OK I’M SO SHOOKT but I just now remembered that some Maori have face tattoos and like
What if Roadhog, who has Maori skins, whose name is a Maori name/word, whose build somewhat resembles that of Maori men, who could very well be from New Zealand and who, proud of a warrior heritage, came over to fight with the Aussies against the omnic threat
is hiding his tattoos under his mask?
In case you’re not fully convinced, the above photos are portraits of members of a notorious Maori biker gang called the Mongrel Mob.
So the idea of a tatted up Maori biker Roadhog (at least, in a previous life) would absolutely not be a stretch.
also as far as I’m aware, the tongue out motif of hog’s mask in this skin is specific to Maori–the Pukana, where you stick your tongue out and have your eyes wide open to show aggression or passion/strong emotion
as is the fishhook weapon he carries as his hook, though I know that motif is also pretty common to Pacific Islanders in general
Also in case anybody brings up that Roadhog’s skin color implies he’s white–which he may likely be, I want to point out that I’ve seen plenty of mixed race Maori whose coloring is very white/caucasian, but who are still very proud of their heritage, so it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.
First 100 Days: Trump and the Degradation of the Presidency
Trump’s failure to accomplish little or any of his agenda during his
first 100 days shouldn’t blind us to the vast harm he has done in this comparatively short time to our system of government, especially
his degradation of the presidency.
From early in the Republic,
we have looked at the office of the president as a focal point for the
nation’s values. Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and the two Roosevelts exemplified for generations of Americans the
moral authority of the highest office in the land. It is not merely what these men
accomplished, but how they did it; not just their policies but their positive effects on the institutions of democratic governance.
True, many of our presidents
have fallen short of those ideals. But our disappointments in those individuals reflected the high expectations we have had for those who hold that office.
Yet under Trump, the moral authority of the presidency has all but disappeared.
I’m old enough to recall when John F. Kennedy invited the world’s great
artists, writers, and philosophers to dine at the White House. The
nation felt ennobled.
Donald Trump invites Sarah Palin and Ted Nugent,
who once called President Obama a “mongrel,” and we feel sullied.
But it has not just been Trump’s vulgarity.
There have also been Trump’s lies – blatant, continuous,
and unsubstantiated even after the lack of evidence has been pointed out
They are not just any lies, but lies that deepen Americans’ suspicion of one
another and undermine our confidence in our system of government – such
as his repeated contention that “three to five million” people voted
illegally in the last election, or that Obama spied on him during the
Prior presidents have embellished the truth and on occasion have lied about a particular important thing, such as the
existence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. But never before Trump have we had a president who chronically lies, whose lies have become an
integral part of his presidency even in the first 100 days.
There is also Trump’s vast family business, from which he
continues to benefit even though the decisions he makes in office
affect what he earns, and the almost certain decisions by foreign governments to curry favor with him by bestowing benefits on his business.
Trump shrugs off such conflicts – even
refusing to release his tax returns, even inviting his daughter and
son-in-law, each with their own businesses and conflicts of interest, to
join him at the highest reaches of the White House.
presidents have profited from their presidencies after they leave
office through large speaking fees and book contracts. But never before Trump have we had a
president for whom conflicts of financial interest during his
presidency are so flagrant yet ignored.
The first 100 days has
also been marked by Trump’s divisiveness – turning Americans against
each other, legitimizing hatefulness toward Mexican-Americans and
Muslim-Americans and African-Americans, fueling violence between his
supporters and his opponents.
We have had divisive elections
before. But after them, other presidents have sought to heal the wounds. Even after the horrors of the Civil War, Lincoln famously
asked us to come together without malice.
Trump, by contrast, has fomented the warring camps – calling his opponents “enemies,” suggesting they are plotting against his administration,
and staging rallies to encourage and fuel his bedrock supporters.
We have also seen Trump’s cruelty – toward refugees, undocumented
immigrants, and the poor among us. He has issued a budget that would
deeply harm the least advantaged Americans, and supported a repeal of
the Affordable Care Act that would also hurt those most in need.
has refused asylum to refugees at a time when the world faces the
largest refugee crisis since World War II, and unleashed immigration
enforcers on 11 million residents of the United States, many of whom have been productive members of their communities for
years. He has even deported people who have been here since childhood
and know know no other nation.
Other presidents have on occasion
been cruel. But Trump’s cruelty has defied reason. It is utterly unnecessary.
There has also been Trump’s affect on the rest of the world – legitimizing
crude nationalism and hateful xenophobia. He has promoted France’s Marine
Le Pen and encouraged authoritarians such as Turkey’s
Tayyip Erdogan, while at the same time confusing our democratic allies and friends.
is Donald Trump himself – who in the first 100 days as president has
shown himself to be narcissistic, xenophobic, paranoid,
vindictive, and thin-skinned; who takes credit for the work of others
and blames others for his own failings; who lashes out at the press and
journalists when they criticize him, and who demonizes judges who
disagree with him.
We have before had presidents whose personality defects harmed
their presidencies and tainted the office of the president, such as Richard Nixon. But Donald
Trump is in a different league altogether. He exhibits the opposite of
every civic virtue ever encouraged in our school rooms, town halls, and
The first 100 days is an artificial landmark for
presidents. But it does offer an opportunity to pause and assess what they have done. Too often, though, we think in the narrow gauge of
policies and legislation.
With Trump, it’s important to think
more broadly. Among the most significant legacies of his first 100 days is his
degrading of the moral authority of the office of the president, and,
thereby, of America.
Hey! Just a friendly reminder since I’ve largely retired from discourse, but since it’s pride month and people still don’t understand this, uh:
If you’re ace and not gay/bi/non-cis you’re a joke, you don’t deserve to be anywhere near lgbt spaces (not even as an ally, given your community’s track record), you’re a vile mongrel of a human, and you don’t deserve my faggot ass’s support! I hate you and hope nothing but bad things happen to you :)
If you’re lgbt and aren’t happy w/ my opinion on this (for how blunt and violent it is) that’s chill! I’m sorry but also won’t change this post or my mind. If you’re cishet, ace or otherwise, you have no room to criticize this opinion/post and can unfollow me for it if you want.
Aces ain’t lgbt. Lgbt aces are still, barely, lgbt, due to their willful connection with this farcical community. aces are not, never have been, and never will be oppressed and therefor have no place in our community and are not deserving of a single day of pride, let alone a month.
My first real attempt at a humans are space orcs story. Written on my mobile, so excuse any spelling errors, I have proof read and tried to correct, but some may have slipped through the cracks.
Queen Krillix clicked her mandibles together in anticipation as he surveyed the situation upon his scanners.
The Vespula fleet consisted of five hundred dreadnoughts, two hundred heavy support vehicles, one hundred attack fighters, and one flagship; a Nova-class heavy bomber, a type aptly nicknamed by their enemies “planet smasher”.
The fleet of the United Sol fleet however, was a dozen warships, half a dozen battle cruisers, and a hundred mongrels; ships which had previously cargo haulers, research vessels, and transport ships meant to carry colonists to new worlds, all of them had been stripped down and retrofitted with heavier weapons and armour. They were not ascetically pleasing but were serviceable enough. For humans.
From her throne room aboard the planet-smasher “Iron Sting” (loosely translated into galactic common.) the queen extended her will to her army. The hive was not of mindless drones, her soldiers could think for themselves, their intelligence, their instincts, guided the hive to victory. But their will was the queens will and the queens will was their will. She guided them, drove them, gave them reason to live. The hive without their queen was a bunch of soldiers without a cause, without desire to do anything to eat and procreate. With billions of mouths that feed already the hive was running out of food in the handful of systems their already controlled. Expansion was the only key to their survival. So the queen drove them on, ever forward, ever outward, to new worlds and new foods.
So it had passed that the hive had found this small system, with an unassuming little star. Colonised worlds and strange fleshy-bipeds running around their little homes and growing food. No armies, no defences; none that bothered the hive anyway. Not even space worthy vessels.
The hive had descended and claimed this world. There had been but a paltry resistance from the bipeds. But farmers with pitchforks and lasers were no match against a single attack ship and the well trained soldiers of the Vespula when the will of the queen was behind them.
There in the ashes of the settlement, the hive had learned the name of the bipeds; humans. They had come to learn the name of their world; New Earth. They came to learn the fleshy bipeds were not born to this planet but another.
They were much like the hive, in their own primitive way. They dominated their homeworld and had spread. First across their own system and then, when they ran out of room, to others. Anywhere they found suitable they planet their two feet and claimed it for their own. Yet they also did something the hive did not. The humans called it Terraforming; to force a world to be suitable for your kind. The science caste had put their minds to this terraforming as a way for the hive to claim more worlds. But the process was slow, taking several hundred cycles. Dozens of queens would come and go before even one world was made suitable for the Vespula. An unnecessary waste of resources for too long a goal. Expansion of suitable planets was deemed the only true way forward.
The queen acknowledged a slight kinship with the humans, despite them being fleshy bipeds of dull colouring, and the Vespula were the great insectoids of the royal black and noble yellow. Like the Vespula, they were driven as the hive was driven, by the need to grow and survive.
The feeling of kinship did not make the queen stay her tarsal claw. If anything it encouraged her. These humans were not just prey, or a nuisance, they were competition. They needed worlds and food as did the hive. They had great, ever expanding numbers, as did the hive. How long before they came to battle over territory? The queen considered and decided to strike first. These humans were primitive. They had only recently discovered the means to travel faster than light. They had strange notions of peaceful exploration and learning. They took only those worlds which were not already owned by sentient beings. This was surely a hindrance. It was a weakness, if nothing else. When something stood in the way of your food you should strike it down. It was the only way to be strong. The only way for the majority to survive. No wonder they hadn’t expanded too far.
“Status?” The queen asked and the solder of the tactician caste responded.
“Scans show no other human ships in the sector.”
Then this paltry number was their whole fleet.
“Weapons appear to be high intensity lasers. Radiation signatures on the warships and battle cruisers indicate nuclear weaponry”
Primitive. Nuclear weapons, such a barbaric people. Yet effective enough in its own way. If it were not for their shield generators the queen might have been worried.
If the humans concentrated fire on one ship at a time the humans could break the shields and take down a dreadnaught or two. Such ha tactic would have even worked against the planet smashing Nova-class vessel. But during that time they would be taking fire from every other ship around them. They would surely be destroyed before any shields collapsed.
As it was, all the Vespula ships had shields and the human weapons would crash against them as they tried to attack ten times their number. The Vespula would cut through this pitiful fleet with their quantum cannons and proceed through this Sol system, claiming every inhabitable planet along the way until they reached the human homeworld. Glory to the hive!
The queen bent her will, her fighters felt her and obeyed as her will became their own. The weapons began charging, their ships took positions for attack. In a few more seconds the humans ships would be in range of their cannons.
Then there was a voice she had not expected. “My queen.”
It came from a drone of the technician caste, manning the communications station. He seemed confused, this concerned the queen. “We are receiving a message from the flagship of the human fleet.”
Thirty seconds until the ships were in range.
The queen waved a claw dismissively. “I have no patience for long speeches about how they will not be defeated how they will make their stand and-” the technician interrupted her, another unexpected thing.
“My queen, the translator states only two words.”
The queens antennae raised upwards- the equivalent of a smile to their race. “Let me guess, ‘we surrender’?”
Ten seconds and the ships would be in range.
“No my queen.”
The queen looked at him expectantly, “no?”
The technician looked again at his screen, which had translated the strange language of the humans into a written transcript. “It says, 'Leeroy Jenkins.’”
The queen’s mandibles clicked, her antennae dropped, the signs of confusion “Leeroy Jenkins?”
The ships came into range. The human ships raced at great speed. The Vespula ships fired. The human ships did not engage them?! They did not slow to attack speeds! They did not shoot. They charged onwards. Their movement was too fast. The quantum cannons missed! The targeting combat computers of the Vespula worked best on ships that had slowed to a proper attack speed. This was the speed of fleeing, but the humans were still heading toward them?! The queen was confused as were her soldiers, but their wills were found one thought, one desire; shoot the human ships.
Some ships hit, but they were only glancing blows off the armour of the speedy and agile human vessels. Then a luck shot! One human vessel, a war ship, exploded as the quantum laser caught its nacelles. The other vessels raced past, igniting their fallen comrades. They didn’t fire against the attack fighters, they ignored the cruisers and dreadnoughts. The puny human vessels penetrated into the very heart of the seam of hive ships.
Too late the queen realised their course; they were targeting the flagship, only the flagship. HER SHIP!
“All power to shields!”
Half a dozen nuclear weapons were launched at once, less than 500ft from the hull.
Just in time did the technician pour the auxiliary power into the shield generators. The shockwaves of the explosions made the shields rumble like a violent ocean. Radiation detectors signalled that the outside of the ship was already a hotbed of fallout. Their thick hull and shields were keeping the interior safe.
A second wave of missiles were launched. A third were close behind. Before those nukes even hit their shields, the ships of the first wave were in range and launching another wave.
Where was her ships? Her soldiers? Their powerful weapons? The queen already knew the answer, the hive was too afraid of the swift and agile
Human ships. They couldn’t fire upon them for the risk of hitting the flagship.
The fourth wave of missiles impacted. Alarms signalled the collapse of the shields and radiation penetrating the outer layers of the hull.
The tiny human ships were massing again, launching their fifth strike. Nuclear missiles and lasers fired simultaneously. All their fire was concentrated one one place; the bridge.
Far and away, across the void of space. The princess Noxi was torn from her rest in her sleeping chamber. Emerging from the warmth of her cocoon she scrambled to an opening and looked to the stars. For the hive they had always been warm and inviting, promising new planets, food and resources for the glory of The Hive. Now they looked cold and frightening. Promising unknown dangers and darkness. She felt a shiver run through her thorax.
Across the hive cries went up as the realisation dawned on each member of the Vespula race. Males, females, and larvae were all feeling as one the terrible loss and grief not only of so many brothers and sisters, but their beloved queen.
Princess Noxi felt an ache in the back of her head. There was no stopping it. It began instinctively as soon as her mother had died. She felt the ache grow in intensity, almost searing her brain, as her connection to the hive grew and solidified.
Within minutes the pain faded. Queen Noxi looked upon her hive with fresh eyes. The will of the hive was her will. Her will was the will of the hive.
These Humans. Not long ago their desire had been to destroy these fleshy bipeds. They were supposed to be primitive. They were supposed to be weak. They were supposed to fall to the hive like so many had before.
The soldiers in the sol system. Her soldiers now. Their fight was on hold. Their shock was fresh. They had just witnessed the death of their queen while they’d been stuck, helpless, lest they harm the queen they were trying to protect. They needed her guidance now, more than any other in the hive. They were waiting for it. Waiting for the will of their queen to guide them.
Queen Noxi gave her will out to all of the hive across all their worlds, the billions of minds received her, “Run. Run from the humans.”
and a Long Island Iced Tea | Harry Styles One Shot
So this might be a little different to how the anon had in mind but this premise can get a bit samey sometimes so I tried to do something a little different. I dunno. Hope you like it, I x
You hadn’t slept in nearly three days. You’d managed to eat a couple of slices of toast but the unrelenting nausea made it hard to swallow. You sipped at water but by this point that was the only thing you were living off. Anxiety made your body shake constantly, even when you were busy pinning garments and making alterations your hands shook making the work that came so easily to you, so difficult. The only thing in your mind was how you could make it right, how you could fix the mistake you’d made. You knew you couldn’t, you knew you couldn’t because you’d always feared it being the other way round and when you thought about it and your gut tied itself in knots and you felt sick, you knew it wouldn’t have been able to be fixed. But it was you who had done what you never thought you could.
Three days had passed since the phone call, and now you were waiting in what had become your shared living room, your own flat virtually unlived in on the other side of town, waiting for him to appear. His flight was due in early that morning and as you sipped on black coffee, a bad decision considering you already had the shakes and your mind was working on overdrive, and watched the sunrise you were wondering if he felt as sick as you did.
‘Please tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing.’ Harry’s voice was monotonous, emotionless as it came down the line. He didn’t even say Hello, let you know how he was. You knew what he was talking about but you were hoping he wouldn’t know yet. You were going to tell him, you wanted to tell him before he found out from someone or somewhere else but you were too late.
‘I’m so sorry Ha-’
‘Fuck Y/N.’ He shouted and you gasped. You shouldn’t have been taken back, he was angry, of course he was angry, he had every right to be but he never shouted at you. You’d seen him get angry at others, seen him shout at others, but frustration with you was always harnessed into something calmer. ‘After everything you put me through about coming out here, you’re the one who actually does it.’ His voice was quieter but you could still hear the anger in it. You’d argued about him going out to LA again. He never seemed to be home much these days, you knew he was busy and it was an important time for his career but you missed him, you were lonely and every time he went to LA something happened, something kicked off and you were the one left at home without a clue what was really going on trying to hold the pieces together.
You’d told him you couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t sit in London fighting of paparazzi questions and tweets from fans and gossip mongrels whilst he sat back in LA and let it blow over. You knew that wasn’t what he did, if something happened he would call you and comfort you tell you he’d sort it, and he did but that didn’t stop the questions. ‘Have you spoken to Harry?’ ‘He’s cheating on you can’t you see it.’ ‘She’s an idiot to think she could keep him away from the models out there.’ How could you ignore it? He’d promised he’d be working the whole time he was there and he’d be back as soon as it was all sorted, there’d be no time for partying or socialising and it seemed there hadn’t been, but that wasn’t the case for you.
You’d been invited out for a night out with some friends and you decided to go. You’d been working to the death the last few weeks on your collection and you deserved to let your hair down. Apart from anything else it would take your mind of Harry for a while. And it did just that. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you let the young lad, that looked like a brit-pop throwback, who had been dancing too close all night, press his lips onto yours. You pushed him away as soon as you realised what was going on but not before someone in the club had snapped a picture. Within hours it was doing the rounds on social media before you even knew about it, by the time you knew it was too late to do any kind of damage control.
‘Harry please listen to me.’ You were crying now. You were scared of what what you could lose, you couldn’t be without him but it would be your own fault if he decided he couldn’t be with you now and you weren’t sure how to process that. He was silent, that was the only cue you needed. ‘I was lonely, I was missing you, I was st-’
‘You were missing me?’ He laughed in disbelief and you sobbed. ‘Missing me so much, were you missing me while you were kissing him?’ You stayed silent just sobbing. ‘Answer me.’ He screamed.
‘Harry please don’t shout at me.’ You begged, your voice faltering as tears flooded down your face.
‘Stop crying, you have no right to cry, you fucked up I’m the one that should be crying.’ He told you angrily, spitting his words down the phone to you. You knew he was right but you were shaking with the fear of losing him and you couldn’t help but cry. You breathed trying to hold it back. If it would make him tolerate your voice until you could explain, or try to explain, you’d hold the sobs back until you couldn’t breathe.
‘It just happened, he kissed me, I pushed him away and that was it.’ You told him quickly in one breath before you hiccuped. You wish you could see him, you wished he could see you. If he could see how much you hated yourself, how angry you were at yourself, how much you loved him maybe he’d realise.
‘Did you kiss him back?’ He asked quietly. In honesty you couldn’t remember, if it wasn’t for the photos you might not have even remembered the kiss had happened. You wished you could forget but now it was all you could think about. ‘You did didn’t you.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’ He laughed and you could hear his voice sticking to his mouth. His voice wetter, you knew he was crying now. Maybe he could cope if some random guy had come onto you, he’d seen you dancing on nights out, he knew how attractive you were, and yeah a guy might come onto you. Not when he was there because he wouldn’t leave your side when he was there but on your own, catching you unaware maybe he could get over that. But the thought of you pushing your lips, his lips, into a stranger was too much to bare.
‘Harry I’m sorry, I love-’
‘Don’t.’ He told you and sobbed loudly. ‘I don’t want to speak to you right now I can’t deal with it, I’ll see you when I’m back.’
‘I love you Harry.’ He didn’t reply and the phone line went dead before you could finish. Now you were about to see him. You’d thought about staying in his grey, random donut shop hoodie that you’d been wearing for the last three days but you didn’t know how he’d react so you opted for your hoodie and some jeans. Your uniform for working days. You could really do without this today. You needed to be in the studio, in only five days your first collection would be on the catwalk at London fashion week. You needed to be doing alterations, getting measurements, making sure everything was sorted but the two page long to do list on your desk hadn’t even crept into your mind yet. All you could think about was Harry, all you could think about was how all you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms the way he normally did when he got back from a trip but you knew that wouldn’t happen.
You heard his key in the door and you closed your eyes taking a deep breath. You didn’t move, you didn’t wander out to find him. Tears were already stinging your eyes as you heard him pulling his bags through the door and the door close heavily. It was seconds, but it felt like minutes until he was stood in the living room door looking at you. He looked as tired and weak as you did. The bags under his eyes were heavier and darker than you’d ever known them, and despite having been in LA for two weeks his skin looked pale and matte. The tears that had been stinging your eyes fell down you cheeks at the sight of him and he just shook his head.
‘Say something.’ You begged him, not moving as he took his first few steps into the room but not coming near you.
‘I don’t know what to say Y/N.’ He told you. He was staring straight at you but it felt like it was more straight through you. He didn’t know who you were anymore.
‘Will you let me explain.’ He shrugged and you swallowed hard on nothing, your coffee long since finished. ‘I was drunk, that’s not an excuse but I was, I can’t remember hardly any of the night-’
‘These sound like excuses Y/N.’ He told you looking cocky. That look would either normally turn you on or annoy you but right now it just made you feel even more guilty.
‘They’re not,’ You told him trying to assure him you weren’t excusing you inexcusable behaviour. ‘He’d been moving in on me and Jen all night and we pushed him away but finally I’d had enough and I let him dance with us, he obviously took it the wrong way-’
‘You seem to remember a lot of the night you can hardly remember any off.’ He interrupted again and you sighed. You couldn’t get annoyed at him for taking stabs at you or for interrupting you when you were trying to explain. And apart from anything else he was right.
‘He obviously took it the wrong way and he kissed me.’ You finished, Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.
‘And you kissed him back.’ He said it like he knew, like he’d seen it himself. You shook your head. ‘That’s what the papers and Twitter is saying.’
‘So you’re going to believe them over me?’ You asked he shrugged, he didn’t seem to care. Perhaps he was over it by now. ‘Harry you know what those people are like, you know the shit they come out with, I’m your girlfriend-’
‘No you’re not.’ Your heart broke in that instant. You were shocked into silence, your voice gone and your heart rate tripling. You wanted to fight back, to question it but you thought you might be sick if you opened your mouth. Harry moved closer to you, you could feel his breath as he pulled your face up to look at him. ‘I trusted my girlfriend with everything, I loved her with everything I am, I’d have gone to the ends of the earth for her, she’d have done the same for me.’ Your tears were falling fast and hard, blurring your vision so you could hardly make him out. ‘I don’t know who you are.’ He spat before dropping your face and walking away from you toward the stairs.
‘I’m going for a shower, I want you out by the time I’m done.’ You went to chase him, protest, he was already half way up the stairs by the time you got to the bottom and called his name. ‘I said I want you out Y/N, I don’t want you here right now.’
You sat at the bar on the other side of town from where you’d been three hours ago, waiting. Three hours ago you’d just finished your first show at London fashion week. For most it probably got lost amongst all the other, bigger, well attended shows, but for you it was the biggest deal, made bigger by Harry’s presence. He’d promised he’d be there, of course he’d promised before you’d betrayed his trust, you should have known he wouldn’t break that promise. Harry Styles was many things but he never went back on his word. You should have known that. He sat in the front row with other mutual friends of yours looking better in a shirt from your collection than the model who was wearing it. It certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, but it also hadn’t gone unnoticed by the journalists and paparazzi outside either. He’d told them he didn’t want to talk about your relationship but they couldn’t help themselves.
‘That’s one of Y/N’s pieces you’re wearing, isn’t that comment enough?’ One of them asked, Harry chuckled and rolled his eyes. You knew the sort of questions they would ask in the current climate, he knew too, you didn’t know why he stopped. You wished he hadn’t, you didn’t want to hear his potential answers, you didn’t want to hear the questions that were on everyone’s lips, yours included. But there were for you to ask, no one else.
‘Look, she’s a good designer I’m here to see the show, shall we leave it at that?’ Harry said before walking away. You saw the video on Twitter, there were the usual nasty comments alongside it and you’d been tagged in some of them but you ignored them all, just watched the video and closed the app. You were there to do your job, you were good at your job, you focused on that.
You caught his eye as you walked down the catwalk at the end of the show to a wildly loud applause. He was smiling,standing with your friends to applaud you and he even gave you a wink. You wished he hadn’t, it confused you even more than it comforted you. Once you returned back up the catwalk he was holding his phone up in front of his face and you felt a little less comforted. He didn’t care as much as he once would have done. It was that, that ensured you didn’t feel good about the meeting he’d proposed, the text coming through to your phone as you were taking garments from models.
Can we meet at the bar later?
It was vague but you knew where he meant.
Sure, I’ll be a couple of hours here so 7ish ok?
See you then
Those few hours passed too slowly. You were confident of what he was going to say, which way it was going to go. He wasn’t going to forgive you, he couldn’t. How could he trust you? If he couldn’t trust you what kind of relationship did you have? You knew it, you could feel it in your stomach but you just wanted to hear it. You wanted to see him, see if anything could be salvaged even if it was just the shadow of a friendship. The wink he’d given you, the proud smile on his face as you walked down the catwalk after your models, made you think that maybe.
It was all whirling around your head in a mess of thoughts as you sat at the bar, Long Island iced tea in hand. You moved it around on the bar, spinning it in your fingers occasionally taking a sip as you mulled your situation over and tried to put yourself in Harry’s shoes. You couldn’t though. He’d never done anything like this to you and you knew he never would. Your drink was half finished when Harry arrived. His hand on your back made you aware of your presence. You smiled weakly as he sat on the stood next to you leaning it to kiss your cheek politely, always polite. The bar man wandered over before anything other than ‘Hi, how are you?’ Could be said.
‘Can I just get,’ He hesitated thinking about it. ‘Ah screw it can I get a daiquiri and another Long Island Iced Tea.’ He didn’t even have to ask, he knew what you’d be drinking in here. Best Long Island Iced Tea in town he’d told you the first time he met you in this bar. He had no idea what he was talking about, and it certainly wasn’t the best Long Island Iced Tea you’d had in London but you couldn’t order anything else. ‘How was your afternoon?’ He asked turning to you, it seemed like a normal conversation wa going to ensure but you knew, not only because it was obvious, but because of the way he was playing with his lips that he was just waiting for his drink to arrive so you’d be undisturbed until he broached the subject.
‘Not bad ta you?’ You asked taking a sip of his drink, he nodded and shrugged. He was wearing exactly the same clothes as he had been earlier. Black jeans, of course, your white silk shirt, black leather boots and the black woolen trench style coat you’d bought him. ‘Where’s everyone else?’ You asked, you knew.
‘Gone for drinks you know that.’ You did know that, that was the plan for after the show. You were all going to go for celebratory drinks before a night on the town but things had changed and Harry was more important.
‘This is more important.’ You told him and he agreed with a nod as the barman bought your drinks over. Harry thanked him and took a sip of the pale yellow cocktail.
‘Collection looked great by the way Y/N.’ He told you with a smile and you thanked him nervously. ‘Got my eyes on a few things.’ He told you cheekily and you chuckled lightly through your straw as you slurped the last mouthful of your cocktail.
‘Well you get friends and family discount, and that’s not a bribe.’ You joked but regretted it instantly. ‘Sorry that was inappropriate.’ You looked down at the bar pulling the second drink closer and pushing the finished one away.
‘Don’t be silly it’s fine.’ He smiled placing his hand on your thigh. You sighed and tried to ignore the contact, you didn’t know what it meant and you were scared to ask. You’d missed it though, his hands on your, his arms around you, his lips. The small touch was enough for now, it was more than you expected and you’d take what you could get.
‘I’m so sorry Harry, I wish-’ You began but he interrupted you and took your hand, turning you in your stool so you faced him.
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He told you and you looked at him confused and slightly panicked. If he wouldn’t even hear you out you stood no chance. You thought he’d wanted to meet so you could talk but perhaps he’d already made his mind up, perhaps it was already over for him and there was no going back. ‘It was all a bit much at first and I didn’t handle it very well.’ You went to interrupt him, tell him he handled it better than you probably would have, that his reaction was more than understandable. ‘You were right, I should have trusted you over what everyone was saying and I do really it just took me a while to realise.’ You nodded taking it in. ‘I don’t want you to explain it, I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want you to apologise, I just want to forget it and move on.’ You thought you were going to cry from overwhelming happiness this was going in the complete opposite direction to that you’d thought and prepared for.
‘Harry.’ You gushed. ‘Are you sure, I mean I’d understand if you never wanted to see me again.’ You told him and he laughed.
‘Y/N you’re being ridiculous.’ He told you, your brow furrowed instinctively not quite believing what you were hearing. ‘A drunk guy in a club kissed you, you pushed him away, I mean I’m not happy about it but I’m not going to lose you over it.’ You laughed in disbelief and joy. ‘Let’s just be glad I wasn’t there or you might have been about to become a regular visitor at the local prison.’ You laughed again but this time with humour, everything felt right now and your hand in his didn’t feel like an intrusion. ‘I love you, let’s not something like this happen again.’ You nodded and leaned in to kiss him, savouring every second of his lips on yours. ‘I was thinking, you need to talk to your landlord about your flat.’ You nodded in agreement as conversation flowed in a way it might have done when he’d first arrived back from LA five days earlier, it was like the last week was erased and you couldn’t have been more grateful. ‘Also I’ve got a friend in LA who wants to look at your collection.’ Your eyes went wide and Harry laughed at your reaction.
‘Are you serious?’ London was one thing but the states was another. Harry nodded at you still chuckling.
‘She couldn’t get enough of this shirt and when I told you it was your design she asked if there was more.’ You laughed. You knew Harry Styles walking around in clothes you’d designed could only be a good thing but you’d never imaged it could be that good.
‘Oh my god Harry, thank you.’ You practically leaped off the chair and into his arms. ‘Thank you.’ You said quietly, comforted by his body so close to yours again his arms wrapped around you.
‘You don’t have to thank me, I’ve got nothing to do with you abundance of talent.’ He told you to which you giggled as you pulled back from him a little pressing another, single kiss against his lips. ‘Shall we go find the others?’ You nodded Harry downing the last of his drink before standing from his stool and taking your hand leading you out the door.
The next morning you wake up, naked in Harry’s bed. The smell of his sheets engulfing you. Harry’s side of the bed is empty but the sound of the coffee machine whirring downstairs and the smell of sweet, blueberry pancakes tells you he’s downstairs sorting the normal Saturday breakfast. You pull the heavy duvet in closer for a few seconds, enjoying his sheets alone for a little longer while you check your phone. You pull the charger out of it and the screen illuminates with notifications. Texts of congratulations, a couple of emails and a retweets but one twitter mention that catches your eye.
‘@Harry_Styles mentioned you in a Tweet!’
You unlock your phone slightly confused. It takes a few minutes to load but when it does you could cry. A photo of you walking back up the catwalk the previous day after your show. You’d worn a navy pant suit but lost the jacket earlier in the morning in the mess so you had the tailored trousers on, a black high neck top, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows and your everyday silver bracelets and rings glittering. Your hair was tied in a loose bun at the nape of your neck and the bright red lipstick you’d decided on to make you look a little more alive stood out. You had a smile on your face, a smile of relief but also a smile of dread as you saw Harry, phone in hand ceasing to smile and clap you. Now it made sense.
‘My gorgeous girlfriend doing me proud as she does everyday with you to the end. H x’ You felt the tears stinging in your eyes. It looked like it was directed to you, it was your twitter handle in the tweet but you knew it was a message to the world and everyone who continued to feel the need to ask questions and talk about your relationship like they had a clue about it. You took a deep breath and liked the tweet so he knew you’d seen it before swinging your legs out of the bed and searching for the donut hoodie that you couldn’t wait to put back on.