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afewproblems · 1 year

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Warm my Cold and Tired Heart (Part Three)

Part One and Part Two

After that night, it’s as though Eddie has taken it upon himself to ensure that Steve is never alone, he's just always…there?

The kids want ice cream on a random Saturday? Eddie is there to tag along. The kids D&D matches of course go without saying, Eddie had even gone so far as to dust off an old character to join the party and let Will run a campaign for old times sake.

Robin drops by with the classifieds for the pair of them to peruse, Eddie invites himself along and shows up later with a six pack and a story of his own experience for nearly every type of listing that Robin has circled.

When Eddie leaves Robin whirls around slapping Steve's arms with wild hands, Steve yelps and raises his own to defend his vulnerable face, "Robin! What the F--"

"You like him!" She hisses in Steve's face, "when were you going to tell me?"

Steve stills, which only seems to fuel Robin's indignation and she tosses her hands in the air above her head and stands up.

He feels so much smaller as she paces back and forth in front of him, rambling out a list, something to do with music taste, and numbering off her fingers with each point, the words trail off as Steve bends forward with his face in his hands.

"Robin," he says through his fingers as she walks towards him. She kneels in front of him, peering into his hidden face.

He can't, saying it out loud, right now, it's too raw, too real. Eddie is too nice…

And Steve? Well, it doesn't matter.

Robin reaches out and gently peels back his hands, keeping hold of them in her small ones. Her eyes linger on his own before she scowls briefly and sighs.

"Okay, okay dingus," Robin says softly as she squeezes his hands, "but we are going to talk about this".

It comes out as more of a question which makes Steve grin at the absurdity of it all, he's reduced Robin, wonderful, brash Robin to this quiet uncertain person kneeling in front of him.

And he just can't do that to her.

Steve takes a deep breath through his mouth and releases it slowly through his nose, it helps with the churning of his stomach and the anxious racing of his heart.

"No, no its okay Rob, we can, I can, talk about it," he hesitates and rubs a hand roughly over his mouth, "not really much to talk about though, it's stupid and it'll go away".

Robin tilts her head and narrows her eyes at him, "What does that mean?" She asks, as she crosses her arms loosely, her posture seems relaxed but she can't hide the tension in her shoulders.

"It'll go away, I don't, it doesn't matter Robin, really," Steve grits out, "Eddie is just…"

"Just what?"

Too funny, too sarcastic, a better friend to the kids, a good listener, always knows how to cut the tension with a joke.

Too good for Steve. Just like everyone else.

"Just a crush Rob, and those don't mean anything okay, maybe it's not even a crush, maybe it's just like," he fits his hands together, intertwining his fingers, the words stop short though as Robin's eyebrow raises.

Steve sighs and shakes his head, "I don't know what to do Robbie," he whispers and something in his tone softens the expression on her face.

"Well, I can't say how helpful my advice on a 'non-crush' will be," Robin hums, throwing up exaggerated finger quotes as she continues, "but, I've been told I have the potential to be an excellent listener if you just want to talk or vent or whatever".

Steve laughs and reaches out to push her face gently away with his one hand, the other rises to catch her own flailing arms as she squawks and valiantly attempts to defend herself.

They dissolve into thrown elbows and giggles, Robin fights dirty, pulling the back of Steve's shirt over his head, Steve concedes as they both attempt to catch their breath on the floor of the Harrington living-room.

"Thanks Robbie," Steve mumbles after he removes the edge of his shirt from his head, he ruffles a hand through his staticy locks and grins widely at his best friend.

Robin smiles back and knocks a gentle fist into his shoulder, "anytime doofus".

Eddie's presence continues unimpeded, Steve both loves and hates it.

He loves being around Eddie, his energy is infectious and never fails to make Steve smile.

But, a small vicious voice never fails to creep in, just as an evening ends or they part ways to drop off the kids, a voice that reminds Steve, you don't deserve nice things, nice things never stay nice for long.

It was the Arcade this time around, Eddie offered his van to cart the kids all at once while Jonathan brought Will, El, and Max in the Buyers station wagon. Steve was surprised when the invitation extended to him as well.

“It wouldn’t be the same without you Stevie, plus if Lucas thinks I’m going to be able to help with the hoops shooter then he’s dreamin’,” Eddie says with his trademark dimpled grin, the one that fills Steve’s gut with warmth at the sight, he laughs and knocks into Eddie’s shoulder with his own.

“Such a hardship, what would you do without me I wonder,” Steve says with a smirk.

It's easy today, he’d managed to get a good six hours of sleep the night before and Dustin’s mother, Claudia, had even sent Steve home from their last hangout with a green bean casserole - which he’d immediately stuffed into the freezer to make it last longer. Green beans or not, it was a home cooked meal Steve didn’t have to make himself. He tried not to think about the ever expanding empty spaces in his pantry.

As soon as they pulled into the parking lot the kids tear out of the van, their voices melding with the chorus of laughter and soft top forties mix trailing out from the open doors of the arcade. Steve smiles at the joyful laugh that bursts from Eddie at the kids' antics. It’s nice to hear that laugh more and more Steve finds.

Lucas hangs back at the van watching his friends walk through the doors, he puts his hands in his hoodie pockets and leans back against the vehicle.

“Lucas, you’re not heading in?” Steve says as he opens the passenger door and steps out, Eddie is not too far behind him as he pulls a cigarette out of his vest pocket and brings a silver zippo to his lips.

“I’m waiting for Max, she still needs help sometimes getting out of cars,” Lucas says with a shrug, “would’ve been easier if she had just come with us”. The words come out bitter but soft, he crosses his arms and leans back against the van heavily, kicking a rock by his foot with more force than necessary.

Steve’s eyes dart from Eddie and back to Lucas, the kid can certainly be cagey and hot headed when he wants to be, almost giving Mike a run for his money, but Steve hasn’t seen this side of Lucas in awhile.

“Well,” Steve says slowly, stepping into Lucas’s space and leaning against the same door of the van, “we definitely didn’t have enough room for all of us to go in Eddie’s van, and I know that Max and El wanted some time to catch up with each other,” he tries to catch Lucas’s eye but his face remains steadfastly pointed towards the ground and the rock the now lay out of reach.

Steve spots the Buyers car heading down the road, closer and closer towards the parking lot, he tilts his head towards the oncoming car, “You have about thirty seconds to decide if you want to be a shit about it, or if you want to spend a nice day with your girlfriend”.

Lucas rolls his eyes and throws his shoulders away from the van, his face twists into a fierce glare at Steve, “I’m not being a shit,” he snarls, his fingers curling into fists.

Steve raises his hands in front of him, palms up, “Lucas, relax, you can be mad but you can’t take it out on other people, so fifteen seconds, what’s it gonna be?”

All at once the fight drains out of the kid, his shoulders droop as though the taught strings holding him up have been severed. He nods, his head bowed, refusing to make eye contact.

Steve sighs, he runs a hand through his hair and quick as a whip uses his pointer finger to poke Lucas’s chest before bringing the same finger up to catch his nose, the action startles a laugh out of the kid.

“Better?” Steve says quietly as Jonathan pulls into the space across from them, El waves from the backseat with a jubilant expression on her face, Will smiles through the windshield and waves as well, although it's a more sedate wave than his sister. Jonathan gets out of the car and heads to the back to open the door for Max on the driver's side.

“Thanks Steve,” Lucas says quietly as he takes off to help Jonathan with Max. The doctors said she would not need crutches or a wheelchair long term but she still has a long road to recovery ahead of her mobility and the loss of ninety percent of her vision. Max needed as many people in her corner as she could get.

“You’re really good with them,” a voice in his ear says lightly, he jumps at the sudden proximity of Eddie at his shoulder, “handled that like a champ man”.

Steve shrugs and turns away from the others. Eddie drops the nearly finished cigarette and snuffs out the faint embers with his shoe; the smell of smoke curls around him like a cat, clinging to his wild hair and the jean fabric of his vest. It isn’t necessarily even a nice smell, but it’s synonymous with Eddie, and Steve can’t help but breathe in deeply when Eddie steps back into his space.

“Nah, that was easy, you want a real challenge you should try getting Mike to agree to anything you say,” Steve huffed with a small laugh, “you could tell him that the the sky was an amazing shade of blue and he’d be over here insisting it was actually purple and you were a moron”.

Eddie cackles and swings an arm out to wrap around Steve’s shoulder in a tight side hug that leaves him breathless, a bubble of nervous laughter rolls out of Steve, he can feel his ears and cheeks slowly heat at the sudden touch.

“You’re hiding a genuine sense of humour under all that hair Stevie,” Eddie says as he reaches up to card the fingers of his free hand through Steve’s hair.

The flush running over Steve’s ears and cheeks lights a trail of pink down his neck towards his chest, this was…new?

Eddie had certainly been physical before, from high fives, to play-fighting with Dustin, to doling out hugs after he had finally woken up at the hospital; but this was different. His hands were one of the more expressive parts of Eddie, he gestured wildly as he spoke, letting the frenetic energy ping from limb to limb when he was particularly excited about something.

They were small events, something that wouldn’t even register if Robin or even Dustin had done it, a hand on the small of his back, fingers in his hair --well maybe Steve would be hard pressed to let either of those two touch his hair like that but…this was Eddie.

“Hey,” he squawks, batting Eddie’s hands away and ducking his face to hide the flames that have seemingly engulfed his entire being as Jonathan and the kids make their way closer to the pair of them, “I’m plenty funny, my wit is just wasted on the plebeians around me most of the time”.

“Plebeian? Don’t hurt yourself there Harrington, don’t you usually work within a two syllable maximum?” Eddie crows with a smirk, his brown eyes crinkle at the corners as the dimples reveal themselves, he ducks away from the shove Steve sends his way.

“Shut up, I know lots of words,” Steve grumbles, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah like, You-Are-A-Dork,” Max calls out, counting off on each finger with a shit-eating grin. The kids and Jonathan walk slowly to give Max just a bit more time to catch up with the crutches. Lucas walks beside and just ahead of her, looking ready to catch her each time her feet catch on a loose rock on the asphalt.

“Everybody’s against me,” Steve huffs as Eddie cackles and Jonathan grins with an exasperated shake of his head.

El waves at something behind them and takes off, skipping across the parking lot, Mike appears at the main entrance hollering at everyone to ‘hurry-the-hell-up!’ or the best games would be taken.

Steve rolls his eyes.

They were at the arcade…on a Saturday…and with it being one of the few places on mainstreet that had suffered minimal damage during the near-apocalypse - the place was always packed.

Will jogs ahead as well, though he stops momentarily to wait for Lucas and Max.

“Oh you heard him,” Max grumbles, she adjusts the crutches under her armpits and swings them forward to continue, “All the best games will be gone, well that would just be the worst thing that could ever happen to us. Oh wait”.

Lucas and Will laugh as the three of them follow after El and Mike, disappearing through the doors.

“I don’t know how someone so small can be so sarcastic,” Jonathan says, the words soft and smooth as he leans in conspiratorially, “your turn Harrington”.

Steve snorts and tries to ignore the knot of anxiety that tightens in his chest. Things have been okay with Jonathan --they aren’t unfriendly with each other, especially now after everything they’ve all been through, but they aren’t exactly close.

It was certainly better than getting his face smashed in though, he’d take awkward small talk over a back alley brawl any day.

“Buyers,” Eddie says, lifting his hand into a high five that Jonathan slowly returns, a bewildered expression on his face, “taking over as chauffeur for Stevie over here?”

Eddie brings an arm around Steve’s neck, tilting his whole torso down and throwing him off balance with the sudden change. Steve barks out a laugh that sounds vaguely like a yelp and grins widely as he is pulled closer into Eddie - nearly tucked into his side.

The fading cigarette smoke clings to Eddie’s hair and denim vest, it mingles with something spicy that makes Steve want to pull closer and shove his nose behind Eddie’s ear.

“Yeah, uh it's fine,” Jonathan says, the words are mild but the tone is strange, Steve freezes and shifts to stand up straight, mourning the loss of warmth from Eddie’s arm as it drops to let him go easily.

“I just have a shift tonight,”Jonathan continues, clearing his throat as he speaks, “so as long as you guys are still okay to hang with the kids for their game, my mom’s working and Hopper’s going out with Callahan tonight so,” his eyes move from Steve’s face to Eddie’s and back again, a small furrow grows between his brows as he scans Steve a second time.

“Hey, Harrington and I got it, don’t we big boy?” Eddie says with a wolfish grin, knocking his shoulder into Steve's own.

Steve freezes at the words, just like the first time, and fights the wild grin that itches to spread over his face.

Jonathan's eyes narrow slightly, flicking back and forth between Steve and Eddie. They linger on Steve for a moment before he shrugs, dropping his hands into his jeans jacket pockets.

"That's fine with me," Jonathan hums in his soft voice, "I mean between the two of you I'm sure they'll survive," Jonathan laughs as Eddie squawks and claps a hand to his own chest, the picture of indignation.

"How dare you Byers," Eddie hisses as he steps away and places his other hand against his forehead, "I can't believe this, are we going to take that Stevie?" Eddie says, pitching his voice in mock despair.

Before he can stop it, a thought blooms in his mind, spreading like ink through water.

'Oh…I love you,'

It's different than what he had felt for Nancy, than what he had felt for Robin, it's softer than before. Like the embers from a fire warming him from within. It should be scary, but it's not.

For the first time in awhile Steve feels comfortable.

"No way man," Steve says with a wry smile, "between the two of us, we can keep them alive until Max and El change their minds and then, we're done for."

Jonathan laughs brightly and taps his finger against his nose, Eddie huffs but he's still smiling broadly.

They can handle tonight.

***

Steve ascends the stairs from the basement two at a time, balancing empty cans of pop from the kids' latest D&D session in his arms, he smiles lightly at the chorus of laughter that trails after him and pushes the door to the main floor open.

Warm light hits his face as he crosses the living room of the Byers-Hopper temporary household, he steps deliberately into the plush high-pile area rug and wiggles his toes into the fibres for just a moment, everything about this home screams comfort, softness - it’s everything his own empty staged house isn’t. The pillows are mismatched and nearing threadbare, the recliner in the corner, covered in corduroy patches and a permanent divot in the middle where Hopper spends his evenings with Joyce and the kids.

This is home, this is safe.

Steve sighs and continues towards the closed door of the kitchen before hushed voices catch his attention, through the serving hatch two voices trickle into the living room alongside the brighter white fluorescent light that pools on the carpeted floor and his socked feet.

“I’m just saying--”

“I got it Buyers, ‘be careful’”

Eddie’s voice takes on a syrupy quality, fake and condescending to Jonathan, Steve frowns, the elder Buyers must have been back early from his shift at the pizza place on the far side of town.

“I mean it Munson, just be careful with Steve, I’ve seen the way he’s been looking at you--”

“Jesus,” Eddie growls, the syrup in his tone dissipates with the sudden heat flooding his words, “I got it under control, relax man.”

Steve swallows, not daring to breathe, why would Eddie need to be careful around him? Why would Jonathan be warning Eddie about him, weren’t they past all that?

Granted, it's always easier for the person who made the mistakes to want to move on from them, put a bandaid on and pretend everything is normal, of course Jonathan isn’t over it.

How could he be, it wasn’t as though they had ever really talked about it, the cruel words that Steve had thrown in his face, the rumours fueled by anger and hurt that he had spread with the help of Tommy and Carol.

Steve thinks of Jonathan and Will now, how Jon had given the kid a quick hug earlier in the afternoon before he had left for work, how he had let one arm travel up so he could cup Will’s head to quickly ruffle his hair - but this had distracted Will for long enough to give him one last squeeze.

If there was something in his life that Steve wished he could undue, that he could take back, it would be the rumour that Jonathan had killed Will himself.

Jonathan was right.

He was right to warn Eddie, to let him know about who Steve really was, what he was capable of.

Steve swallows past the lump that begins to solidify in his throat. He stands for just a moment longer, still awkwardly holding the empty cans he collected from the kids. He breathes in once, twice, before turning on his heel and heading for the front door.

Jonathan was home now, as was Eddie, it wasn’t as though the kids would be alone at this point.

Steve knows Joyce will be annoyed with him for leaving, especially without saying goodbye to her or the kids, but he just can’t be in there anymore. Not where he doesn’t belong.

Steve unlatches the front door and lets it close behind him with a soft snick. He places the cans gently on the step, behind the pillar so the wind wouldn’t take the empty aluminium and toss them around the yard, and that’s when he remembers.

“Of-fucking-course,” he hisses with a shudder, they had all come with Eddie. Steve’s car had been left with Wayne two days earlier, having finally been convinced by Robin and Eddie to let him take a look at it.

Leaving him effectively stranded, useless, without wheels.

Steve shiveres as a particularly rough wind tears over the gravel driveway, a hint of moisture in the cool spring breeze threatens as droplets hit sporadically across his face and the thin grey bomber jacket he left the house in earlier that day.

Steve turns back to the house for a moment, soft light streams through the gaps in the curtains illuminating half of his face in the dark of their driveway.

He turns and walks down the remaining length of the driveway until the last sliver of light illuminating his figure disappears, allowing him to be swallowed by the shadowy lane.

Steve zips up his jacket, letting the zipper nearly pinch the skin of his neck in his haste to shut out the cold. He reaches up to cup his ears, cursing the wind as it picks up around him. Steve hadn’t bothered with a hat earlier, content to ride in the warmth of Eddie’s van with the kids, listening to their excited buzz around Will and his new adventure he had planned with Eddie’s advice.

It was better this way, he should have stuck to what he knew, hung back more rather than let himself be coddled and sucked into this strange family he had found himself in.

He’d let himself forget, allowed himself to want too much and hope. Steve swallowed against the tightening feeling in his throat, he’d still have Robin, and Dustin of course. But this was always a temporary thing, and now that it was over…

‘Snap out of it,’ he thinks to himself in a voice that sounds, once again, eerily like Robin, ‘a pity party isn’t going to make any of this better. Just go home and go to bed, nothing good ever happens after 11:00PM’. He shakes himself roughly, though it turns into a full body shiver as a biting wind collides with him, sending Steve stumbling into a gravel patch, his shoe slides with the rocks pitching his legs forward and out from under him.

He careens to the asphalt, turning just in time to let his shoulder hit the ground first rather than his head --he didn’t need another concussion on top of everything else.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, the lump in his throat pulls on the single syllable, drawing it out into a moan.

Headlights from an oncoming truck on the other side of the highway illuminate his position on the road, Steve manages to roll to his knees, grimacing at the pinch of gravel that stick to his jeans and hands as he tries to stand. His ankle throbs, as does his shoulder from the impact.

“Harrington? Steve?” a familiar voice calls out, the car turns out to be Hopper’s pickup, the voice belongs to Hopper.

Hopper, who has exited the vehicle and approaches Steve from the side, slowly as one would a wild animal.

“You hurt kid?” Hopper asks, in a voice Steve would never have associated with the gruff man in a million years - and certainly not directed his way, it’s soft and gentle -- his El voice, his Will voice, Joyce calls it..

“No,” Steve mumbles brushing off his pants, releasing the dust and gravel that remained from his fall, “I’m good Hop,”

Hopper looks down the road, down in the direction of the Buyers house before he turns his attention back to Steve, his blue eyes scanning his face reminding Steve of just who he was talking to.

“Yeah,” Hopper sighs out, his moustache twitches as he quirks his mouth to the side, “normally I don’t appreciate someone lying to my face like that, but I think I’ll let it go for tonight, you look like you need a bit of a break, huh kid?”

Steve lowers his gaze to the ground before shrugging, he shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps his mouth firmly shut.

Hopper sighs again, for a moment Steve thinks he’ll turn around entirely, get back into the car and leave him there.

“Get in the truck Steve,” Hopper grunts at him as he steps forward to offer a large hand for Steve to take.

He grabs it reluctantly and slowly gets to his feet with a small hiss of pain, his ankle protests slightly from the strain.

Steve limps over to the passenger door, waving off Hopper as he tries to walk him around the vehicle, he's certainly had worse than road rash, this is nothing.

It's tense inside the vehicle as Steve shuts the door and buckles himself in, he brushes his hands against his dusty jeans and grimaces as additional gravel and grit comes away.

Hopper keeps glancing at him while Steve stares out the passenger window, his forehead placed against the cool glass.

“So," Hopper says after clearing his throat abruptly, "you wanna tell me why you left the kids early?”

“I didn’t leave them alone," Steve blurts out defensively, as he sits up properly, "Jonathan is there, and so is Eddie--”

“You’re not in trouble Steve, relax, I know you wouldn’t have just left them alone, you’re not that kind of kid".

“Not anymore,” Steve mutters quietly. He can feel eyes on him again but Steve tilts his head away once more to stare resolutely out the window, not daring to make eye contact.

Hopper turns his gaze back to the road, he seems to chew on the words he wants to say before thinking better of it.

Hopper clears his throat again, “Look, I’m not the best person to talk to about,” he gestures with one hand and a circular motion towards his chest, his other hand remains resolutely on the steering wheel, “feelings or hard shit like that but you know you can come to any one of us about what you’re going through alright?”

“Joyce is better at this,” Hopper says in that soft voice again, “but we’re here kid? I know you’re folks aren’t like that for you but we are, we can be, if you want?”

“It's fine Hop--”

“Is it Steve?" Hopper cuts across him, his voice climbs in volume, "The kids are worried about you, Wayne told us about the house--”

“That's none of your business," Steve hisses, horrified by the traitorous heat and painful sting behind his eyes, "and since when do you guys talk to each other?”

Hopper says nothing for a moment, but his large hands grip the steering wheel with white knuckles and Steve tries not to panic.

“So it's true then?” Hopper grinds out eventually, he shakes his head and Steve's stomach drops as shame curdles in his stomach.

“So what if it is?”

“Dammit Steve," Hopper shouts, throwing his right hand against the steering wheel with a crack, "Why haven’t you told anyone what is going on with you? What are you going to do if it sells?”

The crack of the hand against the steering wheel is the last straw, Steve grapples with his seatbelt buckle and pulls at the fabric running across his chest, it's too much.

“Let me out," Steve says harshly, "I’ll walk the rest of the way".

“What? No, what is the matter with you," Hopper's voice climbs even higher, "I’m trying to--”

But Steve isn’t listening any more, his heart pounds to the words, ‘Get-Out, Get-Out’, that resonate over and over inside his head, he unbuckles himself clumsily and flings open the door before jumping out.

Hopper, realizing what is happening, slows down just enough that the impact Steve's feet make against the pavement does nothing to slow his movement as he takes off down the residential road, once again putting his track skills to the test.

Steve ignores Hopper's voice as he throws himself down the sidewalk, one foot in front of the other, running like the devil and the gaping maw of Hell are hot on his heels.

Steve doesn’t look back.

He had never really liked the track team, or the sport that much, swimming and basketball had been easier to get into, easier to lose himself in the movement or the plays the coach would give them.

But track, running, always left his mind to wander, and that was never a good thing.

It was too much, the house, the nightmares, the kids were pulling away, Robin was busy with her own life, Nancy and Jonathan had come back together like nothing had ever happened, Eddie had healed and put himself back together so easily.

And Steve was stuck. In danger of being left behind if he wasn’t careful. It would happen again, just like his parents had abandoned him there in Hawkins, these people he had come to think of as family, would eventually leave him too.

There are tears pouring down his face by the time he stumbles home, his lungs burn and the ankle he had most certainly twisted could no longer support his full weight. He limps the rest of the way, nearly collapsing up the steps to his front door.

Steve pulls his keys out of his back pants pocket with shaking hands and bites down a sharp breath that catches wetly against his tongue. He runs his hand over his face, under his nose from his knuckle to the crook of his arm to catch all the snot and tears that had gathered there, pitiful, gross, get it together Harrington, he thinks lowly.

He shoves the key into the lock roughly and steps into the entryway before closing the door behind him and locking the deadbolt.

As the door closes, it’s as though the other shoe finally drops. The deadbolt slides into place, sealing the entryway behind him, and Steve Harrington falls apart.

Part Four - Final Part Up!

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season 4 au #eddie lives #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt steve harrington #bisexual steve harrington #steve harrington has trauma #let steve harrington cry #eddie munson is a sweetheart #stranger things fanfiction #afewproblems writes #part three #slowburn #steve x eddie #platonic soulmates stobin #robin buckley is a good friend

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chaotic-super · 1 year

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For Her Sake - Chapter 8

Read it on AO3 here!

Lena isn’t particularly comfortable as she perches on a cushion in front of the coffee table, Kara’s little girl sitting across from her, snuggling into her mom’s side as she looks over at her warily. She’s not completely sure if her discomfort is from the way she has to swing her legs to one side to comfortably accommodate herself onto the cushion or from the looks she’s getting from Lori though.

“This is really good, Alex, thank you.” Lena smiles politely, spooning more food into her mouth with an exaggerated mmm sound. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a homecooked meal and I have to admit that I’ve missed it.”

Kara, not wanting to go back into the awkward silence of before, jumps at the chance to keep the conversation going. “Really? How come?”

“I end up having a lot of lunch and dinner meetings with investors and board members to keep L-Corp running smoothly and while the food is good at the fancy restaurants I go to, it’s not a sustainable way for me to eat. It’s nice for a treat but those dishes are always tiny and I go home and end up throwing something into the oven quickly or ordering more food and it’s not very nutritious.” Lena explains. “Well, that and I can never be bothered to cook properly for myself on my very limited days off so I just order something. The most I’ll do is one of those meal kits you can have delivered and they send you the ingredients but even those are a rare occurrence.”

Kara smiles kindly over the table at her. “I get that, I used to eat really badly before I started living with Alex again. I had enough energy to set this little one up with something good and healthy but by the time it came to feeding myself, pizza became a staple to my diet, a veggie pizza if I was feeling particularly bad about myself that day.”

“That’s true,” Alex confirms, “but you were a new mother at the time while still working full-time and struggling to juggle your new lifestyle, you can’t exactly be blamed for that. You can, however, be blamed for never learning how to cook, you really need to let me teach you.”

Kara shakes her head. “No, I don’t, the last time you tried to teach me I burned my hand twice and accidentally cut myself trying to peel potatoes. I think I’ll leave it to the adults.”

“You are an adult, Kara.” Alex reminds her, rolling her eyes in jest. “You have a delightful little princess and you are the adult in adult supervision, I hate to break it to you.”

Kara’s eyes widen comically and a hand comes up to slap to her chest in mock horror. “Oh god, I’m an adult.” The ruse doesn’t last long and she breaks down into giggles, taking Alex down with her until they are both giggling across the table, beaming grins in place.

Lori sits between them smiling and giggling along too, not so much because she finds the joke funny but because she finds her mom’s laughing funny, especially when she accidentally lets out a little snort halfway through laughing.

Even Lena finds herself laughing at the sisters, a little baffled by the way they are so comfortable and light-hearted with each other, something she has never been with her brother, even when they were young they weren’t even half as close as these two women appear to be.

The three of them make a great little family unit and the more time she spends with them and the more insight she gets into their lives, the more she’s glad about her decision not to hand Kara over to the police.

Her initial instincts had been right, Kara was just a mother acting in what she believed to be in the best interest of her child and now Lena has no doubts about Kara’s intentions because the only intention she has is the intention to make the life of her child a happy one, that much is obvious.

“I think we all feel young at heart really, no matter how old we get,” Lena says once the giggles die down. “I still feel exactly how I did when I was seventeen and in boarding school.”

“Boarding school?” Alex smiles. “Now I know why you’re so fancy.”

Lena takes a sip of her wine, smirking behind the rim of her glass. “Believe me, there was nothing about that school that made me fancy, it probably had the opposite effect, that’s the place I got out all of my teenage rebellion.”

Alex looks at her incredulously. “You don’t exactly look like the type to have been a teenage rebel, what’s the most you did, a little weed here and there?”

“Not weed, no. I was more of a fan of spending as much time with the other girls in the school if you catch my drift. My mother still tries to cover it up to this day, she doesn’t like people to know that her precious baby girl was more than just a nerd in school.” Lena smiles.

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, a smirk adorning her face that matches Lena’s. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Out of the corner of Lena’s eye, she catches Lori tugging at her mom’s shirt and pulling her down so she can whisper something into her ear. Kara’s eyebrows start off furrowed but relax as Lori speaks, a tiny hand cupping around Kara’s ear as she does so.

Kara leans away once Lori has finished speaking, giving herself chance to think before she mirrors what Lori was doing earlier, leaning down and cupping around her daughter’s ear as she whispers back to her.

Lena isn’t sure what to do. She isn’t sure if she should try and join in with the whispering, call them out or ignore it. She looks to Alex to see what she’s doing and finds her watching the pair with rapt attention too.

After a moment, Lori looks up at Kara hesitantly but after a little nod and a smile, she gains enough confidence to stand up slowly. Kara then shuffles along to where Lori was sitting and swaps their plates and drinks over. Lori then takes Kara’s spot, now sitting between her mom and Lena, closer to her mom though.

She looks over at Lena as she sits on the cushion Kara just vacated and waves shyly. Lena doesn’t want to push her luck so she just puts on the warmest smile she knows how and waves back.

Lori then breaks the eye contact and picks up her fork again, spearing some of her food and nibbling at it like nothing ever happened, the hand closest to Kara wrapping around her shirt to make sure she’s not going anywhere.

Kara looks over the top of Lori’s head at Lena, grinning at her before leaning down to drop a kiss on the crown of Lori’s head.

They get back to eating, this time the conversation turning to the usual small talk, where they’re from and when they came to National City.

It’s comfortable and once they’ve finished eating, Kara heads to the kitchen to begin cleaning up. It’s only fair since technically, Alex cooked.

She carries the dishes to the sink and fills it up with hot, soapy water.

“Need some help?” Lena’s voice startles her a little and she ends up smacking the bubbles from the soap onto her shirt. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.”

Kara brushes it off quickly, “Don’t worry about it, with a kid Lori’s age, I should always be expecting the unexpected, she’s good at keeping me on my toes, that’s for sure.”

Lena glances back to the living room where Alex has Lori tucked into her side on the couch, reading her a story that she just requested from her bookshelf. “She’s something special.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Kara replies, her eyes completely filled with love as she stares at her daughter, completely enamoured by her. “Thanks for coming tonight and for, you know, everything else you’ve done. You really didn’t have to but you’ve dug us out of a metaphorical tonne of crap.”

“It was my pleasure,” Lena replies and she finds that she’s not lying, she is truly grateful to have been able to help this family, her self-worth climbing when she noticed that she was actually making a difference that she can see the results of. “You didn’t have to have me over so thank you, it’s been really nice, I don’t know if you can tell but a woman like me, all work and no play, I don’t have a lot of people in my life that are willing to spend time with me without trying to convince me to make some business deal with them so it’s been refreshing, I needed this, thank you.”

Kara shrugs and it makes her rolled-up sleeve slip down her arm. Lena’s hand shoots out to catch it before it reaches the water. “Thanks and you’re more than welcome, you can come over any time. You’re better company than I thought you’d be for someone with more money than they could ever spend.”

“I genuinely can’t tell if that’s a compliment.”

“It is, besides, you’ve got the Lori seal of approval anyway, she was whispering to tell me that she thinks you’re nice and pretty so she wanted to sit next to you. A couple more dinners and she’ll be all over you and using those adorable puppy-dog eyes of hers to guilt you into buying her a pony or something.”

Lena pauses, “would she like a pony?”

Kara’s eyes narrow. “Are you offering?”

“Maybe.”

“Start with drying the dishes, that’s all I’m asking of you.” Kara shakes her head, handing Lena a soggy plate with an amused smile. “I would like for you to come again though, I mean that.”

Lena ducks her head, her cheeks heating up. “I think I’ll be able to make that happen.”

“Good, now that we have that sorted, we just have to convince Alex to cook again.” Kara laughs, still scrubbing away at the dishes and setting them aside for Lena, who is carefully handling each plate like it’s made of the highest quality china rather than the cheapest option available at Walmart, and then stacking them to one side so Kara can tell her where to put them away once she’s finished washing up.

Lena clears her throat a little a minute later, “I actually have a favour to ask.”

“Anything,” Kara answers immediately, “whatever you need, Lena.”

“Could you come by my office at some point this week, my security team have actually got a few suspects they think might have been part of the group you were with and they have pictures, it would be great if you could come by and try to see if you can identify any of them.”

Kara nods, slow and thoughtful. “I can do that but I’m not sure how helpful I can be with that, I only ever saw the face of the guy at the hospital. I heard the voices of a couple of them though so if you can get recordings of some kind then I can try and identify them from that.”

Their voices are low and quiet and it makes Alex suspicious. “What are you two doing over there?”

Lena thinks quickly on her feet, an overwhelming need to protect Kara rising up in her for a reason she can’t comprehend. “We’re just scheming how to get you to cook for us again, any tips?”

“Wine,” Alex calls back, completely unfazed and accepting their answer right away since she has no reason to doubt them.

Lena waits a moment to be sure that Alex isn’t going to question them further. “Alright, I’ll see if my guys can get some recordings and then I’ll text you if that’s alright with you.”

“Sounds good to me.” Kara shrugs, “I do have a request though.”

“Go ahead.”

“Some of the people in the group weren’t good people, I know that but I spoke to someone when I first got out of the van, she seemed like she didn’t want to be there either and was just as desperate as me, if you find someone else like me, don’t turn them over, let them live as you did with me. I know that’s a lot to ask but I just…I was in a dark place and I know that I wasn’t the only one. I don’t know them personally so I’ll trust your judgement but if any of them are good people, spare them.”

Lena nods slowly. “I’ll have their backgrounds looked into. I’m not a malicious person, Kara. I let you go, not just because you were desperate but because I don’t think you will harm me, I can’t say the same for the others yet, if I get the same feeling with them as I have with you then I will spare them but I won’t put myself in danger.”

“And I would never ask you to put yourself in danger either, I know I don’t have the right to ask anything of you so thank you.”

“I think you need to stop thanking me.”

Kara shakes her head, finishing the dishes and pulling the plug out of the sink. “I’ll stop thanking you when I can repay you one day.”

Lena’s smile drops off her face. “I’m not doing this so you have to repay me or so I hold something over your head, Kara. I’m doing this because I want to and because your speech about me hoarding wealth and having the ability to do more than I am really got to me and it’s made me want to make some changes.”

Kara looks down at her feet. “My rant did that?”

“Yes, it did, once I had recovered from everything else that night anyway,” Lena confirms. “I’ve started setting up funds to pay for medical bills at the children’s hospital across town and I’ve been thinking about just buying it outright so I can make it a lot more accessible. That’s the legacy I want to leave behind when I’m gone, I don’t want to be just another overly wealthy person who clutches to their pennies while the world burns around them.”

The corners of Kara’s mouth twitch up, “I think that’s very honourable and if there’s anything I can do to help with that, I would like to offer up my services, not to repay you but because that’s an incredible thing to be doing.”

Lena smiles back at her. “Well, the whole hospital will need redecorating once I officially take over, any chance you know anything about interior design?”

“I’m no good at it when it comes to fancy office spaces but I am very good at making places kid-friendly.” Kara gestures to the apartment. “I’d be happy to help out with that.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be getting in touch with you about that when I both start and finish buying out the hospital then.” Lena’s eyes glisten with mirth and something else, something Kara can’t put her finger on, maybe happiness, maybe appreciation, maybe something in between.

Kara makes quick work of putting the dishes away, not letting Lena help anymore and instead banishing her over to the couch with Alex and Lori.

She joins them just a minute later and Lena clears her throat before smacking the tops of her thighs with her hands and then standing up. “Right, I’d better leave you guys in peace so you can rest up for work tomorrow.”

“Wait.” A little voice that Lena wasn’t expecting to hear pipes up. “Can you watch Hercules with me?”

Lena looks at the little girl giving her those puppy dog eyes that Kara warned her about earlier and she was right to prewarn her because how is she meant to say no to that adorable face?

“Lori, I’m sure Lena is busy and has things to do.” Kara gently breaks the news to her daughter.

“Right, and your mom probably wants to have some cuddle time with a certain someone,” Lena adds.

“But I can cuddle with Mama and watch Hercules with you at the same time.” Somehow, Lori’s lip juts out even further and Alex just sits back and watches as both Lena and Kara crack under the pressure of it.

Kara and Lena look to each other, their eyes meeting for a brief moment while they try to suppress their smiles. Neither is opposed to Lena staying, both are caught in a loop of Lena wanting to stay but not impose herself on them and Kara wanting Lena to stay but not wanting to monopolize the woman’s time when she wanted to leave just a moment ago.

Lena shrugs and Kara returns it.

Lori gets up and takes Lena by the hand, or rather, wraps her hand around Lena’s first two fingers and pulls her back down onto the couch. “Stay.”

“If you guys don’t mind?” Lena casts sideways glances at both Danvers sisters.

“Not at all.” Alex says, “I just hope you don’t mind if I let you guys start the movie without me, I need a shower.”

Lena turns to Kara.

“I don’t mind and Alex, go shower, we can smell you.”

Lori bursts out into a fit of giggles, overjoyed by the news of Lena staying and finding Kara’s jab at Alex funny too.

All three women soften at the sound of her laughter, there’s nothing about it that isn’t just downright angelic.

Lori sits beside Lena and pats the spot on the other side of her to get Kara to sit there.

“Hold on, Babygirl, I have to get your DVD,” Kara says, grabbing Lori’s favourite blanket from where it’s folded on a side table and draping it over her daughter. “You said Hercules, right?”

“Yes please, Mama.”

Kara is a little disappointed because she hasn’t seen or heard from Lena in over a week now. All she has heard are little stories and anecdotes from Alex about the times that Lena has dropped by the L-Corp building across town where Alex works and they aren’t usually all that thrilling.

She’s been waiting to hear from her about going into her office to see if she can identify anyone in the scheme she was involved in but she still hasn’t heard anything and messaging her first feels like she’s being invasive so she’s set on waiting for Lena to get in touch with her first.

Ever since that night though, all that is playing through her head is the mental snapshot she took of Lena and Lori sat together on the couch, Lena fast asleep, her head fallen to one side, her mouth fallen open slightly, and Lori snuggled into her side, fast asleep under Lena’s arm.

In that moment of seeing her daughter with Lena, all she’s been able to think about is that maybe she is now ready to move on from Mike and maybe she can finally focus on something she wants, a partner who can accept her and be willing to date someone with a child and be willing to be a positive part of that child’s life.

She isn’t thinking about Lena being that person, not totally anyway, just once or twice. Lena’s a very attractive person who has shown to have a very attractive personality but Kara knows she can’t go there because even if Lena did like her back, she’s still Alex’s boss and with what Lena did for her, there would be an unhealthy power imbalance in the relationship, a girl can dream though and dream she does.

More than once Kara has thought about asking Lena out for coffee or inviting her over again, perhaps just the two of them this time but she’s really conscious of the bigger picture and she’s not exactly in the best place, mentally or economically to be dating someone. It’s probably not a good time for her to be dating anyway because Lori is still dealing with the loss of her dad so someone coming in and assuming a parental role in her life is not optimal.

That doesn’t mean she can’t still be friends with Lena though. Even if Kara does have a silly little crush on the woman she attempted to kidnap and ransom for money, she has found that the woman has an incredible personality that meshes really well with her own and an affinity for snuggling with one particularly clingy child.

Kara sighs, dropping her phone onto the kitchen counter and refocusing her attention on her laptop screen. She still has work to do, Ms Grant has given her a list of jobs as long as her arm and if she doesn’t have them done by tomorrow then she’s going to spend at least the next two weeks feeling the sharp scorch of her boss’ glare on the side of her head.

Her feet spread wide to lower down to the level of the countertop, no chairs in this part of the apartment, Kara stares at the list she’s written, the words nothing but squiggles since she can’t focus even with her mind yelling at her to get to work and get it done.

“Focus, Kara.” She mumbles to herself only to get interrupted by the incessant buzzing of her phone. At first, she thinks it must be a string of messages, probably from the group chat with her, Alex, Winn and James, her other friend from work, but it quickly becomes obvious that isn’t the case and that her phone is ringing, vibrating against the countertop until she answers.

She gets a peek at the name before she slides her finger across the screen to pick up the call and her heart stops for a second when she sees who’s calling her.

“Hey, Lena, how are you?” She tries to keep her voice as light and as casual as she can to not give herself away for how nervous she actually is to be talking to her again. She’s actually also kind of worried that Lena freaked out from waking up with a child in her personal space because she left mighty fast when she realized where she was.

Lena doesn’t sound freaked out when she speaks now though. “Hey, Kara. I’m sorry it’s taken a while for me to get back to you. I’ve been working with my team to try and get voice recordings for you to listen to but they are struggling a little bit. I was actually calling because I wanted to let you know that I’m officially going to purchase the hospital. I was a little on the fence about it when I came over but you convinced me so I wanted to thank you and also ask if you would be up for grabbing a drink or two with me tonight in celebration if Alex doesn’t mind watching Lori for you.”

“I’m really glad to hear that about the hospital, I’m sure you’re going to do great things. You don’t have to thank me, in fact, I should be thanking you, you’re going to do so much good in that place, I just know it.” Kara’s heart thuds in her chest and she’s internally squealing. Lena wants to take her out for drinks. She needs to calm down, it’s not a date and even if it was, it can’t work. She chants that in her head, reminding herself over and over again that it can’t work out. “Give me two seconds to see if Alex is up to it.”

“Take your time,” Lena replies, patiently waiting for Kara’s response.

Kara puts herself on mute for a second and closes the lid of her laptop, she can always work into the night to get her work done, who needs sleep anyway? “Hey, Alex?”

“What?” Alex asks from her sprawled position on the couch, lying on her back, one arm under her hand and the other one wrapped around Lori as she naps on top of her.

“Lena just called, she asked if I want to get a couple of drinks with her so would you mind watching Lori for a couple of hours for me?”

Alex’s eyes narrow. “You’re going to go and get drinks with Lena? Like a date?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s celebratory, she’s decided to buy the children’s hospital and she wants to thank me because I kind of convinced her to do it when she came over for dinner before.”

“Do you want it to be a date?” Alex fixes her with a long stare, the kind she knows Kara hates because she always ends up giving in and telling her whatever she wants to know because it makes her uncomfortable.

Kara’s cheeks flush. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Tell that to crinkle.” Alex smirks, pointing to the spot on Kara’s forehead where she now has a little crease between her eyes, “you do want to go on a date with Lena. I say go for it, she has enough money that if you get married, we would never have to work again.”

“Alex!” Kara whisper shouts, not wanting to wake Lori up. “You’re impossible to talk to when you’re in this kind of mood.”

“That’s the aim. Go and have a couple of drinks, maybe propose to Lena while you’re there, and see where the night leads you, you might have a wife by morning.”

Kara just shakes her head and turns away from her. “Whatever.” She heads back to where she left her phone beside her laptop and picks it back up, unmuting it and speaking. “Hey, Lena, you there?”

“I’m here.”

“Alex is cool to look after the kiddo, where shall I meet you?”

There’s a brief moment of pause before Lena responds, “I’m actually just on my way home now so if you’re ok with it, I can just pick you up and we head to my place and then I’ll get you a cab home in a little while.”

“Sounds good to me, how long will you be? I’ll have to get changed, I came home from work and fell into my comfiest pair of sweats so not really celebratory attire.” Kara smiles, kind of glad that she won’t have to meet Lena at some bar somewhere they will have to yell over loud music just to be able to hear each other speak.

“Don’t bother, if you’re wearing sweats then I won’t be embarrassed when we get to my place and I immediately also fall into my sweats. These suits might look cool but they aren’t all that comfortable. I’ll be there super soon, I’m like halfway there from L-Corp now and there’s practically no traffic out today, a true miracle if I’ve ever seen one.”

It clicks for Kara that Lena must be using a hands-free device while driving and it makes sense now why she can hear a faint echo of her own voice through the speaker, she can hear the feedback from Lena having her on speakerphone. “Alright, can you text me when you’re here? I just want to get Lori to bed before you get here, she’s fallen asleep atop of Alex.”

“No problem, I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

“Bye.”

Kara’s eyes are wide as she ends the call. She’s just gone from moping because she hadn’t heard from Lena in a while to suddenly having no time to prepare as the woman calls to tell her she’s on her way and they are going to spend some time together drinking, this is insane and she really hopes Lena has some decent alcohol because that’s the only way she’s going to be coherent enough to handle a conversation with her one on one in her place. It doesn’t take much power of deduction to gather that Lena’s place is probably super fancy too so she’s going to be afraid to touch anything for fear of accidentally damaging it.

Since she doesn’t have much time, she nips into the bathroom to quickly tidy herself up and add a little more deodorant on before she heads back to Alex. “Here, let me put her to bed. You should join her actually, you look half asleep already.”

“I am and I’ll probably take you up on that soon. Where are you headed out to so I know where to send the cops if you’re not back in a few hours?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Lena’s picking me up and then we’re going to her place. I’ll text you when I get in the cab to come home, I won’t be back too late, it is a school night after all.”

Alex’s eyebrows wiggle at her. “Ooh la la, going to her place already, be sure to count how many Fabergé eggs she has displayed for me.”

“Shut your face and hand me my little princess.” Kara holds her arms out ready for Alex to gently pass over the sleeping girl.

Kara carries her to the bed as carefully as she can, doing her best not to jolt her so she doesn’t wake her up and taking a few seconds to look over her face, marvelling in the soft lines that make up the beauty that she holds, completely and utterly enamoured by the wonderful little creature she’s created.

She sets her down beneath the covers and presses a kiss to her forehead before tucking the sheets in around her a little more closely. “I love you, sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite.” She whispers.

“I love you, Mama.” Lori just barely stirs enough to say, turning over and facing away from Kara right after, promptly falling back asleep.

Kara’s heart warms and she wanders back to the couch where Alex is still lying. “God, I love that kid.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Alex smiles, peeking up over the back of the couch to look over at the bed. “Have fun tonight though, Kara. You really deserve to let your hair down a little bit, you haven’t had a proper rest in months so you need to take it now while you can.”

“I know. I’m going to.” Kara leans over the back of the couch to press her lips to the top of Alex’s head in a similar fashion to the way she did with Lori. “Call me if you need me though.”

“I will.” Alex hears Kara’s phone vibrate against the counter, the sound obvious in the otherwise silent apartment. “Sounds like that’s your cue.”

“Ok, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Kara grabs her phone and sure enough, there’s a text from Lena telling her that she’s right outside. Kara quickly stiffs her feet into a discarded pair of Converse and heads downstairs to find Lena waiting right out front of the building in her car.

She knocks on the passenger side window gently before opening the door. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Lena smiles, “come on in, I have a bottle of wine or two waiting for us back at my place that has been screaming my name all day.”

“I thought we were celebrating not drinking away our sorrows, did you have a bad day?”

“Something like that, just busy and stressful but I still want to celebrate and if you’re up for it, take you up on your offer to help out a little when I’m the new official owner in a few months.” Lena starts driving once Kara’s seatbelt is clicked into place.

“Totally, you don’t have to ask me twice.” Kara’s lips quirk up, excited by the very prospect of it. “I appreciate you letting me help.”

Lena chuckles a little bit, “Please, I’m asking you to take work off my plate, it’s hardly something you should be thanking me for.

“Good work doesn’t feel like work though.” Kara smiles.

Lena huffs. “Then I’m in the wrong line of work.”

“Maybe you are but I’m not judging, I’m in the wrong line of work too, maybe one day we can change that.” Kara means it to be a joke but she can’t keep the lingering lilt of hope out of her voice.

“Maybe so,” Lena says, her voice quiet and contemplative.

They take the rest of the drive in comfortable silence, both thinking about what they would like to change in their lives.

Kara waits on the couch in Lena’s living room. She’s terrified of dripping the red wine out of her glass onto the white couch or the white carpet or the white blankets or the white table or the white cushions or anything at all in the penthouse apartment.

Every time she brings the glass to her lips, she does so slowly and opens her mouth wide to make sure she doesn’t drip it down her chin and then onto anything else before she places the glass back down onto the coffee table.

Lena excused herself a few minutes ago to go and get changed so Kara is entertaining herself by scrolling through her phone, a terrible move because Lena comes wandering in, her nose also in her phone, so she doesn’t take stock of where Kara is sitting, going to sit down in the end spot where she usually parks her ass and ends up sitting right on top of her.

Kara lets out a little surprised yelp but her arms automatically come out to catch Lena the best she can so they end up with Lena sitting sideways across Kara’s lap with Kara wrapping her into a half-hug.

“I’m so sorry!” Lena’s eyes are wide and frantic. “I should have looked where I was going.”

Kara giggles. “Don’t worry about it, maybe next time just ask if you want to sit on my lap though, you don’t have to go through the theatrics.”

“Don’t be mean, Kara Danvers.” Lena points an accusing finger at her, standing up and smoothing out her own sweats like she’s still wearing a fancy, expensive suit worth more than everything Kara owns combined.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Ms Luthor.”

For early access to chapters of all of my fics, click here!

#cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supercorp #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #kara x lena #kara danvers #kara zor el #lena luthor #single parent au #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #chaoticsuper

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sinkableruby · 10 months

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owarimonogatari ge spoilers. rgu spoilers too i think

himemiya anthy and oshino ougi are both girls who exist for guys

and yeah i hear you thinking what, misogyny ?! toxic masculinity ?! thats not a big part of ougis arc and yeah it isnt and also other gender stuff BUT. the spirit is still there!! and i have to say it in that way first to do anthy's part justice

bc they Are both people who exist solely for others sake. their ability to define their own existences have been taken away from them. they have no agency! anthy obviously but also ougi has never had agency. ougi was created by araragi to do certain things he couldn't do himself, and this was literally the sole purpose of their existence. if ur in that situation what are you gonna do? not do it? and probably like, cease to exist bc the universe's internal coding is a total asshole? you don't have a choice, you just gotta accept the burden.

they're very silly and goofy and sinister and smiley about it of course but like. i'll say it now a lot of those smiles are not happy. i mean you look at the light novels oshino "ppl are so dumb i have to laugh at them but im crying when im laughing" ougi (edgelord ougi confirmed? LOL ok ok not really) oshino 'araragi theorizes her smile was poignant bc she knew how short her life would be' ougi like yeah ok. get a life, literally. lol (note this is also. for those who have read it. what ougi stay is about. and what my next big thing is going to be about. this is what the significance. anyway)

and anthy does the same thing! all this fucked up shit happens around her and To her and she just watches it all with the same smile like nothing's wrong. the parallels are insane you guys you cant make this shit up. anthy smiling like nothing is wrong during the duels before slowly realizing she doesn't want to be separated from utena is the same as ougi smiling while about to be erased forever even though she doesnt want to die. its parallels!!!!!! even where ougi's situation gets a little muddied with her being Literally araragi (even though she is still the part of him that he ejected and pushed all this work onto and still just exists for him at first so i wouldnt say this is a point against my analysis here), it still very much applies. and that part of 'being him' can loop back around and extend anthy if you want it to. she does whatever her fiancee wants her to, is molded to and reflects them. a reflection-- is that not, in a very big sense, what ougi is for araragi? you could even say that for anthy, the fiancee of the rose bride's attempted domination of her is a way to dominate the femininity within them, to quell and control it. (if this doesnt make sense my excuse is that i havent finished watching yet. but i think it does make sense, and a lot of it, actually)

theyve both got their Roles to play, and play them they do. anthy, the rose bride, and ougi, the culprit, the bad guy. i think about that 'bad guy' framing a lot too btw. when ougi is talking about her unfazed appearance when faced with Forever Death Via Black Hole, shes like 'don't you hate it when in mystery novels the bad guy is so calm in the face of their comeuppance? yeah that sucks so just letting you know im terrified 👍. gotta wonder what happens when your matter gets erased completely yk. like whats that gotta be like lol.' (not even exaggerating at all really) (also shes so funny she relates everything to mystery novels bc she loves them thats so sweet and real i love that :)) (and then she proceeded to say 'nah i think the culprit should kill themself instead' but i wont get into it)

theyve also both got those cute little interests come to think of it. anthy loves like animals and stuff and ougi loves their mysteries. are these two the Same Character (joking) (but really they should hang out)

theres a line in one of the short stories that summarizes it really well, describing ougi as 'a puppet who had come to life.' and yeah, basically. it's implied to be after the ougi dark resolution so there i have even more ✨textual evidence✨ but like fr. its an incredibly apt description for ougi. if yotsugi is a doll, then ougi is a puppet, who has gained agency (and thats the thing, rgu and monogatari are giving these agency-robbed characters agency, thats what ougi dark did, and im like p sure thats what rgu is going to do i havent finished it lol but i did get sorta spoiled on the ending so i think its gonna. in monogatari... its more rocky i feel. its not cut and dry, its not like whoops you have agency forever completely now. its like you Kinda have it. you Maybe Mostly have it. it's complicated i'm writing about it)... i wonder when yotsugi will get her agency, but part of me wonders if nisioisins plan is that she wont. because she's a doll, she's too stuck, she's fixed to what others need her for, she can't work by herself. she hasn't "come to life" yet like ougi has (being a corpse might do that to you)

anyway uhhhh i'm right good night

#really i think it makes quite a lot of sense #monogatari #owarimonogatari ge #rgu #but you know #maybe i posted nothing #(no i didnt i posted everything. bc its everything to me)#smash that subscribe button and let me know your thoughts in the comments down below #oshino ougi #himemiya anthy #ononoki yotsugi #ougiposting #this is also what i meant by that evil pixie nightmare girl post #for the record. if you even care.#analysis

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burning-fcols · 3 months

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“I don’t know why you’re acting like such a brat. You broke up with me remember?” Al @ vox for the exes AU - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ʜᴇʟʟᴜᴠᴀxʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Oh this mother FUCKER.

Vox can barely keep from blowing a fuse as blame is placed solely on his shoulders. As if HE'S the one who set their demise into motion. Technically, one could claim it is the television’s fault. He was the mastermind behind the idea that Alastor firmly stomped to death beneath his gross hooves. But that was unprecedented! It should have been a done deal, an unspoken contract between the two. They were partners for fuck’s sake! How was Vox supposed to anticipate that Alastor would turn down an offer to join his alliance?

He's usually good at predicting what people will do. Controlling them as he sees fit, be it through force or old-fashioned manipulation... But Alastor had thrown him off-guard, as the deer often does. What is usually an intoxicating thrill twisted into something unsavory, nowadays. Tainted by the past, yet still tinged with a ❛ secret ❜ longing that Vox desperately tries to veil with anger.

They were already intertwined thanks to their relationship— a far stronger link than Vox has with those engaged in solely ❛ business ❜ affairs, the Overlord somewhat biased when dealing with personal matters ( a weakness he knows he should get under control ) —so dealing in matters of business shouldn’t have been such a source of conflict. It only made sense. Hell, Vox was being generous in trying to include his boyfriend in the empire he was constructing! An empire that Alastor could and SHOULD have helped immensely with.

Isn’t that what a good partner does? Help the person they love?

❝ ᴬᴺᴰ ᵂᴴᴼˢᴱ ᶠᴬᵁᴸᵀ ᴵˢ ᵀᴴᴬᵀ, ᴬˢˢᴴᴼᴸᴱ?! ❞ He snaps, electricity cracking his words and sparking across his outraged screen. Fixated upon Alastor with glowing eyes— as he often is whenever the other is in view —an accusatory finger points at the deer, ❝ YOU'RE the one who treated our relationship like it was nothing! ❞ A step is taken forward, Vox unable to even consider getting himself under control. Painfully aware that this show of emotion is not helping his standing with his ex the other Overlord, voice distorts as it raises in volume, ❝ I gave you the offer of a lifetime— a deal other demons would KILL for —because I cared about you! And what did you do? You refused! You acted like it was a joke! Like I was a fucking JOKE! ❞

Perhaps he's exaggerating, memory distorted by the unexpected blow to his pride. The lingering shame at having acted so rashly as a result. Lashing out to try and gain some semblance of control in the situation. Over ALASTOR; a man who had captured his interest because of his untamable nature. Yet in the heat of rejection— however minor it could seem to the Radio Demon —Vox had destroyed one of the things perceived as a threat. Something that could and had unintentionally hurt him.

❝ And THEN as if that wasn't bad enough, when I broke things off— you just LET me! ❞ Voice breaks as it switches from infuriated to disbelieving, hands raised in front of himself in a subconscious plea to understand, ❝ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ FUCK ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ?? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Vox IC 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʙʀᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴡ ᴅᴀᴡɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Vox 」#helluvaxhazbin #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Alastor 」#♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʀᴇᴡɪɴᴅ; ᴡᴇ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜰᴀʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Vox and Alastor 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

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literary-illuminati · 2 years

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Books I Read in May

(Because I’m trying to get back on this wagon after missing April.)

18. The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee

This is probably not my favourite piece of pop science writing, but it’s really got to be up there. The history of how cancer’s been understood and treated through the last century is just absolutely morbidly fascinating (my roommate has placed a moratorium on any unsolicited ‘fun facts’ since I started reading this book).

But beyond a) an incredibly visceral understanding of what Leukemia is and b) an appreciation for the public health advances of the early/mid-20th century, my main takeaway was that the book was actually just weirdly hopeful? Like, compared to, well, everything (except consumer electronics) the degree to which cancer treatment’s have actually just kept getting better over the last decades gives you back a bit of the old faith in Progress.

Also just both very readable and downright poetic at points (and just. Incredible title.)

19. Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki

Hugo nominee novel number 2!

I was, honestly, not particularly impressed. Like it’s not bad – really extremely readable, really – but just, eh? 6/10.

It was above all just so very sentimental – believe in yourself! Love conquers all! Happy endings for absolutely everyone! Good bread tastes like home, even if you’re an alien! - which I suppose I’m just allergic to, and so will restrain myself about because it’s just a matter of taste.

Katrina was a good protagonist, entertaining internal monologue, well executed if incredibly predictable arc. But Shizuka and Lan...for the sheer amount of the book their romance took up, it still felt like the romance subplot thrown in as an afterthought in some blockbuster? They fell in love at first sight because the story tells us they do, and then they spend a bunch of scenes together, so clearly they’re a love for the ages! Never mind the palpable lack of chemistry or real connection between them. (And the less said about the rest of Lan’s family the better, character-wise. Though I mean Shirley was just an embodied cliche but it’s a cliche I like so she gets half-credit).

And yeah I could bitch about this book for ages but that just seems meanspirited (also I already spent like two hours doing so with @toasthaste) so. The evil violin repairwoman was fun?

20. She Who Became The Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

Hugo nominee novel number 3!

Or, as the friend who lent me it described it, ‘the one with the lesbian fisting in it’. (This wasn’t an exaggeration. Despite the jokes I was not expecting to get a scene of, like, actual porn 300 pages in.)

Anyway, no, this was good! ‘Low fantasy/mythologized retelling of actual historical events’ is a conceit I really love when it’s pulled off well, and Parker-Chan absolutely pulls it off well. Even if ‘If Anyone Finds Out I’m A Girl I Won’t Be Able To Found The Ming Dynasty!” sounds like something an automatic light novel series generator would split out.

Though really at least half the book’s best scenes are the whole revenge melodrama going on with the Mongol prince and general whose names I’m blanking on and aren’t mentioned in the Wikipedia article or goodreads summary. Just gloriously operatically angst-filled self-loathing and obliviousness and killing the only man you love for the sake of vengeance.

Not that Zhang as a protagonist isn’t great, too. I mean partially I just love the whole trope of ‘scheming, manipulative bastard constantly working every angle they can, who hides it all under an act of humble piety/devotion/loyalty and pretending all their successes are just luck/providence/divine favour, and no one’s quite sure how full of shit they are”. But also, you know, got to love any hero dedicated enough to making their own destiny and carving their own place in the world that they just straight-up murder the ten-year-old messiah to make sure there’s no competition at the top.

21. Hero of Two Worlds May: The Marquis de Lafayette in the Age of Revolution by Mike Duncan

Possibly the most middle-class-American-dad-ish book I will ever read (unless I ever get really into WW2, I guess?). Before reading it I had essentially zero interest in the Marquis de Lafayette in particular, but I really like the Revolutions podcast, and I do love reading about the French Revolution, so.

Honestly after reading the book I’m still not particularly interested in the Marquis de Layfayette – beyond a grudging respect for not changing his political opinions one iota after losing control of the revolution and spending four years in an Austrian dungeon after fleeing the country ahead of the tribunal, I suppose – and on the whole I found the book a lot less interesting than The Storm Before The Storm. Though that’s probably mostly just because I went in already knowing a lot more about the Age of Revolution than I did about the Late Roman Republic. (I did learn a bunch of military minutia about the American Revolution that I assume Americans all get taught in elementary school).

Probably because of that, by far the best parts of the book (imo) were the ones describing life in the Ancien Regime and post-Restoration. The latter, especially – the whole early 19th century milieu of revolutionary secret societies forcibly suppressed by foreign arms is just worldbuilding inspiration catnip, really.

The whole thesis of the early French Revolution section (and it’s repeated often enough that I’m pretty comfortable calling it that) about how the ‘salon revolutionaries’ were only ever able to extract reforms and concessions from the King by using the energy and threat of the angry mobs on the streets and the direct, violent, insurrectionary actions does have a certain unsubtle subtext, also.

22. A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

Hugo nominee novella number 2!

A book I would not have picked up on my own, honestly – three Wayfarers books have taught me quite clearly that Chambers is not for me, no matter how much normal people seem to love her – but she got nominated twice this year, and a friend already had this borrowed from the library.

I think the best way I can describe this is ‘a solarpunk art book, in prose form’. Like, there’s (exactly two) characters and (ostensibly) a plot, and there are themes (my god does the book want to make sure you know there are themes), but, like, in terms of wordcount and detail and enthusiasm, the animating passion is pretty clearly just detailing the society and physical infrastructure and general feel of day-to-day life in the post-post-apocalyptic solarpunk future. And that’s really very well done! It’s a good prose art book! Personally I don’t really care for the whole rural idyll pastoral aesthetic and the whole implicit ‘life being too easy is bad, actually’ thing, but, like, totally see the appeal.

23. Machinehood by S.B. Divya

And Hugo nominee novel number 3!

This was a slightly odd reading experience, honestly. Like, the best way I can put it is, like, some airport fiction technothriller (Robert Ludlum or whoever) except set a bit farther in the future and also woke? Not, like, didactically so or anything, but the genre and plot formula make it more surprising that the supportive CIA handler is a trans guy or one of the sympathetic showboating mercs/bodyguards is nonbinary or whatever. Or, like, the combat cyborg protagonist whose entire squad got killed in a black ops mission into ScaryMuslimLand when the President pulled the rug out from under them is an atheist latina woman and it’s her (male) partner that is constantly nagging her about staying safe and starting a peaceful life together somewhere new, and etc. Not a complaint about the book in any way, honestly, just really struck me reading it.

But weird politics aside, it was a fun read! The worldbuilding was actually pretty great – near future and familiar enough to seem plausible-ish, but still really alien, and still feeling, like, genuinely future-ish? Also it wove it’s weird supertech politics into a legacy/context of, like, actual modern politics, which I appreciated.

It helps that it’s my favourite sort of future – better than the present in a thousand different ways, but with horrifically dystopian touches here and there that everyone’s long since just shrugged and accepted, and also still just weighed down with the shittiness of life under exploitation and scarcity but, like, somewhat ameliorated. (But really, ‘everyone has access to biotech labs in their kitchens! Which is good, because you need to download the specifications the ministry of health puts up for your daily booster every morning to keep up with all the engineered superbugs” is just a great bit of worldbuilding imo).

Honestly my main actual complaint is that – for all the entire plot of the book is centred around paranoia about the emergence of strong/free-willed AI, and the bad guys treat the bots aboard their space station as persons, it’s just...never really clarified how those bots feel about it/if they feel anything or are too limited to care at all? Like, this is important!

Still, fun read.

#book review #analysis/review #Monthly Tally #the Emperor of All Maladies #siddhartha mukherjee #light from uncommon stars #ryka aoki #she who became the sun #Shelley Parker-Chan #a psalm for the wild built #becky chambers #Hero of Two Worlds #Mike Duncan #Machinehood #S. B. Divya

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marley-manson · 2 years

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4, 5, 9, and 11? I mean, I know your answer to 4 but I love hearing your thoughts on it

Thank you!

BJ or Trapper (for Hawkeye but also in general) (and lol tyvm <3)

under a cut bc it got long ofc lol, and I’m a little hard on BJ here so it’s easily skippable for anyone who wants to avoid that

Trapper, both for Hawkeye and in general.

So like, in general I just vibe with Trapper more. I got into Mash for the fun gay vibes and for me Trapper delivers on those way more than BJ does, not just because he was the costar of the most homoerotic seasons and I think he has better chemistry with Hawkeye, but also because it’s so much easier to headcanon Trapper as meaning the jokes to an extent, whereas it’s impossible for me to read most of BJ’s gay jokes as anything but jokes, the punchline being ‘lol gay.’

The problem with BJ is he’s too heteronormative for me - almost pointedly so. Trapper was a product of the sexual revolution and the satirical look at the 50s through a cynical 70s lens. He’s deviant - he’s a proud cheater, he’s unpatriotic, he enjoys subverting authority with Hawkeye, he’s not as effeminate as Hawkeye but he’s not defensive of his masculinity, and of course he loves the gay jokes almost as much as Hawkeye. Even if he’s intended to be straight as an arrow, there’s still an extent to which he canonically means the jokes, and that extent is “I would rather be seen as gay and deviant than as military and conformist.” And that’s already pretty great on its own for the time, but it’s also so easy to take that and run headlong into a nearly openly bi reading.

BJ, conversely, is a product of the show’s choice to drop some of the exaggerated satire, and he’s a typical 50s family man thrown into a horrible situation for the sake of exploring the effect of a war zone on this sort of 50s archetype. Before we even see him Margaret and Frank introduce him to us through their admiration of his background. He’s pointedly unresponsive to Hawkeye fishing to see if he’ll be another partner in womanizing (and lbr here, gay sex) during their conversation at the airport bar. He’s practically defined by his idealized heterosexual marriage.

Throughout BJ’s first few seasons he’s kind of the straight man, pun extremely intended. In addition to being married and faithful, he’s distinctly heteronormative in a way that comes across as awkward sometimes compared to Hawkeye’s total comfort with the gay and gnc jokes. “We’ll go dancing,” “I lead.” / “What threw you off, the beard?” “No, the machine gun.” / “Have you ever considered the foot?” “I prefer girls.” / “Have I ever told you you look cute with your shirt off?” “[irritated at being interrupted] No!” “I think I know why.” / “We are not guys.” “I thought I was.” etc etc. It’s also quite noticeable how in season 4 Hawkeye’s gay jokes come out mainly in scenes with Klinger rather than BJ.

That’s not to say BJ and Hawkeye don’t have some fun homoerotic rapport despite these more awkward moments, they definitely do, but it’s a lot sparser than Hawk and Trapper, and again thanks to BJ’s happily married heteronormative state I can’t headcanon him as meaning them. They feel perfunctory. And again to be fair Trapper had the occasional no-homo-esque joke himself, but thanks to the overarching atmosphere it’s so easy to headcanon those as Trapper being slightly more cautious than Hawkeye, rather than in denial or straight.

Also incidentally like, a lot of what people point to as BJ’s lack of heteronormativity in later seasons, like... hand gestures or the way he says some lines or whatever, doesn’t matter to me at all lol. A big reason I enjoy Hawkeye’s effeminacy is because it was a deliberate way of marking him as subversive, it was emphasized as a counterpoint to the masculine military and also framed as cool and likeable. That framing is almost entirely gone in the later seasons, so consequently I just don’t care if Mike Farrell delivers the occasional line with a little extra bitchiness lol, it’s meaningless to me. I get why other people are into it and I respect that, but I can’t enjoy stuff divorced from narrative framing, it’s always a significant factor for me. BJ being the het wife guy >>> BJ crossing his legs sometimes.

I can and do headcanon BJ as being gay or bi and repressed, but that feels so much more like reading against the text than headcanoning that Hawkeye and Trapper are fucking between scenes. It takes more work, and for me it’s less constantly rewarding.

ANYWAY lol I also have other reasons for preferring Trapper generally, like finding Wayne Rogers funnier, or certain traits of BJ’s being very grating on a personal level (like his passive aggression is irrationally offputting to me, I had to peace out of my Joker is Wild rewatch because every word out of BJ’s mouth was making me see red lmao), but like a good 60% of my feelings about this show are rooted in the homoeroticism and that’s what I wanted to talk about.

As for Trapper being better for Hawkeye than BJ, it just seems self-evident to me lol, like part of the basic point of BJ and Hawkeye’s friendship is that BJ’s flaws often affect Hawkeye negatively, it’s an element of their relationship that the show explores a lot, up to dedicating like a third of the finale to it.

And it’s interesting, good writing and it’s the biggest reason that I still ship them to an extent, because I like relationships with big flaws. But yk, it kinda sucks for Hawkeye lol.

He and Trapper fought a few times but it was always equal-opportunity, both of them bitching at each other and escalating pretty evenly. Even the Mail Call moment when Trapper tries to leave and knocks Hawkeye out of the doorway happened after Hawkeye threatened Trapper. Plus their conflicts tended to be brief and quickly resolved because they hate not being on the same side.

On the other hand BJ has several episodes where he just one-sidedly torments Hawkeye for fun, like Dear Uncle Abdul, Bottom’s Up, or Joker is Wild, in ways that genuinely upset Hawkeye. Like on my first watch I assumed Joker is Wild would end with Hawkeye being impressed by BJ and laughing it off yk? But instead he just seems exhausted and exasperated, and it gives this, and the other episodes which also feel similar, a surprisingly mean vibe.

Even in Lend a Hand, where BJ’s scheme of pretending it’s Hawkeye’s birthday was pretty minor and harmless, Hawkeye hates it. And his “I seem to be the object of some sort of conspiracy, so naturally I thought of you,” there indicates that this is a pretty regular thing outside of just these episodes too.

Then there’s the way Trapper always supports Hawkeye’s campaigns, both useful and futile. He’s there with him every step of the way - Hawkeye needs a boot, Trapper asks what “we’re” going to do about it. Hawkeye wants ribs from Chicago, Trapper helps him get them. Hawkeye hates a propagandist for glorifying the war, Trapper helps him ruin his movie.

imo this is where BJ falls the most short, and it’s clearly a deliberately written aspect of his character. Like compare Yankee Doodle Doctor to Blood and Guts; Adam’s Ribs to Depressing News; House Arrest to The Grim Reaper. BJ is pointedly checked out and unwilling to engage with Hawkeye’s problems. He’ll engage when there’s a clear reachable goal (eg Souvenirs) but he won’t just support Hawkeye, in fact he seems almost morally opposed to encouraging him.

You could argue that that’s actually better for Hawkeye, yk maybe enabling him is bad, but like, I would never ever agree with that lol, partly because Hawkeye’s campaigns are awesome and entertaining, partly because politically and philosophically I’m 100% with him too, and partly because I think taking action to express his feelings is extremely important to Hawkeye, whether it works or not. BJ sipping a martini while telling him he’s fucked, or telling him his monument is pointless, or calling him Don Quixote, or tuning out his upset ranting while working on a motorcycle, etc etc, never actually helps in any way. It doesn’t discourage Hawkeye or stop him from taking risks, it just leaves him on his own. If he’s trying to protect Hawkeye it doesn’t work, and it never feels like he’s concerned about Hawkeye potentially facing consequences to me - he mainly just seems affronted by his “irrational” attitude - something he frequently and explicitly derides.

Finally, while I don’t take Trapper’s no note, no contact departure at face value since it was a forced writing decision on account of Wayne Rogers’ departure with 0 characterization work behind it, I think even taking that into consideration he still comes across better than BJ overall. I mean BJ’s first finale departure was actively worse in every way lol, it’s only by chance that he got a redo, and he even spent most of the redo refusing to engage with Hawkeye’s feelings. The goodbye rocks come across as a pretty feeble gesture to me after just the finale events, let alone the rest of their relationship.

SO yeah. I don’t think BJ is like a terrible person or anything, he has plenty of episodes and scenes where he’s a great friend to Hawkeye. But his flaws in particular clash badly with what Hawkeye wants and needs, and they come up quite a lot in the last few seasons of the show especially so they really stand out to me, especially in contrast to how much Hawkeye supports BJ. Like to me the most apt illustration of BJ and Hawkeye’s relationship is Hawkeye handing BJ tools while BJ fixes his motorcycle and ignores him. Or Hawkeye comforting BJ with a black eye. Or the way he comes back to the Swamp in Picture This because Margaret lied about BJ needing his support, versus BJ allowing him back to piss off Charles. I find that there’s a stark unevenness to their relationship, compared to Hawkeye and Trapper giving off a much more equally supportive vibe.

(And I’m actually going to answer the other questions in another post so they’re not buried at the end of this long ass rambly essay. Sorry this took so long to respond to, but hopefully you can see why lol.)

#ask meme #marley on mash #ship hb #bj mash #trapper mash #mash #mash gs

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maschotch · 2 years

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unpopular opinion- rossi gets more hate than jj and jj deserves it way more than rossi

hmm i tentatively agree with this. rossi has a lot of problems of his own: he’s played by a horrible actor, his mob/military background is boring as shit, he’s a misogynist (he’s gotten better but im p sure thats just him getting milder in his old age) and oh yeah he’s fucking racist aljdlajd so its hard for me to straight up say he doesnt deserve the hate he gets

that being said i feel like people arent necessarily mad at him for the right reasons? like i barely hear anyone talk ab any of the above, mostly its that he’s just mean to reid. which… i mean he’s not not mean to reid. but if we’re comparing apples to apples, i think he’s not nearly as bad as jj in that sense. it may just be a matter of personal opinion: i happen to think his jokes land better and overall his humor seems to come from a better place. it feels like he jokes around for the sake of the joke bc he sees an opportunity to be funny, as opposed to jj who seems to be making fun of reid as a way to seek validation from others that she’s better than him

this may just be me finding a snarky old man less threatening than a blonde haired blue eyed mean girl, but idk there just seems to be a difference between “we found him on the steps of the fbi” and the annoyed faces jj makes every time reid speaks. one is clearly a joke, obviously an exaggeration, and spoken with a bemused fondness. the other plays into reid’s insecurities, is only meant to be funny to others, and comes from genuine annoyance. this is just the energy i get from them, but idk how my many years of anti jj bias plays into the interpretation of their actions

i guess its bc, as much as rossi makes fun of reid, they’re backhanded compliments more than anything and unlike jj he’ll actually give reid credit (showing him off to his friend w the crossword puzzles). he acknowledges reid’s strengths even as he puts him down, while jj seems to tolerate him. i think rossi plays the grumpy grandpa role well, and it works bc he doesnt take himself to seriously either. he can take a joke when jj would just get defensive

but that confidence is also part of whats frustrating about him. he’s frequently wrong and stuck in the old ways, but still feels justified and a sense of pride. jj rejects her roots (she doesnt do it well, but at least she’s vocal ab her disappointment w her childhood) but rossi frequently reminisces ab “the good ol days” whether its back in his early bau days w gideon, back in his days w the military, back in his days w his mob buddies, or back when he was growing up in general. jj doesnt like to admit she’s wrong bc she’s defensive and has an inferiority complex. rossi doesnt like to admit he’s wrong bc, more often than not, he still thinks he’s right

personally i agree w u bc i find jj way more annoying. ive also grown weary of the fandom pretending she’s an angel when i have yet to hear anyone point out any redeeming qualities she may have (spoiler alert: there are none). meanwhile i dont really hear anyone talk positively ab rossi… not that he deserves it at all aldhakhd its just makes it more obvious that people like jj for no reason. ultimately it is just a matter of opinion, i just dont think many people bother defending rossi so its less irritating when he clearly does something wrong. pointing out jj’s flaws feels like an uphill battle against people plugging their ears, digging their heels, and pretending she’s perfect.

ultimately rossi is just a goofy old man set in his ways, and its hard to blame him for that. hate to use such an overused word, but he’s just a boomer aldhskhc and on the boomer scale he’s not that bad akdhkshd. but jj is young. part of being young is learning to grow from your mistakes. she’s not even willing to admit she makes any. i think thats why its harder for me to forgive her akdhskh which may not be fair: rossi gets the “he doesnt know any better” excuse from the “cant teach an old dog new tricks” cliche (as problematic as it is). jj is far more stubborn and abrasive, which is less forgivable when she’s still supposed to be growing as a person. she’s stunting her own growth and idk if she could ever admit it

#a reason some people say they like jj is that they relate to her #but im like?? thats not something to be proud of?? akdhksh she is Not a good person #what is it you relate to? her sense of inferiority? her need to degrade others to make herself feel better? her egocentric worldview?#meanwhile no one says that shit ab rossi bc he’s a 70 yo man and completely out of touch alhdkshd #asks #char crit #anti jj #like. i agree w u but its hard to say rossi doesnt deserve the hate he gets #so its a hard position to defend #but jj definitely definitely deserves more hate #the day she’s usurped from the fandom’s pedastal will be a happy day indeed (tho i fear that day will never come aldhakdh)#also alhdksh another reason is bc idk if its just me but i find rossi genuinely funny sometimes when most ppl r upset w him #like when he gives hotch the gun to kill himself? im sorry but that was the funniest fucking thing anyones done on this show akdhskhd #‘oh ur depressed? kill urself then or stfu’ incredible he’s so inspiring aldjkshf

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loveforpreserumsteve · 1 year

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A Whole New Ballfield: "ALN" Story (Pre-Serum Omega!Steve and Alpha!Bucky Modern Domestic AU

Sixteen:

"For fuck's sake," Oliver groaned in annoyance while Nevie won the chocolate gelt pot.

Feigning shock, Bitsy dramatically gasped and tattled, "Pops, Ollie said a bad word."

Playfully, Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky jokingly reprimanded, "Oliver Thomas, watch your language."

"I'm an adult," Ollie good-naturedly scoffed. Rubbing his hand over his protruding abdomen, "I'm literally going to be a parent."

"Well, you're not my parent," Bucky childishly stuck his tongue out.

"He's got ya there," Rhodey chuckled, leaning over to kiss Oliver's stubbly cheek.

"Whatever," Ollie sighed, attempting to stand from his seat on the floor in front of the coffee table. Only able to maneuver himself up from the cushion when his husband stood and pulled, helping him. "God, I'm gonna be glad when that part is over."

Steve snickered to himself, not missing those days either. Been there, done that.

Waddling to the kitchen, Ollie talked to himself the whole way, "Once you're out, I'm gonna spend all my free time just sitting and rising. Just because I miss the ease of it all. And I'm gonna remind you just how much of a pain in the ass you were. Yes, I am. You're gonna have to deal with it the same way that I dealt with it from your pawpaw and pappy."

At that, Bucky caught Steve's gaze and exaggerated an eye roll. Steve muffled his laughter and allowed his mate to pull him closer as they lounged on the couch. Glad that the house smelled of happiness and love, and glad that the spiked hot chocolate made him just as loose-limbed as the scents surrounding him.

"Mmm," Oliver hummed happily, making his way back into the living room, eating one of the individual sourdough challahs. "I will miss eating anything and everything at any time though."

"As if you didn't do it before," Ian teased, shoving a handful of popcorn into his own mouth.

Narrowing his eyes into slits, Ollie gave the alpha a pointed look before taking another large bite of his challah roll. Rhodey gazed adoringly at his mate, "It's one of the things I love about him."

And because no matter how old they were, Oliver would still act like that twelve year old he was when he first met his mate, the omega opened his mouth to show off his chewed up food. Which then caused Rhodey to mock a gag along with the girls.

Swallowing without choking, Oliver glanced at the clock, "Where the hell is Kit and Finn?"

"Kit said he'd be here soon," Bucky tried to assuage.

"And Finn might be popping the question," Steve added, when Bucky tilted his head down so he could drop a kiss on the top of his head.

Sighing, he eased himself down on the sofa and placed his feet in his husband's lap. All the while, staring at the clock on the shelf beside Greg's urn and rubbing over Roo. Trying to ease his mate, Rhodey started massaging Ollie's swollen feet; occasionally marking over his shins.

"'You in a hurry or somethin'?" Bucky asked the younger omega.

Yawning, Oliver shook his head, "No, nothin' like that. Just want the whole family together."

Now that his son was in the third trimester of his pregnancy, Steve knew that those nesting hormones were going to be messing with him even more. So, it was no surprise when Ollie took the opportunity to mark over Bitsy's shoulder as she stayed on a cushion on the floor as she continued to play dreidel with their sisters.

"Anyone home?" Kit joked, entering the house.

"It's about damn time!" Oliver called, glancing over the back of the couch.

"Sorry, pops," Kit mocked.

"Hey!" Steve feigned offense.

"Where were you anyway?" Ollie questioned, watching as his sibling rounded the sofa to join the younger members of the Barnes family.

"Getting a Hanukkah present," Kit gave a shit-eating grin.

"Oh?" Steve asked, interest piqued. Finishing off his peppermint schnapps hot chocolate, "For who?"

"Me," Kit chuckled.

Brows furrowed, Cori asked, "What was the gift."

Unabashedly, Kit lifted their sweater to reveal a silver barbell pierced through each of their erect nipples. Steve cringed at how bad that must've happened while Bucky leaned forward to get a closer look at the ends of the barbell.

"Are those –" Bucky squinted, trying to get a better look without getting up to get his glasses "– eyeballs?"

"Yeah," Kit giddily answered. "Aren't they cool?"

"Didn't it hurt?" Nevie's face was as scrunched up at the imagined pain just like Steve's was.

Kit chuckled, "Not as bad as Leigh-Anne's."

"Wait," Oliver's brows furrowed, "You and Leigh-Anne got matching piercings?"

"What? No," Kit tugged their sweater back down and dismissively clarified, "Leigh-Anne got a VCH."

"What's a VCH?" Steve asked, resting against Bucky once again since alpha sat back.

"Uh," Kit's freckled alabaster cheeks reddened as they tried to avoid answering.

"It's a vertical hood piercing," Cori answered, preoccupied with spinning the dreidel. When she noticed that the rest of the family was watching her, she shrugged, "Kenzie got one before cheer camp and complained about it the whole time."

A bit tipsier than he had originally planned for the night, Steve couldn't help but burst out into a fit of giggles. Which made the rest of the room breakout into laughter. This was the only Hanukkah gift that Steve needed or wanted.

Distantly hearing the front door open, Steve felt his body tense in his excitement. Especially since it could only be one person joining them, and Finn had been silent in all of the group chats all day.

Steve wasn't the only one who quieted at the one – hopefully two – family member(s) joining them. In fact, a hush seemed to fall over the whole room. Even the cats seemed to perk from their sleep.

Fighting a grin, Finn stood in the entryway, not giving anything too concrete away. Instead, he tilted himself towards the front door and extended his arm to his girlfriend. Dani graciously took the alpha's hand and allowed him to pull her close.

Beaming, Dani lifted her left hand, revealing Sarah's dainty snowflake ring on the beta's slender finger. "I said, 'YES!'"

A chorus of, "congratulation," and, "mazel tov," rang out from the family. The girls jumped up from the floor and rushed over to hug their brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law. Of course, they weren't the only ones, Kit wrapped the engaged couple in a group hug. And while Ollie needed help from his doting husband, they both made sure to give hugs and kisses to the happy couple.

Steve and Bucky hung back for a moment. Love coursing through the bond as they observed their family experience the happiness that emanated around them. For a moment, Bucky held Steve close. After Bucky kissed Steve's temple, the petite omega stood on his tiptoes to press a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips.

When the pair pulled back from the kiss, they looked over at the newly engaged couple. Finn was positively glowing while Dani seemed nervous. Fidgeting as though she wasn't sure that her future fathers-in-law wouldn't accept her.

Immediately, Steve rectified that. Wrapping her up in his arms as he welcomed the beta to the family. Sure, it wasn't the first time that the sentiment had been used, but this time mattered more.

Looking down at his mother's ring on the twenty-three year old's finger, Steve's gaze turned blurry with unshed tears. Smiling up at her, Steve assured, "She would've loved you."

At that, Dani launched herself back at him. Wrapping her up in an even tighter embrace, Steve held her close. Not that Steve minded. Instead, he smoothed down her strawberry blonde hair just as he would for any of his other kids. After all, she was one of his kids now too.

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nationalharryleague · 3 years

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Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that.

Genre: Famous Fake Dating!

Word Count: 17.1k!

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A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries) and Lu (@meetmymouth) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

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