Music was thundering throughout the place, the heavy beat of drums and deep bass strums were resonating around the apartment and you could feel the floor vibrate from underneath your feet. Your stomach dropped and you could feel the pit of your belly clench at a particularly loud bash and your gaze flew to the trio of young men who were currently providing a live cover of Mr. Brightside - the ultimate party rock anthem.
The plastic red solo cup quivers in your fingers and the murky brown cheap beer ripples in time to the rhythm, you bring the chewed cup lip to your mouth once again and with a grimace you hack another gulp. The bitter mixture causes your face to scrunch in distaste and a wet cough passes your lips before you raise a hand to smother it.
You glance around the apartment and from across the room you spot him, your best friend Harry - the reason why you were not currently sat on your sofa swamped in blankets binging a re-run of Friends. You have to admit, that boy was really bloody convincing when it came to getting you to do things you didn’t want to, like going to this party for example. Harry had promised you a dance together, a safe lift there and home, and that he would not ditch you.
That pact hit the floor the second he stepped through the door. In seconds, Harry’s hand had been pried from yours by his week old girlfriend (not before she shot you a snotty glare) leaving me in the hallway alone, surrounded by drunk strangers who all seemed to claim a sense of loyalty to Harry as they high fived him while he strolled through the apartment.
From afar, you can’t help but watch Harry and his girlfriend. He’s sitting on the sofa and she’s found a home in his lap, both completely oblivious to the people that surround them who are trying to socalise with them. They paint a picture of bliss, purity and love as she giggles at a remark Harry whispers into her ear; his fingers caressing her thigh, his thumb softly stroking her.
The sight leaves a bitter taste on your tongue and you knock back another drink. A sudden cheer from the crowd snaps you out of your trance and your eyes follow the source of everyone’s excitment, but when you find Harry and the leggy brunette with their lips locked together you spin around so quickly that you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash.
You need fresh air.
After you shove your way past a herd of giggling drunk girls and hefty men, you find yourself in the corridor of the building. Using whatever engery remains, you crank open the the window at the end of the hall and stick your head out as you lap at the cold and refreshing air.
“Shake out of it, Y/N.” You whisper to yourself and you close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Get yourself together.”
“Watch it sunshine, don’t blow away."
On cue, a sudden rush of warmth cradles your hips and you try not to react to Harry’s comforting hands that rub soothing circles over your skin. A small smile plays at your lips but at the same time it pisses you off that he has such a subtle and calming effect over you.
Honestly though, you hate yourself more for falling for him - period.
"Whatch'a doin’ out here anyway, love? The party’s back in there?”
You send him a curt, forced grin.
“Just needed some fresh air is all.”
You want to wince at how cold you sound.
Harry stops rubbing your skin, but the cold tips of his fingers are still ghosting over your hips as his fingertips leave a trace of his DNA.
“What’s wrong, love? You can tell me anything Y/N, I’m your best friend…"
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why Harry is such a head fuck!
Best friend’s don’t just do that! Let me tell you - friends have boundaries but with Harry the lines are so blurred. He has a girlfriend but sometimes you swear his gaze lingers on your lips when yous are talking. Pals do not just call each other endearing pet names and hold each other how Harry holds you!
"Y/N, please ta-”
“Just leave me alone, Harry."
You can hear the pain in Harry’s shaky inhale but he tugs your wrist and tries to get you to talk again.
"Y/N, you have to talk to me.” He reiterates, concern lacing his voice.
“Go back to your girlfriend.” You bite sourly, pulling away from his grasp and starting to walk down the hall. Your welcomed stay is now way overdue and you need to get out of the place before you say something you’ll regret.
“Wha’? This is about Jen? Are yeh annoyed because ah left yeh for a second to say hi to her? God forbid ah spend some alon-”
“This is not about Jen, Harry. Wh- why would you even think that she’s the issue?”
Harry has completely retracted now, his hands are crossed over his chest and he’s staring at you. There’s not much warmth in his eyes anymore and you’re afraid that his misplaced irritation is only going to make you blurt out something you don’t want to.
“Because! Because yeh always refuse to hang out with me when Jen is around it’s like yeh hate her and ah can’t have ma two favourite gals in some pet-”
Harry doesn’t finish his sentence because in a split second you slam your lips onto his. His lips don’t move, their stoic and blank against your own desperate chapped ones and you fear for a horrible moment that you’re about to be completely rejected when Harry’s lower lip drops. Suddenly he’s sucking your bottom lip as he slips his tongue past your lips and your hand snakes around his neck to pull him closer.
Harry moans softly, his hot breath fanning over your wet lips and you rake a hand through his well gelled hair. Your head was spinning, behind your eyelids you were seeing stars and you realised this is how the universe was supposed to work.
It was always going to be you and Harry, right?
“This, this is no’ right, Y/N. We’re friends - best friends!"
And so the illusion is shattered. You watch as Harry runs a hand down his sweaty face, past his swollen lips you were kissing only moments ago and the look of terror and guilt that flashes across his features only spurs your anger.
"I’m fucking in love with you, Harry!” You shout, your inhibitions now numb. Harry jumps back in shock and his face falls, jaw almost scraping the floor. All he can muster is a simple, “What?”
“I, I’m in love with you Harry. Have been for a long time.” You try not shake but your fingers twitch by your side. You will yourself not to cry.
“Y/N, I-I have a girlfriend…”
“Open your eyes Harry she’s not right for you!” You cry, throwing your arms up. The tension in the corridor has doubled, tripled even and you’re so glad Harry had a mind to close the door when he followed you out into the hallway otherwise yous would most definitely have a hungry crowd by now.
“Please tell me you feel something for me. Tell me I’m not an idiot and that you haven’t been leading me on for these past few years of our friendship…” The begging tone in your voice is tragic, and you’d be so utterly embarrassed but Harry did kiss you back.
“Leading you on?"
"The pet names Harry! The touchy hugs - for god’s sake you kissed me back! You can’t tell me it was all platonic!"
Harry is silent, and all that can be heard is our heavy breathing, your jittery cries and muffled music. Harry’s next words are quiet and tentative, you can tell he doesn’t want to set you off.
"Y/N, it was a mistake… I-I don’t think of yeh like tha’, we’re… we’re just friends.” The sympathy in his voice makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. You wish you never fell for Harry’s empty promises.
“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it!” You’re screaming now, tears are rolling from your eyes and your will power has withered.
“We’re best friends - remember?” Harry visible cringes at your sarcastic laugh and you smile.
“So just forget I said anything, go back to the party Harry. You have someone waiting for you."
You turn your back to him and after an agonizing minute, the sound of the apartment door opening then slamming shut sounds, and you squeeze your eyes as you stand alone.
Reylo shippers/the people who have the most extensive knowledge of the dynamic of Rey and Kylo: we have accumulated a lot of evidence over the last year+ and studied the film very closely to put into words our interpretation that there is a romantic angle and possibly foreshadowing of a two sided love story in the trilogy between Rey and Kylo.
Most fanboys, news sites and general Star Wars fandom: THAT IS THE MOST STOOPID IDEA I HAVE EVERY HEARD, REY IS SO OBVIOUSLY A SKYWALKER DUH, KYLO KILLED MA FAVOURITE CHARACTER HE CANT BE REDEEMED OR HVE HUMANITY IT MAKES ME UNCOMFORTABLE !!! REYLO SHIPPERS AND ALL FANGIRLS NEED TO BE TAUGHT HOW TO DO STAR WARS PROPERLY-OUR WAY-SO THERE
Mike zeroh: wait a minute guys, hear me out I just came up with a theory, maybe Kylo has compassion for Rey and they could fall in love, after over a year I have come to this sudden realisation
Most fanboys, news sites and general Star Wars fandom:
WHAT AN AMAZING ORIGINAL THEORY MIKE!
If you’re writing a Star Trek fic, and you’re trying to make your representation of the characters as authentic as possible, sure, do some research into their home cultures, but don’t lose any sleep over it.
TOS takes place 200-odd years in the future. How much will the world change in that time? If you want to make Scotty’s favourite food Ma Po Tofu, go right ahead! Just because it’s not a widely consumed dish in present-day Scotland doesn’t mean it won’t be in the distant future. I’m pretty sure Scots in the early 1800s didn’t eat curry, but it’s practically the national food now.
Same for McCoy. He’s from Georgia, but you don’t have to give him traits that are from present-day Georgia. It’s okay if you want him to love bourbon and peach cobbler, but it’s also okay if you want him to love spicy lamb tagine and rice wine instead.
Don’t worry so much about making the details ‘right’ by our current standards, because they won’t mean shit 200+ years in the future. Plus, think of the fun you’ll have coming up with the reasons why the customs and cultures change so much between now and the TOS era.