunken state. He leaned forward and rest his forehead on yours, all you can do is soothe his back and close your eyes.

“Wasn’t I your perfect man? How can you ruin us like that— we were fine” he cried out again. This time theres tears in his eyes and he was whimpering, blaming himself and trying to keep you closer to him even more.

You on the other hand, continue to gently try your best to sober him up. You used to have moments like this back in the past, moments that involves sweet talking, planning what to have for breakfast the next day, or how many rounds can you guys do for tonight’s love making. But now it’s just crying and wishing that you could go back in time.

“I wasn’t okay all the time Johnny, you have to understand that I can’t pull you down with me”

“What are you talking about—“

“You’re too good for me Johnny.

“What does that even mean? You’re the one who’s too good for me”

“No Johnny. Shut up you don’t know—“ you were getting really frustrated.

“No. You shut up. You didn’t even let me have a say in this. You just left me while I was still fighting and longing for us. I get it you’re not perfect, but I don’t need perfect too. I’m not perfect too, but when did I ever pushed you away? When did I ever stopped being a better version of myself?— I thought you love me”

He continued crying and whimpering.

You continued to listen and miss him even though you’re holding him. And you agree, everything he said is true and to be honest you’re already regretting that you left and made your lives miserable. It has been… nothing but dark skies ever since you left him.

Maybe all you need is talk. Talk it out. You never gave him a chance to convince you to stay.

“Fuck it— life continues without you. Fucking leave, that’s where you’re good at”

He pushed you away lightly, careful not to hurt you physically but the heartbreak that you’re feeling right now hurts even more.

As you close the door gently and proceed to cleaning up the mess he did, you remember how beautiful your relationship was with Johnny and you managed to ruin it and burn all the bridges down in a matter of weeks. You went inside again his room to take care of him, putting a clean shirt and managing to clean him up. It’s the least you could do.

What you didn’t expect was soft kisses on your neck from Johnny while you change his clothes. You missed the feeling of his lips. But what will happen to whats left in your relationship if you give in? You certainly didn’t want to be fuck buddies with him if that’s where he’s going. What you have… or what you had, was way more special just to go down this road.

“I need you to stop” you said calmly when you already felt Johnny’s big hand inside your shirt, cupping your boobs. He was humiliated once again, removed his hand before he left a soft kiss on your temple. He’s sorry and he’s already forgiven. Always.

And when the morning comes, regret was the first things that came into Johnny’s head. He was aware of what happened last night. What he said and what he did. But he didn’t expect to see you sleeping uncomfortably on his couch, freezing.

Of course you felt his presence in an instant. You’ve been craving for it. “Sorry I passed out, I was waiting for the sun to come out” You said with a warm smile, hoping that things between you two cooled down from last night.

“Well the sun is out. You can go now” he said coldly. He didn’t know why. He just felt the urge to be cold towards you this morning.

“O-okay. Thank you” you rambled and clumsily gathered your stuff. Heart broken as you help yourself out of his house. You never thought that Johnny would push you away like that… it must’ve hurt him too when you did the same thing to him.

Days went by and you two continue to miss each other.

You wanted to get back together, but you were scared that he will push you away again. And you can’t handle it anymore. Johnny on the other hand, was giving moving on a shot… because he thought this is really what you wanted.

But then again, the alcohol was just like magnet for the both of you. You received yet another emergency call from Jaehyun, telling you to go to this bar because Johnny needs you and has been asking for you non-stop.

“Can I pass this one out?” You asked Jaehyun through the phone.

“I believe no, the manager of the bar is already mad. Please Y/n, just this one time we’ll never bother you again”

Of course you went to the given address and looked for Johnny. There you saw him sleeping soundly outside the said bar and your heart was breaking as you watch him mumble that he’s tired and lost.

“Hi… Johnny, it’s me. I need you to take my arm—“ you said when you finally approached him.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Who called you? Jaehyun? Fuck him. He should know that I’m not your responsibility anymore, leave Y/n” he gently pushed you away. Again. And that’s it. You knew you couldn’t handle experiencing this again.

Of course you stepped back. But you watched him from behind, followed him every step of the way until he reaches his house. He forgot where he put his keys and if he’s totally being honest right now, he’s about to throw up from too much walking. When you decided to take it from there and offered to open his door, he didn’t stopped you because all he wanted to do is run towards his sink. But life had other plans for him because by the time you finally opened the door, he tried running inside but ended up tripping and you were quick to catch him. Making him throw up on your clothes.

You then realized how fucked up he is right now. Johnny is not usually like this. He’s never a handful and he never forgets to handle his own problems.

“This is all because of you” is all he can say.

And that completely broke your heart.

When things cooled down and you finally got the chance to clean yourself up. You were crying while you think over and over again what Johnny said. You told yourself. This it. This is exactly why you broke up with him. One last cry and you will be totally out of his life.

Of course Johnny felt bad while watching you clean yourself while crying. He was having second thoughts about saying he’s sorry but what he said is the ugly truth. Either way he did not hesitate to hand you clean clothes and tried comforting you the best way he could. “I should be the one crying— stay for the night, the bed is yours”

But you couldn’t stand it anymore. You did not look at him while you try and make yourself decent again. You even ignored the clothes he gave you. “I’ll be fine. Good night Johnny” you said weakly and head towards the door.

Frustration hit Johnny again. And this time when you were just about to leave, you wish that he will stop you. Please stop me. You secretly wish, tears running down your cheeks.

And in an instant you felt him hug you from behind. Immediately hugging you oh so tight that you couldn’t breathe but you love the feeling of it. “You can leave tomorrow. Just stay for the night” Johnny said. He knew that by the time he watch you leave again, he will regret not stopping you just like the night you broke up with him.

Given that you cant get away from his tight embrace, you assured him that you wont leave and sleep here at his place. He slowly gave you some space and head towards the bathroom again and handed you the clothes for the second time before he says ‘good night’

Heading towards his room with your heart beating so fast, you changed your clothes, with only his shirt on and your panties. You sat on his bed for hours and hours, thinking about the future. If this is the last night you’re going to be together like this. Apart and broken. Or you can go outside and fix it. Either way, you’re not sleeping.

But just as you were about to stand up from your comfort… Johnny opened the door and walked towards you, sitting in front of you and reached for your hand immediately. You didn’t stopped him.

“I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to talk for hours and hours. I love you and I want you to stay. Not just for tonight though,” he was close to tearing up but he was stopping himself, “H-hug me if you feel the same” he said weakly, his grip tightened wishing you would pull him in for that hug.

And so you did. And you didn’t just hugged him. You immediately kissed him lovingly and said your sorry for ruining your relationship. He shut you up with a heated kiss, feeling his soft touch all over you. Hearing the words, “let’s never hurt each other again” and “I don’t want to hear the word ‘sorry’ from now on” and immediately made you giggle when you felt his lips on your neck, kissing you down until you’re comfortably under his huge frame. Feeling his hands all over your body, slowly running it up and down. Even his touch felt so good and warm that you missed him already when he pull away to remove his clothes.

It almost felt like it was your first time with him again when you were watching him remove your clothes. Every touch, every kiss and every sound you hear from him makes you tingle and your nipples hard. Of course he saw it, he smirked and teased it, making you whine and grab his shoulders but he didn’t stop. He flattened his tongue and gently flipped the tip on your nipple, making you close your legs and became sensitive. Johnny loved your reaction and to be honest he just missed doing this to you so he pulled you up and made you sit on him, making him hug you with both arms, and let you grind on his hard cock, making it wet with your pussy juices.

He licked your nipples softly, making you weak and melt with his feathery touch on your back, sucking and biting it gently when he wanted to hear you. Ending his teasing with lots of kisses on your chest all the way up your lips until you two fell on the mattress again.

“Want to make me harder?” He asked sweetly, lips beside your ears, nibbling it until you say stop and switch places. Johnny spread his legs very wide and you did not hesitate to lick his long and thick cock. The only cock you love and made you cum so any times already. You gave him head for a few minutes, playing with tip and watching him stop himself from cumming.

“By the way you can’t cum inside me tonight, you might get me pregnant—“

“What’s this torture I thought were okay?” Johnny pouted with lidded eyes. He wanted to fuck your mouth so bad but tonight is not the right time to be filthy. “But can we fuck raw?” He made you stop sucking him and pulling you to an embrace, cleaning your face his hand and switching places with you again.

“Of course we can fuck raw, what are you? A stranger?” You let out a small laugh and kissed your boyfriend’s lips. You knew the moment you placed your lips on his, he will immediately line his cock in your entrance and slowly thrust in.

Smoothly and slowly. Johnny is fucking you now, making you crazy and dizzy with his cock, making you moan and ask for more. He was bigger than ever, you thought that he will rip you even though he was going slowly. Bodies on bodies, he fucked you even slower and deeper, he was moaning the whole time with furrowed brows and when you came and tried closing your legs, he stopped them from closing and started kissing you hungrily. Feeling his whole weight on you, slowly fucking you open until you didn’t have a choice but to cum while he was still fucking you and still catching his orgasm. Slowly.

It’s crazy how no one moved fast but you two were tired and sweaty as you both catch your breaths. Of course Johnny came outside and was quick to grab a tissue. You laugh and helped him clean up, spreading kisses all over his body until you’re both covered with his thick blanket, both very naked beneath it.

You’ve never been this close before. Tonight was just very different.

“Do you want to live with me?”

He said out of nowhere while you were playing with his hands.

“What? Where did that came from?” You asked and came closer.

“I don’t want to see you leaving my place again. I swear Y/n— I’ll go crazy” he caged you with his long legs, and made you laugh again. He was still hard but he didn’t want to go another round, he was just happy and excited again for the future, he told you.

“Thanks for fixing us, for us.” You looked him in the eye and rolled on top of him so you could have a good look at him. “Yes I would like to move in with you,” you smiled and placed a kiss on his soft lips which formed a smile.

#nct smut #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct 127 smut #nct #nct 127 #johnny suh #nct johnny #nct johnny suh #johnny smut #nct johnny smut

[harry-on-broadway]

The Last Line: Part Three

Part Three

Word Count: 10K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

A/N: I actually managed to keep my promise and post when I said I would 😅 But seriously, thank you to everyone who has hung around waiting for the update. I hope you like it and would LOVE to hear what you think! 

***

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Are you going to get that?” Chloe asked pointedly, eyeing Penny’s phone as it vibrated on her desk.

“I’m sorry, is it bothering you?” Penny replied cheekily.

“Yes, but only because I want to know who has been texting you.”

Penny picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Four text messages from Harry. “Just a source,” she said. “I think I might have a lead on a new feature, so I’ve been trying to build a relationship with them.” That was kind of the truth wasn’t it?

“Uh huh,” Chloe said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “And does this source’s name rhyme with Barry Tiles?”

“Shhhh!”

“I knew it!”

The two women stared at each other over the partition that separated their desks, as Penny steeled herself for the barrage of questions Chloe was sure to hurl at her. “You want to take a walk? Get a coffee?” Chloe asked, clearly opting for discretion now that she had gotten what she was looking for from Penny.

“Yes, but you’re buying.”

“Deal.”

When their lattes were in their hands, Penny and Chloe began their slow and strategic walk around the office park, following a carefully planned route that they knew put them out of earshot of nosy coworkers.

“So when did this happen?” Chloe asked.

“Umm…” Penny searched for an answer. “Like a couple of weeks ago, I think? We got drinks after that concert we went to.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that but not the fact that he’s suddenly your new best friend.”

“You know he’s not my best friend. I could never take that title away from you.”

“I appreciate that but that doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me about him.”

“I didn’t say anything because this just kind of…happened,” Penny said.

And it had. She thought about the way she had texted him when she’d gotten home from their post-show drinks. And how he’d replied. And how when she’d woken up the next morning he’d sent her another message, this one containing a link to a country song that she hadn’t heard before. She thought about how she listened to the song on repeat while she made her coffee and got ready for work, crafting the perfect response in her head as she tapped her fingers to the beat. She thought about how Harry had texted her daily since that night. And, each time she added to her notes on whatever it was Harry was working on, she tried to suppress the feelings of guilt that brewed deep inside.

“Like hell it ‘just happened.’” Chloe tried to make air quotes around the coffee cup in her hands. “It wasn’t that long ago that I thought I’d have to be a character witness at trial for you.”

“Ha ha, but I swear! We just had a drink and talked and things progressed from there.”

“Where’d you take him?”

“Seventy7.”

“Your date spot?”

“My source meeting spot.” Penny took a sip of her coffee.

“So, he’s a source? What are you cooking up?”

Penny looked around, making sure they were far away from anyone who might be eavesdropping on their conversation. “He has a new album coming out sometime this year. Tom told me and so did Harry. And I was thinking, maybe if I got a scoop on it, it would impress Darren and would give me a better shot at landing some stories.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “But in what world is this a good idea? Did you miss the ethics class freshman year? You know the one about unbiased reporting? Keeping friends and family out of stories? Do you recall any of that? Or were you too hypnotized by his ravishing good looks during your date that all rational thought left your head?”

“He’s neither friend nor family and it wasn’t a date. It was networking. A source meeting. You have those all the time.”

“Yeah, at premieres where I’m talking to 50 year-old men I most certainly don’t want to fuck.”

“I don’t want to fuck Harry.”

“OK, that was great,” Chloe said. “Let’s take that once more though, and this time make me believe you actually believe what you’re saying.”

“I don’t want to fuck him,” Penny said definitively.

Chloe held her gaze waiting for her friend to break. “Well all right then we’ve settled it.” Penny’s phone buzzed again. “What’s your ‘source’ want now?”

Penny unlocked her phone, angling the screen so Chloe could see the four texts Harry had sent.

Hey. How’re you?

I’m in the studio today so I’m on your side of town. Might be stopping by the office to talk to Jeff about something too.

Been listening to this today. Have you heard of it?

Um, any chance you want to grab a drink? Maybe dinner?

“Do you usually get dinner with sources?” Chloe asked with a grin.

“First time for everything,” Penny said, replying to Harry’s message.

Yeah, maybe tomorrow?

His reply came back fast. How’s tonight?

“Someone’s eager,” Chloe laughed.

“What’s wrong with that? Maybe I’ll get what I need.” After confirming the time and location, Penny slid her phone into her bag. “Now where were we?”

“You were profusely denying your attraction to Harry. Unbelievably, I might add.”

“Chlo, I don’t know how many times I can say this…I’m simply tolerating him to get something from him.”

“This is the part in the rom com where the sassy best friend tells the plucky protagonist that she’s making a mistake because she’s going to develop real feelings.”

“And this is the part in the rom com where I go back to my desk and actually get some work done.”

Penny spun on her heel and started back towards the office, leaving Chloe to catch up behind her. Penny spent the rest of the afternoon bouncing between edits to a listicle about “10 Songs You Didn’t Realize Were Turning 10 in 2019” and making a list of things she wanted to ask Harry that night. How far along was the album? Was he close to announcing a release date? A single? Were the songs he’d been sending her any indication of what his new tracks would sound like? A few minutes before five, she slammed her laptop shut, tossing it into the canvas tote that doubled as her purse and work bag these days.

“See you tomorrow,” she called to Chloe and Devon, one of their graphic designers. Devon waved, quickly turning his attention back to his monitor, while Chloe spun in her chair.

“Make good choices tonight,” she called with a sly wink. “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“You’ll be my one call if I do,” Penny called cheerfully over her shoulder, as Chloe’s laugh echoed through the mostly empty newsroom.

Penny pulled out of the parking garage, cruising through the streets to the restaurant Harry had texted her. It was a bit further out than she usually traveled during the week, but when she looked on the map, it looked like it was midway between her neighborhood and his. Neutral territory. She drummed along to the song on the radio – something by Justin Timberlake – as she waited for the light to turn, catching a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. Several strands of hair had escaped from her ponytail and she had a smudge of eyeliner under her left eye.

Ugh. This was not how she wanted to show up to dinner. Eyeing the light and the number of cars in front of her, she shook out her hair, retying it into something slightly neater before rubbing at the smudge under her eye. That looked better, right? She continued to stare at her reflection. What was missing? Lipstick? She thought she had one that wasn’t too old in her bag. After one more glance at the light, she rooted through her tote until she found a neutral coral color that wouldn’t look too out of place on her face. She was just about to apply it to her lips when the car behind her laid on their horn.

“OK, sorry. I’m going!” she cried out to no one in particular. Lipstick would have to wait. But as she made the final turns of her journey and pulled into the parking lot, she couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the need to get dressed up for Harry. This was essentially a business meeting. She gave one final glance at the lipstick that was now on her passenger seat and decided to forgo it. Source meeting, business dinner, not a date. She locked her car and made her way inside. Harry had texted her that he was already there at a table in the back, a message she relayed to the host at the lobby of the restaurant.

“Party name?” he asked.

“Ugh…” She stumbled over her words. “Harry Styles,” she whispered, unsure if she was breaking some unspoken rule by saying his full name aloud.

The host smiled knowingly. “Right through here. You’ll see him seated towards the back. Have a nice evening.”

“Thanks, you too!” Penny said, walking through the curtain that separated the dining room from the lobby.

Her eyes swept over the room, adjusting to the dim lighting as she looked for Harry, finding him on a second glance. He lifted his hand and waved gently, a soft smile on his face. She strode briskly to the table, and he stood as she approached.

“Hey,” he said when she was within earshot. “You look nice.”

Penny looked down at her worn jeans, t-shirt, and blazer. “Thanks?”

“Shit, that was weird,” Harry said with a laugh.

“No. Hey, I’ll take it. You look…nice…too.” It wasn’t a lie. Harry would look fantastic wearing anything in any situation, but there was something about him that was different from the last time she’d seen him. He looked tired. Stressed. “How have you been?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Good, good. Staying busy, lots going on,” Harry said, returning to his seat once Penny had sat down. “Been spending some long days in the studio which is…great, but also tiring.”

“I can imagine.”

“You?”

“Oh, pretty similar actually. Not that I’m in a studio, but just a lot of work stuff. They haven’t hired a new news writer yet so I’m kind of doing the work of two people right now, and then there’s a lot of late nights with concerts and stuff and oh my God I should stop talking.” She laughed nervously.

“No, you’re good,” Harry said with a chuckle. “See anyone cool lately.”

“I saw John Legend last week, and I’m seeing a jazz ensemble tomorrow.”

“Sick.”

“Yeah.”

An awkward pause fell over the table as Harry sipped his water and Penny fidgeted with the silverware in front of her. Mercifully, a waiter appeared to take their drink orders.

“I’ll do the Moscato,” Harry said after perusing the wine menu.

“Oh, that sounds good. I’ll have some as well,” Penny said, returning her own menu.

“Should I bring a bottle for the table?” the waiter asked.

“Uh, sure,” Harry said. “Is that OK?” He looked at Penny who just nodded. “The bottle would be great, thanks.”

The waiter disappeared and returned shortly, pouring their wine and taking their dinner orders, before leaving them alone. Silence once again filled the space between them.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Penny asked at the same time Harry asked if she had listened to the song he’d sent her. They both laughed.

“I just thought we could catch up. Make good on that promise of ‘next time,’” he said, swirling the wine in his glass.

“Oh yeah,” Penny took a sip of her own wine. “You said you’d been getting lots of studio time in. I assume the new project is coming along nicely.”

“It’s certainly coming along. I’m not sure about nicely.”

“Why not?”

Harry let out a long breath. “Things aren’t going as easily as I hoped. I feel like everything I’ve written in the past couple of weeks has been shit.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s a lie.”

“I don’t know. If you heard what I finished before I came here you might think differently.”

“You write with others, right?” Penny asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, Tom, Tyler, Mitch. That’s the usual crew.”

“Good group. I’m not super familiar with Mitch’s work, but I’m sure he’s top tier if you’re working with him.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment for me or Mitch, but I’ll accept it regardless.”

Penny thought about shooting back a “Why would I compliment you?” but seeing how drained Harry looked, she refrained. “Is there something in particular that’s holding you up?”

“Well, I did some writing while I was touring, and then did a lot of writing earlier this year when I was in Japan. But I still don’t feel like the album’s done. It’s like the secret ingredient is missing or something. But sometimes I feel like I’m the only person that feels that way and that everyone else just wants to wrap it up to get it out there.”

“You have to listen to your gut then,” Penny said without hesitation.

“Easier said than done.”

“No, seriously if you think something is missing, I think you have to hone in on that feeling. Really listen to what your heart and your gut are telling you. Only you know what your album needs to be. Collaboration is great and it clearly works when you have the right group of people together, but when you start letting everyone’s voice in the room, that’s when things start to feel inauthentic. And there’s nothing worse than listening to an album where you know it’s not what the artist fully believes.”

“You can tell?” Harry said, somewhat surprised.

“Well, it’s not like I know everyone personally,” Penny began. “But it’s just a feeling you get when you’ve listened to a lot of stuff. Artists have their signature, and it’s always there even when they start experimenting. Like let’s use Rihanna as an example. If she suddenly started writing about the good life on the farm and drinking beer on the porch with her dog, it would just feel weird, like a label pushing her to replicate the hot new country song. But good artists don’t need to follow the trends, they set them.”

Harry nodded, which Penny took as a sign to continue. “Like for example, your first album.” She took a breath knowing she was potentially treading on thin ice. “It really set the standard for your sound as a solo artist. It’s an album that is clearly very modern, but very heavily influenced by 60s and 70s rock. So, people know to expect that from you. You’re the guy that makes vintage modern and cool. But, perhaps that album was a little too cookie cutter, which I think you know. So this time around, maybe you needed to take a couple of risks, make an album that shows the world who Harry really is. Each album is an opportunity to change the trajectory of your career and I think you should act on it.” Harry stared at her, speechless. “Sorry, if I overstepped,” she said.

“No no, you didn’t,” he said. “Fuck that was exactly what I needed to hear.” He ran his hands over his face. “It’s just that even when I try to insulate myself from the noise, it leaks through. Comments about sales and singles and streaming and charting and all of this stuff that will really determine if I get to keep doing this. And it just makes me get so caught up in my head…” he trailed off.

“I do the same thing sometimes,” Penny replied. “I just get so focused on if this article will get more clicks than the last one, or if it will get good traction on social and help me ‘build my brand.’ I just forget why I do this job.”

Harry nodded. “It can be easy to lose that reason why.”

Their waiter used the break in the conversation to deliver their food, and Penny tucked into her chicken parm, savoring the dish that was a massive step up from her usual combo of a pre-packaged salad and Easy Mac.

“About those songs, you sent me,” Penny began.

“Oh! Did you like them?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Surprisingly?”

“Yeah, I'm admittedly not the biggest country fan,” Penny said. “And to be honest, I’m pretty surprised you're into that kind of music.”

“Oh, I love it,” Harry said, leaning closer and speaking faster. “Country artists are hands down the best at telling a story in a song. I’d like to be able to do that one day. You know, write about an experience that isn’t mine? Or at least tell a story of my own.”

“You’re well on your way to doing that.”

Harry flushed but ignored the remark. “I, uh, liked the playlist you sent me. I’ve been listening to it in the mornings.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like I’ve heard almost all of the songs before, but not in that way. They tell a different story when you listen to them back-to-back like that.”

“Oh, well thanks. I’ve always prided myself on making good playlists.”

“If you have another, send it my way,” Harry said, taking a bite of his pasta. “I’d love to hear more of what you’ve put together.”

“Well, I’ll have to send you my ‘Bad Bitch’ playlist that I listen to ahead of meetings with my editor.”

“Please.”

She had meant it as a joke, but Harry clearly didn’t take it that way. “Oh yeah, I’ll send it now.” She picked up her phone and sent him the link. “Enjoy. I hope you’re able to find your inner bad bitch.”

“I’ll keep you updated on my progress.”

When the waiter dropped the check on the table, Harry swiftly collected it, placing his card in the leather holder, ignoring Penny’s protests.

“I’m the one who invited you,” he said. “It’s only fair that I pay.”

Penny chewed on her lip. It was basic ethics that journalists didn’t accept gifts from sources. You always paid and kept your fingers crossed that your publication would reimburse you. “I can’t let you.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” What was she supposed to say? I accepted your invite because I wanted to hear about your album? I want to use you for my own personal gains? “Because it’s 2019 and women can pay for themselves.”

“Tell you what, you pay for me next time?”

“You and these next times,” Penny said with a laugh. “Always asking for more.”

“I just thought you were having fun and I was –”

“Harry, I’m kidding. It would be great to see you again. You’re actually pleasant to be around when you’re not acting like an asshole.”

“Two compliments in one night? I should buy you dinner more often!”

“I think that will be the next next time.”

Harry laughed and Penny noticed how when he found something funny, really truly funny, the skin around his eyes crinkled as his dimples deepened. She felt a rush of pride knowing she brought that out in him.

Harry’s phone chirped and the dimples and crinkles disappeared as he looked down at the incoming message. “I guess I should be going. Duty calls.”

“Heading back to the studio?”

“Yeah…” The lightness had disappeared from him.

“I know it’s easy for me, the person that will be critiquing your album, to say, but just write what you feel, Harry. You can’t go wrong with that.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

Penny rose from the table and Harry followed her to the exit. “Have a great rest of your night,” she said, unlocking her car.

“Yeah, you too,” Harry said, swaying on his feet. “I’ll uh, see you later?”

“Definitely! I think I’m free on Wednesday. I’ll text you.”

Harry smiled, and Penny felt warm inside, and marveled at how he could make her feel so good with just one gesture. “I’m looking forward to that,” he said. “Drive safe.”

As she drove home, Penny listened to the songs Harry had sent her over the week, really paying attention to the lyrics and the stories Harry had been talking about. He was right. They were some of the best she’d heard.

It wasn’t until Penny pulled into her parking spot in front of her building that she realized she didn’t get answers to any of her questions.

***

Harry took the quickest route to the studio from the restaurant, opening the voice notes app on his phone when he was stopped at a red light. He spoke quickly, tripping over his words, wanting to make sure he captured everything he was feeling in the moment. When he reached the studio, he rushed in, nearly bumping into Tyler as he turned the corner.

“Wasn’t expecting you to come back tonight, H,” Tyler said.

“I wasn’t either but inspiration struck and…”

“No, I get it,” Tyler said. “Want to get to work?”

“Let’s do it.”

***

The next morning, Penny awoke to a message from Harry.

I think I’ve finally found my inner bad bitch. Thanks for all the help.

***

Over the next couple of weeks, Penny and Harry fell into a rhythm. He’d text her, usually at night when she was getting home from a gig, and they’d message back and forth until one of them fell asleep. They met up for impromptu drinks a few times and got coffee a couple of others. Their outings were usually initiated by Harry, and Penny was more than happy to go along with his suggestions. She kept reminding herself that this was just for work, but she couldn’t deny how much she was enjoying their time together.

Penny had just left Darren’s office one Wednesday afternoon, clenching her hands so hard, she was sure her nails had drawn blood. He’d killed another one of her features, even after suggesting she write it, and everything felt pointless. She was back at her desk deciding what her next move would be – get coffee or cry in the bathroom – when her phone rang. Seeing Harry’s name on the caller ID, she answered almost immediately.

“Hey,” Harry said, his voice tinged with surprise.

“Hey.” Penny could hear the waver in her own voice.

“Is now a bad time?” Harry asked.

“No.”

“You sound…upset,” Harry said cautiously.

“Just a typical day here.”

“Would you have time to take a break? Maybe get a coffee? I’m at Full Stop today.”

Penny looked at her watch. She had time to spare and the way things had been going lately, Harry might be the perfect way to improve her mood. “Sure. I can meet you at Blue Bottle in like 10 minutes.”

“See you there.”

Penny ended the call and grabbed her wallet. “I’ll be back later,” she said to Chloe. Blue Bottle was just a quick walk from her office and she stood outside the coffee shop, rocking back and forth on her heels until she saw Harry approach.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes searching her for obvious signs of distress. “I’m glad you were able to sneak away.”

“Yeah, I needed the break.” Penny gestured to the register inside. “Want to order now?”

Harry nodded and followed Penny inside, ordering an iced Americano after she’d asked for a vanilla latte.

“This was supposed to be my treat,” Harry said as Penny inserted her card into the machine to pay. “I invited you.”

“Next time’s on you,” Penny said with a tight grin, moving off to the side to wait for their drinks, handing Harry a straw.

“So…” Harry said, picking the paper straw wrapper. “Are we going to talk about whatever’s happening here?”

“What? Nothing’s going on.”

“It’s just, you sounded upset on the phone,” Harry said. “And now you just look kind of sad. Stressed.”

“Gee thanks.”

“I didn’t mean that as a bad thing. I was just worried that something was going on.”

Penny looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. It was truly touching how concerned he was, but it also felt monumental. Like whatever she said in response would change the course of whatever was happening between them. “Thanks,” she said after a moment. “It’s just been a rough day at work after a string of rough days.”

“Want to talk about them?”

Penny sighed. “It’s my editor.”

Harry nodded. “I remember you talking about him. He’s the one that keeps shitting on your ideas.”

Penny whipped around to look at him again. “You remember?”

“Yeah, because I thought he sounded like a dick from what you told me.”

“Well, I can confirm that he is. And what he’s been doing recently is instead of letting me pitch stories, he’s assigning me his own pitches, and then even after I follow every single one of his stupid-ass rules, he still kills the story. Now, some of my sources are starting to get cagey since they don’t love sitting down for a call for an article that never materializes and I just feel like a terrible writer and it’s just hard. I feel like I’m stuck and that I’ll never get out.” She looked at Harry “Well, that’s what’s new with me. How about you?” She laughed nervously, aware she’d just spilled her guts to the man who was her mortal enemy mere weeks ago.

“I’m really sorry you’re having to deal with this,” Harry said.

“I know it’s something everyone in a creative field goes through since art is so subjective but it’s just really tough when it feels like you’re the only one experiencing it.”

“Could I read it?”

“What?”

“Your story. The one Darren just killed,” Harry prompted.

“I don’t think you’d be interested. It’s really boring about music licensing and copyright law.”

“I don’t know. I’m a musician. I have songs. Feels pretty applicable.”

Penny sighed. “I’m just -”

“Trying to come up with another excuse?”

“Fine.” Penny unlocked her phone and opened the Google Docs app, navigating to the doc with the story she’d filed earlier that day. “Here,” she said, handing Harry her phone and walking away.

“Woah, where are you going?”

“I’m not going to stand here and watch you read my article. That’s just a form of cruel and unusual punishment. I’m going to wait over there.”

“No you’re not.” Harry grabbed Penny’s hand and pulled her back to his side, not letting go of her hand, even when she was standing next to him.

Penny froze. Harry didn’t appear to register what he was doing as he bowed his head and started to read the screen on the phone he held in his other hand. She stood there, next to him, watching as he read her work. The crinkle that emerged between his eyebrows as he focused, the way his mouth moved as he scanned the page, the way he nodded when he came across certain phrases.

“Latte and Americano for Penny,” the barista called.

Penny cleared her throat. “I should get those,” she said softly.

Harry looked down at the hands. “Oh, right, sorry. Didn’t mean to hold on like that.”

Penny fetched their drinks and when she returned, Harry had migrated to a small table in the corner where he finished reading the article. She didn’t want to fish for compliments, but was curious about what he thought. “Sooo,” she said, handing him the cup.

“I don’t know who your editor is but he’s an idiot for not publishing this. I heard a couple of people at Columbia discussing this last week. People would want to read this.”

“Maybe I should bring you back to the office to see if Darren will listen to you.”

“I am free for a couple more hours.”

Penny grinned. “Thanks. For…everything.”

“No, thanks needed, You’re a fantastic writer, Penny.”

“I wish Darren believed that. Hell, I wish I believed that.”

“Artists are always the most critical of themselves,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“Do you know that from personal experience?”

Harry let out a long sigh and nodded. “It has been a week.”

“Making any progress?” Penny asked, trying to sound casual.

“Kind of. But the label is asking for something that’s more radio friendly and I just don’t want to give it to them. Probably because I don’t know how to give it to them,” he added under his breath.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve got a good team. You’re…smart.”

Harry laughed. “You don’t sound so sure about that.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” Penny said. “You just have like good music sense. It’s something that can’t be taught.” Harry stared at her blankly. “What? Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m just trying to remember when you started being so nice to me.”

“Shut up! You’re so stupid,” Penny said, flicking her straw wrapper at him.

“Shut up!” Harry shot back, mocking her tone as flicked the paper back towards her.

The two giggled, shooting the paper back and forth until Harry put a little too much muscle into it, causing the paper to land on the back of the woman behind Penny.

“So athletics aren’t your strong suit?” she teased.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Penny?”

Penny turned around and came face to face with Darren. Was no place safe? “H-h-hi,” she spluttered. “I was just taking a break. I’ll be back at the office soon.”

“Oh no worries,” Darren said smoothly. “I can tell you’re busy.” He eyed Harry. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, pleasure,” Harry said, extending his hand for a handshake that Darren reciprocated. “I’m Harry.”

Darren nodded, not bothering to reciprocate the introduction. “Well, I’ll see you at the office, Penny.”

“Mhmm, talk soon.” Penny waited until she was sure Darren had left the coffee shop before turning back to Harry. “Fuck, I didn’t think he’d come here. He usually hates anything that brings people joy.”

“Was that weird? That was weird,” Harry said.

“It was.” Penny hadn’t been able to interpret what Darren had been thinking when he walked over there, but she didn’t think she’d be able to pretend like it hadn’t happened when she eventually made her way back to the newsroom.

“I think you could take him though,” Harry said.

“Excuse me?”

“I think you could beat him in a fight. Especially if it was a war of words.”

“Well, we’ve had a couple of those and they typically end with me hiding somewhere to cry.” Harry didn’t say anything and just stared at Penny with an indiscernible expression on his face. “But you didn’t need to know that…” she trailed off.

“You’re good at your job, Penny. Don’t let anyone try to convince you you’re not.”

“Thanks? Not sure if I believe that coming from the guy who bullied me over my writing a couple of weeks ago, but I’ll keep that in my back pocket.” Harry shook his head. “What?” Penny pressed.

“I’m always going to feel terrible about the way I treated you,” Harry said. “It had nothing to do with you, though. It was all about me.”

“Oh?”

“What bothered me was that everything you said was true. In that review you were just pointing out things that were painfully obvious. I just had my head so far up my own ass I couldn’t see. And when I read your words, I just felt so vulnerable.  Like if you noticed how guarded and cheap that album was, how many other people did too? I put everything into that it. What if that’s the best I have to offer? What if I never do anything better than that? Do you know what it feels like to question your worth and purpose like that every fucking day?”

“Of course I do. My job is to share my opinions online only to get yelled at by trolls on Twitter who think my being a woman means I don’t have a brain. Or feelings. Each day when I walk into work I have to brace myself for whatever shit Darren is going to throw at me. I have to watch men who know fuck all get chances that I deserve and anytime I try to do anything about it, I’m the one who gets punished. It’s exhausting and stresses me out more than it should, but if I woke up tomorrow and couldn’t do that, I’d be lost. It’s sadistic, but I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Harry blinked slowly. “I do,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think anyone has ever described it like that before, but that’s exactly it.”

They finished their drinks while checking their phones and it wasn’t lost on Penny how even sitting in silence with Harry felt comfortable, like they were old friends. She could have sat with him like that forever, but eventually Harry sighed, signaling the end of their time together.

“I probably need to be getting back,” he said. His face looked drawn and Penny couldn’t tell what had changed.

“Yeah, I should get back too.”

“I’ll walk you over.”

Penny got up and pushed in her chair as Harry disposed of their cups and wrappers. He met her at the door and held it open, walking alongside her when they were out on the sidewalk.

“Are you going back to the studio?” Penny asked. “Or is this a business day?”

“The studio. Hopefully things will fall together soon.”

“Well, break a leg? Good luck? I’m not sure what recording studio protocol is.”

“Any of those will work.” Harry glanced over at her. “Um, I’m assuming you’re back to work.”

“Yeah, not really sure what I’m going to work on for the rest of the day, but I’ll find something.”

“Try not to think about Darren. I mean it.”

“Well you can’t think about the studio execs when you write.”

“Deal.” Harry stopped outside Penny’s office as she pulled her ID from her pocket. “I’ll see you later.” He put his hand on her shoulder and then paused, as if it was a step too far. “Text me or something?”

Penny reached up and covered his hand with hers. “Definitely. Maybe we could do dinner sometime this week if you’re in the area.”

“Yeah, I’ll be around.”

“Great.” Harry’s hand was still on her shoulder as she awkwardly shifted towards the door. “Have a great rest of your day,” Penny said softly.

“You too,” Harry mumbled, breathless as he watched her walk inside.

***

Penny hadn’t been at her desk for more than a minute when Darren strode out of his office straight for her desk. “Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath. She looked around, hoping that someone would be around to diffuse the conversation, but the newsroom was surprisingly empty.

“Penny,” Darren began, voice echoing in the empty room.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t realize you knew Harry Styles?”

“Um, that’s a recent connection. We have a mutual friend.”

“Very cool.” Darren sat on the edge of Chloe’s desk, clicking the pen in his hand. “Learn anything from him?” he asked, attempting to sound casual.

“Not really. Like I said, I only met him recently.”

“That’s a shame. Any scoop from him could be big. Keep an ear out.”

“Um, sure,” Penny said.

“Keep me in the loop on any developments.”

Penny would rather chew glass than keep Darren “in the loop” but she just nodded pleasantly, hoping her agreement would make him go away. “Will do,” she said.

“Great!” Darren hopped off of the desk and headed back to his office, nearly bumping into Chloe as she walked in, coffee and pastry in hand.

“What was that about?” Chloe asked. She wiped off the edge of her desk when she was sure Darren’s door was closed.

“So, Darren ran into me and Harry while we were getting coffee.”

“Ooh, tell me more.”

“He started pumping me for info on Harry–”

“No!” Chloe whined. “Not about Darren, about Harry. I didn’t know you all were meeting up.”

“It was an impromptu thing. He was in the area and I needed a breather.”

“And Darren saw you?”

“Yes, and I think he wants me to leverage my…knowledge…of Harry to get a scoop on something.” Penny chewed on her lip. “I feel conflicted.”

“Babe, that’s exactly what you’ve been planning this whole time! I told you it was a bad idea then and I still think it’s a bad idea. You really think any idea Darren has is a good one?” She said his name in a tone usually reserved for dog shit.

“I know, I know,” Penny moaned. “But I’m just kind of torn because getting anything on him would be great for me but it would ruin our -”

“Burgeoning love affair?” Chloe cut her off.

“No, our friendship or whatever the hell it is.”

“Pen, I think you know what the right move is here. So I’m not going to tell you. You’re better than this and you are smarter than this. Don’t be a Darren!”

Penny clicked the cap on and off of the pen as she thought about Chloe’s words. “There has to be a way I can do the best of both worlds. I mean, critics and journalists hang out with the subjects of their writing all of the time. I can make this work.”

“I will make sure not to tell you ‘told you so’ when this blows up in your face.”

“That’s why you’re my best friend.” They sat at their respective desks and worked until it was closing time. Penny said goodbye and headed to her car. As she stepped outside of the building, she impulsively turned left, taking the circuitous route that would take her in front of Full Stop’s office. As she approached the building, she squinted looking in the windows. She didn’t know what she was hoping to find but she felt an extreme sense of disappointment when she didn’t see Harry.

She finished her walk to the garage, climbing in her car and turning the radio on first thing. As she drove home, her mind wandered – to Darren, to her brother’s upcoming birthday (she still needed to find a card), to Chloe’s annual film festival – but her thoughts were mainly occupied by Harry. What was he doing at this moment? Was he still at the studio? Was he out with friends?

Her phone chimed as she pulled into her parking space. It was a text from Harry. A link to a song. She smiled as she put her headphones on to listen.

***

Are you busy?

Three little words and her heart started racing.

It had been a few days since her impromptu coffee with Harry, they’d talked even more than usual. Penny woke up to texts from Harry – songs, random musings, once, a funny YouTube video – and his messages were also what lulled her to sleep. She wasn’t sure what to call this new stage, but felt that friendship was a good start.

Penny counted to twenty before responding. Not really. What do you need?

She could see him typing in the message thread.

I’m working today and am a little stuck on something. I wanted to get your advice. A voice note followed the message. Take a listen and let me know what you think.

Penny’s phone burned hot in her hand with the knowledge of what that message contained. She rose from her desk, searched for her earbuds and rushed off to find a quiet spot in the office to listen to the note. In the dim hallway that led the kitchen, she pushed her earbuds in and turned up the volume before pressing play.

It was an unfinished demo, but despite the rough nature of the recording, she could tell this song was something special. It started off with a strong drum section before Harry’s vocals came in. His higher register, smoother than ever. She closed her eyes, Even with shitty discount earbuds she could feel the beat pulsing, throbbing, echoing within her. It was magic. When it finished playing, she hit play again, focusing on the lyrics this time through. Phrases about shining, stepping into the light, recurred throughout, and while it was beyond her to speculate the meaning of the lyrics, they felt deeply personal. The kind of personal that everyone could relate to. The hallmark of a good song.

She listened a third time for good measure before typing out her response. Initial reaction, I love it. On more listens, it feels like the bass and drums might be a little too much. There’s an intimacy to this song and you don’t want to lose that. Find a way to balance the two and you’ve got a hit.

Harry’s reply came quickly. You’re exactly right! Thanks!

Any time.

“Penny?”

She looked up from her phone to see Darren in front of her, mug in hand, clearly on his way to get some of the paltry excuse for coffee kept in the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

She searched her brain for a reason she’d be standing in a dark hallway with her headphones. “I was taking a call,” she finally said. “It was a little noisy in the main room and I just needed some quiet.”

“OK, well that’s what we have the call booths for. Keep that in mind.” Darren stared at her and Penny prayed he wouldn’t be able to sniff out the real reason she was there.

“I should go,” she said, dashing towards her desk.

“All good?” Chloe asked, taking in the panic on Penny’s phase.

“You-know-who almost caught me with a demo the other you-know-who sent me,” Penny said, voice low.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, it was a little too close for comfort.”

“Why?”

Penny turned around in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s think this through,” Chloe said. “Why are you so concerned about Darren finding out what you know?”

“Because it’s an ethics issue.”

“Why is it an ethics issue?”

“Because I know Harry. We’ve gotten drinks together.”

“OK, yes,” Chloe prompted. “But how is that any different from you getting drinks with Paul at a networking event and then quoting him in a piece? Or when you went to dinner with those investors that were funding that new streaming startup and then wrote a story?”

“It’s just different. My brother’s best friend didn’t introduce me to them.”

“But he did introduce you to Janice and you quoted her.”

“I-that’s not the same and you know it.”

“You want to know what I think?” Chloe asked.

“Not particularly.”

“I think that three weeks ago you thought this scheme was a great idea but then you actually spent time with Harry and now you care about him and you don’t want him to know you were using him and you also don’t want to risk your reputation.”

Penny scoffed. “You are so off base.”

“Am I? You haven’t looked me in the eye since you sat down and your hands are shaking. You’re lying and we both know it.”

“It’s not what you think,” Penny said. “I didn’t want Darren to know because if he gets ahold of the story he’ll probably kill it and I don’t want that to happen. I’m saving it for one of our editorial meetings so I can have Skylar there as backup.” She hoped the lie sounded more convincing than it felt.

“Sure,” Chloe said. “Do you want to get drinks after work tonight?” she asked, smartly changing the subject.

Penny nodded in agreement, but inside she was wondering why she was so scared to tell her best friend the truth.

***

Penny paced in her kitchen keeping an eye on her phone on the counter, willing it to light up with a new notification. It had been three days since Harry had shared his demo, forcing her  to confront the emotions that had been brewing inside of her for the past few months.

She’d reached out a couple of times. First to ask how the rest of his studio session went, and then to share some more songs and music videos she liked. And when those went unanswered, she reached out again, asking if everything was OK only to be met with radio silence. She was fairly certain that nothing was wrong, but concern lurked in the back of her mind, and after a few more minutes of pacing, she grabbed her phone and keys and headed for her car.

She scrolled through her messages until she found Harry’s address which she programmed into her GPS. When she pulled up to the gate, she pressed the buzzer. Then hit it again. And again. And again. Finally, she heard Harry’s voice through the crackly speaker.

“Hello?” His voice sounded different than usual and she couldn’t be sure if it was because of the speaker or something else.

“Uh, it’s Penny. I hadn’t heard from you and was a little nervous since we were supposed to go to that show tonight?”

“Oh, fuck. Come on in.”

She heard a loud buzz and then the gates parted, allowing her to drive in. She glanced at the landscaping as she drove up the path. It was nice and well-maintained, definitely not by him, and she appreciated the views the property offered. She put the car in park in front of the garage. Harry was standing on the front stoop waiting for her.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked, voice gravely even without the interference of the intercom. “I came down with this spring flu or something. I’ve been out of commission for a few days.”

“Don’t apologize. I was just worried.” Shit. That wasn’t what she meant to say. “Like just since we had these tickets. I wasn’t sure if you still wanted them or…”

“Yeah, of course. I honestly don’t think I’m up for a show tonight. I’m better, but still not 100%.”

“No, I get it.” Penny rocked back and forth on her feet. “Do you want some company?”

Harry paused. “What about the show?”

“One of my friends had been asking about the tickets. I can give them to her.” It felt wrong to go if Harry wasn’t there, not that she’d ever admit that to him.

“Uh, sure,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Come on in. It’s a little messy.”

Penny followed him inside, toeing off her shoes in the front hall. She padded behind Harry as he led her into a den. The large sectional was covered in pillows and blankets and he cleared a spot off on one side of the couch, making room for Penny.

“Make yourself at home,” Harry said, a sniffle punctuating his statement.

“Can I get you anything?” Penny asked.

“You're my guest. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“But you’re sick.”

Harry shrugged. “There’s water, juice, beer, and wine in the kitchen. There might be some ginger ale left as well.”

“Ooh my favorite.”

“Help yourself. I’ll have one too.”

Penny grabbed a couple of cans from the fridge, trying not to gawk at the gourmet kitchen around her. “Ice?” she called over her shoulder.

“No thanks.”

She handed Harry one of the cans and they popped the tabs in synchronicity, grinning at their timing.

“Should we be drinking to your health?” Penny asked, before sipping from the can.

Harry grinned. “I can use any and all well wishes. This just knocked me out. I can’t remember the last time I was that sick.” He shuddered as if reliving a traumatic memory.

“It must have been pretty rough. I was worried about not hearing from you.” That was a normal thing to say, right? Penny was suddenly second guessing her words. “I mean just because we had the plans for the show,” she quickly explained.

“No, I apologize. I wasn’t really with it for a couple of days and was pretty useless. Thankfully I had some people looking out for me.”

At that moment, there was nothing Penny wanted to know more than who these people were. “That’s nice. I’m assuming Jeff stopped by?”

Harry nodded. “And Glenne. They brought me some soup and bread. Glenne is Jeff’s girlfriend,” he clarified.

“Oh.”

“And now you are stopping by. I’ve clearly got a village looking after me.”

“Um, yeah.” Penny didn’t know what was wrong with her. On the drive over, she’d been filled with thoughts of what she’d say when she saw Harry, but now that she was with him her mind was blank. “How does it work when you're sick? Like do you have to take a sick day?” What the fuck kind of question was that, she thought to herself. She took a sip of ginger ale.

“Uh, like not really. Sometimes I try to work through it but since we aren’t on a hard deadline I just tried to take it easy. Figured taking a few days off might also help me get in a better place creatively.” He stroked his chin. “Not sure that worked but I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Penny stared at Harry until she realized it was her turn to speak. “I do a similar thing when I have writer’s block.”

Harry looked at her questioningly. “Get sick?”

“No, like, try to take a break.” She took another sip of her drink. “This is weird. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m just going to head out.” She rose from the couch.

“Why is it weird?” Harry asked, voice still strained from his illness. “We were going to the show tonight, why can’t we just hang out here instead? Watch a movie or something? Play a board game?”

Penny laughed. “A board game?”

“I happen to be a next level Scrabble player.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nodded. “And I can prove it to you if you’ll stay and play with me.”

Penny rubbed her thumb along her can, catching a drop of condensation. What did this mean – the two of them hanging out together without a concert or shop talk as a buffer. The two of them alone in Harry’s house altered the stakes in a significant way. The lines between source and friend and whatever else was lurking in the background were significantly blurred and she felt like she was playing with fire. “Sure,” she said. “Just let me send these tickets to Chloe so someone can make use of them.”

“Great! I’ll find the game.”

Just as Penny pressed the transfer button, Harry reappeared, a worn and well-loved Scrabble box in his hand. “Get comfortable, I’m serious,” he said, easing down onto the floor and setting the Scrabble board up on the coffee table.

Penny shrugged off her cardigan, laying it on the couch behind her before joining Harry on the floor. “How does this work?”

“You’ve never played?” he asked incredulously as Penny shook her head. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know,” Penny laughed. “I just never played. I’m honestly not a huge board game person.”

“I can’t believe I let you into my house,” Harry deadpanned. “Not a board game person! Madness!”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and teach me how to play.”

Harry started explaining the rules as finished setting up the pieces and Penny tried not to giggle at his excitement and the way he tripped over his words as he laid everything out for her. It wasn’t a complicated game and Penny quickly caught on, relishing the few times she was able to land a double or triple word score, much to Harry’s chagrin.

“I thought you said you hadn’t played before!” he exclaimed.

“I haven’t!”

“How are you so good?”

“Harry, I write for a living and it’s a word game, not fucking brain surgery.”

“Beginner’s luck!”

“Or maybe I’m just better than you!”

They were in the middle of their second game before Penny realized that they hadn’t said a thing about their jobs. No mention of new albums or concerts or studio executives or editors. And the conversation managed to feel easy. It felt like she was with someone she’d known forever, and she loved how comforting that felt.

As they were finishing up the game, Penny could see that Harry’s energy was waning. His laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore and he seemed a little dazed after a couple of coughing fits. “Would you want to switch to a movie or something?” she suggested gently.

“That would be nice,” he relented after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m going to make some tea before, though. Would you like some?”

“Sure, I can help.”

Harry looked like he was about to protest but after glancing at Penny, he abandoned whatever he was about to say, gesturing for her to lead the way. They stood side by side in the kitchen as the water boiled, and Penny tried not to shiver when Harry’s hand grazed hers as he handed her a teabag. Beverages in hand, they made their way back to the couch. Harry stretched out, fishing for the remote among the cushions and Penny plopped down across from him. Harry flicked through the various films available turning to Penny every so often to gauge her opinion before finally settling on a comedy they’d both seen before.

For the first half of the film, they made each other laugh, reciting the memorable lines along with the actors on screen, but after an hour or so, Penny heard an odd noise coming from where Harry was sprawled. His head was resting on the arm of the couch and he had his arms folded over his chest, as if he was trying to curl into himself. His chest rose and fell evenly as soft snores came from his lips. The moment felt too intimate and Penny felt as though she should avert her eyes. But try as she might, she couldn’t.

This was the Harry she’d gotten to know over the past few weeks, the one who was vulnerable and second guessed himself and who cared about things so deeply he let them consume him. The one who looked out for those around him and was surprised when people did the same for him. The Harry who wanted to be her friend.

In that moment, everything clicked for Penny and she felt like she was seeing clearly for the first time in weeks. She couldn’t betray Harry. She’d figure out another way to deal with Darren and find the career changing scoop, but she couldn’t risk losing Harry. If she was this concerned about not hearing from him for three days, what would happen if he was out of her life forever?

Penny wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with her newfound clarity, but being in Harry’s presence in the wake of the revelation felt suffocating. She needed to get out of his house. Gingerly, she reached over to turn the television off before placing a blanket over his sleeping form. She grabbed her cardigan and shoved her feet in her shoes only to open the door and come face to face with Jeff.

“Heeeyyy,” he said cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi!” Penny said quickly, stepping out onto the porch and gently closing the door behind her. “How are you?”

“Fine. I-I don’t mean to be rude but I’m just confused as to what you’re doing here.” Jeff laughed lightly.

“So Harry and I were supposed to go to a concert tonight but I hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days and when I texted him about meeting up he didn’t respond and I was a little worried so I came over to check on him.” The words all came out in a weird, breathy, rushed whisper.

“Right,” Jeff said slowly. “Why are you whispering?”

“Because Harry’s asleep.” Penny’s eyes widened hearing her own words. “He fell asleep. After we played Scrabble. And watched a movie. I think he’s still on the mend.”

“You hung out with him?”

Penny nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t plan on staying but he invited me in and it seemed like he wanted company sooo…”

“Yeah, no that’s great,” Jeff said. “I’ve just been checking in on him on my way home each night and I know some others have too but I was just surprised to see you here.” He grinned. “Quite different from how things were a month ago.”

“Mhmm,” was all Penny could get out. “I should probably go.” She darted around Jeff and half walked half jogged down the path, fishing for her keys in her bag while she did so. When she managed to unlock the door, she gave Jeff a casual wave before driving off.

“They just need to fuck,” Jeff said to himself, shaking his head before heading inside.

Harry was jolted awake by the sound of the front door closing, and looked around the room confused as to where his companion had gone. “Penny?” he rasped.

“Nope, just me,” Jeff said, poking his head around the corner. “Don’t mean to disappoint you.”

“You’re the farthest thing from a disappointment, Jeffrey. Penny was just here earlier and I just assumed...”

“I know, I ran into her on the way out.”

Harry frowned as he ran his hand through his messy curls. “She left without saying goodbye.”

Jeff shrugged. “I guess. She said you were asleep and looked like she was in a rush. Maybe she had better things to do than watch the guy who refuses to admit he’s in love with her sleep for two hours.”

“I -”

“Don’t fight it, H. We all see it.”

“There’s nothing to see, Jeffrey.”

Jeff sat down on the edge of the coffee table looking Harry directly in the eye. “H, I’ve known you a long time and because of that, I’d like to think I know you better than most. Something’s been going on with you this year. You’ve been…off. You said Japan was going to reset you but it didn’t seem like it worked. I mean the way you treated Penny those first couple of times.” He exhaled. “That wasn’t you. But the past few weeks, it’s like a switch has been flipped. You’re writing again, you seem happy, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this happened after you’ve gotten to know Penny.”

Harry refused to meet Jeff’s eyes, keeping his gaze on the wall behind him. “I feel like Penny understands me in a way no one else does. It’s like I don’t even have to explain things to her. She just gets it, gets me. But that’s it.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

Jeff pursed his lips. “So if she wanted to go to dinner and then…I don’t know…have sex after you’d say no? Since you all are ‘just friends.’” He made air quotes with his fingers as he said the last two words. “If she said you should call it a date instead of dinner, you wouldn’t want that?”

“Yeah.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that, H.”

Harry turned his head and looked Jeff dead in the eye. “Penny and I are just friends and I don’t want to sleep with her. Or date her.”

Jeff held his gaze. “You’ve always been a shit liar, H.”

***

Penny couldn’t sleep that night, her mind replaying her day with Harry again and again. She knew what she needed to do now, but that didn’t make things any easier.

She couldn’t move forward with the article…that was a given. But Harry…she didn’t know what to do about him. There was no way he could feel the same about her. He just couldn’t. And to put herself out there? Be that vulnerable with him? Now that was a recipe for disaster.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep. But as she counted sheep, all she could think of was how much she wished Harry were lying next to her.

***

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[unholyverse]

waterparks // kerrang! magazine issue #1645

(full article text under cut)

BRING OUT THE BIG GUNS

WATERPARKS MAY VERY WELL HAVE WRITTEN THE POP-PUNK ALBUM OF 2016. IN FACT, AS FAR AS THEY SEE IT, THEY'VE WRITTEN A DEBUT BIGGER THAN ANY GENRE BOLD ENOUGH TO CLAIM IT. THEIR TIME IS NOW….

The first 30 seconds of Made In America, the sixth track on Waterparks' debut record Double Dare, serves as a mission statement. Opening with a riff that any far heavier band would be proud of, before giving way to a verse backed with scattered synths and leading into a pop chorus that could raise the roof off of any club on the planet, the message is clear: expect the unexpected.

They'll be classified as a pop-punk band based on associations and aesthetic, but there's no-one around Waterparks-neither in genre nor age group- making music like they are. Album opener Hawaii (Stay Awake) contains an almost rapped refrain; Take Her To The Moon would sound just as good on an Ibiza beach as it would at Slam Dunk Festival; and Little Violence takes punk to its most antagonistic lengths. Waterparks aren't confined by genre or convention, picking and choosing the best of whatever the hell they like—like children running amok in a toy shop—and combining it perfectly.

"We've tried to make it a point to not just make a 'pop-punk' or a 'rock' album," says frontman Awsten Knight, settling into conversation with Kerrang!. "We played it safer in the past, but this is going to be people's first real impression of us, so we just needed to push this shit to China. We wanted to make sure that people expect to not know what to expect from us. It's 2016-you can do whatever you want."

Be that as it may, to be this daring on a debut album takes confidence. But if a conversation with Awsten is anything to go by, it's a quality that's far from lacking. The Texan native is, like the state from which he came and still resides, both brash and unashamed of his lofty ambitions. In fact, anything other than determination to be the best is frankly off-putting to him.

"I've heard bands during interviews being like, Y'know, if people like it, that's fine, we just want to play music…" he scoffs. "Dude! No! Why would you dedicate your life to something and not care if it does well? That's insane. I don't wanna be like, 'Let me know what you guys think, I hope you like it!' Fuck that. It's, 'Here are some absolute jams, take it and we're gonna keep giving you music and it's gonna be tight as hell.'" And what of his own ambitions for the band? "I want it to be the biggest thing ever," he asserts. "And if that's an attitude that turns people off, and if people don't want good things for us… They can eat dicks."

I here's far more swirling around in Awsten Knight's head than sheer bravado, however. There's a depth to rock's newest future superstar that's mirrored on Double Dare, which boasts substance to back up its all-consuming style. Singing "You drop your guy and take me on / It's everything I wanted / But then what? / Would you get tired of my, time?" on 21 Questions, Awsten shows self-doubt in what might feel like triumph for others. On Powerless, Awsten laments with brutal honesty how he doesn't hear from his friends anymore. Clearly. Waterparks is so much more to Awsten than a chance to have pop choruses sung back at him.

"I don't like talking to people about personal shit," Awsten reveals. "I'll just put it in the songs. There are lyrics that you could look at and be like, 'Oh, he wants to die,' but then the next song could be like, 'Aww, he's in love. This way I don't have to talk about it in real life."

The time leading up to Double Dare gave him lots to not talk about and even now, speaking to K! about it all, Awsten retreats into himself more than seemed possible from such an outwardly charismatic dude.

"I went through a while where I didn't talk to anyone or want to see any of my friends." He pauses. I got out of a four-and-a-half year relationship in that time, too. A lot of weird and sketchy things caused me to be a recluse for a little bit."

Even the usually cast-iron confidence in his band can falter slightly if Awsten thinks about the wrong thing. He worries that the amount of attention they're getting might jinx them. "It's weird when people say, 'Waterparks are going to blow up.'" he admits. "What if we don't? I don't want people to look back at all those articles and see us as just some band that flopped."

There's a duality at play: Awsten, the fiercely driven, self-assured frontman faces off against Awsten, the self-critical, occasional loner. It's a battle that he's keen to see end in a tie.

"I'm always both," he says of his split personality. "If I was either of those personalities full-time, shit just wouldn't get done. If I was a bummer all the time, then our shows wouldn't be fun. I think the balance is there and that's what makes it work."

Awsten, more than anyone, knows who he has to be and what he has to do for his band to be successful. And where those two sides meet is in his work ethic. When Waterparks needed flyers made, he learned Photoshop. When they needed a way to sift through their many, many different ideas before paying for studio time, Awsten set up a studio at home. Merch designs? Promo filming and editing? All Awsten. "I hate being dependent," he stresses. "Nobody's going to work as hard for your band as you will yourself. If you're stuck relying on people, you're going to be fucked."

But with that hard work about to pay off in the biggest way - Double Dare is set to propel his band into the ranks of pop-punk's elite - are Waterparks and Awsten, self-doubt and all, ready for the level of success headed their way?

"Well, we better be!" Awsten exclaims without a second's thought. "Everything that we have right now as far as the album and all the other cool stuff we have going on and the things we've accomplished, those aren't accidents. I quit school to do this full- time, so if we get to that point and I'm like, 'Oh, I'm not ready,' then fuck me, it's my fault.

"I honestly try not to think about any of it too hard, though," he continues more soberly, "because that would mess me up. But we're pretty ready."" And they'd better be.

DOUBLE DARE IS OUT NOW VIA EASY LIFE

TOY STORE-Y

WHAT WOULD WATERPARKS GET UP TO IF THEY GOT LOCKED INSIDE A TOY SHOP OVERNIGHT? LET'S FIND OUT, SHALL WE…

AWSTEN KNIGHT (VOCALS/GUITAR) "Completing the prophecy, as my eyes roll back, my skin turns purple and I crawl backwards to the ceiling!"

OTTO WOOD (DRUMS) "If I managed to get trapped in a toy shop, I would monopolise the Lego market and make it a real pain in the ass for anyone who was looking to construct the biggest Lego house ever (laughs)!"

GEOFF WIGINGTON (GUITAR) "Let's see…If I was to get trapped in a toy shop overnight I would most likely find myself building the biggest Lego house ever. Once that's ready, I'd go and find myself a wife and a dog, so we can all grow old together. The end!"

WORDS: KYAN DE PREITAS // PHOTOS: MICHAEL ANTHONY

#waterparks #awsten knight #geoff wigington #otto wood #i.zip

[ericleo108]

08/19/2022 Click here for Spotify or Apple Music. This is my 18th official release. “Talk to Me” is a romance rap song where I rap like I’m talking to my girl. The lyrics for this song was originally conceived over a J. Cole beat that you can hear on The Chalice Mixtape which you can find on soundcloud. I basically took the old lyrics and fit them over a Retro Beatz beat. This song is more about the story and was inspired by cosmic luve. If I didn’t publish this now I probably Never would have. You probably won’t be able to find this on any album.

The beat is from RetroBeatz.com. The track was professionally recorded, mixed, and mastered by Cracka Lack at Crack House Recording Studio in Lansing Michigan. You can stream or download the track wherever music is sold. Thank you for your support. Be sure to follow because new music is released every first and third Friday of every month.

Lyrics

I guess I just wanted to let you know a little about me This is for her

This a little story of where I been on low  I’ve been taken my time findin in me the soul Turned 35 this year, and life ain’t what it seems I ain’t seen my father since I turned eighteen  I’ve lost 50 pounds I have no debt It’s hard to live on disability For schizophrenia and flex I used to have delusions  That the tv was tuned in  To my brain and zoom’n in  Messages to do shit  Like lady gaga was stalking me  And wanted to do naughty things  So i went to New York  To meet up and go on tour  That was just the start of it Then the President was part of it  Pretty soon a machine was the reason for all of it This went on for years, I moved out to LA Couldn’t stay out of the hospital, back in Michigan to stay got professional help I’ve bettered myself  Looking back, felt heroine  But really just embarrassing  Delusion is gone but the fantasy intact  I wanna use the energy to encourage me to act Be a better person, spread the love Focus on the girls that make the world lite up 

Talk to me, talk to me Girl what you thinkin We could make it known Or just keep it all a secret Tell me what you’re scared of Tell me should I care, just Tell me should I give up Tell me is it real love

Talk to me, talk to me Girl what you thinkin We could make it known Or just keep it all a secret Tell me what you’re scared of Tell me should I care, just Tell me should I give up Tell me is it real love

Are you enamored Enough to take advantage  I See it from your vantage  And how it all would happen Just wanna be upfront from the start  See girls they break hearts, they’re mean, and they fart Get derisive, play dirty, place blame and place fault So why would I even fuck with you from the start  Because your worth it Listen You have purpose  You are not subversive  You deserve this  I love your mannerisms  How you handle decisions  Catching feelings  Is what I hadn’t envisioned  All these other rappers smash hoes, and act tough  I wonder if I’m dedicated and man enough  I’m scared to death, my love will never be enough  You shutter when we touch, or there’s another that you love  Well behaved women rarely ever make history I just wanna touch greatness, and by that I mean your pussy so

Talk to me, talk to me Girl what you thinkin We could make it known Or just keep it all a secret Tell me what you’re scared of Tell me should I care, just Tell me should I give up Tell me is it real love Talk to me, talk to me Girl what you thinkin We could make it known Or just keep it all a secret Tell me what you’re scared of Tell me should I care, just Tell me should I give up Tell me is it real love

Say we start dating  You get complacent  Start showing some affection And stroking my erection  We gonna stay friends? Where’s this gonna lead? You beyond a ten  Please don’t mess this up for me Try’na get in you into bed Or maybe outta your head  How you heard what I said You just wanted me for sex  Imagine that, propinquity  Is what that really means to me  Things aren’t what they seem to be You’ve touched me and I feel your plea But I can’t be chasen you I won’t play the fool If you get close though  You can bet I’ll Make a move Don’t ruin my fantasy  Crush me with reality  Fuck me when your mad at me  Love is what it had to be But honestly, what can you expect  For me to be concerned about your health and your head I don’t want just sex, money, or some good fun Baby I ain’t dumb, I want the love, of a good woman so

Talk to me, talk to me Girl what you thinkin We could make it known Or just keep it all a secret Tell me what you’re scared of Tell me should I care, just Tell me should I give up Tell me is it real love Talk to me, talk to me Girl what you thinkin We could make it known Or just keep it all a secret Tell me what you’re scared of Tell me should I care, just Tell me should I give up Tell me is it real love

Is it? Should I care? What do you want? What do you want? Just tell me

[ahoonterisahoonter]

Short story part 2 -- TW Depictions of suicide

One night, Jaime is standing on the deck late at night, their heaviest coat wrapped tight around them. Erato, shivering desperately, comes to stand next to them. They look over at him but say nothing. They had grown to a point of mutual understanding, and although they weren’t exactly friends, a bond was forming. This had turned into a nightly ritual, staring out into the cosmos. Staring up long enough, Jaime would always start to feel vertigo, as if gravity would suddenly reverse and dump them into an endless sea of stars. In a way, Lab Zeta felt the same, a yawning abyss waiting to consume them.

“What have you been listening to today?” They asked Erato.

 He smiled and showed her the iPod he always carried. The album cover was red with a blue border, and the names printed on it. It was either T/N/A/F by Simple Forms, or the other way around. Jaime didn’t know a lot of the indie bands Erato listened to, but so far they liked his taste in music. They would need to add that to their playlist when they could.

“We’re almost there, you know? I overheard some of the crew talking, we should be close to land tomorrow or the day after. As soon as we’re close, they’ll probably fly us immediately to the Lab. How you feeling ‘bout that?”

“I’m leavin’ on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if we’re ever gonna be back. No part of this feels right. With as much as they’ve told us, there are still so many unknowns. I don’t even know if Amy is alive, let alone how to find her and get her out of the there. You know, I haven’t asked you who you’re going in there to save.”

“I’ve dreamt that a time like this would come fulfil my life. Who could of known the one who’d bring me here would be my lovely wife?”

“You’re married? Dang, I keep underestimating you.”

He shrugs. He’s clearly used to being thought of as slow or weird or dumb, so he’s built up a thick skin. Still, they know what it feels like to have people impose their own ideas onto you, and they refuse to participate. They make a mental note to alter how they think about Erato.

“Song boy, Bluey, great to see you two out here,” Sam calls out to them.

Jaime rolls their eyes. They were really hoping that Eric’s names wouldn’t stick, but it looks like they’re winning. Sam isn’t half as quiet or contemplative as Erato, but she’s still good company to have around. Her litany of references serves to distract Jaime from the despair that grips their legs like quicksand. She helps keep them from drowning.

“You’re not usually up this late, or out in the cold,” Jaime remarks.

Sam shivers. “Yeah, because it sucks out here. I was thinking about doing the Titanic thing, but it is way too cold, even during the day.”

“Then what brings you out here?”

“I can’t sleep. It’s rising.”

There’s no need to ask her what she’s talking about.

“Sometimes,” she continues, “I can hear the voice, even when I’m awake. Every time it’s Luke’s voice, or partially, and it always says the same thing. ‘Join us and fight.’ What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Who am I joining, and what am I fighting? I don’t think we need to wait to get to Zeta to go insane. I think I’m already off to an early start.”

“Goin’ off the rails on a crazy train,” Erato whispers to the night.

Jaime can’t move past something Sam said. “I’m sorry, what does the voice, Luke or not or whatever, say to you in your dreams?”

Sam looks disturbed at Jaime’s sudden interest, but repeats, “’join us and fight’ is all they say, over and over again. Why do you ask, I thought we were all having the same dream?”

Jaime shakes their head. “Apparently not. Other than the fact that we’re hearing different voices, which makes sense, I’m getting a different message. ‘All this could be yours.’”

Sam’s eyes grow wide. “So, these aren’t just terrifying visions, someone is actually trying to communicate with us? Song boy, what do they say to you?”

Without looking at them, Erato quietly recites, “sing it from the heart.”

“Well, that’s fucking ominous,” Eric enters the conversation through chattering teeth. “It’s one thing dealing with whatever nightmare thing is coming after us but knowing that it’s also an early 2000s emo is so much worse.”

With a roll of their eyes, Jaime shoots back, “can I presume that in your dreams the message is ‘go fuck yourself’?”

“I get plenty of that in my waking life.” A shiver passes through Eric that has nothing to do with the cold. His voice becomes serious as he says, “she, it, tells me to ‘embrace the truth’, whatever the fuck that means.”

“Ooh,” Sam shouts in excitement, causing everyone to jump. “What if we all have, like, roles or something? Like, I’m a knight, and Song Boy is a herald, and Jaime is our ki—, uh qu—, monarch.”

“Ah, and where does that leave Eric ‘embrace the truth’ Ramirez?”

“Maybe a scholar, or something, I’m not sure, it’s just a theory.”

“Honey, if you knew me you would know I’m the farthest thing from a scholar.”

Jaime cuts in before their banter can run wild. “Sam, you seem pretty excited about this theory. What do you think it means?”

“Well, it’s just like, there’s something trying to talk to us, right? And it clearly wants us to listen to us, which is why it’s using the voices of our loved ones, but it can’t get it quite right, y’know melting our organs and stuff. So maybe, I’m thinking, like, it’s tryna recruit us for something. What if it’s building an army to try and conquer the world? Ooh, or maybe it’s trapped and needs us to fulfil our roles to bring it back to the mortal plane? Or—”

“I get your point,” Jaime says, with as much patience as they can muster. “You really think this thing is trying to recruit us? And would any of you, well—”

Jaime doesn’t finish their sentence, but everyone understands. It’s something they had each privately considered many times since this journey began. When the time comes, if the time comes, where that invitation is extended to them in real life, would they take it? Should they?

As they silently ponder, Topper and Debra appear on deck. Debra is wrapped in at least three blankets, but Topper has nothing to protect himself from the cold, other than a fierce grimace.

“Good to see I’m not the only insomniac on this ride,” he says in greeting. He walks to the railing, next to Jaime and peers over the edge of the boat. “Sometimes I think I’d rather be thrown in this water to freeze to death, so I don’t have to face the blood sea again.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Eric says, “I’ve wanted to push you overboard since we got on here.”

“I’m not too worried that a twig like you would actually be able to throw me overboard. Guaranteed that’s not affected my sleep one iota.”

“You’re right. Also, I could never throw you over, or I wouldn’t get to look at your fantastic bod anymore.”

Topper laughs, deep and hearty. “It’s nice to be appreciated. Feel free to soak in as much as your eyes can handle.”

Sam, practically bursting with excitement, interjects, “we were just talking about our dreams. The, y’know, obviously, haha, you just brought it up, anyway, what does it say to you?”

Debra scowls, but Topper doesn’t seem bothered. “’Bring them.’ I’m guessing from the way you asked that question that you’re not hearing the same thing.”

She shakes her head enthusiastically. “Debra, what about you?”

Still scowling, she responds, “It says, ‘Just stop fighting.’ Don’t ask me what that means, I have no fucking clue.”

“I bet you’re used to saying that,” Eric quips. Debra shoots him a withering glare, causing him to put up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, I know that wasn’t my best work.”

Topper starts, “what does the voice tell—” before a loud horn echoes over the deck, followed by a flood of lights searing away the darkness. After their eyes adjust to sudden brilliance, the group sees that a large section of the deck has been cleared except a small cargo plane.

“Glad to see most of you are already up,” Agent’s voice booms through speakers scattered around the boat. “Everyone collect your gear; we’ll be leaving within the hour. Report to the plane when you’re ready.”

The phrase ‘collect your gear’ is somewhat facetious, as none of the team had been allowed to bring much more than the clothes on their backs and some small trinkets. Everything else they’d be taking with them is already on the plane. Still, they recognize that Agent is giving them a chance to steel themselves before they fly into the icy darkness. Without talking, the group returns to their quarters and picks up the few possessions they have. Then, again in silence, they return to the plane, where Agent is waiting.

“Good morning, team,” he greets them cheerfully.

“Did we really have to do this at 3 in the fucking morning?” Eric moans.

“As a matter of fact, yes. We’re tracking a storm heading this way, and if we don’t leave soon, we’ll have to wait for it to pass before we can fly in. Every second counts, so we can’t delay.”

“Awesome. Dodging a blizzard to get into murder lab, and the sun isn’t even up yet.”

“You’d better get used to that,” Agent announces. “It’s winter down here, and we’re far enough South that the sun is only visible for about four hours each day. Not that that’ll matter much, as you’ll be entirely underground for the duration of this mission. Now, as soon as Rachel arrives, we’ll get underway.”

As if on cue, Rachel, disheveled and clearly still bleary from interrupted sleep stumbles up the stairs.

“Ah, there she is. Now, it’s a bit of a long flight, so we should depart quickly. Although, if you do have any last questions for me, ask them now, as we won’t get another chance before the mission starts.”

“I just want to double check one last time that this is actually fucking real,” Eric asks.

“Yes, I can assure you this is real. Please, try to take it seriously. Anything else?”

Jaime raises their hand. “Can you level with us here, Agent? If you had to place bets, what are the odds we make it out of there?”

He frowns and considers the question. “At this point, you’re our best, and last, option. I’d give you higher odds than the last teams, but I’d still say less than 10%. If I were a bettin’ man.”

“Thanks for the candor.”

The group falls silent and cast their eyes to the deck or the stars, contemplating the ramifications of what Agent just said. In all likelihood, they are going to board that plane just to fly straight to their deaths, like a fly into the mouth of a ravenous predator. Still, they had come too far, and there wasn’t a chance any of them were going to back out now.

“One last question,” Jaime adds. “Please tell us your real name.”

Agent pauses, as if internally debating the question, then curtly replies, “Francois. Now, let’s get moving. Lab Zeta awaits.”

True to Francois’ word, although the flight takes several hours, there is no ability to asks questions, discussion what’s coming, or even communicate beyond simple hand gestures. The noise in the plane is deafening, and, as protection, they are each wearing noise-dampening earmuffs. This leads to the paradoxical effect of near-perfect silence, despite the violent vibrations reminding them constantly of the freezing air beating against their small craft.

Jaime hates the silence. They always have. As brutal as the world could be to them, and it was plenty brutal, that was no match to the torment they could inflict upon themselves when left to their own devices. For most of their life, this meant surrounding themselves with at least two types of media at all times, just to drown out the oppressive silence. If they were being honest with themselves, and they tried to never be, the worst thing that came during silence was hope. Sometimes, when they disconnected from everything, they began to feel good about themselves, began to think that things would improve for them. Things never did, and that glimmer of hope made the inevitable pain inflicted on them infinitely worse. So, it was better to avoid silence at all costs.

That isn’t an option here, as taking off the earmuffs would lead to splitting headaches and possibly to permanent ear damage. So, there they sit, dreading the things that this oddly calm and chaotic space will invite in, drawing furiously in an attempt to hold those things at bay. It doesn’t work, it never does, and so, as a beautiful and terrifying kaleidoscope of body horror take shapes on the page in front of them, they begin to drift back to drift back through time. A montage of the litany of vile and cruel insults hurled at them floats in a grotesque parade behind their eyelids. As always, like Santa closing out Thanksgiving, comes the slap.

That day, years in the making, with bouts of self-loathing and bursts of strength, support and detraction from those who could guess, was when they finally decided to tell their parents the truth. They had run through every possible reaction, steeled themselves against any rejection or hatred they could receive, or so they thought. With their parents sitting on a fading couch opposite them, they finally spoke the words that had weighted their heart for as long as they could remember. Even as they stumbled over the words, which seemed to clumsily tumble from their mouth, the pain eased, if just a fraction. If they were going to suffer regardless, they would do it living who they truly were. Their parents were silent as they spoke, waiting for them to awkwardly trail off with a “so, yeah,” before responding.

Dad was the first to speak. He was never great with emotions, and even without a thick beard covering half his face, it would be hard to tell what he was thinking or feeling. “Oh sweetie, we love you no matter—”

Before he could finish, Mom cut him off. “Why are you doing this? Have we really been such bad parents that you would debase yourself like this just to spite us?”

Both Jaime and Dad tried to protest, but she silenced them both with a gesture. She had always dominated the house like that. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, or your pathetic lies. This isn’t the daughter I raised. The daughter I raised would never be some debauched, genderless whore. You are a woman, you will date and marry a man, and that is final.”

“I’m not your servant, I’m your child, mom—”

“And that is precisely why you will listen to me. You’re confused, and frankly acting like a dumb bitch. Your father and I want to help you become a well-adjusted adult, but if you insist on trying to act like you’re not a woman, then we have no choice but to step in and put you back on the right path.”

“Honey, I think—” Dad started, but was waved away.

“Apologize, young lady, and I’ll forget you ever did this to us.”

“I didn’t do anything to you,” Jaime spat back. “This is who I am. And if you really think you have so much control over me, then it must be your fault.”

With her lips drawn to a tight line, Mom crossed the room in two strides and slapped Jaime, hard. The hit echoed around the small living room, which had become as quiet as the grave. With as hard as the hit had been, Jaime didn’t feel anything. Anything except the shame that burned their whole body. Shame, and a newfound hatred for this woman who had apparently never loved them, the true them, and had only loved some fictional version of them she’d invented in her mind. Without another word, Jaime sprinted for their room.

Later, they heard Dad and Mom yelling at each other, him defending them and her attacking them. After the fight, Dad came in and gave a truly stirring speech about his support and love. It meant a lot to know that they had him on their side, but it wasn’t enough to erase that slap. They didn’t think anything would be able to erase the pain of that memory. And here they were, nearly half a decade later, still hearing the echoes of it as clear as if they had just been hit. Tears threaten their eyes, but they managed to hold them back. They had a lot of practice holding back tears.

Erato passes them a paper. Through their blurry eyes, it takes them a second to recognize what they’re looking at, but as it finally comes into focus they recognize it as sheet music. The staffs are drawn so neatly that it looks more like it was printed than hand drawn on a shaky airplane. The notes are largely foreign to Jaime, who doesn’t know much about reading music beyond ‘FACE’ and ‘Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge’, but Erato also wrote in the lyrics. The song is familiar to Jaime, if a little rusty in the back of their memory. It’s an old Rise Against song called September’s Children, which they remember having something to do with a string of LGBT suicides, all within a month. They look over at Erato, raising an eyebrow in question. Erato, of course, can’t respond, but mimes flipping the paper over.

When they do, Jaime sees on the back is more of the song, but with the last line circled. It reads, ‘Proud I stand, of who I am, I plan to go on living.’ Looking back at Erato, they catch his sad, but empathetic smile. He clenches his fist and shakes in slightly, as if to say, ‘you’ve got this.’

Jaime can longer hold back the tears.

The final descent is by far the rockiest part of the flights, with lurches of several feet in every direction. This is met with several different reactions: Francois, Topper, and Erato seem stoic and unbothered; Rach and Debra turn white as ghosts; Eric and Sam put their hands and cheer, noiselessly, like they’re on a roller coaster; and Jaime is somewhere between the last two groups. Despite the tumultuous descent, the actual landing is fairly smooth. As the plane powers down and the persistent thrumming ceases an eerie calm settles. It belies the fact that not two hundred feet from where they are sitting is the entrance to a labyrinthine network of tunnels home to at least sixty brutal murder victims, and most likely more. Pulling their earmuffs off let’s the outside noises flood back into the group’s ears. Metal creaks as the engines cool, wind whips around the plane’s exterior, a howl that is surely indicative of the predicted storm’s approach, and the shallow breaths of the people fill the small, cold chamber.

Francois stands. “Ladies and gentlemen, et al.,” he adds, looking at Jaime, “the time has come. I’ll help you unload your equipment, then I’ll see you off. We won’t be able to return until the storm dies down, at least a few hours. After that, we’ll come pick you up as soon as you have the tags of everyone on the list. Until then, I’m afraid you’re on your own. There should be enough here to sustain you for a week, and you can last even longer if you can reach the lab’s stores. However, I recommend you don’t take your time. Find them as soon as you can and call us. Good luck.”

Eric, sitting behind him, flips Francois off, but says nothing. The others are similarly mute. Between the howling winds and cold seeping into the now inert plane, the reality of their situation is beginning to sink in. This is actually happening. It isn’t some fever dream. The moment passes, and everyone gets to their feet, grabs their designated crates, and steps out into the pitch-black snowstorm.

Lights on the vehicle’s exterior do little to break cut the darkness but serve more to create an eerie feeling of descending into a deep ocean. The group quickly traverses the distance between their landing and the lab’s entrance. When they arrive, Francois, Eric, Topper, and Sam peel back the heavy metal door. It’s entirely clear of snow, despite being surrounded by drifts, an intentional design choice by the engineers, who used the door as an additional heat sink for the lab’s computers.

No light emanates from the staircase ahead of them, and the lights behind them don’t reach this far. For a moment, they stare into the abyss, each no doubt imagining some horrors awaiting them at the bottom. The illusion is instantly shattered by Francois, who activates the flashlight mounted to an assault rifle and hands it to Topper. For the first time since any of them met him, Francois shows a genuine emotion: pity.

“Down you go,” he shouts to be heard over the storm. “I’ll close it behind you. It won’t lock, but I recommend you don’t try to make a run for it. There’s nothing for miles in any direction. Hypothermia is not a fun way to go.”

“One madhouse to another, huh?” Topper shouts back, before descending.

The others follow suit, with their cases in tow. Rachel is the final one to enter the doorway, followed by a firm thud as the door swings shut. They freeze at the sound, which seems closer to the knell of funeral bells than to simple door closing. In all likelihood, they were just sealed into their tomb. There’s nothing for it now but to push forward, down the stairs and into the intersection of the three hallways.

“I’m gonna say what we’re all thinking,” Eric breaks the silence. “Why is it so motherfucking cold in here? Isn’t there supposed to be heating or something?”

Topper snorts. “Look around you, numb nuts. The power’s off. That means no heat.”

Jaime feels a tap on their shoulder and spins in terror, only to find a slightly sheepish Erato. He points up the stairs and mutters, “it’s gettin’ hot in here.”

Jaime pauses to consider his words, then turns to the others once it finally clicks. “There’s power somewhere. The computer banks must be running if the door is melted.” Behind them, Erato nods.

“You should be grateful it’s so cold down here,” Rachel speaks up. “If it were warmer then this whole place would reek. Trust me, you don’t want to be trapped in an enclosed space with rotting corpses.”

“Right, I almost forgot about all the dead people,” Debra says wryly. “Thanks for that lovely reminder.”

“Well, if the power is on somewhere, maybe this will work.” Sam throws several of the switches on the wall, to no effect.

Topper points his light to the ceiling. “I don’t think power is the problem.”

They all look up to see the long fluorescent lights shattered.

“Okay, so someone went nuts and smashed all the lights. That’s…cool.” Eric’s voice is thin.

Jaime, now with a gun and lit flashlight of their own points to the floor. “Whoever did it had the presence of mind to sweep up the fallen shards.”

“Were the lights shattered in the videos?” Rachel asks.

Topper shakes his head. “I wasn’t paying attention. I just assumed the power was out, and that’s why it was dark. Shattered lights make way less sense.”

Eric shrugs, regaining some of his confidence. “Whatever. If the demon who lives here likes it dark, that’s his business. We should get moving.”

“Agreed,” Topper nods. “Our first step should be to find a safe room to store our equipment. Then we can start our search.”

“Okay, so are we gonna split up like every stupid group of teenagers in a horror movie, or what?” Sam pipes up.

“We’d cover more ground,” Debra offers.

Topper shakes his head. Without explicitly discussing it, he had seemed to step naturally into the role of leader. Perhaps it was his military background making him somewhat more of an expert in dangerous situations, or maybe it was the confidence he exuded, but they were all looking to him. “While we could definitely search faster, we’d be putting ourselves in way too much danger. No, we’re sticking together. At every point, we have at least two people facing forward, two facing back, and someone facing any intersecting rooms or hallways. Priority number one is to make sure nothing can sneak up on us. Now, everyone arm yourselves and let’s get moving. I know we got an early start today, but I want to search as much as we can today.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Eric mock saluted but complied with the instructions.

It wasn’t long before they found a suitable room to be their repository. They took the first hallway to their right, where the man dubbed ‘forkupine’ had laid face down in a pool of blood, untouched by any of the previous expeditions. Only, when they arrived at the point where he should be, there was just a puddle of frozen blood. After dropping off their equipment, that became mystery number one.

“This is a good sign,” Topper says over the murmurs of the others. “We know that he was still here at the end of the last expedition. That means someone is alive in here, or at least was recently enough to have moved the body after them.”

“Someone, or something,” Sam whispers breathlessly.

“Why would you say?” Debra practically hisses.

“Sorry, it’s just something dramatic I’ve always wanted to say. Plus, we don’t know what drove everyone down here to kill each other. So, there’s definitely a something, even if it wasn’t the one that moved forkupine.”

“Dammit, that was a human being, with an actual name. You can’t keep calling him that,” Debra shot back angrily.

“Look, if he didn’t want a funny nickname, he shouldn’t have died in such a funny way,” Eric steps in to defend Sam.

“Whoever he was, and whoever, or whatever, did this, is all beside the point at the moment. The important thing is that we aren’t alone down here, and we need to find the others ASAP.” Topper sharply eyes the others, daring them to continue the previous conversation. When he sees that they’ve all let it go, he says, “alright, good. Let’s get moving. Debra and I can take rearguard. Jaime and Rachel lead us. The rest of you check our corners.”

“What makes you think either of them have any clue where the fuck they’re going?” Debra protests.

“None of us know where we’re going,” he counters. “We can’t know where the survivors would be hiding, so any of us are as good a choice to lead as any other. As long as we all remember where we’ve been, we can find our way back. Any other complaints.”

Debra grumbles but says nothing. The group enters formation, according to Topper’s directions, and begin to slowly inch down the hallway. Doors are set a regular intervals, and they pause at each so Sam, Eric, and Erato can search them. It’s a quick process, as the rooms are small enough to be fully scanned in a single glance. Still, they take their time to search for anything that might lead them to where the survivors might be. There’s nothing useful. The rooms here, apparently offices, are in nearly pristine condition. Whatever went down here, it didn’t touch this section of the lab. As that fact becomes increasingly obvious, the group slowly grows more comfortable, enough to break the silence.

“I never asked you, Bluey, but what landed you in McCreepy’s?” Eric whispers.

“Oh, you know, I was having trouble sleeping, so I took a sleep aid,” they respond at a similar volume.

“That landed you in the hospital?” Rachel asks, incredulously.

“Well, I may have taken a bit more than the recommended dosage.”

“How many?” Rachel asks, concerned.

“About half a bottle.”

Rachel gasps quietly, while Eric just shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s a rookie mistake. If you were serious, you should have gone for the whole bottle. It takes a few swallows, but you can’t beat results.”

“Is that so? Well, considering you’re still here, I’d say you know fuck all about the right way to do it.”

Eric tsks. “I wasn’t really tryna take myself out. It was a slow spiral, call for help type of thing. If I wanted to go, I could do it first try, easy.”

“You’d think so,” Sam jumps in, a little louder than the others, “but most first suicide attempts fail. The vast majority of suicides come from people with previous attempts. I thought jumping off a bridge was surefire, but apparently the human body really doesn’t want to die. Unlike the human brain, which is a self-destructive little fucker.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Debra asks, horrified.

“What isn’t?” Eric laughs. “None of us would be here if we weren’t at least a little fucked up.”

“You can’t just talk about suicide like that. It’s a serious topic.”

Jaime scoffs. “I’m sorry you grew up in an era when you could say the n-word but not talk about mental health, but we’re from a different time.”

“What you’re doing is not talking about mental health, what you’re doing is making a bunch of sick fucking jokes,” she hisses through her teeth.

“I mean, I do have some pretty sick jokes about fucking, if you want to switch topics,” Eric counters.

Topper clears his throat. “Can we please pay attention? We have no idea what is down here with us, and I’ll be damned if I let it sneak up on us because you can’t stop needling Debra.”

Leaning back to whisper to Eric in an even lower tone, Jaime asks, “was needling Debra one of those fucking jokes you were talking about?”

Eric can’t help but laugh, although he contains it to a short burst.

“Are you seriously trying to bring everything in this place to come attack us?” Debra shoots at him.

“Oh right, the evil entity that literally invited us here certainly wasn’t aware of our presence before I just laughed.”

“To the left, to the left, everything you own on a box to the left?” Erato says out of nowhere.

They all freeze. Trying to puzzle out what he could have meant by that. Sam is the one that puts it together when she looks in the room into which he’s staring.

“This is where we left all our equipment,” she says in confusion. “How did we get back here?”

“That’s not possible,” Topper says to no one in particular. “We haven’t turned. We’ve been going in a straight line the whole time.”

“Maybe the corridor curves?” Rachel asks, hysteria creeping into her voice.

Topper runs his hand along the concrete walls for a few moments before shaking his head. “If they do curve, they definitely don’t curve quickly enough for us to have made a complete circle with how long we’ve been walking. Besides, we would have had to pass the stairs at some point if it actually were a circle.”

“Maybe we could try walking backwards and see where it takes us?” Jaime suggests.

Topper frowns but nods. “That may be our best bet. Keep your eyes peeled for anything familiar.” The statement seems ridiculous considering the endless gray expanse of concrete around them whose only feature is the lack of any distinctive features.

“How is that gonna help?” Rachel’s voice sounds like she’s about to fly into a full panic. Her breathing is rapid and shallow.

“Rachel, are you okay?” Jaime asks in concern to the woman who is now doubled over and hyperventilating.

“What the fuck is happening? What awful place is this?” Tears are streaming down her face.

“It’s just a twisty corridor,” Jaime tries to reassure her. “It’s weird, but it’s nothing to freak out about.”

Rachel drops to her knees. “They’re all dead, and we’re all dead.” Her voice has gone from panicked to eerily calm, like she’d just been drugged.

“What’s going on up there?” Topper asks over his shoulder, still refusing to leave any direction unwatched.

“She’s just struggling with the situation. It’s hard for all of us, just let her—” Jaime stops, a nagging feeling at the back of their skull. They look around at the others and sees little more than worry on their faces. None of them seem to be too bothered by this new development. Why would Rachel be the only one? Come to think of it, why was she the only one that was able to sleep well every night on the ship? And her reaction to their conversation earlier: she’d seemed shocked to learn that Jaime had tried to kill themself. They begin delicately, “Rachel, what color is the sea?”

The phrase seems to break Rachel out of her reverie. She wipes her tears and turns to Jaime. “Red, like blood.”

“Bluey, I don’t see what this has to do—” Eric begins, but Jaime waves at him to be silent. It stings slightly that the gesture is a mannerism they’d picked up from their mom, but there isn’t time for that now.

“And what message does the voice repeat?”

“What?” Rachel asks, confused. That response is enough to convince Jaime, but they need to be sure.

“In the dream, when the thing speaks to us, what does it say?”

Clearly blustering, Rachel responds, “it, uh, it says ‘stay away from here.’” Her voice wavers with uncertainty.

“Oh, fuck me,” Sam groans, entirely too loudly.

“I’m seriously lost back here,” Topper calls forward.

“Rachel has been lying to us,” Jaime says in a flat tone. They aren’t sure if they feel anger, pity, surprise, or nothing. They’ve never been good with understanding their emotions.

“What?” Rachel gasps, clearly somewhere between scared and feigning indignance.

“Sam? Care to explain?”

Eagerly, Sam elaborates. “The voice is inviting us. It’s bringing us here for a purpose. You hesitated when they asked you what it said because you clearly didn’t know that was part of the dream at all. And then, when they asked you again, you tried to come up with something plausible, but it was the exact opposite of our dreams. None of us has been chased away. You’re a lying bitch.”

Finally realizing that her ruse is up, Sam becomes angry. “So, what if I’m not fucking insane, like the rest of you? That should be a good thing, to have one person down here who isn’t a lunatic.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Sam responds. “But, in this case, it’s the opposite of what we want. Each of us was invited here, which means that to some degree or other we’re not going to be in as much danger as those who weren’t. Like you.”

“How did you know about the sea?” Jaime asks. “That was the first question Agent asked each of us, and if you hadn’t answered correctly, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Her damn brother,” Debra spits out. “He was the dreamer, and you thought you were sparing him by taking his place.”

Rachel’s tone changes from angry to pitiable. “You don’t know my brother like I do. He couldn’t be sent here. I had to protect him. When I heard about his dreams, and that someone had come to talk to him, I followed up with Agent. I know the nurses there, so they were able to get me in contact.”

“You weren’t even in a facility?” Eric asks, incredulous.

“Why should that matt—” before she can finish the sentence, Rachel clutches the sides of her head and screams.

“What the fuck is happening back there?” Topper asks, clearly assuming that something in the hallway is causing this sudden breakdown.

“Poor Rachel is reaping what she sowed,” Eric responds.

Jaime drops down next to Rachel and gently rubs her back, trying to comfort her. It works surprisingly well, as Rachel stops screaming and drops her hands from her temples. A split second later, it becomes apparent that it wasn’t Jaime’s comforting touch that brought about the change. Something had become visible to Rachel that was out of sight for the others. She whispers a word in an unknown language, then jumps to her feet and runs into the dark hallway.

“Rachel, stop!” Jaime calls after her.

“Dammit!” Topper shouts at the back. “Eric, take her spot. We need to follow her and stop her but keep to the formation.”

Everyone moves swiftly, and off they go to chase after there teammate. Her steps echo loudly down the concrete tunnel, although each comes with diminished strength. Clearly, without a whole group in formation to slow her down, Rachel is sprinting headlong into unknown territory. Her flashlight, and attached weapon, sit idly at the spot from which she ran, meaning that there is nothing but darkness ahead of her. Too soon for the steps have to become completely inaudible, they stop suddenly. With renewed urgency, Jaime and Eric push the pace, threatening to break apart the formation, much to the chagrin of Topper.

The combined light beams of Jaime and Eric pick out a shape on the floor ahead. As they draw nearer, it comes into detail, although it takes a moment for their brains to combine those disparate details into a cohesive picture.

Rachel is laying flat on her back, blank eyes staring up at the plain ceiling. Each of her forearms are slashed open with three cuts on each arm. Blood is still slowly leaking out of the wounds, but the copious amount beneath her makes it clear that it’s too late. Above her head, written in the blood is the word ‘Intruder.’ Additionally, Rachel’s coat, jacket, and shirt had been ripped open to reveal her bare chest, into which had been etched a complex glyph. From the relative bloodlessness of the wounds, this shape must have been engraved in her flesh posthumously. The horror from the tableau is matched only by the horror of the questions it raises. Who or what did this? And how had it managed to do all of this so quickly? Should she have really been able to bleed out so quickly? They’d only just seen her, no more than a minute before they came across the body.

“Can I be the first to say, fuck everything that is happening here.” Eric can’t help but say.

Silently, Erato points at the glyph in her chest. He clearly can’t find the lyrics for this particular moment, but there is something about the symbol that he desperately needs them all to notice. At his insistence, Jaime stares directly at the wound, which to this point that had been doing their best not to examine. As they stare, light begins to emanate from the cuts, until the horrible wound is a bright constellation, burning itself into their mind. There’s a message there, a message that, try as they might, Jaime can’t uncover. But the longer they stare, the brighter the symbol glows, and more the hallway around them melts away. Soon, they become aware of the fact that they are being pulled into the wound, which has now opened into a gaping hole. Instead of viscera, the peeled back flesh reveals a realm of blindingly brilliant light, although the original glyph shines brighter yet.

Eventually, their vision goes completely white, except for the glyph that still manages to shine brightly even against the shining while light surrounding them. Their mind goes blank, and they shift out of the conscious world.

#short fiction #short story #horror #cosmic horror #funny

[bewitchingivy]

Pick A Card: Words of Comfort & Appreciation

HELLOOO, EVERYBODY <333 Now this is one of my favorite pacs that I made. I wanted to do this since I intuitively felt that some people out there might need to hear these words. It felt like my guides were urging me to write these for you guys. As always, take what resonates and leave what doesn't <3 Take care of yourself always!

methods used in this reading: intuition

☽ MASTERLIST ☾

࿐ DISCLAIMERS:

Tarot or any forms of divination is not set in stone. It's not your only future, but a probable one with the current energy you have right now. If a reading doesn't resonate, simply let it fly away and shift your energy. Because you can change your reality, and you have the undeniable power to do so.

Please keep in mind that my readings are for entertainment, positive, or inspirational purposes only. Please don't take them as a professional or medical advice. Any actions or decisions taken are your responsibility.

The images I use in my blog are not mine unless I say so. The pictures belong to their respectful owners.

Now intuitively choose one (or more if you're called to) of my holy trinity albums by Taylor Swift 🖤

evermore

Hey, there! Thank you for being here <3 First, I know how tired you must be right now. You're not only a hardworker, but you tend to overwork yourself. Let's face it, even though you do all the hard work, it seems like nothing's coming out of it. No matter how many times you try to perfect your work or craft, you can't seem to get the results that you want. But please listen to me first, it's totally ALRIGHT to not get it right or perfect. You're human. And whether we like it or not—being humans make us flawed. But that's what make it beautiful isn't? You may not be perfect, but you're already enough <3

Please take some breaks too. I know you're overworking yourself to the point that you don't get enough sleep or you may even forgot to eat your meals. Stop. I want you to take care of yourself because you deserve it. You know, you've done so well and so much. If you can't see that, then at least try to believe me. Hey, you may see that you haven't done anything at all and that's why you keep pushing yourself; but see here—in your whole life, you have helped people, made them smile and laugh, and you shared some of your love to them too, and not just to other people but to yourself and maybe to some of your animal friends too.

You are one of the reasons why someone is happy right now, why someone is not giving up right now, why someone is living a little better than before right now. Isn't that beautiful? The perfection that you're aiming is nothing compared to that. You don't have to worry. You're doing well, love <3

shufflemancy:

PS: SERIOUSLY, GO GIVE YOURSELF A VACATION OR SOMETHING, YOU LITTLE B- I'm seriously gonna come over your house and bang on your door til it breaks if I find out you've been forgetting yourself again I- (I'M JUST SAYING THAT TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF IS A MAJOR MESSAGE HERE. GET IT?)

Thank you for taking your time to read this and for liking and reblogging my posts! Please take the time as well to research for more information and educate yourselves about climate change. Let's get together and help the earth 🧚🏼‍♀ Sending much light <3

- Ivy

folklore

Heyyyy, lovely people <3 Just wanna let you know that you're just so damn drop-dead gorgeous. No, I'm fucking serious. You. Are. Beautiful. <3 When are you going to see yourself the way that someone loves you? You're like the sun that brighten anyone's day. The world is so lucky to have you around. You literally have no idea how much your existence matters in this world. Really, I thank you for being born and for being here right now.

Stop being so hard on yourself, please. You are a wonderful and beautiful person, inside and out. You're literally an angel here on earth. Stop comparing yourself to other people. So you think they're beautiful and that you'll never be as beautiful as them? So what! That's their own beauty, but you? You're literally the only one who holds that beauty of yours. Start looking at yourself in the mirror without all the hatred, criticism, and negativity. Start smiling right now and see that beauty you have in you. Be gentle to yourself, okay? Before needing other people's love and admiration, you need your admiration and love for yourself first and foremost. Everything around you will fall into place in the right time.

I would kiss you on your forehead right now and wipe those tears away if I could, but I can only hope that these words will reach you. You've been struggling and crying in silence, and you think you're alone, but you're not. Okay? Me and lot of people are here for you, even if we don't know each other. The right people will come to you in the right time, and let me tell you—they'll love you from your head to toe because you're a beautiful soul <3

So for now, give yourself some of that love of yours too. Because you deserve it and you own it. I'm sending some of my love to you too :)

shufflemancy:

Thank you for taking your time to read this and for liking and reblogging my posts! Please take the time as well to research for more information and educate yourselves about climate change. Let's get together and help the earth 🧚🏼‍♀ Sending much light <3

- Ivy

RED

Hey, you. Yeah, the one who's reading this right now—I'm talking about you. You know, what? I'm so proud of you for trying every single day. Whether you tried all you could, or tried little, that's still something to be proud of. We live in a society where everyone forgets about the little efforts that we do, and for those of us who are aware of that, the best we can do is to remind people around us. And yeah, it's a shame sometimes that no one sees that in you too, and that's why we gotta take that step to tell ourselves. But for now, I'll be the one telling you that I'm proud of all the little and big things you have done <3 You're amazing, love. I'm proud of you because after all the things you have gone through—you're still here with us. That alone proves how strong you are. You should be proud of yourself about that too. You've been trying and striving to better yourself everyday, and honestly, who wouldn't be proud of that?! That takes a whole lot of courage, and I really appreciate that about you.

You may not be in a good situation right now, but I'm telling you that better days are coming for you. You just gotta have faith in that, yeah? (Oh, look at that there's 555) I'm so proud of you that you're still holding on and giving up is not in your options. You keep on trying and trying again, and even though there were times that you felt like giving up and that everything is just so hard, you didn't. You stand up right after stumbling down. You got this attitude that screams, “not today, devil.” Yep, and the devil never gets to you, but rather it would fear you. Um, I'm speaking metaphorically. But maybe that can also mean literally, LOL.

I gotta tell you, your past and future self are very thankful to you right now. You're so strong, it's admirable and inspiring. A lot of people will look up to you and it'll inspire them to never give up too. Stay strong and awesome, lovely human, okay? <3

shufflemancy:

Thank you for taking your time to read this and for liking and reblogging my posts! Please take the time as well to research for more information and educate yourselves about climate change. Let's get together and help the earth 🧚🏼‍♀ Sending much light <3

- Ivy

#bewitchingivy #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #divination #intuitive reading #pac #tarot community #tarot #witchblr #witch community #self love #self care #comfort #appreciation

[shigarakis-cumdump]

An Unhealthy Obsession- Shigaraki x reader

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary: Short yandere fic based off the song “An Unhealthy Obsession,” by The Blake Robinson Synth. Orchestra. 

Cw: yandere and stalker tendencies

Word count: 1.9k 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Many people would call Shigarki the creepy type if they saw him on the street. Slouched over, face always buried in his phone with his hoodie covering the rest. He looked like your local creep who hung around popular stores and malls by himself. He would go to one mall in particular, even more so after he realized they had a Game Stop there. He would frequently go in to browse, and while he was checking out one day, he met you behind the counter.

“Will this be all?” you ask in your sweet customer service voice, with your head slightly tilted. Shigaraki froze in place. No one this pretty has ever talked to him before.

“Um, yeah, that’s all.” he says quickly, looking down to the ground while you're bagging his games.

“This one’s my favorite; I’ve been playing non-stop since it came out, have fun with it!” you say as you hand the bag back. And you play games? Could it get any more perfect?!

“Thanks,” he managed before walking out of the store and finding the closest bathroom. He locked the stall door and sat down. With his heartbeat in his cock, he couldn’t stop thinking of how innocent your voice sounded, and how pretty you looked. He decided from then on you were his next obsession.

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Shigaraki visited the store so often he learned your schedule. He would watch others make small talk with you, and it made him want to steal you for himself. His blood boiled when someone else would make you laugh. Soon enough, seeing you at your work wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more about you. So he followed you home one day. He kept his distance, being too scared of appearing creepy to people around him. You lived a few blocks away from him, who knew!This made it very easy for Shigaraki to stake out across the street and just watch you for hours. You always kept your windows open, maybe for the natural light? He appreciated it though; in his eyes, you left your blinds open for him. So he could watch as you dance around your room with your dog, and then relax and watch tv, hugging a pillow as you accidentally fall asleep. You were precious, and he realized all you wanted, all you needed, was someone like him to cuddle up into, to make sure you were safe. After all, there were too many creeps who could hurt you- he was just making sure they didn't get to you.

Shigaraki made it back to his place, but you never left his head. He went from sitting in the bushes, to sitting hunched over his desk, looking up your name on every search engine imaginable. “Bingo!” he says once he finds your socials. He scrolls down your page, seeing your stories about going to conventions earlier in the summer, spending time with your friends and- oh? What’s this? You were hugging a boy in this picture. Shigaraki zoomed in to get a good look at his face. “Why would you want a bastard like him?” he grunted angrily. He clicked on his profile and saw a post of you two eating at “your favorite restaurant” together for his birthday. The post was from the beginning of this year, so maybe you weren’t still with the guy. I mean Shigaraki didn’t see anyone while he was stalking you, which was a good sign.

Over time, his camera roll would fill up with screenshots of you off of your profile, shaky pictures he snapped of you while you were working, etc. He was in the store just when you worked now, because any other time he was following paces behind you to wherever your pretty feet were taking you. Stepping up to the counter with a few games, you began checking him out. His voice low and quiet as he asked, “Do you play games often?”

“Oh sure! Whenever I have free time, really. But lately I’ve been too busy. We should totally play together sometime!” you beam. Play together? He wanted to do a lot more than that .

“C-Cool, then I’ll see you through a screen next time,” Shigaraki scratches his neck awkwardly. You give him that practiced smile you show to all the customers. “Oh, what time do you get out?” he asks, and you give him a confused look. “S-so I know when to hop on! Just in case..” he drifts off, trying to keep cool. You tell him around 8, and he leaves. That’s perfect. Gives him just enough time to run some errands.

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Shigaraki went to the hardware store and got the smallest cameras he would find. He hurried over to your place, and prayed the key was still under the rug where you left it. And it was! He unlocked your door, and your small dog ran up to him, jumping on his leg. “You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you?” he says, leaning down to pet the dog. Don’t get distracted ! He reminded himself. He began by setting a few cameras up in your room, one facing each corner. This gave him a perfect view of your bed, desk, and closet. While he was in there, he picked up a piece of thin red fabric off the ground. He inhaled deeply, to smell a sweet and salty scent. He shoved them into his pockets for later, and finished placing the cameras.

Back out in the living room, your dog was following him around. Shigaraki knelt down and gave him a pat. He read the dog's collar; apparently his name was Shiro. Cute. “You want something, Shiro? You need some food?” he asked, looking around for his dog dish. He found it and filled it up and then sat on the couch. He took your panties out of his pocket, giving them another whiff. The smell shot straight down to his groin, heating him up. He pulled his phone out and went to his album just for you and scrolled through the pictures. He loved you so dearly, and one day you would know just how much he cherished you. He played back the small interactions the two of you had, and all the memories you’d have together in the future. He palmed his hardening cock, head leaning back on the couch.

It was 6:30, he still had a few more hours before you were back. He revealed his dick from his sweatpants, his tip leaking pre. He put your red panties in his hand, and started to jerk himself off- the soft lace brushing against the underside of his dick. His breathing became hitched and sporadic at the thought of you underneath him making the same noises. No, he wasn’t experienced, but you would teach him everything he needed to know!

“Y/N… god you’re so tight..” he groaned. His hips thrusting up into you as you let out lewd noises for him. He grabbed your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“God please- fuck, I’m close, Shiggy!” you whined under him, twitching with your back arched and a tit in his mouth. The thoughts that filled his mind went directly to his cock. Shigaraki humped his hand, wishing it could be you, waiting for when it was you. Maybe you’d even fuck on this couch, who knows. He quickly finished and made sure to leave nothing behind before heading out and staking out behind the bushes again.

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You throw yourself on the couch as always, sitting where he sat just an hour ago. You made yourself some tea as you turned the tv on. It wasn’t too late, meaning Shigaraki could watch you for a bit.

A little later, you make yourself dinner. You take the trash out and leave it by the road. Shigaraki, being the weirdo he is, makes his way across the street, dangerously close to your front window, to snoop through your trash. There had to be something good in there. . He rummaged through your trash to find empty take out containers, some paper, and- chapstick? He wasn’t big on using it himself, but if it was yours, it was automatically going on his lips. He thought of it like an indirect kiss from his one and only. It had a taste of sweet strawberries, probably what you would taste like if he ever had the chance to kiss you. One day, he keeps telling himself. He pulls out his phone to check your room cameras and he sees you starting up your pc. Right! You asked to game with him earlier!  Shigaraki raced back home to load his game, praying he would find you in one of the local servers. There was FlameThrower2050 , TheRadicalDude , SuckItRight , and Shiro’sCloud online. You had to be the last one. He shot you a direct message, asking if you were up for a game, and you said yes. You actually said yes! Of course, you didn’t know it was him. You went into a private lobby and you turned on your headset. “Hey, can you hear me?” you asked innocently. Your pure voice went right through his heart. “Uh yeah, you sound great,” he blurts out. “Oh, Shigaraki?” you remembered his name?! This left him ecstatic. The game starts and you play a few rounds, Shigaraki being in heaven. You ended up beating him. In every. Single. Round. A bit embarrassing for him, but you laughed it off and didn’t make fun of him for it. Oddly, that stuck with him. You were so nice the whole time- he couldn’t wait to talk to you at work tomorrow!

It was getting late, which is why you had to go, which also meant Shigaraki got to watch you on the cameras. He pulled out his phone, switching to the view of your bed. You crawled in with just panties and an oversized shirt on, how cute. You scrolled on your phone for a little, until it dropped on your chest and you fell asleep. Your phone battery is gunna die, silly… Shigaraki thinks to himself. He could always go over and plug it in for you. No! That was too dangerous!! What if you wake up when he’s standing over you? Certainly that’s not a good impression to leave. He argues with himself for a bit before he’s out of the house, running down the street. His feet carry him all the way back to your place. He grabs the key and goes for the door. It was unlocked. You left it unlocked for him? How nice of you! He sneaks in and Shiro is quick to jump on him. Shiro took quite a liking to him. He tiptoed over to your room, looking at your sleeping body through the door crack. He opened the door slightly, going in and looming over you. He pried the phone from out of your hands and plugged it in for you. You would thank him later; tomorrow! When you’d see him next. Shigaraki zoned out, watching you sleep soundly for a good hour, stealing pictures of you while you were snoring, and getting a quick sniff of your hair. He had stayed there a lot longer than intended, the sun starting to rise. He snuck out of your room and locked the door on his way out.

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“Oh, hey!” Shigaraki hears your pleasant voice call out to him from the counter. “Last night was a lot of fun; how about we play again tonight?” you ask him. He immediately says yes, his heart doing flips in his chest. This was the start of something good.

#shigaraki #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere #stalker shigaraki #an unhealthy obsession #no smut #drabble #shigarakithirst

[eremiie]

gone for too long;

❥ in which you’ve been gone way too long for eren’s liking.

❥ 2.8k words | nsfw | modern au

❥ content: phone sex, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, i think that’s it

eren rolled over on his navy sheets. he was tired of switching back and forth between the same three apps, constantly checking for new notifications besides the ones from his group chat that kept blowing his phone up.

he missed his girlfriend. he missed your presence being next to him when he woke up and he missed cuddling into you on early mornings. the only company he had now was the dim light being let in through his sheer curtains.

he went to his camera roll and clicked on his photo album of you, scrolling through numerous times; like when the two of you had went to the movies together, he remembered the aftermath, the two of you getting riled up in a taxi and you forced him to tip the driver extra. he also remembered the plethora of dirty photos you'd send to him when he would ask, of course this wasn't a normal occurrence but definitely when the two of you were feeling it.

he contemplated calling your phone despite knowing you were away for a trip with some of your closest friends but he didn't want to bother you, yet his own issue was getting the best of him, the constant tossing and turning, the constant adjusting his sweats, and the constant aching pain he wanted to relieve so bad.

i mean, your contact was right there. he was scrolling through your messages a variety of text messages and share photos sent back and forth, the last time the two of you texted being the day you left for the trip and he wouldn't stop blowing your phone up with how much he missed you; the days after that he resorted to calling you instead.

maybe he should text you first?

okay, okay, he'll text you first, and if you're not busy then he'll call you; if you can't talk then he'll try to handle his own.

10:34pm

Baby you up?

yeah ofc, i’m on a trip

I miss you☹️

imyt bby, wyd?

No

Like i miss you

bye

eren chuckles at your response, a smile on his face forming at the response time of your texts.

10:37pm

Ok no fr, can we ft, wanna see your pretty face

u sure it’s just my pretty face you wanna see?

Nah

Now answer baby

eren couldn't help but smile to himself as he clicked your contact name, the facetime call ringing one, two, then three times before you picked up, your voice after so long sounding like a melody to his ears.

"hello?" your voice came through the line and from where you were sitting on the couch, pieck's legs sitting comfortably on your lap and the heads of sasha and historia whipping towards you, ymir not caring enough to look up from historia's phone.

"hey baby, how are you?" eren asked, his face not in the camera while his hand sliding left to right on his lower abdomen as he spoke to you.

your eyes flickered to your friends, a sly grin on historia's face at the sound of eren's low voice on the other end of the line.

you and your friends decided that it would be nice to go on a small trip, residing in an air bnb while you all traveled together. it was hard to convince eren to let you go, him saying that "he'll miss you," and "you'll be gone for too long", but when you told him you'd keep in contact with him everyday he reluctantly let you go, of course with a pout. you wouldn't be back for a couple more days as you had a couple more places to sightsee with the girls.

"i'm good, how are you?"

"i'm fine... i just miss you..." eren mumbled, adjusting himself in his position, bringing his hand up to his chest then back down to his stomach, feeling the ripples of his abs from under his palm.

sasha threw her head back and huffed a breath. "i wish connie call me like that!" she turned over to her stomach from on the couch and grabbed her phone, you, pieck and historia chuckling.

"i miss you too, i'll be back soon though."

"but baby soon is not soon enough, i want you here with me." he pouted, his hand smoothing down to his crotch while he stared at you, you looking down at the camera. "i want you beside me, 'm tired of going to sleep by myself."

you pressed the volume down on your phone a couple times. when pieck opened her eyes, her dark irises shifted towards you with a raise of her eyebrow. she could read your mind; her legs sliding off your lap more towards her body, and her eyes closing again. "go on." she smiled.

you shook your head after her trying to hide your mere embarrassment before getting up from the couch with a soft "eren!" to warn her that you were in front of your friends. "i'll be back guys..." you made your way towards the staircase of the rented house while eren continued to talk to you.

"what? i'm so serious babe. it's been so long, i just want to feel you against me." he whined. at some point his hand made its way into his sweatpants, him now palming himself over his black boxers. "where are you?"

you opened the door to the room you share with pieck and sasha, getting on your bed and turning over to face eren, half of his face finally in the camera. you could tell he hadn't woken up too long ago, almost all of his hair falling out of his ponytail, frizzy pieces framing his face and around his head like a halo, although it was kind of hard to see with how dark it was in his room. "well now i'm in the room i'm sleeping in... the owners had two rooms so i took one with pieck since she's pretty quiet, but since there isn't three rooms sasha sleeps here too, she didn't mind making a makeshift bed, plus the owners apologized. ymir forced us to all share a room anyways because she wanted the other room alone with historia."

"yeah? well it sounds like y'all are still having fun anyways since you haven't been calling me."

"eren, we just talked yesterday."

"yeah, because i called you. you didn't call me."

"same thing." you huffed, turning to your back and resting the bottom of the phone on your chest, an angle that made eren laugh. "what are you doing?" you asked him, while your eyes darted around the room to study it since you never really got a chance to, being out and about everyday you've been here.

"thinking about you."

you felt your cheeks heat up, and held back your smile, rolling your eyes instead. "hm, i told you i'm co—"

"thinking about how i want you next to me, so i can feel you against me."

"eren, stop," you moved your face out the camera, of course the butterflies in your stomach decided to start flapping around.

"i'm not kidding baby, i was just going through my photos, that's how much i miss you... and i saw some of the photos you used to send me... how come you don't send me nothing no more?" he taunted you, and you didn't even know his hands were halfway down his pants as he spoke to you so enticingly.

"you know why. how did armin end up seeing my nudes?" you furrowed your eyebrows and turned the phone back to your face with a jokingly angry expression causing eren to burst out laughing.

"i told you i was sorry, it was an accident! historia saw my dick print that one time."

"that's because you sent it to me when she was using my phone, nobody asked you to send those to me while i was out with my friends."

"you're always out with your friends and never with me."

"you're such a baby."

"but i'm your baby, and your baby wants you right now."

you were at lost for words, your voice croaking when you tried to come up with something to say, but eren didn't mind, after a moment of comfortable silence he continued to carry the conversation for you.

"wanna feel that pretty body, i wanna kiss you and hold you," a faint noise was eliciting from the other side of the line, small constant sounds of fabric being ruffled almost— and alongside it, eren's soft panting. "the things i want to do to you, baby... i wanna fuck you so bad right now."

eren's hand was wrapped around himself, stroking up and down in a rhythm that you could hear from where you were thanks to the facetime call you were on. "eren—"

"that's one reason i miss you so much... i been fucking my fist to that pretty face almost everyday..."

you turned over to your side letting the phone rest beside you as you listened to eren through the phone. "yeah?"

"yeah, 'm doing it right now, that's how much i miss that pretty pussy."

somehow you found your own hand trailing down to your underwear, pulling the fabric aside and basking in eren's deep voice and praise. you didn't even realize the soft moan you made until eren's voice came in on the other line.

"you're touching yourself too? touching yourself to me?"

his voice— it was so low and grumbly, just like he had only just woken up, the way he spoke working you up. "mhm," you responded, and when he didn’t continue you took his silence as a way of him telling you to 'proceed', letting your fingers brush over your clit.

"i bet you miss me just as much then... miss the way i bend you over..." eren groaned at his own words, his hand tightening around his cock. his sweatpants and boxer were shoved down around his thighs, only enough so that he would be able to pump himself while laying on his back. "miss the way i fuck you so nice, right?"

"yeah.." you mumbled, you didn't really want to be in the position you were when your friends were sitting just downstairs but you couldn't help it, eren just had a natural charm to him that had you doing whatever he wanted you to.

"fuck, baby, if you were here right now i'd have you screaming like you always do—" you let out a low whimper at the thought, he wasn't lying, he did usually have you screaming and crying during your sexual endeavors, he was just that good once the two of you had learned what each other liked and disliked. "bouncing on my dick like that... you wouldn't even be able to touch yourself like you are right now if i was there..." you clenched at this because once again, he was right, he loved edging you, it's was something about the way you would cry and beg for him to let you come that turned him on so much. "fuck, i miss you."

you let a finger enter into you, and you tried to hold back your moans, your mouth agape at the feelings and you could only imagine it was eren's fingers instead. "i, i miss you too." and the noises, the squelching noises just had to be transferred over the call as well, eren letting out a low chuckle when he heard them.

"you're dirty..." he laughed, thumb slipping over his tip to collect his precum and smooth it down his length. "if you're gonna finger yourself show me,"

you squeezed your legs around you and turned onto your back. "eren..."

"let me see."

he moved his face into the camera, head now against his headboard and him still pumping himself while he watched you adjust his view so that the camera was flipped. at first, it was quite shaky while you pulled off your own sweatpants and underwear, putting them off to the side and then making sure the camera wasn't too shaky for eren. "yeah, right there, now put them back inside, put on a show for me, ______."

he was doing something to you, and it wasn't fair. you slipped your fingers back inside of yourself as he asked and let out a drawled out moan, eren's mouth dropping open much like yours earlier, head tilting back against the headboard as he lifted his hips up to meet his hand. "fuck— you wish that was me fucking you instead?"

you let out another whimper, your eyebrows furrowing and your eyes closing at his words; you weren't even sure if the camera was positioned properly anymore but eren wasn't complaining so you could only assume so. "uh huh,"

"look, baby." you opened your eyes again and looked at the phone. the camera was no longer on eren's face, it was now on his dick, his hand wrapped tightly around it moving up and down slowly. "can you see it?" and you could, albeit the dimness of the room, there was just enough light to see his movements. "you want this inside you?"

you nodded your head only to realize he wouldn't be able to hear you and instead let out a small "yeah", adding another finger into yourself and biting your lip to keep from moaning out while watching eren get himself off at you doing the same, you completely dismissed the words 'eren jaeger💍 took a facetime photo.' when they popped up on your screen, you were to amped up, but you knew you'd be complaining later.

"god, you're so beautiful, i can't— 'mma come." he whined, hips once again jutting into his hand. he was getting sweaty, feeling how close he was, his skin shiny with a thin sheen of perspiration, hair tie touching his neck as his ponytail was almost completely loose. his eyebrows were knit together and his complexion was flushed, with the phone in front of him to give you a good view while he stared down at it to watch you. "i want you to come first, make yourself come first for me."

your eyes fluttered, and you used your thumb to rub your clit while you let your fingers glide in and out of you, the wet noises making eren jerk off faster, a choked noise leaving his throat as he tried to hold back. "c'mon baby, just act like that's me, that's me fucking you so well," and he didn't even have to go on, your orgasm washing over you at eren's words and the stimulation, your fingers pulling out of you and your knees coming together while your face twisted in pure pleasure, the sound of eren unfolding on the other line as well.

"______!" he moaned, letting his cum spill all over his hand, and oh, what a sight. "fuck... did you like that?"

you flipped the camera back, placing it on the bed and using your one hand that was holding the phone to pull both your underwear and sweatpants back on. "i guess," you murmured once you had your bottoms on again. "i'll be right back."

"yeah, me too."

both you and eren left to clean yourself up and wash your hands, you coming back to eren being back first. "so when are you coming back again?" he asks, now his face once again fully in the camera laying on his stomach, clutching his pillow.

you held back a small laugh at his boyish grin when he looked at you, clear content in his eyes, the light from the phone illuminating his features. "two more days, i'll see you soon, eren."

"that's too long. can we do this again if i start missing you again?"

"no, this was a one time thing, i'm hanging out with my friends!" eren pouted at you and squeezed his pillow a little more then leaning forward and kissing the phone making you grimace at him and start laughing. "you're so weird."

"shut up and go hang out with your friends."

you and eren finally hung up the phone after a mantra of 'i love you' from both ends, you finally heading back downstairs.

"well that took forever." historia said, her eyebrows raised at you when you strut back in the living room.

"yeah cause she was probably phone fucking her boyfriend." ymir joked, but it caught you off guard because, she wasn't wrong.

"i wasn't!" you retorted quicker than you meant to, historia and sasha laughing.

"i took a nap while you were up there... that’s how long you took! we have to get ready, we're leaving to go out to eat at four pm." pieck yawned, stretching out her arms and legs and moving them from where she stretched them into your previous spot.

"okay, well then i'm gonna go back upstairs to get ready." you replied, turning back around to head back upstairs.

"don't waste anymore of our time being on the phone with jaeger boy." ymir scoffed as she watched you go up the stairs, historia hitting her shoulder from beside her.

"i won't!" you smiled to yourself, as you made your trek back up the stair, of course you wouldn't take any longer than you needed to getting ready, but you definitely  wouldn't waste anytime getting back to eren once you made it back home.

#eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren yeager smut #eren aot #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 06 —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

‘‘ I swear I am going to have someone beat your ass Park Jimin!’’

‘‘ It’s not my fucking fault! I broke up with her but you lead her to the apartment  knowing she’ll follow!’‘

‘‘ Damn it Jimin im going to kick your ass!’‘

Your eyes pop open just in time to see Jungkook on-top of Jimin hitting him repeatedly on the face while Jimin manages to push him off of him and begin his fist fight against him. He straddles Jungkook to the floor and punches are thrown left and right. Now the sudden headache of seeing the two brothers fight has began in your head and you cannot stand hearing the groaning and yelling between them. Bringing your hand up to signal them to stop, you realize they don’t even know you��ve awakened.

 Jungkook on the other hand is not having it so he throws Jimin off of him harshly making Jimin groan. The way he grabs Jimin’s collar with venom fast strength finally gives you the courage to yell out to them.

‘‘ Stop! Damn it, you two are like literal fucking teenagers. Act your age!”

The both of them turn their heads toward you slowly. Jungkook drops his fist, which was going to connect with Jimin’s face. You take a good look at them. Freshly bruised from each-other. Great.

‘‘ You think fighting is going to solve this problem huh? Get over here now.” You say, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Jungkook gives Jimin a death glare before rushing to your side and feeling your forehead. You slap his hand away and pull him down by his shirt only for him to recieve a harsh slap to the forehead.

‘‘ Shit!” He stumbles back and rubs his forehead. He shoots you a glare, wanting to yell at you but doesn’t.  You motion for Jimin to come to you too. He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

‘‘ I don’t think it’s necessary for you to do that..” He says, as if your death glare towards him isn’t enough to tell him you aren’t joking whatsoever.

He gets the memo when you disregard his comments before hanging his head low and bending down a little to your height. One slap against the forehead and two across the wrists.

‘‘ That’s for you fighting He was only looking out for me. The last two were for having a psychotic girlfriend who almost killed me. Look at my wrist!’‘

You hold them out to see two I.V’s, one for blood transfusion and the other a regular for nutrients on your right wrist. Both of them bandaged up which does need to be changed because of the old blood.

‘‘ I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would be this upset.’‘ Jimin says, hanging his head low. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him out of annoyance.

‘‘ Whatever. I already called my lawyer for your case. Since Isabel tried to attempt murder to you, you will win this case for sure.’‘ He proudly leans against the wall hoping to atleast crack a smile from you.

You don’t smile though. The last thing you need is another scandal. If this were to make the news and blogs right now then it could be a bad thing. You’ve just started your modeling career again and right now would be the worst time to have something like that. 

Jimin leans on the wall with his hands in his pockets, still avoiding locking eyes with you which is something he usually does. Something tells you that he’s hiding something. Something that you just can’t put your finger on.

‘‘ The police will come shortly for witness statements and your statement. Then they’ll call for a court date as soon as possible.’‘ Jimin’s voice low, illuminating with a hint of sadness.

Out of curiosity you want to say something more. To ask him whats going on and why he’s acting rather like this. It’s really not like him. He’s hiding something for sure and you just cannot put your finger on it. You just agree and pull out your phone. A missed call from Ryan. You try texting her and she almost always responds immediately. This time she doesn’t. What’s really going on?

You don’t know but Ryan took it upon herself to pay Isabel a visit. Usually visitors aren’t allowed for people in holding but with a little sweet talk of hers she got to get atleast 10 minutes to talk. That’s all she needs. When it comes to you, her bestfriend, she never messes around. Hearing the news from Jungkook yesterday she almost went luncatic. Throwing things at him, calling his brother every disrespectful name in the book. Oh she hates him now for sure.

Jungkook had to stop her from going over to the hospital to beat his ass into a bloody pulp for causing you pain and getting together with that crazy girl just to break up with her. Ryan was heated. 

But now she can take this heat and serve some to Isabel right now. She walks with confidence into the room. Nothing and nobody can stop her and if they even try, she’ll chew them up and spit them out. Catching a glimpise of Isabel sitting at the table with her hands cuffed and security next to her, Ryan shoots her a devious glare.

‘‘ What brings you here? I expected my boyfr-’‘

A harsh slam from her hands hit the table as she bends a little to her seated level, ‘‘ He’ not your fucking boyfriend. You were lucky I wasn’t there to beat your fucking ass.”

The guard tenses up at the sounds and sudden movements. Ryan notices, and decides to take her seat to calm down before she’s the one sitting behind the jail bars too. 

‘‘ Ryan.. I thought we were friends?’‘ She frowns, pouting her lips while fake wiping tears away. 

Ryan scoffs,shaking her head ever so slowly with a devilish grin on her face. “ We aren’t. Don’t let me catch you un-attended without your manager or body guard.. Isabel.’’

Isabel laughs one of her evil laughs, throwing her head back then coming back up, “ Oh how cute. Is this a threat from little ol’ you? Me and Jimin were doing just fine before your bestfriend had decided to enter his life again. I’m not the only bad guy here. She should know boundaries for taken men. Ex’s aren’t supposed to be firendly and lovey dovey. Spending nights and going everywhere with each other. Especially when one’s a famous idol with another idol girlfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“ Maybe you should take that up with your hoe of a boyfriend. He’s the one who can’t leave her alone.” She yells, inches away from Isabel’s face. The two stare at each other long and hard. Isabel is no match for Ryan though.

The guard clears his throat to break the two’s glares. The tension is thick in the air.

“ If you ever touch yn again, I’ll make sure you’re the one in the hospital this time around.”

‘‘ You’ll all see. I’ll win this court case. Trust me… there’s things you do not know.” 

Ryan rolls her eyes, strutting her way out the room with the sound of her heels clicking right behind her. Consider the message recieved. 

It’s been one week after the situation. In which in between those days you were dismissed from the hospital and have been in at Jimin’s house ever since. You didn’t want to be here. You want to be at home with your cat, Clara. Jungkook’s been going over to feed and play with her. Jimin kept pleading for you not to return home just yet because it could be a danger to you. It makes sense. You never know what Isabel has up her sleeve. 

So you’ve been sitting here doing the same old thing everyday. Eat, watch movies and netflix tv shows,  sleep, and repeat.

Jimin would come in and out of his home studio to check in on you. He still has to work on producing and singing his songs. He’d bring the food and your medicine he prepared per usual,  kiss your forehead, and go right back out to producing his highly anticipated album.

It all seems fake to you. Something is off. Something is not being told to you. You can feel it in your gut but can’t put a finger on it.

‘‘ This is so cliche.’‘ You murmur to yourself, switching the flat-screen T.V off.

And as if on cue Jimin comes inside your- well his room with a glass of water and prescribed pain killers for you. The slight smile on his face makes you want to smile but you don’t.

‘‘ Smile for ocne yn. Do you not like staying here?’‘ He says, sitting next to you on the side of the bed and places the glass in your hands.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, taking the two pills out of his palm. “ No.. but be honest with me Jimin okay?”

His face turns a quick shade of pink then pale as if you had said the wrong choice of words at the wrong time. As if he had seen a ghost at this very moment. That’s not a good sign at all.

‘‘ Are you.. hiding something from me?’‘

The atmosphere is thick and silence fills the room. You don’t say anything and he doesn’t either. Your eyes meet his and for once they don’t pull away first. 

Jimin doesn’t know how to break it to you though. It’s now or never.

‘‘ She will never leave me.”

You bite your lip hard, “ What do you mean?”

“ That she said that she’d do everything to ruin our relationship if we continue to persue one. She’d spready rumors about you to Dispatch. Make a scene whenver you’re near me. Anything she can do, she will do it.”

You don’t know how to take this all in. You knew Isabel was possesive but not this possesive. The thought of her doing things on purpose for you to make everyone hate you makes you want to cry. To just bawl your eyes out right here right now. You can’t.. you won’t do it. 

You won’t give in because thats what she wants. To make you cry. To ruin your reputation and work. Jimin came back into your life and of course you don’t know what to do or how to deal with it. But this is what you wanted right? You’ve been longing for you and him to get a second chance. It’s you. You’re the one who’s been putting things off and not letting things go with the flow. Maybe he came back to you because he realized how wrong he was for cheating on you. For leaving you behind. For not seeing things for truly how it is. 

You knew Isabel was bad luck from the beginning. Now is the time to try and take back what was originally yours. That will hurt her more than ever. 

“ She needs to have a reality check. Not everything revolves around her.”

‘‘ I agree. Putting her behind bars might give her a reality check. It should serve her right for harming people.” Jimin sighs. 

The silence is thick. You both don’t know what to say and it’s sure as hell awkward more than ever right now. Until that silence breaks. 

‘‘ I feel like you aren’t being your true self to me. If we are getting things out now.” 

His sudden comment makes you lift your head up from playing with the comforter. “ What do you mean?’’

‘‘ You.. don’t want to take actions on what you feel, say, or want to do with or about me. It’s killing me inside.”

He’s right. You do try to push your feelings aside no matter what the cause is. It’s just you trying to not set yourself up for hearbreak again. You do want him. You do want everything to do with him. Considering the things that happened in the past, it’s no doubt theres a fence guarding your heart from intruders. 

You exhale out heavily, “ Im just.. scared.’’

‘‘ Of? “

‘‘ Being hurt again.”

Dead silence again. This time he’s the one trying to come up with words to redirect your view of him. Yes, he broke your heart in the worst way possible. He wants you to see he’s changed. 

Jimin bites his lip, voice shaky when he begins talking again. ‘‘ How can I show you that i’m not the same anymore. Im not I promise you. I want you to see I have changed. I know it’s my fault. I destroyed you but let me fix it.”

It’s all come down to this. You’ve wanted this and now is the chance to get it. Now is the chance to have what was once yours. But the feeling of doubt had taken its course on you at the worst time.

‘‘ Jimin.. how do I know that for sure?’‘ You say, unintentionally fluttering your eyes at him. To you it’s to prevent from letting tears fall. 

Jimin see’s it as that specific thing you used to do when you wanted him. When you craved him and would drop hints. To be completely honest, you do crave him. You do want him. Make-up sex was something you two used to do often. It was your toxic way of saying im sorry. 

Somehow you want to put that toxic thing into action right now. As fucked up as it is, that’s how you two know you’re sorry towards each other. Actions speak louder than words. 

He closes his eyes for a quick second before clenching his jaw to contain himself. Your weak spot.

‘‘ Stop doing that. Unless you want to start something you don’t want to finish.” 

You smile just a little, hoping he’d get the memo. “ What if I do want to start and finish it..”

As if a car alarm went off, Jimin’s eyes pop back open with a suprised look. That’s the last thing he’d thought he’d be hearing from you. “ Are you sure about that? I mean we don’t have t-”

You lean in closer to where you guys are inches apart, his lips softly rubbing against yours. “ I’m all for it.”

Within seconds, Jimin’s shirt is removed off of you only revealing your blue panties which have became a little soaked with your wetness. He takes in the scent of you before his mouth connects with your thighs, slightly sucking to leave bruises on you.

‘‘ Jimin.. don’t tease me.”  You sigh, laying fully down to spread your legs even more. He hums against your skin making you catch chills up and down your spine.

‘‘ That’s my specialty baby. You know that.” He trails a kiss with each word all the way down to your core where he dips a finger inside. You tense up attempting to close your legs. He doesn’t allow it, spreading them open harshly again. 

‘’ Jimin-’‘ You barely utter before he begins to move his fingers in and out of you slowly. You let out a whine to try and make him go faster but it doesn’t work.

He comes up to your mouth and plants a wet, sloppy kiss. “ No whining. You’re gonna get what you want. Just relax baby.”

Is all he tells you before he goes back down to your core to tend to your desires.

The first lick between your legs is ever so gentle. Too gentle for you right now considering that you want release badly and Jimin knew exactly that. He opens his mouth and swirls his tongue up and down your slit. A groan leaves his mouth once he gets a taste of you which sends a vibration to your sensitive bud.

Each time his tongue laps against you your body jerked and shook but that only makes his tongue go faster. Sending you into a moaning and groaning mess as you tug on his hair.

“Mmh you even taste the same like always.” He moans with a smirk.

“Jimin please-” you cry out, locking your fingers into his hair when a finger is inserted into your dripping wet hole.

‘‘ No whining babygirl.’‘ His voice gentle as ever when he removes the finger inside of you making you pout a little. But that pout soon turned into your eyes becoming wide when he starts to take off his shirt, then grey sweatpants, then his underwear where his thick cock springs up.

Your eyes can’t leave his body. God it’s been a while. He looks pretty damn good. You wan’t to take all of his length in your mouth right now. To hear him praise you about how good your mouth feels against him. God you want it right now. 

He gives it a few strokes before walking over to you. Just before hovering over you, he gives you a passionate kiss while lifting up your legs and positioning them to his liking. Missionary.

The tip of him pokes at the entrance of you, teasing in and out. Soon enough he enters you slowly making both of you moan together.

You still wrap and fit around his member smug as ever, and he could not believe it. The feeling of familiarity of being inside you sends him into a moaning mess with each stroke. You can’t contain your moans and screams. He feels way too good. 

Jimin begins to deep-stroke you by pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You scream his name out in pleasure as your nails scratch up his toned back. Wet sounds fill the room with him picking up his pace. You take a glimpse of him only to admire his figure right now. Forehead forming sweat beads while he groans and moans biting his plump pink lips.

Your breathing becomes faster when that familiar feeling soon starts to take over. You turn your head to the side and let out a string of moans. Jimin isn’t having that though. His hand grabs your face gently and makes you make eye contact with him. Your legs start shaking as your head tilts back moans getting more faster. You finally let out one last one in sync with him, his hot sperm shoots inside of you.

Jimin pulls out, breathing heavily and collapses ontop of you. You let out a small grunt with the sudden extra body upon you, then giggle at him when he lays his head lays against your chest. This is what you wanted. He’s true. He’s sorry. 

‘’ I love you.”

That word surprises you. You weren’t prepared for it. Somehow though, you enjoy the fact that he’s said it to you. Love. Jimin’s love. Your love. 

‘’ I love you much more Jimin.’’ 

#one last time #park jimin #ex bf jimin #exbf!jimin #ex boyfriend jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin oneshot #jimin scenario #jimin x reader #jimin angst #jimin sad #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin imagine #BTS fanfic #BTS smut #BTS fluff #BTS angst #bts oneshot #jungkook smut #Jungkook fanfic #Jungkook scenario #Jungkook reaction #Jungkook oneshot #idol! jimin #idol!jimin #idol jimin #idol!jimin au

[nugnthopkns]

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#i don't love this but here it is!!! #one day i'll like the stories i write #kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #sour

[wheeier]

no taking back

summary: it was only fun and games. but steve had other plans.

warnings: modern au, tooth-rotting fluff i guess, little but of swearing

+ olivia rodrigo’s sour album (stream besties), the movie tangled at the end because it just radiates as a comfort movie

yes a modern au !!! i just saw this on tiktok (the sour part, but the rest was my idea!) and thought it was so cute so it gave me an idea to make it as a fic, enjoy !!!

steve harrington x fem!reader

olivia rodrigo’s new album just released and you were thrilled to listen to it and stream it the whole day.

when you finally got to listen to it, you asked your friends—robin, nancy, and the party, if they listened to it and which ones were their favorites.

robin told you that her top three were hope ur ok, jealousy, jealousy, and brutal.

nancy said she really loved favorite crime.

max said hers was also brutal.

el told you that she played good 4 u and traitor on repeat that hopper had to go into her room to turn it down.

when mike comes over to the cabin he can assure that el does indeed play them on repeat and get pissy about it (but he secretly loves the album, but he wouldn’t let her or anyone know that).

and lastly lucas and dustin are fans of deja vu and 1 step forward 3 steps back. max even told you that they would sing the bridge of deja vu on the top of their lungs.

you slightly laughed at the memory of them telling you about it.

however, there’s one more person that you haven’t talked to about it yet.

steve.

your smile faltered and faded when he came across in your mind.

your feelings for him had deepened over the time and listening to the sour album made it feel like you two had broken up, which in fact, is not true because you were never together in the first place.

suddenly, an idea popped in your head. instead of being sad about steve, you thought about texting him, although it’s almost 1AM, you knew he’d still be up.

Sailor Man

You: hey

You: u up?

Sailor Man: duh

Sailor Man: this has been our nightly routine u always bother me when i’m about to go to sleep

You: fuck off

You: don’t pretend that you’re not binge watching outer banks until 4am

Sailor Man: i’m not?!?

You: yeah right

You: anyways

You: can u do me a favor

Sailor Man: will i get free pizza afterwards

You: no

Sailor Man: k

You: what the fuck

You: fine

Sailor Man: hehe

Sailor Man: what’s the favor ;)

You: dont get me started with that winky face i swear ure so dead when i see you at the wheeler’s house tomorrow

You: have you listened to olivia rodrigo’s new album

Sailor Man: ohh the bitter album?

You: ITS SOUR DUMBASS

Sailor Man: I DONT KNOW?!?

You: I CANT DO THIS HJAGSK

Sailor Man: shut up

Sailor Man: i’ve heard some of the songs but i haven’t fully listened to them

Sailor Man: why

You: can you like

You: ask me to be ur girlfriend then break up with me right after so i can experience and actually feel the whole sour album

Sailor Man: what

You: just do it !!

Sailor Man: you’re so funny (y/n/n)

Sailor Man: okay

Sailor Man: will you be my girlfriend?

You: yes !!!

You: ...

You: hello

You: dont tell me u fell asleep

Sailor Man: i’m not doing the last part you might as well forget about it

You: wjat

Sailor Man: :D

You: wtf

You: okay steve cut it out i’m not doing this anymore u’re not funny

Sailor Man: nope

Sailor Man: go to sleep we’re dating now that’s how this works

Sailor Man: okay i dont know if you’re still reading this now and i am terrified to say this to you in person like TERRIFIED. might piss my pants if i did. so (y/n/n), my favorite dumbass, my favorite person to talk to at night even if it interrupts my binge watching marathon, you make me so happy to the point that even when i sleep you’re still in my dreams. i like you. i have like the biggest fattest crush on you. and thank you for doing that sour album thing or whatever, because of that i get to finally ask you out

you rolled on your back after you read the message, facing the ceiling as your mind processed what just happened. was he playing with you? was he actually serious about asking you out?

Incoming video call...

Sailor Man

you took a deep breath before tapping the green button and placing it back down on the bed.

“hey,” you can tell that he was tired based on his voice. “can you show your face, please? i miss you.”

ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you hesitantly lifted the phone and shifted your position to lay on your side. “hey.”

“hey yourself.” steve grins. that stupid grin that makes your stomach turn, that grin you always want to see everyday.

“what’s..up?” you avoided looking at him and started to admire your surroundings and the posters placed on your wall. this was the only time you were glad you weren’t with him in person.

“i just wanted to see if you’re okay.” of course he will ask that. he's steve. he cares about other more than himself.

“i am, thanks.” you showed a smile that doesn't reach your ears and steve knew something was bothering you. “hey, look. i'm sorry about my confession- if it made you uncomfortable i'm sorry-”

“no,” you cut him off, looking back at his face on the screen. “i’m fine, really. you don't have to apologize. i was just, surprised.”

there was silence between the two of you for a few seconds, before you spoke again. “did you mean it?” you voice was only above whisper but steve managed to hear them. “of course,” he answered almost too quick, without any hesitation. “i've been trying to find the perfect opportunity and had been asking god for signs because i can't make a move myself-”

“asking god?” you chuckled and steve smiled hearing them, glad that he somehow lightened the mood. “well, more like begging.” he continues and you giggled.

once your laughter died you both fell into silence again. you still couldn’t believe that out of a fun joke, it would turn into a whole another situation. “so, um.. just so you know, i’m not mad, or upset, or anything. i really was just surprised. it felt like a dream because i didn’t know that you like me back and all i did was just supposed to be a fun joke but—”

“hold on, back?”

“what?”

“like you back. you said i like you back.” steve sat up on his bed and fixed his hair as his eyes widened. “i did...” you said slowly, not catching up.

“does that mean you..”

then it hit you. “oh, right. yeah. i- i like you..too.” you waited for his reaction and once you saw him smile you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“i knew it. and well, i guess that confirms it. we’re dating now. no taking back.” he smirks then laughs when your rolled your eyes. “don’t flatter yourself, harrington. i did not say shit.” you pointed your index finger on the screen, barely containing your giggles.

“based on your beautiful smile i think you don’t need to say it. i like you, and you like me. we’re dating.” steve gives you a teasing smile. you tried keeping your serious face but it won’t last longer so you finally smiled again. “alright, fine. no taking backs. we’re dating.” you said then laughed as he whisper-yelled ‘yes!’ while fist pumping the air.

he soon joined your laughter and you stayed like that until your jaw was pretty much in pain because of your smiles. when it was all quiet again, you both just admired each other’s presence through the screens of your phones. “i wish i was there with you.” he mumbles. “yeah, me too.” you hugged your cold pillow beside you, closing your eyes for a moment and imagining it as steve.

“are your parents home?”

you snorted at his random question. “i’m actually alone right now, they’re out because dad got promoted at his work so he and mom and i think a few friends went out to celebrate. they should be home by an hour or two. why?”

“nothing.” was all he said before hanging up. you were left confused but then he’s your best friend after all, so you knew right then and there that he’ll do something stupid. after you turned your phone off you suddenly felt watching a movie so you went to the kitchen to make some popcorn.

when it was finished and had been put in a bowl, that’s when you heard your doorbell rang—in a pattern which you recognize, and only one person does that.

you let out a quiet laugh when you realized who it was and set the bowl on the counter before opening the door.

“hi!” steve greeted you with a smile. “uh, hi?” you laughed nervously and stepped aside for him to go in. “i smell popcorn, are we having a movie night?” he says as he steps inside and shrugged off his jacket. “actually yeah, i’m planning on watching—”

“tangled.” he finishes off, you subconsciously smiled upon hearing your favorite movie. “how’d you know?”

steve snatches a few popcorns from the bowl as you both arrived in the kitchen. “(y/n), you have watched that movie 7 times this week and always gush to me about it.”

“well, you’re the only one that is around my age that i can talk to with that movie. robin and nancy aren’t that into it.” you replied, grabbing the bowl and making your way back to your bedroom, steve following your heels. “and you think i’m the best option to talk to about that?” he asks, plopping down on your bed and resting his back on the headboard.

“you’re not complaining.” you shrugged as you grabbed your laptop and sat beside steve.

“yeah, probably because i like you.” it came out of his mouth casually. you froze in place and felt your cheeks heat up, finally nodding your head slowly, “..probably.” as you typed in the movie in your laptop you felt steve scoot closer, making your breath hitch.

you were both in a comfortable silence while watching the movie, except for a few jokes and comments that steve makes and him explaining how similar he was to flynn rider.

“you know, since i’m eugene, you could be rapunzel.” he suddenly says. you eyes were still on the screen but your eyebrows furrowed. “why? i’m nothing like her.”

finally looking at steve, you almost screamed how he was already looking at you. “oh, you are so rapunzel. you may not have the longest hair in the world, but you are pretty much similar.” he replies, smiling and not taking his eyes off of you.

you paused the movie and shifted your body towards him, intrigued by his explaination. “how so?”

“well, first off,” steve starts, resting his hands on the soft mattress. “you’re both sweet, you’re both a huge ray of sunshine, have gorgeous eyes and smile, and eugene is head over heels over you — and since he doesn’t exist in real life, i’d like to be the substitute.” he finished with a confident smile.

after about three seconds, you burst out of laughter. you laughed. as much as he loves the sound of your laugh, he can’t help but pout. “(y/n), i’m trying to be sweet here!”

“i’m sorry!- it’s just- i can’t help but laugh at your flirting.” you managed to say between your laughs. you know he’s kidding but he looked at you like he was offended.

your laughter died down and held steve’s face. “it’s cute, sorry.” you mumble with a little laugh. when he finally smiled you turned to your laptop and continued the movie.

steve gazes at you for a few more seconds before watching the movie with you again. “thank you.” you whisper, glancing at him.

“you’re very much welcome, my rapunzel.” he says smiling before he slides a bit down on the bed so his head could reach your shoulder and rests it there.

you giggled as you heard him whisper,

“thank you, olivia rodrigo.”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #fluff #imagines #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fic #cute fic #i hope you enjoyed help #fluff fic #steve harrington x reader imagine #sour #sour olivia rodrigo #tangled

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

fearless - a close reading

this is louis speaking from the heart, getting so honest it hurts. good thing these lyrics are not directed at me bc wow i would be brittle. it’s louis the strong leader shining through, the wise older brother who gently offers advice when someone he cares about is going in the wrong direction. yea ig i did that sorry 

i care about this one a lot, and genuinely it’s just another fucking banger, so here we go.

walls, track 8

*playground noises*

Cash in your weekend treasures  For a suit and tie, a second wife

(another inconsistency with louis’s album booklet: there it says “cashing” - imp “cash in” makes the most sense, since otherwise there wouldn’t be a sentence)

“weekend treasures” - earns money over the weekend? has fun? good experiences? or is it sarcastic and is “you” just escaping for the sake of it

“cash in”: exchange your fun life for the one in a suit with a wife - living a double life

“suit and tie”: trope of the businessman with the family living a lie (- she)

superficial - looks, image of someone who has their shit together

Now I’m not saying that you could’ve done better Just remember that I, I’ve seen that fire alight

i’m saying you can be better though. i’m an old friend, i know you, and i can see now that your fire has been extinguished

Tell me, do you, tell me, do you still remember feeling young? Tell me the truth, tell me, do you still remember feeling young

conversation; louis is pressing the matter gently, repeating his question with added “tell me the truth” bc “you” is lying, to louis and to themselves

“you” can live a lie all they want but louis sees through it and won’t take them lying to him too. louis wants to get the truth out of them in order to help them

always “young” - old friends, lifelong experiences

And strong enough to get it wrong in front of all these people?

“you” is not being strong atm, though they used to be

“enough” - implies that the challenges and expectations are high and it takes a lot of strength to handle them

“you” is afraid to fail, and though they used to be resilient enough to get back up when it did happen, they lost that will to fight

“all these people” - who are they? an audience, watching? people judging them? “these” also implies they’re still there, and also that they’re close to/ (perhaps) watching louis - otherwise he would’ve used “those”

general “they” on walls, always with the eerie connotation of people judging, exercising influence

“wonder what they’d say if they could see us now” - wmi

“don’t know why they put all of this on us when we’re so young” - wmi

“when they said a love like this would never last” - too young

“and they’ll say, ‘i told you so’” - only the brave

Just for tonight, look inside and spark that memory of you Strong enough to get it wrong in front of all these people

stop ignoring yourself, for once

this person has thoroughly lost themselves: they need to spark the memory first, since that “you” is buried so deep down

“spark” - “fire alight”: keeping up the metaphor of this person’s personality and life force as fire, burning bright

Fearless, fearless Fearless, fearless

remember when you were fearless? 

come on, babe, let’s be strong, proud, happy

Now if happiness is always measured By the life you design, that car on the drive

a life by design: fake

material possessions won’t bring you happiness, although “you” seems to be chasing happiness in that direction - got priorities wrong

louis’s own mentality about happiness shining through: it’s all about staying true to yourself, that’s when you’re truly happy

Then you should feel better than ever But you know as well as I, it’s all lies

“we’re in the same boat” - louis knows about this side of life: trying to chase happiness through wealth + living a lie

the life you have as a celebrity is not real: the riches, the attention, the stories; but “you” has lost sight of that, lost themselves in it - started living the lie without staying grounded in their real self, like they used to

implication that a celebrity always leads a double life, no matter what, and the way to stay sane is to keep that split in check, keep those lives separate

Tell me, do you, tell me, do you still remember feeling young?

SYNTHESIS

In Louis’s own track by track, he stays very close to the lyrics (for once) when explaining what the song is about. Additionally, our Peter Pan says that it’s about “encouraging youth and a little bit of recklessness.” *act my age starts playing*

This definitely reminds me of Louis’s relationship with a certain someone, but I’ll leave that in the middle. (There’s so many interpretations that I won’t interfere with your own findings, or my own future findings for that matter. I’d honestly love to hear whatever you think about this song!!)

In any case, Fearless is interesting in how it tells a story about someone else, someone Louis is speaking to and knows well, while it reveals a lot about Louis too. This “you” that has lost their way, lost their spark, has gone down a path that Louis could have gone down too, and maybe he almost did, or even tried out for a bit. Louis is full of patience and understanding, because he knows how hard it can be. He also knows, and says, that it’s necessary to keep re-evaluating yourself and what you’re doing in order to not get lost. He knows how easy it is to lose yourself and lose sight of what really makes you happy. It’s what he’s been singing about throughout the entire album.

Here, his friend, who he’s talking to as if he’s an older brother, almost, seems to have given up the fight without meaning to. What that fight is, in specifics, is something we’ll never know, of course, but Louis is still very revealing. Money, a second wife? If there’s one thing celebrities have said is how easy it is to lose yourself once you’re in the limelight. The attention, the money, the whirlwind of press surrounding you, a manufactured image to keep fans and labels/... as happy as possible... it sounds like hell to try to stay sane. If you have a network of people around you who genuinely care about your wellbeing, you might succeed in keeping your feet on the ground, but not everyone is that lucky. “They” might not have your best interests at heart, which is something Louis seems to have a lot of experience with. 

Being a celebrity and staying sane as a someone in the public eye involves this image that’s all lies, but Louis seems to be saying that there’s no way around it. He’s definitely been vocal about how the industry is full of shitty experiences, Copy of a Copy of a Copy as a loud example of that, but he might be saying that the public image, the front that the fans and outsiders believe in, is necessary to be able to maintain some sanity, privacy, happiness. 

What “you” has been doing, though, is leaning into that life, that image, that focuses only on material wealth, looks, having the picture-perfect job and relationship, and has lost of who they are along the way. And Louis, their friend since a long time, is asking them to calm the fuck down and use their brain for just one second to see if they can even remember who they used to be. (Honestly, if someone would ask me that? If I could spark the memory of me? I would burst into tears and sob until I was dehydrated. Seriously wtf.) 

So, I definitely think there is truth in what Louis said in his track by track, but it digs a little deeper than just asking his friend to take life less seriously. As usual.

I hope the person who this song was directed to got the message and perhaps also made the decision to spend some more time with his old friend Tommo, bc he’s on the right side of things here. (As I think he usually is.) And he’s got their back.

#fearless #lyric analysis #walls analysis #i enjoyed this one very much <3 #such a good song with such great lyrics #also keep in mind that i'm purposefully only hinting at who this might be about bc really i have no idea #it's just a feeling #and it fits for me and that's how i like to roll yk #my brain my reality #anyways let me know what you think!!!

[clementinesjourney]

Two weeks (ii)

AN : You are all so kind and amazing! Thank you for the feedback and thank you for demanding a second part! haha <3 I really appreciate yall!

Pairing: ex?fiancé!Seb x Reader

Summary: You Seb and Chris are shooting a movie, which is oddly the same to what went down between you and Seb 2 years ago. The producer asked you to write the official soundtrack for it... the script reminded you of a song you wrote two years ago, that you never released... Will anything change?

Song for this part: Peer pressure by James Bay and Julia Michaels

Part 1

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

After that press conference twitter blew up as well as every other platform. Seb's and your fans were literally teaming up. Team-get-back-together and team-no-forgiveness. You never reacted to any of them as you felt it was nice of them to care, but it was really not anybody's space except yours and his. And you still weren't sure if you could forgive and move on. On one hand he had hurt you greatly, on the other you were still sure he was the one. At some point Chris started to nag both of you to get you to talk. He saw both of you, he knew your feelings, he wanted his friends to be happy which funny enough was only beside eachother. You were too proud to see and to take the first step, Seb was afraid of rejection.

In the midst of it all an Online magazine wanted a deep interview with Seb. You didn't know of it until Chris sent you the link saying :

-I told you you two need to talk. Idiots.

Then you decided to watch the interview. Seb was sitting in your once shared living room. He was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes.

*in the videochat with the interviewer*

Int. : So Sebastian, i'm really glad that you agreed to this interview. Since parts of your private life shook the internet, blown up Twitter nearly everybody in the industry is trying to figure out what will your next step be, But first we are really interested in the timeline of what got you two to this point.. Would you tell us about that?

Seb: I can only tell my point of view really. We were filming the first Captain America film, when Chris brought this -stepped-out-of-heaven- girl. I really thought she did. She was the prettiest woman i ever saw. They were friends since childhood, and he managed to get her a side part in the movie, as she was just starting out her career. I remember begging to Chris for her number. He said i'd need to get it myself. - he chuckled at the memory - I feel like it was yesterday when i stood outside her room, anxious like a high-schooler asking his crush to prom, whos way out of his league. Then all my nervousness flew out the window when she opened that door with a 1000 watt smile. She agreed to a coffee date. From that day forward i tried everything to be near her, to hear her voice, to see her smile reach her eyes. I knew that day that i wouldn't want to be with anybody else ever, so like two weeks into the relationship i bought a ring, and waited for the perfect opportunity. It was just like Jim and Pam from the office.. I knew she's the one the day she agreed to the first date. We went to Greece, and i proposed. We were the happiest. Especially me when the woman of my life said yes.. Then she got other movies to film, videos to shoot, albums to record, i had the avenger movies and a few side parts. We were happy together but life had a way of keeping us at a distance. I wasn't able to go with her to any conferences, premieres, galas, neither could she with me. With the avengers, more fame came, that meant more and more people around me. Somewhere along the way i lost myself. She was still next to me, she was quiet about all my faults, she tried to ignore my phone blewing up with models messaging me. But there was one who was really presistent. I don't know why, but i asked her to come with me to Cannes, i never planned on doing anything but well.. I had to fuck up. I had to bear the consequences of my actions. So when i got home i found the engagement ring, along with a picture of me and said model on the red carpet in Cannes. The tabloids were full of us, saying she was the one, when she really wasnt. There were dried tears on the picture, with a note : -The one you said not to worry about- I broke down then and there. I considered quitting, running after her, begging, But i wasn't able to reach her. It was too late. Of course i reached for alcohol, which made me take even worse choices. Lines of models along my side.

Int. : And did you have anyone else along the way, until now?

Seb: No i didn't, as i said, i know i fucked up badly, but she still is the only one.

Int. : So then what is the next step?

Seb: I don't know yet, at least not how to start. As for the internet blowing up with us, thank you all for your concern, it is heartwarming to see how many people care about her, or even me, how many people would go protect her heart, and how many people are waiting for us to just realize what we want. It is still very much private and we'd like to keep it that way, but it is still heartwarming.

Int. : So let's say she is watching this interview, is there anything you'd like to tell her?

Seb: I'd just want her to know that i know my mistake, and that i'd never forgive myself, even if she ever do, but i love her with all my heart, and i would give everything away just to have her next to me in this big empty house we built together.

You stopped the video. You were crying but you didn't know if it was happy tears or sad. You went to your wardrobe, and took out the box from the very back containing all your pictures together. The last one is of you showing your ring, with him hugging you from behind looking at you with so much love and adoration. You clutch the photo to your heart.

You were working on a song with a fellow musician, and it was just about perfect, you asked if you two could shoot a video for it, maybe in greece, or the UK, or anywhere really. Just running around in a field in the sunset in slowmo.. then at night in the city, searching for your other half or something. He agreed. The plan was in motion. You were friends so you could tell him that this was the way you planned on letting Seb know that you're willing to start again slowly.

You took a big breath, exhaled slowly, then hitting send.

*on Seb's phone*

Doll: Wanna be in the new video?

Seb: Tell me the time and place..

Then soon enough you all were out in a field of flowers between mountains with the sunset, you had let Chris tag along to watch, you were smiling, running in your sundress, twirling around in the sunlight, Seb was not far behind, chasing you, he picked you up and twirled around with you. Not letting go when he put you down. Bodies flushed just as the chorus started as you were looking into eachothers eyes with smiles.

"Put your hands on my body just like you think you know me Want your heart beating on me, don't leave me hot and lonely I don't usually give in to peer pressure But I'll give in to yours"

With that he took his pointer finger under your chin, and kissed you softly for the first time in years. When he let you go you pushed your foreheads together. Nothing existed in that moment just you two, finally in eachothers arms again. As it should be. You didn't hear Chris and the rest of the crew cheer and holler in the back.

After you finished shooting, you retired to your room, and there was a knock on your door. You opened it with a big smile knowing full well who will be on the other side.

Seb gave you his 1000 watt smile which finally reached his eyes, and you couldn't help but smile back just as happy.

-Do you wanna have coffee?

-I would love nothing more. - you said.

He held out his hand for you to take, and you gladly did. Chris shaking his head near with a smile, running after you two

-WAIT FOR ME YOU MORONS.

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

Half a year later you are sitting next to Anthony with Seb on his other side on a press conference because you joined the new season of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, as a potential love interest for Bucky, but as a new widow as well. Of course the questions regarding the series are soon die out.

-Miss (Y/L/N), is that sparkly thing on your finger what we think it is?

You look over to Seb, he is smiling like a little kid on Christmas Eve, so you motion him that he can tell. All heads turn to him.

-She said yes !! - he said happily. You all smiled. Anthony laughed in the middle

-Again? - laughs rang in the conference room.

-For good this time.. - you said, looking into Seb's eyes.

#sebastian stan #sebastian x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader

[sunflovverharry]

Sweet Time

a/n: soo, I took the liberty of changing the pov in the song to be from harry’s perspective instead of the oc’s, but i’m quite happy with how it turned out. i recommend you listen to the song this fic is inspired by while reading as it might give some more depth to what’s going on inside harry’s head than what i already give throughout the story. Thank you for reading and please reblog if you enjoy it xx

This fic is a part of @harrystylescherry playlist fic challenge which i’m super excited to be part of! Remember to read the rest of the entries and show your support <3

Pairing: Harry x OC Delilah Warnings: Angst, fluff, language Word count: 4.7k

It seems bad luck runs through all of Harry’s relationships. The three he’s had that lasted long enough to be considered serious all ended because of the same reason - Harry’s fame. Mixing their jealousy of the women media connected him to; and anger that he couldn’t be with them every time something important happened made him exhausted. His girlfriend was supposed to support him in every way possible, just as he would support them and know that if he could spend more time with her, obviously he wouldn’t be flying to god knows where for who knows how long. It clearly wasn’t enough for his exes to know that if he could, he would, but his life isn’t run only by himself. He has managers and a record label who tells him what to do and when.

**

Lucie had been ringing his phone for the last hour without any answer and it surely must have pissed her off because the texts she sent after weren’t pleasing to say the least. Harry had been in the studio for a while and his phone had been silenced so he could solely focus while creativity was rolling through him. He had told his girlfriend that he would be unavailable for most of the week with writing and recording as much as possible, but he’d call or text whenever he was free. Thinking she had understood, he didn’t care to text her right before entering the studio to tell her she wouldn’t be able to get a hold of him for a while, but after seeing the texts he thought to himself he should’ve texted her.

“Why the fuck aren’t you answering??” “Harry you better answer your fucking phone this instance or we’re over!” “Seriously Harry what is more important than me, your girlfriend!!” “Are you with another woman???? ANSWER ME YOU FUCKING DICK”

No, it wasn’t the first time Harry had been subject to her angry texts, probably drunk off her ass and having no one else to be mad at. He knew he shouldn’t put up with the way she’s treating him, but when they’re together she acts completely different. She never raises her voice at him or asks who women he’s seen with are. They always enjoy their time together, cuddling on the sofa while watching a movie or going to her parents’ for a Sunday roast. Though she’d never be seen cleaning or cooking, telling Harry that it wasn’t her job to do so when he could have maids and chefs.

Even his mum had told him she wasn’t what he needed in a girlfriend. A snobby, gold digger who has jealousy and anger issues ultimately wasn’t someone he had time for. Those texts were what made him decide that he had to end the relationship now, before it’s too late.

A week later he made it home from Los Angeles and he wasn’t surprised to see Lucie running towards him after hearing the car doors slam outside. She always acted as if nothing happened while he was gone. He couldn’t believe he had wasted almost a year on this girl and before she could get any closer to him he told her they were done. Yes, it sucked to tell someone they weren’t wanted any longer, but it was the right decision in the end and his mum would surely be happy he got rid of her.

**

A year after breaking up with Lucie, his third girlfriend (who honestly might have been a little too into his fame and money than he realized at the time), he met Delilah. To be honest, Harry had told himself that he wanted to stay single and focus on himself and his upcoming album, but Delilah threw his plans out the window after only a month of dating - or what he called “just friends getting to know each other”. Delilah on the other hand called them dates and could only hope it would expand into something greater than that.

**

Harry had been sat in the restaurant they were meeting at for half an hour, hoping Delilah wouldn’t be much longer. He was grateful she had texted him to let him know she’d be running later than expected as the traffic was crazy and she had to stay at work an hour longer than anticipated. If she hadn’t let him know, he’s sure he would have cried from the embarrassment.

Not knowing how much longer she’d be, he called his mum. Her voice had always calmed him down and that’s exactly what he needed at this very moment - sitting alone in a restaurant at a table for two in a secluded corner waiting for what might be the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on.

“Hello my sweetness. How are you?” They got into talking about Harry’s surprise trip home for his sister's birthday in a couple of months. Anne and Harry were planning a surprise birthday party for her and it wasn’t something he’d ever want to miss. After minutes of talking about the surprise and anything else popping up into the conversation, Anne asked what he was doing. It wasn’t that he had hidden the fact that he had a new friend on purpose, but he supposes that he wanted to keep this one private - even from his mum who knows everything going on in his life.

“Just having dinner with a friend who’s running a tad late which is why I called you.” He wasn’t sure he was able to keep the excitement out of his answer. Though Delilah was only a friend and he certainly wasn’t looking for another relationship that would end up breaking, he already liked her more than he probably should.

“Oh, I see. A friend friend perhaps?” Anne snickered, knowing that if she pried long enough, he’d have no choice but to spill. This time it wouldn’t happen though as he saw Delilah walking towards the back of the restaurant and the table where he was seated waiting patiently for her.

“Sorry, mum, my guest has arrived. I’ll call another day, love you.” Harry didn’t hear the ‘love you’ his mum said back to him before pulling his phone from his ear and hanging up. Pocketing his phone while standing up, he smiled at Delilah who looked stressed but beautiful in her very classy outfit paired with some killer heels and Harry didn’t even want to think about how much they hurt her feet.

When they both finally sat down, the chatter never died down and the wine never stopped pouring.

**

It took a while before she earned Harry’s trust, but it was proof that he did trust her when he invited her over to his house for the first time after five months of dating. She had proved to Harry that she took his privacy seriously and she, too, wanted to keep whatever it was they had going on between only the two of them. Almost as if it was something sacred, and really it was.

Harry had been over for movie nights and dinners at Delilah’s plenty of times, even going as far as staying over a handful of times. She gave him complete reigns of what they did and never pressured him into going out in public and there wasn’t a suspicion (that Harry knew of at least) of why he didn’t want to go any further than light groping and making out before pulling away. When he wanted to talk to her, she would be there for him.

**

Delilah had her legs thrown over Harry’s thighs and his hands were lightly massaging her feet tired from a long day at work. They had ordered pizza from what Harry called ‘the best pizza place he’s ever been to’ and when Delilah took her first bite she couldn’t help but moan at the explosion of taste in her mouth. It really was the best pizza. This was only her second time hanging out at Harry’s house, only wanting to come when he invited her as to not invite herself into his most private space.

Harry had shot her a message earlier in the day asking her if she’d like to come over after work seeing as it was a Friday and therefore the night didn’t have to end as early as a weeknight. Of course, he didn’t tell her that, but he wanted to have the option open for her to stay the night if he felt comfortable enough by the end of the night to ask her.

Delilah could Harry’s head was spinning in all directions while mindlessly continuing to rub her feet, up to her legs. She could positively say none of her exes had ever given her a foot massage, making Harry look even better in her books (though he didn’t need it, he was already better than any of her expectations and she could only hope she reached his expectations).

“What’s wrong, sweets?” She had taken up the nickname for him after hearing his mum call him something similar, but not wanting to steal her nickname for him. Harry smiled every time she called him that, loving the feeling he got in his stomach from how it sounds coming off of her tongue.

“Just thinking and going in circles round my head.” It didn’t give away anything other than he was stressing or worried about something Delilah had no idea what it could be. Sitting up, she planted a kiss to his cheek before smashing their cheeks together in a tight hug - all she wanted was to be there for him if he wanted to talk, or just sit in silence together. Hopefully he’d have the guts to throw her out if he wanted to be alone.

Harry giggled when she didn’t let up her strong hold around his neck, not nearly enough to choke him, but enough to hold him in place. He turned his head to look at her quickly before melting their lips together in what can only be described as an expressive and intense kiss. Delilah didn’t know what he was trying to express, but it must be something good with the way he’s pulling her onto his lap, their lips never separating more than a second.

“Would you want to stay the night?” He had gone through every pro and con in his head, but Delilah showing him she was there for him without trying to pull anything out of him made up his mind. There was no doubt he wanted her to stay at his place for the night and he’d drive a hard bargain for her to even think about saying no.

There was no need for a bargain though, Delilah nodding her head quickly before pulling him in for another kiss, or two, or three. She wasn’t worried about not having pajamas here or her toothbrush or her trusty face cleanser. None of it mattered even slightly, when all she could think about was how much trust Harry was putting in her. For a minute there she was the happiest she’s ever been and as Harry’s nerves subsided he was the happiest he’s ever been.

The couple went for a short drive to Delilah’s apartment to pick up some essentials, as well as the supermarket to buy ingredients for breakfast in the morning (and new bathroom essentials to keep in his bathroom for times when she would stay the night). By the time they got back to Harry’s, they were ready to hop into bed - a bed she had yet to try out, but was sure would exceed all her expectations.

Harry was tucked into his bed on the side he regularly slept on when Delilah walked out of his ensuite, ready to lay down right next to him. Knowing from the past times they’ve shared her bed that he’s a big cuddler, she was excited to see how much more comfortable and cuddly he’d be in his own bed.

**

Though Harry felt safe and trusted Delilah enough to share his house with her and have her sleep over, something was still holding him back from asking the big question that they both probably knew should have come earlier. Even his mum was unsure why he hadn’t asked her yet or let her meet the woman he’s spending all his time with.

By the seventh month of dating, she was starting to question herself. If she wasn’t doing anything wrong and he still trusted her, why would he not have asked her to be his girlfriend already? She thought it was pretty clear to everyone that knew about their ‘relationship’ that she wouldn’t say no.

**

“So, Delilah, how’s it going with Harry?” She was out for drinks with her best girlfriends and the only ones she had told about Harry - except her parents, of course. It was an unwritten rule to not talk about boy trouble or anything of the sort on their nights out, but it was clear Delilah’s head wasn’t in it. Something had to be up with her and the only thing her friends could think of, was Harry.

“We’re good. He’s feeling safe and comfortable with me. We’re going to his mum’s next weekend to relax before he leaves.” Her voice was definite and if her friends didn’t know her they wouldn’t think anything was wrong with their relationship. Delilah spends a lot of time with him and the past month she’s slept over most nights, even on the days she’s had work the next. Harry had cleared out more space for her in his bathroom vanity and closet - which he knew was way larger than what he really needed, but had still managed to fill with no problem.

Delilah sipped on her drink as she went back into her head, thinking about how tonight was just like any other day. Harry will pick her up exactly ten minutes after she calls to tell him the night is over, he’ll hold her thigh on the drive back to his home while she talks his head off about nothing. When they arrive home, they’ll do exactly what they always do when she stays the night - wash their faces together, brush their teeth and while Delilah finds her outfit the next day Harry goes to get a water bottle he always keeps in the fridge that they will share throughout the night. It’s become routine and the domesticity around it makes Delilah’s heart flutter.

“Have you had the talk about going official? Becoming boyfriend and girlfriend? I thought maybe he’d asked by now with how you’ve been. I mean, you basically live there by now.” Lyla tried to pull out the thoughts swirling around Delilah’s head without being too invasive if she really didn’t want to talk about it.

“I don’t know honestly, I think we’re doing great and I’m so happy with him. I don’t want to force him if he isn’t ready, but it’s been seven months and he hasn’t said anything about making it official no matter how much it feels like it already is. I can’t imagine he doesn’t feel the same. It’s pretty obvious what we’re doing is exactly how it’s like being in a serious relationship.” She braced herself and let it all out - all her thoughts about not making it official yet or how domestic their relationship has become over the past couple months. She would be indescribably sad if Harry wasn’t to actually feel like she thinks he does and that might be the reason why she hasn’t had the guts to be the one to initiate the conversation.

**

The next couple of weeks went by smoothly for the pair. With Harry being gone for most of it, she had a lot of time for herself to go through her feelings and get the chance to figure things out. She tried to hide her - what felt like crushed - feelings from Harry, not wanting him to pry for her to open up and ruin everything. She agreed with herself that if they had to do things slower than normal because Harry needed the time to get there, then that would be okay as long as he actually would get there one day. There was also no way she could leave the man behind just because he’s been hurt in the past and is now - overly - precautious. The very least she could do to save what they had was to try and help him realize that she wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t want anything but the best for him, and she wanted to be the best.

Delilah came home from work to Harry cooking a storm in the kitchen late one afternoon after he came back to London. It wasn’t that she didn’t know he could cook that surprised her, no, he was always making them dinner - with or without Delilah’s help. What did surprise her though, was the romantic set up in the living room that she had never seen before.

**

Harry was in deep concentration standing over the stovetop where he had vegetables boiling, along with the chicken he’s grilling. It’s getting close to done when he heard his front door open and he didn’t bother turning around, knowing it could only be one person - Delilah. The girl he’d been obsessed with for the past eight months. But, fuck, he was terrified of getting infatuated with someone again, only having been burnt by it in the end previously.

There was something so raw and new with this one, though, such a breath of fresh air for him. It was like he was supposed to go through those bad relationships to end up here - with the perfect fit for him. She never took it to heart when he couldn’t be there for some things, having to leave the country for weeks at a time, but encouraged him to go, have fun, text me when you land. The first time she told him so, he was speechless and couldn’t move his feet for seconds before he got back to earth.

The first time he slept over at her place was pivotal for him and him realizing where this could go, and that was over six months ago. He had told himself to take it slow, enjoy the moment and not do anything because he felt it was the right time. The right time was usually never right in the end because he still wasn’t ready. If he were to lead a relationship with Delilah it would have to be on his terms, mostly because he didn’t want this one to go wrong. This potential relationship with the girl of his dreams was something he needed to get right. If that meant waiting a little longer to make it official, move in together or start a family - now he’s really thinking far into the future - then he would do so because he knew in the end it would save them both from heartbreak.

Ever since him and Delilah got closer his mum saw a change in him, though the insecurities and unease he had from former relationships were still haunting him. The first time he voluntarily spoke to his mum about her, she told him to follow his heart and only time could tell if she was the one for him. The last time he spoke about her, Anne told him he had to do something, because even though they act as if they’re together, she doesn’t have the security blanket of love that she needs to stay with him. That really set fire to his plans - knowing he had to do something about it before it was too late.

Therefore he ended up deciding on making her dinner and putting in effort to show his romantic side that she hasn’t seen a lot of was the way to go. He wanted to go all out for her to show that this is what he wants and he feels safe and secure enough in himself and them as a couple to make it official. It’s what he craved.

He heard Delilah’s feet softly moving on the hardwood flooring to get from the entry to the kitchen. He also knew she had smelt his cooking and seen the rose petals, candles and blankets scattered all over the living room. There was no doubt she was suspicious over the reason for his doings, but at the same time she held back and waited for Harry to make the first step.

“Hi lovey, dinner is almost ready. You want to change into something comfy before we eat?” Harry only turned around for a single second to try and see if her face could tell him anything about how she’s feeling.

“Smells delicious. Be back in a tick, sweets.” The grin creeping out from his lips couldn’t be stopped after hearing her call him his favorite nickname. He hopes it means she’s happy with him. While Delilah changes upstairs in their - pretty much - shared closet, Harry dishes up the plates and finds her favorite red wine to drink with the meal. Right as he finishes putting everything in its place, she descends from the staircase and Harry finally takes a moment to admire her. He finds her beautiful in a pair of leggings and one of Harry’s hoodies she decided to steal. Before getting completely lost in her beauty, he coughs and reaches his hand out to tell her to come sit with him on the floor in front of the sofa.

Harry wanted to wait until they had finished their meal to bring their relationship up, hoping to enjoy their little impromptu - on her end at least - date night before getting serious. Delilah was smiling and wouldn’t stop gushing over his surprise making him feel better about what was to come. He was sure she would say yes, but the little doubt he had left in him wouldn’t go away until he got his answer and knew for sure.

Later in the evening, they were still sitting on the floor, talking about their days and upcoming events. Harry’s hand was running along her legs thrown over his lap and hers were holding the wine glass recently filled up again when he felt the need to get everything off his chest.

“Darling. I know I’ve taken things slow with you, slower than we both probably wanted, but I hope you know I haven’t been stringing you along for nothing. Tonight I wanted to show you how much you mean to me and how much I’ve grown to care for you. I hope you knew that anyway.” Harry was smiling at her while coming clean with all his thoughts and feelings.

“I’ve loved the naturalness of how we’ve moved through our friendship. Nothing with you has ever felt forced or uncomfortable, maybe because you let me take my time and have control over what I can. I can’t tell you how much that has meant to me and I want you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed. The domesticity around us feels so easy and I hope that doesn’t ever change. Because we’ve been acting as if we’re together, it kind of slipped my mind that we’re not, but tonight I wanted to ask you, finally, if you want to make it official and be mine?”

**

After making it official, there was nothing holding them back from each other. They were together as much as their lives allowed them to be and Delilah even surprised Harry by going to his first show on tour in Los Angeles. He thought she didn’t get the time off of work to be able to come, but Delilah knew he wouldn’t be upset with her lying about it when in the end it would make him happy. They had been official for six months at the time and were practically inseparable. Neither of them knew how they would do with the distance over a longer period of time compared to the two to three weeks he was usually gone for before coming home. Sure in themselves and what they had, they knew they’d get through this, too.

**

Delilah hadn’t gotten the chance to surprise Harry much over the past year since she got to know Harry, unlike how he had managed to surprise her quite a few times. They were often small, but thought out and always showed her how much he appreciated her. For the longest time; she had been thinking about how she could surprise him without him finding out - and her chance came landing right into her hands with him going on tour. She called Jeff the minute she thought of it, the day after Harry asking her if she would be able to come out for a couple of days during his tour, preferably the first show.

Jeff and Delilah had managed to keep the secret from Harry for over a month with Jeff buying her a plane ticket for the day his first show was. She got picked up by a driver at the airport and drove straight to the Forum to catch him on stage singing his heart out. Though she was only able to see him for the last fifteen minutes of his first show, it was exactly what she imagined - Harry dancing around the stage, singing to a crowd so loud she thought her ears might lose hearing.

Right before Harry was set to come off stage, Delilah was guided through the backstage area to Harry’s dressing room where he would finally see her and hopefully get surprised. She was sitting on the black leather sofa with her hands fiddling in her lap as she waited the short while. It was clear he was getting closer as the loud screams got quieter. Excitement, nervousness, happiness, restlessness. They were all feelings running through her, the anxiety easier to feel when she finally heard his laughter moving through the hallways and she knew he was only meters away from her.

Only seconds later she saw the door handle jiggle before the door opened just a crack as he was still standing in the hallway talking to someone Delilah couldn’t quite distinguish. Finally, he pushed the door further open and he was turning toward her, no idea someone would be waiting for him, nevertheless, his girlfriend he thought was stuck at work back in London. His eyes landed on her and for a while, he just stood in front of her still in the doorway thinking he was seeing things. When he understood that she was actually sitting in front of him his eyes couldn’t help but glaze over while shutting the door - he wanted this moment to be between him and his girl, no one else. Harry practically ran toward her, thinking he couldn’t get to her fast enough, and Delilah just about managed to stand up before he threw himself at her.

For a long time they stood on his dressing room floor, Harry’s arms around her neck and Delilah’s around his waist as they held each other close. Both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, not from the three weeks they had been away from each other, but the sentiment of her actions. All the small things she had done for him since day one, waiting for him to feel comfortable and ready to dive into what they hoped would be a future together, always asking before doing something he might not be okay with, being too kind and gentle with him, always, and lastly her surprising him on tour. Something suddenly clicked in his head as he smelled her cherry blossom perfume he loved so much - this was it; Delilah was it for him, it was she he had been waiting for to come into his life after going through too many shitty relationships and breakups. There was no way he would let this one go when she understands him and loves him for everything he is (though they hadn’t said that yet - Delilah being afraid to scare him away and Harry wanting to wait until one day it slipped and came naturally).

Delilah, too, felt the same. She knew he was it for her - showering her with the affection and tenderness she needed from someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. They were perfect together and if taking it slow was the way to go with Harry then she would continue to do so forever, making sure he is always comfortable and safe with her.

**

Thank you for reading, will hopefully be back with another chapter of my fwb series soon <3

#playlistficchallenge #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles smut

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

my tears ricochet

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[warnings: death, and funeral]

word count: 4829

[a/n: sorry for such a long wait. I've been busy. I thought once I was done for the semester I would have a lot more time to work on my stories, but if anything my summer break has been more hectic. Just because I haven't been posting, doesn't mean I haven't been working on them. Just know that I am working on the new chapters for this and for TKWBA, just need a bit of patience from you all. Also thank-you for the continue love and support on all my work]

Series Masterlist

Tag list info here [if you want to be tagged please read this]

Age: 21

Year: Sep. 2015

Location: Brooklyn, NY & Stanford, CA

Elizabeth was sat at her desk doing her homework. She was anxiously waiting for Steve's call about the baby arriving. He had called her two hours prior to let her know that Natasha had gone into labor, and they were at the hospital. Steve told her that he'd call her as soon as he heard the news. She tried her hardest to focus on her homework, but she found herself constantly checking her phone for any updates.

Suddenly her phone started going off. She instantly picked it up and answered the call.

"Is the baby here?" She immediately asked.

"Liz," Steve choked out.

"Steve, what's wrong?" She could hear the distress in his voice.

"Natasha, she," he tried to say but the words got caught in his throat, and she could hear the soft cries.

"Steve, breathe," she tries to calm him down the best she could without actually physically being with him.

Elizabeth was simultaneously trying to keep herself calm, and not rush into any assumptions.

"She died," he said after calming himself down enough to tell her what happened.

"She died?"

"I guess there were complications, he tells her, still unsure of what exactly happened.

Steve hadn't thought to ask further into what exactly happened when Bucky's mom called to tell him the devastating news. He couldn't wrap his head around what she was telling him. He just never imagined that this would be the outcome of his best friend welcoming his first child into the world.

Steve clears his throat trying to force the lump back down.

"I'm catching the next flight out to New York," he tells Elizabeth, "I just gotta be there for Bucky."

"Yeah, of course," she says, completely understanding.

"I know you can't exactly fly out now, without letting your professors know, so as soon as I find out all the funeral," his throat catches at the word, he takes a small breath, "all the funeral information I'll let you know."

"Okay that works," she agrees.

"Okay. I haven't to pack real quick and get to the airport within the next hour," he tells her.

"Okay, I'll let you go."

"Wait, Steve," she calls out before he could hang up.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she says with a shaky voice.

"I love you too, so much," he says, "I'll text you when I board the plane."

After one final goodbye, Steve hangs up the phone.

The flight seemed like Steve's longest one he's ever been on. As soon as he landed he quickly grabbed his carry on, the only thing aside from his backpack that he brought with him. Elizabeth had messaged him letting him know that she could bring more of his stuff once she flies out.

Steve made his way out of the airport to find his mom waiting for him by her car. He quickly made his way towards her and wrapping his arms around her.

On the drive to Bucky's apartment Steve sent Liz a text letting her know he landed. He then called Bucky's mom to let her know he was on the way.

"Thank-you for coming out Steve," Winnie thanks him, "The baby is just about to get discharged, we should be at the apartment before you get there."

"Of course, I'll see you guys soon," he says hanging up the phone.

Steve then sends a quick email to his boss and professors explains his absence and why he'll most likely be gone for a couple of weeks.

An hour later Steve's mom was stopping outside of Bucky's building.

"Let them know I'm here if they need anything," his mom tells him before he exists the car, "I'll come back at noon with lunch for everyone."

"Thanks Mom," he says leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Steve exists the car leaving his bags with his mom. He takes one final breath before walking to the front doors. Steve presses the call button for Bucky's apartment and was immediately buzzed in.

As soon as he reaches Bucky's door, he knocks quietly. The door opens and he's welcomed by Rebecca. He takes in the sullen face on the teenage girl.

"Hey Bec," he says.

"Hi," she quietly says, as they hug each other in the door way.

When they pull apart she steps aside letting him inside.

"It's just my parents and I here. Bucky didn't want to deal with a lot of people right now," she explains to Steve.

"Steve," he hears from his left, Keith, Bucky's stepdad makes his way out of the small kitchenette over to him, and embracing him, "Thank-you so much for coming. We know you're a very busy person."

Before Steve could respond Bucky's mom Winnie walks into the living room.

"Oh Steve," she immediately wraps her arms around him.

"Thank-you so much for coming on such a short notice," she says. Steve could hear the shakiness in her voice. He could tell she was trying to keep it together. No doubt the last 12 hours being the most stressful and emotional she's ever been.

"There's no need to thank me. This is where I need to be," he tells them.

"Let us at least pay you back for the flight," Keith says.

"No, don't worry about that," Steve waves him off, "I had a lot of miles that needed to be used."

"Well, thank-you again," Keith nods his head, understanding where Steve was coming from.

"You can go on ahead Steve. Bucky is waiting for you in the nursery," Winnie tells him, giving him an assuring nod, he nods back making his way towards the nursery.

The short walk seemed like it was much longer. Steve has never felt so nervous in his life. When he approaches the closed door, he softly knocks on it.

"Come in," Bucky calls from inside.

Steve walks in, closing the door behind him. He's immediately greeted by Bucky sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, feeding his newborn daughter.

"Hey," Steve softly says, not sure what to say.

"Hey," Bucky greeted Steve with a sad smile.

It had been 12 hours later and it still didn't feel real to Bucky. The hospital had even offered the chance for him and Poppy to stay a couple of days, but all Bucky wanted to do was to go home and get away from the hospital. But now being back in the apartment without Natasha was surreal. He was trying his best to keep it all in, at least while the baby is awake and needs him.

He was determined in being the one that cared for her, even when his mom offered to take care of her for a few hours while he gets some rest. He assured her that he needed to do this. He had to do it alone, because he knew that soon enough it would just be him and Poppy.

Bucky was very grateful when he heard Steve was flying out. He felt like Steve was the only one he could really talk to about everything going on.

Steve was still standing by the door, just watching his best friend be a dad for the first time. He had no idea what to say in this kind of situation. The words were caught in his throat the moment he actually saw Bucky.

"Thanks for coming," Bucky says breaking the silence. Steve immediately looks away from the baby to meet Bucky's eyes.

"You would've done the same thing," Steve says, "And like I've said before, I'll always be here for you."

"I don't care how far, I'll always be on that first flight to you," Steve continues, he glances down at the now sleepy baby, "You're my brother Buck."

There was a moment of silence between the young men. Both understanding what the other one means with such few words.

Steve watched as Bucky gently placed the sleepy baby on his shoulder to burp her.

"It suits you," Steve quietly remarks.

"What?" Bucky looked up at him confused.

"Fatherhood, it suits you," Steve says again, stepping closer to his friend.

"You think?" Bucky looks back down at the now sleeping baby.

"Yeah. I know it's only been less than a day, but you look natural. Make it look easy."

"Thanks," Bucky smiled, getting up for the he chair and walking over to the crib to gently place Poppy in.

Steve walked over, standing next to Bucky, watching the little one sleep peacefully.

"What's her name?" Steve whispered, realizing that he hadn't found out what the name of the baby was.

"Poppy James Barnes," Bucky proudly says.

"That's cute," Steve commented, he placed his right hand on Bucky's left shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

Bucky looked over at Steve and they both nodded their heads in agreement, before falling into an embrace.

"I am so sorry," Steve quietly says.

"It happened so quick, she barely even got to see the baby," Bucky quietly cried into Steve's shoulder, "I never even thought of this would be the outcome. I never imagined I'd be coming home solo with the baby."

Steve tightened his embrace on Bucky, just listening to his friend.

"I don't know how I'm going to do this Steve. I don't know how I'm going to raise her without her mom. I'm trying to keep it together to not worry my mom, but fuck Steve, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm scared I'll screw this all up. I'm scared I'll screw her up.

"I'm so scared Steve," Bucky cries.

"It's okay to be scared," Steve tries his best to comfort Bucky, "I'd be more concerned if you weren't scared. This is entirely new territory for you. You're raising a child, a child who unfortunately no longer has her mother. That alone is a fucking terrifying thing to go through.

"It's not going to be easy. There's no point in lying to you, and saying it will. You and I both that won't be the truth. But if there's anyone I know who could do this, it's you Buck. You're the strongest person I know. Whatever has happened before this doesn't matter. The only thing that matters now is that little girl. And I know damn well you're going to give her the best life she will ever have," Steve pulls away from Bucky and holds onto his shoulders.

"And you're not alone in this. You have a lot of people who care about you, and now Poppy. You will never be alone. You'll always have someone to call, someone to help you. You're crazy to think we would ever leave you to do this alone. We're here, and we're not going anywhere. You and Poppy will never have to be alone. She might not have her mom, but she's got you, and I know damn well you won't ever let her wonder what being without one parent truly feels like.

"You've got this Buck," Steve assures him, "And we're here every step of the way."

"Thanks Steve," Bucky sniffles, wiping the tears away.

"No need to thank me," Steve smiles, "Now why don't you go take a nap. Get some rest. We're here if Poppy wakes up."

"Yeah I could use some sleep," Bucky yawns, his adrenaline from the last 12 hours fading away.

Steve walks Bucky to his bedroom and watches as he gets into his bed, and quickly falls asleep. He quietly closes the door behind him, with the baby monitor in one hand checking to make sure Poppy is still asleep.

He walks back into the living room, placing the monitor by the tv for everyone to see and hear.

"They're both asleep," Steve announces to the room.

"Oh thank goodness," Winnie sighs, "James hasn't taken a moment to rest since everything happened."

"Knowing Bucky, we'll probably have to be forcing him to rest for the next couple of weeks," Steve says.

"I just got off of the phone with Natasha's father," Keith said walking back inside the apartment.

"What did he say?" Winnie asked.

"He said that the funeral is all up to us," Keith sighs, "Something about how Natasha made her own path with getting pregnant, and that once she left she was no longer his responsibility."

"He really said that?" Winnie asked mortified.

"I'm afraid so," Keith sighed, "I tried reasoning with him saying we would handle everything financially and he can come to the funeral but he said no."

"What kind of father doesn't show up to his own daughter's funeral," Winnie shakes her head in complete disbelief.

"Explains why Natasha was the way she was," Rebecca whispered, so that only Steve could hear her.

He reluctantly agrees.

Two weeks later

Elizabeth was helping Steve with his tie in his childhood bedroom. She had flown in yesterday for today's funeral services. Elizabeth had gotten in late last night, so she still hasn't seen Bucky or Poppy yet. She was a let to get a week off of work and her professors gave her an extension on her assignments when she explained to them what happened.

"I still can't believe Natasha's dad isn't going," she says as she straightens out Steve's tie.

"Bucky's mom is still holding out hope that he shows up," Steve says.

"What does Bucky think of it all?" Elizabeth asks.

"He's not worrying about it," Steve explains, looking over himself in the mirror, "His only concern right now is Poppy and only Poppy. If Nat's dad shows up then he does. But as of now Bucky has made the decision that he will not be in Poppy's life. Not until he proves himself."

"That's very mature," she says grabbing her purse.

"This Buck is like a whole new one you've never seen before. Fatherhood has made him a thousand times more grown up these last couple of weeks."

"That's good."

"Ready to go?" Steve asked her, grabbing the keys to his mom's car.

"Yup," Elizabeth says following Steve out.

Bucky had asked Steve to pick him and Poppy up, and Steve had of course agreed.

They arrived to Bucky's apartment in fifteen minutes. Walking up to Bucky's door they could hear a lot of commotion coming from inside. Steve used the key Bucky gave him to let himself and Elizabeth in.

As soon as they walked in they were greeted by the sounds of a baby crying.

"Buck?" Steve called out.

"We're in here," he calls from the nursery.

They go to the nursery to find Bucky looking frazzled while trying to change Poppy's diaper.

"I'm so sorry. I'm running so behind," Bucky tells them, glancing over his shoulder quickly,

"Poppy didn't sleep well last night. And nothing I've tried has been working."

"It's okay Buck, just take your time," Steve calmly says.

"I still need to shower, shave, and get dressed," Bucky rambles, "She's going to need another change of clothes because she spat all over herself, and my mom only bought this one outfit for today."

"Hey Bucky, calm down," Elizabeth calmly spoke up, placing her hand on his back, "Take a breath."

Bucky felt the warmth and comfort from Liz's touch. He listens to what she says and takes a deep breath.

"Okay good," she says, "now you go get ready. Steve and I got this."

"Okay," he nods his head, handing the baby over to Elizabeth, "thank-you."

"Of course," she softly smiles at him, "now go get ready."

Bucky quickly makes his way out of the room and into his own to get ready.

Elizabeth looks down at the small baby in her arms. She could see so much of Bucky in the baby with hints of Natasha. It was a little strange for her to be holding Bucky's baby and it not being her baby as well. Not that she ever wanted to get back together with Bucky, because she didn't. There was just a little voice in her head, that of her teenage self, saying how it was supposed to be them, doing this together.

She quickly shut the voice down.

Elizabeth was incredibly sympathetic of Bucky's situation. All she wanted to do was be there for him, as a friend. She wanted Bucky to succeed as a father, and she would do what she could to make that happen.

Steve silently watched Elizabeth watching Poppy. He couldn't really read her expression. He hates to admit it to himself, especially with everything going on, but he was slightly worried about how Liz would react to all of this. He had faith in their relationship, of course he trusted her immensely. But he still couldn't help but feel like she might decide to leave him for Bucky. Elizabeth turned around to see Steve looking at her with a distant look in his eyes.

"You good?" She gently asked, breaking him from his self-destructive thoughts.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah," she nods her head, handing the baby over to him, "I'm going to try and find her a new outfit.

"Okay," Steve says sitting down with the baby.

"I love you," Liz quietly says to Steve, knowing what could possibly going through his mind, if hers was also wandering.

"I love you," Steve replies back, finding himself relaxing at just hearing those three words, any doubt slipping away.

30 minutes later Bucky was ready to go. He walked out to the living room where he found Steve and Elizabeth sitting with each other holding the baby. He paused for a moment taking in the scene in front of him. He felt a sense of warmth and low flow through him as his closest friends admire his daughter. In that moment he knew he had made the right decision in what he would tell them next.

Steve glanced up to see Bucky leaning against the frame of the hallway.

"Ready?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, but I actually wanted to ask you two something before we go," Bucky says walking over and sitting on a chair next to the couch.

"Sure, what's up?" Steve leans forward, leaning on his knees, giving Bucky his full attention.

Elizabeth tears her eyes away from Poppy to also give Bucky her full attention. She smiles at him, letting him know he could continue on.

"I first and foremost just want to thank you Steve, for what probably is the hundredth time," Bucky says, "I know you have a lot going on with work and school. So I really appreciate everything you've done for me and for Poppy. And you too Elizabeth, I know you're incredibly busy especially with law school prep. And with everything that's happened between-"

"Don't," she stopped him, "What's past is past."

"Well anyways, thank-you," Bucky says, "Now here comes what I wanted to ask you two. There's no other two people I wouldn't trust more with Poppy. So I wanted to ask if you would be her godparents?"

"Really?" Elizabeth asked taken back by Bucky's request.

"Yes," he nods his head, "There's no one else I wouldn't trust with her if anything happens. It'll help me sleep better knowing she'll have two people who'll love her like I would. Two people who have so much love between them, that I know will always be together."

Both Steve and Elizabeth were taken back by Bucky's last statement. They knew Bucky had accepted their relationship, but to actually have him not only say it out loud but to practically give them his blessing, it meant the world to the couple.

Steve and Elizabeth both share a look with tears glistening in their eyes. Elizabeth nods her head.

Steve turns back to Bucky, "We'd be honored to be Poppy's godparents."

Elizabeth and Steve stood up to hug Bucky. All filled with a wide range of emotions. Bucky felt a huge sense of comfort after asking Liz and Steve to be Poppy's godparents. He knew he made the right decision, and he knew he could now sleep better at night knowing his daughter would be taken care of. And by two people he knows can love her the way he does.

After what happened with Natasha, Bucky just wanted to make sure Poppy would be taken care of. If she couldn't have her parents, then she would have the closest thing to having parents. And Bucky knows Steve and Elizabeth would be amazing parents.

That alone allowed him to be at peace for whatever may happen.

Arriving to the funeral location Bucky felt his nerves start to spike. He sat in the backseat looking out the window at the familiar faces walking into the chapel.

"You okay?" Elizabeth asked turning in her seat, after Steve parked the car.

"I don't know if I can do this," he mutters, glancing towards the sleeping baby in the car seat next to him.

"We'll be right next to you along the entire way," Liz calmly says.

"If you feel too overwhelmed we'll leave whenever you want," Steve tells him, "We won't stay if you absolutely can't handle it. No one will hold it against you."

"Okay," Bucky takes a deep breath.

"Stay here, I'll get the stroller out," Steve says, getting out of the car.

"No one is expecting you to be brave, Buck," Elizabeth says, "You're allowed to be vulnerable. You're allowed to show emotions."

He nods his head, taking in what she's telling him.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small necklace. Clutching onto it as if his life depended on it.

Elizabeth catches the small 'N' on it, realizing that that was the necklace Natasha wore everyday since she was 13.

Bucky takes one final deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

"Okay, I'm ready," he tells her.

"Okay, let's do this."

Bucky was grateful that they arrived only minutes before the service started. Everyone was already seated in the pews.

He slowly walked down the aisle pushing the stroller, Steve and Elizabeth walking right behind him.

Bucky tried his best to avoid any eye contact with everyone. He couldn't bare to look at the pity in their eyes.

He caught sight of his family siting in the second row. He also noticed a man sitting alone in the first row.

He instantly knew who it was.

Once Bucky reached the first row, the man made to movement to greet Bucky.

Bucky cleared his throat, "Mr. Romanoff."

The older man looked over at Bucky, then at the stroller.

"James," he stiffly said, turning his attention back to the front.

Bucky awkwardly sat down placing the stroller next to his legs, away from Natasha's father, while Steve and Elizabeth sat next to Bucky.

The service was going smoothly up until the priest announced that Natasha's father would be making a speech, catching everyone off guard.

Bucky looked at the older man as he walked up to the stand. He turned around to face his mom, "Did you know this?" he whispered.

"No I didn't," she shook her head.

Right as Mr. Romanoff was about to start speaking, Poppy began to cry. Bucky quickly went to get her out of the stroller, while Steve quickly went to grab a bottle to help him out.

As soon as the baby calmed down Mr. Romanoff began to speak.

"First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for coming," he begins, "I really appreciate it. Natasha would be eternally grateful for all of you."

Bucky started to get annoyed by the beginning of Mr. Romanoff's speech. As if the man didn't turn down the invitation for the last two weeks. Now he's trying to act like the perfect father, as if he didn't kick her out and cut off his pregnant daughter.

"Natasha was a kind hearted person. Only wanting the best for those closest to her. She was the most selfless person you would have ever met," he continued on with his speech.

Elizabeth couldn't help but be confused by Mr. Romanoff's speech. She hated thinking ill of the dead, but that man had no idea who his daughter truly was.

"Natasha was so smart, earning her way into Yale. She was only months away from graduating. I was so incredibly proud of her. If only we would've gotten the opportunity to watch her walk across the stage.

"Other than leaving an everlasting impression on all of us, she also left behind a part of her. Her last moments on Earth was spent bringing in another Romanoff," he says.

Bucky's head snapped up to Mr. Romanoff, then towards Steve.

"Romanoff?" Bucky whispered, "This man has the fucking nerve."

"Ignore him," Steve whispered back, trying to calm Bucky down, "He's just saying all of this to make himself look good."

"Natasha brought her daughter into the world," Mr. Romanoff continued, forcing fake tears to fall, "I remember being by her side as she was in labor."

Bucky clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to call Mr. Romanoff out on his lies.

"As she was dying," Mr. Romanoff paused for dramatic effect, "Her only request was to name her daughter after her."

Steve paled his hand on Bucky's shoulder, trying his best to calm him down. It was too late, Bucky was already placing Poppy in Steve's arms.

"What a fucking lie," Bucky stood up shouting at Mr. Romanoff, causing everyone to gasp.

"James," Mr. Romanoff said through gritted teeth, as a warning.

"How could you just lie to all these people?" Bucky shouted, "How could you lie as if you didn't disown Natasha months prior when she told you she was pregnant. Or when my parents kept inviting you to the funeral, you kept saying no and how Natasha's decisions led to their death. How dare you say you were in the delivery room. As if you didn't have her number blocked.  My mom and I were there when things took a horrible turn. We were there when the doctor walked out and told us Natasha didn't make it. Not you! Us!

"Then you go on to make some shitty story about Nat's last words. Which is completely false. Natasha never wanted to name the baby after herself, you'd actually know that if you were actually present in her life. But you weren't. And you sure as hell will never be a part of your granddaughter's life."

Bucky turned to Steve and Liz, "Let's go."

They nodded their heads and helped put Poppy in the stroller. They followed Bucky as he walked out of the chapel.

After leaving the funeral services, Steve was able to calm Bucky down. Winnie had called Elizabeth to let her know that the burial services the next day were officially going to be private. Liz agreed that that'd be best for everyone involved. Especially with what happened during the funeral services.

The burial service was only attended by Bucky, and his family, along with Elizabeth and Steve.

Everything went along smoothly. Everyone giving Bucky the safe space to grieve.

After the burial, everyone gave Bucky a few moments alone at the grave site so he can say his final goodbyes.

"Hey Nat," he pauses taking a deep breath, "these last two weeks haven't been the easiest. But boy have they been amazing. I may be more exhausted than I've ever been, but boy is she worth it.

"She may only be two weeks but I can already tell she's going to be the most amazing person ever," he softly cries, "You would've loved her so much. But like I promised back at the hospital, she'll never not know who her mother was. I will always make sure she knows who you were. Always."

"Goodbye Natasha," he whispered, before walking away to join his family waiting.

Age: 26

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Year: 2020

"Daddy, what's this?" Poppy calls out to her father from his bedroom.

"What's what petal?" He asked walking into the room, finding her surrounded by boxes, as they prep for their move uptown.

"This," she holds up the small necklace with the 'N'.

Bucky kept that necklace in a small box in his nightstand. He kept it at the bottom of his nightstand for safe keepings. Planning on one day to give it to his daughter. He always planned to wait until she was 16, but he figures now is as good as ever.

"That was your mommy Natasha's," he said walking over to her, and sitting next to her on his bed, "She got it when she was 13, and wore it every day up until when she died."

"It's pretty," she says admiring it in her hands.

"It is isn't it," he smiles at his little girl, "It's now yours."

He grabs the necklace from her little hands. He unclasps it, then gently moves her dirty blonde hair to the side. He places the necklace around her neck, and clasps it shut.

"Thank-you daddy," she smiles brightly at her father, admiring the necklace that now lay on her chest.

Bucky smiled at his daughter, watching as she kept admiring the necklace. It was a little big on her, but he knew she would grow into it.

"Anything for you baby," he kisses the top of her head, "Anything."

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