#BTW I APPRECIATE THESE MESSAGES I JUST NEVER KNOW WHAT TO SAY IN FEAR I SPOIL ANYTHING AJHSFAHJS

[the-heart-of-a-monster]

I’ve been gone for so long but I have so much to say and idk how to say it so please be prepared for an absolute mess of an ask lol

First, I just really wanna give appreciation for Super Emeralds (The comic creator) and their dedication to THOAM. I’ve been on Tumblr for just a little more than a year at this point, and I only joined in the first place because of this comic. I got into it way back in… What was it, 2020?? 2021? And I fell in love immediately with the concept! Sonic feeling insecure about his new Werehog form? Chip being an active member of the team and a great friend?? TEAM DARK??? SONADOW DONE RIGHT?????????? Ohohoho! You can bet I was completely on board! I tried my best to comment on every page, because I just love giving positive feedback for things I enjoy, and took note of how Super Emeralds evolved their style as the years went on. I wasn’t there during the beginning, and I really wish I was, but the time I’ve spent following this fun little comic has made me feel so much appreciation not just for Super Emeralds as a person, but for the entire Sonic art community as a whole! Art is a creative endeavor, a passionate career, and sometimes it’s really hard to just. Draw. Comics are especially hard as I’ve discovered. So just… Good job to Super Emeralds for sticking around all these years and for giving us such an incredibly thought out and beloved series. And thank you.

…

ALRIGHT ENOUGH OF THAT MUSHY GUSHY STUFF AND LET’S TALK ABOUT THE BLUE BOY HIMSELF THAT IS NOW NO LONGER JUST BLUE MUAHAHAHAHASHEHEHEKEFHEOFHFFPWEHFLFHD

I’ve been a bit absent from Tumblr for the last few weeks due to sickness and lack of interest so I am undoubtedly missing a page or two from the equation but OH MY GOSH. POOR SONIC. Bro wakes up from like a 2-day long nap and the first thing he sees is his little brother screaming in his face at 3AM. He’s so confused haha! I noticed he isn’t as insecure or he isn’t really freaking out as much as I assumed he would way back during the exposition pages. This is obviously due to the confusion and whiplash after waking up as his “Normal” self again, but I feel like it’s just him putting on another fascade around his friends. To an extent, at least. He isn’t aware of the new pink markings all over his body and he isn’t aware of just how worried all his friends were. All he knows is that they know about his new form and they for some reason aren’t acting weird about it, so he’s likely just playing along to make sure nobody gets overly concerned. It just seems like something he’d do. Or maybe I’m just grasping at the angst straws, idk.

OMEGA IS FIXED BY THE WAY I DO NOT WISH TO GLOSS OVER THAT FACT. THE BOY IS BACK!! THE ROBO BOYO IS BACK!!! I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE ALL THE CRIMES HE’LL BE ABLE TO COMMIT ONCE TAILS GETS THOSE ROCKET LAUNCHERS WORKING AGAIN HEHEHEEE

Also let’s not gloss over how Omega doesn’t care that Sonic mauled him to death. Let’s not gloss over the fact that Omega clearly cares for the others because of his ignorance to Sonic’s rampage.

Yeah if you couldn’t already tell I’m a sucker for this kinda stuff-

Uhhhhh I don’t really have much else to say, honestly. Maybe I will later, but right now I’m on a time crunch so I gotta keep this all pretty concise. Thank you so so much for reading all the way through, I know this was a really really long one. And again, thanks to Super Emeralds for being able to last this long and not losing motivation for the comic. I know I would’ve given up after just 5 pages! (I actually tried to make a comic of sorts and I literally gave up after 5 pages I am not kidding.)

Aight I gotta go now bye bye!! 👋

ur gonna have a field day in 2-3 weeks depending on when u decide to go on rampage haha

[americanrecord]

hey kelsey! i just wanted to say that i still think about the love letters series all the time lol. it’s crazy how much nostalgia can hit me over a fic, but i think that’s just a testament to how well written it was and how much of your heart you poured into it. and obviously, when i started reading it was for axl (unfortunately), but val and jill quickly won me over lol.

i just remember some of the asks you would get would frustrate me so bad because it felt like i was watching some people just reduce the girls to side characters or miss the point entirely. like, you would write something so nuanced and layered and then people would be in your inbox talking about the boys (like no shade ig cause like, yeah, they’re hot and fun, i get it but cmon). but yeah, i can’t imagine how frustrating that was on your end. i feel like that was such a big part of why people couldn’t fully appreciate it for what it was.

anyway, i think it’s really cool that you’re still writing and doing it on your own terms now. law school on top of everything else sounds like hell on earth, so i hope you’re giving yourself credit for even being upright through all of that. and if you do come back (to duffmckagans or wherever), i think a lot of us would be happy just to see you around again — whether you’re posting the fic or literally anything at all. but either way, i’m glad you’re still doing what you love, even if it looks a little different now. you deserve that.

hi! this is so sweet ♡ honestly speaking, the series has been a thought that's been sitting in the back of my mind every day for the last almost five years, but it was a few really kind recent messages and acknowledgments of support (as well as a push to return to writing it from my bad-influence-friends (said lovingly)) that pushed me back toward it on top of my personal motives as detailed in my last ask. it was knowing that i wasn't the only one who cared about it and that there were people out there who missed it or who really wanted to read what did exist of it that had me going: man 😭

which, like, if law school is true and that does come to fruition, who knows how much free time i'll have to even do all of this again. my gut says none. however, it really does make me happy to hear that it can drag up so many happy memories for people, especially when it was always a bit of shit-storm behind the scenes. i think most people started reading for either axl or izzy (or just the gnr boys)—which, btw, i'll never knock anybody for; it's why i started writing—but i do know so deep in my heart that what excited so many people by the end were either the girls/the relationships/the original aspect of it, which i truly am so grateful for. like, seriously. the amount of love the series as a whole got, bad apples aside (ha), is overwhelming and still motivating.

towards the end, long before more band controversy popped up and before i decided to branch off with original things, it really was the asks that started to grate on me. even writing so far in advance, having 30 chapters pre-loaded at any given moment, wasn't enough to deter receiving so many missed-nuance/intentionally cruel "confrontations" over super fake things. like why on earth was i called a cunt over actions of a fictional character! and for what? because people were mad valerie was the main character and always had been? always would be? never-guaranteed-anything-otherwise? it was just so, so frustrating and really leeched the love out of it for me. like, literally every week it went from my excitement (yay! new chapter) to dread (damn it, new chapter) because after seeing people's reactions from the "present" timeline of the fic, it made me fear for what was already written in the "future" of it. it was sign number one that some part of me at least wanted to redirect things to bend to people's will and i did not want the project to turn into anything i didn't want it to be. all else was just a perfect storm to deleting it. i have bounced back, however, and i have learned how to say "fuck you, it's my story," so i do think i could face the interweb with a little more confidence and not get so defensive bc, at the end of the daaaay, this is fanfiction. puuuuuure fanfiction. rpf, arguably the fakest kind. then it just leaves my other difficulties with posting, which i'm trying to iron out.

part of me does think people learned really quickly that i wasn't messing around when that fic got deleted, but like. eh, it was gonna happen anyway. i'm sure non-reader followers to duffmckagans took their first fresh breath of air in like three years.

but, yes! writing originally is still going well. i've written a draft and have it sitting next to my bed awaiting edits, but i've been a little too busy to get my head back into that headspace, whereas i find it's always easy to return to this one and to rewrite old things than it is to generate entirely new ideas. i had to start at the beginning because there were a lot of choices i made along the way i wouldn't make today, to a point where it would've been fruitless to return any other way. (plus, like, the amount of things i forgot?).

and thank you for your support!! i am still moving for right now .... probably firing on all cylinders for way too long now, but i have hope that it will settle soon and that i can find a minute to catch my breath before something else comes knocking. i do think i will be returning to duffmckagans quite soon, so if anybody who jumped ship wants to follow me again over there, regardless of whether or not anything comes of the writing, feel free. i've missed connecting with people very much 🩷

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

hello. I don't have any much of ask this time, mainly wanting to know which spark song you've been hyper in it(if you comfortable to say of course) and rant

I haven't listened to any songs lately since depression has tighten it grips on me causing me get overwhelmed/over-sensitive to voices but there is this verse keep repeating in my head from change by sparks for unknown reasons (consider I'm not good at memorizing lyrics so I only know this part of song)

Change; every dog is gonna have his day // Change; every loser's gonna have his way// Change; I don't care what other people say

i think you had said one or two things about this song to me before but I never opened the discussion cause I feel we will talk ENDLESSLY about it. each sentence in this song carries lot meanings, the full song has it deep heavy meaning while it looks clear as well -very spark type of thing- (like ocean I suppose? at least to me. with clear surface but deepness) and the feelings that arise when I focus on each lines, it goes into my heart before sinks in my soul (I also want to cry with - could be because I'm depressed)

I think is one of those songs I love from sparks that get me go numb on the kitchen floor like the angst on my pants if I let it posses me.

the previous answer still has me! still thinking about and trying to gather my thoughts over it, your overlook on full album by pointing the main concept of each song had me to listen to full album with closer look this time (+ the additional reblog from that account made some good points too (thank you! if you reading this :))

Hello again! ^^ So nice to see you in my ask box once more :)

I'm sorry to hear depression is being really tough on you at the moment, I hope things will be a bit better again soon ⁠♡ Change is a good song to hold your hand through dark days, the part of the lyrics you've highlighted in your message say it all. I really like what you said about the song and so I'll just give you a knowing smile because I think we understand each other perfectly well :)

I'm glad you enjoyed the previous answer and that you're still thinking about it, I love them so much for having made an album like that in these times :) (Hey @parts-of-me-unravelling thanks again for your addition about crying in one's latte ☺️)

I'm always comfortable talking about any song that I've been fixated on but I've honestly not listened to a lot of music recently (I've also been down in the dumps a bit and crave silence a lot). Sparks is always there though in other ways even when I'm not listening to music: I recently got a poster that I feared I'd missed out on. It made me so happy! It's good memories and a truly great photo. I also bring Sparks up in random conversations a lot, yesterday a friend was talking to me about pandemic isolation times and how people would only dress up the upper half of their bodies for zoom calls. ...so I was thinking of when Sparks made a video in which Russell stood up to show off his polka dot shorts, to which Ron said he wasn't going to stand up because he wasn't wearing shorts and it was supposed to be a pg rated video 😂 (I appreciate these guys so much.) It's in one of their 2020 videos on Instagram, all of which are very worth watching btw. (During self-isolation Russell treated us to singing lessons and workout sessions, Ron showed off his hand sanitizer collection and "The Ronald D. Mael Museum of stones and shells" (if I remember the name correctly), we got A Day In The Life Of Russell, Russell showing off his fridge magnet collection, and weekly lyric reads from Ron, as well as a couple of live recordings of songs from home. Honestly they were sweet as hell for doing all of that, I treasure all of these videos immensely. ... They might be good to watch actually if you need a mood boost :))

But here's something I've been hoping to tell you as there's something exciting coming up for the Sparks fandom: Sparkstember. It's a full month of celebrating Sparks and all their different albums and projects, and it takes place in September. The prompts list hasn't been posted yet but I'm going to assume it's not too dissimilar from last year. People can engage with the prompt/album of the day in any way they like so it's not only about art, though a lot of people make art for every single day of the month, and it's just really fun :) (Also a bit insanity inducing haha, I've now made art for every single day of it for the last 2 years while also trying to keep up with everything my friends have made. I very much intend to do it again this year.) People partake on any social media platform they like, though I personally especially enjoy it on Instagram. Sparks see and share a lot of the stuff that we put out there, so it's a really nice way of letting them know what they mean to us :) There's always too much about them that I can't put into words, also there's just too much to say, so having a whole month and going album by album is really good for that. (I mean, you've seen how I can write a whole essay about just one song. And they've got so many songs, albums, tours, photos, interviews, music videos, etc etc.) So I've been preparing for that these last weeks, and I'll keep the details about it to myself because my answer is getting so long already 😅 (Plus, I'll be going on about every album for the whole of next month anyway.) What I will share though is this tumblr post I made about these lyrics from the song Let's Make Love. You may have already seen that post float by, but it says everything about my motivation for Sparkstember and how much I love Sparks. (Gratuitous tag rant included on the post 🙃)

...sorry to go all "I love Sparks" on you today, without really talking about a song (I truly could write a whole book about them and their work though, plus there isn't really a separation between them as people and their art, it all exists as one massive universe but it's also all one and the same thing). Though the Sparks fan experience is basically Sparks fans constantly telling each other how much they love Sparks anyway so, well, there you go. The Sparks fan experience 👍🏻

The world could use more joy at the moment, or at least I know I could use it and could use things to make me want to keep going, so have this fun homemade music video from 2020 as my parting gift. Just because both the song and the video never fail to make me smile :)

[theninthdoor]

Hi! im pretty sure this is an extended reading rather than a quick question?

In blackpink what do the three other members think of the individual member?

(e.g. what jisoo/lisa/rosie thinks of jennie… what lisa/rosie/jennie thinks of jisoo) and so forth… if you get what i mean lol. thanks for this btw!

definitely an extended reading lol, but I really enjoyed it! i hope this is what you're looking fore. and, of course, thank you for requesting 🥰 !! btw - I'm NOT accepting this request for other groups at the moment! this is an old ask. thank u for understanding. I also feel like it's important to say that you should take this with a grain of salt! We all have our positive & negative sides, so we shouldn't expect anything less from idols. Just because the messages focus more on one aspect of things, doesn't mean that that's the ONLY thing X sees in Y! Put everything into perspective and please be realistic with who they are and where they are in life.

Jisoo

↦ Jennie || the tower rx, eight of swords rx: Jisoo thinks she could've never been able to handle as much as Jennie does (hate, rumours, crazy schedules, you name it…). It's as if when she thinks Jennie is about to hit the ground, she always finds a way to rise back up and keep going. However, there's also a sense that Jennie has become a little like a robot, emotionless, passionless, jaded… - and, regarding that, Jisoo thinks she kinda got trapped in a prison of her own making. That level of public recognition/interest sometimes just isn't worth it, you know? Jisoo wouldn't want it - that's what I'm trying to say.

↦ Rosé || five of wands, the devil rx: First of all, Rosé is truly a good-natured person; she doesn't play dirty, which Jisoo appreciates. She will fight for what she wants, tho! Competition really doesn't scare her because she has the will and the passion to outdo them. On the more negative side, Jisoo thinks Rosé is often the type to bite off more than she can chew, and then she just has to stretch herself too thin (for her own detriment) because she doesn't want to let anyone down.

↦ Lisa || six of wands rx, five of swords: This one surprised me, to be honest… She thinks Lisa has become the kind of artist/celebrity to whom nothing is ever enough. Perhaps it's an issue with her self-confident or fear of losing what she has earned so far, and it's not necessarily the case of fame getting to her head. I just see her constantly trying to outdo herself and others; scolding others when they make too many mistakes or aren't performing with as much energy as she is; getting easily upset when things don't work out as she had wanted; etc. Lisa is just too hard on herself and, likely due to stress, she becames a little critical and demanding towards other people as well.

Jennie

↦ Jisoo || the hierophant rx, four of swords: She thinks Jisoo is the type of person who will never, ever break her personal moral code or break away from who she is and where she came from. She's not a sell-out; doesn't care about fame, titles or celebrity lifestyles - she's just Jisoo, and no one can change that. She will challenge authority and other people's expectations without thinking twice, because she has decided to put her peace and happiness first. I don't think Jennie understands how she's able to do that, and I also don't think she wants to be that kind of person. Either way, she absolutely doesn't have a problem with it because Jisoo doesn't bother anyone, she just does her own thing + allows others the same kind of freedom.

↦ Rosé || three of pentacles, five of cups: On one hand, she sees Rosé as someone who's truly dedicated to her job, to music, to creative expression. She loves what she does, so it inspires others who work with her (such as Jennie). On the other hand, work often comes first, and everything else is put on the backburner for her, even friendships. Given that, I think their friendship has suffered quite a lot in the last few years/months, and Jennie misses how thing used to be. Besides that, she also feels sorry for Rosé because, no matter how hard she works, she's rarely able to put out what she wants and how she wants it. In a way, Jennie thinks Rosé would've done really well as a solo OR would do really well as a solo, even if it mean ot4 won't be any longer. (not saying R is leaving!! read again)

↦ Lisa || the emperor rx, six of swords rx: This totally ties in with Jisoo's thoughts… Lisa has become a little too rigid and demanding. It's not that she thinks she's above others - she just doesn't want others to make her look bad or to throw away all of her hard work, so she now tends to act a little bit controlling and critical. Also, for some reason, Jennie thinks Lisa is stuck in the past. Perhaps she hasn't accepted that things have changed, including their work styles or priorities, and even the group's style of performance and chemistry; and she's really not willing to move on and adapt.

Rosé

↦ Jisoo || the chariot, king of cups: Big sister energy! She sees Jisoo as extremely reliable, strong, with great self-control and determination. Specially when it comes to emotions, she is always cool, calm and collected; nothing knocks her out of balance. Rosé definitely admires her strength and discipline, but also her ability to empathize and care for those around her. Although she is willful and assertive, she's still extremely kind and gentle. For all of those reasons, Rosé sees Jisoo as someone she can trust 100%; someone who'll protect her and care for her, if need be; plus, someone who is an inspiration, too (particularly when it comes to her ability to juggle her stronger & softer sides).

↦ Jennie || the tower rx, five of swords: It's really interesting that we're getting the same kind of messages from different members! Rosé also thinks that 1) Jennie is capable of handling a lot more than she could've ever handled herself, and 2) Jennie has, in a way, brought many of these issues upon herself. Perhaps she was naive and acted impulsively, or, at the time, she just never saw what could possibility go wrong… Right now, though, it might be very hard to talk to her and to get her to see reason, likely because she doesn't want to admit her mistakes. Or, alternatively, Rosé just doesn't like the kind of lifestyle she's living or the kind of people Jennie has surrounded herself with - which, understandably so, must've changed her personality a bit + keep on influencing her.

↦ Lisa || seven of cups, queen of swords: Out of all, I think Rosé is the member who understands Lisa's point of view the best! She recognizes her immense potential, versatility and intelligence, and that she simply cannot afford to let all of her hard work go to waste. So, although she also acknowledges that cold, rigid side that the others are focusing on, Rosé understands her a little bit more and can see past that. Lisa has big dreams and so does she, so they can, for sure, bond over that and support each other when things get more stressful or difficult. Besides that, there's definitely a feeling here that these two are likely the most interested in the performance side of the job (at least right now), and they really rely on each other when it comes to advice and motivation.

Lisa

↦ Jisoo || two of wands, nine of pentacles rx: First of all, she thinks (and loves) that Jisoo is perfectly capable of adapting to whatever comes her way. She can play for any team, as long as she is allowed to be her real self. Because of that, too, she's kind of the mediator of the group; the one who's able to adjust her work style and personality to everyone else's; the member who's always helping them understand each other's points of view. On the other hand, though, Lisa also recognizes that Jisoo is the least interested in the celebrity lifestyle, which she thinks it's a shame because J has so much potential. If only she were to put in a little more effort and were to be more disciplined, she would reach even higher! (Again, there is Lisa with the discipline thing lol… she's like a mom wanting the best for her kids)

↦ Jennie || ace of pentacles, the empress: She thinks Jennie is an example to follow, specially when it comes to business decisions. J is able to make everything happen for herself; everything she touches turns to gold. Out of all, she's the one Lisa sees the most of herself in, even though Jennie's potential is not yet fully realized - meaning that she has it all, yet doesn't have the time or discipline to completely dedicate herself to everything and make the best out of it, which is unfortunate. On top of that, Lisa also sees Jennie as a caring, peaceful and trustworthy person; someone who's always available to help (personally and professionally). Overall, it's a really positive and inspiring energy!

↦ Rosé || ten of pentacles, page of cups: Lisa sees Rosé as a sister, almost. Like with all sibling relationships, they have their ups and downs, but, in the end, they'll always have each other's backs. These two might share many of the same values and beliefs; the family environment of both could be similar OR they just get along really well with each other's families. I also see Lisa caring the most about Rosé's opinions, for the better and for the worse… she's just very sensitive to them, I believe. For that reason, it's easy for them to misunderstand, overreact and argue here and there - but it's because they care about each other! If I were to guess, I'd say Lisa sees this friendship as the one that has the most potential to last far into the future, to be honest. It's great!

(Disclaimer: all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

[helloalycia]

hi! just wanted to pop in quickly to tell you that i've finally gotten around to reading both of your alicia clark books! i remember starting the first one a long time ago but never managing to finish it - i reckon it's because i've never actually watched fear the walking dead because, well, i ✨fear✨ the walking dead (sorry for the pun lol but no seriously, i'm too scared to watch such shows, even though alycia's in it 😭) but i always manage to come back to ur account and ur fics (i basically grew up with them) and i'd seen that you'd posted new content about alicia clark, so i just had to give your books another try and i absolutely loved it. i loved alicia & kamille, i loved mía and al and oliver and so many other characters and it really broke my heart when joanie and madison and adam died.

kamille is an amazing character; she is patient and calculated, fearless but also scared. she is hope and warmth and the future alicia always deserved.

i'm not religious by any means, but you still managed to make me understand and respect the hope people gain from having faith in something/someone but also the boundaries and doubts that come along with it (even though you didn't mean for it to take over the story). believing in something also often comes with rules, so it was very interesting for me to read about kamille's inner conflict about breaking them: did they really matter in a world where law and order was gone and safety and trust was always only temporary? and even if the world didn't turn to shit, kamille is a muslim lesbian and a woman of color - as i've said, i'm not religious, but i'm also a queer woman of color and i did grow up in a househould with certain beliefs, so if you don't mind and feel comfortable sharing it, i'd love to hear more about your opinion/thoughts on this matter. only if that's okay with you though, you can skip this part, if you don't want to answer that question of course! i don't wanna pressure you into anything!

but yeah, i really did love kamille (even though she was so fucking stupid and oblivious sometimes 😭). and as i've already said: i've never watched ftwd before but kamille and alicia just somehow made sense to me. i haven't felt this single in a loong time hahahaha 🥲

i believe the ftwd fandom is not very huge and i know that some of your other fics for other fandoms might get more attention, but i really do appreciate it every single time u post a fic about alicia (i mean i appreciate every fic you post but i'm kinda loving alicia clark very much right now).

just wanted to let you know that bc she seems to be one of your favorite characters and you must like writing fics about her. so yeah, if you ever feel like those fics are not being recognized properly; i recognize them. and i very much appreciate them. 🫶🏻

sorry this message is wayyy longer than i intended it to be haha

firstly can i just say there’s so much to unpack with this but first and foremost, this brought tears to my eyes because it’s such a genuinely sweet and thoughtful message, and it means a lot when someone really delves into what i’ve written and appreciates it as more than fanfiction, so thank you 😭

okay so i love your fear the walking dead pun, really made me laugh 😂 i really appreciate you giving my fics another go as well, especially as someone who doesn’t usually go for scary stuff like that – it means a lot! ♥️

you’re right about the ftwd fandom being tiny haha, it’s a struggle writing stuff when not many engage with it, but thank you so much for letting me know you enjoy my stuff! i think i’ve been writing a lot for Alicia lately because i genuinely just miss her character and there’s a lot to work with in that universe and with her, plus i’m still having withdrawal from the kamille x alicia fic as it was so fun to write and i miss them 😂 you’re right btw - kamille was a dumbass haha but her and alicia felt so real to me and i genuinely forget she’s not in the actual show 😂

again, very grateful you recognise that though – it’s always so touching to know there’s someone out there delving into what i’ve written! as you said about the subtle commentary within the fic about religion and beliefs combatting a world where it isn’t ’needed’ anymore, that was something that i’m glad you picked up on! i feel like i try to include subtleties in my writing on similar more serious themes, rather than just a fic or imagine, so it means a lot someone noticed them :)

in terms of my opinion on the whole queer women of colour and belief system, i’m happy to share! honestly writing the kamille x alicia fics were a little outlet for me as i’m in a similar boat, a pakistani lesbian, and i genuinely face this issue every day, so obviously i can only share my opinion.

as a person of colour yourself, you must understand how it is being viewed in the lgbtq+ community as someone who isn’t white, but i feel like it’s even harder when you’re a follower of a religion, so in my case Islam. But i won’t go into how it is being viewed like this externally because you can see that anywhere. For me, it’s the internal conflict.

i think knowing that i like women and can never feel otherwise makes it hard because it’s always a decision between do i force myself to think and feel differently because of my family? or do i lead my life how i want to? but then that in itself is hard because even though i’ve told myself i’m a lesbian and accepted that, have i really? i don’t share it to anyone other than my friend and sisters. I don’t know how to. And then my religion and beliefs come into play - i genuinely believe God/Allah wouldn’t frown on me for feeling this way because He created me, but other Muslims would see it as a sin and me straying away from religion. But is it really straying if it’s not my choice? Surely my beliefs should be between me and God, not everyone else?

No matter what, believing in something bigger than me and the fundamentals of my religion make me feel calm and centred. I don’t care how many times people say being gay and Muslim is wrong, because it’s not to me. I can be both. And it doesn’t change any of what i believe. Saying that though, my parents put religion first even though they’re not very religious. Family is second to them whereas it’s first for me. Their beliefs shape them and i can’t exist within that if it doesn’t follow their ideals.

It genuinely comes down to perspective, and as much as i tell myself i don’t care what others think, i do. Mostly my parents. If they knew, they’d despise me. And it’s that thought of do i lie forever to keep them in my life? or live my truth? the answer is, i don’t know. My biggest fear is being alone, funnily enough like Kamille, so i don’t know if i’d rather live an unhappy life surrounded by people or a happy life alone.

But yeah - that’s just the base points of my thoughts on the topic, as well as my experience. If you have any more questions or want me to clarify anything, do let me know! the truth is, most of the stuff Kamille fears or worries is a mirror of my life lol. Only difference is, her circumstances don’t make her choose because it’s not a choice, it just is.

Hope that helps and once again, thank you for your kind words! 🥰♥️

[marin3llyells]

Unto the first days of a new year; 2024.

Spent a whole day with the family at Indang, Cavite wherein the place was not crowded as if we got it for ourselves. I honestly loved the idea that we only planned to go out but without specific plans on what activities to do or even having a specific place to go to. I even got to realized that I was no good at navigating google maps as we have missed turns since I was not able to direct which turns to take, during that time I was always late to say it out loud and the google map needs to re-route multiple times.

Still we ended up to a place wherein it actually fits our preference of being able to avoid heavy traffic and crowded place. It was so peaceful.

Peaceful— I meant, good food, time well spent away from all our usual routine and errands such as school works for my siblings and work for my parents and I. We were also able to enjoy our own "thing" such as painting and journaling for myself. Took lovely photos as well! And best part was, got to play monoply as initiated by our bunso, Bing. 🤍 (she won btw!)

Our January first was really a good recharge as I was also able to return to work with a fresh start. I was able to perform sessions with my students as if di ko ramdam yung pagod. My heart was definitely happy. This continued for few more days after.

One thing I also appreciate was receiving a gift from my brother. We've been talking about dressing up, improving outfit styles lately, and yep, I was taught to going back to basics. I've been receiving jeans from him which definitely was a step forward for me in embracing other styles than my usual fitted jeans and a shirt.

Sagot niya one basic top from a brand I would've never buy from as a kuripot sa sarili, or probably it was still something I'm working on for myself. This time tho, I bought 2 more shirts that time alone. Thanks to my brother for encouraging. I love being reminded unconsiously to do better on treating myself other than buying myself coffee most of the time. It actually motivated me in gaining more self confidence, lalo nung nakikita ko sarili ko sa isang malaking mirror during fitting. Sakto pang may new body mirror ako since mama and dad tried to save a mirror from a vintage cabinet na inaanay, sakin na lang raw. Siempre yes na yes agad! Placed it in my room and took photos as I pair the shirts I bought with another short I got on a thrift shop with my brother few months back. Reading a message (as feedback lol) "bagay nga" was a big yey moment for me, lalo di ako usually nagsusuot ng ganung klaseng outfit dati.

Anyways...

I'm really looking forward that this year will motivate me to do more, be encouraged to better on both small and big things. Lalo na hearing mama saying, "24 ka na". It was definitely a reminder that I have to face adult life. (Scary, tbh!!!)

By the next few days; even months, I know I'm still preparing for more attempts on improvements and embracing challenges. Yes, I'm still scared, but as one of my aunties say, "It has to be done".

Good thing I found new bunch of people that could potentially be part of venturing a new journey. Sana nga nakaka-motivate rin ako para sa ibang taong nakakasalamuha ko.

For now, I'll yell for motivating myself and shoo away my negative thoughts.

Ewan ko, siguro tama rin namang mapagod sa pagiging takot na mag-stay sa comfort zone at failures na nangyari. Surely, it's happening to simply see how far we'll get.

I'm happy to share that fear is what could remind as that there are some things we still value, which potentially will help us to do better. Kaya takot, kasi may halaga at gusto kasi talaga natin mga bagay na yun.

I'll definitely get back to this, hopefully, in a way that I'm already done with just dwelling with the past and already celebrating what "attempts" of doing better has good results already. Yung masasabing may bunga na lahat, klaro na kung bakit nangyayari mga di inaasahan.

Cheers to our attempts for the past year of surviving. Let's kickstart with a fresh one—mindset ba!

[psychelis-new]

Hello lis,

From the anon that suggested your latest pac, thank you! The pile I chose really sounds like something they would tell, the word choices and all...

Although I didn't get the clarity that I was so much seeking to get. I guess they just don't want to make it clever. And yes, I texted them too. A lot of things and they just replied with sorry. I know it has nothing to do with the pac but i see you always type on your pacs that it is best to talk to a person than just rely on the pac itself, which is ofc the logical thing to do.

Thank you for your time and energy, I always appreciate it!

Wishing you a great summer! Well, the rest of it :D

Thank you for your feedback, glad you enjoyed the pac and it seemed to resonate. A reminder: pacs are just general readings. Things cannot be specific for you/your situation in there, so even if there was a more specific message, it very likely got eaten away by the group's energy.

Now, my personal opinion when it comes to closures or similar things is to try and keep in mind that the other has their own reasons and emotions too and respect them. Ofc we sometimes would want answers, would like for more, but we cannot oblige them to give us. We have to respect their choice and feelings too (even if ours got hurt by them). What would we do if we were in their place and their in ours? Trying to push us to do/talk about things we don't wanna do/talk about for any reason (even fearing hurting us more or anything else)? We should try to evaluate each situation and decide accordingly, as in balancing a bit more our needs with theirs: in relationships there are always 2 people that have the same importance/worth. And remember: we can give ourselves closure when we need. It's possible. Even if they'd told us reasons for their behaviour, it wouldn't always help us in closing that door (there's another pac on insta about this btw): the decision and reasons to make it, more often than not, originate from within us. (And clarity, will very likely hit you at the right time anyway, especially when you need to hear it/are ready to hear it).

Last thing: when I write that you (we all) don't have to rely on readings is cause readings can't be 100% accurate (especially pacs = general readings). Readings depend on so many factors, and readers aren't perfect either. The only way to have the real truth for your specific situation, is to actually ask for it irl. That's a general suggestion I give to everyone, cause oftentimes I feel many people just rely on what a pac says and don't take action in their life in any way. But readings can never dictate your life, you're the only one in charge of it and you have to make decisions with your guts first. Readings can give you a general guidance, but it's up to you to make the final choice.

All the best and enjoy your summer too :) I hope to not evaporate tbh lol

[iamlittlelostsoul]

Are asks open? If so, can you write a fluffy epilogue of twst boys x reader x yan ver of them set in 6 months from now to give the reader some time to adjust

OMG HELLOO!!

THANK YOUU this is my first time getting requests and I really appreciate it!!

I hope this reaches your expectations although I don't think that I've made it that fluffy but I hope all is good!:D

Just so everyone knows my asks are always open and I'll do my best in answering it all!☺

oh and if you wanna check it out here's my masterlist! ><

Enjoy!

Mending Hearts

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 of which is which...

Twst boys x reader x yan!twst boys

It's been 6 months...6 months since the incident. And they barely made much progress...

6 months since the love of their life came back but is in a terrible state and despised and feared them so so much.

3 months since they found a spell to see Mc's memories to find the truth and is horribly haunted by it.

They were so lost...

They wanted to help...but how?

How can they help someone that used to love them so much but now despised them so much that they would rather drop dead than have them close...

If only they could find a way to turn back time to avoid such things happening maybe their life would remain as it was? or become official lovers and all...?

...

But this won't stop them from trying...

It is a challenge but if it is to get them to trust and befriend them once again or at least...have them not look at them with eyes filled with fear, uncertainty, and so much hate.

it has only been 6 months so it's ok! Even if it would take them years and so to help them. It's ok even if...it means having to return them back to their own world...

So it is not the time for them to dilly dally and lose hope. It's time to pay them back for everything they've given to every single one of them.

In those 6 months, they started with itty-bitty steps...by allowing them to adjust at their own pace and also 'finally' getting a therapist and a counselor for the school.

They've also sought advices and to do's and not to do from people with a wide knowledge of such cases.

They did their best to not to trigger traumatic flashbacks by avoiding sending too many presents, less contact, and trying to be as calm and patient as they could whenever they are nearby to not overwhelm and pressure them.

Instead of forcefully conversing with them in person instead they try by giving encouraging notes/messages or simply encouraging them to let out everything they feel and etc. Or sending them flowers and little trinkets.

"Hello Mc! This is Riddle...I can't really say to you to stop worrying or everything is alright so...instead, I wish you to get better soon! If you are still not comfortable with our presence it's ok take your time! I know you might be thinking I'm doing this to control you and all but all of us are being sincere in proving we are better than our alters.

you should open the little box by your bed. It's ok the queen of hearts never really gave a rule about doing such things...so I hope it could comfort you in some way. P.s it's a hedgehog btw...just so you know." -Riddle Roseheart

" Ace and Deuce hereee. Get better soon!! We don't really know what to tell you but we hope you start healing well. We really missed you...we made you something...it's the same tart we made on our first birthday party...so we would be really happy if you eat but it's fine if not just...just try to not throw it out the window or... just get well soon." -ADeuce

"Hiii! This is Cheka uncle Leona's nepew!! Remeber me? I heard from uncle Leona that you wernt feeling good :( I'm sorwy jus t so u know uncle and I relly like you mama papa tool! Get well sooon! Uncle tld me I canot relly sea yu know witch made me sad but its okay! I maid you this drawing of you and me plus uncle and mama and papa eating cake in the guarden! I hope this comes tru! Get well soon big sister/brother!!!" -Love Cheka!💗

"Human it is I Sebek! Eat your meals, get some rest, stop hurting yourself and love yourself...You deserve to do so, I'm not asking on behalf of my young master, everyone and for myself but for you. I will not force you to do anything you dislike but at least take great care of one's self. Hate us if you wish just care for you so take this Tamagotchi the diasomania dorm bought for you ." -Sebek

They couldn't blame them to start crying and panicking when they were nearby or when receiving their gifts and letters...so it's ok. But of course, they also seek professional help to also avoid another overblot.

Because of it all slowly they start having improvements like them not having panic attacks when passing by and on some occasions, they would even text back.

It was very little but for them it is everything.

It motivates them to do more but notes not to overdo it, to go forward because little by little they are slowly but surely putting down their walls.

They even had the chance to sometimes be able to chat with them in person but behind doors/walls.

Grim could even visit them occasionally in person!

And some of the trinkets and presents they gave them weren't always thrown or burnt.

it was a great improvement which made them so so glad!

although they still try to commit suicide and inflicts self harm it was less worst than before.

So they continue to do as they did and would only do things when they feel comfortable in doing so.

It has already been 2 years already and...

"Hey Mc, Let's sit here!" Ace shouted as he sat at an empty table.

"Mmh...kay" they answered.

"Myehehehe! Look Mc! I passed the test!" Grim proudly said.

"That's nice!" They said with a soft smile as they petted the cat monster's head.

Although their reply tends to be rather dry and empty at times it is fine. They are happy to study, hangout, and spend time alongside them.

The graduates would also often visit them when they have time they too notices the differences but are satisfied to how it is now.

"Ace! Deuce!"

"Shit...heyya Riddle-senpai! Long time no see!" Ace said as he nervously rubs the back of his head.

"Oh you to are wanna be the end of me!!! Just because I'm not always in school means the two of you could just go and break the queen's rules!!!! Hah I shouldn't have entrusted the dorm to the both of you..." Riddle said as he massages the bridge of his nose.

"Ahahhaah....sorry dorm leader." Deuce said sincerely apologetic for the trouble he's been causing.

"JNJAKWJDJDJJDJDJSJDNJDDHSJS-"

"Hello-I Riddle calm down...I've brought some newly baked tarts everyone." Trey said upon arrival.

"Epel Flemier!"

"Oh no....Good afternoon Vil-senpai!" Epel said with a 'sweet' smile. "why is he here. He already graduated! JAJSJSJDJ I thought I finally escaped him." He whispered.

"I've heard that! Have you been doing your skin care? Why is your skin so dry and your hair! AJJDDJJDDJC"

"hello Mc and everyone! Seems like everyone's having fun lemme join too!!"

"Kalim-hah there's no stopping him."

"Good day all."

"WAKA-SAMA! THANK YOUAND IT'S AN HONOR FOR SUCH AS YOU TO VISITING US."

Soon all of them are finally present in the cafeteria causing a lot of the 2nd to 1st year's to admire them although with such childish displays from each and everyone of them Mc can't help but chuckle and feel more at ease.

Hearing Mc laugh at their antics made their hearts swell with pride and joy. They've did well. Although they wouldn't be like the person they were before it makes them so happy to see them feel more comfortable than before since the incident.

Although it was quite a shame they couldn't take their friendship to another level yet...it was still fine. They can't really put all their efforts to waste when they've already reached this far! They just need to be more patient and understanding.

Besides if it weren't for their new found 2nd and 1st year's friends they couldn't have done better.

"Heyya Mc, Acey, and Juice-senpai's!” Kroner a nice and goofy 1st year although he is quite dumb but he makes great food and and...talks to squirrels...

"It's Deuce not Juice, Kroner!!!"

"Oh, Sorry Bruce-senpai"

"DEUCE! DE U C E"

"Doesn't he remind me so much of you deuce" ace said teasingly.

"Shut it Ace!"

"Ohhh~! There you are Kroner! Hello senpai's" Yza a very power hungry 2nd year (just like Azul lol) that stick to them like an annoying leech! He has the face of a dinosaur and totally shameless!

"Hey there Yza!” Kroner cheerfully said after all he is his henchman.

"Hey there Kroner!" Yza said with the most fakes and plastic smile.

'Plastic annoying dino' is what most of them thought.

'Today isn't so bad. Everyone is having tons of fun and the air felt light and comfy.' Mc thought as they watched them with a very fond smile.

It has been really hard for them to trust, love, and smile once again. Without their friends, they would have long been 6 feet under. It was a really traumatic experience and they truly wish these kinds of moments stays forever and that they would NEVER meet their alters once again.

Their heart may have shattered and was beyond repair, but their friends still gave their all in sharing theirs slowly while slowly but surely building up their broken heart, although the cracks remain they built a foundation to make be like how it used to be yet warmer and filled.

'I really am lucky to have such people by my side. Soon I will be finally spending these moments with less worry and pain.' They thought as they join in the fun.

Fin<3

[devildomimagines]

Request: How the Demon Brothers React to a Very Competent Caretaker MC

The prompt: MC has to take care of lots of siblings back in the human world. Not, like, 6 or 7 siblings, but TWENTY-FOUR!! MC can multitask like no one’s business and can easily take care of any problem that might arise with their siblings. MC is great at taking care of others and enjoys it. The hang-up is that when they come to Devildom, they suddenly find themselves with a lot of free time and aren’t really sure how to fill in those gaps since they were always dedicating themselves to others.

Anon! Your message was so sweet but I was having technical difficulties writing the post as an answer so I decided to just make a separate text post. Btw, your great-grandmother sounds like a total badass, what an inspiration! I hope you don’t mind my work around for the technical issues and I hope this lives up to what you were looking for!

Edit: I wrote this for the formerly Undateables as well, check it out here.

Belphegor

As the youngest he doesn’t completely understand but he does love his family (even if he doesn’t always show it).

He is kind of amazed with how competent MC is and how easily adaptable to the needs of him and his brothers.

He’s kind of selfish so oftentimes he abuses your nurturing nature.

After the events in the attic, Belphie does worry you’ll hold it against him, even subconsciously. You cut the tension one night by saying, "You can't kill me, I've survived my little sibling trying to play violin with a chainsaw!" The mental image makes him laugh.

Belphie would be the best brother to consult with if you want to learn to be a little selfish yourself. It doesn’t have to be a complete personality overhaul but there is value in knowing what you want and making those wants known to others.

While taking care of so many siblings, you never had the opportunity to take naps and he is offended! But secretly loves that he gets to show you the joys of a nap.

Beelzebub

Beel loves taking care of others, just a very loving boy. The two of you get along like peas in a pod. 

It’s very easy to fall into old habits around him because he has a personality that makes you want to care for him.

Since he’s so strong, he does fear hurting you by accident. You let him know, “I don't fear pain, I do my school homework upside-down while on a ladder changing the lamp." While it doesn’t totally extinguish his fears, the thought of that total body workout intrigues him enough to distract him.

If you want to fill some time, he would love to have you join him at the gym or come see his games.

Physical fitness and nutrition are fundamental to taking care of yourself and Beel would be the demon to go to to learn more if you’re interested. 

Also, I’m sure you would agree but cooking is a form of love so if you enjoy spending your free time baking and cooking, Beel will follow you around (for the treats lol). He’s said it before, if you know how to cook then he wants you to stay by his side.

Asmodeus

“Treat yo self” is his guiding principle. He is your demon to teach self-care.

If you’re looking for something to do, part of your time can be filled with his routines for skin care, hair care and mental health checks.

Casually you mentioned one day, “"Me, go to sleep? I'm the oldest sibling, I don't sleep, I worry with my eyes closed!"

“MC! You need to get your beauty rest!” He countered. I can imagine that he basically drags you to Belphie to figure out how to sleep better.

Although he has a lot of knowledge to offer, you are quick to pick it up and help him in braiding his hair out of his face or gently applying a face mask.

The fun part of learning from Asmo is that there’s always some new beauty product to try and he loves having a buddy to try it with. 

Satan

He’s amazed with everything you can do. He asks you to teach him how to do things he watches you do flawlessly.

He’s definitely curious to hear about what it’s like living with so many siblings, 6 seems like too many sometimes so 4 times that is completely unknown to him.

Satan was helping with some homework and suggested tackling an easier assignment first, you challenged him with, "Don't underestimate me, I managed to make a toddler spell pneumoultramicroscopicssilicovulcanoconiosis!"

He laughs as he confirms he wasn’t underestimating you, just trying to offer some guidance for efficiency.

You need something to pass time? Satan has enough books in his room to literally last your lifetime.

He can help you find any kind of book, simply let him know what you would be interested in and he probably has a suggestion.

Leviathan

He’s drawn to you and at first he doesn’t know why. Later he realizes it’s because you’re so good at listening where his brothers usually just ignore him.

Games and anime are a great time filler if you’re interested, he’s got all the best recommendations.

It might be tough to get into first if you’re not used to binge watching a series or gaming for hours on end.

When he apologizes for possibly annoying you with his rants you assure, "You can't annoy me, I've endured eight rebellious teenagers!"

I could imagine that you’d resonate with slice of life animes as an introduction to the genre and possibly adventure games with a good story would catch your attention.

Even if you’re not totally invested, he enjoys your presence since you’re not dismissing his interest.

Mammon

Listen, he’s a good older brother! Some of his personal decisions are questionable but he’s dependable when needed.

Definitely king of random interests so your well-rounded abilities are actually well suited to keeping up with whatever past time has piqued his interest this week.

Mammon would probably be confused when you see something during one of his shopping trips that you clearly want but refuse to buy. Eventually he builds it up enough (like the demon on your shoulder whispering in your ear lol) that you do end up getting it.

What you had first dismissed as Mammon being materialistic, you slowly come to realize because of him that you can surround yourself with things that bring you joy and so your days are filled with happiness.

He can get reckless so he appreciates your protection from Lucifer’s punishments and hides behind you like some of your siblings did at home.

He protects you too though! He stands up for you and points out things that are unfair to make you aware. 

Lucifer

Oldest sibling comradery from the get-go.

You’re both very responsible individuals and when you join forces, it’s like nothing is impossible.

He’s the one you go to the first couple weeks when you find yourself with free time. He’s sure to have something to be done to help fill the newfound free time.

Over time he comes to rely on you but he’s worried he’s overworking you with the tougher assignments. You made sure to remind him, "I have no difficulty with this task, I'm the oldest of twenty-four siblings!"

Lucifer recognizes your competence and he excels at boosting confidence and pride so don’t think you are not immune to that.

The more time you spend with him, the more you develop a stronger sense of self-worth and self-determination. He practically gushes pride at the sight of you defending yourself and claiming the value of your time near the end of the exchange program.

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood - Part 3

What happened to the cycling classes after work and the occasional drinks with coworkers? Now it was flying to Italy to vacation for the December holidays with Harry and his family and friends.

Ok part 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the final part of ilitn i believe! let me know what you think! plssss! Not proofread, but your support means the most and it means the world to see your thoughts, literally anything about it, and this little harry I always have to remember that’s the simp your honor ^ right there! anyway happy reading!

Read Part 1 | 2

Word Count: 10.9k | Warnings: swearing, smut! (finally) - oral (m+f receiving, dirty talk, choking? i can’t remember ngl there might not be, sloppy sex, outdoors by the pooldeck just btw, christmas, idk but hopefully nothing I missed, feelings! happy ending (possibly rushed 

-

“You’re really flying to Italy and then traipsing around the Italian countryside for three weeks with Harry and his family? I cannot believe you’re leaving me behind.”

“You’re gonna kill me for saying this, but he had said I could invite a friend or two if I wanted. But I thought it’d be weird with his family so you literally can’t be mad at me!”

“Fine. I’ll move past it, but how did you move past the whole panic attack? Like you barely spoke to him for a month and then he’s on your doorstep and you’re kissing and agreeing to a Roman Holiday?”

“It’s Harry,” she sighs, laying down on her couch. “How could I not, I got scared because he was gone, but once he was back, nothing else mattered.”

“I guess,” Cate mumbles.

“Oof, sorry Cate I have another call, I’ve got to go…”

By the time she tries to pick up the other line has gone to a message and she’s left to listen to her boss over a voicemail:

“Hey Y/N, I know your holidays have just begun, but I wanted to inform you that you’ll be getting a new client in the new year. Big artist! Anyway, just wanted to inform you that I’ll be emailing over some of their paperwork. Feel free to ignore it until the new year! Have a nice trip.”

She sighs. “Interesting...but will definitely be waiting for the new year to even think about work,” she says to herself.

She throws her phone to the side. Tired of all the phone tag and messages she had begun to have to deal with as the Holiday season dawned more and more upon her. She had more important things to think about. Most important being the suitcase laid out before her and the flight she was bound to be taking in less than 24 hours. This time, she wouldn’t be picking Harry up from the airport. No, this time they were flying out of London Heathrow together.

Together together? She wasn’t sure. The kiss on her doorstep and plea of Italian holiday meant a lot to her, but did it scream committed relationship? She had no idea when it came to Harry. Maybe it was better not to ask and just wait until he told her. Wondering had gotten her in a pit last time and she never wanted to feel the way she had over the last month while he had been gone.

She sleeps in her bed for one last night before leaving for a month. Harry had managed to convince the airline to allow Rori to ride with them in first class, so she wouldn’t have to leave her dog in a kennel or with friends during the holidays. She was grateful for that and she just didn’t understand how she had gotten so lucky as to have someone like Harry in her life.

They fly first class and while Harry had secured her ticket last minute, she insisted that he take her money to pay for the ticket. She was determined to not lose herself in this process. She would happily go along with Harry’s crazy life as long as she maintained her constitution. And paying for her own ticket was one of her ways of doing that.

The flight is short, a quick jaunt compared to the arduous trips across the Atlantic, both her and Harry were quite used to from their work and family lives. He smiles at her throughout the journey, coming across the aisle often to check on her and pet Rori. He would make little jokes that wouldn’t make anyone else laugh but them and he would grab the airpod she would take out and play whatever she had been listening to and offer a dance. His little dances were so sweet, if strange and awkward in the small flight cabin.

She wore grey marbled leggings and a matching thick strapped tank top beneath a nondescript hoodie. Harry’s dressed quite nice for traveling, she presumes in case he’s papped. Linen trousers, a collared coat, and some beaded necklaces he had taken to wearing over the last few months - each month seemed to add on another necklace, but she wasn’t counting.

He had reminded her to bring large sunglasses for the airport.

He had said “I don’t care if we’re seen together, but it’s more for your comfort. I hate when my friend’s lives are put on display for the whole world. You’re not the one who signed up for this.”

She had been appreciative and grabbed her largest pair of sunglasses because truthfully she didn’t want to be seen with Harry. She didn’t want the whole world knowing her or her business, it wasn’t who she was. No, not at all. So when they step off the plane and head to baggage claim after customs, she feels aware of her surroundings in a way she never has been. It reminds her of the way Jeff, Charlotte, and Mitch had conducted themselves in the bar that one time. Extremely alert. Watching people’s eye movements and considering whether they recognized her companion. She trails behind him a fair amount, three paces at least. Harry glances back every few moments, checking in to make sure she’s still with him as they move through the bustling airport.

They make it to baggage claim with no stops, but sadly Harry’s luggage seems to give him away. That or just his presence, he was a 6 foot tall and extremely broad man who gave off this energy that couldn’t help but turn eyes. And all it took was one of those eyes to recognize the fluff of hair, the olive-y skin, the peaking bird tattoos and colorful necklaces to alert the world of just where he was.

He doesn’t get stopped for any pictures, but she feels the number of eyes on him grow. She also watches as Harry doesn’t shrink from the growing attention. If anything, it simply makes him move quicker, but only slightly. He glances at her once to see her hood up and big green glasses covering up half her face. Rori has left his carrier and is covering the other half as she pushes a cart in front of her. He makes a nondescript nod and then sets off towards the exit, she follows behind easily.

By the time they’re in the car that was waiting to drive them to Harry’s villa, he’s gotten buzzed by Jeff just to check-in since a few photos have been uploaded of him at the airport. People were so fast. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked up Harry Styles on twitter and saw the scene she had just been apart of minutes ago on her screen now. She’s unrecognizable in the photos she happens to appear in and to everyone else she looks like another traveler instead of Harry’s companion or whatever she was to him. Instead of his friend.

Harry calls Jeff as they’re driven to his lovely sprawling home near Lake Como. He informs him they’re fine - he is quick to ensure that Y/N is well after asking her himself once they had gotten into the confines of the small car. She thinks it’s sweet especially because she was sure that Jeff really was more focused on Harry and his well-being since he was both his friend and his client while she was just an extra. The two men talk about the flight and customs and what Jeff will be doing with his holiday since he had turned down Harry’s invitation to come out to Italy as well. This leaves her to stare out the window at the passing scenery. She and Rori are completely content with this as they watch the tranquil life around them as they pass by little forests and towns over cobblestoned ground.

The colors seem brighter throughout Italy compared to the sad and gloomy winter of London. The dreary scape traded for something far more picturesque. Italy growing ever more beautiful the closer they drive to Harry’s home. Everything was so radiant, from the sun shining above her head to the little dew drops still pooled on the perfectly green leaves of plants she knew not the names of.

The car pulls up to the long driveway to Harry’s place which he insisted was just a house, but she knew better. The driveway felt like half a mile of perfect cobblestones, seemingly handpicked to make the smoothest drive. Outside the house sat a gorgeous little convertible that was in between steel and cream and sparkled in the sun. The top was currently up, but she could tell the interior was just as nice as the exterior. Harry had a thing for cars and she suspected that no matter where he was, he managed to keep his cars in perfect condition.

The house was breathtaking due to its simultaneous simplicity and intricacy. It’s coloring was variations of cream and gold and some terra cotta. But it sprawled into the hillside behind it and wrapped around the nature to the side of it and the pool to the back right of it. There also was a little separate shed like thing that also seemed to be a residence. Harry insisted it was just an extra bedroom, but it looked like almost another house to her.

As she stepped out of the car, she thought that she might get lost in that house if she was left to wander around it by herself. A feeling she feared to get accustomed to.

The door of the house was a dark green that seemed oddly familiar to her as she walked through it. And when Harry looked back to make sure she had gotten in the house alright she recognized it. His door somehow matched the color of his eyes in dark lighting. A green that was timeless and ancient at the same time. A green that was unnerving yet inviting. A green that was Harry. She never thought she had a favorite color, but in that moment she was sure it was his eyes.

Harry calls her name and she realizes he’s been saying it for awhile.

“Sorry?”

He smiles fondly at her confused face and leans towards her as if he might kiss her. She stops breathing in that moment, wanting more than anything for that to be his next move. His chest brushes against hers, his warmth invading her space. His face is a mere milimeter from hers and she can count every speck of stubble on his jaw. But his lips don’t brush gently over hers in a way that she knew was addicting. Instead, his strong hand reaches past her and shuts the entrancing green door gently.

His eyes flicker back to her face when he pulls back, taking a single step backwards to allow for a comfortable space between them. Still close, but not like he’s about to embrace her expecting frame and kiss her.

“I asked if you wanted a tour of the house? Or if you just wanted me to pick your room.” His eyes are crinkled at the corner, a smile on his face even though his mouth is hung open in a lingering question.

She blinks her eyes and twitches her head to glance around the rest of her surroundings. Rori had run off the moment they had gotten in the door. The hallway Harry and she found themselves was narrow and simple, a single painting right behind Harry’s head was the sole decoration and a tapestry style rug beneath their feet. She nods after a moment, feeling all her words caught somewhere in her throat for no reason at all.

“Good,” he nods and gives her a funny look, trying to understand her quiet demeanor. “Just drop your stuff here for now,” he adds.

His hand encircles her wrist, as it had grown accustomed to, to lead her through the house. She bites her lower lip to muffle the little giggle that somehow escapes her as he tugs her playfully down and through the house.

He goes on about almost every piece of art and trinket he has hung and placed throughout the house. Each thing has its story and Harry waxes eloquent on every single one. He shows her each room in the house and then leads her outside through the single door of the master bedroom on the second floor. The door takes them onto a small balcony that overlooks the center of the estate which included the pool and then a garden to the left of the converted poolhouse - what Harry insisted it be called when Y/N had told him it was a mini house.

His hand has traveled down to intertwine with hers as the tour had drawn on. So as he leads her down the little spiral staircase to the ground floor, she hums at the warmth his thumb rubs into her skin ever so softly. His eyes flicker to her face and hold her gaze for a moment as he watches her descend the last two stairs.

She smiles at him, her cheeks rosy from the air outside. They walk between the garden and the pool to reach the “converted pool house” and she stops for a moment to dance her fingers through the perfectly clean pool water - he must have had a housekeeper who came by recently to open everything up and clean it all.

“This is truly amazing, Harry,” she sighs as she stares out at the entire house from the single stone upstep to the little cottage. It gave her a view of the entire place besides the front of the house. It was gorgeous.

Harry nods, tucking his head to his chest slightly, possibly feeling a little bashful. Behind the successful man that stood before her was a young boy with a dream that had made this possible and he never forgot that.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely and unlocks the door of the cottage, a similar green is painted on this door as well.

She goes ahead of him at his request and he watches her fingers on the green paint, caressing it softly, each finger never wishing to leave it as they slowly depart its surface. This place is just a microcosm of the house they had just been. A kitchenette, a living area, a bedroom, and a full bath - including a freestanding tub.

She all but runs around the place, fingers running over the countless spines of books that Harry mindlessly chose to store there in ceiling high bookshelves and eyes taking in prints of personal photography he had been too nervous to store anywhere but here. There were larger poster sized prints as well as smaller ones, all black and white, of different scenes on the walls of the living area. Some were portraits of loved ones, others were landscapes of cities and countryside alike, and some were of past lovers with their hair swept behind them as they looked back at Harry in some beautiful place. She smiled at these obviously film photographs and turned to Harry after a moment, almost mirroring the people in the more personal pictures.

“When’s the last time you used your camera?” She asks.

Harry’s figure is perched in the door, his body slightly slumped on the frame while he rolls his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He hums, thinking back to the last time he took out his camera.

“Last tour...I think. I got film back with Camille in it and I just didn’t feel like putting more in it after that,” he rasps out and clears his throat at the end, clearly unnerved by the topic.

“Well, these are beautiful, you have a smart eye for catching precious moments,” she smiles softly, understanding Harry’s apprehension.

“Thanks,” his voice still a bit deeper than usual, “I still use my Super8 pretty regularly when I’m doing things for work. Like when I shoot music videos, I usually bring it along to get my own footage for later.”

She only nods and watches him enter the room, moving closer to her to gaze at the images more up close as well.

“I like to have something to remember it by. Just in case, someday,” he starts and sighs, eyes trained on the wall of memories, “My mind isn’t what it once was.”

She watches him delicately place his hand on the couch behind them to brace himself and she notices the slight fear in his face as he says it. She blinks at the scene in front of her. A man in an amazing moment in his life fearful that it might all disappear from his vision someday. A horrible thought that seems to plague him more often than one would expect.

She nudges closer to him immediately. Her shoulder brushes his arm as she presses her head to his own shoulder and stays there firmly.

“Thank you,” she whispers and his head drops down to look at her face now radiating warmth against him. “For sharing this with me.”

His hand on the couch moves to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. Instinctively, she wraps her arms around his waist and he rests his head atop of hers. He stays silent but places a chaste kiss in her hair. She squeezes harder, telling him everything is alright and all he had to be with her was himself.

He switches his gaze between the girl wrapped up in him and the pictures of the rest of his life in front of him and he takes it all in. He feels safe, a comfort he was hard pressed to find with his life always on the move. The bustling change felt eons away while he was wrapped up in her. She was constant and kind. Understanding. She took him as he was, no expectations. That realization has him melting further into her, his head dropping down to her shoulder and nosing into her hair. His hands cusping at the back of her neck and the small of her back. And he presses firmly yet gently.

They stand there, swaying slightly to an unknown tune that played only in their private world of just them two.

A branch sways too and breaks them out of their reverie when it taps against the French doors that lead out to somewhere else in Harry’s estate.

“I think I’d like to stay here, if that’s alright,” she says, pulling back from him only slightly.

His hands migrate from their embrace around her back and neck and slide to her hip and her shoulder separately. Her hands both rest on his chest and she feels his consistent heartbeat that she had been listening to for the last few minutes against her ear.

His eyes sparkle at her suggestion. “Really? There’s plenty of spots in the main house,” he rushes.

“No, I love this place,” she glances around once more, soaking in the cozy room that housed Harry’s art. “Plus, your family will be here tomorrow and you should all be together under one roof for the holidays. I know how rare that can be.”

He nods in agreement and twists a tendril of her hair around one of his fingers slowly. She doesn’t notice until he makes an experimental and playful tug on it. Her lips purse at the feeling and her eyes narrow.

“You’re an evil little thing under all those layers of niceties and kind words, Mr. Styles,” she says as she pulls away from him.

Now that it was decided on where she would be staying for the next few weeks, she wanted to get her things settled and take a shower possibly. She also needed to check in on Rori and see what he had gotten up to while they had been wandering.

Harry laughs, filled with an unmatched glee as he follows her out of the cottage and back into the main house, “I can show you evil if that’s what you want, dove. I’ll give you anything you want.”

And while she knows he’s saying this in jest, she knows he’s also telling the truth. He’d give her just about anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask.

-

After settling the house a bit, finding where Rori wanted to sleep - he chose inside the main house, and some showers, she and Harry both felt refreshed.

She walked out of the front door of the cottage and crossed to the French doors at the middle point of the house. They had them open to get fresh air in the house and she walked right through and into the kitchen where she found Harry and her dog happily perched on the countertop.

Rori batted at Harry’s hands and nuzzled into his scratches as Harry cradled him to his chest. It was criminally sweet and she knocked on the door frame to pull Harry’s attention away from her furry friend.

“You look nice,” Harry smiles.

She glances down at her outfit; a cashmere olive colored sweater and high waisted cream corduroys along with her sneakers of choice. She thought it was casual, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. She murmurs a thanks and a quick “you too”, she didn’t even need to look at what he was wearing, he always looked good. Her head tilts to rest on the door frame as well, her eyes trained on Harry’s face.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He inquires as he places Rori back on the ground.

The dog scampers to her side for a moment before running off to do his own thing. Her lips quirk up on the sides and her eyes narrow slightly. He’s looking at her with a quiet confidence set in his jaw that she doesn’t quite understand.

His smile makes her bite her lip, slightly unnerved by the energy he was giving off. Maybe it was because they were completely alone - not something new to them since that’s how they interacted almost solely, but something about being in Italy seemed to have shifted the dynamic. Something in the water or whatever that saying was.

“Do I get to drive?” She stands from her leaning position and crosses in front of him.

His laugh comes out quickly and heartily. “No chance, dove.”

She groans and pushes at his shoulder.

“Trust me, you’ll like it better. Can just enjoy the scenery, don’t have to focus on the road.”

He wraps a hand around her waist and then scoots her towards the door that would lead them out of the house. She giggles at the contact and she feels him watching her. It felt nice, felt simply theirs.

He drove her down the driveway and onto a country road until it merged into a road by the lake. He brought the top down so the wind rushed around them, blustering about as he drove at a quick yet somehow leisurely pace. She glanced at the scenery and took a few pictures, but something else kept demanding her attention.

Harry. He was a quiet kind of handsome in this moment. It wasn’t in your face, it was just how each curve of his skin seemed perfectly placed. Every pore was clear and every mole had a reason. His tattoos peeking from his collar and shirt sleeves were that perfect inky black that remained smooth. It was consistent, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he would smooth it back without even thinking. His eyes were focused and bright, yet slightly stormier than normal. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. And she wondered what she had done to be beside him at that moment. Wondered what it was that she had done to be cared for by Harry.

His hand on her leg brings her out of her mind once again. His looks always seemed to get her lost in thought. He was just that special. No one else had ever caused any similar reaction. His fingers splay on her thigh, no rings on them today. He rubs his thumb back and forth softly and she leans closer to him to whisper in his ear. They were completely alone, but it felt like something even the wind didn’t deserve to hear.

He tilts his head to her, eyes flickering to her movement for a moment and then back to the road. His hand on her thigh slips upwards with how she moves.

“I’m the most lucky girl in the world,” she says, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she says the words.

She pulls back and stares at him, her hand going down to her thigh to play with his lovingly. He looks at her again and sees her serious expression. This causes him to pull over on the side of the road by the water. He rubs at her thigh again with his thumb and she shifts in her seat.

“And why’s that?” His voice low as he asks and shifts the car into park.

“Because I’m here, with you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world.”

He hums in response and licks at his lips when her sweater happens to fall off her shoulder. She notices the slip, but doesn’t bother to fix it since she also saw how Harry’s eyes danced over the newly exposed skin.

“I wouldn’t trade this either” the words dance slowly off the tip of his tongue. His accent fuller as he says the last word. “Let’s walk around,” Harry suggests when he sees her eyes flicker between his and his lips.

They explore the grassy area that lives just before the dip of the water at Harry’s request. He guides her along with his hand entwined with hers. Her eyes stay on only him still, the scenery unable to compare to the beauty of him that she was just fully realizing how bad she wanted to be enveloped in. His profile is illuminated by the sun shining above them and she swears he’s sparkling under the light.

The fear of what they were and all of the things that came along with labels were the furthest away thoughts. The man who had been the quirky neighbour had transformed into the man she was pretty sure she was in love with. Too afraid to say those three words, she decided the best thing she could do was to show rather than tell.

“Harry,” she calls and he stops his wandering, turning to face her instead.

A hand reaches up to trace over his strong cheekbone and caresses down the side of his face and cradles his slightly stubbled jaw. Her thumb rubs over the place where his dimple often showed up. He sighs into her touch and says her name back. His voice fails him as he gazes down at her, everything he means to say dies in his throat, for once at a loss for words.

She purses her lips and reaches up to connect their lips, having missed his sweet lips touch. They were meant to press against hers. Harry seems to forget how to breathe, her initiating the kiss between them, something foreign to him, but not unwelcome. He leans down to make it easier on her and she glows in his reciprocation. His hand shifts to cradle the back of her head as the kiss continues. Their lips dance, brushing back and forth, tongues slightly licking into one another’s mouths ever so delicately, playfully even.

A specific clash of teeth as the kiss continues leads to a breathless laugh from her as Harry presses himself closer to her. His other hand pressing her waist safely into him. She happily obliges, sinking one hand to rest over his backside which makes him smile.

“Naughty,” he mumbles against her brightening lips, eyebrows bobbing over his closed eyes.

She laughs now, her head tilting up for a moment, eyes opening to look at his face, yet up so close it's just his eyes and upper cheeks. His eyes are extra large from this angle and the grey green they had been dancing between had merged into a darkening seafoam green that was rather rare for them. She wanted to take an inventory of every color his eyes managed to be, but she was sure the list would never end.

“You like it,” she quips back, a peck sneaked at the corner of his mouth. That little love touch leads to more minutes of making out. Her supple and soft chest against his strong one, hands roaming the other’s body searching for purchase. Soft sighs and gentle moans leave Harry’s mouth when she nibbles at his ear and leaves loving kisses to his neck and collarbone. She makes similar sounds when he laves his tongue over the hollow of her neck and mouths happily on her neck.

The sight of them is two lovers enthralled in each other’s mouths and bodies in a meadow beside a lake. The sounds of nature are only overtaken by their happiness with each other.

When he ruts his hips against her body and she writhes against him with eagerness previously not seen, Harry realizes just how in public they are and he pulls away. A whine of discontent falling from her lips before she can control herself.

“We should…” He falters again, staring down at his neighbour he had begun to want more than anything else in the world, “Should head back.”

“Right,” she nods curtly.

Hands falling back to her sides, but Harry grabs one of them and intertwine their fingers as they had them before. She smiles so wide her eyes crinkle at the corners and he can’t help himself to peck at the left side of her temple.

They drive back to the house and Harry suggests a dip in the pool which Y/N agrees to easily. Something to cool them off from the heavy makeout session they had partaken in down by the water.

“Everyone else is arriving tomorrow,” Harry says after he surfaces from his expert dive into the deep end. He treads water lightly and drifts towards her.

She’s floating on her back a little ways from him. Her hair was shimmery all wet again and the  skin of her face glowed with tiny droplets. Her eyes were closed as she moved her hands back and forth through the comfortable water.

She feels his eyes on her, burning into her, waiting for a response. She peaks open one eye and looks at him. His cheeks pinken quickly from the slight embarrassment of being caught, but he doesn’t look away.

“It’s going to be really fun, Harry,” she rights herself and swims closer to him causing him to smile happily. “I’m really happy to be here.”

“It won’t be just us anymore,” he says, swimming backwards and creating a slight chase for her as she follows after him.

She narrows her eyes at his tactics, but still follows as he swims to the edge of the pool where they could both stand.

“Nope, but we’re gonna really get the holiday spirit flowing. Family dinners and games, shopping for gifts...this really is one of my favorite times of the season,” she smiles back at him and puts her hand against the edge of the pool, her chest emerging from beneath the cooling water.

Droplets roll down her chest, racing down her body and in between her cleavage. Harry’s eyes follow the water droplets disappearing beneath her bright red tied bikini top. He gets distracted when the air pebbles her nippls beneath the thin wet fabric, his tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight. The round of her breast was especially full in the thin fabric. He had never seen this much of her despite their friendship lasting for many months now. It was...mouthwatering and his eyes stayed trained on her breasts as they rhythmically moved up and down with her breathing. It was like a spell.

That he was brought out of when a splash of water flicks at his face. She gives him an obvious look saying she had caught him staring and then she rolls her eyes at his smirk obviously not embarrassed by his latest fixation.

“We won’t be alone like this,” he steps closer to her, his own chest running with water droplets. His hair messy and wet atop his head as he pushes it off his forehead. “Possibly at all for the next three weeks,” he continues and hears her breath catch as he moves even closer. His body hovers a moment away from hers as he stares down at her. His nose almost brushes hers as he starts to lean down. She stays almost completely still. Her head moves though to allow Harry access to where his mouth seems to be headed, the side of her neck.

“After today,” he whispers before smudging an open mouthed kiss just below her ear.

A small gasp escapes her at his hot breath and a searing kiss against her chilled skin. She feels his smirk on her skin as he continues down her neck, leaving spongy eager kisses down the column.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a problem,” she tries to remain composure, feeling the burn inside of her pitch back up. The fire had dulled from the kissing by the lake once they had swam, but here he was pressing into her once again. Suddenly more eager and forward than he had ever been. Her breathing is hard to regulate with his expert hands running along her naked sides below the water and his legs backing her into the edge of the pool while his lips make love to her neck.

“Oh?” Harry hums, moving a hand up to fiddle with a strap of her top, the wet nylon twisting easily and then he lets it snap back softly. Her arousal only grows from the tiny smack. “Not a problem, eh?” His lips travel down between her breasts and she gasps in anticipation.

“Won’t be able to make you feel this good anytime you want,” he breathes and then ghosts over her covered pebbled nipple.

“You’re a tease, Harry,” she grips at his shoulders that are hunched to allow him to kiss on her. Her eyes having the perfect view of his curved neck and spine, the skin an expanse of clear perfect flesh, no tattoos in sight from this angle. The little curls at the nape of his neck trickling with spare droplets as he sucks on her own skin.

“Hmm…” his lips travel back up to the underside of her jaw causing her to tilt her head back and her stimulated chest to press into Harry’s. A chuckle passes against her skin as he feels her two points press into him.

Then, suddenly, he pulls back and grips at the back of her head to make her look at him. His eyes are deep and dark as the day starts to wear on, the sun beginning to set off in the distance.

“Maybe I need to demonstrate just what you’ll be missing out on?” He tilts his head at his suggestion and the glimmer in his eyes shows that he knows exactly what he has to say to get his friend - and soon to be lover - riled up.

Her chest heaves once, longing for the warm touch of Harry’s lips again. “What are you getting at?”

“Wanna make you feel so good you’re begging me to call my family up and tell them to not bother coming because we won’t be leaving your bed for the next few weeks.”

A breathless laugh leaves her, in disbelief, but also in wanton need. Her desire for him grew tenfold in the last ten minutes. His last sentence leaves her itching with longing. For his touch as he promised it.

“Give me the best you got then,” she challenges, her conviction never wavering despite her needy state.

That little sentence is what sets Harry’s eyes ablaze and has him gripping her waist and picking her up and setting her on the edge of the pool.

A quick press of his lips against hers and a “wait here” before he’s pulling himself from the water and shuffling to grab one of the towels he had laid out. She watches him curiously, confused why he had just promised to ravage her but was pausing to towel off.

He comes back with the towel and lays it behind her.

“Harry, what are -”

A finger presses to her swollen lips as his other hand goes to her shoulder and lays her back.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

She nods, eyes wide and glassy as she stares up at him kneeling over her, his body between her bent knees. He leans down to press another kiss to her lips and then begins his decent.

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he whispers.

Down her throat that he had happily been sucking on. His lips ghost over her still hard nipples and his hot breath has her arching off the ground immediately. A whine leaving her lips when he mouths between her two breasts in the valley just above the tie of suit. His fingers dance around on her skin, playing with her swimsuit fabric and she wants to scream at him to just untie it and really touch her, but she refrains. He continues his assault down her body. His hands grip at her knees when his lips travel below her navel. Her breaths have grown more strained as he’s gotten closer and closer to her heat. The cold wet fabric that covered her was a poor substitute to what she wanted to rub against her.

“Please,” she begs in a sigh as Harry’s lips skip where she wants him, instead traveling to her upper inner thigh.

He spreads her legs wider with his arms and her back arches further, her body just about fully on display for Harry. His eyes flicker up to her face that was staring right back down at him, watching his every move.

The cheeky bottoms left little to the imagination and the ties on the sides were so enticing Harry’s fingers smoothed up her thighs and began to toy with them. His face now hovering over her clothed center. His breath fanning the flames of her arousal just below the cherry fabric.

“See,” he smirks, eyes back on her face, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already begging.

“You’re an ass,” she grits out, trying to not be bothered by how easily he has gotten her in this position.

He clicks his tongue and tugs experimentally at one of the bottoms ties, “S’not a very nice thing to say to the man who’s about to stick his tongue in ya’?”

She gasps and slaps at his right shoulder at his crudeness. “You’re dirty!”

“And you’re wet,” he says confidently, smirking up from between her legs.

His fingers finally tug the ties undone and pull the fabric away from her center. The red bikini bottom falls limply to the ground and Harry’s eyes train on her glistening mound. Wet with the pool water as well as her arousal. To add to the cool air ghosting over her newly exposed skin, Harry blows his own breath over her. She writhes at the sensation, she bites at her lip to hold back any possible moans.

He glances at her face again and settles one arm to be wrapped around her leg and pressing down on her left hip. His other hand snakes between his face and her body and lightly drags between her folds. She bucks her body again, completely in need of some friction after all of the build up and teasing of today. Every nerve down there was electrified at the possibility of Harry finally touching her like this.

His finger pulls back and a string of arousal clings to him, a testament to the filthy thoughts she had about her neighbour. Thoughts she had pushed away for so long until recently. Thoughts she only indulged in in the dead of night, when she was exhausted but her mind insisted on wandering to the green sharp eyes that might stare at her if he ever were to delve into her depths. Her hands would travel to where he was now and rub out a triumphant shake of her thighs and heaving chest all in hopes that maybe he would bring her to that euphoria himself one day. Well that day was today.

He filthily takes that finger into his mouth and grins.  “So wet,” he corrects.

His eyes disappear from view as he launches into his work. His drying curls flop over his forehead and tickle at her lower stomach slightly. He flattens his tongue and licks a strong stripe between her folds. The wet from her weeping hole spreads to her lips and around her clit as his finishes the lick with a little swirl. He uses his free hand to spread apart her lips a little more and takes the new angle to suck on the little puffy nub that is already throbbing. She gasps audibly when he pulls off of it with a squelching sound.

“Fuck,” he sighs and goes back to eating her out, happily pressing his tongue into her.

His hand on her hip travels to grope at one of her breasts and he deftly pulls at the top’s tie and grips onto her skin underneath the fabric. The strong grip mixed with his expert work between her thighs has her moaning loudly and her body writhing as he builds her up.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb on her nipple flicking happily back and forth. “Scream it out,” he says into her quivering center, ���Nobody around to hear you, be as loud as you want.”

She moans louder at his words, her hands gripping harder into his hair. The thought of this scene turns her on even more. In all honesty, if someone did hear them she’d kind of like it. If someone walked in and saw her stretched out next to the pool with their wet bodies writhing against each other in pleasure. Harry’s head buried between her thighs making her feel better than she ever has, her breasts falling out of their top as he massages them harshly.

“Taste so sweet,” he groans, lapping at her tight hole, the muscle contracting against his tongue’s invasion.

She liked how messy he got with it, not that she really had much coherent thoughts in this moment. But his hot tongue swiping up and down and back and forth over her glistening lips and sucking on her clit left her breathless. Her juices and his saliva were making a mess of her thighs and the towel below her. When Harry felt her getting closer he’d back off and pay attention to another part of her and then go back to sucking and nipping perfectly into her.

She was eventually stuttering out, “I’m going to cum, Harry.” Breathing becoming uneven as she was about to tip over the edge. He nods, sucking harder at her clit one last time before taking his tongue and pushing it in and out of her hole, one of his thumbs traveling to rub over her clit in quick succession.  

“Cum for me, dove,” he mumbles quickly before going back to making her feel good.

She grips her own nipple now with one hand and Harry’s hair with the other, her hips pushing up into Harry’s face over and over again. And then she’s hitting her climax and tipping over the edge, a moan ripping from her throat and freezing on her face as Harry eats her out through it. His tongue licking over her quivering pussy. His thumb rubbing comforting circles around her clit until she stopped shaking. Her breathing slowing down, eyes fluttering open eventually. They lazily stare at the man below her who’s lips and chin are slick with her juices as he grins up at her.

“Do you want me to call my mum now or wait until you’re fully back on earth,” he says slyly and kisses the inside of her thigh once more. Eyes lovingly staying on her pleasured out face.

“Seriously talking about your mom while you’re still between my thighs,” she breathes out, completely in disbelief. Harry and her had never gone that far before and it was life changing. He had been right, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t sure if she could go three weeks without that again.

He sits up and begins to gently pull back on her swim bottoms and tie them back up. She lays there watching him work.

“How about now?” He asks with a smirk, moving to sit beside her and help her sit up when her bottoms have been readjusted. The fabric against her newly sensitive area was definitely interesting, but she couldn’t care with Harry beside her. She ties off her top on her own, even though Harry gestured that he could do it.

“Shut up,” she laughs and takes a hand to caress at his cheek.

He nuzzles into her touch.

“You forget I’m staying in the cottage...separate from everyone else,” she winks at him.

“Think they’ll still be able to hear ya’ from in there, dove. You’re a loud one,” he bites the inside of his cheek as he teases her.

She huffs and drops her hand, “I was gonna return the favor, but now I don’t think so.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh and reach out to her face, he pulls her face close to his, bringing her eyes level with his. “I’m just teasing. Plus, you don’t need to return the favor, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

A laugh bubbles from her lips at the thought of Harry wanting her as much as she wanted him and she pecks at his lips. She grimaces only a little, tasting herself on him still.

“We’ll just have to be sneaky,” she pulls back and rests her forehead against his.

“Yeah,” Harry breaths out. His breath hitches when he feels her hand begin to trail down his chest and fiddle with the hem of his shorts. Her eyes are trained on his, expressionless like she wasn’t beginning to palm his hardened length over his sticky swim shorts.

“I told you,” he musters, “You don’t have to.”

“But,” she rasps, finally. “I want to,” she licks her lips with determination, “Want to make you feel good, too.”

He hums as her soft fingers go back up to the hem of his shorts and he helps her pull them down as he gives a nod of approval to her watching eyes.

Her eyes widen when his length is finally revealed and its bright red tip stands tall and strong against Harry’s stomach, placing itself slightly just below one of the ferns. Harry watches her lick at her hand and then places it between his thighs, her body positioned right next to him. On her knees, she makes an experimental first pump, seeing how his body responded. Her eyes mainly watch his face and an open mouthed smirk twitches onto his face when he notices her gaze. She pumps him again, twisting her wrist this time and swiping at the precum leaking from his tip. A groan leaves Harry’s mouth at that and his stomach flexes, the skin beneath his many tattoos hardening.

“Feel good?” She inquires.

“Great,” he breathes out as she leans forward on her knees and attaches her mouth over his head.

She slowly moves her head down and attempts to fit his entire length into her mouth, but despite her best efforts, she can’t quite get her throat to open up for his entirety yet. After holding him there for a moment, his head scratching at the back of her throat, she pulls off. Heaving a sigh and continuing to work him with her hand, her now glassy eyes look at him. Saliva gathers at her mouth and Harry can’t help himself but reach one of his hands from behind him to her lips. He swipes at it and presses the wet to her lips which she sucks at eagerly, a whine hidden beneath the action.

When his hand pulls away she says, “You’re quite girthy.”

“Girthy?” He sputters, both at the funny comment but also that she’s said it while still jacking him off.

“Mhmm,” she nods seriously, “Couldn’t get you all in.”

“That’s alright,” he starts, but falters on a specifically masterful tug. She grins, knowing what she's doing to him. “You seem to excel, no matter the setbacks.”

“I’ll get it eventually,” she begins to speed up her strokes, “Just need a bit of practice.”

Then her lips are pressing back onto Harry’s prick. She sucks solely at his head and Harry moans out as he gets more sensitive. Then she slides down further and bops her head vigorously. She wants Harry to come undone for her just like she had for him. Make him feel like she had moments ago. And within a few more minutes of enthusiastic sucking and pumping of her hands, even some fondling of his balls which Harry had been extremely receptive to, she has him stuttering beneath her.

One hand gripping at her hair, while the other keeps him upright, Harry’s head is thrown back on his shoulders as he tries to keep his eyes open and trained on the girl taking him so well down her lovely little throat.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart,” he pants, his hips bucking up once as he begins to lose control.

This only spurs her forward, spit drooling down his cock every time she pulls back from his slightly. Her ass is high in the air now as she arches over his length, trying to get him to unload.

“Taking me so well,” Harry praises. “Fuck,” he exclaims at another squeeze of his balls.

She swirls her tongue around his runny head and then hollows her cheeks and sucks on him with everything she’s got. This has Harry cursing and repeating her name, his load spurting into her mouth as she stays still. His chest now covered in beads of sweat as he tries to catch his breath after tipping over the edge himself. His eyes are trained on her. She keeps her lips diligently around his cock, wanting to swallow everything he’s just expended. When he’s done, she pulls back and sits on her legs, swallowing quickly and staring at Harry as she does it.

His eyes bug at the sight. She was the hottest woman in the world and she’d just sucked him off so well that he’s pretty sure he saw stars. Then she made eye contact as she swallowed his cum with her pretty little bikini barely covering her anymore, as she seemed to shift slightly uncomfortable in her drying bottoms. God, he was fucked.

“Shit,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re an absolute angel.”

-

Harry’s family arrives the next day and the pair have a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. She doesn’t know why they decide to start this little game where they pretend like they don’t want to jump each other’s bones each minute of the day. But as the days go by, they maintain to his family and chosen family that they are only neighbours who became friends. Anne gives a knowing look to Gemma every so often and Gemma’s boyfriend whispers in her ear sometimes, but for the most part they buy it.

No one notices that some nights Harry’s or Y/N’s beds are vacant sometimes. They don’t see him descend his spiral staircase at midnight or see her scamper next to the pool and slip into her cottage in the wee hours of the morning.

In the nights, it’s Harry’s soft lips pressed against her hot skin, panting praise and leaving little bite marks that can’t be seen with clothes on. Her lips mouth at his shoulder when fills her up and she exhales a breath that feels like she’s been waiting to let go for her entire life. They make each other feel good and they don’t talk about it but the secrecy of it makes it all the more enticing.

At least that’s what she thinks. Harry had been completely ready to tell his family about him and Y/N, at least that things were new between them, but when she introduced herself to his mum and Gemma she had said she was a friend. Harry had gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing hard, taking in the change of direction and agreeing with Y/N immediately. “Just a friend” he confirmed with a nod of his head and glance at her. She had smiled wide and given a hug to the other most important women in his life like she’d known them forever.

He didn’t understand why she wanted it this way, but his objections would be forgotten when night fell and she’d do the things he’d only dreamt of. Her breathy whimpers and pliant body would all but wipe his mind of any other thoughts but her and then he had no complaints, just a wish for the night to never end.

Y/N doesn’t even tell Cate when she calls her a week into the trip. It’s just something she wants to keep to herself and Harry. Their own private world.

It’s Christmas Eve when that bubble pops. The Champagne has been flowing for hours non stop - well only stopping when a different drink is in their hands, whether that be red or white wine or a mixed drink Harry has decided to concoct.

In the big Italian house, he’s free of prying eyes and he’s able to truly spend quality time with his loved ones. They have fancy dinners at private restaurants, go on gorgeous hikes, swim, and relax. They have a good time with playing holiday games, which they do most nights when they stay in.

Tonight’s the first night that Harry and Y/N haven’t ended up on the same team. He fears that most times he cheats it by swapping a paper or two, but tonight the alcohol has fizzed his brain and he forgot. This shouldn’t be a problem, not really. Except that everyone in the house has learned over the past week and a half that besides being perfectly matched in almost everything else, Harry and her are both equally and extremely competitive. Being on the same team has both advantages and avoids squabbles like the one the house has found themselves in at half past 11.

Harry’s arguing that his team got the last question before the buzzer went off, but she won’t back down. She is sure that Gemma had said the correct answer, but after the timer had run out. Everyone else was too sauced to care, but Harry and her were adamant and passionate about game play. As the argument heats up, Anne gives Gemma another one of those looks.

Y/N has stood up and crossed the short distance to Harry. She’s a breath away from him and he puffs up his chest, his eyes dark and serious as he’s ready to fight for this win all night.

“The time was out,” she says simply, but her eyes are beginning to glower.

“No. It was not.” He states back.

His eyes narrow at her as she stares right back at him.

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

They go back and forth, rapid fire as the alcohol in their veins flows straight to their mind and hearts.

“Children please!” Gemma exclaims,  finally growing tired of the bickering. “It’s Christmas. Harry show some spirit and let your guest have the final say.”

They think she’s done but then adds, “Or else she might never want to come back here.”

Harry exhales harshly through his nose as his gaze flickers to his older sister and listens to her scolding. Handing over the timer to Y/N, which had been what kept them from moving on, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

“Oh gosh,” Y/N says after a moment, her frazzled mind processing that Harry’s leaving has something to do with her. A hand goes to her lips for a moment, a ghost of his warm breath still there, but gone too soon.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she confirms and exits the room, following Harry’s footsteps.

She finds him on his front porch step, his breath misting in the cold air, much like it would back in London when they’d walk the neighbourhood streets together.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she says, placing a hand on his left shoulder to really get his attention.

He turns from looking out at the clear night sky, his nose and cheeks already pinkened from the night breeze. His eyes are still dark out here, but there’s no malice or anger behind them. His lips tilt up on one side for a forgiving half smile, but there’s also some pain mixed in there.

“You wouldn’t not come back, right?” He asks helplessly, his smile faltering.

She swallows, taken aback by the question, both unsure of where it came from but also how exactly her drunk brain was supposed to respond with the double negatives.

“I’d come back next Christmas and the Christmas after that, Harry,” she whispers, “If you wanted me to of course.”

“Of course I’d want you to. I want you, sweetheart. All the time.” His voice isn’t slurred, but it’s raspy, a slight dry mouth from all the alcohol consumed tonight.

“Okay,” she confirms, “Then I’ll come back.”

They stand on the porch silently for a few minutes, eyes on one another, but no movement towards anything. It’s not a profound moment for their hazy minds, despite the meaning behind their words. It’s not quite clicking for them, but maybe tomorrow when they wake up with massive headaches it will register.

“I really am sorry,” she repeats when she sees little goosebumps begin to prick at his skin.

He had forgotten a jacket. And while his drunk blanket makes him immune to the feelings, her brain still registers that she doesn’t want him to get sick.

“S’alright. For what it’s worth, I was being a little childish. So, m’sorry too.” He says sincerely, maybe a little slurring of words slipping in.

He reaches a hand out of his pocket to touch at her upper arm. She can feel his warmth from beneath her thin long sleeve. They smile at one another and turn to reenter the house, feeling the giggly tide of alcohol wash over them again. Euphoria on their mind rather than family game malice.

Just as they’re about to open the door to the house. The two of them at the precipice of a house, a place they often find themselves, Gemma swings it open face and with little care for its heaviness. She glances between her brother and his “friend”  and then up to the top of the door.

The top of the door? Why was she looking at the top of the door? Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe!” Gemma exclaims, pointing between the two of them. “You’re beneath the mistletoe, go on!”

Harry shakes his head in protest, falling onto the sword of friendship again. But then Y/N is grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and pressing her lips to his. It’s a little sloppy, but Harry can’t help but enjoy the taste of her against him. They slot together like they usually do, but this time his sister is watching them, which is a little odd, but his muddled mind quickly forgets that fact. Her tongue is the deciding factor as it licks into his mouth and he licks back, pulling her closer by the waist. They get lost in the kiss and only pull apart when they hear a cough.

Gemma is now accompanied by the rest of the household watching them in disbelief. Everyone’s eyebrows are raised and even Rori is standing with the group, confused that the humans didn’t know they were doing this.

“Erm…” Harry has no idea what to say, shifting to face his family more fully.

Y/N blushes and shrinks into Harry’s chest, feeling like a teenager caught in the closet with her crush.

“That’s not how friend’s kiss one another,” someone murmurs.

There’s a few “I knew it”s mixed in as well with the rest of the chatter.

“Well…” She finally musters and throws a hand out to her side in a ta-da motion,

“Happy Christmas!”

-

After the revelation on Christmas Eve, everyone won’t stop teasing Harry and Y/N. The two laugh it off but something always nags at the back of their head. What they were to the other person. The status of this relationship. This friendship that had taken a turn to something else entirely.

It’s another Eve of a holiday when Harry finally musters up the courage to ask her directly. They learned from Christmas day that they couldn’t drink as much as they once did for multiple reasons. So on New Year’s Eve, they both choose to only consume a couple glasses of Champagne.

It starts with “Can we talk about us?” right after midnight. Right after Harry’s just started the New Year with her lips on his. She hears his question and takes it in, her stomach twisting with nerves and possibly excitement as well, and nods.

They slink off to his bedroom, but not for the activity everyone else was certain they were engaging in.

He sits them on the edge of the bed, both her hands clasped in one of his. He’s been quiet all day, she just realizes as he stays silent another moment longer.

“I love you,” he says in his dimly lit room.

Her jaw drops slightly, not quite expecting those three words yet.

“You don’t, don’t have to say anything yet. I just wanted you to know that,” he continues. “And that I want to be with you.”

“Harry,” she starts, breathless at his words.

“No,” he stops her again, “I felt something draw me to you the day you moved in across from me on Sherwood, like I was meant to know you or something.  Then I met you and you made me feel so comfortable, all I wanted to do was be with you and that month when you didn’t really talk to me...dove, those weeks were wretched. But when I came back, it was like nothing happened and I was so happy because I couldn’t fathom life going back to the way it was before you. When we kissed, I felt overjoyed, I was so happy that you liked me like that because every time you called me friend...felt like a knife in me. I don’t want to be just your friend,” he pauses to say her name again, “I don’t want to be just your lover, I want to be your boyfriend or whatever they call it now - If you’ll have me.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the little well up of water that had grown in his eyes. He had forgotten to blink for a moment he realized.

His stare had been intense as he’d confessed all of his feelings to her, but she didn’t feel intimidated, his gaze had warmed her with its sincerity. It had strengthened his confession.

She sighed, her own eyes not as strong as his, unable to hold his gaze as she herself said her own confession.

His hand rests between them on the bed, steadying himself upright with it. She places her own hand over it and their fingers slightly intertwine. She feels him begin to fiddle with her fingers like usual. Like normal.

“Thank you,” she starts, “Of course I’ll have you. All the time, Harry.”  She repeats his words from Christmas Eve back to him.

He starts to interject, the rambling thing, but she tugs at his pointer finger and he takes it as a sign to be quiet.

“I want to be your partner, too. I want it all with you, lover,” she gazes at him now, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek in that moment. “Want it all,” she repeats in a whisper before he’s kissing her again.

Kissing her and kissing her. Over and over again. Because she was his. And he was hers. And it was a happy beginning. A happy new year and a happy new beginning of a relationship that was bound in friendship, born out of proximity, and nurtured by two kindred souls.

And it all started with her parents making her take her dog. Harry really needed to thank that dog for being the best wing man to ever run around on four legs.

-

Who knows who that new client of Y/N’s might be...

[ackerpreach]

This ending .... I can name 500 reasons and I will name them right now, because I don’t think I’m the only one who is upset with how things turned out. (Also, A positive message for all of you at the end)

MAJOR LEAKS SPOILERS/ READ WITH CAUTION

Update: after reading more theories from fellow RM bloggers, and sleeping over it one day, this entire chapter might be an april fools... Don't fully lose hope yet beautiful people. It's me just giving a review on a possible fake April fools chapter

After following this franchise since 2013, so nearly a DECADE. this ending is a pure disserve to the entire fandom. I feel like Yams has rushed it just for the sake of being done with the entire manga. So many things are left open, characters and their developemt are reverted back all the way to chapter 1 or are left even worse than that...

Mikasa’s worthless character development/ Aaronmika’s horrible toxic codependent relationship 

Oh honey... Let’s start with how horrible Isayama has treated her. We were all rooting for her, because we all felt like she was so misunderstood. She had a horrible childhood and imprinted on a guy who treated her like trash 99 percent of the story. And then, slowly but surely, she starts to realize she has to stop obsessing over him in the uprising arc with the help of a real man who treats her like a queen, more importantly, he treats her like a real human being. This man sees her for her abilities and that she has the power to be self dependent. She learned parts of herself, that she was able to work together with him like no one else could.  She learned parts of herself she was unable to do so if she kept obsessing about Aaron. All this love, care, mutual understanding and RESPECT these two shared. 

but...NAH FUCK THAT, right Yams?? Throw all this development away, all this bonding. Let’s make the main female lead even more yandere than she already was in the first season. Let her make out with his decapacitated head (like dude, this is also pure disrespect to Aaron’s dead body btw) and let her obsess even more about the guy who has treated her no better than a piece of toilet cloth 99 percent of the time. The guy who was never really appreciative in front of her for saving his ass billions of times, who always pushed her away, who yells at her and snaps at her whenever he can instead of reasoning and talking calmly with her in mature way. (EVEN PARODY YOUTUBE CHANNELS WHO DONT SHIP ANYTHING MAKE IT A TROPE WHERE AARON TELLS MIKASA HE HATES HER GUTS WHENEVER HE CAN) 

Then after all that, suddenly Yams tries to last minute persuade us Aaron’s always been head over heels for her???  He should have build their relationship better which he hasn’t even tried to do so... He must be thinking his fans are stupid for eating this from his hands.    

Like seriously??? What is this??? 

Isayama is just fully contradicting himself. It’s like someone tipped him off with a buttload of money for him to write Aaron like this to satisfy shipping needs and to cash in those extra money’s from it. Even if he tried to cater to Erem*ika, this is not how you write a loving and caring couple which people will root for. 

This next two panels just freaking infuriates me to the core of my soul. I can’t even describe how dissapointed I am with Mikasa. 

Why is she clutching that head so obsessively like that?  Why is she walking and turning her back away from her comrades? After everything they have done for her, after all they’ve been through?! After everything Armin has done? Standing up for Mikasa, beating up Aaron for hurting her. I feel like even Jean, Connie and Sasha have cared more for her in a healthy way.  Sure, Aaron cares for her romantically too apparently (What a twist Yams :)), but has he aided her to becoming a mentally healthier individual? Has he aided in her mental stability? The answer is a big fat NO!  All I see between these two after today’s raw Chapter’s are too Yandere obsessed individuals who have no clue on how to maintain a healthy relationship. 

Love should only go as far as the heart can endure and it seems like her character is not willing to be aware of that. Even Armin was able to let go of Aaron in those latest panels. Why does her entire character resolve around this guy??? I really do not understand. Her Ackerbond and her age is not an excuse for her to throw her life away like this. 

Shonen’s disgusting portrayal of women 

I’ve seen this countless of times in the many years I’ve watched anime. SasuS*ku from Naruto, Ichih*me from Bleach, Shinji and that oranged hair girl from Neon Evangelion.. Why do these women get decreased to simpletons with one single goal? And that is to obsess over a bland male lead who either treats them like trash or doesn’t notice them up until the last last chapter (LITERALLY WHAT YAMS HAS DONE). Some go even as far as the male leading wanting the kill the female love interest and yet the female lead is still in love with them???. It’s disgusting for him to write the MAIN female character this way. 

It’s dissapointing we believed in Isayama doing Mikasa’s character right. That she’s finally being able to let go of her codependency and to live for herself maybe live in Hizuru and find more about her roots???, but every single time she shows some improvement, it’s burried deep in the ground again by the Author. It almost seems like a lowkey kink of some of the male Mangaka’s to write about a girl obsessing over them no matter what. I see this so many times to the point that I truly stand behind it that some of them might have this fantasy. 

I wished he didn’t portray her last panels like this. Everyone else is living their lives while Mikasa is still grieving about him. I’m not saying she’s not allowed to grieve and everyone takes it at their own pace, but cmon... Show her living her life too. This is too much. Her being next to his grave and grieving him as her last panels just shoves it in our faces that YET AGAIN, BEING OBSESSED WITH AARON IS ALL HER CHARACTER STANDS FOR. 

I truly despise how Isayama handles her grieving, kissing his decapacitated head, carrying it around like some handbag, and her last panels being thissss.

The world leaving Paradis alone miraciously after all that??? 

It’s so weird and out of place with so many political feuds and disagreements between the world and Paradis, the entire Rumbling happening and we can see Mikasa just chilling outside in Paradis with no one bothering them. You can see the rings of the walls in the picture below.  I don’t know the exact reason behind as the manga is still in Korean, but from what I see, the story went the route of: throwing a happy ending without enough proper reason and  it was all fixed just like that in a snap! It doesn’t fit the entire narrative of attack on titan for things to be so peacful out of nowhere. When it comes to the narrative, how things work in that world, how hard it is to achieve peace, everything made somewhat sense up until chapter 138. 139 seems so so out of place...  It’s like I’m reading a chapter from a totally different manga. 

Aaron Yoghurt got defeated so easily/ Aaron’s character assassination

The build up on the first part of the rumbling was great, those kids carrying coins. You could feel humanity’s fear and Aaron’s hatred in those pages. As if he truly had a goal and he has turned away completely from his comrades and his closest friends with no return. The world seemed truly doomed, but he  got defeated just like that. He was in the nape all this time (because screw the warhammer power of hiding yourself elsewhere in his ginormous titan body). There is no master plan as we all expected, and in the end he just acts all yandere in the paths with Armin and that’s it... They massacared his entire character as well. Many fan theories created a better ending with his character. Him being reincarnated as Historia’s baby would be so much better. For him to still keep on seeking and to strive for power. It has always been his motive. It’s his personality from the start until chapter 138. Even if things are okay, to keep on going and to seek that adventure, but then.. He’s so weak and directionless suddenly.. It’s so weird... This is not Aaron at all???

Using Aaron for him this entire post, because I don’t want others to invade our tags... :)))

Historia’s baby 

The only panel we got from Historia’s child was this. Just a normal kid, normal life... Why did Isayama put so much effort in highlighting Historia’s pregnancy if it was nothing too spectacular anyway? It seemed he had major plans for this kid and for their development too??? It’s again, big plans, big developments, big relationship dynamic, but all  got thrown out of the window... 

Don’t read the next sentence if you are a minor :’) 

It’s like almost ejaculating, but stopping right before it and repeating that every single Arc.

My energy when writing about this chapter is the same as Nostalgia Critic and his hatred for atla the live action

In Conclusion...

I know us fans should not be deciding on how this story should end, because this is Isayama’s story after all, but I truly wished for him to wrap up things much more rounded. There are so many unanswered questions... Again, I think for the sake of being done with this manga, he rushed all of it. He’s become a millionaire from this story and now his pockets are jammed full, I guess he doesn’t need to put in any effort anymore, right? Perhaps a controversial opinion, but I really wished he cared for his fans a little bit more with this last chapter by giving some answers that make sense at least. It’s his fans who gave him this platform and the opportunity to tell his story and for him to at least give in a bit of effort especially in the last chapter is the least he can do. Rivamika being canon or not, he truly rushed it without thinking much about the entire story line. He expanded it so much, he didn’t know how to bind it all together.

Even after all this, I’ll still ship them in the headcanon type of way. I do give credit to Isayama for giving us a template for such a beautiful dynamic between Levi and Mikasa. He decides to waste it, but that doesn’t mean we have to.  I want to thank all the people with amazing writing skills, the ones who give us beautiful art like @carmenlee @phit chan @vialesana​ and many more. I want to remind all of you that we can create something beautiful of our own and we don’t neccesarily need canon lore for that. The art I’ve seen, the fanfictions I’ve read have touched me deeper than Isayama ever could at times.The Mikasa in our mind is appreciate of Levi, is mature, classy and has a strong will for herself. They spend their remaining days together peacefully. Keep writing, keep drawing, stay creative. 

I love you all so so much, I’ve only been publicly active since March, but thank you Rivamika fandom for giving me so much joy as a lurker these past 7 years <3

[letsfluxshitup]

the mortifying ordeal of being cared for (ao3)

(tw injury/blood/stitches)(not permadeath btw <3)

Technoblade thought, with absolute surety, he was going to die.

He wasn't sure how he'd made it back to Pogtopia, fresh bloody handprints decorating the walls, and small pools of blood from where he rested a second too long.

It didn't matter if he died, he'd just respawn, it'd be fine, but that didn't stop the deep primal fear of death, of not coming back, of the respawn failing. 

He let out a deep stuttery breath as he fumbled open a chest, desperately searching for bandages, cloth, anything to staunch the bleeding.

He heard, faintly, some noise behind him, muttered talking that turned more frantic but he brushed it aside, it was unimportant, where was his medkit-

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his desperate searching, and he automatically swung backwards, but he was slow, too slow, and the figure easily dodged. 

He reached for his knife, fumbling to his feet, knife first, all regards for tact and technique abandoned in his desperate swing. 

He wasn't sure what happened then, vision blanking from the rush of movement, but he knew he was knifeless and being cradled to someone's chest. Quackity's, he guessed, between the panicked shrieking and signature jacket.

It was slicked with blood now, and no, his jacket shouldn't look like that, and he tried to pull away, to mitigate the damages and prevent more blood spilling. Quackity only held him tighter, arms feeling like iron bars locking him in.

Since when was Quackity so strong, Techno thought. Since when was I so weak.

His memories after that were spotty as he slipped in and out of consciousness, mostly remembering the warm water and rag that cleaned his wounds, the bite of the needle from stitches, and Quackity's soft cooing as he ran fingers through his hair, a reassurance and distraction from the burning pain spreading up his side.

--

Quackity had decided that morning that he very much did not like Pogtopia. It was cold, Tommy and Techno(traitor) bullied him, and he could never find things where he left them.

Case in point, he was clambering down the steep staircase that had fallen many a foe, in a futile search for his misplaced pickaxe. It took a second to register the blood smeared on the walls, the scent of copper smothering in the air. He walked faster, ignoring his shoes sticky with blood, as he nervously called out a tentative 'hello?'

No response.

He walked faster, gaze sharp as he took in the ravine before him, and he wished it had been lit up a little better, fumbling through long stretches of burnt out torches. He followed the trail to Techno's door and his stomach dropped, if something had fucked him up so badly, what did that say for the rest of them? 

Praying that whatever he picked a fight with was either dead or knew better than to come back, he entered the room.

"Techno?" He started, trying to sound calm but quickly dissolving into panic as he rushed towards a hunched over and bloody Techno. 

He'd barely touched his shoulder when he lashed out at him, a sharp snarl echoing through the room, eyes unfocused and uncomprehending. He lurched forwards, half crawling half on his feet, and Quackity easily, too easily, pried the blade from his hands.

Techno then face planted into his neck, a pained sob making its way out of his throat. Quackity quickly dragged him back to the ground, curling his arms around him, trying to keep his voice soothing but he knew the panic was leaking through.

Techno squirmed weakly, before stilling, a dead weight in Quackity's lap. Quackity tried to calm down, take deep breaths, but the cloying smell of blood was making it difficult to even think.

He went through the first aid he knew, haphazardly cleaning wounds and his stitches sloppy and almost definitely going to leave an ugly scar.

At least he isn't bleeding out anymore, Quackity thought nervously, splashing a regen potion on the worst of the wounds. 

After assuring he wouldn't bleed out, he found a bucket that he filled with water, keeping it warm near the fire.

He carefully cleaned the blood off of the rest of Techno, scrubbing it out of his hair and nails. He used the knife Techno had swung at him to carefully cut away his ruined shirt, cleaning the blood off of him before shoving him into a nightgown he'd found when digging through chests for more medical supplies.

Quackity decided that once Techno was better he could tease him about it, but it would probably reflect poorly on him if he made fun of a half dead bed ridden man.

He absently wondered who had given it to him, doubting he'd bought it for himself. It was covered in potatoes and looked comfy as hell, so he couldn't really judge him.

Techno was relatively dead to the world anyways, so teasing him now would be pointless. 

The most response he had gotten from the man was a reflexive splutter when he'd accidentally dropped a water soaked rag on his face, and Quackity could only hope he wouldn't remember that.

He dragged Techno into bed, mindful of his stitches, and noticing the drop in temperature. He was still unnaturally warm by human standards, but unnaturally cold by... Techno standards. Blood loss would do that to you, apparently. 

Quackity hunted down every blanket he could find in the room, uncovering some from chests and the like before carefully tucking Techno in. He looked very... small, on the bed, face colorless and slack, breaths uneven and stuttery.

Quackity hoped he wouldn't have to do anything about his breathing, that was a bit out of his area of expertise. 

All of this was out of his area of expertise, actually, but that was fine. 

Techno was breathing, wasn't he? 

Well. Mostly.

--

Techno wasn't sure how much later it was until he woke up properly, but he was propped up in his bed, thoroughly tucked in. Quackity was slumped in a chair next to him, face buried in the sheets as he snoozed. 

Techno cleared his throat, and that hurt, and his mouth tasted awful and everything else was just pain.

Quackity sat up abruptly though, hair sleep ruffled and he hastily swiped away drool. He blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before giving Techno a nervous lopsided smile.

"How's my favorite patient doing?" He chirped, standing up and carefully checking Techno's wounds. When Techno just grunted in response he waved a healing potion in front of him, and Techno was grateful for having at least a semi competent caretaker.

That gratefulness was swiftly shattered as Quackity waterboarded him with the healing potion, overzealous in his offering and spilling it all over his face and shirt. Thankfully the potion wasn't picky, and absorbed anyways, the healing effect settling in and making him feel tired.

He wanted to fall asleep, but Quackity was waving food in front of him, toasted bread slathered with sweet berries, as he stuttered out apologies.

"I'm not the, uh, best doctor-" Techno interrupted him with a snort, "but I'm the best you got for now, alright?"

Techno just gave him a flat look in response.

"Listen! Would you rather I wear a nurse outfit? Would that make you feel better?" Quackity huffed, arms crossed, and Techno made a show of shuddering in horror.

"Hey, fuck off! I have the fattest ass in the cabinet, you know! You should- you should be appreciative of- of my... Of my ass." He finished lamely, cheeks aflame as he waved his hands. "Listen, listen, let's just- we're gonna forget all that, alright?"

Techno snorted, and it hurt his throat and ribs but Quackity was grinning back at him, and he figured that made up for it.

--

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping on and off, waking up only for the occasional healing potion and sip of water. Quackity never asked what had happened, and he was glad, not wanting to explain the circumstances that had almost led to his untimely demise.

Quackity insisted on brushing his hair every time he woke up for longer than thirty seconds, chastising him about proper hair care and tangles and if Techno could say more than a word at a time he'd point out the poor state of Quackity's wings. 

As Quackity deftly braided his hair from where he'd settled behind him, Techno focused on the apple he'd been given, carefully slicing off bits with a knife and alternating between handing them to Quackity and eating them himself.

He had to question the logic of giving a very out of it patient a knife, but he quietly revelled in the feeling of comfort it gave him, and the warm feeling spreading in his chest from sharing food.

When the apple was finished and the braid completed, Techno leaned his head back, resting on Quackity's shoulder. Techno couldn't understand what Quackity was saying, instead just humming and snuggling back, dead to the world in an instant. 

Quackity felt a small pang of pride at the blatant trust, before starting to settle in for the night. Day? He'd lost track of time, caring for Techno being his prime focus.

His communicator flashed with unread messages, but he had been busy, alright? Was still busy, he thought, eyeing the knife in Techno's now loose grip.

Quackity gently took the knife from him, setting it in reach, before settling his arms lightly around Techno's torso, protective of the hastily stitched gash in his side.

It took a bit of squirming before his wings settled comfortably on his back, but finally Quackity managed to fall asleep.

--

Quackity had been helping a shaky Techno into a new shirt when the door abruptly shrieked open. 

Reflexively, Quackity reached for the knife on the bedside table before turning towards the door. Techno had drilled into him that it was better to be paranoid than dead after Quackity had unthinkingly mentioned the condition Techno was in to the others.

Privately, Quackity thought Techno was being a bit paranoid, but it helped him relax a little and Quackity really was worried about the poor guy's heart.

Wilbur stepped in, taking in the scene before him with an impassive face.

"You're making friends." It wasn't a question, more of an accusation over anything else, and Quackity wondered why Wilbur sounded offended.

Turning back to help Techno, he absently looked over his healing wounds, checking for any damages or fresh blood.

Wilbur continued to stare past Quackity, studying his brother and oh.

That's why Wilbur was offended.

Techno opened his mouth as if to speak, but Wilbur cut him off, irritation clear in his voice.

"No, no, I get it. You're injured and need to be cared for so obviously you ask the flake with a complex." Wilbur's face had turned more snide, his voice disparaging as he planted his hands on his hips.

Quackity wanted to defend himself, and also ask what kind of complex Wilbur thought he had, and also ask what the fuck, low blow, asshole.

Techno moved like he was going to stand up, looking pissed, and Quackity waved his hands frantically, wings puffing up and blocking his view of Wilbur.

"Hey, hey, c'mon, buddy, you don't have to defend my honor or anything, stay in bed." Quackity carefully guided him back into bed but Techno still looked irritated.

"He's being an ass." He deadpanned, leaning around Quackity's outstretched wings to send Wilbur a scathing look. 

To Wilbur's credit, he managed to mainly suppress his flinch, but it was still noticeable enough that Techno shot him one of his more feral grins.

Quackity, realizing he was still holding the knife, set it back down on the nightstand. This quickly turned out to be a big mistake as without hesitating Techno snatched it up, throwing it at his brother. 

Between the injuries and not actually wanting to hurt his brother, it missed by a mile, and Techno punctuated the clear message with a snarled 'out'.

Wilbur looked hurt for a split second, before he settled back into an unbothered stance, leaving the room with a muttered 'whatever'.

"Your family's fucking weird, man." Quackity finally broke the silence, letting out a nervous laugh as he side eyed Techno.

Techno just nodded slightly, scrubbing at his face before settling back into the pillows.

"He's just lashing out because he's a theatre kid and doesn't know how to process his emotions any other way." 

Privately, Techno wished Philza was here, he was always a lot better at smoothing things over. Or riling things up, depending on the situation.

"Right." Quackity said, after a bit of silence, both deep in thought. "Do you want him to take care of you? Like, I know we've settled into this sorta thing, but, like, I'm not gonna be offended or anything if you'd rather have family watch over you, y'know?" 

Techno looked perplexed for a second, before shaking his head.

"Wilbur's been pickin' fights with me lately, should probably give him space or something." He looked towards Quackity, uncertainty written across his face.

"Oh! Yeah! That makes sense, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that." Quackity nodded, self assured in that way only someone who wasn't entirely sure what they were talking about could be.

Techno snorted, before patting the bed next to him.

"Sleep?" 

"Sure. Y'know, big guy, you should feel special." Quackity grinned at him, as he settled into the bed next to him.

"Oh?" Techno raised an eyebrow, settling his arm around Quackity.

"Yeah. Not just anyone gets the Quackity into their bed." Quackity tried to hide his smile in Techno's shoulder, failing miserably once catching sight of Techno's expression. 

Techno stared down at him, eyes wide and looking... Confused? Mortified? Quackity wasn't that great at reading his expressions, yet. 

Unceremoniously, Techno shoved him off the bed, hiding his snorts in his pillow.

Quackity's hip hurt where it connected with the floor but he couldn't hold back his wide grin.

He stumbled up off the floor, flopping on to the bed and settling in against Techno, delighted he could make Techno laugh like that.

--

Quackity laid there in silent horror, staring down at the wet spot of drool on Techno's shirt. Techno would never sleep with him again. Not that he cared, or anything. Techno was just very warm and the ravine was very cold, alright?

"Techno." Quackity whispered, sitting up as best he could with Techno's arm locked around him. "Techno it's time to get up."

"No," Techno murmured, moving the arm around Quackity's waist to cup the back of his head and gently push him back into his neck. Quackity snorted into Techno's neck, before patting at his chest.

"C'mon big guy, time to get up." He squirmed out from under Techno's arm, patting at his cheek insistently. 

Techno's eyes fluttered open, looking mildly irritated, before he rolled, taking Quackity with him and pinning him underneath him.

He buried his face into Quackity's neck, free hand moving into Quackity's closest wing and lightly petting the feathers. 

Quackity huffed, batting at his hand because that was cheating, thank you very much, Quackity was going to fall back asleep at this rate.

"C'mon, Blade, we gotta get a move on." Quackity twisted the fingers of his free hand into the hair at the base of Technoblades neck, and tugged lightly.

Techno let out a warning growl, before rolling off of Quackity. Quackity side eyed him and, deciding may as fucking well, shoved Techno the rest of the way off the bed. 

He was mostly healed up anyways, and it wouldn't hurt him that much. Hopefully.

There was a beat of silence before Techno popped up from over the side of the bed, looking completely baffled.

Quackity jumped over him and made a break for the door, but Techno was faster.

He draped himself heavily over Quackity, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground, as he sighed obnoxiously in his ear.

"You're going to have to carry me, I think you broke my legs." Quackity could hear the grin in his voice, but didn't call him on it. He'd rarely seen Techno in any kind of playful mood, and he figured he could risk playing along if it made Techno happy. 

He'd only heard the man laugh a handful of times before, and all that stress couldn't be good for his heart.

Quackity barley made it another stumbling step before there was a sharp rapping at the door.

"Techno? Wilbur needs you." Tommy called through the door.

The change in Techno was immediate, the playful attitude rolling off of him as he straightened up and headed for his clothes and sword. The past... Dispute still fresh in his mind.

"Tell him I'll be there in a minute." Techno called back. 

He knocked his crown off of it's hook and Quackity reached down to grab it for him. He was met with a sharp look, Techno quickly snatching it up, the cuddly Techno from earlier replaced with a cold, more analytical persona. 

Techno whipped open the door, brushing past Tommy with barely an acknowledgement, deep in thought and looking mildly irritated. 

Tommy looked over at Quackity, shifting awkwardly. 

"Sorry about him. He's not much of a morning person." Tommy said absently, as he watched Techno move through the ravine.

"So! What do you want to eat, Big Q?" Tommy beamed at him, energy cranked up to 11 after his brother was out of sight. 

Quackity gave him an unusually soft look, before throwing an arm over his shoulder and knocking their heads together.

"What've you got here, boss?" Quackity practically chirped, letting himself be dragged away by an overly excited Tommy. He tamped down on his worry over Techno, as he settled into bantering with Tommy.

[lia-jones]

hello again lia! first of all, happy mothers' day!! you're not my mother (but i'm aware that you are one) but i normally like to take this day to tell the older women in my life how much i appreciate them. thank you for creating such a magnificent world for me and many others to enjoy. if my evol is inspiring you to write (this compliment made my day btw) then we must be very similar, because i'm sure your evol is inspiring me and others in not just writing, but life in general 💖 this might be reaching you a bit late, but i hope you had a wonderful day!

anyways, the advice you gave really helped a lot! especially the part with finding your own voice and working with it, i think that's the reason why i started writing in the first place. i've done stuff for english class in the past, but as you might know, school doesn't really encourage thinking outside the box and finding your own voice. which is kind of making the writing process difficult...but i'm slowly getting there! i wrote the first chapter and a half and i'm finally happy with where my story has started (i was struggling to figure out where i should start, since my story has lots of original lore).

alsoooo i want to ask you some interesting oc questions i found (directed towards andrea) >:3 1. what are your oc's best and worst qualities? what do they think are their best and worst qualities? 2. does their fashion sense reflect an aspect of their personality? (ie bright and colorful outfits symbolizing that they're an upbeat person) 3. what is their mbti type? 4. if they had a theme song, what would it be? (i specifically asked this one because i know how much music has influenced you to write this story, so im interested to see which song you pick) 5. what would your oc say is the happiest day of their life? ok, that's it! once again, thank you so much for being such an awesome person (please never leave tumblr) and brightening other people's day. i'm looking forward to hearing your answers to my questions, goodbye!!!! - 🌸 anon

Hello my beautiful flower!

I got your message and I was like, can't take long to answer, but life got in the way but hey! I'm here now, I found the time, yay! First of all, thank you for the kind words. I'm humbled, for me it's an honor to have you all here. Really, you left the writer with no words (tearing up a little). Second of all, I'm so glad you found your voice and were able to throw away old conceptions that (in my opinion) have very little place in literature. Write your heart out. I so long to read it, I bet it's beautiful!

Your questions are soooo goood! And I love talking about Andrea, I like how humanly flawed she is, she is so great to explore!

1. what are your oc's best and worst qualities? what do they think are their best and worst qualities?

As an innocent bystander watching it all unfold, me, Lia, as a person, I think Andrea's best and worst qualities, the two major ones I could point out, intertwine in a way I can't believe I imagined that (that's why I say they take a life of their own, really). On one hand, she is insecure. We can easily find out why, her mother was always chastising her to behave differently to hide her Evol, and because she didn't have one, she took it personally. Additionally, well, taking all the blame for what happened to Daniel tells us she feels like a disappointment, which is totally misguided and shows her insecurity. On the other hand, she is unapologetically herself. Despite her flaws. Despite her insecurities. She falters most times, but she is adamant in honoring herself, even if she doesn't fully love herself. She could be more cautious with Victor starting the relationship, but she refused to be afraid. What drives Andrea to fight isn't the fact that she's is strong (and her major flaw would be that she is completely oblivious to that) but that she refuses to live in fear. This, throughout the story, give or take a few aspects, will always be was moves her forward. I could name a lot more, and will, if you want to, but I don't want to turn this into a dissertation, so...

What she sees as her best and worst qualities? She knows she's very smart and resourceful and she knows she's tough (tough is different than strong though) and she is loyal and loving. As her flaws, I think she would simply say she is a mess. She hopes she would have it all figured out like Victor (we know he doesn't, and she kind of does too, but always see her as the worst) yet she feels like her feelings are all over the place, she is a hot head, she does things sometimes without thinking... Those are a few she would name. Oh and she still hasn't the faintest idea why Victor fell in love with her (and I guess that why he constantly reassures her of that, because he knows she looks at herself in a worse light she deserves).

2. does their fashion sense reflect an aspect of their personality? (ie bright and colorful outfits symbolizing that they're an upbeat person)

If Andrea could choose, she would wear jeans and sneakers every day. But she also understands the need to dress for the part, especially when being married to Victor, and even her job demands a certain wardrobe. She does feel the need to reinvent herself sometimes in a hard moment (like when she changed her hair during their break-up) in order to find herself. She is mostly practical, definitely not as stylish as MC. Sometimes she wishes she was, and Victor lends a hand, buying stuff for her (as long as she doesn't know how much it cost).

3. what is their mbti type? ENFP. :)

4. if they had a theme song, what would it be? (i specifically asked this one because i know how much music has influenced you to write this story, so im interested to see which song you pick) Ahhhh, I love this question! The song that totally inspired Andrea is one from the musical Waitress, She Used to Be Mine, written by Sara Bareilles. Now, as she evolves as a person and her life changes, I think her music is changing as well. For the future moments in Andrea's life, I would say her song is Raise It Up, by Florence and the Machine.

5. what would your oc say is the happiest day of their life?

All the days that represented her taking back something Daniel stole from her, her career (getting her doctorate), finding love again (when Andy and Victor got married) but the HAPPIEST, BIGGEST day of her life was when she legally became Owen's mother and finally had the family Daniel tried to make sure she would never have.

I had so much fun answering these, and this was very useful to me as a writer as well, to stir up the juices! Thank you for taking the time to do this, and no worries, I'll never leave Tumblr. I have stories to write that will last me a few years at least. And these interactions inspire me so much and bring such warmth to my heart, it is definitely my turn to thank you for being so awesome! There is much love here for you! Have a great week.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

The Holly And The Ivy

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Reader, Sigurd/Margrethe

Summary: “I had this idea where Sigurd (or any of the brothers really) were to marry a Christian, but their marriage is dry and more political than anything, but Ivar is fascinated by her attitude (being opposite of him) and her love for life and simple things. He hears the reader and who she's married to talking about how she loves Christmas and he shuts her down, but Ivar decides to let her pick out a tree from the forest and put it up in the Great Hall and decorate it any way she wants. And the ending would include a kiss under mistletoe? If you can work with it.”

I’m very sorry if I dissapoint you anon, but the story was easier or smoother for me to write as a Modern!AU. I really hope you don’t mind. I can try something in the actual time period still, if you are not happy with au’s.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, passing mentions of abusive relationships (not involving any of the relationsips in the tag btw), angst, my poor attempt at holiday fics or holiday spirit. Also, a part is not smut or explicit but getting closer to it than most of my work, so that too.

A/N: I really hope I don’t dissapoint whoever requested this. Also, I made this way more complicated than it needed to be, bc I always do, and for that I’m also sorry. Hope you like this, thank you for reading!

The title is from a Christmas carol, cause why not lol

Taglist: @1950schick @youbloodymadgenius​ (I realized you once asked to be tagged on my Vikings works and I forgot, sorry)

“When we are done with this trip we’ll go back home.” Sigurd points out one night as you both say goodnight, in some hotel somewhere in Norway.

“Home?”

“To my mother’s, in a week. Family time and all that.”

Before you are to leave for your own room, you call out, “For Christmas?”

The blond shakes his head, “Yule. You can celebrate your Christmas when we return.”

“That’ll be after the New Year!” You complain softly, offering a smile because you cannot help it.

“I will have to deal with Ivar and my mother, you can deal with this.” Sigurd sentences, the harshness startling you and prompting you to accept the words with a nod.

He mutters a goodnight again, hesitating for a moment on his bedroom door, as if questioning whether he should say sorry or not. You choose to relieve him of that choice, going into your own room and closing the door with a quiet click.

As if it were waiting for the door to close, your phone lights up on your nightstand.

How’s Oslo?

You type a quick response,

You could just ask me if we’ll be attending your mother’s celebrations, you know.

The response takes a while longer, and you cannot help the smile that pulls at your lips.

…Are you?

I expect all those lessons of yours with Floki to come to use. I’m going to need to learn about Yule, apparently.

So I’m supposed to teach you?

Who else?

Your fiancé. Is the reply you get, so fast you think he already knew what your reply was going to be before you even sent it. After a moment, before you can even think on what to answer, another message comes through. Nvm, my brother is useless. I’ll do it.

Your lips pull into a wide and stupid smile, and God, not even the shame at the quick beating of your heart or the warmth that spreads through you could make you be any less thankful for this, if anything. For him.

Thank you. Are you going to be there by Christmas?

This time the answer takes a while longer, and the indication that he is typing appears and disappears a few times.

I don’t know. Before you can ask anything, or send anything, a new message pops up. Princess, this doesn’t get any easier. I don’t know if I can.

Tears rise in your eyes because a part of you knows you’re meant to say goodbye at the end, and every time you are reminded, either by the pain in your own chest or Ivar’s words, that you are on borrowed time; you realize that end is close than you think.

Well, in that case, Merry Christmas, Ivar.

____

You find yourself being driven to that massive and fancy house by your fiancé.

You toy with your engagement ring as the car approaches the house. You know, rationally, that you have nothing to fear. The brothers have never been mean or hurtful -well, most of them haven’t-, and Aslaug has always been courteous and kind and…incredibly performative.

A part of you never ceased to feel like an outsider looking in. Between the pariah that a stupid business practice will be made into Sigurd’s wife, and the silent and soft woman they ignore as if she were another piece of furniture, you’d much rather be the latter.

“Heavy little thing, isn’t it?” Sigurd teases as he turns off the engine, motioning with his head to the rings on your left hand.

You don’t say anything in response, simply getting out of the car in silence. You know he meant well, he always does.

But a part of you that is hopeful and childish and still looks at the snow that starts to fall lightly over the ground as some miracle that means Christmas is upon us…that part of you cannot help but feel bitter about it all. Regretful, or, maybe, resentful.

You never imagined life would be this, engagement -marriage- would be this. You thought of happiness and warmth and fidelity.

Foolish hopes, really. The hopes of a child that watched her parents dance to the light of the Christmas lights, to the music of the soft music her father hummed. Nothing but foolish hopes.

So, when Sigurd steps out and hesitates in offering you his hand, you offer a smile and take his hand in yours, choosing to appreciate that at least the man you will be forced to marry is one you might call a friend, a partner, one day.

It is easy to forget, it is easy to let your heart be light and just enjoy the adorable giggles of Björn and Torvi’s children, the sympathetic smile of Margrethe, the warm and brotherly embrace of Hvitserk.

You are sipping on wine and watching Ubbe throw Asa over his head as she yells for him to throw her higher when a presence stands by your side and a wine glass clinks with your own in silent toast.

“I know you know about Sigurd and me,” Margrethe whispers, “And I want you to know I am sorry. But…I won’t leave him, not until he asks me to.”

If a year ago someone told you that you’d spent Christmas Eve being told by your fiancé’s mistress that she refuses to stop seeing him, you would have assumed the world turned on its head.

It did, but…you still find it in you to love this world that hurts you, this life that tests you.

You offer a smile, “I know you love him. It started as…”

“Gold-digging?” The blonde supplies, a sheepish grimace on her face.

“I wouldn’t be as unkind as to-…”

“You should. That’s what it was,” Her smile loses the edge, and she falters, “At first.”

You accept her words with a nod, and another sip of your wine.

“Then as long as you are discreet, I don’t mind. Keep him happy, Margrethe, he deserves it.”

You start to walk away when she stops you with a call of your name.

“And you don’t? Deserve to be happy, I mean.”

You hesitate, faltering for a few seconds too long. Her blue eyes are big and uncharacteristically honest as they look at you.

“I…”

You take your gaze off hers, because it feels like she will know something she shouldn’t, something you don’t want her to; but your eyes betray you, it seems.

“Oh, him. Well-kept secret, that one,” She states, and when you open your mouth to argue, Margrethe shakes her head, “It’s okay, I don’t…I don’t blame you. Even if I don’t understand at all how that came to be.”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?” The blonde supplies, and you allow yourself a smile, you loosen your shoulders and close your eyes with a deep breath.

“Ivar, he…understands me.”

“But you two are nothing alike,” She states, and at your shrug, concedes, “Maybe that’s why.”

“Maybe,” You offer, and after a breath, because bitter regret at being the thing that keeps her from the man she loves chokes you for a moment, “Margrethe, I…”

“Don’t you even think of apologizing to me,” She laughs, “Gods, woman, you truly are a soft thing, aren’t you?”

“I have the privilege of being it.” You offer with a kind smile, because you’ve seen the scars, because you remember her when she was more fragile.

Margrethe shakes her head, “The burden.” She corrects, and with a soft squeeze of her free hand on your arm, she walks away.

____

It’s on the day before Christmas that the last of the Lothbrok arrives. You walk down the stairs to a very early breakfast, and jump when the front door opens to reveal Ubbe and Ivar.

He came.

“You are up early.” Ubbe comments as he passes you by, dropping a kiss on your cheek.

You greet Ubbe absently, your eyes on his brother. Numbly, you hear him say something about telling Aslaug that Ivar has come home, and quick steps carrying him up the stairs.

Your lips curve into a smile, or at least they try to, “Hi.”

“Hello, Princess,” Ivar greets, what months ago would have been a smirk curving his lips. Now, now it’s more tired and worn than anything. “Just in time for your…Christmas, right?”

You nod, feeling the stupid urge to cry, “Yeah. Means a lot, you know.”

“Well, I could feel you pouting over the phone, love,” His eyes check the stairs before he moves aided by his crutch towards you with a wince of pain -the cold, you remind yourself, the cold making his legs ache-, and once he is before you, a hand that shouldn’t feel as tender as it does cups your cheek and brings your mouth to his. “I couldn’t leave you alone here. You always find ways to embarrass yourself.”

You chuckle, burrowing your head on his chest as you embrace him.

“I may have fucked up a few times,” You concede, eyes closed as you take in his scent, his warmth, “But I’m cute, I get away with a lot of things.”

____

As the timer on your phone dings, you get up from the couch, leaving a warm but strong drink behind, and make your way to the kitchen, ready to take out the sponge cake -no, a voice too alike Ivar corrects you, Bûche de Noël-.

Uneven steps behind you let you know of who walked in behind you, and you turn around with a slight frown on your brows, meaning to ask something before he interrupts you.

“He’s groping and kissing her in front of you, and you say nothing?” Ivar demands, anger shining clearly in his blue eyes.

“Sigurd and Margrethe?” You ask, and shake your head, “Why would I say anything?”

“You know about them.”

“Of course I do. He doesn’t hide it from me, and he shouldn’t hide it from his family. He loves her, and she loves him.”

“You don’t care that he’s humiliating you?” He presses, and you sigh.

“Everyone here knows how things truly are between Sigurd and me.”

Ivar’s mouth curls into a snarl, and cruelty spews from his lips, “Well, if you had let Ragnar know you had no problem letting your husband fuck whoever he wants, you might have been able to marry Björn, like your father wanted.”

You close your eyes, “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, hm? Like someone that’s watching the woman he-…What am I supposed to be then, hm? What would make you happy?” He accuses, not losing the cruel edge in his voice even if you both know what he stopped himself from admitting. When you don’t answer, Ivar takes a deep and angry breath through his nose, “I’ve always been jealous of my brothers, you know this. Growing up their poor crippled brother is nothing to knowing Sigurd gets you and doesn’t even know what he-…what I’d do to be him.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Make him be the man you deserve!”

“He’s not the man I want,” You point out before you can keep the words trapped behind your lips. Ivar is inexplicably stunned by your words, it seems, and you lower your gaze. Resting your hands on the counter you drop your shoulders and shake your head, letting go of the previous argument and returning to…peace, or as close to it as one can get with Ivar. “Your brother deserves to be as happy as he can, with the woman he loves. It will not hurt me to see him with her. As long as-…”

“‘As long as it is discreet’, yes, I know. My mother and Ragnar have the same agreement.”

“It works for them, does it not?”

Ivar meets your gaze and doesn’t answer for a few moments, long enough that dread sets in your chest and questions arise in your mind.

Eventually, on the side of his jaw the clear tell of gritted teeth, he replies,

“Not as well as you think.”

“Well, Sigurd and I are friends, we…things will work out. They have to.”

“They have to, of course,” He mocks, moving his head as he rolls his eyes, “Anything to keep Ragnar and your father happy, hm?”

“Ivar…”

His eyes search yours, searching for the answer to a question he has not yet asked,

“I-If I asked you not to do this, if I…if I asked you for more time…” He leaves the words hanging between you, and you blink past helpless tears. He knows the answer, you know the answer.

Thankfully, you don’t have to remind him -and yourself- of the world you live in, of the lives you were meant to live, because the door to the kitchen opens and Aslaug walks through.

You keep your eyes firmly set on the tray before you, even though you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, demanding an answer. When he realizes he will not get one, he grunts, a clenched fist hitting the counter once before he walks away.

“I’m sorry.” You offer the matriarch as she keeps her all-seeing eyes on you, but Aslaug offers a smile. A fake one, but a smile nonetheless.

“The cold gets to Ivar, it makes him irritable. It is not your fault.” She soothes, but the smile you offer her in thanks still trembles. You both know these are lies you are sharing with one another, and though it makes you falter and stumble, Aslaug moves gracefully from one lie to the next.

“I’ll-…” You point behind you, to the living room, but the woman shakes her head.

“Surely you have time to help me with this?” She asks. It feels like walking into a wolf’s den when you nod your head and approach her.

“Of course.”

She watches raptly as you assist her in preparing the Yule Log, and you focus on doing your best to keep your hands from trembling.

“For someone that doesn’t follow the Gods, you know a lot about tradition, girl.”

“I…It was the least I could do, learning about what is important to your family, to Sigurd.” You offer, and whatever she -who always has the look of someone that sees beyond what normal eyes can- can sense in your words makes Aslaug stop.

She turns to you, and surprises you with a hand on your cheek. The woman towards over you, but the gentleness in her touch, the warmth in her eyes, they help you to not feel threatened.

“Still loving the world that hurts you, sweet thing?”

“It’s all I know how to do.”

Aslaug’s smile is almost sad when she looks into your eyes, “To love, yes, I know. Wish I saw that sooner,” You don’t know what to answer to that, so you offer her only a shaky smile and a shrug. Aslaug chuckles gently, “And you love my son, don’t you?”

The terrifying thought that she knows what she’s doing when not saying any names, the realization nothing gets past her and neither did whatever is between you and Ivar, it all settles in your stomach with a dead weight.

Still, whether she asks about Sigurd or Ivar, the answer is the same.

“Yes.”

One as a friend, a partner, a man you can learn to respect and build a life alongside of. The other, as everything you ever wanted, as someone that will always make you wonder about the ‘what if’s.

She shakes off whatever takes a hold of her, and before you can ask what she means, why it pains her, she steps back from you and turns her back to you.

“You know, Ragnar isn’t the only one in this family with an eye for business. I was once in the same position you are now, the heiress to an empire,” Aslaug’s smile seems to thaw as she hands you a refilled glass of wine to match hers. Resting her backside on the counter behind her, she continues, “My parents were able to teach me a few valuable lessons before their death.

She grabs your left hand, stopping you. Her eyes look deeply into yours, but her thumb rolls your engagement ring on your finger.

“Like how to understand when I can’t make any more moves. And when I can change the wording in a deal to make it favor me.

Your lips part, you think to say something, but Aslaug stops you with a smile.

“Let’s hope you’ve learned the same lessons, my dear.”

____

Ubbe is dancing with Asa standing on his feet, and you watch with a smile on your face as the family enjoys time together, and celebrates the holidays in their own way.

A part of you misses the Christmas lights, the decorations you’d help your parents put up when you were a kid. A part of you misses how simple life was back then, how in this time of year you could forget there was a world past the snow drifting down and the warmth of a hearth and a home.

Ivar comes right up to you, but doesn’t sit next to you, choosing to remain standing.

“Grab your coat,” He orders, and at your confused frown, he rolls his eyes and amends, “Please.”

The most insincere please in the history of pleases, but you know you get more than most, so you don’t comment on it.

Still, you have to ask, “Why?”

“I-…a surprise,” He says, and insists you move with a gesture of his head, “Come on.”

You follow him to the small house the Lothbroks have by the pool, a cozy little home of big windows. When Ivar motions for you to go in ahead of him, a part of you is suspicious, but you still skip your way inside and try not to ask questions as to how it is so warm here when it should be vacant.

Ivar turns the lights on, and you find in the middle of the living room a Christmas tree.

The tree is bare, but still lively and familiar.

You turn to Ivar with tears in your eyes, because you cannot help it.

“You did this for me?”

“You love your Christmas,” He mumbles, embarrassed at the reaction his -to some, uncharacteristic- thoughtfulness got out of you. “I figured you deserved to have some of it with you here.”

“Did you buy Christmas lights?” You ask softly, almost moving up and down in the balls of your feet in excitement, eyeing the bags on a chair nearby.

Ivar chuckles, endeared, and nods, “Go ahead, Princess.”

You skip your way to the bags, quickly looking over the goods and already planning on how to decorate it, how to make it look pretty, how to make it yours.

You don’t truly know how long you spend on it, gleefully putting up Christmas lights, and little ornaments. During the whole time you spent excitedly decorating the tree, you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, and when you look back at him you find him staring with a strange softness in his gaze.

You choose not to think too much on it, and instead ask his opinion on the decorations, that he gives gruffly and with a very poor attempt at making you believe that -either because Christmas grew on him, which you find very unlikely, or because of your own happiness- he isn’t happy to be here.

____

You smile at the warm and twinkling lights, and burrow closer to Ivar’s warmth, refusing to take your eyes off the dancing lights and refusing to put your feet back on the ground.

Refusing to step out of the fantasy that this could be your life.

Ivar shifts his position, and you lift your head from the juncture between his neck and shoulder and meet his eyes in question.

His eyes give away so much, always have, at least to you. And now they reflect the warm sparkle of the Christmas lights, and they reflect hesitation, fear, uncertainty, love.

Before you can ask what is wrong, Ivar leans in, his hand previously around you tangling in your hair as his lips claim yours.

His kiss is always demanding, but this time it holds desperation in the way Ivar begs for your lips to part with his own, it holds an urgency in the way his tongue dances with yours, it holds a ragged edge in the shaky breath that he lets out through his nose, it holds a goodbye in the way he ends the kiss as if forcing himself to pull away from you.

You try getting your breath under control and your voice to be yours again, but he’s so close, and warm, and yours; and all you want to do is kiss him again.

Kiss him again, and make the furrow in his brow, the pain in his eyes, go away. Kiss him again, and pretend you are not living on borrowed time.

So you do.

You kiss him, and take control of the kiss, and make him groan lightly against your mouth when you tug on his hair, and whimper his name against his own when you straddle him and feel him getting hard underneath you.

When your need for breath makes you part from his kiss, Ivar wastes no time trailing fervent kisses down your neck, panting breaths against the hot skin that he kisses and licks and bites.

You moan his name, forgetting everything but the touch of his lips on your skin, forgetting everything but the scent and taste and feel of him.

Either at the sound of your voice or the grind of your hips against his hardening cock, Ivar’s breath stutters and he breathes your name back at you, voice low.

His brow rests against your collarbone as he takes deep breaths, and your fingers toy at the hair that flows down to his shoulders.

“You know…” He murmurs, pressing a kiss that makes you shiver right on the dip between your collarbones, “There’s nothing I want more right now than marking this pretty neck of yours. Leaving you with…” His teeth scrape against your skin, a tease both for you and himself. Ivar does it a few more times, and moves up your neck again. Your breath shudders past your lips, and you tug on his hair to remind him of what he was saying. You always did love hearing him speak. For all the months you spend apart, his voice telling you what he’d do to you, what he’d have you do to him, is all that keeps you warm. Ivar chuckles, but continues, “Leaving you with my mark all over you, where everyone can see, so…so that they don’t doubt you’re mine.

His hands tighten on your waist, before they travel down, caressing your thighs as he sighs.

“But you’re not, are you? And I can’t…I can’t do any of that. I can’t-…”

You interrupt him before his thoughts can get ahead of him, before he can twist himself into knots about the situation you are both in.

“I am yours. Only yours.” You remind him softly, your lips by his ear. You lean back so you can meet his eyes, and seal your promise with a soft kiss over his lips.

Ivar’s eyes search yours when you pull back, with the same look as before. Uncertain, lost, tender and yet almost sad.

“Marry me.” He whispers, keeping his eyes on yours.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide. He couldn’t have…he knows that…none of this makes any sense.

“Marry me instead of Sigurd,” He insists, and as if remembering the part he forgot, he curses and hurries to fetch something from his pocket. He offers you a simple but beautiful ring, and swallows, “I-I can make you happier than he ever could, I…I love you.

I know you can, you already do.

I love you too.

But you can’t say any of that, because your breaths are shallow and your head is filled with thoughts and…and you need space.

You scramble to stand, to put distance between the two of you. After a few controlled breaths, you return your eyes to Ivar, whose hand has now fallen back to his lap even if he still holds on to the delicate ring.

He grits his teeth, the obvious tell at the side of his jaw, and he seems to want to divert his eyes from you, but he only blinks and keeps certain eyes on you.

“Your father wants you to marry one of Ragnar’s sons, he doesn’t care who. I…have talked with my father, he agrees that if you want to, we can…” He licks his lips in a nervous gesture, “Mother says any backlash from breaking the engagement can be handled.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“Of course I have, y-you’d be Sigurd’s wife if I didn’t think of something,” A twitch of anger, of uncertainty, of fear, on his face, and then he amends, “You still can be. But I want you to be able to choose.”

Choose me, is what he doesn’t say.

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and you try a few times before you can finally speak,

“Ivar, we haven’t…it’s been only a few months.”

“And it will not work out, that’s what you’re saying?” He huffs, defensive, “It won’t work out if you marry my brother either.”

“I-…this-…”

“Stop thinking of excuses,” He snaps, gritted teeth and hurt written in his eyes, “I’ll handle everything, no matter your answer. Just…just give me an answer, Princess.”

____

It is open ended cause there’s two ends to this, I wanted to leave the choice to you guys! So, follow the link for the epilogue of your choice:

Will you accept the proposal and be bound to Ivar, for better or worse?

Or will you stay with Sigurd, and be content with companionship and friendship?

Hope you liked this, even if it wasn’t very holiday-ey. I wish you all very happy holidays and a great (or decent, after 2020 I’m happy with decent) 2021!!

(Ik it’s like the 13th and I’m gonna be very much around here posting and bothering the whole lot of ya till the holidays and beyond, but holiday fic and all that, ‘twas the perfect time to send good wishes and all. Love ya!)

[hscherryblossom]

We’ll be alright

Summary: Y/n is feeling the worst she ever has but she is comforted by Harry and is reminded that she will be alright.

Pairing: HARRY x READER

Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety and mental breakdowns.

a/n: hi guys!! so this is my first fic i’ve ever written. this idea came to me because i felt really sad and i thought to write about how i felt. i like how it turned out so i really hope you do! feedback is appreciated!! if you like it, please like or reblog :) btw, italic means a tb.

You had been feeling this way for a long time now. You felt like your whole world was crashing down, you felt hopeless like no one wanted you anymore and they could be better off without you... you were scared, scared of being alone for the rest of your life, scared of your feelings and all your thoughts becoming a reality, but especially scared of losing the only person that made your days better, the only one who could put a smile on your face without a doubt and that could give you that warm that you have been craving your whole life but you didn’t realize until the moment you met him, you found that missing puzzle piece and he didn’t even know it was him.

You had that bad habit of pushing people away when you felt like this, you have never meant to do it or to hurt someone, but you always realized after that bad episode that you did and you felt even worse. It was a reality you have dealt with since you were only 13 years old. Your parents and your whole family thought those were your best years and you were enjoying every single moment, however deep inside of you was this horrible feeling that made your stomach into knots and made you wanna throw up. There were times you looked yourself in your mirror and wanted to desperately start crying, you reached moments when you started asking the universe to gave you the strength so you could survive one more day or just simply end it all.

No one knew about your breakdowns, not even your family because you didn’t want to worry them or that they felt pity towards you so you just simply acted like everything was ok. Your parents think you’re an angel fallen from heaven, a miracle even and everyone else just thinks you're a sweet girl, really funny and with a golden heart, though you’ve never felt this way.

There comes a time when you need to talk to someone, you can’t hold it anymore and you breakdown in front of that person... in your case that person was Harry. He is your angel on earth, he gives you hope and makes you feel the most special and loved person in the whole world, hell the universe even. He has seen you in your worst and he is still there by your side, or at least that’s what you thought until a sadness wave came crashing down on you.

You were having a break from work, lately it had been a nightmare.

“Are you okay?” You heard a voice from behind you, the same voice that made your heart automatically race and your whole body shake.

“I'm fine, just a little tired. I didn’t have time to finish some work so i brought it home” you sighed, already feeling overwhelmed with everything and wanting to run away.

“Darling, this is getting out of hand.... I never have time to see you anymore, you’re always bringing work and you don’t sleep well, you should take a break, it’s not ok to stress yourself like this” he says in a soft tone that makes you close your eyes to stop yourself from breaking down.

“Harry, i’m ok. This is life and you have to work hard to get what you want, i’m not a kid anymore i can handle it” you say with every little bit of strength you have.

You hear silence before you feel a hand on your left shoulder, he turns the chair around from the desk you were currently in at your office at home so you’re now facing him.

You stare at those green eyes that make you insane and you feel he disarms you with just one look.

“Y/n, baby, i know you well enough to know you’re overwhelmed, you need to take a break, your mental health is more important than anything else” he says to you. He always knows exactly what to say.

You sigh and tears start forming in your eyes. His face softens when he sees your bloodshot eyes and he pulls you into his chest and that’s when you fully start crying.

“Why are you always right?” you chuckle, to what he does too.

“Because i know you too well. Now why don’t you go and take a bath while i make dinner and call your boss to tell him you’re gonna have a break?” he whispers in your ear.

You pull away and look him in the eyes while nodding.

You both stand up and before leaving, you say “I love you”

To which he replies “I love you more than anything in this world, angel”

It’s been three days since that conversation, everything was fine with you two... but the next day you woke up in the middle of the night and felt the worse you have ever felt. You grabbed a backpack, filled it with some clothes and stuff you will need and left the house without nowhere to go. You just needed to be alone.

You stayed in a hotel a few blocks from your house with Harry, your phone had been blowing up the last few days with phone calls and messages of people you cared about, including family members and close friends. However, most of the notifications seemed to be from him.

You didn’t know what to do, so you called your best friend, Andrea. She was the only person apart from Harry who knew about your breakdowns so she came as fast as she could to your location. You told her how overwhelmed you felt, all of your fears and you felt some ease afterwards. She kept reminding you that you’re strong, smart and so beautiful. That no one could ever hate you because you were really sweet, she also said that if anyone ever hated you she would punch them and tell them how they would die, to that you laughed like you haven’t in weeks. She didn’t leave behind the fact that you should call Harry.

“That boy is lost for you, he called me many times asking me if i knew anything about where you were, he’s losing it. You should call him, love. Tell him you’re okay and you should probably go back home and talk to him. Never invalidate your feelings, ok?” you nodded, feeling a whole lot better but really nervous of having to face him.

The next day you woke up and did what Andrea told you. You got ready and left the hotel.

On your way home you couldn’t help but think of all the scenarios, yet you decided to stop yourself and think about the sweet guy that loves you more than anything and would never leave you knowing the state you’re currently in.

When you arrived, you parked the car in the driveway and went straight to open the door but someone bet you to it. You saw the love of your life. He looked tired, his eyes were bloodshot from all the crying and he looked relief for a second of seeing you in the doorway. He didn’t lose time on pulling you to his chest and giving you an embrace, just what i needed, you thought.

After a few minutes, he pulls apart and starts asking you if you’re okay, the place you where at, why you didn’t answer your phone and why’d you left in the middle of the night.

You stare at him before leading him inside the house and straight to the couch you have spent hours cuddling in since you first moved in.

After sitting down, you can’t bare to look at him so you stare at the coffee table and notice all the papers scattered everywhere and the book you had with the phone numbers of everyone you knew. You can’t help but feel your throat closing and try to speak but can’t. You close your eyes for a second and take a deep breath.

Harry gets worried and puts an arm around your shoulders and brings you to him, peppering kisses in your cheek.

“I'm so sorry, Harry.” you say while tears start slipping from your eyes.

“I'm sorry for being the worst girlfriend, I- I- I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn’t help it, i felt the worst i ever have and ran away. I know it was a stupid move but i couldn’t help it.” you sobbed.

“Hey hey, i know you’ve felt this way for so long, love. I took some time to think about it and i understand. You’re so strong and you don’t give yourself credit for it. Y/n, you’re amazing and you should never feel bad for feeling the way you do, it’s ok. Although, it’s not good for you to bottle all your emotions and never talk them through with someone. I’m right here whenever you need me, I’ll always be here.”

You don’t think through the question that leaves your mouth “You’re not mad?”

He sighs and answers “Of course not, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I couldn’t get mad at you because you had a breakdown”

A small smile forms in your lips and you look up at him “I should talk with someone” you whisper.

“If you feel the need to, go for it” he says in a hushed tone.

“Thank you for never leaving my side even at my worse” you say.

“I could never baby. I love you too much to do that. You’re fine here with me, y/n. You can cry, laugh and do anything here with me because at the end of the day we will be alright.”

[alliterative-albatross]

So, I sent you (@disgruntledspacedad) a pretty long ask a while ago (back when you had anon on) and I'm decently sure Tumblr ate it (or maybe you ignored it, in which case, feel free to ignore this one as well). But then I saw one of those "writers appreciate feedback no matter how long" posts, so I'm back here. Here is my mediocre attempt to rewrite my original review of your work. Bear in mind that English is not my first language, so if at any point my phrasing sounds weird to you, you know why. Mandatory disclaimer/apology: this might get a little too long 😅

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

I remember being SO mad at myself for not finding this sooner. I binge read it one afternoon with no thoughts for any real life responsibilities I might have had (and no regrets). Javiears is one hell of an unconventional relationship in the beginning, and I really love what you did with them. The whole premise of your story is quite refreshing, and you somehow manage to convey the trust and mutual respect there two feel for one another without explicitly showing us the beginning of their "entanglement".

Also, fuck you for what you did to poor Emilio, that man was a saint and he deserved better! I honestly can't believe that I got so attached to a character that appeared so little in the story, but it happened, and his death kind of broke my heart.

But the Javiears reunion + mild confession was lovely, and felt completely deserved. And of course the sex scene. I won't lie, I expected a bit better from Javi there, but I did like how utterly /human/ it was. Capturing that humanity, the imperfections in each character is something you're really good at (more on that later).

AFTERSHOCKS

Ah, my emotionally constipated babies who really need to work out their communication issues. I do love them, though. And this short series did a really good job of delving a bit deeper into Ears's and Javi's psyche. Kudos to you for dealing with the medical "aftershocks" of living through an explosion AND using that experience to move your emotional plot forward. These two need to grow a lot before they can get to a stable point in their relationship, and you really manage to convey their insecurity and fear of commitment/intimacy while making it clear that they're in it for the long run and that theirs is a relationship that WILL work out so help them God.

IF I FALL

Ouch. Punch me in the gut while you're at it, why don't you?

But seriously, "If I Fall" is SO FUCKING GOOD. Don't get me wrong, it's angstier than an image of Jesus on the cross (don't judge me, it's Holy Week and I just got home from accompanying my grandma to church), but it somehow works beautifully. You, my dear, play heartstrings like they're a fucking guitar and I AM HERE FOR IT.

You're doing an amazing job at making me feel everything these characters are feeling, which is both awful (bc pain) and impressive.

Also, if anything happens to Ana I will cry, because she is adorable and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also, if anything happens to Ears I will cry, because she is badass and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also also, if anything happens to Javi I will cry, because he is loving and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Basically, I am really invested in the well-being of these characters and can't wait until they're happy and safe again (please tell me they will be, my heart can't handle much more pain).

A quick note on the angst complaints: yes, this story is way angstier than most other fics out there and it can be a bit too much at times, especially considering how many chapters of pain it's been. BUT it's obvious that "If I Fall" NEEDS this amount of angst to get where it's going, to send the message it wants to and to properly develop its characters. The pain is as important to this story as flour is to bread. You may not like eating flour on its own (I don't think anyone does), but you love bread (because bread is amazing) and you must recognize that bread NEEDS flour to work. It wouldn't be bread otherwise. And eating the flour as part of the bread even makes you like the flour because the bread is just DELICIOUS.

I fully understand and sympathize with the people who have elected to table "If I Fall" until it's completed so they can binge read it knowing there's a happy ending in sight, but in case you're feeling a bit self conscious about all the angst, please know that your story is beautiful not in spite of the pain, but rather /because of it/.

PS: No, I'm not high/drunk, I just really like bread

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Silly thing to comment on, I know, but I do feel like it's important that you know how useful your ANs have been. There are many details in the story that I simply wouldn't fully get without reading your comments at the end of each chapter, and I appreciate your writing a hell of a lot more knowing how deeply you understand and care for each one of your characters. Plus, it is obvious how much work you've put into researching a country and a time period that are (from what I gather) unfamiliar to you, and I really do believe you've done an amazing job of it.

JAVIER PEÑA

My boy. I love your characterization of this complicated character, and I have eagerly read each and every one of your headcanons about him. I can't really say if your version is fully faithful to the source material because it's been a while since I saw Narcos, but your Javi most definitely reads like a real person. He's fairly consistent as a character, and I feel like everything he does is perfectly natural for him to do as a character. He makes for an unconventional yet deeply interesting romantic lead, and so far I have thoroughly enjoyed all his POV chapters/scenes.

OCs

I know you've gotten some flack for making her into an OC halfway into the story, and while I get why the sudden change may have felt like a disappointment for some, I don't share that sentiment. I firmly believe that this fandom is unfairly harsh towards Original Characters and their creators, and I don't really understand why. Listen, I love Reader fics, and consume many Reader fics. I have read dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I can safely say that I've only ever "inserted" myself in approximately 10% of those stories. Reader characters are not as blank as their writers may want them to be. They can't be. They're characters, and character have personalities and moral values and senses of humor and a bunch of other things. Reader characters may not have a backstory or a physical description attached (and even that's not guaranteed), but they're still characters.

And on a more personal note, pretending they're actual blank slates is naive at best and insensitive at worst. Reader characters are American coded 99% of the time, and white coded 95% of the time. Not every readers is white nor American, even if that's the predominant demographic on Tumblr. When I read a JavixReader fic about a woman who speaks exactly zero Spanish, I know she's not me. The story may be beautifully written and have an amazing plot and character development, but the Reader *isn't me*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and some of my favorite xReader stories feature a "reader" who couldn't be more different from me, but it's something that enemies of OC fics should take into account. Particularly if they are white and/or American. But I digress.

HANNAH AARONS

Your character is amazing. She's strong, smart, confident, independent and an all-around badass. She gets kidnapped while pregnant and still focuses on problem solving and survival. But she's also overly guarded and mistrustful, and really needs to work on her communication skills. There are times when I absolutely love her and even admire her, and other times when I want to whack her with a slipper. She's no Mary Sue, but remains interesting and likeable throughout the story. She feels wholly human and real, and that's no easy task. I like her, I am invested in her, and I can't wait to see what's next for her. She's a compelling and three dimensional protagonist in a complex story who never fails to draw me in. I love her. She's your baby, and you should be proud of her.

Also, quick question about personality types: I know you've typed Javi as ESFP and Ears as ENTP (100% agree on both, btw), but have you given any thought to their enneagram types? I personally have always seen Ears as being somewhere on the thinking triad, maybe a 7 or even a 6w7, but I'm not too sure about Javi. 9w8 maybe? He could also be a 6w5 🤔

PARTING THOUGHTS

Basically, I love your story, your characters and your writing in general. You are a fantastic storyteller and wordsmith. You get into the heads of incredibly different characters personality-wise (Ears, Javi, Berna...) and manage to capture all of their complexities and quirks every single time. And it doesn't feel like it's something innate for you either. To me, it seems that you have put a lot of work and effort into understanding each and every one of your characters, who they are, why they do what they do and what they want. And let me tell you, all that effort has been more than worth it. "Better Love" is a fanfic, but it wouldn't be out of place in a regular bookstore, if I'm honest. I don't know what you do for a living or if you've ever considered writing professionally, but you clearly have the skills and the drive to create some masterpieces.

You are amazing and your writing is a gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and have a nice day! ~ 🍪

~

My friend, I apologize for hoarding your first ask. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy going back and rereading it. It gave me a lot of comfort when I was in a pretty dark place, both personally and in regards to my writing, and I was reluctant to send it out into the the abyss of Tumblr where I might never see it again. 

That’s not fair, though. You put just as much effort into sending me that review as I put into my writing, and I apologize for never responding to you.

Okay, anyway, so twice now, you’ve made me cry. In a good way, I promise! 

I absolutely love your bread/flour metaphor. It made perfect sense. I want the emotional release of Javi and Hannah’s reunion to be earned, and in order to do that, the angst has to come first (there are also a few plot “ingredients” that have yet to make their appearances). Thank you very much for understanding that, and for voicing it so eloquently.

I appreciate your comments on my research and characterization. You’re correct that I’ve put a lot of time and effort into crafting a universe. In a lot of ways, I’m doing my best to stay true to the source material (regarding culture and timelines in particular), and in others, I’m branching into my own territory. 

On that note, I’ve never once regretted fully embracing Hannah Aarons’ identity as an OC. She’s stayed consistent in my mind from the beginning, and it was a relief to finally share my vision of her with the audience. And for the record, I totally agree with you regarding “reader” characters. Every reader insert echoes the perspective of their author, no matter how vague the physical description. I can only imagine how grating that must be from the perspective of a non-white, non-american reader. Thank you so much for sharing your insight! I will certainly keep it in mind the next time I write a “reader insert” fic.

Okay, enneagrams! I am much less familiar with enneagram than I am MBTI, but I agree 110% that Javi is a 9 with a strong 8 wing. I waffled back and forth on Ears a little, but eventually landed on 8w7 for her. It came down to the eight’s deepest fear, which is being controlled. That’s Ears all over, and the fact that she and Javi share that eight willfulness means that they might butt heads a little, which also seems very appropriate for them. Big thanks to @remusstark for her insight into the eight frame of mind - our conversations helped solidify my decision on this. :)

Anyway, I’m just rambling now. The big take-away point that I want you to get is that I am so, so grateful to you, both for your insightful feedback and your dedication in making sure that I actually saw it. You are an absolute gem and a deep thinker, Cookie-Anon, and if you ever feel like sliding into my DM’s, I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.

Mad love and soft hugs, 

~ Jay