i heard the news today

Today while driving to work, I heard a news report of four individuals that physically and emotionally abused another mentally disabled individual. Hearing this story was painful. I believe we agree to these experiences in life to help with our soul growth, but painful nonetheless.

Let’s be more loving and kind to one another. Be more uplifting. Spread some cheer.

Carrie Fisher 1956 - 2016

Words can not explain how devastated I am to hear of Carrie’s passing. To me, Carrie wasn’t just an actress or the woman in the golden bikini. She was so much more.

To me, she was an icon, a hero, a person to look up to. Not just because of her role as Princess Leia, who is a great hero, but because of who Carrie was and what she did.

- Yes, she was a drug addict when she was young.
She overcame this. She fought.
- She was bipolar. She had troubles with her mental illness. And as she started to eat medicine she, as so many people do, gained weight.
Did media put her in the spotlight for it? Yes.
But that didn’t stop her, she didn’t listen to the bullshit.
- Carrie was always truthful and honest.
She talked about her mental illness, gaining weight, the life as a Hollywood star etc. She spoke real and honest about it and that’s what I love so much about her. Why so many people look up to her.

People today are still afraid to talk about bipolar disorders and mental illnesses. But she spoke about if freely. And I know people with mental illnesses, even friends of mine, who were inspired by her and looked up to her for it. For god’s sake, who the hell wouldn’t?

More than that, she was a kind, funny, smart, genuine and loving person. And my thoughts go out to her friends and family.

- I will miss you dearly Carrie. I am so thankful for getting the opportunity to follow your story in this life. May you rest in peace and may the force always be with you. ❤️

My issue with Elena of Avalor.

Let me start by saying ever since I was a child I have had one of the most serious loves and devotion to Disney animated classics and their stories filled with captivating music. As a Latino who’s been in love with Disney since he was young NOTHING would please me more than seeing my culture be represented by Disney in one of their fantastical animated features correctly with music and adventures and characters that will entertain for decades just like the others have. So knowing this if you had told me there was a Latina or Hispanic Disney Princess on the way I would have been ecstatic and jumping with joy at how amazing the news was. Yet today when I heard about what was happening on Disney Junior I didn’t feel any sort of rapturous joy at the news. Instead I felt a little….shortchanged. To put it bluntly this is not a victory for Latin@’s or Hispanic people and there is a very valid reason for that. To me this is not Disney creating a memorable story and characters for us. This is feels more like a copout.  

Before I get tons of angry messages let me explain myself. If Disney had quietly done this and just stated she was an expansion of the Sofia program I wouldn’t take issue not one bit. Sofia was supposed to be part latina but they never really got that ball rolling. So I suppose Elena will serve as that character for this universe and that is great. This is going to be a program tons of kids will enjoy and hopefully will provide some great representation and that in itself is good. But for me the thing I take issue with is when they start running headlines with “First Latina Disney Princess”. This tagline isn’t being used by the latest Disney animated musical, no instead it’s being used for a nice tv show that will sadly fade away much like all other tv shows once it’s off the air.  To me this kind of statement and marketing sends a clear message. We don’t think you’re culture or people are at a level of iconography or even profitability to warrant an animated feature film that will play on for decades in both parks, films etc. TV should suffice as your first entry into the famed Disney canon. And now people can say “don’t get upset you have a Latina Princess now, see shes there”. Not in theaters with music and animation that makes the story remembered for generations. But on a TV program that skews for mostly toddlers with that very kind of effort put into it. 

Again the issue here is that these kind of TV shows have short lifespans. They don’t carry the same nostalgia and longevity that Disney animated features do. You ask anyone on the street who Cinderella, or Jasmine, or Mulan is and chances are they can tell you. Ask them who Sofia the first is, they wouldn’t know unless they have a child who watches the program. That’s the issue here, It feels like Disney is settling on us here. HERE is what you wanted a Latina princess right? Well there she is right up there with Sofia.

I feel that as a culture we don’t deserve this. Imagine for a moment that instead of Tiana for Princess and the frog we got a Tiana sofia spin off? And Disney hailed that as their first Black Princess? There would be a ton of articles and people rightfully upset and wondering why isn’t this character good enough to warrant a film? We should have a film crafted by animators who know their work, not as Jorge Gutierrez shadley put it a character who more or less looks like a Maria knock off

And again to bring this point home Sofia isn’t even recognized as an official Princess by the Company, so neither would Elena. So even then where is our Princess? Cause all I see is a character for a Disney junior program. Not something that stands the test of time for generations while capturing the imagination and inspiring millions. While this is great for children who need more diverse media at home on the tv for me and many others this decision sucks everywhere else. To watch for the company to move forward in this direction, it just doesn’t sit well with me. The chance for the first real Latina Princess has been downplayed in such a way and instead used to promote a short spanned tv series that now whatever comes next won’t have that same effect. TV is apparently where the company feels we are most situated in. Not in an adventure of our own for the big screen. To see this happen and the marketing all pushing towards this “First Latina Princess” well it’s heartbreaking. 

If you are going to use Latin people as a point of inspiration and basis for a character and franchise then we deserve better, we deserve more, we deserve a real film.


A devoted and heartbroken Latino Disney fan.

Still can’t believe what I heard in the news today. Maybe it is still kind of a little shock. This talented young actor died on Sunday. To be honest with you guys I only new him from films like “Fright Night” or “Star Trek”, but it is still heartbreaking that a so talented young actor died. To find any words that I do not have currently, I thought I would write down a few quotes from some of the cast members or other actors. These are from Twitter, Homme Pages or interviews.

“I’ve loved Anton Yelchin. He was a true artist - curious, beautiful, bold A great friend and son I am destroyed…“  wrote "Star Trek” co-star John Cho

“This is unreal. Anton Yelchin was such a talent. So a great loss.” Anna Kendrick

“The sweetest, most humble, delightful, talented guy you’d ever meet. Worked together for about a year. Shocked.” Guillermo del Toro. 

“Devastated to hear about the brilliant Anton Yelchin. He was thoughtful, kind, and gifted. My thoughts and prayers are with his family.” Chris Evans

J.J. Abrams

“I can’t believe it , I m fckn hurting bad!” Karl Urban

“So very sad to hear the awful news about Anton Yelchin. Such a fine actor with his whole career ahead of him. He will be remembered always.” Mark Hamill

“Anton Yelchin was one of my best friends. Can’t say anything that conveys what this feels like” Kat Dennings 

R.I.P. Anton Yelchin (a.k.a. Pavel Chekov)

It would be weird if RiD!Optimus could use his skype powers even though he’s alive but instead of just Bee seeing Optimus reflection in a shiny thing [Mirrior, metal, lakes] it’s the whole team. And Optimus kinda uses it all the time that it becomes kinda of a special Bee Team thing. Like imagine Optimus just being like  

*pops in mirror* “Bumblebee can you pick up some milk” 

*Pops up in a puddle* “Strongarm and Sideswipe stop fighting”

*Pops up in a side mirror* “I heard on the human news that there will be heavy rain today so careful on the road today” 

R.I.P. Sean Price!
Motherfucker, this sucks big time! Couldn’t believe it when I heard, still don’t know what to say. Been meaning to do his name for a while now and I’ve been struggling to do it right. So I gave it a go again today after I heard the news, to show some respect for P! but today I was even more critical to it than usual, so I decided to leave it until I come up with something that will be good enough to go with a picture of this great MC!

Ah where was I, Oh yes
Sean Carter is nice but Sean Price is the best
Sean gone, no Chandon, Sean is a don, I don’t wear Sean John.

Rest in peace P! 

Zayn Smut

Rain. It’s always raining in this town nowadays. I don’t even know where it came from.Just one day while I was walking across the college campus, it was as sunny as it could be, but then it started raining. Hard. And it hasn’t stopped for two days.

As frustrating as it is, the rain does have some good qualities to it. Like the sound. The smooth drumming of the water on the coffee shop’s roof helps me clear my mind to write this ten page term paper that’s due tomorrow. It also helps me block out the sounds of others, like people coming into the shop to get coffee, conversations, and the screams of dedicated One Direction fans outside.

I’ve been so busy with college lately that I hadn’t heard the news until today, but one of the members of One Direction are in town. Not sure which one, though. Fans are lined up everywhere just to “accidentally” run into the band member, even in this kind of weather. Complete idiots, they are. Why in the world would you do some crazy stunt like that? People have nothing better to do, that’s why. Whereas I’m trying to do this damn goddy paper with all of those damn goddy Directioners screaming their damn goddy heads off. They’re screaming like he’s already out there, whichever one it is.

I type on my keyboard as fast as my fingers let me. I’ve procrastinated way too much on this paper when I know it’s worth a big part of my overall semester grade. If I fail this, I fail the whole class. I’ve never been more nerve wrecked in my entire life. I try to ignore any other movement around me but my own. I reach out without looking for my iced coffee when I realize it’s been refilled. My waiter must have replenished my glass while I wasn’t paying attention. I mentally thank him as I take a long sip and continue typing. God, my hands ache, but I can’t slack off. This needs to get finished tonight, or my ass is grass.

When you think about it, I’m only in medical school, but there’s no real significance in writing a ten page report all about medicine. It’s just medicine. Yeah, it saves lives, but who wants to spend their precious time going on and on about—

“Hey,” I hear a voice say. I suddenly look over to the left of my booth, but discover no one standing there. “Across from you,” the person says. I look forward and see a guy sitting on the other side of the booth slightly smirking. And what do you know? It’s Zayn Malik.

A surge of memories come back from my younger days when I listened to One Direction. I literally worshipped them, and I idolized Zayn. I would stare at Zayn’s GIFs on Tumblr for hours, put his posters on my wall, and I even wrote silly little fanfics about him. I always imagined one day meeting him and I wondered what I’d say to him to make a good impression. The kind of impression that would make him want to take me home. But now, since I’ve grown less fond of him, I just want him to fuck off.

I furrow my eyebrows as I peer over my glasses at him. “Took you long enough. I feel like I’ve been sitting here for ages,” he laughs.

“Why didn’t you say something, then?” I growl at him.

“I wanted to see how long it’d take for you to notice,” Zayn says, pulling his black beanie further onto his head.

“Did I tell you that you could sit there?” I ask.

“No, not really,” he answers.

“Then why are you there?”

Thought that maybe we could talk.”

“I’m just going to suppose you didn’t see me deep in work when you sat down uninvited,” I utter.

“Well, you look like you need a break, anyway,” Zayn says.

“And you want me to spend it with you? Didn’t your mother teach you not to talk to strangers?” I bark at him.

“Strangers are only strangers until you talk to them. Then they are either your friend or your enemy,” Zayn says, his eyes gleaming and his mouth smiling. My glare becomes harder being that his smartass mouth has pissed me off, but he doesn’t seem to budge.

“You think you can do whatever you want, don’t you?” I say. Zayn’s eyes pop in surprise.

“Excuse me?” he asks.

“Look, I know exactly who you are, Zayn Malik. You think that just because you’re famous and you pull a lot of authority that you can have anyone and do anything you want. Well guess what? Your shit won’t be working on me. But there’s a whole group of girls outside just waiting to squirt for you. They’ll do whatever it is that you want them to. But right now, I have some serious work to get done, and I’d appreciate it if you leave me be,” I snap.

Zayn stares at me in complete bewilderment. Then he throws up his hands in surrender. “Message received. Sorry for bothering you,” he says softly. He stands up and makes his way over to a different booth near the back of the shop. I push my glasses back up onto my face and sigh in frustration. He just wasted two good minutes of my time. Thank you, Bradford Bad Boi, I think sarcastically. I try to get back into the swing of things, picking up my previous pace, trying to remember the material I was typing in the middle of this sentence before I was so rudely interrupted. But the only thing my mind is telling me is, “You just met Zayn Malik. You just met your teenage idol. You just met the guy you used to be so deeply in love with, and you just said the worst thing a girl could ever say to a guy like him.”

My thoughts keep me from working, and I frequently keep stopping to clear my mind. My conscious gnaws at me with its sharp teeth of guilt. I shouldn’t have said all of that to him, albeit I meant everything that came out of my mouth. His back is facing me now, but I can see his shoulders are slouching in defeat. I know I must have hurt him badly. Wow, I broke Zayn Malik’s feelings. And know I’ve got to put them back together again.

I stare at Microsoft Word for a few seconds before closing my laptop. I stand, pick my laptop up, take a deep breath, and begin walking towards Zayn. He’s fiddling with the many bracelets on his wrist when I get close enough to examine him like that. He doesn’t perceive me at first. “Hey,” I say loudly. He immediately gazes up at me, then he slithers his eyes into a slight squint. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Guess not,” Zayn says with inquisitiveness. I sit down on the other side of the booth and set my laptop on the far side of the table by the window. When I look at Zayn, he stares back, wide-eyed.

“Look, I’m sorry for snapping at you back there. It’s just that I’m very busy with school, and I have this thing due tomorrow that’s nowhere near done and it really needs to get done. I’m just a little antsy,” I say.

“I get it. I shouldn’t have bothered you in the first place,” Zayn says back. I nod at him, and then there’s a long silence where we just stare at each other. “You know, you’re the first person to ever talk to me like that,” he tells me, breaking the awkwardness.

“Oh, really?” I ask.

“Yeah. And that was that fastest I’ve ever been rejected by a girl, so congratulations,” he says jokingly.

“And I guess that makes me special. More special than all the others, yeah?” I say sarcastically.

“Hey, interoperate it however way you please,” Zayn states.

“I meant what I said, you know,” I say.

“Yeah. I kinda deserved to hear it. Sometimes I forget that even though I’m famous, I’m no better than anyone else. You kind of put me back in my place,” Zayn says.

“No problem. It was my pleasure,” I laugh. He laughs as well.

“So, what’s your name, love?”

“Kourtney with a ‘K’,” I answer.

“Kourtney,” he repeats while biting his bottom lip. “Nice name. It fits you.”

All of a sudden, I get this overwhelming burning feeling in my face and throughout my legs. I start to panic on the inside at the impulsive sentiment. I immediately begin thinking of all the diseases I could possibly have. Do I have shingles? Could my nerve cells be deteriorating because of an unknown case of diabetes I may have? Had I come in contact with the blood of someone who is diagnosed with herpes? But then I realize that it’s not any of those things. It’s simply because I’m attracted to Zayn.

I feel ignorant for not figuring it out sooner. Zayn has always been very easy on the eyes. I just assumed I was over him, but now that he’s sitting right in front of me, I realize that I’m not. All of my feelings for him come floating back. He gazes at me with his light brown eyes as he smiles. His jaw line is covered in stubble just the way I’ve always liked it. His black hair quiffs at the base of his beanie. I can see parts of his collarbones that his grey V-neck T-shirt fails to hide. So, to sum all of that up in one sentence, Zayn is as sexy as he was the day I saw his picture for the first time.

The same waiter that waited on me comes over to the booth and had set a beige mug sown on the table in front of Zayn. Zayn thanks him and takes a sup of the drink, getting some of the whipped cream stacked on top onto his lips before he licks it off. “So Kourtney, does this mean you’re going to give me the time of day now?” he questions me.

I look over at my laptop. My paper’s still not done, and I never intended to stay and chat, but c’mon. It’s Zayn freaking Malik. Z A Y N freaking M A L I K. And he wants to talk to me. Besides, I do need a short break. What difference will five minutes make?

“I suppose so,” I say shrugging my shoulders. He nods tucking his lips into his mouth.

“So, what exactly were you working on?” he asks me.

“A ten page report for college,” I answer.

“What are you majoring in?”


“Ooh, you want to be a dentist?” Zayn says sort of surprised.

“Yup. A pediatric dentist,” I say.

“Children. I can just picture it now. Dr. Kourtney, prancing around in your cute little white coat and your short heels clicking away, making kids shudder in fear,” Zayn tells me as he smiles.

“That’s the dream,” I joke.

“Why exactly do you want to be a dentist?”

“I just do. It seems nice, helping kids learn how to take care of their mouths,” I say.

“Yeah,” Zayn grumbles, and I know by that that he doesn’t agree.

“Besides, my teeth got messed up at an early age.”


“Well, my mom didn’t pull out of my teeth when it was ready, so it ended up being really crooked,” I tell him.

“Did you get it fixed?” Zayn asks me.

“Nope,” I say.

“Can I see?” I open my mouth wide and show him my tooth, running my tongue over it. “Hey, it’s not that bad!” he exclaims.

“Psh, yes it is!” I protest.

“No, it’s not! It actually looks pretty cute,” Zayn says. I laugh.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Malik,” I say. He smiles at me. “So, what’re you doing in a town like this by yourself?”

“Well, I had never been to this state before. Thought I’d check it out,” Zayn says.

“Just like that? All by yourself?” I ask confused.


“That doesn’t make any sense,” I say.

“Maybe I’m just mysterious like that,” he says. I roll my eyes at him which causes him to snicker.

“But seriously, no Harry, Liam, Niall, or Louis?”

“Many people think we’re all joined by the hip, but we’re not. I mean, am I not allowed to go anywhere without them? A lad’s gotta have his space, you know? I wanted to come here alone. I don’t need their permission.”

“Sorry. I just figured that if you were gonna go someplace different, at least you’d have a friend along,” I say.

“Nope. I came solo. Tried to do it incognito, but you can see how well that worked out,” Zayn says.

“Yeah, you got the girls lining up all the way around the damn block. Anyway, how do you like it down here so far?” I inquire.

“Hm, it’s nice. Didn’t expect it to rain this much, though. But my visit is actually starting to brighten up.”

“How so?”

“Well, I got to meet this amazing girl,” he says.

“Hm, really?” I ask.

“Yeah. Met her in a coffee joint. She’s really pretty. Feisty, though. She has the most intriguing brown eyes I have ever seen, too, but she hides them behind her glasses,” Zayn tells me.

“Oh yeah, I know who you’re talking about. That girl can be a total bitch sometimes,” I say. This makes Zayn cock his head back and chuckle. I end up giggling, too. “Why do you even like her? There are way more attractive girls out there that I think you’d enjoy,” I say still keeping up the charade.

“There’s something about this one that the others don’t have. I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it’s because she looks so much like a good girl,” he says.

“A good girl?” I ask frowning.

“Yeah. She looks sweet and innocent with those cute little glasses on, the kind of girl who always tries to do the right thing. The girl that hold the peace, that does her classwork, who has never done anything bad in her entire life. But if she takes her glasses off,” Zayn leans forward, takes ahold of my glasses, and pulls them off, “she’s a whole different person. She’s that girl that will bite your head off if you mess with her. Yeah, she’s that girl that throws caution to the wind. The girl everyone wants to party with. The girl that guys dream about. The girl that likes it rough in bed and loves to give it rough right back. Am I right?” Zayn says.

“Somewhat,” I say. He folds the arms of my glasses inward and sets them down on the table. “Maybe you’re gonna have to stick around to find out.” I look down at his whip creamed drink. My index finger dives into the mountain of cream, and then it comes up to my mouth. I suck the whipped cream off of my finger as I stare at him suggestively. Zayn just smiles back.

“I just might want to,” he says.

“So, you think I like it rough in bed?” I query.

“I mean, yeah. Aren’t all good girls actually freaks in bed?”

”Freak? That’s completely different!” I exclaim.

“What? No it’s not.”

“Yes, it is!”

“Well, whatever it is, are you one?”

“How is that any of your business?”

“I just figured I would ask since you brought it up,” Zayn says.

“Well, that’s for me to know and for—“

“You to show me,” he finishes.

“What makes you think I’d wanna show you?” I ask him raising my eyebrows.

“Well, our conversation is going so well that there’s no doubt in my mind that you will,” he says matter-of-factly.

“How do you know I’m not taken? I might have a boyfriend.”

“No you don’t.”

“And what makes you say that?” I ask him, my face getting all hard again.

“Because if you did, you wouldn’t be flirting with me right now,” Zayn says, his lips forming into a sneer.

“Um, I most certainly am not flirting with you,” I retort, which I know I’m lying.

“Oh, sure you’re not. ‘Maybe you’re gonna have to stick around to find out.’, ‘So, you think I like it rough in bed?’ Yeah, that’s definitely not flirting,” he argues imitating my voice.

“Hmph, whatever you think that’s gonna make you feel like a big shot,” I grunt.

“Hey, I might not exactly be the smoothest guy, but I know when I’ve got a girl at least a tiny bit interested in me,” Zayn smiles.

“Haha, yeah, okay,” I laugh.

“So does that mean you’re interested in me now?” he asks.

“Nope,” I lie.

“Oh, c’mon! I know you are! The seductive little thing you did to my whipped cream, the sexy talk, it’s all obvious!” Zayn says almost yelling.

“That’s my sense of humor,” I say.

“Well, love, your “sense of humor” is very misleading,” he says doing air quotes when he says “sense of humor”. I just stare at him and laugh silently. Then all of a sudden, his eyes light up like he just had an epiphany. “I know what it is,” Zayn tells me.

“What what is?” I ask him truly concerned with what he thinks he just realized.

“You used to be a Directioner, didn’t you?” I look down at the table. “You were. I could tell by that little glint in your eyes when you smiled.” When I look back up, there’s this big cheesy grin on his face. “Aw, man, who was your favorite? Harry? Niall?”

Again, I stare down at the wood on the table and fold my lips into my mouth. “You,” I say barely audible.

“Who?” he asks.

“You, it was you,” I say louder.

“No wonder you acted so rotten towards me…at first.”

“Hey, don’t get cocky. That was when I was, like, thirteen. I’m an adult now,” I warn him.

“It’s not like you’re the first ex Directioner to pull that kind of act,” Zayn says.

“What act?”

“You know. You used to be so in love with me, but then you got older, so you decide to try to forget about me by pretending you hate my guts. You pretend to have outgrown me when you haven’t. You tried to talk all tough to me when I first sat down, but as we started talking, you just couldn’t help but flirt with me because you realized I’m still in your thoughts,” he explains.

“You don’t know how off you are,” I say. Zayn just leans in and stare deeply into my eyes. His auburn eyes look so warm and soft, so tender and fond. Everything I felt like I saw in his eyes back when I was thirteen are still there now. I can feel a twitch of a smile tugging on the corners of my lips, and I can tell he saw it.

“Now what was that about you not be interested in me again?” he asks sarcastically in a jubilant tone. I slump lower into the booth and sigh.

“Okay, okay. You got me. Yeah, I loved you back then, and might still feel attracted to you now,” I admit.

“Clearly,” Zayn mumbles loud enough for me to hear.

“I mean, c’mon, I can’t help it. Trust me, if it were up to me, you’d be out the door with all of the other horny college guys that try to take a peek in my pants,” I say.

“Ooh, burn,” he hoots. I can tell now that any insults I throw his way will not be taken seriously any longer. “I’m not surprised, though. I know you probably don’t want to have these feelings about me.”

“Unfortunately, I chose to love you way back forever ago. I always fantasized about meeting you, getting to talk to you, buy ya know what? Never in a million years would I have expected it to happen. But look who’s sitting in front of me,” I reply flatly.

“The one and only,” he states a little too confidently.

“Yup. The one and only,” I repeat.

“Why’d you choose me?”

“What? As my favorite from the band?”


“It wasn’t intentional,” I start, looking out of the window. “As a matter of fact, you were my least favorite at first. God, I just didn’t like you for some reason. Harry was my favorite, but I suppose that wouldn’t come of a shock to you,” I say.

“Not at all,” he sighs.

“Well, that was when I was first getting interested in One Direction. But the more I got into the band, the more I started learning about you; I understood that you weren’t as bad as I always made you out to be. You and I were more alike than I thought.”

“Is that so?” he asks me.

“Yeah. I sympathized your situation with you and your family against all of the people who ridiculed you because you’re Muslim. I knew what it was like to not have many friends in high school, but then suddenly have a flock of them when you’ve got what they want. I know what it’s like, trying to be bohemian and conventional at the same time. So, I guess that since it seemed like you were going through things that were sorta similar to my predicaments, I felt like I had this two-way connection line to you; I could see the line, but you couldn’t.

“And, you know, after giving you a second glance, you weren’t all that bad looking. I became doting towards your shiny, gelled, quiffed hair, your jaw line, your eyes, your laugh, the special way you would put your hand over stomach when you hit your high notes, your brownie face, every single little detail about you. Stalkerish, yeah? Hmph, yeah,” I finish as I shake my head and laugh.

“No, not stalkerish at all,” he says, though I’m sure he doesn’t know exactly what to say.

“All of your fans feel that way about you. I soon realized that there’s nothing special about me compared to all of those other girls.”

“Evidently there is,” Zayn says. I stare at him and he seems to understand that he needs to elaborate. “I mean, just look at all of those girls out there, wanting to talk to me. Yet I chose to talk to you.”

I let that mull over in my head for a while. Look at all of those girls out there, wanting to talk to me. Yet I chose to talk to you. He did choose to talk to me, out of all of those girls out there. There’s some pretty girls out there. Beautiful and gorgeous, wishing there were in my place right now. But he chose to talk to me. I chose to talk to you…

“Yeah, I guess,” I say down to the table.

“You’re cute, you know that? Like, funny cute,” he tells me. I know my cheeks are burning. I’m just hoping he can’t tell, but I’ve got a feeling that he can.

“Why’d you come over to my table?” I ask. Zayn looks at me tentatively for a minute before deciding to answer.

“I really don’t know. I just felt drawn to you. When I walked in and saw you after meeting fans from outside, I felt instantly sucked into your gravitational pull. It’s hard to explain, but you were sitting there on your laptop so focused. I just had this urge to talk to you,’’ Zayn answers me. I nod slowly while staring down at the table. “What does a guy like myself have to do to show a girl like you that I mean well?” he suddenly says.

I glower out of the window at the pouring rain for a good long second, and then I gape into his eyes. “I like cheesy pick-up lines.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Yeah. I think they’re adorable if they’re told right. And they make me laugh,” I tell him.

“Okay,” Zayn says, stretching the “ay” part out, like he’s thinking. “Ooh, I got one!” he exclaims.

“Fire away,” I say readily. He sits up straighter as he smiles.

“Okay, feel my shirt,” he says. He hold out part of his shirt towards me. I just look at him to make sure he’s serious. “Go on,” he says nodding. I reach out and take the neck of his shirt in between my fingers and rub it. “You know what it’s made out of?”


“Boyfriend material.” I give him a good look before I burst into pure, genuine laughter.

“That was a good one!” I exclaim. He winds up laughing as well.

“Okay, okay, okay, I’ve got another. Are you from McDonald’s? Because I wanna be the quarter pound of meat between your buns.”

I giggle at that one. It was provocative, but the way he said it made it sound funny. “Nice,” I say, my smile so big it begins to hurt my cheeks. He seems to start gawking at me dumbfounding. Like he could sit there and stare at my face all day.

“You’re really beautiful. Like, really, really beautiful,” Zayn says. There he goes, making me blush again, giving me goosebumps, making my heart race. I don’t say anything back mostly because I don’t think any words can come out of my throat, although I know that the correct thing to reply with is thank you. “You know, I feel like this coffee shop is getting a little stuffy, don’t you think?”

“Umm…yeah, I suppose it is,” I say back.

“I wanna get outta here, but I don’t want our conversation to end. You should come with me,” Zayn says.

“And where might you be taking me?” I ask him.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe back to my hotel room?”

“Just to talk?”

“Well, we might do a little more.”

“Like what exactly?” I ask.

Zayn looks down at the table smiling. Then he looks into my eyes. “I could kiss you, you could kiss me, and in the end, I could make you feel absolutely gorgeous,” he says coquettishly but seriously at the same time.

It doesn’t sound at all alluring or suggestive to me. Well, it does, but in a sweet way. For some reason what he said sounds cute. Nothing like when guys around town suggest the idea of getting together, when they just throw the idea out there like it’s no big deal. Like it was just something we could do to pass the time when we’re bored. And I know that him bringing up the idea is kind of overstepping a bit, but then again, it’s not. Not if I want it to happen. Which I do.

I know that he just came into my life, like, twenty minutes ago, but we sorta have a history. Well, I have a history with him. I’ve known of him since I was a young teen. What girl wouldn’t be fascinated by Zayn? And besides, just look at all of those girls out there, wanting to be taken back to his place by Zayn. Yet he’s choosing me to take back to his place. He places his hand on top of mine lying on the table.

I chose to talk to you…

* * * *

Zayn slams me against the wall of his hotel room and crashes his lips with mine. I moan as I pull his beanie off of his head and run my fingers through his silky mane. His hands squeeze my hips as he kisses me harder. My hands try to unbuckle his belt, but he grabs my wrists and smashes then into the wall with a thud. I’m taken by surprise as he stops kissing me. He stares into my eyes harshly and it almost makes me sink away from him. Zayn leans his head by my ear. “You wanna be my slut? Then you listen to me and do everything I say like a good little girl. If I tell you to get down on your knees, you get down on your knees. If I tell you to scream, you scream. If I tell you to bend over and take it, you bend over and take it. Understand?” Zayn whispers. Mm, no more sweet Zayn, I think, and I love it. It’s exactly what I want and need. To be dominated.

“Yes,” I say absolutely loving the way he’s talking to me with such demand and control.

“You are mine tonight, you hear me? I own your body,” he tells me.

“You own me,” I repeat.

“Remember, bad girls get punished. Are you gonna be a bad girl, Kourtney?” he asks.

“No,” I whisper back, although being punished doesn’t sound too bad right about now. He pulls back and stares at me. His usual soft eyes now look like deep, burning abysses.

“Strip,” he says to me. Zayn takes a few steps back giving me some room as he takes his own shirt off. I take off mine quickly, not wanting to wait too much longer. I kick my flats off across the room. I unbutton my pants and pull them off my legs. Zayn looks at me like he’s just itching to get inside of me. He steps closer to me and presses his torso against mine. “Mm, I’m going to fucking destroy your body,” he says. I’m so ready for this that that’s exactly what I want him to do.

I take my bra off as seductively as I can by pulling the arms off of my shoulders slowly. I unpin the clip in the front and pull off my bra. Zayn watches me closely as I remove my panties from my legs. I fold them up in my hands and shove them into the front pockets of his jeans. He smirks. “A souvenir, I see,” he says.

“You keep them. I don’t see me wearing them for the rest of the night,” I whisper to him.

“Because I’m gonna be tearing you open all night long, love,” Zayn says putting more emphasis on the word ‘love’. He can’t seem to control his excitement as his pants come off. I keep thinking the same thing over and over again: Zayn Malik is undressing for me. Zayn Malik is about to take off his briefs. Zayn Malik desperately wants to fuck me hard. I don’t know why, but he does, and I’m certainly not going to stop him.

Zayn drops his tight briefs, making us both exposed to the elements. I don’t look down at him, and he doesn’t look at any part of me. We just stare at each other’s eyes, breathing hard like we just finished. And suddenly, I feel so insignificant under Zayn’s gaze, so small. It’s as if he can hear my thoughts, because he smiles at me. He tilts inward to kiss me roughly on my lips. His hands grip my breasts, his thumbs pirouetting around my nipples. “Mmm,” I moan as he kisses me harder.

My left calf rubs up and down his leg in pleasure. I suddenly feel Zayn’s dick become hard against my torso. The feeling makes my loins sing in longing and thirst. My fingers play at the hair that nips the back of Zayn’s neck as I rub my flanks against Zayn intermediate, frantically wanting him to be inside of me already. “Someone’s getting impatient,” Zayn laughs. I keep myself quiet and focus on the thought of him cultivating my woman parts. “Down on your knees,” he says.

I kneel down until I’m down on my knees and I’m face-to-face with Zayn’s dick. Never would I ever think that I’d actually see it, but here it is. Large and hard and mine for the night. Zayn stares down at me as his hand rests on the back of my head. I take his dick in my right hand and I can feel his blood pulse. It’s all I can do to keep my hand from trembling. I put the tip of it in my mouth first, licking it with my tongue. I can hear Zayn groan quietly. I push his dick into my mouth a little more, running my tongue over every part very slowly. I suck moderately light, trying to make him go insane. I slowly push it down my throat, my tongue rubbing against his shaft. I pull his cock back out, my tongue twirling around his head. Already impatient, he pushes on the back of my head causing his whole rod to go down my throat. I gag and have to push away to breathe. I cough a little, and then I look back at it and stop messing around. I run my tongue up and down his shaft, moaning as I go. My left hand rubs and plays with the nipple on my left breast. I stare up at Zayn as rousingly as I can. He wants a dirty slut? Well, damnit, that’s what I’ll be.

I stuff his rod in my mouth and suck on it hard. He suddenly grunts outs loud as I feel his fingertips curl around my hair. “Fuck yeah,” I hear him whisper to himself. I can feel myself getting hot in my loins. God, my hungry, aching loins beg for Zayn constantly. I push his dick down deeper, letting it reach my throat. Then I pull it out and lick the head roughly. Zayn groans with his eyes closed. “Agh, shit, “ he says. I take his dick and hit myself in the face with it, feeling more turned on than ever. Zayn just moans my name out loud which makes me crave him even more. I then begin rubbing my hand up and down the length of hos cock fast and hard. More curses leave his lips as he pulls on the back of my hair. “You’re so fucking good at this,” Zayn murmurs.

I respond by putting it back in my mouth, bobbing up and down along with my hand. Zayn keeps mumbling things to himself as I keep going. My hands play with his globes, circling them round and round. Zayn forces his dick into my mouth, thrusting in and out. I gag in inclination as his cock baggers my throat. I gurgle as he grunts loudly. He pulls out leisurely, moaning to himself. I take his dick in my hand, feeling his length again as I breath hard. I lick and suck every part of him, my mouth feeling assailed and my throat feeling raw. I put his dick back into my mouth spinning my tongue around. He lets out this loud moan as my mouth fills. Sudden heat is all inside of my mouth as Zayn pulls out. His hand grabs my chin and positions it up so that we’re locked in eye contact. “Good girls swallow,” he says to me. I swallow his cum without a second thought. He smirks. “That’s a good girl. Now get up.”

Zayn pulls me up by my arms and drags me over to the bed. I’m pushed face down into the bed by Zayn. I prop myself up onto my elbows, meaning to turn over onto my back, but Zayn hold me down with his hand on my back. “Stay there. I just wanna look at that wet pussy for a while,” he says. I stop myself and just stare into the clean white pillows on the bed waiting for Zayn to do or say something. “Mmmm,” I hear him mumble. Suddenly I feel a hard clout on my backside, and a rush of pure ecstasy fills my veins.

“Ah, fuck,” I say.

“Like that, do you?” he asks me.

“Yes,” I whisper feeling way too easy since he’s found my weakness so quickly.

“What if I did it like this?” Zayn smacks me firmly in the middle of my legs right on my clit. I whimper loudly and fold the cover up into my fists.

“Shit, Zayn,” I cry.

“Or what if I just did this,” Zayn says as I feel him run one of his fingers up and down my pussy gradually, “slowly making you scream inside.”

“Please, Zayn…stop bantering me,” I plead.

“You want this dick bad, don’t you?” he asks me. I don’t say anything as my want for him becomes even more frustrating. “Say it. I wanna hear you say it,” Zayn says as he lets his finger lightly circle around my throbbing clit.

“I want that dick badly,” I whisper.

“What else do you want?”

“I want you to eat me inside out…I want you to tear my pussy open with your cock…I want you to fuck me until I break my damn back…I want you to make me scream until I lose my voice…I want you fuck me until my eyes roll back, till the only person’s name I’ll ever know is yours. I want you to be the best I’ll ever had.”

“I knew you were a freak,” Zayn says triumphantly. I feel him shove two of his fingers inside of me, making me squeal in shock. He slides them back out slowly. “Fuck, you’re practically dripping desire, love,” he says.

“Well maybe you should go ahead and fuck me before I get bored,” I say mockingly.

“Oh, no. I’m going to make you work for this, my little harlot,” Zayn says in a way that I know he’s smiling. He stuffs his long fingers back inside of me, almost feeling like the real thing. Zayn crams his fingers in and out of me sluggishly, pushing them in deeply against my walls. “So wet,” Zayn says more to himself than to me. I can barely bare Zayn’s mockery as I moan.

“Please go faster, Zayn,” I beg. I know Zayn loves to be in control. He loves hearing me moan and beg and ask for more. I just wish he’d actually give it to me.

Zayn abruptly rams his fingers into my body, going brisker and rougher. I bury my face into one of the pillows and groan his name. He slithers his big fingers inside of me, making this little clapping sound on my hind. I feel his fingers curve on the inside, hitting one of my spots which again, Zayn has had no problem finding. He keeps pushing and pushing, and I keep moaning and moaning. He gets so deep that for a second there I thought he was digging for something he lost. He spreads his fingers apart, widening out my pussy. He wriggles his fingers inside of me, making an oscillating motion. Zayn’s fingers leave me once again. I hear him smacking his lips. “Mm, you taste remarkable. Finger licking good,” he says. He puts both of his hands on either side of my rump and slightly pushes in opposite directions, spreading me open a little more. Then I feel Zayn’s tongue flick against my clitoris.

His tongue is so coarse and rugged that it causes me to call out like a wounded puppy. His tongue runs all over the place; on my clit, over my entrance, inside of me on my walls. I grip the edge of the bed with my nails trying not to make too much noise. He begins to suck hard on my clit, bringing the crazed me out.

“Ah, shit, Zayn,” I groan. He moans as he sticks his tongue inside of me, stroking the tip of it around my ramparts. I can hardly abide the delightful consummation. Zayn makes me feel unadulterated pleasure, something I haven’t felt in a long time. My skin starts to scorch away as I creep closer to my culmination. He slurps fiercely on my lower end, making me shriek in excitement. He manages to push his tongue in deeper as he eats me exhaustively. Zayn’s tongue comes out and grazes over my clit. And if I think Zayn can’t make me squirm even more, I would be wrong, because he starts nibbling on my clit resiliently. At first, it hurt, but then it started to feel virtuous. Guess that’s one of my new kinks that I didn’t even know I had. “Fuck, oh, fuck,” I gasp. He takes his thumbs and pulls my entrance open some more. His tongue goes back in, rubbing against my juicy walls. I’m getting closer and closer, ooh, so fucking close I can hardly stand it. And as I get closer, my moans get louder. And I feel so much relief when I finally hit my summit. I lament stridently and then take a deep breath to calm down. I feel Zayn make a few laps with his tongue to clean up all of my anticipation.

Zayn pushes himself up. “On your back,” I hear him say. When I turn over, I see Zayn wipe his face with his left forearm. I scoot back on my elbows as I peer at Zayn. I can’t tell if he’s staring at me seductively, or if he’s mad at me. His eyes just look so angry. But then he simpers at me. I notice that he has his dick in his hand, stroking it from the back all the way up to the tip. He just ogles me up and down. I can’t find any sign of whether he likes what he sees or not on his face. He just gives me that maddening little smirk, like he knows I’m waiting for something, anything. He just wants to see how long it will take me to start begging him to plow me.

He finally lies down between my legs on top of me, so much of his heat radiating off onto me. Zayn takes his left hand and wraps it around my neck, not quite choking me, but holding me down to the bed. He leans his face in so close to mine that we’re almost kissing. “I wanna hear you scream like my little fangirl,” he whispers to me.

I nod at him as much as I can. He begins roughly osculating my jaw as I feel him push himself inside of me abruptly. I swear I feel my heart thud against my chest hard as I utter a high pitched snivel. His lips graze down to my neck as he plunges out, and then back in. His hands restrain my wrists to the bed, no room for movement. He lifts himself up a tad as he shoves himself in again, having no mercy on my poor, helpless haunches. He grunts as our skin becomes one over and over and over again. He pecks at the skin between my breasts lightly as I try to lift my hands from the bed to wrap around his neck, to pull his hot body closer to mine. Zayn’s hair droops onto my body, losing its finesse and structure. I take in and experience every inch of his manhood inside of me. It stretches my walls and hits my spots every fucking time, and every fucking time, I scream his name.

I scream like I’m at a One Direction concert back in 2013. I scream like Zayn has pulled me up onto the stage and serenaded me by singing Right Now. I scream like he’s done all of the things I ever wanted him to do when I was thirteen. I scream and holler and I don’t hold back, because his dick feels too amazing not to scream, his kisses are too sweet not to yelp, his body on mine is too searing not to screech. “Ah, fuck, Zayn! Yes, ahg, fuck yeah!” I shriek.

He releases my wrists to jest with my breasts. He crushes them in his palms as he pushes down on me, his rod rammed as far in as my body will allow. My hands immediately wrap under his arms and to his back. I rub the skin covering his vertebrae as I stare up at the ceiling. Zayn bites down on his bottom lip as his brows groove together in concentration. “This is mine. I fucking own this!” Zayn yells.

I tangle my fingers in his hair, molding it this way and that. Zayn leans up and grasps the headboard of the bed. I instantly begin hearing the bang of the headboard on the wall, the sweet sound of motivation. The sound makes me hot at Zayn plows my pussy open. Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump…

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, Zaaaaaayyyyyyyynnn!” I cry. Zayn purposely speeds up, making the banging louder and faster. THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP. He grunts and groans nonstop. I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna be able to endure this kind of pleasure and force. I already feel myself getting sore and tender in between my legs, but I never want to stop hearing the slap of our skin smashing together.

“What’s my name?!” Zayn screams.

“Zayn!” I answer him.

“I said WHAT’S MY NAME?” he says louder at the top of his lungs.

“ZAYN! MM, OH, SHIT, ZAYN! YES, AH, YES!” I bellow. My whole body fills with a tingling sensation, causing my toes to curl up. Sweat spools down his tatted chest right down his happy trail.

“Fucking yeah,” he grunts. My hands hold my breasts together as Zayn gives it to me harder. Without warning, he stops and gradually drags himself out of me. “Shit, you’re so freaking tight,” Zayn says. I look down at him, wondering why he stopped making me feel good. He prods his tip in and out very slowly. My right hand massages my clitoris as his head slides in and out. I get frustrated and irritated, wanting Zayn to just fuck me until I pass out and not being able to receive my wish.

“Zayn, please…please fuck me harder,” I beg him.

“You’re the best fucking fangirl ever,” Zayn says looking between my legs.

“Please, Zayn,” I say.

“Aw, didn’t I tell you that you liked it rough in bed?” Zayn snickers.

“Please,” I say louder.

“Mmm, I love hearing you beg.” Zayn rams his rod inside of me causing my whole body jump. I yelp in shock. He sits all the way up between my legs as his hands seize my hips. His momentum gets faster and faster, just the way I like it.

“Oooh, Zayn…yes, God, yes!” I yell. The springs in the mattress start to scream right along with me as I feel our bodies’ rock back and forth. Zayn’s fingers squeeze my hips even tighter, pulling my body closer as he thrashes my pussy. My legs helix around his midriff, nearing closer, bordering my pinnacle. My fingertips dig into the sheets, drawing them towards me as my entire body becomes frail. My back tries to arch upward. My lungs fill with fire as I respire desire. Zayn’s hands move up my legs, hugging my thighs forcefully with his vast fingers. His teeth clench together as his eyelids close densely. I involuntarily wrap the sheets around my upper body, my eyes slowly rotating to the back of my head, my moans becoming gasps for air consistent with his strong drive. Zayn loses his vigor, his thrusts becoming lopsided. His chest moves in and out deeply.

“Uh, I’m almost there!” Zayn screams to the ceiling. My arms wrap around my own chest, ready to fall over the edge. I tighten my walls around Zayn’s rod. He feels it as I sense his body tense up. “SHIT!” he yells at the top of his lungs. And he hits me in my middle one more time before I’m subjected to my lungs shrieking with complete satisfactory. Almost simultaneously, Zayn punitively shoves himself completely inside of me. He tilts his head back with his mouth agape to let out his content moans. I feel his fluids fill me, balmy and sultry. His hands stroke my thighs and legs gently. My own hands rub against my body, not sure which part is boiling the most. He lays down flat on top of me, breathing like he’s just caught whiff of fresh air after being underwater for too long. Our breathing is synchronized with each other. He sloppily kisses my neck and my jaw as my fingers draw lines on his damp back.

I stare up at the ceiling as it all becomes real to me. And I then realize that I let Zayn get the best of me. He slithered his way past my boundaries and my steep walls with his sweet talk and his suave. He took my weaknesses and used them against me to get what we wanted from me. I mean, he always does, doesn’t he? He’s Zayn Malik. And I was stupid enough to let him. Or maybe it wasn’t I who was stupid. Maybe it was him who had gotten so smart at manipulating girls into doing things they never knew they would that he could even trick the toughest, hoax the most intelligent, ruse the prettiest of girls. He could even con me.

I don’t know what I was really thinking I would get out of all of this. Yeah, I knew I was gonna be ravished good by my lifelong boy band love, but I was naïve to think that there would be something more than that. I was foolish to think that Zayn actually sees something past my exterior. I’m so freaking clueless. He set it all out there for me to see! Zayn just wanted to find a girl decent enough to fuck. He found one; me. And I gave that to him. And I just threw my school work onto the back burner. It’d be a miracle for me to finish all of that shit now.

Zayn leans over to the left side of the bed and lies down on his back, still panting. I’m not very sure what I should do now. He probably wants me to leave. I mean, I wouldn’t blame him. Who would want a floozy tryna stay over after her job is done? I take the sheets and cover my body as I sit up. I comb my hair back with my fingers as I get my words together. “Um…I think…I’m gonna go now,” I say as I’m about to rise to my feet. I feel Zayn’s hand wrap around my wrist as he pulls me back.

“No. Stay,” he says between breaths. I could think of a million reasons why I shouldn’t. I have a life to get back to. I can’t just sit here and play pretend with Zayn. I can’t just drop everything to give him what he wants again. But then again…I haven’t been using my head this whole time, and things have worked out rather well for me. Why start using it now?

I lie back down beside Zayn. He scoots his body closer to mine and enfolds me inside of his arms. He snuggles his face into my neck and pecks his lips against my skin lightly. My doubts about staying seem to fade away as I begin to feel tranquil in his embrace. “I bet you feel pretty damn special now,” Zayn whispers. I just smile. Zayn doesn’t know how right he is. Or maybe he does. I don’t care. All I care about is this minute, this second, this moment where I’m in Zayn’s arms. And that’s exactly where he wants me to be.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *