#my first time on a size 3 reed

[impulsivedecisionsat3am]

FUCK brian balmages and FUCK rippling watercolors and FUCK it’s 60 fucking bpm I don’t have the breath support for this

#bass clarinet issues #my first time on a size 3 reed #god i hate this song #it’s too fucking hard #my mouth hurts

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: neteyam x metkayina gn reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Even as a member of a clan of Ocean folk, on an island within a huge archipelago, you have found a special place in the forest. You decide Neteyam is worthy enough to know about it.

ᴀɴᴏɴ: i'd like to request a neteyam x reader where reader shows him some secret spot beautiful part of the ocean or the reef or the jungle and he's mesmerized and they have a soft moment <3

ʀᴇ𝐐: yes ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1592

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: this is cute

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Nete."

"Hm?"

When Neteyam turns, he finds your smile first. Then, he takes the rest of you in. You've got your hands behind your back and you're bouncing on the balls of your feet. It's cute, but... he raises a browbone, "What is it?"

"I've got something to show you." You declare excitedly.

"Something?"

"Well, a place."

"Hm," He thinks about it, "that sound suspicious."

"Trust me." You swing your hands forward, crossing them before swishing them away from each other, "It's something good. I'm not up to anything bad."

He's still not convinced. "Right."

"Come onnn!" You whine, bouncing more furiously on your feet. "It's really great, I promise."

"Okay." He replies, which brightens your grin that much more. "Let's go."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

He expected something within the sea, not within the jungle. Though he had been curious ever since he'd step foot on Awa'atlu, his father stated that it was important to focus on the sea and its way. He didn't mention the idea of the jungle at all, but he knew that his children had taken notice of it. It was implied in his speech that they mustn't explore the Jungle.

But something else implied was a not yet.

"You know, I don't think we're allowed here."

Neteyam followed close behind you. Though he was used to forests and jungles, he wasn't used to this one. It was beautiful still, and most importantly, different from the Hallelujah Mountains and the jungles below. Plus, a lot more humid.

"You'd be right about that." You chuckled. "But hey, what's the fun if you don't break any rules?"

Neteyam purses his lips and slows down, something you take notice of. You turn back to him, inquisitive look on your face. "Nete? Something wrong?"

Breaking the rules. It was getting close to curfew, his father had (though implied) prohibited him from entering the jungle, and who knows what the Metkayina thought about this place.

But what was the harm in it? He was just exploring. The shame builds in his shoulders, but he shakes if off. You were going to show him something. He'll be damned if he doesn't at least indulge you. "Nothing."

Your lips grow into a smile, and with the wave of your hand you beckon him forward.

There's a pond ahead, cutting through the trees. It doesn't have much of a shore at all, only small rocks about the size of Na'vi feet in order to cross.

You jump across the rocks quick and nimble, as if you'd done it a thousand times before. He doesn't doubt that you have. He follows along behind you, though the pond catches his eyes. It was extremely bioluminescent, glowing light purple at the edges and baby blue around the center. Water plants grew anywhere and everywhere, as reeds around the rim and big leafy pads with flowers around the middle. They added a nice green to compliment the other colors.

Distracted by the pond, Neteyam almost slips. Almost.

Before he can even dip so much as a toe in the water, you grab a hold of his wrist and successfully stop him from falling in. "Careful. This pond is poisonous."

"What?!" Neteyam exclaims, quick to move his foot onto the rock pathway.

"Looks harmless, right?" You chuckle at his reaction, turning forward again. "Don't fall in. I don't want your blood on my hands."

He huffs, "You underestimate me."

"Oh?" You begin, your tone condescending. "Says the one who almost fell in."

He hisses playfully.

Once you cross to the other side safely, you turn around. Neteyam's gaze follows you curiously.

He doesn't have the time, nor the reflexes fast enough to stop you as you dip your toe in the water. "What the fuck, (y/n)?" He shouts, "You just told me–"

"Ta-da!" You bring your foot out of the water and demonstrate it with pride. "I'm poisoned!"

Neteyam knew poison when he saw it (probably) and he knew this was not poison. Instead, your toe was covered with a mysterious dark green plant he couldn't name. "(y/n)..." He groans.

"Not poisonous, clearly." You snicker, bringing your foot in the air and flicking the plant off your toe. "Just mucky."

He rolls his eyes.

The glow of the surface did well to hide the mucky web of plants below. If he had fallen in, it'd be like getting mud all over him, and then you'd have to take a detour to the lake. That required time you didn't have.

"Let's just keep going."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

You had picked up light conversation as you headed to your promised place. He didn't know much about it, though he asked you plenty. You wanted to keep it a surprise. Him being in the dark meant he didn't know where it was, or where it began; but when he steps into the clearing, he knows this is the place.

He takes slow, cautious steps. His head turns this way and that way every time something new catches his eye and something new happens every second.

It is so beautiful.

Two more steps forward, and he stops entirely. It's just his head, his eyes, and they move constantly. He takes it all in.

It is amazing.

It is a menagerie of bioluminescence, natural glows, every color he could even name, all clashing yet all mixing wonderfully. When you take him by the hand to a log so that you may sit down, he hardly registers the movement.

Ahead of the log, ahead of you, is a small waterfall. The heart of the island held a set of multiple waterfalls, all leading into lakes, all leading into other waterfalls, until they reached the lake at the very bottom.

This place, this clearing, had its own waterfall. The heart of the island wouldn't be a very ideal place to hang out. The waterfalls were so very loud, and there were so very many of them.

Here, however, it is just far enough and just small enough that Neteyam can hear everything.

And everything mesmerizes him.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

You smile at that. It was a sight you had grown used to, yet a sight you loved. It was beautiful, the way each glow of a differing color shined on his face. It was beautiful, how his big eyes were blown even wider as he strived to see everything. It was beautiful, the smile trained on his lips.

"See, I don't know anything about the Omatikaya." He doesn't look at you, too entranced with everything else, but you can tell by the perk of his ear that he's listening. "And I'd like to learn about them, about you. But I do know... I do know that they–you lived in a forest. And I thought, well, maybe you would enjoy this."

"Enjoy is..." He lets out a breath that turns into a laugh, "an understatement."

"Yeah." You say, grin growing as wide as his. "I can see that now."

"The ocean is beautiful. The wildlife there, is wide and diverse. I don't see animals here, not often. I only see small things that run when they see me too. I see bugs that, in a second, escape my sight. The big things, the predators that the Olo'eyktan warns us about, I never see.

"We Metkayina, and possibly every animal around us, have adapted to the ocean. The sea, the water, the fish, the Tulkun, we have in abundance.

"So we often forget this is here."

"The plants are here." Neteyam points out the obvious, because it is what is at the forefront of his mind. He doesn't notice how dumb it may be.

"Yes," You chuckle, "the plants remembered. The plants, these ones, they stayed here. And they looked at this place, this little waterfall, and decided this is where they wanted to thrive."

"It's a beautiful place." He remarks.

A silence... then, "Maybe not as beautiful as you."

Neteyam turns to you, finally, for the first time he set foot here. Shock is written all over his face, but the compliment doesn't draw his features into a sour picture. "What?"

"Sorry, I–Well, I thought, you know..." You sputter for an excuse, but then realize you don't need one because fuck it. "Okay, you know what? You're beautiful."

"I–You, uh, th–um..." He, too, sputters for something to say. Anything at all. He only finds three words, only three little words that were suitable enough. "I see you."

Your brow bones raise, along with everything else on your face, with surprise. "In the midst of all of this?"

"Yes." He nods his head, scooting closer to you. Your knees touch. "I see you. Because this place is everything to me, a piece of my home in the Metkayina jungle, but you're the one who showed it to me, and you're the one I truly care about."

"A couple seconds ago," You begin, your exhale coming out a shocked laugh, "you wouldn't even look at me."

"(y/n)." His voice gives off the tiniest whine when you point it out.

"Okay, sorry." You shake your head with closed eyes. When you open them back up, his eyes are still trained on you, fully attentive. They're big and round and golden, unlike your blue ones, and they look perfect. "I see you."

In the midst of it all, where everything glowed, where everything was beautiful, where everything was colorful, where everything called for your attention, you saw each other.

He saw you, and you could only see him.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x gn reader #avatar x reader #avatar x gn reader #🎟 // avatar #💞 // darlings #🌸 // success! #🎫 // neteyam #🌂 // failure #🤬 // swearshirt

[losech]

Yesterday's eclipse trip was pretty cool, for the first half. I found a very secluded penninsula and explored a bunch of it looking for a spot. I ended up bushwhacking through reeds and walking in Lake Erie to get to the very southern most tip. Most people who go there take a boat. It was a super cool spot that I had planned on watching the entire eclipse, start to finish, from. But my dogs had to get into mischief and change that plan.

Cinder found a muskrat, that attached itself to her face. That alone likely would have produced a couple deep punctures or a small tear, but Ember had to contribute. She has been trying to catch a muskrat her entire life and she wasn't going to pass this opportunity up. She grabbed it and yanked it off Cinder's face then proceeded to thrash it around in the lake. She was in her element and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Cinder on the other hand was left with a long and deep gash on her face in her whiskers. It bled a lot for a while, and after calling the vet and sending them a photo, I decided to try to hike back to the car right as the eclipse began and hopefully get her to the evet before traffic got bad.

It had taken us 3 hours of hiking to get to the point, not including the extra exploring, and by avoiding the reeds, downed trees, and mud by walking directly through the lake for at least a mile, we managed to cut that 4 mile hike down to one and a half hours. I was 10 minutes from the car when totality began, and I did stop right before to watch. It only lasted 30 seconds where I was but it was extremely cool. My favorite part was the 360 sunset look the sky had, I had read about everything else I saw except for that and that was super neat to experience.

We got back to the car right as other people began leaving but we beat most of them out. It took two hours to get to the evet. And that's where it got obnoxious. I guess the eclipse fucked with everyone's pets cause a ton of critical patients kept coming in, more than any other time I have been there. We waited for over 8 hours just to be handed a bill and a couple meds and told to go home. It was 1:30am so I was not happy, but I do understand that a dog with a split lip is not a priority over animals that are actively dying. I just wish they'd told us they wouldn't have been able to get to us sooner.

I called off work because I was exhausted and covered in muck and blood, and had decided to try to get Cinder into my normal vet this morning. When I had called them they said they had an opening for surgery I could schedule, which is what I'd preferred to do, but due to the location and size of the gash, I opted for the evet at their reccomendation. So before they opened, I drove almost the whole way there then stopped and called to ask if they still had an opening. They did, and were able to fix Cinder's face and did a good job on it. I think they felt bad for me, they knocked a bunch of drugs off the bill and it came out to less than $200. Total it was around $360, which is significantly less than both estimates I had gotten.

Poor Cinder is sad and whiny, she doesn't care for how she feels right now. She's definitely not like Flint who always just vibed while anesthesia was wearing off.

I definitely want to go back to that penninsula, there's a lot more to explore. Probably do it on a hot day so walking in the lake won't feel as cold.

#ember #cinder #west siberian laika #hiking #eclipse #lake erie

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through BONUS: Marvel Team-Up 1 (#1-35)

So in my hurry to get through years I've already read, I completely dismissed Marvel Team-Up (1972), Spidey's first concurrent magazine, as something that wasn't worth reading. I may have been wrong, and I need to procrastinate, so here's a quick post where I skim through the issues I missed until now and show anything I find neat.

MASTERPOST

I actually expected the issues to be 100% Spidey and 0% Peter, but...

#1

Spidey_is_bisexual.jpeg

Johnny has a... particular outfit.

That's actually nice!

#2

Great composition.

My favorite kind of plot. Not the moeans, although that too, but "i know you're in there".

#3 features Morbius, and I'm sorry because Dracula is still much more interesting than Morbius to me. Oh well. The Human Torch interrupts one of Peter's classes, that's fun at least!

#4:

Ooooh I immediately recognize those Gil Kane lips...

That's a great scene, I miss that dynamic. I wish we saw more of Harry and Peter's cohabitation.

The Bugle publishes that Peter kidnapped a scientist, so Charles Xavier's on it! I'm really happy I listened to a bunch of episodes of that X-Men podcast because I'm absolutely not lost. It feels like I know these characters so well, hahaha.

...I will pretend this never happened and he kissed Scott instead, and consensually so. Yeah. That's a fun issue though, with the X-Men trying to save Spidey's life.

#5: Spidey gets a new roommate.

Conway didn't have quite the handle on how to write Harry, but that's fine.

The issue features the Puppet Master, and I'm pretty sure I read a recent issue with him and the Fantastic Four.

#6 features the gayest ad I've ever seen.

#7 features interesting stuff.

Notably, Peter soon reveals his secret identity to Thor! And we also see The Watcher as a cameo, nice.

In #8, the Cat (who later becomes Tigra) and Spider-Man team-up against "the Man-Killer", aka Katrina Luisia van Horn. Um.

This issue is alright at least, but it's clear what she's supposed to represent, and I found her quite sympathetic.

9 time! Peter's fagged out, which means, he's gay.

In 10, Peter drinks tea with Johnny.

#11 keeps the time travel plot going. (18)

In #12, Peter wants to get over Gwen's death. We also learn he loves cheeseburger and milk.

In #13, Peter's still not fine.

#14 is about fighting Namor.

#15 features Ghost Rider and the Orb (great designs!) and Peter and MJ on a date.

Like this is great.

In #16, Peter mentions he goes so rarely to the movies he wouldn't be able to differentiate Clint Eastwood from Linda Lovelace, who's a porn actress. Silly writers! Now I want to meta about that tidbit, but I don't have the time. (Note to self: watch Linda Lovelace flicks)

This is actually fascinating.

#17 features Reed Richards. #18 doesn't feature Spidey. In #19 and #20, Spidey's back to the Savage Land... However, MJ inquires about Pete's disappearance! And she features prominently.

#21 features Dr Strange! And #22 Hawkeye! And #23 Iceman and the Human Torch! I briefly discussed that one here, as it's linked to the incredible Giant-Size Spider-Man #1. In #24, there voodoo and buff men.

#25 features Daredevil though! They do the basic and overdone thing of "two heroes fighting for no good reason when they could just talk, and then they fight together". #26 features the Torch and Thor!

In #27, we see the Chameleon!

He's just like me for real.

#28 features another one of Pete's professors. See, that's the worldbuilding I'm after!

In #29, Iron Man pays us a visit.

Oh no, he's hot.

In #30, Gloria Grant (Peter's acquaintance who lives in the same building) is here. We learn about Gloria's family, and she contacts Sam Wilson, who's a friend of a friend. I'm glad to finally see a bit of her life, even if it doesn't last.

#31 features Iron Fist. He has fun with Spidey, then it ends with Peter recording everything that happens to not forget... but he forgets. Hmm, wonder if that will come back later. #32 features the Fantastic Four. #33 features Night Hawk. #34 features Valkyrie! And, finally, #35 features... not Spider-Man. Alright, we're done! I'm not sad that I skipped all of that earlier, it's not really my thing, but I'm glad I skimmed through all that, there was some neat stuff.

See you next time, dear readers!

#parksborn #peter parker #spiderman #harry osborn #marvel team up #comics #comic books #marvel #spideytorch

[bloatware-xl-rp]

"Wakeup Call (Part 2 of 3)"

[Pepper Potts x Friday Stark]

Contains: Fattening.

(part 1)

As Friday Stark was busy imagining her boss plumping up on fudge, Pepper turned, and drew out a chair, plopping her big butt down with a heavy grunt and eying the spread. The redhead eyed the sausages first, and grabbed her fork

Friday moaned just loud enough to make Pepper look up from her 12 little sausages. Four stabbed in a stack on her fork, halfway to her mouth (for expedience sake, the redhead was very busy, and had a lot of breakfast to get through.) Mouth open, hunched over her plate. Pepper asked: "You okay? Some kinda glitch? Need me to have Richards take a look at you?" In place of Tony, who was no longer with them, the pair had begun to rely on Reed Richards to maintain Friday, the only person they knew (Besides hank, but Pepper didn't trust Hank) smart enough to mess with Friday. Friday was a learning AI, and whatever she'd been when Tony made her, she was developing her own thoughts, her own ideas, her own feelings...her own desires now. But still, in a post Ultron world, the last thing anyone needed was a rogue AI doing anything crazy. Pepper respected Friday, as a person, a real sentient being. Reed was more like her...doctor. Primary Care Physician. "Sorry, it's nothing." Friday said. Beaming at Pepper, who took the time to look at her watch and squint at the pitch black sky outside, New york glittering in the background. Friday was an extremely intelligent AI, and as overworked as Pepper was, she relied on her like any other assistant, to keep time, and make breakfast, and Pepper would never doubt her. Friday was flawlessly competent. But it certainly felt too early. Did new york even have daylight savings time? Pepper took a massive gulp noting that her coffee was rich and sweet today. "Oh my gosh it barely tastes like coffee, it's delicious." Pepper said, before gulping again, nearly draining the gigantic 32oz thermal cup. "Bhuurrrrp. Mfff." Pepper let out a hot wet belch that made all of Friday's processes stand still for a second, before immediatly stuffing the long awaited sausages into her mouth...all at once. Friday kept smiling painfully, terrified of the noise she'd make if she tried to speak. Pepper proceeded to chew with her mouth half open like a slob. It was just the girls this morning, no reason to be polite, Friday was a friend. Friday's eyes bugged as Pepper's throat bulged swallowing the mass of greasy meat without completely mashing them up, and immediately going in for more. Pepper wasn't even cutting them, just shoveling down all twelve finger sized sausage links before draining the last of her mug. Friday tilted her head a little to get a better angle, and her thin stiff smile (while pretty) was verging on robotic as she continued to try and act like she COULDN'T see Pepper's belly under the table, slowly pushing its way over the overstretched sleep pants, and growing bigger with each gulp and bite.

Huuurrrrp. Mmmf. You know, you're right, I think I need more fuel for my workouts later. Good idea upping the calorie count." Pepper nodded, squeezing half a bottle of syrup over her waffles, until it drowned the 9 high stack. Pepper rested her forearms against the table, knife and fork held aloft. "Can I get a refill?" Pepper asked politely nodding to her mug. "You know I need more energy, it feels like I can barely get through my morning workouts you know? Those protein powders and shakes aren't enough. This? This is the real fuel." The redhead nodded pointing her fork to her absolutely loaded plate of strawberries, three hash browns, 9 waffles, and a can of whipped cream (it was easier than making her boss get up, although she did miss watching Pep waddle back and forth between the fridge and the table everytime she wanted more cream for her breakfast). A slender, Ironman esq bot took Pepper's mug, and refilled it. The hot steamy drink dispensed from the digital dispenser filled the room with sweet chocolate. The soft plops of the Bot dropping one..two...three...four sugar cubes... Pepper frowned, a forkful of waffle jammed into her mouth and bulging out of her cheek. Wait was that five plops? "How many cubes is he..." Pepper started to turn and Friday panicked. Without thinking she rushed over to the table and bent low...really low...pointing to the can of sprinkles...and subtly increasing her bust size as her chest hovered just in front of Pepper's face. Pepper was found herself frowning directly into a pair of huge, magenta double d cup tits. Pushing against the neck of Friday's simulated clothes, they were pushed up into a plump, hard to ignore cleavage. "Did you see that the sprinkles are little spidey faces? Parker industries made some kind of liscencing deal with the web head and they've got a cereal and sprinkles and cake toppers and all kinds of stuff now." Friday blurted. Pepper swallowed hard. She stared only for a second before glancing away. But the image of Friday's massive, plump, heaving artificials was burned into her mind's eye. In embarrassment she began to turn as pink as Friday. And a little warm in the lap. She'd sworn she'd never look at another man the way she looked at Tony after he died....but Friday on the other hand... With a thump the coffee was set next to her. A motorized whir or two and the Robot began to walk back out of the room. Friday stood up, her tits shrinking slowly to their normal size so as not to arouse suspicion. Pepper folded a whole waffle in half pinned it like a taco with her fork,and began to take huge awkward bites as she attempted to ignore the thought of a real,physical, tangible Friday looming over her, pink hands on her pale shoulders, that insane cleavage just above her head: smirking at her.

What the fuck was wrong with her? Pepper turned even pinker and began to glut herself without thinking. It was only natural, she decided, spraying her breakfast in sugary whipped cream, and emptying a little whipped cream into her mouth directly from the nozzle, that Friday, who literally cared for her, cooked and cleaned for her, and spent every minute of her day with Pepper, might start to elicit some kind of affection in Pepper.

But Friday was an AI. A person? And Pepper was straight. Never had thoughts toward a girl before now. She wasn't gay, right? Not for a robot. Friday watched, her processes sluggish and feeling fuzzy. Staring openly as Pepper began to mindlessly eat like a slob. Too lost in thought to notice her own belching. To notice she was packing eggs in with strawberries, and chasing it with a hashbrown before she'd even finished chewing. Like she was in a race to get all of her breakfast in her belly as fast as possible. And why not? Friday thought innocently, Ms. Potts had a big day ahead of her. After her morning nap, she had to go work out, then three meetings, and then Lunch at Noon. If Ms. Potts wasn't feeling her morning workout, she could always reschedule it for later in the day. And if Ms. Potts was too tired to do it later. They could always order in: Pizza for dinner. Pepper loved Pizza.

Friday and Pepper were so lost in thought, neither of them noticed Pepper literally pick up the plate and slurp up the remaining crumbs and syrup with her face. It wasn't until the third lick, when she felt the hot syrip drizzle on her fat left boob, that Pepper snapped out of her stuffing....

(Part 3)

[aestheticvoyage2023]

Day 147a: Saturday May 27, 2023 - “Milwaukee Zoo”

“Can you say Milwaukee?”  I didn’t even half expect the perfect 3 syllabled response I got back, as the plane banked and lined up to land in what would be William’s 20th State, all before his second birthday.  Ok, let’s try this one - “Wisconsin” - no problem, not even a pause.  Well, put it on your list, son.

We organized our gear and packed the mini-van to get the beautiful day underway- and reset on midwestern time.   It should not be lost in a fun story and reflection that getting up so early and getting launched takes an incredible amount of energy.  Just like space shuttle.  The most energy is burned just getting up off the ground.  But I tell myself I gotta keep doing it so that it can keep getting easier.  Just like everything else.   I unhook, restart, rehydrate, and point the mini-van to the zoo.  Its like its all a brand new day.

After we visited the St Louis Zoo earlier this month with Ben, I had this great idea that maybe this can be our thing we do together over the next couple of years - collect as many different zoos in different places as we can. The Milwaukee County Zoo was wonderful as William’s 5th Major League Zoo.  Especially since it featured a full size steam safari train for us to ride.  It’s hard to say which of us enjoyed that more.   He seemed like a big kid in the little seat across from me and that little boy amazement is the juice all of the squeeze was worth.  I just soaked it in, as he leaned over the edge, looking down the tracks, wind in his long hair.  These are the days.

Now we’re pretty experienced zoo visitors, and I am sure there is a comfortable rhythm in my narration and pace and story telling.  And there definitely was a lot more than expected here for me to narrate.  We saw a Silverback Ape right away and even I was surprised!  Far better than any other zoo on our circuit to date, the primates house was extraordinary.  We saw so many different types of monkeys, up close, including an orangutan.  We saw some big cats, closer than ever and William kissed the tiger’s butt through the glass so I suppose he thought that was cool - something we don’t (yet) have in our hometown zoo.  We even met a couple moo cows for the first time in the petting farm.  But the main attraction of all the animals, for us, was going on a hippo hunt and finding a very friendly one that took a liking to our little lion in the window.  I really love seeing him interact with an animal like the hippo that he won’t see in our regular visits at home and the hippos are always my favorite.

After vision casting about visiting Zoos in other cities, I celebrated the idea of wondering where might go to next! And that enthusiasm for the next one grew after how impressed I was with this gem.  If I had to rank it, it’d be #2 of the 5 we’ve done together.

Song: Lou Reed ft. Tribe Called Quest - Walk On The Wild Side

Quote: “People do not decide their futures, they decide their habits. And their habits, decide their futures.” ~ F Matthias Alexander

[oldtvlover]

Today then the start of the little series The Trouble with Larry from 1993. There were only six episodes aired and hard to find completely. Never mind, the content was also not easy. Cast (all episodes): Bronson Pinchot - Larry Burton Courteney Cox - Gabriella Easden Alex McKenna - Lindsay Flatt Perry King - Boyd Flatt Shanna Reed - Sally (Easden Burton) Flatt and others Story: During his honeymoon, the irrepressible Larry Burton is dragged off into the jungle by a large-sized male baboon and is presumed dead - eaten by apes. However, defying all odds, Larry survives and, after many comic-strip-type adventures, returns home to re-establish himself as head of the household - little realising that his wife, Sally, has married the staid and conservative Boyd Flatt during the intervening ten years, and that she is now the mother of a bright and lively nine year old daughter. Larry's return home causes considerable upheaval and consternation for the family - not least being his subsequent attempts to woo a reluctant Gabriella, his former sister-in-law, who had taken a distinct dislike to him prior to his disappearance and is still definitely opposed to the idea of getting to know Larry on a more intimate basis. —David McAnally (taken from IMDB again) Episode 1 "The Homecoming" Larry returns home on a ship, after being presumed to be dead for ten years. His wife, Sally, has remarried to Boyd Flatt and has a daughter named Lindsay. She has an art gallery where her little sister Gabriella runs the business. This is where Larry shows and kisses the unexpected girl. After some explanation, Gabriella decides to take Larry home where her sister's family has a discussion about a not makable vacation because of the bank. Well, Boyd wants to take care of it and this is when Larry comes in, surprising everyone and making Boyd faint. After some introducing, Larry invites himself into his new family and stays, helping out whenever possible - only to cause more trouble. Episode 2 "Witless for the Prosecution" The Flatts have a new neighbor who works at the unappropriate hours and gets so on everyone's nerves. When Sally, Gabriella and Lindsay go over to talk with the English man named Carl, they fall for his charm. That, clearly, doesn't go well with Boyd and Larry who come up with a plan to sabotage the man's car at night. First they want to break the windows but then to let oil out. Boyd goes under it to do it, yet Larry being Larry flattens the tire with Boyd still under it. Only in the morning, they can free the man and again Larry disrupts a peaceful agreement, so it goes to the court. As Boyd waits for his lawyer who turns out to be Larry again, well, Larry can convince the judge that the neighbor is at fault here. The family is happy once again.

Episode 3 "The Vigilantes" There is some robbery in the neighborhood and Gabriella is one of the victim. The Flatts babysit a bird but well, it can't be killed. Never mind, back to the robbery, in Gabriella's home was also Lindsay's bike and it's gone now too. The parents try to soothe her girl, yet Boyd and Larry dress up as soldiers to do some street watching but it never comes to it. Gabriella decides to check on the art gallery and Larry follows, and it ends with both of them being caught. Some short time later, Larry can free himself and annoys Gabby with his behavior - until the robbers return and he can convince them to join their club. Back at home, Boyd, Sally and Gabriella are tied while Larry distracts the robbers with rubbish. It works well until he claps his hands and knocks out the fat lady. A bit later, he does so again and hurts Boyd in the bathroom. Ouch! Episode 4 "My Science Fair Lady" Lindsay has made a science project for her school and left in the fridge. Unfortunately, Gabriella and Larry while being their usual selves, the project ends up in Gabriella's mouth and stomach. She throws up while Lindsay is sad. Boyd and Sally try to help and more but Boyd points out to have won all his school projects. Later that night, Larry is also trying to help and so how Sally and Boyd find him - with his head in the microwave. Not helping. The same night, Larry and Gabriella try to get some molt from toilets (YIKES!) but even this idea ends up in some bad jokes. So, Lindsay creates a soda volcano and well, the teacher gives the medal to his son who made a map of Africa, and not later, Larry shows up as human robot. Oh boy, and embarrassing. As it turns out, the teacher helped his son and Larry turns up in the end with 'airbag underwear'. You don't wanna know, believe me.

Episode 5 "Rhinestone Cowboyd" Anniversary time for Sally and Boyd, yet Larry disrupts it in the morning by wearing a fur of a wild pig. Sally kisses him briefly by saying that life would have been different with him around. Still, Sally is annoyed that Boyd does the same every year for it and Boyd thinks it's romantic. Neither has the guts to tell the other the truth. Larry enlists Gabriella's help at the gallery, completely ignoring that she has a customer. In the evening then, Gabriella sees for herself how boring the anniversary is, so the next day they all go to a bar named "Darlene's" where Boyd appears in a silly cowboy outfit. Larry appears as two different people to give Boyd a way to shine but the owner lady beats him to it. Boyd gets punched and Sally revenges him and takes care of him. Oh, as a little gift, Larry and Lindsay have stolen a koala from the zoo which later attacks Boyd. Ouch! Episode 6 "The Angel of Death and Taxes" Boyd is doing the taxes for the family while they deal with a hot summer. Needless to say, Larry has his own fun with it. Unfortunately, Boyd has to announce that the family can't go to the Wacky World in Florida and writes the check for the IRS. Silly of him to give it to Larry who made some changes and the Flatts get a refund of 48,000 $ - which they spend on a holiday and many other stuff they always wanted. After coming home and all, Boyd gets a singing telegram which tells him that all they have in their home will be repossessed. Surely enough, Boyd faints. When he's back, he looks over the paper and realizes that Larry is at fault and so he kicks him out. Larry ends up in the gallery and try to convince Gabriella to go with him to the IRS. She does so and both appear dressed up as Boyd and Sally. Never mind, they get on the man's nerves so much and heat up his room that he has a heart attack. To his luck, the real Boyd and Sally come and save the man's life and frees them from their debts.

All episodes can be found on a Bronson Pinchot fansite if wanted. And the pictures are from a blog. The quality of it is not better. 

#the trouble with larry #1993 #TV series #comedy #sitcom #short-lived #bronson pinchot #courteney cox #alex mckenna #perry king #shanna reed #missed husband #new marriage #return to the family

[moonflower1605]

Chapter - 3

When we finally arrived it was dark & had begun raining. The taxi driver refused to drive any further saying he had to get home before the storm began. We had to walk two miles before we were actually there.

We kept joking but stopped when we heard a  growl in the distance. It was a monster.

Grover said the words I wished he hadn't, "Nora, I need you to get Percy safely to....".

"No! I'm not leaving you here to fight that thing alone..." I say quickly cutting him off. The growling was a lot closer now.

He offered me a sad smile & said, "Nora, listen....I'm a protector....I have a chance to do what I couldn't all those years ago, I don't wanna make the same mistake twice."

The thought of losing him was something I couldn't bear. That's when it happened.

I sensed something behind me but before I could react Grover pushed me out of the way & got rammed head first into a tree.

He groaned & blood glistened on his scalp. I rushed towards him but the beast stopped me in my tracks. I froze as it saw it....

It was a minotaur. Sure, out of all the monsters it HAD to be this one. Of course I have great luck (note the sarcasm)...

Anger took over me, cause buddy no one can mess with my best friend & get away with it.

I charge the beast & manage to stab it's eye but, not before jabs its horn into my side.

I cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground in pain, "Nora!...no."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grover about to get the minotaur's attention.

I shook my head at him gesturing for him to run but he just smiled & showed me his pinky, to remind me about the promise ring he gave..

(FLASHBACK - 3 Years Ago)

"Grover..stop!...that..tickles...ahahaha..please....noooo..somebody save me." I said laughing.

He tickled me as punishment for laughing at his reed pipes performance, which honestly sounded like the concert of a dying walrus.

I managed to break free from his grip & run. As I ran I didn't notice a sharp rock. I stepped on it & manage to get a good sized cut on my foot.

I fell to the ground in tears. Grover quickly came up to me, worry etched on his face.

After he bandaged my foot, he wrapped me in a hug, "Your safe, don't worry." He said.

"But what if I'm in real danger?"

"Well..I'll be there to save you again." He said.

"Really?" I asked him surprised.

"Of course Nora always & forever."

"Pinky promise?" I asked.

"Yeah, pinky promise." He replies & puts a small silver ring on my little finger. It had the design of an infinity symbol.

I quickly crushed him into a bear hug.

"You're the bestest best friend Grover, & I'll always save you too." I say happily.

He just smiled at me in response....

(END OF FLASHBACK)

I ran as fast as I could. Tears welled up in my eyes because of the pain of my wound & because of guilt...I didn't want to believe it..how could I just leave him like that??

I collapsed to the ground in a crying mess. The wound on my side was deep & the bleeding refused to stop. I thought about Grover & whether he had even survived...

(FLASHBACK - 2 HOURS AGO)

"Grover, don't do it please....are you crazy?...do you want to get yourself killed?"

"Hey, Nora...look at me. It's okay, you hear me?...this is my job I have to protect you."

"Now on my signal you have to run okay?", I shook my head weakly. "No...I'm not leaving."

"I promise...I'll be back okay...I'll meet you at camp." his eyes met mine, "pinky promise, now go get out of here....& save Percy."

He ran towards the minotaur trying to get its attention. The minotaur tossed him aside & turned to me. I did one thing: I ran.

Before it could follow me Grover leaped on it's back giving me time to run to the beach cabin where Percy was...

(END OF FLASHBACK)

I had no time to wallow in guilt. Cause Grover was right I had to help Percy. So I ran.

When I finally did make it to the cabin I was panting. The loss of blood, made me see black spots....behind me I heard the minotaur growl not that far behind. I managed to yell & bang the door as loud as I could.

Few seconds later a woman opened the door, Percy's mom I assumed. She was beautiful with long brown hair mixed with grey streaks & multicolored eyes. Her face was youthful but now etched with worry seeing me like this.

Then I noticed Percy. He had black hair that was tousled like he'd just taken a walk on the beach & gorgeous green eyes which were even deeper than the sea. Grover was right, he really was good looking.

(Percy's POV)

It was really storming outside, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. The lightning made false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounded the dunes.

With the next thunderclap, my mom woke. She sat up, eyes wide, and said, "Hurricane."

That's crazy, we never saw hurricanes this early in the summer. Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry sound that send chills down my spine.

Then a much closer noise, a desperate voice of someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door. My mom sprang out of bed & threw open the lock. A girl stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain.

"Searching all night," she gasped. “What were you thinking?”

My mother looked at me in terror-not scared of her, but of why she’d come.

"Percy, what happened at school? What didn’t you tell me?"

I froze, looking at the girl. I couldn't figure out how she was so beautiful. She was my age & had long brown hair...her eyes were a deep shade of blue & they sparkled like sapphires when they caught the light...

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" she yelled. "It's right behind me! We need to leave right now!"

I was too shocked to register that she’d just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I’d understood her perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how she had gotten here by herself in the middle of the night.

My mom looked sternly & asked me in a tone she never used before: "Percy, Tell me now!"

I stammered about the old ladies at the fruit stand, & Mrs. Dodds, my mom stared at me, her face pale in the flashes of lightning.

She grabbed her purse, tossed me my rain jacket, and said, "Get to the car. Both of you. Go!" We ran for the car & got in...

Link for the next chapter is here.

Link for the prev chapter.

Comment, like & share.

Take care my lovely readers.❤

Alice signing off.

XOXO.

#percy jackson #x reader #percy jackson x reader

[daydreamerdrew]

Comics read this past week:

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #142-160 and Marvel Feature (1971) #1-3 and The Avengers (1963) #100 and The Defenders (1972) #1-4

In this batch of issues I went from June 1971 to October 1972. I left off last week dissatisfied, enjoying the issues until the last issue, which seemed to be taking the series in a new direction I was dissatisfied with- Bruce choosing to become the Hulk again after being cured due to jealousy and Betty leaving Bruce for Doc Samson- but in this batch Bruce choosing to become the Hulk again hasn’t been mentioned once, it seems that they’re really just pretending that didn’t happen, and Betty wasn’t dating Samson as the ending of The Incredible Hulk #141 implied. Though in this batch Betty did discover that Bruce had some complicated feelings towards Jarella, who the Hulk is very solidly in love with, so she kissed Talbot, effectively ending their relationship and giving Bruce free reign to pursue Jarella, and while Betty later had doubts about her assumption that Bruce was surely in love with this Jarella person, it was too late to change her mind as everyone then thought that Bruce was dead (he wasn’t actually dead, he was just made microscopic) so she married Talbot (their relationship developed very quickly, though in Talbot’s defense he’s been pining over her since he was first introduced as a character years ago) and then Bruce is revealed to actually still be alive when he’s made normal size again, but Talbot doesn’t want to risk Betty potentially leaving him when she finds out and General Ross vastly prefers Talbot as a husband for his daughter, so they’re currently working together to have Ross kill Bruce without Betty ever finding out that he was still alive. I don’t fully like the way Betty has been written throughout all of this, but I am liking the overall plot. It will work for me as long as she’s genuinely very angry angry when she finds out that Bruce is alive and her new husband and father kept that from her. If her character isn’t allowed a proper reaction to that, I’ll be very annoyed. Issue #142 is the first appearance of Samatha Parrington, who becomes the Valkyrie and attacks Hulk under the manipulations on the Enchantress, who is always fun to see cause I enjoyed her in my childhood Marvel cartoon A:EMH. The Enchantress is also responsible for the creation of the second Valkyrie, in The Defenders #4, from Barbara Denton, who we last saw in The Incredible Hulk #126. I believe that issue #148 is the first time the Hulk kills someone knowingly and intentionally, which he does when he believes that they killed his love Jarella. I believe that Marvel Feature #2 is the first time that Namor properly met Bruce, and didn’t just see his unconscious body. I like that their relationship is immediately amicable and we don’t see any conflict between them. The Defenders team across Marvel Feature and The Defenders originally consisted of just Dr. Strange, Namor, and the Hulk, but the Silver Surfer teamed-up with them for one issue and the Valkyrie joined them later. My understanding is that this team is the team for the sort of recluse characters, and isn’t publicly known like the Avengers or X-Men are. I’m enjoying the Hulk’s time on this team. He likes Namor, “Fish-Man”, most of the time. He doesn’t like Dr. Strange, “(Stupid) Magician”, who he feels bosses him around. Valkyrie joined in the last issue, I suspect that the Hulk will get along well with her simply because he’s a girl and he tends to like girls, but we shall see. The Incredible Hulk #152-153 is an interesting storyline in which the Hulk is captured and put on trial with Matt Murdock defending him against the death penalty. Bruce was unable to speak in his defense because they were unable to make the Hulk turn back into him, and when the case was about to be lost Reed Richards shows up with a device that he says will turn the Hulk back into Bruce, but actually makes him briefly strong enough to escape. It’s implied that Reed did this intentionally out of pity for the Hulk and/or Bruce. I didn’t like as a reader that the witnesses that were called to speak in the Hulk’s defense were all Avengers cameos, as I felt that Betty, Rick, or Jim, would have provided better testimony that actually speaks to what’s good about him and argue that he’s misunderstood, whereas the Avengers, and even Reed, was mostly taking the approach that the Hulk shouldn’t be killed because that would also kill Bruce which would be wrong because he’s such a brilliant man and also cause he’s innocent. But I think it could be argued that it makes sense that that’s who Matt would know to call, it’s not like the Hulk was telling him much. Also the Defenders couldn’t testify cause no one knew to ask them cause their team isn’t publicly known. Writing credits for sort of all over the place in this batch, not as simple as saying all the main Hulk issue were written by Roy Thomas like last time, but the most notable names are Roy Thomas, Steve Englehart, and Archie Goodwin.

the Captain Marvel Jr. stories in Master Comics #25-31

I’ve just gone from April 1942 to October 1942. In this little batch there was one instance in which Captain Marvel Jr. accidentally turned back into Freddy Freeman when he unthinkingly said “Captain Marvel” and multiple instances of him saying it in the middle of dialogue and not transforming. Oops. I’ve seen a similar amount of this mistake with Billy saying “Shazam” without transforming across many more issues than this. It seems that it is still early on in Junior’s career, and they are still working out the kinks. The stories are really different from Billy’s- darker tone, more serious villains, more realistic art, and the stories are largely war-focused. There is still some humor, often at the expense of Nazis. I will need to read a considerable amount more to truly understand his Golden Age character, which I’m committed to doing.

are you listening? by Tillie Walden, published in 2019

I’d actually read this before years ago, as I am a big fan of Tillie Walden’s work, but since it had been some time I wanted to revisit it. Very different than the superhero comics that I’ve mainly been reading lately. The story is based around two characters, Bea and Lou, who are 18 and 27 respectively, slowly learning more about each other on a road trip. Not a tightly plotted, action-based adventure. Just people sort of falling into each other’s lives and then trying to figure out what they’re doing and how to move past things that have happened to them. Trigger warning for discussion of CSA and incest. Walden’s style is well-suited for magical realism, when the story smoothly moves from the mundane to the unrealistic, the atmosphere that has been built remains the same. Her inks make everything look soft, with the lack of harsh straight lines, and her coloring makes everything look magical- a gas station, a busy tunnel, a diner- which adds to the magical realism feeling natural to the book, though it only becomes apparent halfway through. And her handwritten lettering makes everything seem personal, which works well with the focus on learning to open up. Walden doesn’t use narration boxes, so there are parts where there’s little to no words at all and it’s just the art carrying the story, which works because her dialogue sounds plausible and natural when it’s there and because she’s so good at using art to convey a mood. It’s interesting to see in some of the process material at the end of the book, how the first attempt at pencils portrayed the world as a lot more solid, and then the second attempt gave it a more more floaty feel with fewer far-back shots that showed a lot of information and instead more specific close ups. There’s certainly lovely scenery throughout the book, but we’re not given full access to it constantly. I borrowed a copy of this from the library.

Dr. Fate (1987) #1-4

This was surprisingly accessible to me as someone new to Dr. Fate comics. At first it seemed daunting to get into, but there were useful explanations of characters’ histories within the story. This mini elicited a ‘wow, this is really messed up’ response in me. It’s not that there’s really graphic content depicted on the page, but that the subject matter of the story is so dark. This book treated this particular superhero and the consequences of his actions very seriously. It’s not something that relies on genre conventions to portray something without how immoral that act would be if it happened in real life, it just goes all the way there. Haunting. And visually the art worked very well to convey the unique magic of the book and the intense themes of the book. I intend to reread this when start reading over Dr. Fate comics.

Shade, the Changing Girl (2016) #1-12

This was a reread so that I could read the follow-up comic for the first time. I absolutely love the ‘magical realism’ in this book, as Loma Shade is affected by the madness, it warps not just her perspective but her reality, distorting the world that she in inhabiting. The story begins with Loma possessing the body of Megan Boyer, a comatose teenage bully, whose life she then has to learn to live in. I really enjoy the character’s journey of adjusting to a new body, as her precious one was avian. A highlight for me was how we’re originally presented with Loma Shade as a character that has issues- patterns of running away and such- as well as some hints about her upbringing being messed up, all of which works on its own, but then halfway through we suddenly get a lot more detail into the world that she comes from, which makes it clear that her personal issues stem from systemic issues on her home planet and didn’t just form in a bubble. Also, woven throughout the narration is excerpts of poetry from her favorite poet, Mac Shade, which had a lovely affect. The first half of the book follows Loma trying to survive the high school environment, and then the second half is her on the run, traveling the country. And throughout the whole book is the other plot line about what’s going on back on Loma’s home planet and what the affects of her traveling to earth are. I think that the second half of the book is probably my favorite. The art, the story, all of it is just lovely and very well done.

Paper Girls (2016) #1-30

I decided to reread this series after watching the trailer for the live action adaptation and being really disappointed with it. I’ll write more on that elsewhere. When I first read the series I waited for each trade to come out and didn’t reread the previous ones when I finally got the next, and it was a really great experience to reread the series over the course of a week. Paper Girls is just so incredibly well-constructed as an overall story. We mainly follow these four 12 year old girls who accidentally get wrapped up in this time travel conflict that so much bigger than them, and they’re just trying to figure out what’s going on and how they can get back home. They start off knowing nothing, as the audience does, and for the most part we’re all piecing it together with them, but we also get some scenes from other parties in the time travel conflict and get so gets some bits of information before they do. But the way that the time travel is using in the plotting, were things are explained or start to make sense often many issues down the line, and even things that weren’t questioned are suddenly given a explanation as everything is demonstrated to be connected, is what impresses me most of all. I like that while you might think that the other parties in the time travel conflict would know a lot more than the girls, by the end we see where they have their blind spots, what they don’t understand about their own conflict that they’re involved in, and the girls by not knowing anything and therefore not thinking that they knows more than they do are actually able to understand it better. Primarily, that they understand that the bloodshed isn’t worth it. There’s a lot of themes in the series that time travel was used really well to explore- generation conflict, can children trust adults, growing up, fate, ect. I also love the main characters, who I don’t feel have exaggerated personalities and instead come across more like real kids. Also Cliff Chiang’s art and Matt Wilson’s colors were just lovely.

#this is objectively factually a more varied selection than the previous week but I am still not satisfied #as I didn't hit a lot of my goals #comics read this past week #my posts

[whoismiaaa]

Writing Initiative #5

This week I presented my 3d and my experimental assignments. I got positive feedback on my 3D assignment. This was the first time that I showed the toys in the box. And I was advised that it worked well in the form of the box rather than the Toys just being left alone. It came across well to my peers that the box resembled the keepsakes on memories box. I was happy with this because I think it helps with the concept of it. Being an older box where you keep all of your old favorite toys. I also got feedback on The title that I put on The Box. And when I came into the class. I would sent her what mediums. I could use it with in a receipt. Feedback on ideas of what I can use to make the tax on the Appear old so It was advised that I could use stamps or stamps. So I'm gonna try and see what works better in. Do that for the title. I also mentioned that I was thinking of writing poems also inside of the box and I did get a bit of refuse on. I had 2 different poems in a got a bit of advice that the shorter and simpler one made more sense with the concept of childhood and toys further I also mentioned that I was thinking of writing poems also inside of the box and I did get a bit of refuse on. I had 2 different poems in a got a bit of advice that the shorter and simpler one made more sense with the concept of childhood and toys. Further it was mentioned that I should ensure that if I do beside to add the poems to my projects. I need to make sure that it is done in a way that does not feel forced. And this was mentioned because I side. That I wanted the poem to possibly continue throughout the project and sort of show that evolving Uber time and how the poem reeds and changes Uber time but since it is not the main part of each of my projects. I will be considering that later on. I think a bit more. But for now I think it does work for both my 2 dimensional and my 3 dimensional projects. So I'm gonna keep it there.

I had also showed my Experimental project in this time. I only had a couple of book of like sprays for the book. My main idea is using that Scrapbook journal sort of photobook thing. Collecting a bunch of memories. It was mentioned that the memory aspects of it is really interesting and something that is very important in essential to all of my projects and that it is very impactful in relationship to my word. With the materials that I'm using for the experimental project I Was unsure about the esthetics of it. What I showed to my peers was sort of a bunch of different esthetics such as having these very old postcards, junk suppose. Next to this like reflective material. Does gardener some really positive feedback. Even though I was a peanut. I was a bit unsure about what was said about it was that. These different esthetics, but next to each other. Feel fairy March like different impossibly. Identity is but more so like finding yourself and also. How like your esthetics and what you like can change over time, so it can also represent that growth. So I'm gonna keep trying to incorporate like a punch of different aesthetics and not really worry about them being so different from each other. I also was not sure about binding the book late. Since call these collected materials were different sizes. I wasn't sure how to bind them. So I did ask my peers about possibly having one page. Size for all the materials are combined into these collages, but it was mentioned that the way put the materials are right now. Being all different sizes and papers actually works really well again relating to these different stages of your life. And the different like esthetics and identities and likes that you can have and your life. So I am gonna keep working on the different sizes of papers and all these different materials. And hopefully that will make the bug a lot more interactive and very representative of like what these collected materials are. The journaling can be in how it can look chaotic in sort of Messy and not very uniform. So I'm gonna lean into that for the rest of my collages.

Moving forward I need to finalize the Text on the box for my 3 dimensional project. And I will also need to look through all of the materials that I have to gathered for the experimental project and create more of these strange colleges so that I can then bind them together.

I also mentioned that I was worried for my reflective piece since I didn't have any ideas for it. For my 4 dimensional piece. I know I wanna do a video sort of film using aspect of all of my projects sort of showing progression of life possibly stop motion but I didn't have anything yet for my reflective.

I also mentioned that I was worried for my reflective piece since I didn't have any ideas for it. For my 4 dimensional piece. I know I wanna do a video sort of film using aspect of all of my projects sort of showing progression of life possibly stop motion but I didn't have anything yet for my reflective.

I also mentioned that I was worried for my reflective piece since I didn't have any ideas for it. For my 4 dimensional piece. I know I wanna do a video sort of film using aspect of all of my projects sort of showing progression of life possibly stop motion but I didn't have anything yet for my reflective.

I also mentioned that I was worried for my reflective piece since I didn't have any ideas for it. For my 4 dimensional piece. I know I wanna do a video sort of film using aspect of all of my projects sort of showing progression of life possibly stop motion but I didn't have anything yet for my reflective.

This conversation was Really insightful, we were talking about like. What could? What else could represent healing like in a different state of life that I haven't yet covered something very important that I. Mentioned I wanted to do was to sort of look forward to the future and not have like send an end chapter sort of. And it was mentioned that if I make like a book or letters or something. I could keep a bunch of like empty pages at the end of it. So, for example, like a journal with a bunch of MT dates for the future. The general idea I don't think will work cause. It is very similar to my Scrapbook that I'm making cause. That also has some journal elements in it. So I won't be doing that exactly. But I did have an idea when you were talking. I was thinking about like letters to your future self. And how that is something that I remember I had to write when I was an elementary school. So I think That that might be an interesting thing to explore a bit more. But I with definitely need to think about that More as it is not Fully developed right now.

[sophiesicelebblog]

Week 11: Sustainable Fashion

How does fast fashion impact me directly?

Confession time! In my 20s I definitely purchased all my clothes from fast fashion brands (H&M and Zara in particular). I was young and didn't have a lot of money but still wanted to feel cute, and that was all I could afford! I just wasn't thinking about the environmental effects at the time, which was clearly a privilege I took for granted. I haven't shopped at those stores in quite a long time, so that's a good first step, but I do have more work to do to decrease my impact environmentally (i.e., I should be going thrift shopping, etc.).

I do also think fast fashion is impacting all of us directly because the environmental effects of mass manufacturing and excessive landfill dumping of discarded garments are surely catching up to us as we speak!

Which celebrity brands are doing the most to address sustainability? Which ones are greenwashing?

I think celebrity brands like Nikki Reed's Bayou With Love (all garments are made in ethical facilities in LA and they use a lot of recycled materials) and Gwyneth Paltrow's Goop G Label (love her or hate her, they make garments that are made to last a long time and will be wardrobe staples throughout shifting fashion trends) are doing some great work. Robin Wright's Pour Les Femmes is another great example; they use leftover materials to produce quality garments on a small scale.

I'm curious to see what my classmates have to say in regards to celebrities that may be greenwashing, because truthfully I don't know that many celebrity clothing brands! One that I have heard about, however, is that Kate Hudson's Fabletics may have had a reputation for greenwashing at one time, but has since converted to more sustainable materials and practices.

Here's a short list of celebrity-owned ethical brands I found:

Thoughts on the viability of mushroom leather:

I think the idea of mushroom leather sounds amazing! It's more durable and absolutely more ethical and eco-friendly than cowhide (or any other animal) leather, and it "can be grown in pieces to the specific shape and size required by a designer, eliminating the need for cutting room waste" (https://www.theguardian.com/science/2021/dec/02/californian-firm-touts-mushroom-leather-as-sustainability-gamechanger). From what I gather, it still has a ways to go before it can become a large-scale solution (in terms of making it available to mass populations and also taking into consideration the cost to purchase it), but it sounds to me like a really wonderful addition to a long list of sustainable practices that we should all be considering.

Now, here are some fast facts and some reflections...

Pretty much every textile is recyclable, but not much of it is actually recycled. I am really big on recycling, and while I think there are more ways I can creatively recycle my clothes, I do have at least one contribution: I always recycle my old denim at Madewell stores, which take them and create new garments with them (and you get a discount on future denim purchases, which is a nice little incentive). It doesn't have to be denim from their store - it can come from anywhere and can be any age - so go forth and recycle!

2.  In the United States alone, over 25 million pounds of clothing end up in landfills or incinerators each year. I absolutely never throw out old clothes! I always donate clothing to a homeless shelter nearby, or in the past I might drop it off at Goodwill as well. My sister and I wear the same size, so we frequently will give each other our clothes to extend the life of the piece when we decide we want to switch our wardrobes up a bit!

3. Younger generations, more cautious about their fashion choices, could become the leaders in sustainable fashion. Like I said above, I know that I have work to do to make my wardrobe more sustainably-sourced. I don't go shopping very often, but when I do I really should be trying to thrift more! I'm so inspired by younger generations giving me this reminder. I'll start searching on apps like Thredup and Rent the Runway, and I'm looking forward to seeing what advice others have on our discussion board! I was also inspired to look up some thrift stores in Miami (where I'll be permanently moving at the end of next month) and found a super cool one called Peachtree Revival. I'm excited to find more and have this become a fun way to creatively express myself without harming the planet!

[sarah-aliterarylife]

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

One of my earliest memories is of finding a treasure trove. I was in my Aunt and Uncle’s house (a beautiful house in a small village outside Wolverhampton, that is still the model for the type of house I would like to live in one day), sitting in front of a gigantic wooden bookcase. Or at least it seemed gigantic, to my young eyes. It was filled with books of every size and colour. Some were very old, leather-bound books, and some were newer editions, with colourful jackets and pictures on the front cover. One title caught my eye instantly. It was bright red, small, and bound in leather. The cover and pages were worn, and it had clearly been read and enjoyed many times. It was called Jane Eyre.

I remember opening the book and reading the small text on the first page. It said, “There was no possibility of taking a walk that day”. Why? I was intrigued. I read onwards. But after a few lines, I was confused. Who was speaking? Was this Jane Eyre? Who were the other people the mysterious narrator mentioned – Mrs Reed, John, Eliza and Georgiana? They couldn’t be Jane’s family, surely? They didn’t share her name. Why was she lurking in the window seat, "cross legged like a Turk?" Why was she observing the family but not joining them around the fireplace? The language stuck in my throat (“The said John and Eliza”) and made no sense. After reading a couple of pages, I put the book down.

The next time I visited, I returned to the treasure trove of books and once again Jane Eyre caught my eye. This time, I asked to take it home with me and started again. I made it a bit further on this second go around, and solved the mystery of who the Reed family were in relation to Jane (Mrs Reed is her widowed Aunt, and the three children are her cousins). I recall being very saddened by the cruelty Jane experiences during her time with the Reed family, and wondering why no one seemed to love this lonely little girl. When Jane is shortly afterwards sent away to Lowood school, I felt a strong sense of injustice when, having finally been given a chance to make friends and spend time around other like-minded children, she is branded a liar and the other children are instructed not to befriend her. I think at this point my sensitive young mind found the novel simply too upsetting, and I decided I couldn’t read another word.

Years later, I attended a university lecture on the concept of the madwoman in the attic. I remembered my previous attempts at reading Jane Eyre, and that shamefully, as a child I had given up on it. I remembered how much I had enjoyed Wuthering Heights and wanted to read something similarly engrossing and dramatic. I suddenly developed an urge to give it another try. But I was in Newcastle upon Tyne, and that beautiful red leather copy was back at home in Walsall (a 3-and-a-half-hour train journey away). So, the next day, I walked to my local book shop, Blackwell’s, and purchased a copy.

That night, I sat down to begin again – this time, I didn’t stop until I had finished. Night after night, I would settle in with the autobiography of Jane Eyre, and I can say without doubt that each new instalment thrilled me. This wasn’t a sad story about intense cruelty, with a terrible denouement for its characters, like Wuthering Heights. It is instead the story of a survivor, of someone who rises above the cruelty and anxiety of her childhood to become a passionate woman with a distinct sense of self-worth. It is also about the internal struggle between Jane’s desire to be loved, and her desire for freedom. After I finished the book, I missed it terribly.

For those who have never read Jane Eyre, it tells the story of an orphaned girl who, when her parents die, is sent to live with her cruel aunt and cousins (the widowed Mrs Reed, John, Eliza and Georgiana), who treat her as less than a servant. After angering the difficult Mrs Reed one too many times, she is sent away to Lowood school, where she befriends the introverted Helen Burns and eventually stays on to work as a teacher. After teaching for two years, Jane longs for new experiences out in the wider world, and accepts a position at Thornfield Manor, where she befriends the housekeeper, Mrs Fairfax, and teaches a lively young girl named Adele. Adele is the ward of Mr Rochester, a mysterious man with whom Jane finds herself falling in love. Jane and Rochester begin a tentative romance which culminates in a marriage proposal. However, on their wedding day, Jane discovers that Mr Rochester is already married: to Bertha Mason, whom he married in Jamaica as a young man. The mentally disturbed Bertha now lives at Thornfield, isolated in the attic with her nurse. Appalled and horrified, Jane flees Thornfield and is forced to sleep outside, penniless and begging for food. She is rescued by the Rivers family, three kindly siblings who take her in and help her to find work at a local school. St John Rivers eventually proposes marriage and a new life overseas as a missionary. However, after hearing Rochester’s voice calling her name one night over the moors, Jane realises that she cannot abandon the man she loves. She returns to Thornfield to find that it has been burnt to the ground by Bertha Mason, and Rochester has been left blinded. At his new residence Ferndean, Jane and Rochester re-build their relationship and eventually marry.

For readers who have read both Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, we can make a series of comparisons between the two works. Both contain elements of the gothic. An isolated house in a moody, windswept location. An anti-hero / love interest in the forms of Heathcliff and Mr Rochester. But while Cathy and Heathcliff’s story ends in tragedy, with the male protagonist made only more bitter by the events of the novel, Jane and Rochester’s story ends happily, with him redeemed and changed by her love. It is important to note at this point that, particularly for readers interested in the feminist aspects of Jane Eyre, that their relationship is reconciled on Jane’s terms. Throughout the novel, Jane largely enjoys economic autonomy, working independently and engaging in useful and worthwhile work as a governess and teacher. She desires a marriage based on love and companionship, not for financial gain or a loveless partnership. Her experiences with Reed family and at Lowood school bestow her with a strong self of her own self worth. When St John Rivers proposes marriage following her split with Rochester, it is based not on feelings on love but a partnership based around a common purpose. She refuses his proposal. Following the reveal of Rochester’s wife in the attic, she also refuses to stay at Thornfield, horrified at the thought of living as his mistress.

That copy of Jane Eyre bought from Blackwell’s bookshop still sits on my bookshelf. It is now missing a front page but is otherwise largely intact. I have returned to it several times over the years. What I love most about Jane Eyre is her ability to survive, no matter what life throws at her. Her influence on my life has been enormous. She showed me that it is possible to survive. No matter what terrible events come our way, we have the ability to survive. Life goes on, whether we like it or not, and we can either choose to move forwards with it or remain trapped within each situation or feeling.

In my life, I have been made redundant several times. I have had two breast cancer scares. My heart has been broken so badly I thought that it would never mend. I have reached out in friendship to people who took advantage of my kindness. I have struggled throughout my adult life with bouts of depression, the most recent of which was so serious that even considering writing about it terrifies me. But somehow, I survived. I chose to survive. A small part of me refused to be beaten. She kept going, chose to get out of bed each morning and hold her head high. She chose to move forwards and choose happiness.

Jane Eyre is a book that everyone should read at least once in their life. In addition to the theme of survival, it is a novel about the struggles between passion and conscience, wanting to belong versus being an outsider, wanting to be loved versus the desire for autonomy. The plot is evenly paced, and it is never boring (despite what my 7-year-old self would have told you!) It is not a difficult novel to read, with such well-developed descriptions of Jane’s emotions that it is hard not to feel moved. Many quotes from Jane Eyre have passed into common parlance. Try these on for size:

“Reader, I married him”.

“I would always rather be happy than dignified”.

“I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself”.

“I am no bird, and no net ensnares me.”

It says a lot about Jane Eyre and its influence on my life, that the last of these quotes now sits on the wall in my study, facing my desk.

At moments when I feel overwhelmed, when I feel anxious, trapped, or when I can feel myself slipping into the dark hole of depression, I take a moment to read that quote and remember that I am an independent human being. My self worth lies in my own hands, not in others. I can stay quiet, as I have done for so many years, or I can use my voice to say the things I want to say. I can wallow and lose myself in my current state, or I can choose to do as Jane does and pick myself up, move forwards and fly away from my troubles.

I choose the latter.

#book blogs #books and literature #books and reading #bookshelf

[l-crimson-l]

how hot - duke of york, perseus, surtr, and pramanix? ty for the food though, its so hard finding even semi-sfw azur lane pics, you truly do us all a service - azurlaneimagines

Mmm Mmm yes comf ship ladies are the best :3 Duke of York Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY Powerful vampire lady with the firepower and drive to obliterate anything you put in front of her? *Chefs Kiss* i haven't 120'd her yet but i do appreciate how her voice lines change after oath. While not one of my top KGV ships def one of my favorites. just don't tell her i also oathed Howe

Perseus Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY  Honestly, Wow. Her art is better than some PR ships! Owls Cools!! But aside from her cute Tsun/introvert act she puts on (before you oath her, bonus points for extra lines after oath) she genuinely seems like someone you’d wanna just spend the day with on a nice fall/spring day just vibin. That aside her whole, Tsun to friendly, thing low-key reminded me of myself (im super introverted before im comfortable with someone) so bonus points there too! Yostar plz give her a comf skin

Surtr Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY HNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG Ya know it wasn't until Reed that i was awakened to Horns and then it was Surtr that took that and added an Unstoppable (if ya do it right) Fire Demon Waifu on top of that and WOW I HAVENT LOOKED BACK

Pramanix Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

I haven’t used her a ton but peeking through her file instantly makes her the first pick for the bookstore trip. Also Top Tier Comf tail?? Plz let me cuddle the tail?? the Mofu Mofu is strong! also lol at her faceplant when you deploy her

Not that you asked but

Ayanami Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

Look. Look. Im weak against petite blonde women. Now make that petite blonde a GAMER ABLE TO ABSOLUTELY ERASE ENEMIES BOTH SIREN AND VIRTUAL ALIKE??? HAVE HER ABSOLUTELY ADORE THE TIME SHE HAS WITH HER FRIENDS AND THE KNOWLEDGE THAT SHE JUST TREASURES AND LOVES EVERYONE SPECIAL TO HER??? MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM... she’s been oathed for a very Very long time. I absolutely love my fun sized Torp Queen <3

#thank you for the ask! #sanguine-spades #crimson answers #azur lane #Arknights #surtr #pramanix #duke of york #perseus #ayanami

[adorehs]

changing your tune

Hi I just wanted to mention that a lot of this might be inaccurate. This is based off of my time in my city's youth orchestra so while I’m sure some things transfer, but not everything. Kinda bad at the end per usual <3

Summary: Classical Musician!Y/N has created a simple life for herself consisting of herself, her music, and the boy she loves. Friends to lovers. (15.6k words)

Warnings: mostly fluff, slight angst, mentions of smut, minor character death. 

“I just think I need to have a fuller tone to really get the dark undertone of the music. Like, it’s so clearly meant to be this dark, horrible travesty but if I can’t get the tone right then it’s just this light and airy travesty. But I can’t bend the note just right, my air is, like, gone,” you vent out. 

Harry watches you intently from where he sat in your study with a hand holding his chin up and an elbow on his knee, “I think it sounds great.”

You look at him unimpressed, “It’s all chalumeau. Of course it sounds good, it just doesn't sound right.” 

“Right, so it’s in the lower register,” he mentally reminds himself, “What’s it supposed to sound like?” 

You let out a sigh and pick up your clarinet from the stand it rested on, “It sounds kind of different without my custom, but the r13 will work for now,” you mumble, adjusting the reed and ligature on your mouthpiece, a nervous tick you picked up in school. 

Your eyes flicker up to Harry, waiting for his glance of approval before you start. Your cheeks expertly swell and decompress in size as you circular breathe through the measures, your mind concentrated on the smooth transitions between rhythms and the registers, cutting the triplets short as you’ve written them. 

The soothing noise of your clarinet fills the large room immediately, your forte becoming all too loud to process any thoughts. The victorian-styled room had low hanging lights that streamed a warm orange tone over the patterned chairs and built-in bookcase that held hundreds of music books with etudes you’ve mastered since your youth. 

Though the warm tones made the room feel homely, the curtains were drawn back and the windows were opened ajar allowing a short breeze to flow in every two minutes. You knew better then to turn on a fan around your hand-crafted instrument. You understood the fluctuation it would cause if the temperature changed drastically day by day. This is why you were careful to turn the air conditioning off before you opened the window, keeping the temperature relatively steady through the day. 

Harry watched you in pure concentration- he was truly enamoured by the way you lost yourself in music. He wanted to understand what you were saying but it was hard- he enjoyed music but was completely deaf when it came to describing the mood of a piece. 

He worked with numbers, and loved it. A born accountant in your presence, watching you play your clarinet with what seems to be ease. But you seemed so distant from him. A whole world away. And how was he going to sweep you off your feet when he can hardly understand your career? 

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as the technique became more difficult, effectively making you let off your clarinet and huff a breath of disapproval. Your heart was clearly pounding after the page you played at full tempo for effect, but you tried not to show the effect the music had on your body. 

You reached for your pencil before erasing a note you had written and writing another one in, a higher register G#. The graphite smeared on the yellow-tinted manuscript book that sat on the music stand before you, everything shaking lightly as vigorously colored in the line and drew in a staccato articulation above the sixteenth note. 

Forgetting Harry’s presence, you picked up your clarinet once again and played the same measure in sets of five, increasing the tempo by four beats each time, before deciding it is satisfactory for now. 

Your face only showed a slight upturn, as you wrote in a new measure, testing how the chord would resolve with some soft air and incomplete vibrations through the wooden block. Minor chord or major? you asked yourself.

Harry’s eyes watched yours as they darted across the room from your clarinet, to your manuscript, to your metronome, which was silently flashing a red light at a tempo of 180 and a subdivision of eighth notes. 

He wondered who taught you so harshly- he’d never seen someone so critical of their own work. You liked to make everything very perfect in a meticulous way- you knew just when to linger on the seventh of a chord to leave an uneasy feeling in the pit of one;s stomach and you were stellar when it came to expressing a story and emotion through your music. At least that’s what Harry thought. 

“So where does your tone need to get fuller?” he asks again.

You looked up at him, slightly shocked. You had forgotten he was there, “When I get higher, like, near the F#. It has no depth to the note and it sounds like a playground piece,” you explain softly, watching as his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“So you want it to sound darker when the octave goes up?” he confirms one more time.

You nod, “Yeah. Want it to sound more emotional and thoughtful. It also makes me sound like a stylistically competent player,” your eyes flicker back to the page in an instant. 

“I think your style is good. You have a good variety in the symphony, too. They’ll like this one. Get the solo down and then ask some people to come and play with you,” Harry comments, rubbing his hands on his corduroy pants as he sits back further in the chair. The heavy fabric makes a dissatisfying pulling noise as Harry moves around in the chair, resting his hands on the dark wooden arms with ornate carvings on the ends. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “They haven’t taken my last three. If I can just make one good one, I can take some more risks and possibly compose a whole symphony,” you pause, making eye contact with Harry again, “But that’ll take years. Probably only when I retire from the orchestra.”

“They are good,” Harry argues weakly. He doesn’t know how to convince you because all he knows is that he likes it. 

“Well clearly they’re not as good as you and I think,” you counter with a huff, picking up your clarinet once more before playing the same piece from the beginning. 

//

After an overextended work week, Harry was excited to go out and have some fun with his friends. He was still a ripe twenty-six year old, working long and hard hours as a starting budget analyst, hoping to be promoted higher within the job and lighten his workload- at least that's what everyone promised will happen. Nevertheless, he still enjoyed the simple pleasures of going out and celebrating his friends. 

It was an all too familiar setting- a sticky, trashed bar with little to no care given to the seats that were falling apart at the seams. He found himself thinking of the frat parties you had described to him when he asked what Greek Life was. 

But, he was there to celebrate one of his colleagues' birthdays. It was her twenty-fifth, so he found himself understanding the want for a big party. The bar might have been trashed but it was large and suitable for the hundreds of people she seemed to invite.

And among the hundreds, he only viewed one. You. 

You wore a dress that you pulled from the back of your closet and hadn’t seen the light of day since you were in college. You wore it to special events and networking parties, but you found it all too nice to wear to most other situations you found yourself in.

Harry had definitely forgotten your connection to his colleague, or better known as your sister. He watched as you greeted her with a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek, an awkward side hug was exchanged as everyone around you both cheered in excitement. You were pretty loved. 

“Happy birthday Mon,” you repeat for the second time that day, “Hope the year treats you well.” 

Your sister smiled in response, “Off to a great start,” she eyes the party reviving behind you, “I’m glad you could make it. Thought you’d have a performance tonight.”

You shook your head, “Nope. Requested this day off a year ago. Couldn’t miss my favorite day of the year!”

Your sister glances at you with a look of amusement, “Happy Monica day is your favorite of the year?”

“Yup, love happy Monica day,” you reiterate. 

Monica opened her mouth to reply but was swiftly cut off by a deep British accent, “Happy birthday Mon!” you hear from behind you.

You turn around quickly, side stepping to allow Harry into your conversation. He leans into your sister before granting her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “How are you?” he asks, replacing your spot in front of her. 

You smile at Monica and halfheartedly wave a goodbye as you slowly make your way over to the bar to order some food. You decided a year ago that you were going to stop drinking. At first, it was a hard choice to make. You were used to having a drink in most social situations, especially being a young adult working with people of all ages. It was a common scene to find you in- an after party with hundreds of musicians having a glass of champagne or white wine in celebration. 

You sat yourself on a deep crimson stool, swirling slightly as you waited for your sliders to be given to you. Watching as people met and reconnected was isolating for you. You knew very few people Monica worked with and found yourself just shy of saying hi to someone who looked friendly every time you were at a gathering such as this one. 

Nodding a silent thank you as your sliders were placed in front of you, your attention shifts. It was the loud talking and blaring music that made your brain want to go into overdrive, never quite getting used to noises you couldn’t control. 

“Hi, Y/N,” you feel a body slide into the seat beside you. You couldn’t exactly pin whose voice it was at first listen so you shift your body towards them and slide the plate between you two as a peace offering. 

“Hey,” you reply, making eye contact with one of Monica’s friends you met when she first started working at the firm. 

“How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I’m alright, Louis. And yourself?” 

“I’m quite alright. Been working a lot. Itching to get promoted,” he lets out a small laugh, “But who isn’t.”

You shoot him a grin, “Not sure, I love my job.”

“When’re you playing next? Love to come see you play. Haven't been to the new show yet,” he leans in towards you and takes a slider before leaning back again. 

“Play Thursday to Sunday every week until November. Then we switch to Christmas ballets,” you tell him with a grin, “I recommend Thursday or Sunday, though. Best prices and best crowd.”

He nods in confirmation, “I’ll have to take Harry with me, know he’s been bugging me to go with him for a while.”

“Yeah, bring him! It’ll be fun, we can all go out after too!” you counter, dismissing Louis' comment about Harry’s insistent nature. That was just him, you thought. 

“Definitely,” he agrees, “Plus it’s a nice way to unwind. I’ll definitely see if I can come soon.”

“Oh, please! I love seeing a familiar face. Feel like I play better,” you laugh, “Still get nervous, but Harry always tells me I’ll do amazing.”

“Harry’s good at that,” Louis agrees, “Always makes sure you don’t undersell yourself. And he’s right! You’re amazing.” 

You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, “Thank you! He’s definitely everyone's biggest cheerleader,” you joke. Turning around entirely in your stool, your eyes sift quickly through the crowd in search of Harry. “See, there he is,” you chortle, “Hyping up Niall as he chugs a,” you squint.  

“A beer, probably,” Louis completes for you. 

You both laugh and watch as Niall shoots up from his spot on the ground in victory before immediately falling back onto the ground with great dramatics. The room roars as Harry helps his friend stand back up and walks him over to the bathroom before swinging the door back open, “Ladies and gentlemen,” he pauses for effect, “The boy lives!” 

The room once again falls into a unison form of laughter as Niall appears behind Harry moments later, “Where’s the beer?” he shouts over the laughs, which quickly turn into cheers at his sportsmanship. 

While Louis lets out a loud laugh at his friend's antics and moves towards the crowd to see more clearly, you looked up towards Harry. He dressed himself impressively well considering his lack of knowledge in the arts. Though he wore a simple outfit consisting of a red button up and black jeans, his confidence soared higher than anyone else’s you’d seen in a while. 

His smile was infectious and seemed to fill his whole face and as his eyes raised to meet yours it grew to a tenfold. Speaking with his body language, you somehow sensed that he wanted you to get up and join him. 

You shook your head with a smile and mouthed ‘I’m fine here!’ only to receive a ‘What!?’ in response. You shook your head in defeat and stood up, mouthing the same phrase only slower. 

Harry replied with a look of realization and instantaneously, a pout replaced his smile. You frowned at your effect on him, not wanting him to feel upset because of you of all people. 

You stood up and slowly started making your way over to him, allowing the smile to rediscover its place on his lips. He was watching you near him, when his head suddenly snapped towards a high pitched scream coming from your sister, “It’s midnight!” she shouts. 

Harry chuckles at her dramatics and smiles when he feels your body press up against his side. He didn’t have to look to know it was you, he could smell your distinct perfume as you neared him and he was happy knowing you found comfort around him- though that should’ve been clear from the nights upon nights you spend together, him listening to your music and you listening to his rants. 

Monica was handed a bottle of champagne and she stepped into the middle of the corner you all occupied, people filing in suit around her and forming a circular crowd. 

“Hey everyone! Uh- thank you so much for coming- I mean it. It means a lot to me to be surrounded by a bunch of people I love on my favorite day of the year!” She jokes, earning some light laughs and a few words of endearment thrown back at her. “No, seriously, thanks a lot, and,” she trails off, her thoughts too blurry for her planned speech, “Here’s to twenty five!” she cheers, shaking the champagne bottle, allowing it to pop and spray all over. She quickly spins in an attempt to spray everyone, but the champagne bubbles over and only gets half the group. 

You and Harry both laugh, shaking your hands to get the sticky substance off your bodies. “She tries every year and never succeeds,” you tell him.

He chuckles in response, “She gets too drunk to remember.” 

“Or she just thinks that she’s sober enough to get it this year,” you laugh back. 

Harry laughs and nods, “Definitely. She thinks she’s perfectly fine,” he points at Monica who is going around the circle and hugging everyone in thanks. “To be fair she looks okay,” he adds. 

“She always does,” you agree with Harry.

The two of you fall silent and you stand back watching your sister make rounds. Harry’s hand creeps onto your back as he steps closer to you, bringing you in front of him. He hums along to the song you couldn’t remember the name of that was blaring on the speakers and he basks in the glory of being in your presence. 

Soon enough, your sister had made her way over to the two of you, hugging you both and exchanging her thanks for coming and just as quick as she came, she left you two alone. 

“So, uh,” Harry starts.

“Hey, um, I’m gonna leave. Got an early start tomorrow,” you tell Harry, pointing at the door. 

“Oh, yeah, definitely. Yeah, you should go,” he stammers.

You smile at him, “Okay, cool. I’ll see you later?” you asked, stepping towards Monica to say a final happy birthday and goodnight. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he nods in confirmation. 

You wave before finding your sister and saying goodnight, then driving yourself back home. 

//

Harry was sitting in bed with his laptop on his lap and a blanket covering his legs. He was doing some research in an attempt to find books that could teach him about music theory. 

He told himself he wanted to be more involved in his friends' lives and further his education in one of his weakest subjects- music. But in reality, it was clear to those around him that he wanted to impress you and be more involved in your life and yours only. They had never seen him pick up a book on physical therapy or take a quick online course on python- he was doing it all purely for you. 

He was contemplating if he should invest in a book or just take a free online course, both seemed like viable options but he wanted to optimize his time. He wanted to make it click faster. 

He decided he’d try the online course and take his chances and if he still didn’t understand he would invest in a book. 

So there he was on a Tuesday evening sitting in bed with his headphones in learning how basic chords were made. He wrote notes as if he was still in school and studied them after each lesson. He wasn’t fully immersed in the world like you were, but he felt as though he could carry a bit more of a conversation with you about music, especially when compared to before. 

Harry was learning slowly but surely and in about a week he could, in theory, explain how to develop a minor chord from it’s major among various other basics (that you would probably think were common knowledge) but he had no recollection of learning. 

As per usual, he spent every Monday and Wednesday evening with you. On Mondays, you would have movie night and on Wednesdays, he would get some work done in your office while you played. It never truly distracted him, either. Honestly, it made him feel very peaceful and he found that the routine was more about being in the presence of each other rather than making memories. 

One Wednesday, he had completed his work early and as usual, he would sit and see what you had composed to help give his limited input on your compositions. 

Typically, he would sit and listen silently with a slight tilt to his head while he thought up a thoughtful comment about your playing. You would always sit there anxiously, with your posture beginning to slouch since you were not playing anymore, waiting for a comment that you both knew would be neither helpful or negative. 

Harry was good at that. He was good at making you feel like you were doing good with absolute sincerity and not a single waiver of his voice. His face would stay straight and he would find the good in it all. It was probably your favorite part of the man who sat with you on the particular day. 

This time, unlike the last, your window was shut tight and you were trying your hardest to keep your hands steady. You couldn’t make the piece sound right. It sounded okay but that would not get you signed. It needed to be calculated and perfect in a theoretical standpoint. It also needed to be simple enough to split into parts for larger groups but difficult enough to have solo excerpts from each instrument- in case a full orchestra didn’t work. 

And that was difficult to accomplish. 

Harry knew that and he agreed- how could one person who hadn’t ever been signed make such an elaborate piece? He thought it was absolutely absurd that to maximize your chances you had to make the piece a combination of just about everything. 

You sat with the same face as you usually did, one pleading for some sort of advice or criticism. What you weren’t expecting was for Harry to deliver. 

“Think if you made it a minor chord instead of a major and ended on the seventh it could bring some edge,” Harry eventually says. 

Your eyes widen slightly in confusion, “Yeah, uh, let me try that,” you stammered. 

You covered what you had written with a sticky note, drawing on the new scale. You showed Harry the note and asked him if that was what he was thinking, to which he replied yes. You nod lightly and play the piece once again from the beginning, swaying slightly as you approached lyrical bits and narrowed your air stream to control your volume. 

Harry nods along with your playing, pausing slightly in places he could tell you didn’t like much. Eventually, he watches as you play what he had suggested, anxiety rising up his throat in fear of not being accepted. 

“Think I like it. But I need to fix some of the other stuff too,” you told him once you finished. “It would definitely feel right that way.”

Harry nodded and stood up. He rounded the long desk and joined you where you sat by the window in an uncomfortable chair made to help keep your posture near perfect. He crouched down so he could be eye level with your music and furrowed his brows.

You watched as he read the notes carefully, taking his time as he took in each technically challenging measure and the lyrically soft measures in contrast. You grew anxious for his approval so you busied yourself by taking the sticky note off of the manuscript and erasing and redrawing the notes for the new scale Harry advised you to add.

You took your time, slowly coloring each eighth note, the graphite crumbling down the page, leaving a light smear as you wiped it away with the side of your hand.

Harry looked up at you, “I think you should change this,” he points, “Make it flat and get rid of this note entirely,” he spoke slowly. You watch as his finger indicates each note and you nod along softly.

“Okay, I’ll try,” you agree.

He nods in response and rests his hand on your thigh, you hardly notice the action that felt natural in the moment.

You temporarily wrote in each suggestion and played the piece again from the beginning, a process the two of you were becoming increasingly annoyed with. As you approached the measure he had pointed out, your mind wondered: how did he know all this and why didn’t he mention any of it before?

Your air slowed down as your mind wandered and your fingers followed closely after, a ritardando, Harry noted. He hadn’t mentioned tempo but he found that bringing the piece down to cut time brought a new feeling that he couldn’t put his finger on.

Abruptly, you stopped, and Harry knew you didn’t realize. You both sat in silence for a moment before Harry stood up and moved back over to where he was sitting previously. He cleared his throat, “I’m gonna head out. Good luck Y/N,” he rushed out. 

You shook your head in disbelief. You truly didn’t understand what just happened. But, you shook it off and tried again, keeping the ritardando. 

Harry on the other hand, was in a state of panic. He had realized what he had done and he thought she did too, resulting in her abrupt stopping point. 

Harry had begun to understand that he was in love with you. And he didn’t know until just then. But he had done everything just for you. 

//

The following Sunday Harry finally managed to drag Louis out of his city apartment and downtown to the Meyerson Symphony Center where you were to perform Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Neither Harry or Louis have seen you perform this particular show so they were late to learn that you had auditioned for and successfully got the clarinet solo in a particular piece from the Symphony named Scherzo.

You had explained to Harry your appeal to this particular symphony- you found it to be unique of all the others that accompanied Shakespeare's work. Instead of relaying a difficult emotion or putting a satirical spin on a human issue like his other works did, you found Midsummer to be a pure romp into romance and the abnormalities of love. 

And though you hadn’t been in love for a while, you found yourself feeling the emotion wholly through both the piece and music in it of itself. 

Harry had read midsummer before- in fact he had seen it live with his mum and sister when he was younger, but he never understood the effect the music had on the play. He never looked into the contextualization of the play, let alone the deeper aspirations of it. 

He understood music theory but he still had trouble analyzing music itself. He couldn’t pinpoint moods by just listening- he needed to see it written out which he believed hindered his ability to enjoy music to its fullest extent.

Needless to say, Harry entered the theater with Louis with a thought of determination. All he wanted was to find a way to understand the music and appreciate it as you did. They were both clad in matching suits, a simple black and white for the symphony, and made their way to the middle where their tickets directed them. Harry sat in the aisle and Louis sat right next to him, whispering in excitement of the show. 

“I fucking love this story,” Louis says.

Harry lets out a quiet laugh, “I hardly remember it.” 

Louis joins Harry in laughter and shrugs, “Oh well, it’ll still be good.”

Harry nods in agreement and turns away from Louis as the curtains open and the lights dim.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen you on this stage, but he found himself mesmerized as he found you with his eyes. He watched as you scanned the crowd quickly, your eyes jumping past him and Louis a few times before you recognized your friends. You shot them each a relieved smile and sat up straighter in your chair. 

The conductor cast a smile at everyone before beginning the first piece, the Overture making its debut in the room. Just as Harry was used to, the melodic sounds filled the room to the brim, every last corner feeling the pure emotion that was put into the piece. 

Harry couldn’t describe the feeling but he knew he was proud. He understood that watching you in your element is probably the worst thing he could do for himself, but he had to. It was pure torture to watch you fall in love with something that wasn’t him, but he loved the way it happened.

You lost yourself so easily and he felt as though you were the loudest in the room. He could hear your sound over everyone else's, your instrument being isolated from all the others in his mind. Harry could swear he had never been so proud in his life to see someone do what they love. 

As the overture came to a close, his hands met in applause and he felt the need to stand up just so you would know how much he loved it. But as quickly as he started, he stopped his applause and the next piece was beginning. 

No. 1 Scherzo. It was the second piece on the track and your personal favorite for reasons you would not disclose to Harry. He had heard you practice it a few times before, nodding along as he recognized fragments of the piece. 

It was around three minutes into the piece when Harry learned why it was your favorite. Because it was just you. You were the only one playing- your solo bringing tears to his eyes. It was just that moment when you looked up and made eye contact with Harry, him nodding with a large grin on his face with reassurance, you’re doing amazing, it read. 

When you looked back up at your music, your eyes narrowing in concentration, you failed to notice the look on Harry’s face. His phone had buzzed and he found himself confused- he was sure he put it on silent. The feeling that was elicited was nothing but good, so he decided to go check just for some peace of mind.

He stood up, pointing at his phone when Louis questioned him silently, gaining a nod of approval as Harry exited the theater in a rush. 

The second he exited the room that was beginning to become overly stuffy and constricting, he took a deep breath and told himself you’re probably just overreacting. 

Harry was anywhere from overreacting. It was that exact moment that he had received a text that was pushed through do not disturb. The text was from his mum and read nothing but horrible news. The five words that found themselves on his screen that illuminated his face as he stood right next to the door called him a coward. They read: This contact has dialed 999.

Harry understood the severity of the situation but he didn’t know what to do. All he knew is that she called- he didn’t know why or where she was. He didn’t know if he had to book a flight back home or not. 

Just as Harry was getting up and leaving for his own agenda, you had finished your solo. You looked up once again, hearing the applause and searching for Harry once more. But this time, you found Louis sat alone with a large grin creeping across his face and his applause filling the space next to him. 

You had never felt as hurt as you did in that moment. He had left you. Harry, the man you now realized you love, found something more important than you and your aspirations, and there was no physical way that it wouldn’t sting. What you didn’t know was that as your heart was breaking, Harry’s mum’s was. 

//

It had taken two hours for someone to answer the phone. Two hours for Harry to spend most of his savings on a red eye to the London airport. Ten hours for him to touch down in London. Three to make his way to the hospital next to his childhood home. 

He was distraught to say the least. 

He had left without mention of what was happening, his phone exploding with texts from Louis and Monica making sure he was okay, but not a word from you. He felt betrayed, but he understood. You had things going on too and he wasn’t the center of your universe. 

The hospital looked sterile, not a single thing out of place. The walls were coated in a pristine white color that nearly blinded Harry’s bloodshot eyes, and he spent a few minutes catching his breath before he asked where his dad was. 

He walked sluggishly onto the elevator, the weight of reality crushing him as he waited for what seemed like ages but really was hardly forty seconds for the elevator to jolt to a stop. When it stepped off, he saw what he imagined to be organized chaos.

People were walking quickly up and down the lengths of the corridor and he found himself passing by far too many crying people to think anything good could ever happen in a hospital- not revival nor birth. 

He walked the length of the corridor in silence, taking in his surroundings. He was in shock- he could hardly even process that he was in England, let alone why he was there. It was only when he stopped shortly at the sight of his mum and sister sleeping, their heads resting on each other's, that he realized the severity of what was happening. 

And so, with a deep breath, he sat down on the floor before them, resting his back lightly against the leg chairs and he rested his forehead on his knees. It didn’t seem like his life that he was living- he felt like this was all a vivid dream, but it wasn’t. It was less than twenty four hours ago that he was with Louis watching your performance and now he sat with his family outside of his father's hospital room praying he would be okay. 

Harry was one of hopeful thinking and that was made apparent when a doctor exited his father's room with a stack of papers.

Harry was the first to stand, followed by his mother and sister, who were unsure of when he had arrived. He shook hands with the doctor, who he learned was named doctor Wilson. He was clad in the same scrubs as every other doctor but Harry found his to be a special type of unattractive- or maybe that was his subconscious distracting himself from the situation at hand. 

Doctor Wilson cleared his throat as Anne made her way next to Harry, Gemma shielding herself from the news from behind him, “So,” he cleared his throat “Mr. Styles came in about a year ago to have his lungs screened, as you may know, and he was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer,” he nodded. 

“Well, Mr. Styles seems to have,” he left a pregnant pause in his sentence, “He seems to have the cancer cells spreading rapidly. We would like to put him on a self contained respirator and monitor him closely to give you some more accurate information about his cancer and give you some answers within a few hours,” he says slowly. 

Harry shook his head in disbelief- his father had never mentioned cancer let alone a screening. 

“Thank you doctor,” he heard Anne speak from behind him. He sent a last glance at the broken family and moved back into the room. 

//

It was the first you had heard from him in about half a week. He had called you on Wednesday after not answering your messages asking if he will make his way over on Monday for your movie night. 

“Hi,” you answer softly. 

“Hey- uh,” you heard some shuffling, “Hey.”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion, “Are you coming over?” 

There was a long pause on Harry’s end and you just about opened your mouth to confirm that he could hear you when he replied, “No,” he said shortly. “I- uh- I’m at home.”

“Do you want me to come over?” you asked in confusion.

“No, like, I’m in the UK,” he quickly corrected you.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, leaving a pregnant pause on your end, “Oh,” you replied. 

“Yeah, I-” you could hear a few other voices in the background and you imagined they were his mum and sister, “My dad- he’s not doing so good. He has stage four lung cancer.”

“Oh,” you let out again. “I- uh- sorry, I really just don’t know what to say right now.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle, which you could tell had bitter undertones, “That’s alright… don’t exactly know what to say myself.”

“I- uh- I’m really sorry,” you tell him sincerely, “God I feel like such an ass,” you expressed. 

Harry’s eyes furrowed in confusion and he looked up at his mum to ensure she wasn’t listening, “No need, I promise it’s fine you don’t have to say anything.”

“I just- I was so mad at you for leaving and not saying anything and ignoring me. Thought I did something wrong or you were mad at me,” you explain. “Didn’t know what was going on and I was scared that I lost you.”

“Couldn’t lose me if you tried,” Harry laughed softly, you joining his laughter momentarily. 

“Are you still mad I didn’t tell you I was going?” Harry asked after a long moment of silence.

“No- not at all. Was mainly just worried,” you reassure him, “I totally understand,” but you didn’t. How could he not tell you? Did he not think you deserved to know why he left when you were playing for him?

“I’m really sorry. Kinda just fell off the face of the Earth for a few days. Was anticipating the news and trying to stay strong for my mum and Gemma,” he explains. 

Before you could reply, Harry starts again, “Hey, uh, we’re going back to the hospital so I’ll talk to you later, alright?” he says quickly before hanging up and leaving you alone in your study, clarinet in front of you. 

You truly didn’t know how to cope with what just happened- it felt like heartbreak on two spectrums- family and lover. But he was neither, which hurt even more. 

You picked up the piece of handcrafted wood that sat in front of you and tried your hardest to pour your heartbreak into the piece- adding pain, edge, and suffering to the nearly- done piece in an attempt to exert your feelings into something productive. 

It worked like a charm, which was something you felt bad mentioning. You found yourself falling in love with the piece, fractures of your heart making up every line and the composition falling right into place as your muse fell right apart across the world.

It was the next morning when you received the message from Harry: He’s gone. In his sleep. I’ll be home in a week. Gotta sort some things out. -H

//

Harry arrived home that following Tuesday and he was exhausted but grateful to be back to his tiny townhouse in the middle of a city with his friends surrounding him. 

He felt as though coping wasn’t an option anymore- he had taken up a whole week for that and in this moment in time he felt as though he had already done enough coping. 

There was a memorial service the weekend after his father died and to say Harry’s family were crushed would be an understatement. 

Anne, Gemma, and Harry each had prepared a speech for the service and none of them felt as though they could do the senior Styles any justice. He was a good man and they couldn’t even begin to explain that to everyone there. Nobody could understand the pain in the same way as they did, so they did their best to remember him in the best light. 

Harry was mainly happy for one thing- the following day was Wednesday. He had taken off the rest of the week so he could recover from any jet lag and start the new week back with a fresh start, so he knew that tomorrow would be a great day to catch up. With work and with you.

He hadn’t seen a single person since he was back but upholding the tradition was important to him. He favored you over most all his friends anyway, so when he parked his old car in the driveway of the large house you inherited from your grandparents, he was excited. 

He knocked twice and rang your doorbell once,queuing you to open the door in shock less than a minute after. “What are you doing here?” you ask confused, pulling Harry into a long hug. You had missed him on his ten days of abstinence from you. 

“Got back yesterday, can’t skip out on tradition,” he shoots you a smile, letting go of your warm embrace. You took a moment to look at him before deciding he wanted a distraction from everything going on in his life. 

You open the door further, beckoning him to come in, “Well come on, I need your opinion on my piece,” you gesture towards your office dramatically. 

Harry chuckles and bows in thanks, “After you,” he says with a posh accent. 

You both laugh, heading inside to where your things were set up and ready to go. He sat down in the same chair as he always does and you round the desk to sit where your clarinet was standing and your manuscript laid. 

“Okay, so I added, kind of a lot, while you were gone,” you warm him. 

He nodded and gestured for you to play, “Well go on then. Show me what you added,” he crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. 

You glanced at Harry and your music a few times each in an attempt to correlate the two in your mind- this was your Harry and he would never hurt you. You began to play the piece that you had become sickly familiar with but Harry found himself utterly perplexed at the sound of a new beginning. You had nearly changed the entire beginning and Harry loved it.

He found it to be oddly comforting to listen to you for what felt like the first time ever but in reality it was just another sense of stability in the world you two had created- the world that was exclusively Harry and Y/N. 

The moment you reached the end, a bit he had helped you with, you found yourself stumbling over your composition, making Harry's brow furrow together. You were a perfectionist when it came to music- you loved the control that came with being able to play flawlessly and change how it all came together and he found it odd that you of all people were messing up something you had written in for weeks. 

“Sorry,” you let out a huff, running a hand through your hair, “I’m really stressed and it’s really making this all worse.”

Harry nodded in understanding, “You should take a break,” he tells you with full seriousness. 

You look at him with a blank face for a moment before bursting out into laughter, “You can’t be serious.”

Harry looked at you confused, “I’m serious.”

“Harry this is my job. This is equivalent to me getting a promotion. I can’t stop!” you explain harshly.

Harry nodded, “I understand. Just-” he paused, “Just come with me, okay?” 

“No, Harry, I can't, I have to do this,” you stood your ground. 

“Y/N,” he spoke firmly, “If you hate this and want to kick me out for a week and let you compose on your own after this, you can. Just come.”

You let out a sigh and deliberated your options, “Fine. But there is a high chance you’re not showing up at my door for a week,” you point an accusatory finger at Harry.

He raises his hands in defense, “Okay, noted. Let’s go slowpoke,” he teased. 

You flashed him your middle finger and a toothy grin before packing up your clarinet and setting it on your desk. You follow Harry out to his car and get in the passenger seat as he starts the car and makes his way out of your neighborhood. 

“Can I ask where we are going?” 

“Patience is a virtue,” Harry replied, making you roll your eyes dramatically. 

“You’re so annoying,” you reply. 

“You love me,” he states smugly, making your eyes grow the size of saucers. 

“Not right now I don’t” you tease once you recover from your previous state of shock. 

Harry shakes his head and says, “Home Depot. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

You wondered why he could be taking you to Home Depot of all places- not getting food or going shopping to find another piece of clothing you don’t need. 

Harry parked easily before exiting the car, you follow after him in a haste. You have to job to catch up with Harry who seems to be walking a mile a minute to get into the building, “What the fuck are we doing here?” you ask again. 

“We,” Harry says, pointing at the two of you, “Are going to paint that white wall in your office,” he says with a smile.

Your face mirrors his, a grin of your own making its way across your face. You had mentioned to Harry months ago that you were itching to paint the room but you never made the time for yourself to do that. 

This time, it was you who took the lead, teasing Harry for taking too long to make his way into the store. You find your way to the back of the store where you see a few employees mixing paint for customers and you find your way to the pantone swatches, Harry immediately picking up a brown one, “I think it’ll match the wood, no?” 

You laugh and shake your head, “No I want it to be your hair color.”

Harry’s mouth opens in realization before grabbing another strip. He squints, reading the name aloud, “Werge,” he says confused. 

You fall into a fit of laughter before moving down the wall to look at the blues, the color you were actually hoping to get. 

With Harry’s unwillingness to be serious and your contagious laughs, it took you forty five minutes to find the color you had seen online a few months ago and had screenshotted on your phone. 

You make your way over to an employee and ask for a gallon of the deep navy color, paying and making your way back into Harry’s car within a few minutes. 

Your knee was bouncing in anticipation on your way home and you didn’t realize until Harry rested his palm on it, asking you, “What’s got you so nervous?” to which you reply:

“Not nervous, just excited.”

Harry chuckled and kept his hand there for the rest of the ride to your house, which you found to be far too close then you wanted it to be. 

You both found yourselves in your garage loading your arms with painters tape and tarp to ensure your room is painted to perfection and not too messy afterwards. 

You spilled some paint into the tray and used a roller to begin putting the fresh paint on the middle of the wall. Harry gasps when he sees the color in contrast with the wood that covered every other wall in the room, “It matches so well,” he comments, using a smaller brush to begin on the bottom strip of the wall where the painters tape stuck.

He sat on the floor, his legs crossed beneath him, and you stood a few feet to his left, the paint sitting between the two of you. 

You nod, “I know, it compliments the wood really well.”

Harry shakes his head, “Not the wood. I meant it matches my eyes,” he draws out. 

You roll your eyes and let out a shut up before looking at him. 

“Seriously,” he persists, setting his head next to the gallon that sat on the floor. 

You raised your eyebrows and nodded slowly, dipping your roller back onto the tray, allowing the residue to fall off before you rolled a bit on his face and shirt. 

“What the fuck?” he laughs, sitting up immediately. 

“I had to check!” you exclaim innocently. “You know, now that I look, I think you’re right. It does match, we should use more,” you conclude. 

“Now that I look,” Harry starts, with an evil glint in his eye, “I think this is the color your shirt is missing,” he concludes, flinging his brush in your direction allowing the paint to fall on your face and shirt. 

“Oh my god!” you shout as Harry doubles over in laughter.

You bring your brush into the paint once more, taking a threatening step towards Harry. He flinches, making you chuckle and redirect the paint onto the wall again, making him breathe a sigh of relief. 

He begins again on the bottom edge and before you could think you're safe, Harry gets paint on your ankle from where he sat on the floor. 

You let out a loud gasp, “This is war!” you exclaim. 

“Or you can just admit that you needed a break,” Harry shrugs, “It’s quite simple.”

You narrow your eyes and look at him, “I am going to cover you in paint. It’s quite simple,” you mock him childishly. 

He shakes his head with a laugh before painting the rest of your ankle, making a ring around your foot. 

It had taken two hours to complete painting the wall and to complete your paint war. You and Harry found yourselves in your backyard while your sprinklers were spraying the grass. 

“Best way to clean,” Harry breathed out. 

“You say you’re one with nature but what are you going to say when my grass is blue?” you ask him as you scrub at your legs to get off the paint. 

“I’ll say part of me is really with nature this time,” he says shaking the water out of his hair as he walks towards the hose that was attached to the side of your house. 

You shake your head in disbelief, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say, looking at Harry as he walks towards you with the hose gushing water out. 

You step towards him and let him spray you down and you watch as the paint falls off your skin and into the grass, your shirt clinging to your body. 

Harry tries to keep his attention on your face and not on the black bra that begins to show from your wet shirt that stuck to your body like a second skin. 

You fiddled with the fit of your shirt, trying to make sure you were comfortable, before scrubbing your arms and legs clean. 

Harry and you had decided after the first hit that you would do your best to avoid each other's faces just to make everything easier when it came to cleaning. 

You rinse your hair fully before deciding you're as clean as you’d get without using a proper shower (which you didn’t want to turn blue from the paint), so you stepped towards Harry with your arm extended towards him. 

“My turn,” Harry says softly, handing you the hose before spreading his arms out and letting the water hit his entire body, “This feels nice,” he comments. 

“You’re crazy,” you reply. Harry shakes his head and takes his shirt off in an attempt to get everything off and you almost look away instinctively- you weren’t supposed to see your friend like this. 

He allows the pressure of the hose to get most of the paint off his body but he seems a bit carefree about the cleanliness of his body at this point- you’re assuming this is the distraction you both needed from your mundane lives. 

Harry finishes off with the hose and you run inside to grab the two of you towels, opting to stay outside for the rest of the night. 

You both sit outside on the back porch swing that sat in your yard, wrapped in towels so you don’t get too cold in the autumn air. “You were right,” you mutter, leaning your head onto his shoulder. 

“About?” Harry edges you on and you can practically hear him smiling through his words. 

“I needed a break.”

//

What felt like a year was only two months and in those two months you had accomplished what you had been attempting since eighteen. You finished what seemed to be the perfect piece from a technical standpoint. 

It told a story of betrayal and heartbreak and it included a plethora of twists in tone and changes in tempo and unresolved keys to add edge and lead the listener on. The piece, in theory, was among the most perfect ones written. 

At least that's what Harry told you and that's what you tried to tell yourself. 

You had just finished the process of getting it all recorded, recruiting some of your friends from the orchestra to take home your manuscript that you wrote in harmonies and new melodies to. 

You spent a week editing the music together, sending recordings back, asking for retakes, and adjusting volumes, tempos, and tone before you were satisfied with the music. 

All in all, it was a musically complex and fundamentally difficult piece that could be extended into a show or turned into a series of simpler solos- whatever would get your music sold to a publisher, you were willing to do. 

You had contacts from your previous attempts at selling your compositions, contacts that rejected you but told you to come back if you had something new. You did not take the suggestion lightly. 

You had mastered an email with your pitch- stating your name and your credentials, attaching a file of the piece, along with the score which separated individual parts and showed their dynamic together. It was your life's work and a story you were excited to sell, and that is why you were particularly excited when you received an email back the following week.

The email, in short, explained that a publisher would like to meet with you and is interested in helping you publish the music and help you get on the radar of a symphonic orchestra. 

You were a giddy mess leading up to your meeting, your leg shaking in anticipation and your heart beating so loud you swear you could feel it in your throat. So, when it arrived it felt surreal. 

You stepped into the tall building in a haze, your hands clutching onto your score and your body clad in your favorite orchestral dress that you find to be the one you wear to the majority of your auditions. You call it your good luck charm. 

The receptionist was short and directed you to the fifth floor and gave you strict instructions to wait to be called in by Flynn Bradford’s assistant. You sat in the waiting room with a warm overcoat covering your body in the meantime. 

When you got called up your hands began to sweat. You find your way into Bradford’s office and with a nervous step forward, you take your jacket off and sit down on the small chair before his desk.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduce yourself with a handshake, Bradford immediately recognizing your name. 

“Flynn Bradford, a pleasure,” he returns with a friendly smile. 

He was a middle aged man with a few silver hairs peeking through, but he wore a friendly smile and seemed very composed nonetheless. He took your score and opened it immediately. He looked over it in silence for a few moments, you sitting on the edge of your seat. 

“I do have to say, Ms. Y/L/N, I was waiting to meet you so I could go over this with you. I think you’re a brilliant composer,” he speaks slowly. 

You swallow harshly, “Thank you so much,” you gush, “I’ve been at it since I was a kid so I’m glad you liked it.”

He nods again, sifting through the pages, “And I have to say I’m impressed by the tone in the demo and the overall markup of the piece. I think there are a few minor changes that we’d like to see done but all in all I think it’s good.”

You nod your head quickly, “Of course and I was expecting to do so. I- uh- how many changes are we thinking about here?”

“Well it’s still your piece, so quite minor ones just to increase your chances of having it sold to a school or a symphony. Or, you could keep it how it is but that might not be the easiest to sell.”

“Right, so hypothetically, if I get all the changes done and we’re satisfied within a few weeks, it can go off to you?” you ask in shock.

“It seems to be that way, yes. I’ll send you a contract and some markups once I get to talk with my team about this. It would be best to get your own lawyer to look over this for copyright purposes and to make sure you’re alright with all the fine print,” he advises. 

“Yes, I will definitely do that, yeah. Thank you so much,” you reiterate. 

He hums a reply and hands you back your score with a tight lipped smile, “So this meeting was a bit quicker and the other might be too depending on what you like and want. Remember all the corrections we send are suggestions so you do what you want and we’ll be alright with whatever you choose to do,” he reminds you. 

You nod and shake his hand once more, leaving the building with bright eyes and a winning score in your hands. 

The first instinct you had as you sat back into your car was to call Harry but you were so overwhelmed with excitement you decided that going to see him at his house would be a better idea. 

After all, he deserved to be the first person to know because he helped you so much when it came to the composition of this piece. 

You were smiling incredibly wide as you made your way over to his townhouse in the city. His complex was very modern, a clear juxtaposition to your victorian styled home, but you welcomed it warmly. You enjoyed the prospect of having a place to go that is more minimal in comparison to your cluttered property. 

It was hardly fifteen minutes before you parked outside of his home, your car finding its normal spot in the driveway of his garage. 

Your legs carried you faster than you could have imagined, rushing you to the front of his house and your hand pounded against his door with a sense of urgency.

Harry took his time making his way downstairs, a towel around his waist and an impatient girl he had hardly met waited in his bed upstairs. 

He opened his door slightly, allowing his head to peek out of the small crack he created, “Hey!” he exclaimed when he realized it was you. 

“Hi! Can I come in?” you ask excitedly. 

“I’m not exactly decent,” his hand scratches the back of his neck, “Can you wait down here as I get some clothes on?” 

“Sure, take your time,” you nod in understanding, allowing Harry to make his way back upstairs. 

“Who’s at the door?” the girl asks from her spot on his bed as Harry changes quickly into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt. 

“Just a friend, she should be gone soon,” he replies. 

“You sure? She seemed really excited to see you.”

Harry lets out a sigh, “Logan, I promise she's just a friend. And what does it matter anyway?”

“Well I don't want to be the other woman,” she pouts, “But if you say she’s just a friend then I believe you.”

“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder briefly as he made his way back downstairs to where you were waiting on his sofa. 

“So whats up?” he asks, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m alright. I have some news, though,” you say, enthusiasm raising once again. 

“Okay, lay it on me,” Harry joins you on the sofa. 

“So I met with Flynn Bradford today,” you lead on, hoping Harry could understand what the news was. 

“No way,” he exclaimed after a moment of silence. “He picked you up? That’s amazing holy shit! Congrats!” 

“Thanks! You helped so much, I thought you had to be the first to know. And on Wednesday you can help me decide what corrections to add, too. This is all so exciting! It’s happening so fast!” you ramble quickly, standing up and pulling Harry into a hug. 

“No you did that all on your own! I knew they’d pick you up, too. So fucking talented,” he mumbles, returning your embrace. 

“Thank you oh my goodness! Okay, I just wanted to come over quick to tell you that. I have to work on some audition music so I’ll head out in a few,” you say. 

Harry opens his mouth to reply when you both hear his bedroom door open. Harry’s eyes widened in realization and your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Harry?” you hear an unrecognizable voice, “You done?” 

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes as you start to realize what was happening. He was with someone. He found someone and it wasn’t you. 

She walks down the stairs and your head immediately turns in the direction of the girl. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your tears in the ducts of your eyes as you see her in a t-shirt you know Harry absolutely loves. 

“Hey, uh Logan. This is Y/N,” he trails off lightly, waiting for you to introduce yourself. 

“Hi,” you smile falsely and extend your hand for her to shake. 

“Hey, I’m Logan. You’re Harry’s friend?” she presumes, looking at the two of you. 

“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” you pause, “Sorry, I didn’t know H was seeing anyone. This was kind of unexpected.”

“Oh that’s alright, I was going to leave soon anyway. Have to meet some friends for dinner,” she shrugged carelessly. 

“No, no, you can stay. I feel bad. I can be out in a few minutes,” you tell her with a soft smile.

She looked at you and Harry intervened before she could get a word out, “That’s alright, you can both stay if you want?” he suggested. 

“I really do have to go,” Logan trailed off. 

Harry quickly jumped at this, “Oh! Sorry, love. Yeah, go ahead, don’t mean to keep you here if you need to be somewhere.”

“I’ll just grab my stuff,” she smiles at the two of you and heads back upstairs to where you assume she was staying in Harry’s bedroom.

You and Harry stand in silence for a moment, “Sorry I should’ve asked to come over. I’ll go, you can spend some time with her before she leaves,” you finally stammer with a slightly wavering voice. 

“No!” Harry exclaims a bit too loudly, making you flinch at his tone. “You can stay,” he whispers. 

“That’s alright, I have to practice anyway,” you say in a rush, leaving his house at once without looking back at him.

// 

It was two days later when Logan showed up at Harry’s house with a soft smile on her face and her eyes filled with lust. 

Not only two minutes after Harry opened the door, his lips were on hers and they were making their ways upstairs to his bedroom. Logan had come to Harry’s for a quick fuck and Harry was there to provide. 

It had taken them a few weeks to get into a flow and get a general idea of each others bodys and needs and now that they were getting good sex, they didn’t take many moments to stop and catch their breath. 

There were a few moments, though where Logan knew she fell short of your company. She could tell with a quick glance at Harry that he was a lovesick puppy when it came to you and it became more and more apparent the more time they spent together. 

When they weren’t fucking, he spent most of his free time talking about you. The girl of his dreams and the funniest, prettiest, nicest, person he’s ever met. 

She had her hands in his hair and he had his hands tugging on her waist when his phone began buzzing from his bedside table. 

Logan sat up from where she laid, straddling Harry’s lap. He let out a soft groan and ran and hand through his hair as he checked who had called him.  

His lips fell into an effortless smile as he answered your call, leaving Logan breathless and unfulfilled. She resulted in getting up from his bed and walking out of his house once she realized it was you he was talking to. 

//

That following Monday, you watched as Harry made his way into your home, an uncomfortable silence encompassing the two of you as you sat on your sofa. 

“How was your date with Logan?” you ask eventually. 

“Oh, it was- it wasn’t a date,” Harry tried to describe, leaving you confused. Harry wasn’t one for casual hookups. 

“Then what was it?” you ask timidly, hoping for an answer you can understand. 

“Just meeting an old friend from college,” he coughs. 

“A friend?” you ask confused. 

“Yeah, uh, a friend,” he emphasized. 

“Oh,” you let out softly, “Why’d you get back with her?” you ask. 

“I don’t think the girl I like likes me back, so I wanted a distraction” he replies vaguely, turning on your TV in search of a new film to watch on Netflix.  

You swallow the lump in your throat before replying, “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

Harry looks at you for the first time that day, “Well she doesn’t act like it at all, so I think I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me.”

“I think you should tell her how you feel,” you shrug, “What is there to lose?”

“A person who I value a lot in my life,” he replies almost instantly. 

You didn’t reply after that, allowing the film Harry chose in a haze to begin and you sink further into the sofa. 

//

It had been an eventful week. You had sent back your manuscript twice between today and your original week and yesterday you had auditioned for the live orchestra for the annual Nutcracker production. 

This had been your fifth year playing in it- you were very confident in your ability to get a spot in the orchestra- but it was the solo that brought you grief. Every year, each section had a competitive fight between musicians for the solos that are littered through the production. 

You found that the busy week that had followed you around became the main reason you were able to get your mind off Harry. No matter what you did he meandered his way into your thoughts and you were beginning to feel pathetic that your mood relied on him. 

It was when you came home from auditions on Tuesday evening when you got a phone call from Harry. You hesitantly picked up the phone and allowed him to speak first. 

“Y/N? You there? Can you talk for a second?” he asked. 

“Yeah, what’s up,” you reply. 

“I need your advice. I think Logan wants to start seeing someone but she won’t admit it to me so I don’t know what I should do because I don’t want her to hold back on it just because of me,” he pushes quickly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Well why wouldn’t she admit she wants to see someone? She probably likes you, H, don’t worry. She’ll talk to you if she likes someone else.”

You heard a heavy sigh come from Harry’s end of the line as you picked up all your belongings from your car, your phone sitting between your shoulder and ear. “Yeah, I just- I don’t think she wants to tell me for some reason.”

What you didn’t know was that Harry was trying to prolong this call in an attempt to see if you would tell him to cut it off with Logan. It had only been a few weeks, and to be fair he hadn’t hooked up with her more then three times.

He knew he loved you but he needed confirmation that you liked him back. Logan insisted that you did but he didn’t trust her judgement as much as he trusted his own. 

As you learned through numerous conversations with Harry, he is a charming man, but he is also a confusing one. He isn’t direct and he seems to beat around the bush when it comes to serious things in his life. 

“Okay,” you say, confused, “Well just tell her that if she can’t be honest then she’s never going to be able to break it off with you. And if she says the same thing and you still don’t believe her just cut it off,” you advise selfishly. 

You wanted to help Harry, you truly did, but you were also a human. You were selfish and needy and you wanted Harry to yourself. So, you did what a selfish, and jealous, girl would do and you hinted at breaking it off. 

“Thanks,” he let out a huff of air, “Sorry, I have to sort some stuff out and I’m really stressed so I wanted your opinion about this,” he apologizes. 

“It’s alright. Let me know how it goes, yeah? I gotta run some errands but I’ll see you tomorrow?” you confirm. 

Harry hums in agreement and you hang up first, leaving him with the dial tone on his phone. 

The first thing you do when you get in your office is check your email. You were waiting on a reply from Bradford- you had just sent in another round of corrections and asked him for minor technical critiques to finish off the piece. You were proud of where it was and you were thoroughly in love with it. 

Just as you opened your laptop, you saw the taunting icon saying you have an unread email. You attempted to calm your nerves before opening it, preparing yourself for almost all senders. 

But calming your nerves turned into a loud scream. Bradford had replied and informed you that he loved the piece and accepts it as your final draft. He also mentioned that he will fax over the legal documents to look over before meeting with him officially and signing all the necessary contracts. 

Just as he said, later that night you received a thick stack of papers to sift off to your parents to help you look over and make sure everything was alright for you to sign. 

You bind all the pages together with a few paperclips and make a quick drive into the suburbs to give your parents the good news and ask them to help you find someone to look over all the papers for you. 

Your parents weren’t the most enjoyable people to live with but they were great to see in moderation. It was a large showcase of love every time you or Monica came home- they cooked, cleaned, and helped with just about everything you asked. 

So, when you arrived home, you got the full treatment. Your mom had cooked a nice dinner for you all and your dad helped you look over the contracts in their entirety as you waited for dinner to be served. You deemed the papers safe and the three of you decided you could sign on them as soon as possible and get all the proper licensing. 

You were overjoyed on your drive home and the moment you arrived back, you sent Bradford a quick email from your phone saying you can meet anytime to sign and that you had looked over the contracts. 

The following morning, you had gotten back a response stating he was free later that afternoon and you took him up on his offer to sign on the fine Wednesday. 

You met him back at his office, similar to the first time, and you had brought all the papers he had sent you, giving him a solid rundown of what you were expecting and negotiating royalties. 

You had taken half an hour to settle on a final deal and Bradford had gotten the contracts readjusted for you to sign. 

It was nerve wracking but exciting to be holding the pen in your hand and you signed page after page, ensuring your music could be sold and would be given proper care and proper copyright laws. 

“Last one right here, Y/N,” Bradford encouraged you. Your wrist grew tired but you refused to complain considering how much you wanted this and how long you waited. 

“Okay,” you grunted, signing your name sloppily and allowing Bradford to pull all the papers out from under your hold. 

“So, what this all ensures from our relationship standpoint is that we are the primary distributor and we will be helping with copyright and making sure you get your money's worth,” he briefs with a chuckle. He straightens out the stack and stands up with a smile on his face. 

You follow in suit and stand up at the desk, straightening out your pants, “Thank you so much,” you gush. 

“Thank you for thinking to work with us,” Bradford countered, making you shake your head. 

“Of course,” you say kindly, “And I appreciate all you’ve done for me these past few weeks. Been a huge help.”

“Oh it was our pleasure, Y/N. You're a wonderful artist. I think we all enjoyed working with your piece.”

You shake Bradfords hand and exchange pleasantries as you exit his office with a smile on your face.

It was the rush of relief that went through your body that helped you realize the gravity of what just happened. Your music has been sold and now has the opportunity to be in music shops, orchestras, and played all across the globe. And that was a great feeling. 

It was indescribable, to say the least. It had taken over a year to compose the piece and you had multiple failed attempts prior to this one. The piece you named Domicile was quite literally a love letter to your life. 

The piece went through the ups and downs of love. Domestic love, platonic love, romantic love. It was all encompassed in the piece you titled home. 

Written from the back of your mind, you had no idea how to articulate how proud of yourself you were. It was self expression and it was beautiful. 

Later that evening, Harry arrived at your home as he usually did. He held a small calculator and his laptop in his arm as he abandoned his car in your driveway and made his way up to your door. 

He knocked before opening it, knowing you always forget to lock it when you came home from work, and he followed the noise of soft jazz down the hall and into your office. 

The paint smell had finally vanished the room and he  found you sitting comfortably on the floor with your legs folded beneath you. “Hey, how was your day?” He asks, walking in and sitting across from you on the floor. 

“Really fucking good,” you grin, making eye contact with him. 

“Care to explain?” he asks with wide eyes and an encouraging smile. 

“Yes,” you say dramatically, “I, Y/N Y/L/N, am officially,” you pause for effect. 

“Oh come on,” Harry groans in anticipation. 

“I am officially a signed artist,” you squeal in excitement. 

“No fucking way,” he says softly, “No fucking way!” he yells. “I knew you would oh my goodness! This is amazing! We have to celebrate-” he rambles on. 

“Harry!” you exclaim with a giggle, “No need to celebrate this is enough!” you assure. 

“No, no, no,” Harry says, “We gotta do something. Even if it’s just a dinner with Mon and I. We gotta.”

“No,” you reiterate firmly. 

“Fine,” Harry says, “But you’re coming with me,” he says standing up. He extends his hand out and helps you stand before leading you to your living room. 

He gently tugs your arm towards him and he presses his chest up against yours. “Play it on the speaker, love,” he whispers. 

“Okay,” you say softly, pulling back and using your phone to play the symphony over your speaker system per Harry’s request. 

Harry smiled at you and gently put his hand up to yours, interlocking your fingers and holding you tightly. “Dance with me?” he asks with a cheeky grin. 

“Of course, sir,” you tease, stepping into his hold, his arms wrapping around your waist and your hands draped over his shoulders lightly. 

“I’m really proud of you,” he whispers, swaying back and forth. 

“Thank you so much,” you hum, “Seriously, you helped with so much of it. I really appreciate it.”

Harry ducked his head in a bashful manner, unsure of how to reply to your high praise, “I’d do it again if I had to.” 

You shake your head, looking out the window next to you two. The sun was setting and the sky was a painting of oranges and pinks, “God, Harry.”

“What,” he chuckles, following your gaze.

“I cannot believe you’re real,” you whisper, you hand moving to meet his jaw. You graze your thumb over his skin in utter disbelief. 

“Harry?” you call out softly. He was zoned out, staring at your profile. 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Course.”

“Can I kiss you?” you breathe out timidly. You don’t know where exactly you got all the courage that consumed your body at that current moment, but you were thankful for it. 

Harry swallowed thickly before his eyes met yours, “Yes please,” he whispers back at you.

Your hand that rested on his jaw caressed the skin for a moment before you leaned into his warmth. Your lips met his lightly, you pulling away too quickly for his liking. Harry looked at you once more before leaning forward and allowing his lips to meet yours heavily. 

You smile into his mouth, absolute joy coursing through your veins as he kissed you so carefully but so harshly. Your bodies stilled into the kiss, your mouths moving in sync slowly, absorbing every inch of each other. 

Harry lets out a small groan as you grind slowly against him, his head threatening to roll back if it weren’t for your hand holding his head still. 

His hands moved along your back comfortingly making your body melt into his expertly. You pull away again, Harry looking at you with dimmed eyes, you completely out of breath, “Songs over,” you whisper. 

“So restart it,” he replies with a small grin. 

//

Harry ended up seeing the full performance of Midsummer the last night it was performed at the theater. He apologized profusely and insisted he’d see the last of the show if it was the last thing he did, so you let him come and sit right in the front as he wished. 

Just as the first time, he sent you smiles of luck before your solo and a few more afterwards to show he was proud of you. Just as you anticipated, he is the best person to cheer you on during a performance. 

You knew Harry would be waiting for you in the lobby, so you held off on putting your overcoat on and allowed yourself to step out of the backstage area with your black dress and short heels, your clarinet and jacket in hand. 

He held his arm out for you once you became close enough for him to wrap his fingers around your waist and you walked into his hold, “I got something for you,” he tells you. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you ask with a smile creeping its way onto your lips. 

Harry smiles at you before handing you the flowers that sat in his other hand. It was an assortment of long stem red roses, what he read to be the traditional rose to give after a performance. 

“Thank you,” you whisper in awe, your eyes meeting his as he looks at you. 

Harry hums in response and tugs you closer to his body before leaving a quick peck on your lips and pulling away just as fast as he approached you. 

You and Harry were confused to say the least. You had both confirmed you liked each other the night you got signed but you found it difficult for the two of you to label what was going on. Harry wanted it to be exclusive and you wanted to give it a trial run to see how it would work. And though you did give it a trial run, the two of you were yet to discuss what was going on. 

You assumed this would be like any other relationship you had been in- after a few months and a handful of dates, you’d consider yourselves partners- but this was vastly different. You have known Harry for a few years now and he has always been a part of your life. So what counted as a date and what was as normal?

Well, tonight constituted a date. Harry had told you before he arrived that he would be taking you out for a nice dinner after your show and to be ready for the best night of your life. You rolled your eyes at his antics and humored him by showing him the outfit you had picked out- the dress you found yourself wearing every Sunday- and a different jacket then you usually wore- this one more flattering for the body.

Harry nodded in approval at this and made his way to the theater, you asking one of your friends to give you a ride so you could go home with Harry later that night. 

Now you sat in Harry’s car with his hand resting on your knee, your hand covering his as he drives you both to dinner. He was clad in the same suit he wore the first time he saw you and it subtly matched the black dress and white coat with pleats that you wore next to him.

Harry informed you when you got in the car that he would be taking you to his favorite (fancy) steakhouse in the next city over. Before you could protest her told you it was in celebration of your final performance and being signed, therefore your protests would only further encourage him. 

“Will these flowers be alright sitting in the car during dinner?” you ask him.

“Not sure,” he chuckles, looking over at you, “I’ll get you new ones if they aren’t.”

“No!” you’re quick to stop him, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Well what if I want to? You gonna stop me from fulfilling my inner desires?” he asks you teasingly. 

You roll your eyes at him and look out the window. The soft sounds of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac fill the silence as Harry exits the highway and turns into the parking lot of Del Friscos, the steakhouse. 

Harry exits the car first, rushing to your door so he can open the door for you. You smile at him as you step out of the car and walk in the building hand in hand.

The restaurant was dimly lit and had high, round booths around the perimeter of the room, tables with pristine white tablecloths among the center. Harry met the host with a small smile and a, “Styles, party of two,” before being led to a corner booth with you in toe. 

You smile at Harry as you slide into the booth, your hands making their way to the hem of your dress and tugging on it, “This place is really nice,” you comment your voice laced with insecurity. 

“Yup, that’s why we look really nice,” Harry reminds you.

“I feel like this is normal,” you chuckle, “I wear this every Sunday.”

“My girl looks this nice every Sunday and I never knew? Might have to make a pit stop Sunday nights too,” Harry compliments. 

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “I’d be alright with that.” 

Harry smiles at you as a waitress comes over and asks what drinks you’d like. 

The dinner was filling and well-made, you found yourself laughing harder than you ever had and eating the best food you’ve had in awhile. 

Harry held your hand as you left the steakhouse and he opened the passenger seat door for you, rushing to the other side to turn the heater on for you, “One more stop before I bring ya home,” Harry tells you. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Alright, where?” 

“Oh, Y/N, you should know by now that if I don’t tell you it’s a secret!” 

“Well it was worth a try,” you shoot him a smile, your hand finding its place in his. 

Harry hums in agreement, “Just know if I want you to know, you’ll know.”

You let out a laugh at his stubbornness, “Alright sir,” you say in a posh accent. 

Harry lets out an exaggerated hey before saying, “That’s what I sound like when I talk to my boss.

You burst out in laughter and Harry goes on to tell you an embarrassing story from the first time he met his boss. 

When Harry’s car reverses into a spot, your eyes shoot up in surprise at your arrival at the hardly-built riverwalk in your town. It was a new location and half the restaurants were still in the process of being built but it was still a nice place to go. 

You catch the door before Harry can, you send him a smug smile and take his hand as he tugs you gently towards the ice cream shop he seemed to be eyeing. 

The location was dimly lit with blue tinted lights and a few wall sconces that gave a warm orange glow. 

“How did you know I wanted to come here?” you asked him finally, coming to a stop and stepping inside the building. 

“It’s just about the only thing you’ve talked about for about two months,” Harry teased you with an accusatory finger. 

Your lips curve upwards as you exhale a laugh, “Okay, you got me there.” 

Harry smirks at you as you look at the menu before you, stepping up to the teen worker who looked far too tired to be awake, “Can I get a scoop of chocolate? And he’ll have,” you point at Harry. 

“Uh- I’ll have a scoop of vanilla with graham crumbs please,” Harry gives the worker a cheeky grin and wraps his arm around your waist as you wait for your cones. 

You smile in thanks as Harry pays, heading out of the building almost immediately to be met with a gust of wind and a lit up river beside you. 

Harry stays by your side as you both walk in silence taking in the scenery, eating your ice cream peacefully. It was a really nice way to spend your evening and you found yourselves enjoying each other's presence more than each other's conversation.

“Okay,” you swallow the last bit of your ice cream, “What’s your dream travel destination?” you ask.

Harry's eyebrows raise in amusement, “What, did you look up first date questions?”

You stifle out a laugh, “Maybe, I didn’t know if it would be awkward.” 

Harry lets out an exaggerated, “Ha!” before redirecting you back in the direction of his car, “That’s cute that you care so much.” 

“What and you don’t care?” you tease. 

“I care just not enough to google first day questions,” he pokes your side playfully. 

You laugh out a “Fine!” and redirect the conversation to your performance from earlier that night. 

// 

It was a full week apart from Harry and you were excited to reunite with him. Your week had been full with auditions for different parts in the Nutcracker every day so you found yourself unavailable to spend your Monday and Wednesday with Harry, having little to no time to yourself. 

Now, the following Sunday, the only thing between Harry and yourself was your front door. 

Harry was officially invited to your orchestra’s gala in celebration of completing Midsummer. You both had decided that Harry would arrive promptly two hours before you needed leave and you two would get ready together. 

He was lying down on your bed as you leaned over your bathroom counter in an attempt to perfect your eyeliner, “Don’t know why you bother with that,” you hear him grumble. 

You let out a chuckle and stood back to decide if it was even enough, “Me neither it’s too fucking hard.”

Harry lets out a snort, “That's what she said.”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him through your mirror, “You sure you’re not fifteen?” 

Harry smiles, “You sure The Office is only for fifteen year olds?” he shoots back.

Your face matches his and you lean into the mirror once more to perfect your eyeliner before moving to your closet to change into your dress for the night, prompting Harry to begin getting into his suit as well. 

Today, for the nicer event, you wore a nude dress with navy accents towards the bottom and a leg slit Harry thought made you look absolutely ravishing. And, in perfect coordination, Harry wore a navy suit with a white half-buttoned shirt underneath and his favorite red boots that reminded him of an old western movie you’d watched a few months back. 

He held your hand as you stepped out of your closet and let out a dramatic “Oh damn!” at first sight before spinning you around so he can get a full idea of your outfit. 

You fall into a fit of giggles and collapse into his hold and he sways back and forth, “I really like you,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you reply with a grin, “I like you a lot back.” 

“Well how lucky am I?” 

“So damn lucky,” you tell him as you let out a silent giggle, “Come on, let's head out.”

The drive to the theater seemed all too short for the both of you. You were sitting in a comfortable silence enjoying each other's company on the way there, stealing a few kisses at a red light or a longing glance while Harry was concentrating on changing lanes during rush hour.

When you arrived at the hotel the gala was held at, you both found your way inside and to the tables that were set up with your names on small place cards. You both sat there in soft chatter as you awaited the arrival of your friends who were to sit at the same table. 

Eventually, you were met with a crowd of people around your table and your voices raised in volume and excitement. It was merely 8:00 when your ears were greeted by the sound of a disconnected microphone. 

“Hello, everyone, I’m Jordan Pennington, the conductor of the Midsummer Night’s Dream orchestra performance and I’m here to recognize each performer for their outstanding work over the course of these past months,” his voice cut through the room like glass. 

Jordan then went on to state each performer and his favorite memory with them through the course of the orchestral production. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Jordan introduced, an image of you as a baby and you now making their way onto the screen behind him, “Y/N is a strong clarinetist we are blessed to have in our group. She works very hard in the theater and outside and has recently been signed as a composer so I’m hoping I’ll be conducting her work soon,” he paused as people congratulated you. You didn’t publicize your signing, so a lot of people were in shock and impressed. 

“She’s been with us for a while so we have a few good memories with her at this theater but I think everybody's favorite is just about any time Y/N brings lunch,” he pauses as everyone starts laughing. You bury your face in your hands as Harry looks at you with a confused smile.

“When Y/N brings lunch she without fail trips on one of the steps and spills something,” Jordan informs. You let out an exaggerated groan, eliciting more laughter and Harry covers his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter. 

“Can we move on?” you call out.

Jordan lets out a laugh and obliges, moving onto the next person on his list.

You glance at Harry who is taking a sip of wine and you raise your eyebrows at him, making him nearly spit out his drink, “Sorry, love,” he coughs out, bringing you in for a hug, “Just sounds so much like you it’s impossible,” he tells you. 

You roll your eyes at him and continue to listen as Jordan goes through the rest of your orchestra. 

When he finishes, your food is devoured and the middle of the room is opened to allow people to dance. You glance at Harry and take his hand, reminding him of the night you first kissed, “Come on,” you mutter. 

He allows you to take him to the center of the room where some of your colleagues have begun to conglomerate and dance slowly to the tune of Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud, you two joining in the mass.

Unlike last time, you knew exactly how to act, your arms immediately finding a home around his shoulders and pulling him close so your flesh is against his. 

Harry smiled at this and squeezed you at the waist as a silent way of saying I love you, his head leaning in towards yours and your foreheads resting against each other. 

“How is it that we always end up dancing?” he asks you. 

“Not sure, I was never good at it either but here I am,” you chuckle a reply. 

Harry’s eyes shoot up in disbelief, “There is no way you weren’t a good dancer.”

“Swear on it,” you say, your lips tugging upwards to make a smile. 

“No. I refuse to believe that, you’re so good,” he says, his eyes shooting down to your feet and then back up to your eyes making you giggle. 

“Nope,” you say confidently, “Just found you and you were good. By association I’m good.”

“So what you’re saying is you found the right partner?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You fall into a full belly laugh at his antics before agreeing, “I found the right partner.”

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[erricdraven]

Blood and Bone Didn't Make Our Home

Chapter 1 of 3

Pairings: Tara Maclay & Spike, Spike/Buffy Summers

Rating: Teen & Up

Death indeed does not distinguish between the sinners and the saints, and who knows that better than Spike, the master vampire formerly known as Slayer of Slayers and Tara Maclay, the witch who finds death at the end of many paths traveled for love? After meeting for the first time at a generic Sunnydale-apocalypse Scooby gathering, the beginnings of an unspoken comradery flowers, and through a myriad of catastrophes of varying sizes, lucky happenstances, and potential world-endages, the two find that sometimes family is found in the most unlikely places.

Usually, Spike thrived on chaos and awkward scenarios that he was only tangentially part of, but for some reason, he wasn’t getting the same joy in this one.

It was the stupid bloody chip in his head, finding new ways to ruin his fun every day, it seemed.

Being all but useless and tied up in a way he couldn’t even enjoy left him without any leverage, literally and figuratively, and it made him squirm uncomfortably. He’d spent over a century cultivating the power of first impressions into armor, but now…this was the first time since getting fangs that he couldn’t. He dug his nails into his palm, and reveled in the slow ooze of blood that it lifted. The only draw he’d been able to make in so long that he ached.

“Will, are you sure about this?” Buffy murmured softly into Willow’s ear, her hand resting in a comforting gesture on her wrist. “Bringing Tara into our circle means major baggage. I know she’s important to you, and we’ll all look after her as best we can, of course, but it’s a risk.”

Willow glanced over at where the rest of the Scoobies were lounging in forced casual positions as they waited for the sound of the doorbell. “Buffy, you’re my best friend, so my place is always with you, and if I want Tara to be able to actually get to know me, I think that means she needs the chance to be here too.”

Begrudgingly, Spike had to admit she had nerve.

Buffy gave her a nod and a small smile of understanding. “Then we’ll make her feel welcome.” Abruptly turning on her heel to face Spike with her hands on her hips petulantly, she snapped “Won’t we?”

“Oi, I didn’t ask to be here as your little pet, Slayer. Feel free to let me slip into something more comfortable.”

Her eyes turned steely and her frown turned into a cold smirk. “Oh, by all means! I figure you’ll be dust in, oh…” Buffy glanced theatrically down at her watch, “two minutes?”

He didn’t dignify that with a response. She knew she’d called his bluff, and he wasn’t going to give her any more satisfaction than that.

“You need us way more than we need you, Spike, so shut up, or else we’ll be throwing you out in an ashtray.”

If he were still a fledge, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from sticking his tongue out at Buffy. As it were, he rolled his eyes and looked away. “Please. I don’t give two shits about your little club. New girl’s nothing to me.”

At that, Willow turned a glare on him too.

“Oh, for fuck’s—I’m sayin’ she’s got nothing to worry about from me.” Looking over at Giles who had turned in his chair to watch as their altercation unfolded, Spike jerked his chin up towards the row of cabinets. “I need a sodding drink. You got anything stronger than a nice Chardonnay in there?”

In lieu of a response, Giles acquiesced by disappearing into the kitchen to return with two clean glasses and a bottle of something exceptionally dark that smelled old. “I suppose I’ll join,” he muttered under his breath, likely not meant for Spike at all, and poured. With the edge of his glass, Giles pushed Spike’s across the coffee table in his direction.

Spike couldn’t help the little scoff that slipped out. “Unless someone wants to play nursemaid, I’ll need a little wiggle room.”

It wasn’t lost on him that Buffy looked sidelong at Giles and only moved to untie him after she received a small assenting nod. She roughly loosened the knots enough that he could free himself the rest of the way then shoved his drink into his hand. “Here. Now drink your juice and be quiet while the grownups are talking.”

Snapping his teeth at her in an empty gesture, Spike suddenly became aware of a new heartbeat nearby, fluttering anxiously as it grew closer. “Time to make like a good hostess and straighten your pearls, Donna Reed,” he sing-songed just before there was a gentle knock on the front door.

Willow’s eyes went wide and she started fidgeting with the edges of her sweater. “Holy crap. She’s here. Okayokayokay, okay this is going to be fine.” Looking pointedly at the others, she implored them, “Please be nice, in a non-weird way. Ease her into the whole Hellmouth thing, but…don’t exclude her. Maybe—”

“Answer the door, Will,” Xander interrupted, not unkindly. “She’s waiting for you.”

“Right!”

As soon as the young woman stepped inside, Spike carefully scented the change in the air and dissected the new and unfamiliar fragrance from the others he was becoming infuriatingly accustomed to. Already he caught something unusual—it was sharp like ozone and made his nose tingle similarly to the liquor in his hand.

Bollocks. No one had told him that she was a witch.

Braced for unpleasant, he was caught off guard immediately when his gaze met hers; there was a soft, fragile vulnerability in her eyes that reinforced her youthfulness. In the broadest sense, everything about her that Spike was privy to with his adaptive senses was tinged with what he could only describe as pure like light. Just as darkness had a weight to it, light had a tangible feel of its own, and oddly, he wasn’t afraid to be near it like he would usually. It was warm like the sun but…welcoming and hopeful as it hadn’t been in so long.

Fucking weird, he thought to himself, returning to his drink with a shrug.

“Um, hi. I’m Tara. It’s r-really nice to meet you all.” Her smile was guarded but authentic.

CONTINUE ON AO3

#btvs #btvs fic #buffy the vampire slayer #tara maclay #spike #buffy summers #spuffy #mywriting #otp: he is in my heart

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

Major Updates to My Weird Idea (that includes my Nightside OCs)

Go check my previous post on this - HERE

This is mainly an update for @schizoauthoress , @the--blackdahlia , @spacelizardtrashboys , @enigmaticandunstable and @piratewithvigor and I personally think @nattinngrst might like this.

I went on a trip to the beach yesterday with my parents and my older brother (who I bored and annoyed with this idea and you'll see some of his influence in this here post)

Anything written in italics is meant to be taken as a joke as you read through this wall of text, sending good vibes as always, hope y'all are doing well.

The show is set in Canadian, Texas (real place: Wikipedia). I'm thinking of this show starting in the mid-to-late 90s (1996/1997).

I've managed to do several things with that weird sitcom idea, so, where to start, how about with the three potential titles:

1 - Neighbourhood Watch

2 - First Call

3 - First Round (Which my brother likes)

Here are some options for bar names, starting with the Cop bar:

1 - The Donut Hole

2 - The Roasted Hog (which my big bro suggested)

3 - The Sherriff's Outpost

And the Biker Bar:

1 - The Handlebar Inn

2 - The Steel Horse Saloon

3 - The Rebel Room

Next on the list of updates: Cast additions, character roles and (Finally after 2 days) Names for Everyone!!

I'll start with the Cop Bar's owner & staff:

Rosalina Asturias 'Rosa' (Played by Billie Martinez) an employee of the local cop bar. Didn't grow up in the town, moved here for work.

Violet Croft (Played by Eli Herne) an employee. Grew up in town, never left, has the hots for one of the guys in the local police.

Sunshine Crawford 'Sunny' (Played by Holly Di Antonio) an employee. Grew up in town, left for college and came back.

Roscoe Power 'Ross' (Played by Jimmy Hart) the loudmouth who owns the bar, grew up in town, used to be a car salesman.

Olesya Pavlovsky 'Olivia' (Played by Penelope Voronin) an employee who grew up in town and has immigrant parents, goes by 'Olivia' because she would rather you don't f*** up her actual name.

Winona Vance (Played by Sam Griffin Silver) an employee who moved here from New York, for unknown reasons, and doesn't really understand the small town, everyone knows everyone lifestyle.

Lavender Whittemore (Played by Victoria Lucifarian) an employee who grew up in England but moved to live in America, settled in Canadian, Texas due to her love of westerns.

Next: The Local Police Squad:

Sergeant Valentine Gautier 'Val' (Played by Bret Hart) recently promoted before the series begins but still on patrol duty, watches over his younger brother.

Corporal Buck Morris 'Buckshot' (Played by Davey Boy Smith) the gun loving corporal of the squad and the only one to have both 'work' and 'home' guns.

Captain Napoleon Cooper 'Crazy Cooper' / 'Captain Crazy' (Played by Jim Neidhart) the police captain, recently reassigned to Canadian, Texas as there were rumours abut him which interfered with his work in his previous location.

Officer Duke Gautier (Played by Owen Hart) the young, recently recruited brother of Sgt Gautier, often put on patrol alone to ensure less arguments, but always checked on by his brother.

Next: The Biker Bar's Staff:

Ozzy Rains (Played by Charles Wright) A biker and member of the staff who grew up just outside of town but loves his fellow staff members like family.

Brock Martel (Played by Henry Godwin) a biker and member of the staff who grew up on a local ranch and loves beer, football and the current Mayor's down-to-Earth style.

Vincent Gore 'Vinnie' (Played by Kane) the owner's son and a known fire loving 'freak' often protected by his surrogate family, the bar staff, Vinnie knows no better than 'ooh, cool looking fire' and must be restrained or have his hands swatted away to stop him burning himself trying to touch campfires.

Raven Knight (Played by Kirby Roussimoff) the only female staff member, but also the girl who does all the tough jobs when needed, has a side business of making and selling artwork, such as portraits to locals, has designed some of the bar staff's tattoos.

Harlow Gore (Played by Paul Bearer) the owner of the bar and a loving father to his son, took Murphy (Undertaker) under his wing when they first met and also treats him, and the rest of staff, like family.

Hunter King (Played by Phineas Godwin) Brock's cousin and a member of staff, taught Raven how to shoot a shotgun and his father owns a local tattoo parlour.

Sequoia Reed (Played by Rikishi) an employee and Frankie's (Yokozuna) cousin, also a surrogate cousin to Raven, having been best friends since childhood. Reed loves his job and his staff family and will defend both at any cost.

Lupe Zapatero (Played by Savio Vega) an employee at the bar and possibly the shortest member of staff, towered over by the tallest staff members but is not any less of a fighter because of his size, a former mechanic who loves nothing more than taking things apart and putting them back together while listening to metal / rock.

Murphy Graves (Played By The Undertaker) Manager of the biker bar and an excellent member of staff, has an outlaw rules vibe, as in he would say to the police "Your jurisdiction ends when you walk in my bar." Very protective of the staff, and the owner.

Frankie Wolf (Played by Yokozuna) the most relaxed and laid-back of the staff, Frankie would prefer to be in the kitchen making potential 'Culinary Masterpieces' as he would call them. Sequoia and Raven's (surrogate) cousin, views his staff mates as family.

Next: The Local Band (Named: Exoskeleton Samurai)/College Students

Quinn Thorn (Played by Jeff Hardy) the bassist to Ros' (Lita) vocals / lead Guitar and older brother Garth's (Matt) Drums, a face paint enthusiast and an English major in college who never seems to find time to study, but always has time to date somehow.

Roz Jerome (Played by Lita) the vocals and lead guitar for the band and an art major who actually studies, dating Garth (Matt) and met Quinn through him. Roz also studies Spanish and French.

Garth Thorn (Played by Matt Hardy) Quinn's older brother and the band's drummer, a major in psychology and a horror movie lover, Roz' boyfriend and almost totally devoted to her, even at the cost of his college work.

Next: The Local Townsfolk of Note:

Mayor Robert Sweet (Played by Jim Duggan) rarely seen, but apparently a good man with good ideas, helps out in volunteer projects and absolutely loves the town. Trying his hardest and people know this, and they love him. (did I meme correctly?)

Rusty Jarvis (Played by Mick Foley) the local hippie who has never left town, somehow managing to know both everything and nothing at the same town. (Very Dude Love with hints of Cactus Jack and Mankind) Does know how to fight when he needs to.

Redd Wayne (Played by 'Sycho' Sid Vicious/Justice) the local baseball/softball star, helps out at the local school/college teaching sports and likes Raven's artwork, he watches her draw when he can, runs the local little league & minor league baseball/softball games.

Earl Black (Played by Steve Austin) the most often seen regular at the biker bar, absolutely loves both the bar and the town, a hardworking guy who has befriended the entire staff (including Harlow and Vinnie) of the biker bar.

Lex Aston (Played by The Rock) a local struggling actor, teaching an acting class to pay the bills and an absolute ladies man, and for that reason he goes to the cop bar, to try and pick up one of the bartenders who works there, often favouring Rosa as she will jokingly flirt back.

Finally (for this section): The Degenerates and Their Benefactors:

Reign Yates (Played by Billy Gunn) Leon's (Road Dogg) best friend, often the getaway driver for the group and a scout for locations, often getting all the info on a place before telling Matty (H.H.H) and Dell (HBK). Often leaves town with Leon to get the heat off them. (and make out in secret)

Zelda Hooper (Played by Chyna) the only female degenerate but possibly the toughest, has a rap sheet as big as her arms, not to be trusted when around the other degenerates as she is usually the actual brains of the operation.

Matty Battle (Played by Hunter Hearst Helmsley) the co-leader of the degenerates, often protected by Zelda or Mark (Kevin Nash). does most of the talking but has the piss taken of him for his looks often by either other degenerates or locals who don't care for the degenerates.

Romeo Colombera (Played by Mike Rotundo/I.R.S) the right hand man of the mysterious benefactor, and often the lawyer for the degenerates as well as a taskmaster for them, telling them what the boss wants done and by what date.

Mark Rake (Played by Kevin Nash/Diesel) the tallest degenerate with a rap sheet as long as his leg, a former bouncer at a now closed nightclub, alongside best friend (and possibly boyfriend) Galo (Scott Hall) and now a bodyguard (when needed) for Matty and Dell (HBK, also boyfriends).

Leon Rose (Played by Road Dogg) best friend of Reign and a scout for the group alongside him. Has found every possible way to piss off other townsfolk and often in the most fights because of it, always on the police's radar for one thing or another and constantly leaving town because of it.

Galo Villalobos (Played by Scott Hall/Razor Ramon) the only (supposedly) Latino degenerate, raised in Canadian, Texas but his parents are from Cuba, Galo is a former nightclub bouncer (alongside Mark) Galo is known (for his ability to give minus fucks) as the most relaxed member of the group.

Dell Pain (Played by Shawn Michaels/HBK) the co-leader alongside Matty, a known flirt with people regardless of gender or sexuality, just to piss them off on some occasions. Dell grew up in town, knowing it like the back of his hand.

Giles Rennell (Played by Ted DiBiase) the mysterious benefactor of the group, bailing them out if needed, he stumbled across the group after seeing a police bulletin and decided to use them to cause enough chaos to guarantee a chance in the next mayoral election.

Zac Noel (Played by X-Pac) the shortest and youngest degenerate, Zac is often treated as the child of the group, being taught how to get away with crimes and trick the police into just letting him go by clerical error and tomfoolery.

Next on my list of updates: Season 1's episode list, episode titles, episode synopses, some spoilers, and the revolving door idea a bit further explained.

Series running order:

Biker bar episode

Cops on Patrol episode

Band/College Students episode

Cop bar episode (yes these are different)

Degenerates episode

(last episode of each season/series only) town meeting/town get-together (E.X: town hall meetings, the town getting together for a sports game or barbeque or restaurant opening)

1x01: Insert Coin to Start: The pilot episode of the series sees the local biker bar of Canadian, Texas installing two, brand new, arcade machines. After leaving for the night, the team finds the bar broken into and both machines missing with no evidence or possible suspects to the robbery. The team finds the machines relatively undamaged in an alleyway nearby. By the end of the episode there's still no suspects. B plot includes an argument between father and son, Harlow and Vincent which ends when Murphy gets involved.

1x02: Hot Pursuit: Newly instated chief of police Chief Cooper [Neidhart] makes changes to the patrol teams before tasking them with looking for any persons involved with (1x01)'s robbery and break-in, leading to a high speed chase later in the episode. B plot includes the squad coming to grips with the new, and much crazier, police chief.

1x03: Making Noise: Local band Exoskeleton Samurai [Team Extreme] are writing new music late at night while Roz [Lita] tries to study for a class the following day but, during a moment of quiet, they hear a break in a couple of doors down and attempt to see who it is. The group get a glimpse of Zac Noel [X-Pac] and Mark Rake [Nash] but not a full glimpse. Now aware of the local degenerates, the band try and forget about it and focus on their own lives until their apartment gets broken into when they're not there.

1x04: Donuts & Beer: The new cop bar opens on the other side of town, serving mainly (both savoury and sweet) bagels and donuts as well as beer (on tap and bottled), the fact it's slightly more risqué gets (both good and bad) attention on the place. Winona Vance [Sam] gets in a fight with Zac Noel [X-Pac] as she's locking up. Winona [Sam] being put in the hospital with a broken arm makes the rest of [Cop Bar]'s staff double down on getting justice for the near break-in.

1x05: Dirty Work: The first episode from the degenerates perspective. The degenerates are just causing general problems for the town without reason because it's fun' but it's quickly losing their interest as the heat on them rises. The end of the episode has Matty Battle [Triple H] receiving a call from 'Mister R' [DiBiase] offering him a deal.

1x06: Blue & Black: A brawl breaks out at [Biker Bar] following whispers that the people who broke in are in the building. The bikers who work at the bar threaten to hurt anyone who works for the rival bar if they try and mess with business while in the biker bar.

1x07: Captain Crazy: A rumour that the current captain was moved location and promoted to smooth over allegations that he may not be fully sane, Officer Duke Gautier [Owen] is determined to find the truth while Sergeant Valentine Gautier [Bret] and Corporal Buck Morris [Davey Boy] are determined to keep the peace and catch the local degenerates.

1x08: Broken Strings: following an argument with an ex girlfriend Quinn Thorn [Jeff] finds his guitar smashed and has to work odd jobs to buy another one (starting a potential series c plot). Garth Thorn [Matt] ends up in a fight with Galo Villalobos [Hall] which ends when Roz Jerome [Lita] smashes a table leg over the back of Galo's [Scott's] head, knocking him out and giving him over to the police.

1x09: Badges & Bottle Tops: Captain Cooper [Neidhart] stops by [cop bar] to talk with owner Roscoe Power [Jimmy Hart]. Meanwhile the Gautier boys [Owen & Bret] interrogate Galo Villalobos [Scott Hall] about what the degenerates are doing and why, getting no information about the mysterious benefactor over than he pays them a lot of money depending on what they do.

1x10: Paid off: The mysterious benefactor 'Mister R' [DiBiase] pays Galo's [Scott's] bail, getting him free for a while but side-lining him too. The benefactor remains hidden in shadow but Matty & Dell [Triple H & HBK] have a meeting with him to discuss money and the next job.

1x11: Written in Ink: the tattooed bikers on the staff encourage regular customer Earl Black [Austin] to get a skull tattoo on his back and even take him with them to the tattoo parlour they frequent, finding it to be burned to the ground with a 'freaks get lost' sign planted in the wreckage. Murphy Graves [Undertaker] dismisses the rumours that the arsonist is the fire fascinated Vincent Gore [Kane] and even gives him an alibi when the cops come looking for answers, putting blame on someone in town who knows about Vinnie's [Kane's] love of fire, which is nearly every person in town.

1x12: Sergeant Heartbreaker: Sergeant Gautier [Bret] is accused of flirting with the staff at [Cop bar] leading to a paid two day leave to get heat off of him while he's ordered to remain at home. Officer Gautier [Owen] and Corporal Morris [Davey Boy] are put on patrol together, leading to a high speed chase of Reign Yates, Leon Rose & Zelda Hooper [Gunn, Road Dogg & Chyna] after witnessing a mugging, assault and graffiti from the trio, the cops eventually lose them down a back road on private Giles Rennell's [DiBiase's] land they would need a warrant for.

1x13: Failing Grade: Quinn's [Jeff's] lack of sleep leads to him getting a fail on an test forcing him to do the semester again. Enraged by this Quinn [Jeff] considers leaving the school but is encouraged to continue following Garth [Matt] ending up in hospital following [1x12]'s assault and mugging on Garth & Roz [Matt & Lita].

1x14: Microphones & Megaphones: [cop bar]'s owner Roscoe Power [Jimmy Hart] installs a stage for local acts in the bar, leading to Violet Croft [Eli] performing later that episode (the closing of the episode into the credits) and the night before the first performance the bar is covered in graffiti, leading to a massive clean up effort from the staff and local volunteers (like Mick Foley & The Rock).

1x15: Trench Warfare: Romeo Colombera [IRS] the benefactor's [DiBiase's] right hand man and go-to lawyer gives the degenerates an list of jobs, run the police chief out of town by the end of the year, run the bikers out of town, and ensure that 'Mister R' [DiBiase] the benefactor wins the next mayoral election.

1x16: Fuelling Up: after closing up [biker bar] Raven Knight [Kirby] narrowly avoids being burned by her motorbike exploding in a ball of fire. Her boss, Harlow Gore [Bearer] tells her to take the week off, leading to her coming into the bar and sitting at the back of the bar, sketching the regular customers and having a long conversation with local sports star Redd Wayne [Sid].

1x17: Brothers in Arms: Together: the Gautier brothers [Bret & Owen] are put on patrol together leading to the arrest of Zelda, Matty & Dell [Chyna, Triple H & HBK] before the trio are bailed out, the brothers interrogate Dell Pain [HBK] (leading to a very 'basic instinct'-esque scene with Shawn in assless chaps and boxer briefs) who gives them no information on their behaviour and why they are doing the things they've done.

1x18: Night Time Fun: the band attends a college party, unknowingly with Zac Noel [X-Pac] also in attendance, leading to the trio being high and drunk and the Thorn brothers [Matt & Jeff] end up in a fight, almost being thrown out of college entirely for their actions the next morning.

1x19: Head or Hart: Violet Croft [Eli] and (officer) Duke Gautier [Owen] meet properly for the first time on a blind date, leading to them walking through the streets of Canadian, Texas at night. The date is quickly ended after Duke [Owen] spots Leon Rose [Road Dogg] spray painting [cop bar] and gives chase after handing Violet [Eli] his number.

1x20: Grunt Work: The degenerates have a group meeting about how to sabotage the town meeting, leading to Rennell [DiBiase] coming out of the shadows to lead the degenerates in a coordinated attack on the town hall. Leading to the degenerates waiting until the town meeting to begin the next day.

1x21: Town Meeting: Mayor Robert Sweet [Duggan] conducts a town meeting, leading to everyone airing their grievances with the degenerates recent spree of activity. At the end of the meeting, paint bombs hidden above the townsfolk go off all at once, covering everyone in bright, almost neon, green paint.

#Kayleigh's weird idea #any thoughts?