#conversationsofyou

🎉Happy Birthday Lauren!!!🎉 @kingsofeverything

You're truly an inspiration to me and countless other authors and readers in our fandom/community.

In honor of another trip around the sun, here's a snip from Fastlove for you.

_______________________________

"There is something in the New York air that makes sleep useless."

~Simone Bouvier

_______________________________

After their munchie buzz had been satisfied, they circled back to Harry's list of favorite sugar obsessions.

"Drum roll…" Louis drums his hands against his thigh as instructed.

"Reese's Peanut Butter Cups."

Louis begins a slow clap. "Well done, mate."

Harry smiles. "I know. It's a gift."

"Reese's are me favorite as well."

"Yeah?"

"Come on, chocolate and peanut butter? Perfect marriage."

"How come Mounds don't get any love. I'm a big fan."

Harry and Louis turn to Niall in horror.

"Heathen." Harry gasps.

"You're putting me on. Ni, how long have we known each other and I've not once seen you consume a bloody Mounds bar." Louis mock gags.

"That's like, the bottom of the totem pole of confections, Niall. M'fraid I side with Louis on this one." Harry nods.

Niall rolls his eyes. "Shocker, that."

"Hm?" Louis squints at Niall.

Liam asks, "Is it an Irish thing or…"

"What?" Niall furrows his brow.

"Like, are Mounds popular in Ireland is what I meant."

"Oh. I've not a clue, mate. Just like 'em is all."

"Mounds are disgusting. I've lost all respect for you Niall." Zayn murmurs with his eyes closed in a half sleep state, face nestled in between the couch cushion and his hand. His legs are draped over Liam's lap.

They all look at each other and laugh.

"You know, this is why I keep my mouth shut and mind my business." Niall huffs as he wobbles upright and walks toward the restroom.

"Awww Nolson. We still love you despite your terrible life choices!" Louis shouts after him.

Everyone laughs. Even Zayn. Who blesses everyone by opening his honeysuckle eyes. He turns his head and looks out the window.

"H."

Harry turns toward Zayn and tracks his eyes gazing out the picture window. He smiles as the dawn paints the sky in tangerine waves and streaks of lavender.

"Roof." Liam announces.

Harry turns to Louis as he answers Liam. "Roof."

Louis tilts his head in a silent question.

"You may have a penthouse terrace that wild dreams are made of, but us pensioners have a rooftop."

Louis grins. "Lead the way."

Harry jumps up and holds out his hand for Louis to take. "Sunrise awaits."

"Open."

Louis slowly allows his blurry eyes to adjust to the view. "Wow."

The five of them align in a row as they take in the Brooklyn skyline. You can see Manhattan from where they stand, but that's not even the highlight. Where Harry's building is positioned, it grants them a stunning peripheral view of water and sky. It's gorgeous. Not one cloud to disrupt the smooth layers of colors. They all blend seamlessly to form the most beautiful pallet.

"Well, this is something." Louis says softly. More to himself than for anyone to hear.

Zayn's head is perched on Liam's shoulder. Liam's smiling as the day breaks. Niall takes a pull from a joint and tilts his head up to the sky as he releases the powerful smoke. Harry's staring at Louis.

Niall clears his throat. Harry turns and sees his smirk and a sly wink as he takes the offered joint.

"Foot on the pedal, never ever false metal."

Everyone turns to Liam.

"Engine running hotter than a boiling kettle."

Zayn lifts his head and smiles.

"My job's ain't a job, it's a damn good time

City to city I'm running my rhymes."

Liam points to Harry. He smirks and joins in next.

"On location, touring around the nation

Beastie Boys always on vacation

Itchy trigger finger but a stable turntable

I do what I do best because I'm willing and able."

Niall cackles and continues the next verse.

"Ain't no faking, your money I'm taking

Going coast to coast watching all the girlies shaking

While you're at the job working nine to five, The Beastie Boys at the Garden - cold kickin' it live

No sleep 'til -

Another place - another train

Another bottle in the brain

Another girl - another fight

Another drive all night."

Louis takes over and Harry loses it as he polishes them all.

"Our manager's crazy, he always smokes dust

He's got his own room at the back of the bus

Tour around the world, you rock around the clock

Plane to hotel, girls on the jock

We're trashing hotels like it's going out of style

Getting paid along the way cause it's worth your while

Four on the floor - Adrock's out the door

M.C.A.'s in the back because he's skeezin' with a whore

We got a safe in the trunk with money in a stack

With dice in the front and Brooklyn's in the back

Why won't you take my ride."

They all shout the next lines as the sun graces the horizon.

"No sleep 'til

No sleep 'til

Brooklyn!

No sleep 'til

Brooklyn!"

Last but never the least, Zayn joins in.

"Ain't seen the light since we started this band

M.C.A. - get on the mic my man

Born and bred Brooklyn - U.S.A.

They call me Adam Yauch - but I'm M.C.A."

Liam closes out the final verse.

"Like a lemon to a lime - a lime to a lemon

I sip the def ale with all the fly women

Got limos, arena, TV shows

Autograph pictures and classy hoes

Step off homes - get out of my way

Taxing little girlies from here to L.A

Waking up but I get to sleep

Cause I'll be rocking this party eight days a week."

They belt the end of the song as rays of golden autumn sun warm their skin.

"No sleep 'til

No sleep 'til

Brooklyn!

No sleep 'til

Brooklyn!

No sleep 'til

Brooklyn!

No sleep 'til

Brooklyn!"

💡To all the other brilliant and talented mutuals/writers/creators/burnt geniuses, if you have anything to share💡

thanksssssssss! you and @beelou both asked for fangs :D

“You’re not a vampire!” Louis screams, then opens his mouth wide, and fangs seem to appear from nowhere. “Can you do this?”

a birthdaze snip from Fastlove in honor of another trip around the sun. tis the season 🫶🏻

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Song: Take The A Train by Duke Ellington 

It's a quarter past five o'clock, peak end of day travel. All the nine to fives are itching to get home. Harry and Zayn have been riding the subway for a few minutes. The chaos that is Manhattan rush hour has begun. It's an unspoken way of life for New Yorkers, don't draw attention and mind your business. 

Harry's trying and failing to not suffocate to death from the designer denim he decided to wear straight out of the store. They didn't feel this stiff in the fitting room.

After much deliberation, they agreed on a few different washes. Zayn managed to pull a rabbit out of his hat and convinced Harry to buy a white pair of jeans. Zayn took a photo of him in them and sent it to everyone in the group chat.

Of course their close friend Nicky, who's also a fellow drag queen from Lucky Cheng's, chimed in first and asked where Harry's dick had disappeared to. Harry proceeded to shove the phone down his pants for a quick shot as hard evidence. 

Now, filled with deep regret, Harry shifts and struggles in the orange and beige plastic seat. 

He attempts to be as subtle as possible while grabbing his crotch. "Shit. They're so fucking tight," he whispers.

"That's what he sa—" Harry pinches Zayn's nipple. He doesn't even flinch. 

Harry releases a meditative exhale. "I feel like I can't breathe and my balls will never forgive me."

Zayn shakes his head. "They're brand new designer jeans. Of course it's cramped in there. Why is this an issue? Your jeans normally look painted on."

"Don't mock my pain."

"I told you to wear your old ones out of the store. Designer needs time to meld to your body."

"They're not new shoes. I don't need to break them in." He stretches his legs out to admire his new boots.

"Says the one who owns two pairs of jeans."

He grips onto Zayn's bicep. "Thank you Zayneth, overlord of retail. Do you finally receive your horns with another sacrifice to the fashion gods?"

"You'll be thanking me when someone with a modicum of good taste notices how hot you look in overpriced jeans. Just lay one on me now, you know I'm right." Zayn nudges his sharp cheek in his face.

Harry rolls his eyes. "I don't care if anyone notices," he mumbles through a smile and kisses Zayn's cheek.

The suit beside them clears his throat. Harry glances over as the bloke squirms in his seat, discomfort evident from their harmless embrace. The Wall Street Journal's clasped tightly in his fingers. He flips a page obnoxiously to drive the point home.

Zayn, never one to bite his tongue, snips, "Something wrong, sweetheart?" He angles his head toward the man's face.

"Zayn..."

"No H, I'd like to know what the fuss is." He edges closer. "Oh cupcake, did your Viagra stock plummet?" He clicks his tongue against his teeth in mock sympathy. Harry needs to get them off this train before The Brooklyn is fully unleashed.

"Not now. Look, our transfers next. Get up." 

He grabs Zayn’s hand to spring him into action. The familiar monotone voice announces the next stop over the crackled speaker.

Song: Where Angels Fear To Tread by Disclosure 

Harry collects the copious amount of shopping bags and nudges his tempestuous friend, urging him to move. Wills him to. Zayn stands up to leave and, of course, blows a kiss to the suit.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

any day snippet🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞🎞

Fastlove

"Art is life seeking itself. It is our intractable expressions of love for the beauties, ideas and epiphanies we regularly find." 

~Vincent Van Gogh

Harry sits down in the middle of his art studio. He smiles at all of the supplies he's bought. This is his favorite part. The organizing and sorting through everything. It's getting ideas onto the canvas afterward that become lost in translation.

His index finger rests against his lips in contemplation. "What do I want to say…" 

He stands up and walks to the kitchen to get some water. It's not a procrastination tactic. Hydration equals a clear mind. He opens the freezer for no reason other than to open it. His eyes land on a resealable plastic bag with tin foil wrapped blocks of who knows what, shoved into the corner. He takes the bag out and opens it.

"Oh shit." He shakes his head and laughs. "Is this a sign, Matty?"

Inside are pot brownies from the last batch Matt made for him. Ages ago, Harry saved them for a rainy or in his case, uninspired day. He'd completely forgotten about them until now…

Those closest to Harry expressed their sympathies. They said his break would come soon. More of the same rubbish. Harry advanced to a new level of pessimism after that. As friendship goes, that's what you expected to hear. It didn't ease the knots in his stomach nor his bruised ego. Life of a starving artist and everyone else was full of shit. Maybe he wasn't hungry enough. Maybe his father was right all along. He'd be pleased to know Harry hadn't signed the final contract for his first exhibition. It was to be held at the gallery that could've given him the exposure he fantasized about since attending Pratt.

Unfortunately, the deal fell through due to some "scheduling conflicts." Which translated in the art universe, that a much more seasoned and well known artist bumped Harry's chances. He was in self-pity mode and felt utterly defeated. He told everyone. Probably his first mistake before he signed the dotted line.

Matt came by to cheer him up with Chunky Munky and pot brownies. Harry had consumed an entire edible before he took his coat off.

"Don't eat more than one, please. I don't want you calling me at four a.m., dreaming up some paranoia about your canvases coming alive to eat you."

Harry laughed while nibbling brownie remnants off his finger. "That was one time."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Know your limit, Lil Spud."

"I'll try my best, Spud."

Matt's smirk faded. "You're a lot like me, you know?"

"Am I?" Matt always saw through Harry's attempt at false innocence.

"Mm, you remind me of the young little shit I used to be."

"Me?" Harry's mock surprise forced a laugh through Matt's  nose.

As always, Matt surprised him, "We got away from the ties that bind, butterfly." He waved a hand toward the window. "Found our hearts in this ridiculous city that never sleeps."

Harry's smile dimmed. "Yeah, well, some ghosts never leave."

Matt sighed. "True. I know that better than anyone." He lit a cigarette. "We share similar stories, hm. I claim heavy shoulders when I see them. So, sit up straight. You're making moves, caterpillar. You. All on your own. Yeah, this round went all to pot." He shrugged. "But you landed on your feet. You always do. They're not here to cushion the fall. This is just a blip. If it didn't happen, it wasn't meant to be. You've survived worse." Matt nodded once and stood up to put on his black and white floor length YSL chevron coat.

Harry cleared his throat. "Where are you off to?"

Matt waved his hand around. "I have a thing."

Harry shook his head and smiled. "You always have a thing."

"Well yes tadpole, that's the life, innit?"

"I suppose." 

Matt stopped in the doorway. "I've got your back. You know that, don't you?"

Harry's smile returned. "Don't make me blush, Matthew."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Fuck those tossers. You're too good for that toilet they call a gallery."

Harry threw his head back and laughed.

"It's annoying how brilliant you are."

Harry sighed. "I know."

Matt took a drag from his cigarette and spoke around the white smoke. "You were born to be an artist. The universe has plans for you yet, my little muse."

"I'm waiting." Harry slumped back into the couch.

Matt laughed softly. "The world keeps spinning, H. You choose if you want to jump in for the ride or stand still in the waiting line." He blew a kiss and said a final 'Ciao' as the door closed.

Harry remained seated for a moment while he drummed his fingers against the arm of the couch. Only a few minutes passed and he stilled his movements.

"Well. Fuck."

He jumped up and ripped his running shorts off to throw on his jeans covered in paint with holes at the knees, as he skidded across the wooden floor to his studio. From Harry's past experience, inspiration breeds on a whim. It could be a lyric he heard that day or the color of someone's eyes. Whenever the lightbulb appeared, he had to snag it before it faded. Also, he was pretty sure the brownie had kicked in.

Six hours and four canvases later, Harry's evolution as an artist had reached a pinnacle.

Harry snaps back to reality and quickly takes out a frozen block of Matt's baked chocolate laced with New York's finest green. He sets it down on the counter to thaw. He's feeling quite nostalgic and in need of some inspiration.

He looks up to the ceiling, a familiar reflex that began shortly after his best friend and mentor passed away. "Cheers, Matty."

"Aww, he's just a sapling. Where'd you find him?" A new Drag Queen cooed.

Harry reached out and touched a ring on their finger. A compass. "Pretty," he blinked.

"Boy wunderkind here, lost his flock." Lola announced.

Some of the Drag Queens gathered around Harry like a den of protective Mums.

Drag Queen number three hovered, "Poor Mary."

Harry looked up at the circle of towering Queens, "I'm Harry. Not Mary." 

A fourth Drag Queen laughed, "Hi Harry, Not Mary. I'm Nicky. Not scary."

Drag Queen number two took off their ring, "Here, baby. Now you'll never be lost. And I'm Pixie." They spoke softly.

Harry smiled at the ring, "Thank you." 

"I'm Violet," they pointed to a couch in the corner, "and those lazy hags sat over there are Trixie, Sasha, Jujube, Adore, Bianca, and Pearl. We're The Lucky Girls. We won't bite," she smirked and squeezed his hand.

"Only if you ask nicely," Adore winked.

Happy Birthday, Lauren!!!!! ❤️🎉🎈 Cheers to you and another trip around the sun, Virgo Queen 👑 All my love to you and yours xoxoxo

Thank you!! We rule the world!! ♐♐