#I’ve never met anyone irl who this would apply to

[adjectivenounnumber]

Not a fan of this take tbh. Life is short and consuming popular media for fun is a small part of what people do, you can’t really determine that someone is only ever in engaging w/ fandom content just bc they have a social media profile that they only use to engage w/ fandom content.

Prioritizing media which has deep and compelling characters and prioritizing media w/ a large online fan community to interact with both seem like valid ways of deciding what to watch/read/listen to imo. I also feel like what media gets labeled as too frivolous has more to do w/ cultural/social biases than w/ genuine quality. So “you watch too much media w/ ships” feels like a similarly reactionary criticism as “you read too much romance” was back when women like the Brontë sisters and Austen were writing truly great romance which wouldn’t be recognized as valid/serious art until later.

Given that media w/ fandoms isn’t inherently lesser than media w/o them, and that for-fun free-time media consumption as expressed through a blog is only a tiny facet of a person, I think the concern that people are incomplete/deficient due to fandomification/shipping is unfounded and somewhat reactionary.

fandomification and shipping is fucking up how some of yall consume media and i mean it

[phoenixtakaramono]

Fanfiction Tropes Tier List (Reader Edition)

Thank you for the tag, @deliciouskeys! (Here's their tier list!)

I tag: @fuckingpajamas, @phtalate, @tzeentchs-secretary-tea-time, @digitalbath1988, @vanshoundd, @tocadoguara, and anyone who wants to do this! I’d be very interested to see how y’all would rank ‘em :) but ofc no pressure if you don’t want to or have already done this!

…So I feel like I need to give some context🧍🏻‍♀️🙈 The tl;dr is: I will read almost anything, but I have certain standards/ expectations that must be met in order for me to continue.

I tried to organize these tropes from top ➡️ bottom, have strong feelings about (would more likely read) ➡️ am less passionate about going from left ➡️ right. For the bottom tiers with asterisks, I arranged them from “this specific trope represents the tier description” ➡️ “eh, it fits here but I don’t really hold strong opinions about these” from left ➡️ right.

⬇️Expand for a detailed breakdown below the line break ⬇️

My Tier List for fanfic tropes I consume as a Reader differ in some areas from tropes I’d like to write or would be open to writing as a Writer. As a reader, I usually give almost every fanfic a chance with my own arbitary criteria—although what I read is very ship dependent according to their canon dynamic (for example, I will devour Enemies to Lovers for one specific OTP in one fandom, but would NEVER read that trope applied to a different fav ship of mine in a different fandom). I also tossed in some danmei BL tropes, for funsies and because I want more people to know about them <3.

And remember, if you like any of these that I personally don’t, that’s great! Everyone has their own preferences. Please don’t take offense. These are just how I view these tropes specifically according to me, haha. It says less about you and more about me being picky with what I like to read and gives context about what kind of bibliophile (person who likes reading) I am.

Tier 1 (SSS Level)

Slowburn: Just as context, I regularly read light novels (hetero, danmei, and baihe) which can easily range from 100ch-300ch each. So slowburns is the quintessential demisexual experience for me, and I love it when they’re long fics where we get to see characters grow and relationships develop, with worldbuilding and an interesting plot. I think the longest I’ve ever read was +2.8K chapters of a story I was addicted to. Typically if I see it’s a slowburn, I know I’m gonna have a good time.

Fix-It Fic: As much as I love canon of the original source material, there are certain canon story decisions and/or plotholes that hurt me—so it’s always great to see someone write their own interpretation to try to “fix it.” You get banger fics and it’s just so creative and a nice catharsis.

Canon Divergence: Same as how I regard a Fix-It.

Dark Fic: Irl I obviously do not condone any of the things that typically happen in Dark Fics. But as someone who has consumed your usual wholesome healthy Lifetime Original style romance stories for a loooooong time, that type of milquetoast wholesomeness has become bland and predictable for me—which is why the wild and crazy shenanigans that happen in Dark Fics spices things up for me and I like that it keeps me guessing. I don’t want to read about things from my life. I think screwed up characters can offer so much more interesting stakes than a Good Guy. I like the tension and uncertainty. Ex. this is why I tend to prefer the protag/villain ships over the protag/childhood friend ships; it’s why a princely character who is secretly yandere is so much more interesting than a sidekick character with a bland and forgettable personality. The writers of Dark Fics, 9/10 times, produce something so interesting that I can’t put my phone down and I just have to binge through their entire fic because the suspense is k*lling me.

Conspiracy & Schemes: Mysteries? Political intrigue? Palace drama? Yes, please, inject it into my veins.

Strong Protagonist & Strong Love Interest: It’s similar to how I’ve come to prefer reading Dark Fics. The market’s too oversaturated with the damsel in distress trope being saved by his/her prince charming. I’ve read too many novels and fanfics about that dynamic, it’s gotten a little stale for me, haha. Give me the clever, scheming, morally grey or villainous MC with a strong backbone. I like badasses. As for the ML or FL, I also prefer them to be strong or scheming as well so they can be a power couple with the MC—and curb-stomp the world and their enemies. ���*holds face like a blushing maiden* Don’t they sound like the equivalent of a fairytale couple?

Mutual Pining: Yes, yes, yes. It’ll never be not good.

Revenge-Rebirth: I love underdog characters plotting their secret machinations and getting their revenge. Pair it with a rebirth, where a previous villain(ess) or cannon fodder who’d suffered before learns from the mistakes of their previous life and uses their second life to faceslap their enemies and turn their destiny around? Yes, yes, yes.

Survival Game: I love the Infinite Flow (survival horror/ death game) genre, what can I say? If you’ve read the famous ones, you know why. The writing is almost always superb and so interesting (seeing all the unique horror instances that the MC has to figure out in order to survive). It’s just so imaginative.

Obsessive Love: Same as how I regard a Dark Fic. I do not condone it irl, but an unhealthily codependent partner in my fictional romances? Yes. I want them to be even more obsessed with my favorite character and fall deeper and deeper in love.

Misunderstanding: There is a difference between how I view misunderstandings versus how I view miscommunication (which can grate on my nerves if not executed well). I believe you fundamentally cannot have a good long fic without some misunderstandings that the MC or Love Interest has to clear up, and it’s always so good once the cat is out of the bag and the truth is revealed.

Isekai/ Transmigration (World-Hopping): Yes. Gimme. It’s like 10 stories in one. I like it when your ordinary layperson gets transported into a different fantastical world or pseudohistorical world or into a different modern world of much different circumstances depending on their new identity. I like these duck out of water stories.

Historical AU & Royalty AU: There’s just something about pseudo-medieval settings that can be so charming and interesting to read. If you’ve got royalty thrown in, there’s the additional seasoning of power struggles between members of royalty and aristocracy, and political intrigue, and seeing how a kingdom is run. Writers tend to do a good job worldbuilding these types of stories with characters I like moved into this new setting.

Established Relationship: The domesticity and PDA of it all can make my heart go dokidoki (especially if they’re a powerhouse couple). It can fall into the danger of coming across as bland, so this depends on the plot and writer’s execution of their relationship. I gotta have some stakes.

Enemies to Lovers: I love it for certain pairings.

Forbidden Love: It’s the tabooness of it that makes it interesting to read.

Friends to Lovers: As long as it’s not milquetoast or bland, I think most of the time this is executed well. It’s a step below an Established Relationship, so they’ve got wiggle room to develop into that.

Soulmate AU: It’s inherently romantic, what can I say? I will REALLY LOVE it though if the writer gives it a unique twist.

First Kiss & Sharing a Bed: It’s tender and sweet (or hot) and I will never get tired of it. You can’t go wrong with it.

Magic AU & Fairytale AU: It’s a fantasy world. As long as it’s not bland and there is a serviceable magic system, I will generally like it. (One caveat: it cannot be a HP AU. C’mon. As much as I like HP, you can do better as a writer than transporting these characters into the HP universe. Come up with your own magic system.) For fairytale AUs, it’s basically your Hans Christian Andersen/ Disney fairytale with your favorite characters. I don’t think you can go wrong with it. I just love any AUs in general.

Huddle for Warmth: Same as First Kiss & Sharing a Bed & PWP.

Tier 2 (A Level)

Fluff: Oftentimes reading cute fluff (like sneaking quick kisses or holding hands) can make me blush and giggle more than reading p0rn or smut on my phone in public. HOWEVER, unlike a oneshot where I can tolerate it, for me fluff has be spread sporadically throughout if it’s a long fic. If the long fic is just too fluffy and sweet all the way throughout (force-feeding me “meng” and “dog food” (PDA)), I get the equivalent of a sugary overdose and any interest I have for the fic dries up into “ugh, that’s enough”—which usually ends up with me dropping the fic if the fluff had oversaturated everything (all sugar/ fluff, no real meaty substance). There’s only so much cutesy uwu, descriptions of someone’s soft coquettish voice scratching the Love Interest’s heart like a cat’s paw, etc that I can stomach at a time. It’s like junk food; I can’t eat too much of it.

PWP: As a connoisseur of all things slowburn and a demisexual irl, I have to be in the mood to read a PWP. It’s p0rn without plot; I don’t expect to be reading much plot (although it’d be a pleasant surprise if the p0rn came with some serviceable-enough plot 👌). It is what’s written on the tin. I’m not here expecting a Shakespearean masterpiece. A writer was gripped by the h0rny and decided to share, and this was the result. I’m here to turn my brain off, have fun, and read about two of my favorite fictional characters banging each other stupid.

Im Vino Veritas (Drunken Confessions): Yes, gimme. I’m picky about the execution and the follow-up scene that comes after the drunken confession though (after the drunk character sobers up). The writer has to be skilled enough for me to root for the character and not cringe (unless the whole point is to cringe at the drunk confessing because it’s established they’re a cannon fodder character who won’t get together with the MC or Love Interest).

Missing Scenes: I generally like it when writers come up with a What-If scenario that happens between Point A and Point C of canon. It can be fun and believable—especially if they get the characterization right. Then it’s like reading a little bonus content (like, you know it’s a person’s headcanon but, dang, it’s written so well I could almost believe it was canon).

Office AU: I love me my rich Sugar Daddy AUs and doting CEO husbands pampering and spoiling their lovers. I enjoy reading about a business expanding into a powerful corporation and the power struggles that come with. It’s a guilty pleasure. (I do have to try not to think about HR though.)

Showbiz AU: It’s a guilty pleasure. Sometimes I learn something new about the acting or modeling or fashion industry, and it’s interesting. I also like seeing the journey of the unknown underdog MC rising like a phoenix from a nobody to a well-respected powerhouse of their industry.

Reincarnation: Same as how I regard almost other AUs here (inject it into my veins). With reincarnation though, I usually like to see the rebirth have an affect on the story. It’s an important plot device after all. If it seems like the whole rebirth part could be omitted and it wouldn’t even impact the story with that aspect removed, then…well, sorry, the story didn’t execute it well.

Cold Love Interest: Depends on the execution, but I like it when you have this character who’s known to be cold slowly be thawed out the more and more they start opening up to the Main Character—until they inevitably fall in love. It’s essentially reading about an ice cube that has melted into warm spring water. The transformation can be so beautiful and moving, because you��ve been following them on their journey of self-discovery and finding happiness. (However, my tolerance toward Cold Characters does have a limit; they can’t be irredeemable at the start. Because if it’s the equivalent of the Wife Chasing Crematorium trope, where the Love Interest is a cheating (?) murderous (?) selfish abusive assh0le who has essentially traumatized the MC and still gets together with them at the end…….ugh, 9/10 times I will dislike it even if the ML or FL realizes how much their actions have hurt the MC and tries their best to make up to it for the rest of their lives.)

Dense Protagonist: A protagonist who is oblivious to the Love Interest character pining and simping hardcore after them can be hilarious. However, I am generally picky about its execution. It can teeter the fine line between endearing and dumb/ annoying. At some point, their denseness can become too much (to the point where it’s no longer funny or amusing) that my suspension of disbelief drops and it’s no longer fun to read the story for me personally.

Unrequited Love: Depends on the context. Is it the writer’s intention to make it bittersweet and unresolved? Is the character pining after their unrequited love, and it’s the early stage of the story where the MC or ML/FL have yet to reciprocate? Is the intention to make me cry? For all of these, I usually like to know before I jump into a fic—because I’m a sappy woman who gets easily teary-eyed and I easily get touched by moving depictions of the human connection. So I don’t want my young glass maiden heart to be hurt too much, haha; there’s only so much abuse my heart can handle.

Crossover: At some point, I run out of fics (the good ones) to read for the specific ship I like. So I turn to crossovers, to see how my favorite MC can be shipped with someone else. If the writer’s good, they can blend the worlds and these cast of characters together seamlessly. It’s like a brain puzzle—so I have countless admiration for those who can execute crossovers well.

Time Loop: This is your usual Nicholas Sparks’ (a romance writer) type of story; a time loop is basically Groundhog Day where the MC has to figure out how to break the time loop—and I’m usually invested in the mystery of how they’re gonna pull it off. I’d like to say when I’m in the mood to read this, writers tend to execute the trope well (my logic: if you’re going to introduce a plot device, make it relevant to the story; if it can be omitted and it doesn’t detract from the experience, then it doesn’t need to be there).

Hurt/ Comfort: To an extent. It’s the same as Fluff or Angst for me. Moderation is key.

Sex Pollen & Bang or Die: Similar to how I regard PWPs.

Arranged Marriage: Generally I will like if executed well. I almost put this in Tier 3, because I more often than not don’t usually click on a fic if I see this trope tagged (because my brain thinks about the irl implications). BUT…it is the premise of almost every transmigration (isekai) light novel or manhua/manhwa I read—and they work because it’s a fish out of water story where the MC finds out there they have an arranged marriage to a king, prince, duke, noble, knight, etc with a certain cruel or perfect reputation, and you get to read about them learning about their real selves and falling in love over time with their fiancée/fiancé. And it’s so cute. This is my expectation when I read fics with this trope: a fairytale-like romance, where the arranged marriage managed to work out in this couple’s favor instead of it being loveless.

Baby Fic & Pregnancy Fic: I would not go out of my way to read oneshots where the whole premise is specifically only about either of this. It has to be just one of the ingredients in the whole long fic. Writing children is tougher than you think (you have to be so careful writing about them because you can toe the line between making them precocious and making them annoying), and some people are unable to respectfully write pregnancy characters, choosing instead to focus on the humor of pregnancy stereotypes—but the gags can come across as shallow writing than giving it the proper respect it deserves. So it depends on 1) the execution and 2) my mood. I’ve read a couple good ones, but that’s because the writer is good at delivering the concept that is easily digestible and frames the whole process of birth and child rearing as a beautiful process of nature and life.

Tier 3 (B Level)

A/B/O: I will not intentionally go out of my way 99/100 times to read Omegaverse stories. Shocker, I know. It’s just, for me, I tend to find a majority of these general A/B/O fics…shallow and of little substance. Most of the time, I find the writing can also be a bit distasteful, especially when it comes to the omega and alpha dynamic in this kinda story (in the wrong hands, the writer can make their story come across as r@pey and sexist/ misogynistic, especially if an alpha’s being aggressive and forceful with the MC because they’ve been affected by the smell of an omega’s heat—and now I’m reading descriptions of the omega character sobbing and crying out “no, no, no” and “please stop” and I’m in disbelief why people find this hot). I also don’t like the submissiveness of the omega character where it’s like I’m reading about a milquetoast wet rag who has all their fight drained out and has no personality other than being a hole that produces slick and blushes constantly. Also, for me, predictability is not something I like; if I can predict everything that’s going to happen in a fic, I will become bored. I need some kinda serviceable plot for me to be emotionally invested in an A/B/O fic or there’s some kinda hook that keeps me coming back. I can enjoy the rare one A/B/O fic out of one hundred similar A/B/O fics, but I am INCREDIBLY PICKY about what I choose. The premise itself is also very important to what makes or breaks an A/B/O fic experience for me (for example, if it’s a Dark fic, then I can be more forgiving because it’s expected for there to be dark themes).

Miscommunication: For me there’s no in-between. I will either hate or love this trope, depending on its execution in the fic. On the extreme end of hatred, I am ticked off when a conflict in the story can be easily resolved had the character(s) communicated properly—and it’s just so incredibly dumb. On the opposite end, miscommunication can be done well as a funny gag or a plot device that shows how differently characters can interpret a situation or words. So depending on which one of these the fic delivers, it determines how much I can enjoy a fic.

Love Triangle: See my opinion on Harem Fics, and now make my aversion less strong. I’m a wee more forgiving on this trope because it’s a love triangle where you start off with the MC, the ML/FL, and the love rival—and the story is about the MC choosing one of them. The other Love Triangle I’m okay with is if it’s obviously a poly ship where the MC ends up with two people—but it has to be executed well (I generally have to like both options for the MC). I’m more of a monogamous soulmate type of gal, so I’m kinda picky on the execution when a story focuses on the love triangle. It can’t drag on to the point where I find it to be insufferable. The danger with a love triangle is I, your reader, might come to like the Second Male Lead or Second Female Lead—and think they were a better fit for the MC than the actual Fe/Male Lead that was chosen just because this character was the writer’s favorite. In this case, the moment the wrong candidate is chosen, my interest in the fic dwindles and I feel like I’m reading a lesser version of what initially drew me to the fic in the first place. So now it’s the writer’s responsibility to show me why their choice is the correct one.

Angst: It’s like junk food; the key is moderation. I can’t have too much of it—otherwise it’s too angsty and the poignant emotional knives become laughable.

Humor: Humor is subjective, and differs for each person. What the writer finds funny might not be what I find funny. I’m more of a subtle gal. So if a fic’s meant to be funny throughout, it runs the risk of teetering towards me feeling secondhand embarrassment and cringing—because it’s too much and unfunny. But if a writer genuinely writes something surprising that makes me laugh, I do appreciate their talent at grasping the opportunity and having the know-how to effectively inject some lighthearted humor.

Fake Relationship: …My enjoyment level HEAVILY depends on its execution. It’s the characterization, their chemistry, and plot that have to save it for me.

Amnesia Fic: See, I understand it’s a plot device—which is why I’m a lil more forgiving. But don’t you hate it when all of a sudden a character gets memory wiped after all that progress? (I feel like I wasted my time just as the story was turning good, and now they have to start over? Kinda feels like unnecessary filler and it can drag on, and I feel like banging my head against the wall.) On a lesser extent of my pickiness, I don’t like it as much when it’s used as an exposition framing device, with the MC or Love Interest having no recollection of anything—and they’re lied to at the start about who they’re supposed to be…because you know there will be a dramatic fallout happening when they inevitably find out and that predictability (they fall out, and then you know sometime later something will bring them back together…the fakeout dramatic “breakup” is just so contrived and mechanical and formulaic) is what turns me off. (I don’t mind the amnesia trope as much if it’s used in a psychological horror/ thriller story though.)

Shizun F*cker: It’s your master (teacher) x disciple Chinese classic. I went through a phase of binging these stories and I find they’re generally all very good, but there does come a point where you start seeing similarities and not enough freshness with this trope and they all blend together (especially if it feels like it’s a pale imitation inferior copycat version of certain shizun f*cker classics). Nowadays this kinda premise has to be accompanied by something fresh and unique in order for me to keep reading—and turn my brain off from thinking about the irl teacher-student implications.

Secret Identities: If executed well, I like the reveal of their true identity in the story. It’s like you have this lowkey cute crush who has been helping you all this time—and you find out he’s, like, a mafia don or the CEO of a conglomerate or an international spy. It’s the gap moe contrast of who they pretend to be versus the secret badass they really are. It does come with the risk of some predictability for me though which can ruin my immersion (y’know…the typical MC’s outrage when finding out their Love Interest’s real identity: “You lied to me?! How can I believe you now when all you’ve done is lie to me?!” ➡️ A genuine apology ➡️ Fallout ➡️ Some sort of dramatic reconciliation after the MC or ML/FL was kidnapped).

Tier 4 (C Level)

Dubcon: It’s teetering on the verge between what I find tolerable and what I find unacceptable. As long as it does not fall into the Non-Con territory and isn’t written distastefully, I can read dubcon stories where the consent is a blurry line between these two characters.

Major Character Death: I usually don’t seek this out—because I’m a big weepy baby and I don’t want to grow attached to these characters and bawl at the end when the inevitable happens. But on the super rare instances where I do click on a fic despite this warning tag, it means I have mentally and emotionally prepared myself to get knifed in the heart.

Mary Sue Fic: As much as I love power scaling fics and OP MCs, it does get boring if there’s no setback or conflict for the MC to learn from. I mean, sure, it’s fine for them to steamroll over everyone but if I’m reading +1K chapters of them just steamrolling, they’ve become a Mary Sue. I want flaws. I want setbacks. There’s only so much chuunibyou I can tolerate. There’s only so much descriptions of how ungodly beautiful or how shockingly genius the MC is at everything before I start rolling my eyes. Fatigue has set in and the OP character has become an insufferable milquetoast Mary Sue/ Gary Stu who can do no wrong. My suspension of disbelief has finally been worn away into nothingness. This can also apply to the Love Interest character (I understand their role in the story is to satisfy the ideal dream lover trope—but please give dimension to the character). I want three-dimensional characters with backstory and flaws and an interesting personality, not Mary Sues or Gary Stus.

Y/N (OC Fic): If I’m reading fanfic about my favorite character(s), I don’t want to spend my time reading about a writer’s Original Character or Self-Insert character being shipped with my favorite. I went in to read stories with my fav ship—and only that. There have been the few exceptions to this—but me liking a Y/N or a fic with OCs is ultra rare.

Breakup: Similar to my thoughts on Unrequited Love. But taken up to a hundred. If there’s been a breakup between the main couple in the fic—and it’s not in the beginning exposition chapter where we don’t yet know enough information about these characters—in the middle or near the end, chances are I think the relationship is f*cked anyway and therefore lose interest in the main ship itself in the fic. Even if they get back together at the end, I just think, “Honey…you can do so much better than him/her.” Which is why I usually don’t like reading breakups between the main couple in my fics. (And if the breakup is because the MC or Love Interest is in a precarious situation and they think pushing them away is the best way to protect them, it’s a cliché that makes me roll my eyes because it’s been so overdone and ugh, why pretend to be awful INSTEAD OF COMMUNICATING?)

Body Swap: …It depends SO MUCH on the execution. I cringe so hard if a character (usually the guy in the body of a girl) is feeling up their developed chest like a perv. There’s only a handful of Body Swap stories that do this trope well. If two characters are swapping bodies, I want to read about how they’re trying not to OOC (lol) and see how this body swap impacts the story and cast of characters in any meaningful way.

College AU: I’ve long since graduated from college. Nuff said. Might give a fic a try if it’s well-written or a short PWP (it is what’s written on the tin) but, as a working adult, reading about petty school drama wears on my patience. There has to be plot to keep me invested. Might also read if it dives into college controversies or campus scandals—but the suspense has to be executed well. Most of the time, it works if there’s some kinda big mystery like there’s been a crime committed. Because now you have a whodunnit mystery. And that’s so much more interesting than reading about students studying and doing homework, going to parties, crushing on the professor (also, here, yikes…if you want me to turn my brain off and not think about the real life implications (the teacher’s immediate suspension (hopefully) and losing their teaching privileges and license), you gotta reel me in with the plot or characters), or the typical student college experience.

Gen Fic: It’s bland, milquetoast, mid and forgettable. It’s like sucking out all the fun elements out of a fic—and that’s not my idea of a good time. I think the only way to pull this off is if it’s a Character Study fic.

Tier 5 (F Level)

High School AU: Give me real men or women; get out of here with the kiddy stuff. I’m outside the age range to be able to enjoy this. As a working career-woman, I really don’t want to spend my free time reading about minors and teen romance and teen drama. And if there’s adult content, sorry, just—no. My brain more often than not associates it to underage s3x—and it squicks me out. It’s also so much harder for me to suspend my disbelief that this inexperienced kid from high school is like this super genius hacker or ultra cover model beauty whom grown wo/men salivate over. (Because…god no, I DON’T want to read about a minor’s “milky thighs” or “coquettish voice.” They’re, like, 14-16 y/o. Who wants to read about a predator who has designs on a teenager?) Also, unless it is at the hilarious peak levels of highschool romcom like Kaguya-sama: Love is War but in fanfiction form, reading about two high school students crushing on each other is 99/100 times so boring and milquetoast to me. I am not the target audience for this trope.

Non-Con: The real life implications ruin any chance for me to want to do anything with this trope. Consent is king, y’all. Non-con is a personal squick—and therefore I will not read if it’s what’s gonna happen between the main couple no matter how sweet and regretful the ML or FL acts after the act. It’s r@pe; I do not find SA and being forced sexy in any way. The moment I see that there’s non-con between the main couple, that’s ruined any chances of me enjoying that ship in the fic. (The only exception I can think of for this is if the ML/FL was mind-controlled or didn’t have autonomy over their body due to some kinda magic shenanigans. Or if it’s non-con framed as a horrifying traumatic experience between a character and the unimportant cannon fodder who’s there in the story to be punished as a villain and won’t be forgiven in any way.) I will not seek it out if I see a fic’s been tagged with this. And if I encounter surprise non-con in my reading, I will immediately drop the fic.

Unhappy Ending: I have a glass maiden heart. I tear up easily when characters die or suffer in a book. I don’t want to get emotionally invested in a story and its characters, only to end up with an Unhappy Ending at the end. It just feels so unsatisfactory, like I’d wasted my time on this long fic when I could’ve spent that time productively reading something else that has a much happier and better conclusion.

Crack Fic: Now, the one exception to this is if a writer jokingly says their story revolves around a crackship, but the writing’s so dang unbelievably good you don’t even think it’s a crackship in a crack fic (it’s a bonafide good story). But aside from that, 99 out of 100 times, I will not read crack fics. A crack fic is a writer’s attempt at humor. And humor is so subjective. What they find funny or entertaining might not be what I find funny or entertaining. Most of the time, it’s also of little substance and random and the writing is all over the place (which…y’know, I get it; I notice a lot of people mention they had a wild dream about this and that’s the reason why they’re writing a crack fic.) I’m happy that they’re writing what they find funny and I’m hoping it’s fun for them, but crack fics are not my cuppa tea.

Coffeeshop AU: It’s so mid and blah to me. It’s the most milquetoast Meet Cute out of all the Meet Cutes they could have chosen. I think the only one I recently read in, like, years, is because of a Art & Fic Exchange Bang I’d participated in. It’s so long ago. Basically unless it’s a stalker or secret identity or psychological horror story to make it interesting, I’d rather read anything else than a bland Coffeeshop AU.

Next Generation: Similar to how I regard OC Fics or OCs in general. I’m here to read fanfiction to read about canon characters of a show or book. I did not come here to read about a writer’s cast of Original Characters or Self-Insert characters. If 99% of the fanfic is about the OCs who are the sons and daughters of the canon characters, I just won’t read it. Won’t touch it. Won’t come anywhere near it. They might as well have written an original story of their own instead of a fanfic. (But 99/100 times, it’s poorly written and you can tell it’s written by a younger writer…eeesh. The good thing is, the more they write, the more practice they’re getting, so the better their writing will be.)

Bonus (F Level)

Cheating/ NTR: my brain automatically associates irl with this—and I find it despicable. The 1% chance I would read this trope is if the MC/ Love Interest is shown the consequences of their actions and the story promises that the person who’s been cheated on breaks up with them. Or if it’s a Mindlessly Self-Indulgent PWP oneshot—so I know to turn my brain off and lower my usual standards coming in.

Harem Fic: It’s Love Triangle—but taken up a notch. It’s so hard to write stallion (er0tica) protags that come across as endearing and not a playboy scummy f*ckboi. It annoys me if I’ve developed attachment to a ship or character and am interested in their relationship development (my waifu or husbando), but the story suddenly shifts to Side Character No.50 whom I couldn’t give two hoots about. The only exceptions to this, for me to keep reading a harem fic, is 1) if I like the storytelling, worldbuilding, and/or protagonist or main ship that makes it worth it. It’s very rare but there have been handful of writers who have actually made a harem where I care for and like ALL of the waifus. 2) I also enjoy harem dramas where the MC face-slaps every love rival, evil concubines, white lotus conniving mistresses, jealous queen/ mother, etc—and gets The Wo/Man.

Fanfiction Tropes (Writer Edition)

I’m much more open-minded writer usually 😅, so I’m usually open to try almost anything—but my criteria of tropes I will write for the story depends on my mood and the story’s premise. They usually have to pose some relevancy to the fic (which depends on its premise and characters) and satisfy my want to contribute something fresh/ interesting to the fandom if I decide to write that trope.

The biggest two changes are: 1) I’d move most of these tropes up into Always Down to Write and a few into If the Plot Calls for It. I’d also probably reorder a couple tropes if I look at them from a writer’s perspective (left ➡️ right, arranged from tropes I feel strongly about ➡️ the tropes I consider mid and don’t hold much strong opinions about). 2) I’d change the categories to:

Always Down to Write tier (probably 90% of these)

If the Plot Calls for It, or if I’m Curious and Want to Try Experimenting with It tier (I typically don’t go out of my way to read these, but would be willing to challenge myself and see what the writing experience would be like)

You’d Never Catch Me with My Pants Down Writing It tier (fun fact: there’s only maybe 4 or 5 of these I’d put here)

If you happen to be a writer whose tropes fall into ones I do not like and you know I’ve gushed about your fic before, know that you were one of the rare exceptions and I hope knowing this makes you happy. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[realcowboysdrinkjuice]

hello Alexander i hope this message reaches you in good health. in the tags of a recent post you described being able to find roleplay partners when you wanted to even with social anxiety. pray tell how did you do this. thank you for your assistance. warmly, anon y mouse

Hi!!!! first off disclaimer- i haven’t done any roleplay in agessss so hopefully all of this still applies in this age of the internet!

but when i was a lot younger i first started out by roleplaying a ton on my own minecraft server (my dad works with computers so he set one up for me and my sister in like 2011/2012) and i played with a lot of people from school from me or my sisters classes which was nice because we both had a degree of control over it since it was Our server and it was a small group of people. to be fair i was also a child so even though i wasn’t medicated yet i probably had a lot less learned anxiety at the time even if i still had the shit i was born with lmao cause there’s definitely some things i struggle with now that i didn’t as a young kid since i just didn’t think about them as much then.

after that a ton of people moved to skype and we roleplayed a TON there and that was when i was a bit older so it was fandoms and things i was actually interested in whereas in minecraft it was random stuff or our own storylines or someone’s cousin was really into assassins creed and i didn’t (and still don’t) know a single thing about the game but really wanted to roleplay anyway lmao.

honestly after skype i didn’t really roleplay very much after that even though i did it daily as a kid/early teen BUT i was still finding some ways to make friends which can be transferable to this if they also like roleplay :)!! i don’t have many friends currently idk if covid fucked me up that bad or if i’ve just gotten worse at it over time so this feels a slight bit hypocritical since i’m not following my own advice super well at the moment lol but discord is HUGE. obviously you have to be super careful but ive made a lot of online friends by joining discords servers. even when i had to lurk for a day or two before i got comfortable (and i had people encouraging me when i admitted to that) even though i would still be an anxious wreck for a while if i met online folks irl they are still so so important to me and helped me so much, especially since i have an easier time talking online. smaller discords can be good if large groups of people are intimidating but bigger ones are good if you’re worried about being singled out and want to hide in the crowd. irl i feel like the ideal group of people is three cause if i stop talking it’s not awkward since there’s still two other people, but online i don’t really mind how many people there are since it’s a lot easier of a disconnect since im just looking at words on a screen. discord is also where i played dnd for the first time! i was 15 and i barely knew anyone there but i was obsessed w the adventure zone in early high school and really wanted to try it so i pushed through that anxiety. tbh now i think i might prefer just watching (definitely cause of the social anxiety but oh well i think that’s still a valid as hell way to enjoy the game) but im so glad i found an environment where i felt safe enough to try it even though tbh i barely remember the experience so i must have been so nervous holy shit.

i’ve never used them so i can’t attest to how great they are but tons of people roleplay on online forums! i used to use a website called chicken smoothie where you collect pets and trade and shit but they had a HUUUUGGGEEE forum where tons of people were roleplaying there, and since it’s a forum it feels like it would be slower paced even though i was personally a bit nervous about the formality of the ones i saw.

honestly just tl;dr it’s still so scary but i promise you there’s people out there who are also nervous and i think creating a story with real people is just so much rewarding then anything character ai sites can do. and i think making online friends is an invaluable resource for stuff like that, especially since it’s a lot easier to hit the bricks if you get scared, especially since for me personally im selectively mute and that’s not really an issue over text so that’s one less worry i have to deal with. but i really hope you can find those people because i have so many find memories of roleplaying with my friends growing up since that was most of my social experiences (not sure how to phrase that) came from since i was so anxious at school and literally didn’t talk to barely anyone like kids in my class straight up learned to talk to teachers for me cause they knew i wasn’t going to do it so hanging out with people online was so important.

hopefully at least some of this is helpful- i don’t have a ton of experience since im still only 21 and i also spent all the covid years being stagnant so honestly i don’t even feel 21 so i definitely don’t have all the answers but that’s what i found worked for me growing up. a lot of it is just pretending you aren’t as scared as you are and just being honest with people because in my experience they’re usually really understanding about you being nervous cause everyone has been there even if it’s not to the same degree. ALSO second disclaimer- im not in therapy (tried several times but i’ve never been able to talk to the therapist which is kind of an important part of therapy) so take all of this with a grain of salt because i have no clue if any of my coping mechanisms are healthy but i haven’t died yet so i guess im doing something right?

sorry this is so long lmao and i have no clue how helpful it is

[writers-ex]

🦦 in the house, how’s everyone doing?

ohoho anons taller than you get hugs I hear?

Prepare yourself to face me with your arms open hannie >:)

Kidding, this goes out to everyone that sees this. It’s all love here, I had a tough week myself screwing myself over with university applications. I also look too intimidating irl for anyone to be touchy with me except for my dog but best believe I’ll hand out hugs if I’m asked to, or may get touchy with others when I’m drunk.

Hannie, any book recs? Any genre would do, I’d like to see what you enjoy reading. Movie/show recs would do too :D (open to all anons too)

I’d love to insert a picture of my goldfish here but I’d have to reveal myself as I can’t post it while on anon. Maybe I’d do it one day when I have the confidence to. I also just applied to the top university in my country in hopes to get into the supposedly strong sociology department, crossing my fingers I get in considering I topped my school 🐸 . I’m also trying to pick up a new language, and have some volunteering at soup kitchens planned, excited to volunteer w my friends.

Here’s a short little digestible playlist for you to show you that you’re appreciated, greatly so. (Yes, you, hannie.)

You’ve honestly only been the only tumblr author I’ve been comfy enough with to interact with

Jakob- Next to Me

Matt Maltese- Everyone Adores You ( at least I do)

Sir Chloe- Walk You Home

Crumb- Ghostride

The Strokes- Call it Fate, Call it Karma

I don’t know what the weathers like, so bring an extra jacket out if it’s cold, wear sunscreen, drink enough water, get your dietary fiber, and don’t drink too much cold drinks. I’ll always take time to look at your updates, so will many of us, so if you need someone to lean on, we’re here 🥳

Go have the best week ahead

you're welcome to answer 🦦 here in the comments or in the ask box bc they're very cool B) and i'll murder anyone who says otherwise <3 and yes free hugs to anyone taller than 5", 4'9 below gets headpats hehe

i felt that- school has been just brain dead like…i'm too tired to type this out T^T and BET you probably look like a cinnamon roll, 100/10 would hug you if we met IRL

BOOK RECS READ THE WHOLE UNIVERSE OF LEIGH BARDUGO SO GOOD, also i love the selection series by kiera cass my girl it was my comfort books in high school, might you be interested in the whole percy jackson series bc i read everything in over month…ish

and as for shows/movies…. currently here are my top you must watch or leave my blog shows <3 -the untamed found on youtube (i have reseen this series over eight time completed and the special episodes and manhwa….i might rewatch it tonight lol) -bbc sherlock idk where to see this (i have memorized the line of every episode minus s4 and…this show was my middle school angst dreams i love it plz see) -OMG THE ENTIRE TOMB RAIDING SERIES WITH WUXIE AND THE IRON TRIANGLE YES OMG PLEASE WATCH THIS I KNOW ITS LONG BUT OMG I WILL LITERALLY MARRY ANYONE THAT HAS SEEN OR KNOWS WHAT THIS IS TT I LOVE THIS SO FLIPPING MUCH NEXT TO THE UNTAMED ASJFLKJDKJKDSJFLKADJLKFJDL (i HIGHLY recommend the ultimate note and sound of providence both on youtube, OR WATCH THE TIME RAIDERS MOVIE i will explain everything u're confused abt) -secret crush on you youtube bish (let me tell u if you can make it past the first three epsiodes you will be GREATLY surprised… just saying) OR my school president also on youtube (it made me want to go back to high school so flipping cute) -the castle in the sky studio ghilibi movie (i've seen it four times and love the entire thing, so comforting and unique <3) -big hero6 or cars 2 (they made my childhood like 10x better idk) -THE LAST OF US BROOOOOOOOOOOOOO (i am DEAD this show is CRAZY, i am terrified of zombies and cried for three days straight when i saw the first 15 minutes of the train to busan and have never finished it sincee BUT the amount of zombies lessens per epsiode and it focuses on the characters…just don't watch at night if you're a chicken like me) -animes…i loved kuroko no baske (a basketball anime that motivated me to play every single day in highschool…by myself bc no one wanted to play outside with me not even the guys that played in the court next door offered to let me join in bc i was a girl BISH FIGHT ME-) OR the promised neverland but the manga not s2…we don't talk abt that…

oooh i love goldfish if you feel comfortable you can dm the photo or send it on asks and i'll save the photo and upload it to the blog tagging your anon handle <3 i hope you get into the uni of your choice, that's a cool career path i wish you the best and hit me up if you need dental advice XD i'm trying to learn italian and ASL and that so wonderful you volunteer with your friends sends you a high five through my screen

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW THANK U I FEEL SO HONORED TT nah thank YOU for lighting up my ask box, not just you but ALL of you thank you soooo soo sooo sooo sooo soooo sooo soo MUCH <3 it means the world to me and beyond bc you take some time in your day to read or send an ask bows politely i hope to keep your thoughts safe and judgement free plus put a smile on your face if i'm able, each and every one of you deserves it

i loved the last playlist you told me abt this monster school and i vibe to it sm i made a spotify playlist for when any anons sends in an ask so i will gladly add these to it thank you :3

yeah its so hot here…i will drink water and love cold drinks so… haha ^-^);; back to you, please get sufficient rest or at least go to sleep at midnight NO LATER >:l, stretch b4 doing any activites, GO LOOK UP AT THE CLOUDS seriously my whole camera roll is of clouds bc they're so pretty, always carry a bandaid just in case, wash your hands for 20 seconds, and buy that thing you wanted this month <3 awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww thank you i will update you guys if anything but i'm just pooped rn T-T

wishing you the best week ever >3<

[thefeedress]

FFA MUSINGS

I was 17 when I learned the terms "feeder" "feedee" and "feederism" from stumbling across one of those trash documentaries about the kink. Apparently, my sexuality revolved around extremes and predators: creepy straight men coercing naive women into transforming their bodies and their lives - the women didn't particularly seem to be getting off on it or even have much agency in the whole thing. The men were awful. (Sometimes, these days, I look back and wonder how much all the negatives of what I saw were exaggerated by the editing…)

That was my lightbulb moment, where I discovered the label for something very personal and private that I'd had all my life but always felt confused and ashamed about. I now also had the pleasure of feeling extra disgusting and very alone, having been shown what horrible company I was in, and that I now knew I was a feeder, but apparently all feeders were men.

Any furtive investigations online (in the reasonably early days of the internet) seem to confirm this suspicion: female feeders were not A Thing, there might possibly be one or two others out there at best. Male gainers only seemed to exist in their own niche in gay subculture, and although I was happy they were out there somewhere living their best lives, they were obviously Not For Me.

I was 34 when after years of pushing it all to the back of my mind, I finally gave in. I've been with the same (non-feedist) partner since my early 20s, so I just assumed that I'd never be able to explore it irl anyway, and that was that. I can't remember what happened or why I decided that I had to try to find some others to connect with, even just to chat with, but in the end (with my partner's blessing) I found and joined Feabie (of which I have many opinions but I'll leave those for another time…) and interacted with other feedists online for the first time in my life.

Guess what: straight male feedees exist. They exist, and there's fucking loads of them!! Tons of the buggers in my inbox all day every day for weeks. Pretty heady experience going from outcast freak to Much Sought After Item - apparently female feeders really are quite rare, or we don't have much of an online presence (or most of us are lurking in a secret lair somewhere that the others haven't invited me to, rude….) or they're also out there somewhere thinking they're the only one.

The unbridled glee of feeling popular and desirable for being something I'd always felt ashamed of did wear off a teensy bit after the endless onslaught of "hey" "hi" "how u" "ayy babygurl" "I'm looking for a feeder please accommodate all my kinks even though I'm a total stranger and I clearly don't give a shit about you as a human being" "You're a woman on the internet I'm entitled to your attention don't be difficult what's your problem" and my current favourite, the bizarrely ominous "Can I ask ur opinion?" (The answer is no my friend, if I wanted to be spammed with anonymous torso pics that I'm meant to manufacture comments about that you can get off to I'd have asked YOU.)

But. I'm still completely overjoyed that male feedees exist, that I've spoken to so many cool and interesting and lovely guys, that I've had experiences I'd always assumed I wouldn't, that I FINALLY MET OTHER FFAs and they are awesome and now I'm close friends with one and it's freaking GREAT. All of this has also lead my partner and I to discover polyamory and now I'm in love with two people who love me back NOBODY EVER SAID YOU WERE ALLOWED TO DO THAT WHY THE FUCK DID NO ONE TELL ME

There are so many nuances and preferences I'd never considered. I knew what I liked and that's what I sought out in terms of porn and that was that. Actually talking to feedees and learning about the whole spectrum of things they each did or didn't enjoy or want to participate in was a revelation, and also helped me clarify my own preferences myself.

There are still things I've yet to come to terms with or decide how to feel about. The main things I'd always felt guilty or ashamed of were less to do with fat or fat guys, it was the feeding itself.

Where being an FFA is concerned - I like to think that if I'd ever been lucky enough to have a fat boyfriend when I was younger, I wouldn't have been shallow enough to care what anyone else thought. It's possible I'm giving my younger self too much credit; I know for certain that some people in my life would have made nasty comments, I was also hugely insecure myself, and I have no idea what it really would have been like. I have no doubt that living all my life in a fatphobic society has affected me in more ways than I'm even aware of (same as everyone else in some way, I'm guessing....). I think any uneasiness I felt there was less worrying about shallow friends or family members, and more how to find potential fat partners without offending them. I have always been conscious of the fact that the majority of fat people would very likely be horrified to be thought of and objectified through the lens of this fetish. You never know what someone's relationship to their own body is, but it's safe to bet that it's a more complex one than it seems, and also, unless you're expressly invited into that relationship by that person, it's none of your fucking business.

But anyway, the main reason I never had many hangups about it was that I don't think I even *was* attracted to fat people when I was young - sometimes I'm not sure I was even attracted to anyone. I had crushes on boys all the time, but I never thought of anyone sexually. My teenage fantasies were pure belly kink: stuffing, chugging, bloating, inflation, any kind of ridiculous fantasy belly expansion - the actual fattening aspect of feeding was less a part of it, and fancying fat dudes was never connected to it. By the time I'd begun to join the dots and wonder if I liked fat boys, I'd started to happen across media that portrays the worst of Feedism, and since I liked sadistic fucked up stuff and already felt ashamed of it, all of that just confirmed to me that I was right to hate myself. Even now, when I'm exposed to much more conversation about this kink than I ever used to be, I notice a lot of love for soft feedism, wholesome fatness appreciation, body positivity, romance (all of which I absolutely love, don't get me wrong) and I still sometimes feel Iike I'm being left out of the party. Keeping my fingers crossed for more consensual femdom-feedism love (and content, ugh…)

But… what would have happened if I hadn't gotten the fuck over myself and put myself out there, tried to find others? How many other young people see themselves portrayed horribly in the media and hide parts of themselves FROM THEMSELVES forever? What happens next? I've apparently found the one person who likes all the same twisted things I do, but actually getting to see him irl ever or do any of the things we want to do seems impossible, and not just because of Covid.

This fetish is lonely for most of us I think, in some way or another. There aren't many feedists, there don't seem to be as many female feeders or male feedees, there probably aren't many people who will share the same preferences within the fetish that you do, and frankly when you filter out the people who aren't crazy or creepy or don't know how to hold a conversation, the pool shrinks even further. I've seen plenty of posts bemoaning how hard it is to find someone, but seriously, having spent most of my life in a vacuum where this stuff is concerned, I'm still buzzing from having engaged with the small handful of people I've engaged with, even just to chat to.

What I want to say to my younger self is: you're a good person. You're just a kinky bitch, that's all.

I feel like this description probably applies to all the best people, I can live with that.

[gwyns]

I'm surprised I haven't seen anyone draw parallels between Feyre leaving Tamlin for her Mate to Elain leaving Azriel for her Mate. (Ignoring the fact I hate Rhysand, the books obviously want me to think he's the best person ever so I'll just pretend). Because that's what I see happening.

Elain and Azriel are so clearly rebounds for one another. Elain's still grieving her human love and life, and Azriel is still hung up on Mor. They're both quiet and available, so they jump to each other. That's it. The Azriel POV was purely about what he wants. How he wants to fuck her and taste her. He's just sex to her.

Even if E/riels had a more convincing case, it's not like SJM hasn't pulled a SIKE on us before. If she goes anywhere with E/riel, she'll undoubtedly pull it back. SJM doesn't take Mating bonds lightly, and she's stated that she loves Lucien. And if anyone deserves the happiness of a bond, it's him.

Feyre and Rhys, and Cassian and Nesta, all had relationships/lovers before Mating. Elain "liking" Az now, (which we're not even clear on), doesn't really mean much.

I'd like to hear your thoughts! You're so good at this, and you always explain my thoughts so perfectly. Love and light 💕💕💕

honestly there are quite a few feysand/elucien parallels that people either don't see or choose to ignore.

rhysand was first presented as a villain to feyre, the same could be applied to lucien just bc of his envolvement with tamlin (that he wrongfully gets blamed for btw idk why e/riels love blaming tamlin's mistakes on lucien). feyre was engaged before she went to rhys, elain was engaged before she met lucien. both were/are? still hung up on their former fiances. feysand as a couple represents the night, elucien would represent (at least in part) day. it's literally night and day with them. they're similar but also wholly their own pairing, it's fascinating to me.

anyway i think i will use this ask to spill some of my e/riel opinions sorry about that! alright let's start off with this controversial statement: i don't think e/riel was ever meant to be endgame.

i've seen it said a few times over the years that sarah changed her mind about elucien and while that's possible bc she also previously changed her mind on lucien and nesta one has to ask themselves..... if she wanted to write a mate bond rejection why didn't she stick with her original plan of lucien and nesta being mates? she's said herself that they wouldn't work but she chose to change lucien's mate to someone who compliments him better, and it's to feyre's other sister no less. that tells me lucien is important and powerful, he's mated to one of the sisters, one of the key players of the entire series.

another point is we can assume (and we could be wrong, let me put this here before someone yells at me or vague blogs about it) that sjm had an elucien endgame in mind when writing acowar, right? and when she was touring for that book hadn't she already started work on acofas? and we know that she's never on social media, so if she had an elucien endgame in mind when she wrote all of the supposed e/riel "evidence" where does that leave us?

drama. tension. conflict. angst.

i think that's what it all comes down to. people will say that elucien was a front while e/riel is the true endgame but... it all seems a bit easy, doesn't it? e/riel is right in your face while elucien is silently brewing in the background. what if the bait and switch isn't elucien, but e/riel?

sarah has shown us before that she likes to use her characters as ways for her other characters to end up with their endgame matches. for example, without tamlin, feyre wouldn't have met rhys. and moving over to throne of glass for a second, if not for chaol, aelin wouldn't have met rowan. and in turn, if aelin hadn't given yrene the money she needed in tab, chaol wouldn't have met her.

are the e/riel scenes romantically coded? yes, probably. i'm not saying they aren't, some people picked up on it but i personally didn't get that vibe myself, especially in acowar, but acofas kinda blurred the lines a bit. but even then, i didn't think they'd work out and i still don't understand the arguments that are supposed to be in their favor from that book. elain says she doesn't want a male so that excludes lucien but not azriel somehow? that line means she doesn't want any fae, she wants a human man, she wants graysen. then we have lucien saying he can't even stand to be in the same room as elain which i never read as a "oh i hate this person" kinda way. no, it's bc the whole situation between them is awkward and it obviously makes both of them uncomfortable. it doesn't help when literally all of the inner circle is constantly around them, and being in the night court in general doesn't give them the privacy to get to know each other.

some people like to ask why build e/riel up at all if they're not going to be together? one thing i've always loved about sjm's books is how she can write relationships. now, let's say you meet someone irl and you like them, eventually maybe fall in love with them, and fail to notice how they're not good for you. maybe everyone around you can see it, but you don't. you want a relationship and you're in a decent one, it should work out. like they're not a bad person, this relationship just isn't right for you in the long run. why waste your time? it's life. sometimes things are good for you at a certain point in time but not later on. sometimes you just end up in a relationship that was never good for you. sometimes you fall out of love with someone. you're constantly learning and adapting to things and that's my stance on e/riel. i think they're both looking for companionship and they're the "safest" and most available option.

taking it back to acofas, azriel was relived to not have to get elain a gift and was still gazing longingly at mor. now in acosf he's avoiding talking about her while wanting to fuck elain and getting defensive when helion mentions mor. he's not over her. he's not going to just completely forget 500 years of pining bc elain showed up, especially when they haven't even helped one another to move on. if they had, we would have seen the proof of that. not just "oh she's hot we both want sex", that doesn't make a healthy relationship.

as for elain, she's been taught she has to act a certain way her entire life. she has to downplay her trauma and emotions to appease others so they don't worry about her. maybe she's even had visions involving lucien that upset/scare her somehow and she's reaching out for something else. i think they're both lonely and desperate (at least on az's end) for someone that they ultimately are drawn to the wrong people.

as for the lack of elucien development... this is how i see it. if they're endgame, why would sarah have all of their big moments happen off screen or as a throwaway line in acosf? elain is getting a book, we know this, and with how much of the story is tied to lucien and how much is left unresolved with him, we can also assume he'd get a pov at some point. so imo it makes sense for the fact we got little to no development for them in acosf. no, she wants a huge wedge between them so we can watch them come together. the payoff will be that much sweeter. kinda similar to how she put a wedge between nessian before acosf, sure they had more development in acowar than elucien but i think that's bc sarah knew they'd get the first spinoff. she had to give them that development whereas elucien can wait, a bit longer. it's frustrating yes but i do think we'll get something in acotar 5.

maybe i'm an optimistic fool, maybe sarah did at one point have an endgame in mind for them, but i find it hard to believe she wouldn't see how wrong they are for each other in the long run. she's very good at showing us how well characters fit together with just a few lines.

[nonbinaryresource]

hi. i wanted to ask whether or not it’s ok to take comfort in a person that has not officially come out as trans but has included many forms of gender expression in their work? i’m trans and when i listened to this artist’s work (harry styles - she & fine line) i connected with the songs immediately? i found a lot of people in the community who too connected to the songs and interpreted the lyrics as a struggle with one’s gender identity. at first i was against calling harry trans because i thought it was wrong, but then after reading master posts i discovered that he constantly portrays gender in his work (using the trans flag on his album cover; being ok with his friends referring to him with she/her, miss, ‘sue’ instead of ‘harry’, and sis; his obsession with babies and especially wanting to get pregnant; relating himself only to female artists; etc.) and now i’m really confused. it feels comforting as a fan to relate to him and i, and a lot of other fans from the community, sometimes refer to him with he/she/they instead of he/him (he never said his pronouns are he/him). is that wrong? every time my (trans) friends and i refer to him with pronouns other than he/him or tell people not to assume he’s cis as he never specified that, other (usually cis. a trans fan called me transphobic and told me to stop seeking validation from cis white men.) fans will start calling us transphobic and delusional and attacking us to the point we had anxiety attacks over it? i’m just really confused right now. i don’t want to misgender anyone but i don’t understand why relating to someone who, from their actions, could be part of the community is wrong. i’m not out to anyone irl and sometimes i wish people caught on to the little things i do and recognise that i am part of the community. i don’t understand why people keep shutting down the idea the harry could be trans when he never said he was cis and was ok being referred to as she.

he has previously said that there are no lines between what's masculine and what's feminine for him anymore. i'm sorry this is so long and thank you

(You also sent in the song lyrics - thanks for the easy reference! - but I’m clipping those for length reasons.)

Disclaimer before I dig in: I am not a Harry Styles stan, I know very little about him, most of what I am going to say specifically about him is stuff I researched about specifically to answer this ask. I want to speak mostly generally to your question.

Okay, so you posed a pretty succinct, straight forward question. “i wanted to ask whether or not it’s ok to take comfort in a person that has not officially come out as trans but has included many forms of gender expression in their work?“ However, there’s also a lot of context to this ask that makes things not so straight forward, and there are several distinct issues touched upon here I want to delve into. But it seems a good a starting place as any to start with the direct question you asked.

Yes, of course it’s okay to find your own meaning in art and role models and relate to art your way from your perspective based on your experience. In fact, that’s nearly the entire purpose of art! And it makes sense too, that we as social creatures would look up to and be inspired by celebrities, artists, mentors, role models, etc. Feeling connected to and less alone because someone in the spotlight plays with gender presentation like you might or want to makes a lot of sense!

However, we have to remember that A) sometimes art is just art, and B) someone being in the spotlight doesn’t mean we actually know or understand them or are/should act familiar with them.

As an example, a couple years back, Will Jay released a song called “Never Been in Love” that pretty much exploded with aros and aces and became a bit of an anthem for a lot of us. Many wondered if he was aspec himself and there was a lot of queries about it (and I saw quite a few blogs reminding folk that they were allowed to relate to the song even if it meant something different to Will Jay or he wasn’t actually aspec). Earlier this year, he released the song “Lies” where he admits that he was writing songs he thought people would relate to and he actually had been in love even before writing “Never Been In Love”. That should do nothing to diminish how meaningful the song was to people, though! If we related to the song, we related to the song, and if it was meaningful and made us feel seen and understood, that’s great! A lot of times, art is personal, but sometimes art is just an exploration.

This concept applies even more to people themselves. It is soooo easy to idolize and romanticize people you’ve never actually met and really only see the persona they want you to see. Yes, they share personal information with the world and they experience a general lack of privacy that makes you feel like yeah, you really know who they are. But how can you really, personally, intimately know someone without interacting with them, chatting with them, getting to know them one on one? It’s fine to have role models and feel represented by and relate to a celebrity - just do not lose sight of the fact that what you’re feeling is personal feeling on your own end. It’s not something that this celebrity has actually built with you.

To put this another way: it is fine to headcanon fictional characters, but it’s not okay to headcanon real people.

Now, what I’m building up to here is that there are a lot of assumptions I am seeing - from both sides - that we cannot truly know because all we know is what Harry [or anyone] chooses to share with us. I’d like to break this down by going through some specific points.

at first i was against calling harry trans because i thought it was wrong

Okay, there are two sides to this.

1) It is wrong to apply a gender label/descriptor to someone without their permission.

2) In a cisnormative society, “cis” is the default gender label/descriptor to apply to everyone, and that’s equally wrong, so I get why it feels like a rebellion of the system to go “well, there are Reasons they could be trans, so I’m just going to go ahead and call them trans”.

We should get away from automatically labeling everyone as “cis”. However, the way we fix this isn’t to just decide we get to apply whatever label/descriptor to someone we want.

If someone hasn’t clarified or specified their gender (and you can’t/it isn’t a good or safe idea to ask them), it’s the safest bet to go by what they seem to be majority being called or what you can find of them referring to themself as.

In some cases, when someone seems to be specifically avoiding labeling themselves or uncomfortable with labeling themselves, it may be most comfortable for you to also avoid labeling them just as much as possible.

being ok with his friends referring to him with she/her, miss, ‘sue’ instead of ‘harry’, and sis; his obsession with babies and especially wanting to get pregnant; relating himself only to female artists; etc.)

It’s worth considering - is this something for friends only? Or is it open to fans and other public sectors?

Usually if something is for friends only, it’ll be kept out of public eye, but if only friends are doing this, is this something that is only being shared with you or is it something you’re entitled to as well?

Aaaaaaaaalso, it has to be pointed out that it’s binarist and cisnormative in it’s own way to equate different names/pronouns automatically with being trans or being a specific trans identity. Wanting to get pregnant? Do you know how many cis women I’ve heard go on and on about wanting a penis so they can pee standing up (like... all of them anytime we’re outside or camping)? Plenty of cis people use pronouns you might not expect! You don’t have to be trans/nonbinary to use multiple or ‘atypical’ pronouns. Cis people are allowed to use other pronouns as well! They’re allowed to have names typically associated with other genders! Not all gender nonconforming or genderqueer people/people queering gender are trans! Not everybody exploring their gender nor gender presentation is trans!

not to assume he’s cis as he never specified that

It’s great to not assume someone is cis! But that doesn’t automatically make them trans.

i don’t want to misgender anyone but i don’t understand why relating to someone who, from their actions, could be part of the community is wrong.

Do you specifically, absolutely need to gender someone in order to relate to them?

i don’t understand why people keep shutting down the idea the harry could be trans when he never said he was cis and was ok being referred to as she.

I’ve only recently seen a tiny bit of this ‘discourse’ around on twitter, but what I see is a few issues/points:

A) It’s not up to us to claim someone as trans if they have not come out as trans. Coming out is an extremely personal choice and should be up to each individual. “Claiming” them is basically dragging them into something that very well may be not theirs. And if it is theirs, why would you want to steal that moment of getting to determine and declare that away from them?

B) We are all so done with cis, able-bodied white folk being prioritized above the rest of the queer community!!! There are actual, legitimate, out trans people that can be your trans role models and they’re being shoved to the back of the closet in favor of a privileged, white Schrödinger’s Trans. Let’s uplift our actual community instead of getting stuck on someone who may or may not be a part of community - and may not even want to be a part of it!

All that being said, I do want to say something really quickly on Harry himself because it ties back into the assumptions we’ve been talking about. Harry’s sexuality has long been a question on fans and journalists minds, and Harry has pretty consistently made it clear that he’s not really interested in labels or boxes. Harry’s gender is not something that has been asked about, talked about, or answered on much. And his comment on masculinity and femininity? Let’s remember that, like pronouns, masculinity and femininity don’t automatically or inherently relate to one specific gender or not. And, quite frankly, it is faucet of toxic masculinity and cissexism to equate a gnc man/man in a dress with being trans. Men are allowed to wear dresses and makeup and heels! Men are allowed to be soft and nurturing and to cry! Cis or trans, men are allowed to be these things, and arguing that they’re trans simply for doing or being any of these does continue to enforce dangerous and strict views of the gender binary.

Okay, it feels like I kinda put you through the wringer, so I want to go back and reiterate: it is 100% valid to relate to and feel connected to/inspired by someone on the basis of their presentation and gender exploration. It is not valid to claim ownership over their identity because of this. It is possible for two people to experience same or similar things and yet come to different conclusions about themselves!

If Harry Styles as an icon is important to you, I’m glad you can have that! But not everyone will or has to share your connection, and the only one actually qualified to speak on Harry’s gender is Harry himself. Harry could be trans, but it’s his right and his right only to claim that label. Any assuming we do is just that: an assumption. And I want you to be careful with your own feelings getting too attached to the image of Harry you’ve built up in your own head only to potentially have them shattered if Harry decides to speak on things and it turns out his feelings don’t mean what you thought.

Your identity is valid regardless of how Harry Styles feels or identifies. You feeling validated and seen and represented by Harry’s actions is valid regardless of how Harry Styles feels or identifies. It’s great to have role models and be inspired by people, but remember that at the end of the day, you need to be able to rely on yourself to keep up your ego and determine your sense of self.

~Pluto

[thekitteninlove]

I want to start with a disclaimer that applies to all my fanfics.

BDSM has always been seen in a bad light, and i want to clear some misunderstandings. Any impact play (spanking, whipping, etc) should always be consensual and never send you to the hospital or leave bruises. It is also highly recommended to only spank the thighs or butt because they have the most protective fat and muscle. You must understand that this is just a game, there's no 'beating' or anything like that and i don't want to encourage any sort of violence by this, which is why i'm saying this. It's hard to explain it. It's like in a movie when 2 people are fighting. To the observer it looks like they're harming each other, but irl they're just acting. It's just an act. The damage taken isn't anywhere as bad as it seems.

Want a scientific explanation? Here it is. When the butt, for example, is spanked it stimulates the skin’s nerve receptors and can trigger the release of feel-good endorphins and the neurotransmitter dopamine.

Okay, now, so i'm participating in the kinktober event, but i combined more kink prompts from @xxsycamore 's list. They are: temperature play, sensory deprivation and begging. From the dialogue list i did 25. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stay awake anymore. Maybe after that too.” At first i planned to only do day 30, but then i thought that temperature play would go well with sensory deprivation, so i wrote this. This takes place in Oliver's route, which i did last year, so i don't remember too much from it. It's when they try to escape from the Magic Tower only for Dalim and the other disciples to stop them midway. This is what would've happened if Oliver and the MC hadn't been able to escape from them.

Characters: Dalim Tweedle, Oliver appears only at the beginning

Warning: smut, bondage, sensory deprivation, temperature play, begging

Title: Dalim's doll

I was at a crossroads. Either I could just run away or become Dalim’s doll to save Oliver. I didn’t want to abandon Oliver because that’d be an awful thing to do, but I didn’t want to become that disciple’s plaything either. I didn’t even know him. But I couldn’t see any other way around it. There was a large group of magic disciples clad in black robes right in front of me who were like a pack of wolves ready to attack at any given moment. There was no way I could defeat them all by myself, so I chose what I thought was the best option at that time.

“Alright. I agree to become your doll, Dalim” I could see Oliver’s eyes widen in shock, while Dalim seemed quite pleased by my decision. “On the condition that you won’t harm Oliver in any way” I added hastily to remind him of the promise he made. Oliver tried to put on a fight, but since it was daytime he didn’t have much strength because he was in his child form, so in the end he was taken away by the disciples. I was left alone with Dalim, who seemed to be their leader since they all obeyed his orders. While I followed him through the forest back to the tower I mulled over the decision that I made. I believed it was the best choice, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. Who knows what he had in store for me? I started to get nervous as I walked through the dimply lit hallways of the tower. I was worried that they might want to use me in their crazy experiments, so at this point I began to rethink my choices. But before I could come up with any escape plan, Dalim stopped in front of a door and said “Since I tend to stay here more than the other disciples I was given this room to use it for resting”. Once he opened the door he invited me in. It wasn’t too small, but it wasn’t big either. It looked just like a bedroom, with one double bed in the right corner of the room and a nightstand besides it. On the left side of the room there was a closet and some bookshelves. I think there was also a window, but any light coming from it was blocked by a large drape with the symbol of the tower on it, so the room was, just like the hallway, dimly lit by some magic crystals embedded in the wall.

“This will be your new room. I hope you like it” I heard him say.

As I turned to him to ask him about his plans he pulled his hood off and I gasped in surprise. I recognized him. He was the barkeeper I met at a pub in the Central Quarter. Relief flooded me as I realized I at least haven’t given myself to a complete stranger and that Dalim wasn’t as bad as he seemed to be.

“You shouldn’t drop your guard around me, princess. You don’t know me as well as you think you do” he warned me, but that didn’t convince me that he was the villain he pretended to be. To begin with, I’ve talked with some of the girls that knew him and all said only good things about him. The only bad things I’ve heard people say about him was that he was a whore who stole their partners away from them.

“You say that, but I’ve heard about how well you treat the ladies, so it’s kinda hard to believe you’re that bad” as soon as I said that a grin spread over his face.

“Oh, so you won’t believe me? Don’t say I didn’t warn you” he said as he drew near me. “Ever since I first saw you in my tavern I wanted to touch you, to feel how smooth your skin was under my hands” his heated look along with his words made me realize how much he wanted me. “But that man stopped me and I had to hold back” as he said that he slowly made his way behind my back. “I’ve waited so long for a chance to make a move on you without being interrupted” he put his hands around me from behind. “And now I finally got you where I wanted”. I heard him say that in a low voice right next to my ear, which sent a tingling sensation down my spine. “You’re my doll now, so I’m going to play with you to my heart’s content”

I saw him bring a blindfold to my face and tie it up around my eyes. “This should make things a bit more interesting” I heard his voice come from behind me. I let out a yelp of surprise when I felt him lift me up in his arms. “Relax, my lady. As long as you’re being a good girl and listen to me I won’t do anything bad to you”. I then felt something soft under me as he put me down on what was most likely the bed. He brought my hands over my head and bound them to the bed with what I think were a pair of fluffy handcuffs before I felt the bed shift a little as he sat down next to me.

“Why are you tying me up?” I was a bit tense since I didn’t know what was he planning to do to me.

“I just don’t want my doll moving around too much while I play with her” his reply was a bit too vague for my liking, but I decided to just wait and see what his plans with me were. He didn’t sound like he wanted to divulge too much.

As he began to unbutton my shirt I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety form within me. “My Lord said he wanted to play with you too” I heard him say all of a sudden, “but I don’t share my dolls, so I convinced him to find another toy” his words brought me some relief. I didn’t want to experience real torture. As if he knew what I was feeling he continued saying “So don’t worry, princess, I won’t let anyone else lay even a finger on you.” His face must’ve been quite close to my neck because I could feel him breathe on it. “You’re mine now” I heard him say before he pressed his lips against my neck, eliciting a soft sigh from me. Since I was blindfolded and couldn’t use one of my senses, the other senses were heightened, so every touch and kiss I felt on my body was more gratifying than usual and I soon started wanting more. I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel this way towards my enemy, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted him. So much. And he seemed to want me just as much because his hands were hungrily roaming my body, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “Ah, I finally got my hands on you, princess, and I won’t let you go.” His words were filled with desire. “I doubt you can even imagine how much I’ve been craving you all this time” He paused to place another kiss on my neck. “but I can give you a hint”. He pressed his hips against mine so I could feel how hard he was for me even through our clothes and I let out a sigh of pleasure as he began rubbing against me. Knowing that he desired me so much was quite arousing and being bound and unable to do anything but submit to him and let him do whatever his dirty mind came up with was even more arousing. I was enjoying this too much, but I couldn’t stop myself from feeling like this either.

The way he was touching me and his movements were driving me crazy. I was supposed to hate my enemy, yet here I was… craving him.

“I can tell that you’re enjoying this, my lady, but I still want you to say it. I want to hear you beg for it”

Dammit, I didn’t want him to know how much of an effect he had on me, but now that he knows… no, I won’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg. Why should i?

There was a moment of silence while he waited for me to say something, but when he realized that I wasn’t going to say anything he said in an almost amused voice “Hmm, so you don’t want to do that? Fine then, I can just play with you until you do”

Play!? But I’m in no mood for playing right now! Is what I wanted to say, but I knew he wouldn’t listen, so I kept silent

His hands kept sliding over my body, gradually warming me up. “Your skin is so soft, I can’t keep my hands off you” there was a brief pause before he added “Actually, I think you got too warm. I need to cool you off. Luckily, I have some cold water with some ice cubes in it nearby, so I’ll use that”

I felt him move on the bed to get the glass of water. I gasped when I felt a few drops of cold water land on my neck. “Uh-oh, was that too cold? I’ll warm you back up a bit then” I then felt something warm and wet on my neck as he ran his tongue on my cooled off skin, making me sigh contentedly. He kept playing with my senses like this for a while, pouring a few drops of cold water on me, then warming me with his mouth. Sometimes he’d blow some warm air on me to tease me before using his tongue to stir the fire within me. Once he got rid of my clothes I felt too exposed, so I wanted to cover myself with something, but since my hands were cuffed all I could do was close my legs

“Oh, you’re feeling bashful now, my lady?” I heard Dalim’s mischievous voice come from above me, while he managed to slip one hand between my legs and rub his fingers over my entrance. “But you’re so hot over here, don’t you want me to pour some cold water over this hot mess?”

The way he moved his hand over that spot was so arousing I unintentionally let out a moan.

“Come on, princess, I know you want to”. He used both of his hands to spread my legs and I didn’t put up much of a resistance. As soon as he did that I felt a few drops of cold liquid run down my pussy.

“If you’re a bad girl and don’t stay still I’ll have to use the rope to tie you up until you won’t be able to move even an inch, so you better stay like this” there was a warning tone in his voice that had a strange effect on me. Instead of making me afraid of him, it made me even more aroused.

After he poured some cold water on me, he pressed against that area what was most likely the tip of his cock, then he rubbed the length of it over it. “Do you feel how much I want you?” his voice was quite husky now. “I can hardly hold myself back from going all out on you, but I want to hear you beg for it”

He kept rubbing himself against me, stopping only to pour some cold water on my sweet spot before resuming what he was doing. I didn’t want to yield to him, but I was about to reach my limit and there was no way I could escape from this difficult situation I put myself in. His movements made me so hot and wet for him I couldn’t contain myself any longer and said “Ravish me already”. I made a sound of surprise when I felt a sting on my butt as he spanked me.

“That can’t even be called begging” he sounded slightly annoyed, but not too much. “I said beg”

Dammit, fine then.He made me crave him so much that I finally gave in to him and said “please fuck me. I need to feel you inside me”

“Yes, you finally said it” He seemed quite satisfied by this as he pushed himself inside me, eliciting a sound of delight from me. As he began moving I heard him say in a low voice “Oh, it feels so good… mmmh, I’m going to completely lose my control”

I could tell he was trying to control his movements, but after a while he lost it as he began going faster at an erratic pace. Seeing that his desire for me was so strong he’d lose control made me even more aroused. I hoped the others weren’t able to hear us, but with how loud I was moaning, I doubted that they couldn’t hear it. I don’t think he’s supposed to do such things in his workplace, but then again he’s in a high position, so maybe he tends to get off scot-free for doing such things.

Waves of delightful sensations coursed through me as he went all out on me and I tightly gripped the bed frame to which I was cuffed. His hands were on my hips making sure I was staying as still as possible. I couldn’t see anything since I had the blindfold on, so my mind was focused on the naughty things he was doing to me. The pleasure had been quickly building up inside me until it reached its peak intensity as I came under him.

After he calmed down a bit he took off my blindfold laid right next to me. Since I couldn’t move much because of the handcuffs I just turned my head towards him to see his beautiful dark grey eyes staring intently at me. We were still breathing hard after that passionate love making session and I was still trying to regain my composure.

Dalim broke the silence when he asked “Why did you sacrifice yourself to save that man? Is he that important to you?”

Sacrifice myself? Oh, he must be talking about how I offered myself to be his doll in exchange for Oliver’s safety. That man better thank me. “Well, he’s just a friend, but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave him there, in the hands of the bad guys. If something bad were to happen to him because I ran away it’d be partly my fault”

Dalim sounded a bit confused as he said “That can’t be. The blame would only fall on the ones who do the deed, not on anyone else”

“You’ve got a point, but… what I’d be thinking is ‘if only I’d stayed there and negotiated somehow then this wouldn’t have happened’. You know what I mean?”

“I guess. I still think you shouldn’t feel guilty about that though”

He didn’t seem to get it, but that didn’t matter. His hands were back on my body before he said “I can see you care about him more than I would like you to and it makes me jealous”

More than he’d like me to? What does he mean by that? I wondered, but I didn’t have time to think about the answer because my mind got distracted when he moved his hips back on mine.

“Ready for round two, my lady?”

“Huh? Already?”

He gave me a grin and said “You’re my doll now, remember? I’m going to use your body for my own pleasure just like I would with a sex doll. So I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stay awake anymore. Maybe after that too.”

He began moving again and all I could do was moan at how good he was making me feel. He kept doing naughty things to me for hours until it was time for him to report to his lord. Then he made sure I had everything I needed, which was quite thoughtful of him, before heading off to do his job. I was quite tired after all the things he did to me, so I quickly fell asleep after he left, feeling relieved that the deal I made with him didn’t turn out to be as bad as I thought it’d be.

[twentytarot]

hello, hello! honestly, i never thought the day would come where i had enough traction on my blog to warrant a rules page, so firstly: thank you! thank you all for coming on this journey of learning about tarot with me. i’m so happy that i’ve been able to make PACs that resonate with you and that you’ve been willing to support me. that being said, with more traction comes more people, and with more people comes more funky asks. since i haven’t made it clear in a formal page till now, i won’t blame these people, but i hope that after i clear everything up, this won’t happen anymore. so, onto the faq/rules.

CURRENTLY: making the next pac!!

NEXT PAC: send suggestions!

PAC idea! future spouse—

thanks, but i am pretty much not going to do any further future spouse readings, for three main reasons. one, i think we owe it to the people that will matter most to figure them out on their terms. two, fs and sm readings are the biggest offenders in leading to people becoming obsessed with a person/concept, so i cannot condone it. three, people sometimes don’t get married, people get two spouses, and it doesn’t quite make sense that these readings are only for people who will have one spouse, especially when we ourselves don’t even know what will happen in the future.

do you do personal readings?

no. i have never offered to, and i likely never will.

but i swear i saw you reply to someone the other time...

yeah, you probably did. when this blog first started out, i responded to basically every ask since i really didn’t have any. i’ve gotten increasingly stricter about this rule over the last two months. that being said, i never responded with any spiritual or intuitive reading. i have always been open to giving practical advice to anyone who needs it, but not in the form of tarot readings.

practical advice? what?

above my intuition i am a university student preparing to work in finance. i took exams, applied for jobs, i failed some, i aced some. i got pissed at my boss, got mad at myself, worked till 3am for something that should’ve been inconsequential. i worried about my love life, had crushes, barely escaped heartbreaks and trusted the wrong people, just like many of you were, are, or will be. my practical advice comes from a place of “i’ve been there”, not from tarot. 

basically, my inbox and DMs are always open for someone who needs a listening ear or advice, but not for people who want predictions or for me to guess what their lives are like.

why not though??

one: time and energy. when i’m busy, i barely have enough time to do PACs as it is. i am not the kind of person to force myself to portion out time for tarot. my cards would get pissed at me for it anyway. two: i haven’t been reading tarot all that long, honestly. i have quite a ways to go before i can read consistently and precisely for people i have never met, who are in situations vastly different from mine.

what about paid readings, then?

nope.

interpretation help, perhaps?

maybe? at least 2 cards and nothing beyond a celtic cross, and i’ll probably respond.

okay, what about...

dunno, but shoot me an ask or DM, and i’ll let you know my feelings on it. i only delete asks when they get repetitive.

what’s your PAC schedule?

sorry, but it’s always work first, PACs second for me, so i can’t have a schedule. i try my best, but there are periods of time like midterms, finals or presentation weeks where i will drop off for 2-6 weeks to get stuff done.

if you’re curious about me, then hi! i’m ella, pronouns are she/her. full disclosure, that’s not my real name, it ended up being my alias because my friend was saying i have disney vibes. irl i am a computer science and data science student, but at home i’m basically a 24/7 software technician. i don’t mind though, i find coding fun, even after having to do it for work. outside of responsibilities, i’m pretty into kpop and taylor swift (basic, i know right). i can sing a little, dance a little and play some instruments, but nowadays i only perform for my mirror in the middle of the night. 

i started my occult journey learning about astrology when i was 14. i wasn’t terribly invested, however, until i was introduced to my family’s occult line when i was 18. i simultaneously began picking up tarot and oracle cards, and it’s been about two odd years since i’ve been doing card readings. i’m still pretty new to all of this, but i hope you will find the answers and advice you need here at twentytarot!

legal disclaimer: my readings are made in good faith for entertainment purposes only.

[cosplayinamerica]

Princess Daisy : pencils_and_pincushions // photo: that_fedora_photographer

I’m a Canadian cosplayer who has been cosplaying since 2007. I’ve had a love for Victorian fashion since I very young age (my little kid brain basically made the connection that Victorian dresses = women dressing like Disney princesses IRL), but the thing that kickstarted my desire to learn sewing was going to a fabric store with my mother when I was in my senior year of high school and seeing a Butterick pattern catalogue that had Victorian-inspired costumes. Almost instantly I had a lightbulb moment that if I learned to sew, I could actually wear those big fancy gowns I loved.   

I entered university and, over the next few years, spent my free time reading and learning everything I could about sewing. In 2007, my best friend invited me to Anime North - she was going as a gothic lolita-inspired version of the Queen of Hearts, so I decided I would make a Mad Hatter to accompany her.

I was so excited that I jumped in completely head-first, and it ended up being my first foray into both sewing and pattern drafting. In hindsight it was wildly ambitious for a first project (and I’m still a little surprised that I actually pulled it off!), but I’m so glad that my enthusiasm made me persevere and psh through the challenges, because I learned a ton from that experience and ended up with a cosplay I was thrilled with.

I remember seeing myself in the mirror the first time and being so happy when I realized I’d been able to bring something to life from my imagination. When my friend and I got to the con, things only got better from there - the atmosphere was so energetic and colourful thanks to all the amazing cosplays, and it was filled with so many fun, enthusiastic, and friendly people. From that day I was officially hooked on cosplay.

I’m part of the Toronto Steampunk Society and, each year at Fan Expo Canada, we hold an Annual Costume Challenge where we pick a theme and encourage people to make a costume based on the theme. A couple of years ago, the theme was ‘steampunk video game characters’ and one of my friends in the TSS, Modern Myths Cosplay, thought it would be cute to do Princess Peach and Princess Daisy.

I loved the idea and, after more discussion, we decided to do a steampunk twist on the Super Smash Bros Brawl version since it was fancier and seemed to lend itself well to a steampunk interpretation. Though Daisy isn’t officially in Brawl, my friend was fortunately able to dig up some fan edits of Peach in Daisy’s colours, so with that we were set.

I usually make my outfits myself, but since my friend and I wanted to ensure our cosplays matched, we decided to work collaboratively and divide things: I would create the bodices and accessories for both gowns, and she would create the skirts and crinolines.

I started off by drafting the base bodice patterns. Since I draft all my costumes, I used my existing bodice block/master patterns for myself and drafted a bodice block from scratch for my friend based on her measurements. One neat thing about working this way was that it basically turned into a girls’ weekend where I was able to teach my friend more about pattern drafting, which ended up making the process unexpectedly fun and memorable.

After I finished fitting my friend’s bodice block, I got to work drafting our bodice patterns based on the reference pics we had collected. Being able to tackle both bodices ended up working well since it enabled me to draft them in a way that made them visually match identical while taking our respective body shapes into account.

A couple of mockups and fittings later, we had an idea of how much fabric we needed, so we went fabric shopping. My friend suggested that we go with richer, more regal-looking tones instead of strictly game-accurate colours, so when we found a place selling gorgeous peau de soie and sparkle organza, I was instantly sold on a gold and burnt orange colour scheme.

We split the fabric based on our respective portions and worked on them separately. I cut and sewed the bodices, which was fairly straight forward but time-consuming! The part that sticks in my mind the most was the center front panel because it had so many pieces and layers - two types of satin, two types of organza (including one that had to be ruched to the base panel in multiple places), five rows of lace, interfacing...and that doesn’t even include the lining!

I also created our jewelry and crowns. The brooches and earrings were made from filigree settings that I painted, glued gems, and attached pin backs and earring hooks to, and the crowns are made from craft foam painted in gold acrylic, with embellishments assembled from painted filigree stampings and gems.

My friend created our cage skirts from 1/4 PEX pipe and brown grosgrain ribbon, which ended up being the perfect hoop skirt material since it was cheap, lightweight, and strong enough to support the huge, heavy skirts. She cut and sewed our skirts (including attaching meters and meters of trim that I’d painted white to better match the game colours) and she also made our bloomers.

The gowns were a huge undertaking and, thanks to work and general real life eating up time, we did end up engaging in the dreaded con crunch, but fortunately in the end we were able to get them to a state where they were pretty and wearable!

The response at the convention was absolutely amazing - I don’t think I’ve ever had a costume elicit the reactions that Princess Daisy did. We figured that, since we were cosplaying the princesses from Mario, there was a good chance we might be recognized, but the thing I wasn’t prepared for was how genuinely happy and excited people were, especially when they saw us together. We literally had kids waving at us from across the street when they spotted us.

Even grown-ups loved it - we were frequently stopped for pictures, and even a couple of the folks in the dealer’s room who were running booths would break into huge smiles and ask for pictures. Plus, people loved the steampunk twist and were delighted when they realized how much our costumes matched.

The best, most heartwarming response to my Princess Daisy cosplay happened when I met up with some other friends and one tapped me on the shoulder, pointed behind me and said, “I think she wants a picture with the princess.” I turned around and, standing a few feet away, was this adorable, super shy little black girl who was staring in my direction. My heart instantly melted and I went over to her and had a little chat and took a picture with her.

As a black cosplayer who has run several panels on BIPOC cosplay and spoken about the importance of diversity and representation in cosplay, being able to show that sweet little girl that someone who looks like her can be a princess - and showing kids of other races that Princess Daisy can be black - was a vivid reminder that representation does matter.

Since I got into the hobby, cosplay has been a big part of my life and has positively impacted me in so many ways. It has been an incredible creative outlet that has given me the chance to express myself, and it has allowed me to meet so many wonderful people - many of whom are now among my closest friends. However, I think one of the most rewarding things about cosplay has been how it has allowed me to provide BIPOC cosplay representation and visibility within my local cosplay community. I often do Afro-steampunk cosplay, and one of the most unexpectedly moving things I’ve experienced has been other BIPOC saying to me that seeing my outfits make them feel like they can cosplay.

It has been humbling and has motivated me to get more involved in the cons I attend. For the past several years I’ve run panels on diversity in cosplay/steampunk as well as sewing and cosplay construction, which has enabled me to share the knowledge and skills I’ve learned. I also lead the steampunk section of the Anime North Fashion Show, and I’ve made a point to recruit as diverse a roster of models as possible. I’m happy that we’ve been able to showcase steampunk looks inspired by various cultures including Chinese, Indian, and Morrocan.

Another plus is that the sewing skills I’ve learned from cosplay have come in handy in other areas of my life. It has been fun - and surprisingly empowering - to be at a point where I can use my sewing ability to create one-of-a-kind outfits for formal work events (like office holiday parties) that make me feel pretty and confident.

Something I’ve frequently mentioned during my BIPOC cosplay/steampunk panels is that the simple act of showing up to a con or event in cosplay can have an impact because you never know how much that visibility can inspire other BIPOC to get into the hobby, so my advice to anyone wanting to get into cosplay is to do it! Overall I have found it to be a fun, creative, energizing experience.

While I’ve been extremely fortunate to have had overwhelmingly positive experiences while cosplaying, I recognize that, unfortunately, BIPOC do sometimes face harassment and outright racist comments (especially online) that can make getting into the hobby seem scary. Finding welcoming, supportive spaces in person and online can be a big help (the POC Cosplay group on Facebook is great for this) - plus, thanks to things like #28DaysOfBlackCosplay, there is more visibility and inspiration out there than ever before.

The other thing I’d add is to treat each cosplay as a learning experience. Being able to work so closely with my friend on creating a cosplay was a completely different creation process than I’m used to, and it was really cool to be able to learn from each other’s different working styles and experience. It was great to teach her pattern drafting and see how happy she was to learn skills she could apply to future cosplays, and I was so excited when she showed me her PEX pipe hoop skirt method. Looking back on my Princess Daisy cosplay makes me smile because it’s almost like a physical representation of the fun we have cosplaying together.

[radical-brownie]

Are you friends with any TIMs or TIFs? Are they really that crazy?

Oh I’m friends with a few TIFs, and I’ve dealt with my fair share of TIMs as well

My friends aren’t very unpleasant people or else I wouldn’t be friends with them, in fact the majority of them were people I knew before they identified as transgender. So it was more like watching them slowly descend into gender madness, but they’re aware of my ideas too so if we weren’t friends from before they probably wouldn’t have stuck around. It’s something we joke about occasionally, just having rapidly different views and all. I know they’d never want to speak to me about their gender troubles considering I wouldn’t nearly give them as much validation as their other friends which although makes me feel a tiny bit sad that I can’t be for them with All of their struggles, but its better than me feeding into something which I know may be harmful to them or be a harmful mindset.

TIFs in general (including my friends) all have had either a large amount of internalized misogyny and this immediately reflects in the way they treat or perceive other women after becoming more masculine or “passing” better, or have had something happen to them (whether online or irl) which made them feel like they were never women at all, this doesn’t apply to all of them (just my personal observation)

I’m sure there are some transmascs who are just enjoying the idea of being a man and not hurting anyone (other than themselves i assume?) but yeah, the ones without dysphoria annoy me the most because its really just them running away from the idea of being a woman at all, or those “trans people can be gnc!” posts, those just get me confused on what they even want.

Some TIFs will go through a “not like other girls” phase, which trans ideology eats up like breakfast, and so they decide they’re not a girl at all, or because of the internet, majority of the girls i meet who end up being groomed, flirted with by someone they weren’t interested in, or even sexualized (irl or online doesn’t matter in this instance since it happens in both), they try to escape that they’re a target.

I don’t talk about myself much but I struggle with dysphoria a lot, and before I found radical feminism, I thought I was trans for wanting to escape all my internal thoughts of how a woman should be that were put in my head by the people around me, (being a brown muslim girl specifically didn’t help) and I thought I was somehow different for not enjoying femininity and not liking my body and not wanting to be a baby making machine (since the only women in my life seemed so content with knowing thats all they were supposed to be) but this community really opened my eyes and gave me the courage to realize that I was never different.

Now, I’ve dealt with TIMs, and they really are just as bad as they say. The first one I met was really just role playing as an anime girl whenever he spoke, he had some trauma with his dad which I assume put some ideas of toxic masculinity in his head so thats why he decided he wasn’t a man at all?? Idk i didn’t ask very well but talking to him was extremely uncomfortable. The funniest thing I remember is that he would act so “submissive” to appear more “feminine” with his little stutters in texts and this whole shy persona. And one day I dm’d him and i said “hey, you don’t have to stutter through text, its kind of annoying” (i was 12 at the time mind you, idk how old he was exactly but i think he was 16-18?) and his way of texting immediately changed. He told me to shut the fuck up, and that i had no idea what he had been through and that I shouldn’t comment on anything he does.

Which completely threw me off cause I genuinely thought this guy was supposed to be nice? I didn’t believe for one second that he was a girl with his voice even as a 12 year old on fucking discord but watching him suddenly shift like that was something I remembered later on. I do purposefully avoid TIMs since interacting with them makes my brain fry, I’ve dealt with worse but this was just one mild(?) example, the rest are just misogynistic slurs being thrown at me for speaking up, blatant racism, very defensive behaviour and so on. TIFs are TIMs biggest defenders and I genuinely don’t have any idea why, they say shit like “transmascs have more privilege than transfemmes so check yourself” its hair pulling level stupid.

Thank god I haven’t dealt with anything as crazy as what I’ve seen on radblr but once you’re aware of something you tend to see it everywhere, even in the smallest form, every time I see a trans activism post I’m immediately aware of the extremist lengths a simple instagram post is leading to. Chanting “free2pee” at an lgbt support group isn’t the quirky phrase you think it is, and even if I could answer your question with “oh no, we’re just fear mongering blah blah i love my trans friends” it still wouldn’t dismiss the many other encounters women on radblr have had, they’re in the right for sharing their experiences and boosting the experiences of other women, so my one statement alone shouldn’t exactly be something to fully go off of. You did ask Me this question so yeah I’m just speaking from experience and personal opinion.

[letteredlettered]

Have you ever participated in play-by-post role play? I’ve learned about it recently and have become pretty intrigued - it seems like a fun way to write a little and collaborate with others (esp since writing can feel kind of lonely to me, at times). If u have - how did u find the experience/do u have any recommendations?

I’m not sure what play-by-post is, but if you mean LJ-style roleplay (which has moved entirely to Dreamwidth), then yes. I also participated in just a little roleplay in forums, back when people used forums. I know people rp on Tumblr and Twitter, but I don’t get how.

Writing is not lonely to me; I love being alone. I once tried to write a fic with my BFF  @mydaroga​ using roleplay, but we had some trouble coming up with a plot. I also once tried to write a fic with my dirty old man using roleplay--that was fun, but we never finished. The same thing was true then--it was hard to do plot that way, though feelings and character stuff is very fun. I feel like it would be really fun to do an epistolary novel that way.

(My dirty old man was my first fandom friend, when I was 17, in Jane Austen fandom. She’s called my dirty old man, because I told my mom I had a friend on the internet, and she was very concerned. “People can trick you!” she kept saying. And I told my mom that even if my internet friend was a dirty old man and not an female Argentinean human rights lawyer, they still knew an AWFUL lot about Jane Austen and I would treasure them anyway.) 

I started roleplaying on LJ because of the 2009 Startrek Reboot kinkmeme. People started showing up on the kinkmeme as characters, and I decided to make one, and then my BFF made one, and then we were off to the races. I quickly met some great characters and welcoming people, but I ended up not having a super great time.

I do want to @ @mydaroga one more time, because she still rp’s and has a really great time. She can possibly reblog with some recs and info, if she has time.

Below the cut is some of the problems I had with rp.

The problems started really quick. This was casual roleplay, started on a kinkmeme, without the rules and expectations you might find in more codified LJ/DW roleplay, but I soon found myself in situations where people made pretty strong demands of me. For instance, a player playing Character A and I made a little plan for a cool plot for our characters to address an emergency situation. I came home from work one day to find a Character B (whose player I did not enjoy) VERY UPSET that I had set up a plot and then wasn’t there to play it. I was completely confused because a) I wanted to play this plot with A; we had set it up; it was ours entirely; this B had just seen our little idea and decided it belonged to everyone, since it was happening in a fictional world in which Character B also exists, and due to the place Character B had in canon, the player decided B was in charge. In my mind, there was not “one” world; there were simply many little stories we could play out, which didn’t mean we had to include everyone and didn’t mean anyone else could butt in on our story. b) I had replied to A THAT morning, gone to work for 9 hours, come back, and opened LJ to reply right away. For player B, 9 hours was entirely too long for them to wait, and I did not and cannot understand that. I have a job; I have a life; I am someone who struggles to look at their phone--and at the time, most people didn’t even have smartphones. In fact, one reason I GOT a smartphone was because I was so into rp I wanted to be able to keep up, and that seems an unreasonable price to pay to keep up with rp. Why should I be pressured to rp when I’m doing rl things? This really, really rubbed me the wrong way--and it kept happening.

This kind of casual rp is fraught with people who demand to be a part of your play when you don’t want them, and who demand that you reply quicker than you can or are comfortable with. The reason for this brings me to the other aspect of rp that I struggled with: you’re playing characters who have deep feelings and intense relationships. Sometimes your characters fall in love or have sex or fight or kill each other, and this bleeds into rl feelings far more than any other fandom activity in my experience. Even when you’re writing fic and you become the characters, you get to control the entire situation. In rp, you feel what the characters feel, but you don’t get to control what other characters feel. People’s hearts get broken--sometimes because a relationship in rp feels more real and intense than some of our closest rl relationships, and sometimes because people DO have rl, and when they don’t respond to you, it can be hurtful. Sometimes I played characters who did hurtful things, and I didn’t realize it was hurting the player. Other times, I myself was hurt by someone who didn’t reply to me for days; I was too emotionally invested to deal with a lack in response.

If you’re not doing casual rp, but are using the communities on DW set up for such things, you’ll find some rules that will help address these issues. There’s an expectation for how long you’ll take to reply. There’s clear guidelines about when you can join someone’s storyline, when you have to include someone in your storyline, when you have to leave someone alone, how to tell someone to leave you alone. There’s an understanding about character bleed, and there’s community support to address it and talk about it; there are ways to tell someone you’re feeling emotionally invested in a way that can be hurtful; there are ways to protect yourself.

In the end, however, I find myself unhappy with these communities, as I do with lots of structured community both online and irl. When anyone is allowed to come and do anything they want, you get people who bully others, and no one knows what to do about it; feelings get hurt, and the result is chaos. What seems to be a logical way to deal with this is to create strong guidelines that everyone can agree to and support systems for when something goes wrong--but the sad fact is, as a contrary person, these guidelines often rub me the wrong way, and I often feel excluded by the support systems. I hated having to “apply” to LJ rp communities. I hated having to introduce myself in a codified way. I hated rules such as “there can only be one Commander Spock; if you want to play Spock it has to be a different universe or different age of Spock.”

In the end, I feel I thrive in the liminal space between anarchy and structured communities. Perhaps this is why I have always felt drawn to things that are fringe. I would be very happy to rp again if I could do it casually, but tbh I would probably dip at the first sign of in-fighting.

[sugasugawarau]

200 milestone

This blog hit 200 during my semi-hiatus and I neglected to post this after because I still had matchups for my 100 and the mlist for Table for Two was posted meaning I’m a lil late 😹👍 but I do want to take the time to properly thank each and every one of you for sticking around!! Your support means the world to me I love u all 🥺💕 As a thank you, I’ll be doing matchups again and a lil smth to do with self-ships; read more about and join the event here!

From my previous milestone to now, I’ve also had the amazing opportunity to get to know more people so I want to take the time to thank some of my mutuals since I’m most likely going to be rlly bad at replying to messages and checking up on your posts with school starting up :,) (VERY lengthy hence read more)

— to the biggest lo5ers ik!

@kbh-ton; HAHA I bet you didn’t expect to be called out since you only use Tumblr for reblogging but here we are, bbq sauce on my (.)(.) 😍Just wanted to say that aside from being an amazing friend since grade 4 (except for when you bully me stop trying to kin Tsukishima so hard smh), I am immensely grateful for your support for all the dumb shit I do online and offering your thotz on a lot of my headcanons and other shit too because you’d think witnessing the bs I do irl would be enough to last you a lifetime 😹🤟 Ily and message me on ig or discord when u see this pp

And thanks to my other irl friends Emma (who doesn’t have Tumblr) and Yoshi (who doesn’t watch Haikyuu - lame ik 👎 - but has Tumblr and posts sexc art so check him out but don’t tell him I sent u or anything!! @/ashr00m) for not really knowing what I do here but being supportive nonetheless and inspiring a LOT of my text scenarios and being my best friends or whateveuh 👁👅👁 I’ll text them a proprer thank you in the gc and remind them that I love them too because it’s soft on main hrs too apparently 🙀

— to my wifeys (poly 🥰)

@tendouthighs; Codie, you were my first friend on tumblr and I want to take the time to thank you for posting that you were open to making friends here because without that I might not have ever gotten the courage to slide into your dms 🙈 You always brighten my day and your text scenarios are EVERYTHING, ily lovely! 💜

@pyblos; Lyra, you’re the Iwaizumi to my Oikawa, my wife in our very extensive reverse harem, and have been one of the most prominent people during my weird tumblr journey. You’ve been here since the early days of my blog and have been a constant source of love and support, I’m so glad to have met you and you’re so talented!! 😚💕(even if u bring out the 🔪 every once in a while HAHA) ilysm bb 🤍

@yeskoushi; Shan my babygork 😻🥺 we may have only started interacting recently but you’re so funny, kind, and talented. Not only is your writing top tier, your entire blog is pretty too just like you (insert the ur so sexy aha ha ha meme face here🥴) Never hesitate to reach out to me okay? Sending you good luck for sch and ily and imy 😿💕

— to my beautiful bbs!

@sneezefiction; Gracie, words can’t begin to describe how beautiful you are inside and out. Ilysm, I’m in awe with all you do - your fics and headcanons always make me soft, as if I’m being enveloped in a warm hug :,)) Thank you for also being here since my blog’s early days and most importantly for being you, and I’m so happy we met 💙

@baeshijima; Sophie!! We’ve only recently started talking as well but ilysm 🥰 I can’t thank you enough for being such a blessing and always remember that you deserve all of the kindness you give out x1000! I hope we get to know each other better and make sure you’re taking care of yourself 🥺💖

@heyhinata; Cal bb we also have only started interacting recently but omg ily and would fight anyone and anything for you, you’re so precious and funny how do you do it 😾💕 I’m vv glad we met and I’m so excited for your future works!!

@astereim; Rein, Mareina supremacy amirite 😼 SHFJAKDJ okay but honestly you’ve been one of the easiest people to talk to right from the start and also your writing is i m m a c u l a t e, I admire your characterization and dialogue sm and ily :,) 💙

@softforsaeko; Joy, ily ❤️ and I still don’t know how you can perfectly embody the word joy. Every time I see you on my dash I let out the most obnoxious cackles because you’re HILARIOUS (Fun fact my irl who has tumblr says that he’s also started immediately thinking of you when he sees Saeko, can’t wait for you guys to get married!!)

@agaassi @visaintes @miki-snake @drabblily @oii-sugasan @lcnelyinthesky @bearri-main @ranojiroa-san @ukaiscigarette @strawberrii-milktea @murdereddaydreams @keichan @bellesowl @fvrcore @noya-sannnn

I was scared to talk in the server when I first joined (I’m a pussy ik 😿) but I can say with confidence that I don’t regret it because I got to meet all of you wonderful and talented people. To everyone I’ve had the chance to talk to, thank you for making me laugh sm and ily!! And to everyone else in the server I haven’t interacted with yet, ilyt you’re all so sweet and I hope to get to know you better in the future 🤍

And thank you to @inloveinc @sa-suga @tsukkiscookies @cherryonigiri @oikawas-wh-re @tsuumu @haijme @honeykaashi @mirajanestrauss1999 @tris-does-stuff @sunnsflower @sleepykarabou @ksyescribe I hope we can to get to know each other better as well, ily, and please make sure you’re taking care of your beautiful + talented selves <3 This all applies to my new mutuals too !!

— to my inspirations!

@90s-belladonna @the-broken-halo-writer @indigohitoshi; Aixa, Corey and Issa, all three of you inspired me to make my own blog with your SMAUs and written works 🥺 I would like to thank you all sm for sharing your works and know that you’re all amazing !!💕

@sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock; Lin and Lola, I’m still dumbfounded that you both follow me tbh LMAO. You were both some of the first haikyuu blogs I followed and you always crack me up with your posts, rlly some of the coolest people on here. I adore you and wishing you the best in everything you do! 🥰

[theasstour]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑���𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓥𝓮𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓫𝔂 𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓸 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲

𝓯𝓲𝓬 𝓹𝓪𝓰𝓮 | 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 21k 𝓝𝓑: 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮, 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽

A/N: my baby @shepherald... grazie mille my dear one! i’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done for bb, and i’ll never be able to put into words how much you mean to me! i love you so much! thank you!

A/N2: so, this is it! last chapter of bb! it honestly doesn’t seem real, and i’m so sad i have to let painter!harry go cos i’ve grown quite fond of him the year i’ve spent thinking about him and this fic! what bb represents is what makes this fic so special to me. i - a plus size woman - never felt like i belonged anywhere. i assumed i was unloveable from never seeing a bigger person like myself in a book or a film where that person was deemed attractive. they were always the clown, or ‘the fat character’, or their entire storyline was based around them needing to lose weight. i’ve gotten pretty fucking tired of never seeing myself represented properly in fiction or irl or ANYWHERE for that matter, so i decided to take matters into my own hands, and i cannot begin to tell you how LIBERATING and AMAZING it felt! to each person who reached out to me saying bb made them confident, made them feel like they weren’t alone, opened their eyes to what life as a bigger person is: i love you all. this is the exact reason why i wrote bb. fat doesn’t equal ugly, it doesn’t equal unloveable, it doesn’t equal any negatively charged words. fat equals beautiful, it equals human. and anyone who ever tries to tell you otherwise can choke lmao. enjoy this last instalment of bb, i love you all so much x

Sunday, 1 March 2020

Y/N had always thought that the biggest changes were those you didn’t pay immediate notice to. Like the changing of the seasons, aging on your birthday, when the clock struck 12 and a new day began. Changes that were caused by time; that could not be prevented. Loads of changes couldn’t be prevented, but it was impossible to escape time. Manmade to make life simpler to live, and yet it’s what kills us in the end. However, Y/N had come to learn that some changes – the biggest and worst of them all – pained you so much, they didn’t fully leave your body. Like a volcanic eruption, they’d come every now and again, but would leave you scorched and burning for days. She chose not to think about those changes.

But it was hard when she was out shopping with her younger sister and said younger sister would not stop bloody chattering. The first day of spring had brought nothing but clouds and the occasional fall of some rain. Y/N wasn’t impressed. Wasn’t a new season supposed to bring something else? So far it just felt like any other winter day in south England.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Looking up at Portia, it was painfully obvious Y/N hadn’t been paying attention to anything her sister had been saying.

Portia raised her eyebrows. “Are you taking the mick right now?”

“What?!”

“You’re not even listening to what I’ve been saying.” Portia scanned her Oyster card and walked on into Haggerston station, leaving Y/N sighing behind her. Y/N scanned her own card and followed, knowing that her sister would not stop being annoying unless she asked what she’d been talking about. The second she began talking again, she’d forget Y/N wasn’t listening to begin with.

The two were on their way to Victoria Station, Portia was going back home after having stayed with Y/N in her shared flat in Hackney for two weeks, having had some modelling jobs to attend to. And now that she was done, she would be going home to their mother and staying there for a week until she had to come back down to London for some more jobs. Y/N was getting rather sick of her little sister staying with her when she could easily find her own flat, but she figured she’d bring that conversation up another time. A time when she hadn’t pissed her sister off already that day.

“Tia,” Y/N said as they reached the Southbound platform, the windy remnants of the storm that had just been making it freezing to be taking the Overground and wait outside for the next tube to arrive. “What were you saying?”

“Do you even care?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

“This bloke I’ve been going on dates with while I’ve been here, right,” Portia started crossing her arms over her chest as the tube started approaching, knowing that a gust of wind would accompany it. “He’s got this friend that’s been eyeing me up the two times I’ve met him. He’s fit and everything, but I’m seeing Azeem, you know.”

“Tell Azeem his mate makes you feel uncomfortable and he’ll do something about it till next time you meet.”

“But he doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable, that’s the thing.” Portia sighed as the two girls walked up to the yellow line, waiting for the train to stop so they could get on. “I just think it’s annoying.”

“That men find you attractive?”

“That the fit one’s are always the ones I can’t have.”

“Oh, my days, Portia.” Y/N mumbled, getting on the Overground and sitting down in one of the orange and brown seats. Portia sat down next to her, putting her bag on the ground beside her feet.

“What, Y/N?”

“You just sound like a bellend.”

“How?”

Y/N gave her a look.

“How?!”

“’The fit one’s are always the ones I can’t have’? At least you’re dating someone, and they’re interested in you.”

“And Azeem is delicious, but his mate’s got…”

“Got what?”

Portia sighed. “Got nice arms.”

Y/N leaned her head against the wall behind her, it swayed with the moving coach.

“I know it’s not all about looks.”

“It really is not.”

“But I still can’t help myself.”

“You’re such a prick.”

“Don’t be rude.” Portia nudged her sister’s shoulder. “If you’d just go out and date people as well, you’d have the same problems.”

Y/N huffed, looking at Portia. “Doubt it.”

Portia rested one leg on top of the other, examining her nails. “You’re so boring sometimes.”

“Cheers.”

“No,” Portia glanced at Y/N again. “But isn’t it boring to just be sat inside all day?”

“Oh, it’s incredibly boring to get an education.”

Portia rolled her eyes.

“Go out of my mind going to lectures, writing my dissertation, doing other assessments, and applying to thousands of jobs a day.”

Portia crossed her arms, looking ahead.

“So boring.”

“I know you pride yourself on the fact you’re gonna be a vet.”

“Shouldn’t I?”

Portia sighed, refusing to answer. The two kept quiet after that. Y/N knew in order to make Portia shut up, she just had to bring up her education. Portia was fully aware that Y/N was the smartest one out of the two of them – quite frankly, the smartest one in their entire family – and if Y/N rubbed it in, Portia would keep quiet. Reminding her sister how she’d gotten into the University of her dreams and was doing great, was a low blow, Y/N knew that. But at the same time, Portia just pissed her off so much sometimes that she simply could not help herself.

The two got up as they reached their stop at Canada Water, and walked off towards the Jubilee line once the tube doors opened. Portia’s bag kept bumping into Y/N as they walked, and though she would normally tell her to piss off, to keep her bag closer, she didn’t know. Giving Portia a reason to start shouting at her in the middle of a tube station was not ideal. She was mad enough as it was.

They got on the escalator, Y/N was just about to tell Portia what direction to walk in once they reached the bottom since her little sister always forgot, but Portia gasped before Y/N got the chance. Looking up at her sister, Portia’s eyes were wide, a small smile lingering on her lips. She pointed to the digital posters that lined the wall along the escalator, making Y/N look to her right to see what had gotten her sister all excited.

It was the colour that stood out first. She remembered the exact shade of it. The painting stood out second, then the colour of the person’s hair, the shape of their body, the shoes. The landscape, the warm colours. It was her. It was the same day she’d found Viola. The same day Harry had supposedly… No, she couldn’t even finish that thought. She’d tried not to think of him for months now. As they passed another one of the posters, she looked at it again. In white and bold letters, the text on the poster said ‘H. Styles’ exclusive and limited new exhibition. 11:00-18:00. 23rd February – 1st March. Dover Street, Mayfair. £10 admission.’

“Y/N, what the fuck?” Portia said, tapping her finger against the screen multiple times as they passed yet another one of the posters. “What the fuck?”

The exact same statement was going on repeat in Y/N’s head as well. Seeing the painting, seeing herself on that poster, it brought back so incredibly many memories from a time she had tried to forget.

Ever since they had parted ways, Y/N and Harry had only talked on a handful of occasions. They would text one another – very early on, Harry even called her twice (only after making sure the time zones weren’t fucked and she wasn’t asleep) -, and they did so for a long while, but then Harry’s answers got shorter and shorter, and Y/N felt like he might be falling out of love. She didn’t want to ask him in case she was reading too much into things, afraid of what the answer might be. She was still in love with him, would probably be so till the day she died, but she didn’t want to force him to talk to her if he wasn’t feeling it anymore.

As time went on, their text conversations got less frequent, and by Christmas, they weren’t talking at all. Y/N had tried to forget about him, thinking that he might have just viewed what they had as an intense summer romance and that was it. After all, he was a passionate and artistic man, maybe he fell in love with the thought, image, and what she represented to his summer more than her person. It all hurt to think about, which was why she rarely allowed herself to think about him at all. She hadn’t seen him in almost seven months, she was terrified of what that distance had done to them. To his heart. Because hers still longed for his in every way a person could yearn for another. It proved hard living apart from a person whose name you had etched onto the organ that kept you alive.

They reached the bottom of the escalator and the two girls stepped off, Y/N blinking a few extra times because she simply could not hold tears back when she was thinking about Harry. Portia walked beside Y/N, mouth agape.

“Y/N,” she said. “We have to go.”

Y/N sniffled, pretending it was because she’d caught a cold. “Why?”

Portia glanced at her as if she was insane.

“What?”

“Don’t even start, Y/N. We’re going. I need to see those paintings and so do you.” Portia walked onto the Jubilee tube, Y/N following straight after. They held onto a pole, and when Y/N averted her eyes to the advertisement on the walls of the coach, she saw Harry’s poster again. They were everywhere, how hadn’t she noticed them before?

“Dover Street.” Portia said. “Right by Piccadilly, innit?”

“Yeah.”

“Brill, we just jump off at Green Park and walk for like five minutes and we’ll be there.”

Y/N sighed, suddenly feeling like she needed to throw up.

Portia grinned, looking at Y/N. “I’m excited now.”

“Portia, this is a bad idea.”

“It’s a splendid idea.” Portia corrected. “I need to see all the paintings. I’m sure they’re amazing.”

Y/N had never told Portia she hadn’t seen the paintings herself, that Harry hadn’t let her. But then again, there were a lot of things she hadn’t told Portia about last summer and H. Styles. Her heart was beating way faster than normal, she was suddenly sweating. The notion that Harry might be there was overwhelming, that he had probably been in London for a while now but not contacted her made her entire body ache in a way it had never done before. Though Harry being at his own gallery didn’t make sense on any other days than the opening one, Y/N was still sick thinking about meeting him. He wouldn’t be there, but she still was wary of going.

“What’s gotten into you, you look faint.” Portia pointed out, raising her eyebrows.

“I think it’s a really bad idea to go to that exhibition.”

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Portia groaned. “These are paintings of you. You’re literally the star of the whole thing.”

Y/N shrugged.

“Besides, I don’t think we have to pay a tenner since you literally spent all summer with him so he could paint you. Free admission equals ‘why the fuck not’.”

Would Harry even want her there? They hadn’t talked after all; he hadn’t told her he was in London. Maybe he didn’t want her to come see the paintings. Maybe he just wanted her to stay away.

She hated how much she was overthinking this. The last thing she wanted to do was step on Harry’s toes, especially now that they hadn’t spoken in a while. Especially because she loved him and was afraid he didn’t anymore. However, realising the reason she was overthinking in the first place, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was because Harry meant so much to her. Never could she face him now without knowing if he felt the same way about her.

Portia dragged Y/N off at Green Park, walking towards the exit with an excited gleam in her eyes. Y/N’s stomach hurt so much she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to lay down in a foetal position and die. This was all so sudden, so overwhelming. They exited the underground, and as they reached the outside again, the sun was shining and the wind didn’t seem as horrible. It didn’t ease Y/N’s nerves one bit, though.

It took them a total of three minutes to reach Dover Street, and the exhibition was one of the first things that caught Y/N’s eyes. The entire front was made of glass, covered in a baby blue sheet that read ‘H. Styles’ new exclusive exhibition.’ Portia gripped Y/N’s arm, squealing before she looked both ways and crossed the street. Y/N knew Dover Street was known for having numerous contemporary art galleries, but looking down the street, none stood out as much as Harry’s. It was impossible to view any of the paintings through the windows, undoubtedly leaving people wanting to pay the 10 quid to do just that. Y/N was torn between actually wanting to walk inside or sprint back to Hackney.

“Why’re you hesitating? Come on!” Portia took Y/N’s hand and opened the door with the other, forcing Y/N in first.

The reception was dark, absolutely everything covered in black from the floor to the ceiling. There was nothing on the walls, nothing that stood out. But in the middle of the room stood another black wall, covering the proper entrance to the actual exhibition. In front of it stood a reception desk in the same colour, and behind it sat an old man, but he was accompanied by a figure Y/N recognised right away. Portia walked straight up to the desk, a huge smile on her face.

“Good afternoon, miss,” the old man said, smiling right back at her.

“Hi, my sister and I would love to just enter the exhibition, please.”

“20 pounds, then.” Jamie said, standing bent over a pile of papers that they were signing and reading over.

“No, you don’t understand,” Portia started, turning around and beckoning Y/N over. “My sister is a good friend of H. Styles.”

Jamie looked up, their eyes immediately landing on Y/N. And just like that, she was brought right back to last summer and everything Jamie had told Harry on one of her last nights there. So many memories washed over her that it made her a little dizzy. The car rides where she and Jamie would sit in the backseat and discuss animals, life, or anything else that would’ve caught their attention. The other times when they’d wait for Harry to get ready downstairs. She didn’t know how to act. Did she give them a hug? Did she smile? Did she say something? This was exactly why she didn’t want to go.

“Y/N,” Jamie said, standing up straight.

“So you recognise her!” Portia was elated. “Can we just walk on in then?”

Jamie and Y/N didn’t break eye contact, both at a loss for words. It was clear that something went down between them, that there was something unspoken in the air of the reception hall. Y/N looked away, not wanting to have Portia ask her about Jamie once they entered the gallery. She didn’t want to tell her; didn’t want to recount anything from her time in Italy.

“Yeah,” Jamie hastily reached for two brochures, locking eyes with Y/N again as he handed them to her. Portia raised her eyebrows, catching on that something was going on. She looked at Y/N. “Don’t take any photographs, if any of our guards see you do so, you will be asked to leave and pay a fine. Other than that, I hope you enjoy.” Y/N knew they were talking to both her and Portia, but by the look in their eyes, she felt as though they were talking to her alone.

“Thank you very much.” Portia smiled, taking one of the brochures and walking away from them.

Y/N looked at the brochure, just as baby blue as the sheet that had covered the front of the gallery, the same writing on it as well. Her eyes met Jamie’s again, and there was something about the way they glanced at her that was so sad. Somewhere in the wrinkle between their eyebrows Y/N saw an apology of sorts. Regret so deep and intense that she could feel it herself. They didn’t say anything, but Y/N felt the agony; saw something in their eyes that she hadn’t experienced herself, but that they needed her to see. She gave them a small smile before following Portia and walking around the wall behind the reception desk, keeping her eyes on the brochure in her hands.

If meeting Jamie had her shaken up this bad, she didn’t even want to begin to think what an encounter with Harry would bring. The leaflet was shaking in her hand, begging for her to open it. What would it even hold? Copies of the paintings? No, if they weren’t allowed to take pictures inside, why would he have them attached in leaflets for anyone to see?

“Oh, my word.” Portia said, making Y/N look up.

The entrance to the gallery had her halting. Just like everything else, she recognised it right away. All over the wall was a painting she’d seen on her first week last summer; seen on one of her last days when she’d shown it to Harry.

“When I first moved into the flat, I found a painting in this wardrobe.” She pulled it down, taking a glance at the autumn painting depicting a gravel path leading nowhere into darkness. Turning around, she walked back over to the bed, handing the painting to Harry. “That’s only one of like, two of your paintings I’ve really seen, other was one of the sea back in your house. Mind if I ask what inspired this one?”

A projector planted it on the dark surface, welcoming the guests to the gallery. A gravel path leading off far into the dark distance, tall oak trees surrounding it, filled with the rich colours of autumn. Though it was filled with yellow and green, two colours that would normally have positive connotations, Y/N couldn’t help but get quite the opposite vibes staring at it, just like all the other times she’d seen it. There was something about it she couldn’t put her finger on. Like there laid a secret at the end of the path; an explanation in the black of the unknown.

“It’s the drive to my house back in Manchester. The drive up to my childhood home, or… this is facing the other way.” He explained, dragging his finger gently along the gravel path. “It’s what you see when you’re leaving.” He shifted the attention of his finger to the trees of different colours. “Autumn, the dull colours…” he trailed off, as if reliving a memory he’d almost suppressed; something he’d pushed so far into the back of his head it had almost vaporised and disappeared into nothingness. “This was when I left home, when I first moved to London.” He pointed at the darkness at the end of the gravel path. “That’s the end of the road, I couldn’t make it out clearly. My future, I mean. It’s all supposed to represent uncertainty.”

Portia looked over her shoulder at Y/N, squealing. The darkness at the end of the painting was a hallway, a dark corridor that seemed to be leading off into nowhere. Her sister stood there waiting for her, reaching her hand out so they could walk through the darkness together. But Y/N needed to take a moment and just look at the wall, because it was one of the very first of his paintings she’d ever seen, and now she was about to see all of the other paintings he had refused to let her see. Taking a deep breath, she walked forward, took Portia’s hand, and the two walked into the dark hallway. Y/N felt her grip on Portia’s hand tighten for each step they took

“Why didn’t they just put some bloody lights in here?-“

But just as Portia said that, the exhibition was revealed to them. It was black. Dim white lights lit up the room on the walls and ceiling, illuminating the floating balls that were lined up down the room. Looking at the walls first, Y/N realised the light appeared as stars. Dotted along the walls and ceiling, lighting up the room and revealing the huge round objects that appeared to be floating, but was held from the ceiling and the floor by metal poles. The first one was completely dark, and as the two sisters walked on closer, Portia gasped a little.

“Y/N,”

“What?”

“How many planets are there in our Solar System?”

Y/N frowned, but as her eyes met Portia’s she understood immediately. Taking a step to the side, she looked down the room, seeing that there were quite a few others visiting the gallery as well. Harry was an immense painter, after all. Everyone knew who he was. However, Y/N couldn’t focus on the other people in the room with her, she started counting the different sized round objects that were nicely lined.

“Eight.” Y/N answered.

“And how many-“

“-Eight.”

Portia squeezed Y/N’s hand, eyes wide with some kind of realisation. The sisters looked at one another for a minute before Portia opened her mouth to speak again.

“Why the fuck has he done that, Y/N?”

Y/N shook her head. “Dunno.-“

“-You do.” Portia said. “That’s why that person back there looked at you all intense as well, wasn’t it? What happened last summer? You never spoke of it.”

Y/N sighed, closing her eyes. “Portia, it’s… it’s incredibly complicated and… and it’s a long story.”

Portia groaned, clinging to Y/N’s arm. “I don’t care, Y/N. I want to know. For fuck’s sake, look around you,”

Y/N opened her eyes, doing as her sister told her to.

“It’s so painfully obvious, Y/N.”

 Y/N refused to believe it was. She didn’t want to believe that what Portia was insinuating was true, because it would mean the last few months had been for nothing. It would mean the countless hours she’d cried, the times she stopped herself from thinking about him, from yearning for him, from going back to a time spent with him and cursing herself for doing so; it was not worth it. Trying to forget him had meant nothing.

Portia tapped Y/N’s arm, catching her attention. She gestured at the painting they stood in front of, giving Y/N a little smile. Y/N looked at it, and she was immediately taken back to the exact moment of it.

There was a hole in the planet in the shape of the canvas, white light washing over it to reveal it completely to the gallery visitors. Portia opened the catalogue as Y/N studied the painting Harry had never let her view. His first painting of her.

“Miss Sweeney,” Harry said, pointing at the hill. “You-“

“-You can just call me Y/N.”

“You need to stand far away.”

Shocking. But there was no use making that comment. She took her cardigan off, putting it along with her purse in the backseat of the car.

“You will find a tree further down if you just walk straight ahead, it’s got a blue ribbon on it. Stop there with your back facing me. And don’t move until I tell you so.”

As she started walking down the hill, she could feel Harry watching her, studying her every move and every surface of her body. She supposed he wanted to make sure she found the ribbon, as well as to see what he was working with.

An abundance of colours surrounded her; green, grey, yellow, brown. She could barely make out the baby blue dress amongst the nature swallowing her, there was no way of knowing the colour of her hair, the proper colour of her skin, or any of her characteristics. The only thing that stood out was the colour of her dress, but even that wasn’t as prominent as she remembered the colour to be.

“Won’t that smear the paint everywhere?”

Harry looked at her, those two familiar lines appearing between his brows. “How?”

“Shouldn’t it be left to dry or something?”

“It’s dry.”

She frowned back at him. “Already?”

“I finished a while ago, left it to dry for around an hour.”

The memory made her smile some, regardless of how infuriated she remembered being. It was the fact that they had started out like that; polar opposites with absolutely nothing in common. Two people who couldn’t see eye to eye on anything. That fact was easy to note in the first painting, seeing the insignificant role she played in the actual painting. The Tuscan landscape could’ve done fine without her presence in it, she wasn’t even placed in the middle of the painting where nature parted to reveal Fosdinovo, but somewhere to the right of it, in the middle of the trees.

Portia tugged at Y/N’s sleeve, motioning for her to follow her to the next painting behind the first one. It was the same as the first one; a rectangle shaped hole in the dark planet, lights surrounding it to show it off. She smiled again.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Do you see that rock over there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Sit there facing me.”

She knew there was no use saying anything back, so she simply walked over to the rock and sat down like he wanted her to. It wasn’t comfortable to sit on, and she didn’t think she’d be able to sit there for two hours straight. Then again if she decided she needed a break, the painter would undoubtedly show his annoyance in some way. He instructed her to straighten her legs, crossing them at the ankle, leaning back on her hands. He said he wanted her to “be looking directly into the sun.”

“That could literally ruin my eyes.”

“Art goes beyond comfort.”

“I want to be able to see said art.”

Y/N felt like she was transported right back to the moment of the painting, like she could feel, see, smell everything. Though she had known that would probably be the effect once she saw the collection, she hadn’t been aware it would be this intense. The notion Harry had painted these of her; that he had painted them before, during, and after everything happened between them, it struck her. He’d been working on these for so long; she had been a forced part of his life for so long. Maybe that was why they’d stopped talking. He’d gotten tired of her. Gotten enough of her.

The colour of her dress was the same as the previous painting; it stood out, but not in a contrasting way like you thought the colour of baby blue would when surrounded by woods. The white sunlight lit up most of her surroundings, making them blend well with the dress, but then again, she could recall quite clearly how bright the sun had been that day. Though she had hated the heat of the Italian weather in the beginning, towards the end she’d gotten kind of used to it. It was almost cold coming back home to a normal British summer.

Y/N groaned, positioning her head like he wanted her to. “Went to this baker Wednesday.” It just slipped out. She had genuinely not meant to say it, but now that she’d already mentioned it, she might as well go all the way.

Harry didn’t respond.

“Said you were known around town as the grumpy Brit.”

She didn’t see him stop painting, but she could tell he halted a little. “Who said that?”

Trying not to smile as she had somehow managed to capture his attention. “Does it matter?” Y/N didn’t know why people wanted to know what someone else thought of them. It was out of their control. Then again, she supposed, she’d brought it up so it was partly her fault he asked in the first place.

Harry huffed.

“What?”

“Hm?”

“What was the –“ Y/N imitated his exasperated huff.

“Whoever said that,” Harry said, bending down a bit and disappearing completely behind the canvas. “They’re a fucking knobhead.”

Y/N nodded her head, pursing her lips before she clicked her tongue loudly. Harry glanced up. “Great argument.”

It was weird how there had been a time prior to how she was feeling now. That at the time of this painting, she hadn’t been in love with Harry. The hands that had created this artwork hadn’t yet touched her; hadn’t yet loved her. She wanted to reach through the glass that separated the canvas from them; wanted to feel the paint and the memories that came with it.

But Portia was impatient, having already started walking around the planet to the next one. She looked down into the brochure, a furrow to her brows and concentration on her face as she read something on it before taking in the third painting. This was the one Y/N almost remembered best. This was the one that changed her and Harry’s relationship in a way neither of them was made aware of till after. You don’t realise the pivotal moments in your life till after they’ve happened, but as they’re happening, you don’t understand their incredible impact. Harry nor Y/N knew how big of a role Viola would play in their lives. What her presence would do to them.

“Is that a smile I see?” she teased. “You got a rise out of me, and now you’re pleased with yourself?”

He bit his bottom lip, shaking his head without looking away from the painting before him.

“Right then.” Y/N said, eager to get the conversation going again. “What’re you best at? There’s a lot of stuff you can do with gymnastics, innit?”

Harry wasted no time. “Swing bar.”

Y/N’s eyebrows immediately shot upward. Trying to be subtle, she let her eyes fall to his muscular arms, his broad shoulders and the curve of his slight biceps. The tan he’d gotten did wonders to the outline of his muscles. Stop, stop, stop-

“Explains the arms.”

Oh. My. God. Immediately she felt her cheeks heat up. And her blushing got worse when Harry looked up at her. He huffed.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been checking me out.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have not.”

She walked closer, feeling her bottom lip start to wobble as she saw the painting. Harry had depicted the cliff, the ocean, the forest, the atmosphere of that clifftop perfectly. It was exactly as she remembered it. Just looking at it brought her back to finding Viola, to watching Harry pet her to calm her down, the closeness in the back of Gioele’s car. How willing Harry was to help. How good he’d smelled. How hot his skin had been against hers. That was the first time she’d ever seen him smile; first time she’d seen him happy. It was the first time she saw him show compassion; saw him worry. She hadn’t known then, but she knew for certain now, that if Viola hadn’t stepped out of the woods at that second on that day while Harry and Y/N hadn’t been talking, then none of this would’ve happened.

“What?” His voice was a whisper, the small word leaving his lips like a simple puff of air that hit her jaw, sending a storm of goosebumps up and down her back.

“Your…” she started, swallowing thickly before looking down at the cat in her arms. “Your moped.”

“I’ll get it later.”

She hated that he sounded like he wasn’t faced by the close proximity at all.

“What if someone steals your painting?”

Looking up at him, she realised once again how close they were. They might have been close earlier when he helped calm the cat down outside, but this… this was close. She felt his hot breath against her lips, in her nose; felt his eyes on her like there was nowhere else to look in the car; felt everything too much. He was… so handsome. So incredibly good looking. There was undoubtedly sweat along her hairline and cupid bow, but she literally could not reach up to remove it right now. She was unable to move, not only because of the cat, but because of Harry.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/N,” Portia said, pointing at the painting. “What’s that?”

Y/N walked over, looking at what Portia had asked her about. Though she didn’t see it at first, having mistaken it for a dark rock or something alike, Y/N gasped a little when she realised what it was. Small pointy ears, fur a dark brown with some striped black and desert brown and a tail swaying upward. The cat was so tiny, hidden amongst the tall grass by the forest, looking at Y/N with big pleading eyes. Y/N had almost forgotten what Viola looked like, but seeing her on the canvas, it was like being back in Fosdinovo, walking the cobblestoned streets with the little kitten following her every step.

“Viola.” Y/N answered, blinking a few times as her eyesight started to blur.

“What?”

“A cat.”

“A live one?”

“I, uhh,” Y/N nodded. “The day of that painting we found an injured cat in the woods and brought her to the nearest vet so I could help nurse her. She’d broken her foot.”

Portia looked at Y/N, raising her eyebrows. “And you called her Viola?”

“Yeah,” Y/N didn’t take her eyes off the cat. “She stayed with me the rest of the summer.”

Portia turned to face her sister. “Where is she now?”

“Dunno.” Y/N sighed. “I… dunno.”

Y/N looked at Portia, giving her a little smile before walking towards the next painting. Looking at Viola and knowing that she’d left the cat in Harry’s house in Fosdinovo, also knowing Harry had most likely moved out of the Italian mountain village, it hurt. She had no idea what happened to the cat after she left. Absolutely no idea of how she was doing or who was taking care of her now. There were many times when Y/N had cursed herself for not bringing Viola back home with her. After all, they had created a little bond between them that Y/N now realised would stay with her forever.

Walking up to the fourth painting, Y/N felt herself halt some, watching as Portia walked right up to it to study it properly. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was because Harry had taught her about how he painted during the summer, if she was getting an eye for these things, or if she was just that observant, but she could swear there was something about this one that set it apart from the other few she’d seen up till now.

It dawned on her that for each painting, her figure had gotten closer and closer to Harry. As if the focus shifted from the nature around her to her alone. From far away in the first one, to taking up the whole lower half of the canvas in this fourth one. Her figure was the first thing you saw. The baby blue dress that only barely covered her bum, her bare legs, her white knee socks, her white docs.

“Don’t bend your knee that much.”

Y/N readjusted her knee.

“No.”

“Then how?!”

The grass shifted behind her, and looking to her right, she noticed Harry walking over. For some reason, Harry getting closer got her heart beating so hard she heard it in her ears and her muscles tensing. He sat down before her, a concentrated furrow to his brows that wasn’t at all intimidating. He just looked focused, deep inside his own head, constructing and planning his new painting.

For some reason, she hadn’t thought of the reason for Harry coming over, only that he was. So when he reached for her leg, she almost jumped.

She blinked as she remembered the first time Harry touched her willingly like that. How he had barked orders at her in the beginning, to coming over and moving her leg like he’d done. It made her thigh seem very cold all of a sudden.

“You’re not being serious right now.” Portia hissed, sliding her finger in the air along with the outline of the mountains at the far back of the painting.

They were dark against the pink, orange, and blue sky, so was the forest, making Y/N stand out majestically against everything else. The hint of a small white outline in the sky showed the presence of the early moon, welcoming the oncoming night. Y/N couldn’t remember seeing the moon that afternoon, but then again, she didn’t remember much besides the fact that she laughed with Harry that day and he touched her bare thigh. But Portia had miraculously seen what had captured Y/N’s attention as well. The landscape in the painting, though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it resembled her figure. It swayed where her hips did; dipped where her legs did. It did so in a natural manner, Harry had made them seem like actual mountains and not just a replica of her curves, but Y/N couldn’t see anything else.

“The blue,” Portia said, pointing at Y/N’s dress and then at the slight streak of blue in the sky. “Kinda looks alike, does it not?”

Y/N didn’t pay much attention to it. She started walking away, eager to see the next painting, which she knew was a very special one because it might be the one she remembered the most clearly. As she rounded the planet and started walking toward the fifth one, a huge white orb caught her attention. The detail in all of Harry’s creations caught her off guard, but the moon she was looking at right now looked so real it took her breath away. She saw herself standing in the water; saw the baby blue dress; the knee socks and her Dr Marten’s in the sand. It all looked like a photograph, only the moon was abnormally big. But all his paintings looked so real it was almost like if you stripped the display of the glass protection, you could walk right into the world he’d created on the canvas and live there forever.

“What about you?” he asked again, voice low like a mumble.

Y/N hoped he couldn’t tell how fast her heart was hammering, how every nerve in her entire body was on high alert, how every cell was screaming for him to get closer. “What about me?”

“You’re never as alone as your head makes you believe. The moon is always there.” He said, eyes searching her face. “What about you?”

“Will I always be there?”

He just looked at her, clearly thinking that his look was answer enough.

Her breath hitched somewhere in her throat, and she hoped the rush of emotions that was running through her didn’t show on her face. Portia looked at her with an open mouth before taking in the fifth painting. Y/N knew exactly how her sister was feeling; that overwhelming need to ask herself and everyone else in the room if this was an actual painting, or something from someone’s most desired fantasy captured exactly as it was and printed onto canvas. And maybe it was. But Harry had taken days, weeks, months to finish these paintings, Y/N knew. She remembered those times when she’d watch him paint and he’d refuse to let her see them. She didn’t know why he didn’t want her to see them.

It was so beautiful it was hard to believe someone had made it; it just seemed too celestial for it to be real. She wanted to touch it where Harry had touched it, feel the strokes he’d made, the lines of paint. There was something about this one that sent a shock of pain through her heart no medicine could cure.

“I’d stay up only to get a small glimpse of you.”

She balled her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her skin to hold herself back from crying. Because all she could remember was how fast Harry had kissed her back when she’d kissed him, the feeling of his lips against hers, and the taste of peach tea on his tongue. His hands roaming her body, gripping onto her thighs as she hooked her legs around his waist. His body against hers, their cells mingling, the moon shining her white light down on them, and the ocean swaying around them.

Portia walked around the planet and onto the next one, and giving the moon one last glance, Y/N followed her. Y/N couldn’t even remember this one. Maybe it was because everything that happened after the wedding blurred together, or maybe she’d just not thought about it enough for it to take up space in her head. But as she got closer, the idea of her being a model for this painting seemed unlikely.

The canvas was black as night, a huge moon in the centre of it like the one before. A figure was floating in the middle of the white moon, a baby blue gown clinging to its form and floating up behind them like they were sinking. As she got closer, Y/N saw that this wasn’t her. All the other paintings were of her, but this one wasn’t. This was Harry.

His arms were floating at an almost 90-degree angle, the baby blue gown hovering behind his arms and torso, just barely covering some of his thighs and crotch. One of his knees was bent a bit more than the other, and the tattoos he had up and down his muscular legs were very visible, making Y/N think back to a time she’d been allowed to touch them. His neck was craned backward, eyes closed and mouth parted ever so slightly, bubbles of air leaving him and making a hasty return for the water’s surface. She remembered his fright of the dark, how much he hated the ocean, but his facial expression showed one of peace. He didn’t seem afraid; didn’t seem like he dreaded any of it. It seemed like he was okay; ready to reach tranquillity and the ultimate meaning to life. He was surrendering himself, it seemed.

“Y/N, I swear to you,” Portia said, pointing at different places on the painting. “Look.”

“At what?”

“You mean you don’t see it?”

“See what, Portia?” Y/N knew she must sound irritated, but with everything going on and all the emotions she was feeling at once, she simply could not hold her anger back.

“The painting,” Portia directed Y/N’s attention back to the canvas. “Do you see?”

Y/N took a closer look.

“Do you see all the blue?”

And it was like her little sister flicked a switch, and suddenly, Y/N saw it. Blue. Baby blue. It was hidden in the waves along the top of the painting, in the shadows of the water, in and around the moon, in his hair, his body, his gown. Taking a few steps back, Y/N wondered how she hadn’t picked up on the blue right away. It was all over the painting. Most of the details on that canvas were baby blue.

Quickly, Y/N walked all the way back to the first painting. Portia just watched her, unsure what was going on, but not wanting to interrupt something if Y/N had come to some sort of realisation.

The only blue in the first one was her dress, in the second one, the sky resembled her dress some. In the third, the sky, ocean, and a bit of the grass surrounding her held the same colour as her and her dress, and in the fourth the landscape swayed along with her form, the sky, the woods, and certain highlights were the exact colour of the dress. How hadn’t she seen it all the first time around? Because once she took a few steps back, the baby blue stood out starkly against everything else. Marching straight past the fifth and the sixth, Y/N wanted to see the last two. Because the second to last put the finishing touch on everything.

The entire canvas was baby blue. Her form was outlined in white, but none of her features were shown. Her breasts, face, or any other part of her body was not included. But Y/N would remember that exact pose till the day she died and long after that also. Because it was the one where Harry had drawn on her; her arms above her head, her knee bent, leg resting over the other. She wondered if this had been the one he’d painted when she laid on the floor of his loft, but why had he been so incredibly detailed when he painted on her if he was just going to erase it forever? Not include it in one of his masterpieces? It didn’t make any sense.

“You let him draw you like one of his bloody French girls.” Portia hissed, about to burst out laughing when she stopped herself. The room was silent as people walked through the exhibition, neither of them wanted to be thrown out or something to that effect.

Y/N looked at her sister. “Yes.”

Portia’s eyes got wide. “Shut the fuck up.”

“He painted on me.”

“Shut. Up.”

Y/N glanced at the painting again, noting that the only thing on that canvas was the very careful outline of her.

“Exactly how well did you fuck him for him to do that?”

“Portia!” Y/N hissed. “Leave off.”

“I’m serious, Y/N, this seems like the summer of your entire life.” Portia smiled, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Did he do you good at least?”

Y/N only gave her a look.

“Oh, come on.” Portia pouted. “I just found out my sister has been shagging with my boss all summer, I want the deets.”

“Can that happen another time? I’m a little busy-“ Y/N gestured around her and Portia nodded, clearly eager to be done here so she could hear Y/N explain everything to her over the phone on her commute home.

“You know,” Portia started, holding up the leaflet. “If you’d just bothered and taken the time to look in the brochure, there’s a lot of information about all the paintings.”

Y/N frowned.

“I kind of had my suspicions about the two of you before you even said something just now.”

Y/N looked down at her brochure, reading the front of it again as she walked toward the last painting. She wanted to go through everything one more time and read the leaflet, she needed to know all the details and all the reasons why Harry had done what he’d done. When she glanced up again, the first thing she noticed was how the planet surrounding the canvas was glowing. A dark golden colour, looking a little like the moon, but as if it was on fire on the inside, the surface of it pure gold. She turned around and looked down the row of planets, meeting Portia’s eyes right after.

“The first one is black,” Portia said. “And the last one is golden.”

Y/N felt her heart hammering faster, felt herself begin to sweat.

“With each planet, you slowly fade into-“

“-Venus.” She finished, looking at the last planet she’d been named after. Y/N Venus Sweeney. She was so overwhelmed she felt a little faint, though she hadn’t known what to expect from the exhibition, this – all of it – was not it. She didn’t want to draw conclusions and think this whole collection was about her, but right now, looking at everything around her, it was hard to think anything else.

She still had one more painting to go, so she grabbed the leaflet and walked to stand in front of it. Instantly, she remembered it. She’d seen this one before. It seemed like ages ago, but she had seen this painting. It was the same one Gioele had stolen from Harry’s house and given to Salvatore and Carina as a wedding gift. Y/N had no idea why that one would be in the collection, what had made Harry put it there. She was just about to open the brochure and read what it said about this particular one when she heard a commotion behind her. The screeching of joggers against the floor as if someone was running, some gasps, Jamie shouting something.

Y/N turned around, and she recognised him right away. Her heart immediately started screaming his name. He walked down the row of planets in a haste, frantically scanning the crowds surrounding each quickly till he came to the last one where she stood. He stopped abruptly as his eyes landed on hers, a sigh of relief leaving him in between pants for air. Had he been running? Quickly, he swallowed, trying to regain his composure before he did anything. While he did that, Y/N took him in.

His hair had grown, he must’ve trimmed it some since last summer, but his curls were lush, his hair thick, and just as brown as she remembered it. He was wearing a colour-block patchwork cardigan with all the colours of the rainbow, a white tee shirt with some blue artwork printed on it, washed denim jeans, and his signature pink Converse. He looked healthy, maybe not as tan as she remembered him to be, but he looked good. He looked like the same Harry she had fallen in love with back then; it was still him. He was here. Right before her. After months apart, he was here.

“Y/N.” He said, voice faint as he took a reluctant step forward. It was like he realised what he was doing – getting closer to her when he had no idea if she still wanted that - and was almost about to take a step backward again but stopped himself.

She was unable to say anything at all. One second she had been about to take in the last painting of the collection, and the next Harry had rushed into his gallery and now he stood right in front of her. It didn’t seem real. The months they hadn’t talked, the months they hadn’t seen each other. They all hung in the air between them, pushed them apart from one another; demanding them to keep separated. She wanted to defy their distance, wanted to fling herself into his arms and melt into him like she had done so many times before, but the uncertainty, the separation, and the many curious eyes watching them stopped her.

Harry was about to say something else when his eyes fell on something behind her, clamping his mouth shut.

“Hi,” Portia said. “Don’t know if you remember me.”

“I-I do, I…” Harry’s eyes fell to Y/N again as he trailed off, glancing back at Portia after clearing his throat. “Portia.”

“And you’re H. Styles.” Y/N could hear the smile in Portia’s voice, and Y/N knew instantly she was taking the piss, telling Harry she knew exactly who he was and why he was here. Whispers were heard, as if the visitors all suddenly realised who they were looking at. Someone gasped and someone on the other side of the room started walking closer. Harry looked around him as if he just understood what he’d done by coming here. Their eyes met again, and Harry let out a sigh.

“Can we talk?” he asked, eyes big and pleading. “Please.”

Y/N looked at everyone around them, then back at Harry, hoping he’d understand that she didn’t want to do it in front of everyone else. Taking a few steps backward, Harry began walking towards the exit of the exhibition, making sure Y/N caught up with him before he started walking normally. Y/N glanced at Portia over her shoulder, but Portia was grinning so widely Y/N knew her sister was okay with her leaving her behind for a bit.

The next room they entered was just as dark as the first one, but the paintings were huge projections onto the walls, ceiling, and floor, showcasing all the details each of them portrayed. Harry walked quickly through the room, having seen this multiple times before – having created this -, but Y/N slowed. The attention to detail was incredible; it looked so real, yet it still looked like art. She was never able to really put her finger on it, but then again, she supposed that was what creativity was. The lines between what was certain and what was a craft from someone’s imagination, blurred to the point of doubt, yet it’s human nature to find an explanation for everything; but in art we find an excuse not to have one. Maybe that was what drew people to it; it was real, but not real enough to need reason.

He held the door open for her, leading her to a smoking area in the back of the gallery. Two trees rose up, some dead grass sprung up between the stone flooring, and, thankfully, no one was there. The sun was still shining, and somewhere not too far off, an ambulance siren was going off. It was weird to be with Harry in an environment other than quiet, warm, rural Fosdinovo, it was almost as if she associated him with the peace of the Italian countryside now. But she didn’t mind having him here in London. Not in the least. In fact, she liked it very much.

“Y/N,” he repeated, almost as if he didn’t really know what else to say; almost as if he had to repeat her name over and over and over again to tell himself that she was really here. He just looked at her, studying her intently, probably to make sure she was okay.

“I didn’t know…” she started, blinking a few times. “Didn’t know you were in London.”

“I’m in London.”

“But I didn’t know you were.”

“But I am.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Harry sighed. “No.”

“Why?”

Harry opened his mouth but hesitated. “I… I just… It’s not as if I…” he ran a hand through his hair, sighing again. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

She frowned. “What made you think that?”

“We haven’t talked in a couple of months, have we? Maybe you’d forgotten about me.”

“You think I’d forgotten about you?” Y/N crossed her arms. “I’m not the one who got disinterested and pulled away.”

Harry’s face screwed up into that familiar scowl she had seen so many times before. “I never bloody lost interest, what’re you on about?”

“Seemed that way over text.”

“Those are text messages!” Harry gestured with his arms, very obviously frustrated. “How much can you tell from a text?!”

“A lot!”

Harry groaned. “Y/N, please.”

She stood her ground, looking at him and waiting for him to say something that would change her mind. How had they gone months without talking, months before that with barely any communication, and he didn’t think she’d be annoyed at him for that. She was annoyed at herself, too. It takes two to communicate.

“I don’t want to fight.” He said. “I… I just… I don’t want to fight. Can we just talk?”

“We’re talking.”

Harry’s eyes fell to the ground, nodding a bit before he dared look up at her. “What’ve you been up to?”

Though she wanted to yell at him, tell him that she’d been busy writing and researching her dissertation, that she had been busy missing him, she composed herself. She might be frustrated, but Harry was trying, so she should as well.

“Uni,” she simply said. “And you?”

Harry let out a short breath through his nose. “Figured, stupid question, really.”

She couldn’t help the slight tug at the edge of her lips.

“Been travelling the world, showing off the exhibition.” He gestured back at the gallery. “It’s been wonderful, but I’m glad it’s over now. Can relax for a bit before I start painting for clients again.”

“It’s quite the exhibit.”

Harry nodded.

“Almost a little too extra.”

He let out a chuckle, eyes falling to the ground again. “You think?”

“Wasn’t it hard travelling around with all of that?” Y/N asked, thinking about the huge planets – or rather Venuses – back in the exhibition. Seemed unlikely that they travelled far distances with all of that, but then again, what did she know, she hadn’t talked to him in a long while. And when they did talk, it wasn’t about the transportation of his collection from country to country because he never talked about it.

“No, we drove around most of the time, then by plane when it got to travelling from continent to continent.”

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

His eyes flicked between hers, inhaling slowly. The sun hit the top of his hair, making his locks shine like gold, and Y/N remembered the countless number of times before she’d seen his hair like that in the early morning light, or a bright sunset. Memories are supposed to bring you joy, especially those remembered with fondness, but those are also the ones that hurt the most to relive.

“Are we really gonna chat about anything but what we want to chat about?” Harry asked, face very serious all of a sudden.

“Which is?”

“Us.” Harry said, something in his throat making the word almost sound choked. “And… and…”

She waited, feeling her heart beat harder in her chest.

“And us some more.”

She let out a small chuckle.

“What?”

“Start then.”

She could tell he wanted to frown at her, as if he wanted her to have a certain reaction. But he didn’t, instead he let his shoulders fall a bit, taking her in for a few moments more before he decided to start talking again.

“I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

It hurt every time he said that, as if he didn’t believe that what she’d felt this summer wasn’t half of what he had.

“Tortured me to think about you.”

She took a little step backward, not wanting to listen to him talk on about how she’d hurt him.

“But the thought of you also brought me peace, as it always has. Brought me inspiration and motivation.” He took a step closer to her. “I miss you. I’ve missed you since the day I was brought into this world, I never knew I did till I was without you.”

Those three words radiated throughout her entire body, her heart screaming them right back at his. I miss you I miss you I miss you I-

“Please don’t…” he trailed off, balling his hands into fists as if he was mad at himself for not finding the right words for what he was feeling. “Don’t leave.”

She swallowed, not wanting the hundreds of butterflies and warm feelings in her chest to get the better of her when she answered. “Don’t leave… now? In general?-“

“-Don’t leave me. If not as a lover, as a friend. I need you in my life to some capacity.”

“Harry-“

“-I’m in love with you, Y/N.” His voice was so soft, yet urgent. He needed her to feel the same way, to understand what he was talking about. “I love you.”

Every cell in her body vibrated with the effect of those words, telling Harry she felt the same. In every way one person could love another, she loved him.

“If you even feel a fragment the same, please tell me.” His eyes were so big, pleading with her.

She felt so much all at once, finding the right words – finding words at all – was difficult. Every single part of her tried, her brain working hard and fast so she wouldn’t leave him hanging. But that was exactly what she did. So overwhelmed with absolutely everything today had brought, she couldn’t do anything but feel.

Harry’s jaw visibly tensed with the lack of response. “Or don’t.”

She opened her mouth, brain working a hundred miles a second to find words for him.

“If you don’t, then that’s fine. I won’t pretend it’s not gonna hurt and I’ll need some time to come to terms with it.” He sighed, eyes falling to the ground as if he couldn’t look at her now. “I… I was terrified this would happen.”

She couldn’t just stay fucking silent, she had to say something. Speak you bloody nonce, don’t do him like this. “Harry-“

“-What I’ve been most scared about since we stopped talking is that I played an insignificant role in your life, when you played the most significant in mine.” His eyes were still on the flooring, gripping the ends of his colourful cardigan. “A part you won’t talk about with others, that you keep a secret.”

“I’m not ashamed of this summer, Harry-“

“-I feared you’d never need me like I need you.” He said, voice thick with something resembling torment. “Because I just… I know we have no power over who we end up loving, you meet someone and before you know it, they’re so important to you that imagining a life without them in it is like staring uninspired at a blank canvas. But I’ve chosen to pour every ounce of my love onto you. I’ve chosen you, and I’ll continue to choose you without hesitation and without fail, for the rest of my life.”

She felt her eyes sting, fearing that she’d start crying if he continued on talking. Why was it that before their first kiss, Harry hadn’t been one for talking, but after it he hadn’t dithered? Everything he’d told her since had been so heartfelt and true, she felt like he was putting words to her very own feelings.

The right words wouldn’t come, and she felt like the longer she left him standing there in silence, the longer she let him ramble on, the more catastrophic this would get. Because she felt the same for him, but what she felt was so enormous and she was afraid she’d never find words for it. She wasn’t one for art or expression. She studied science and medicine and animals, she knew all that, but she didn’t know how to tell someone like Harry what he wanted to hear. Most of the time, at least before, he didn’t need her to say anything. Her presence, her touch, her comfort was enough for him. He never expected anything else from her but to reciprocate his feelings. Which she did. Oh, did she love him. More than she thought possible.

“I-“ she started, but cut herself off as she didn’t know where it was going. Harry looked up at her instantly, instant hope in his eyes. “Your exhibit.”

Not the appropriate thing to be talking about right now, she thought to herself, but better than nothing.

“Could you explain it to me?”

He blinked. “Explain it?”

“Yes,” she said, feeling every surface of her body heat up. “Because I knew you were painting me, but I didn’t…”

His eyes lingered on her lips for a second, but he quickly composed himself, a slight redness appearing along his cheekbones. A wave of goosebumps ran up her spine.

“I didn’t expect…”

“Didn’t expect the whole exhibition to be about you?”

She just looked at him, biting her bottom lip.

Harry let out an amused chuckle. “You’re the smartest person I know, thought you might get it right away, to be completely honest with you.”

“It took me off guard.”

“Right, should I walk you through it, then?” Harry gestured at the gallery. “Want to see it?”

She sensed irritation in his voice and sighed. “You don’t have-“

“-Don’t fucking say I don’t have to. You asked about the exhibit. You don’t understand, even though I just made it very clear for you. So, let's.”

He walked toward the door, flinging it open and beckoning for Y/N to walk through it first. Walking first, he stomped straight through the entire exhibition, right past people who were leaving. They all looked over at Y/N and Harry as they walked the opposite way, a few raised eyebrows and some whispering. Portia still stood in the first room with the eight planets, looking up as Y/N and Harry came back. A smile first graced her features, but seeing the look on Harry’s face and how fast they were both walking, she quickly pieced together that something was happening.

“This,” Harry said as they reached the reception, pointing at the wall with the projection of that painting Y/N had found in the flat in Fosdinovo. The drive to his childhood home in Manchester. “You recognise this?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She gave him a look to tell him she didn’t appreciate his tone. He didn’t seem to care.

“Told you the path leads to uncertainty, hence the darkness at the end of it. I didn’t know where my life would lead me and I was terrified. Now,” he pointed to the dark corridor. “What does that lead to?”

Y/N blinked a few times, looking up at Harry when he didn’t continue talking. But he was already glancing down at her, raised eyebrows and a stoic look on his face. Though she was tempted to tell him to shove it if he was going to keep that attitude up, she didn’t. She needed to tell him how she felt, that he wasn’t alone in wanting more. She needed to find the right words. But right now, knowing Harry, he’d just get furious with her if she told him now that he was putting the effort in and showing her what everything meant.

“The paintings.”

“It leads to the exhibition.”

“That’s the same thing.”

Harry didn’t respond, he just walked towards the corridor without looking back. Y/N felt her anger bubble up, but she tried to control it as she followed him to the first room of the exhibition.

“Hope you know what the solar system is.” Harry shouted back to her.

She dug her nails into the palm of her hands, gritting her teeth from responding. Portia was standing at the other side of the room, watching them with wide eyes. Everyone else had left, she realised. The gallery was closing, and Harry’s exhibition needed to be taken down so the next one could be put up. This was his very last day showing his collection. Y/N gave her a look to keep quiet, the last thing Harry needed now was Portia intervening.

“Our solar system’s got eight planets-“

“-I bloody know how many planets there are in our solar system-“

“-But to me and my life,” Harry walked to the side of the room, pointing down at the last planet. The full Venus. Her plant. “In my universe, there’s only one.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“They each fade more and more into Venus. Notice how the first one’s black.”

“Like the end of the painting I found in Fosdinovo.”

Harry’s arm fell to his side, having proven his point on why he’d chosen space to be the theme for his exhibition. He walked on over to the first painting; straight past Y/N, jaw still tense and the look in his eyes enraged. She realised this was torturing him. Going through everything without knowing how she felt, and probably fearing – and believing – the worst. She had to say something.

“This one,” he pointed. “We can barely see you. You were a fucking pain in my arse.”

“Hey!”

“There’s only one dot of baby blue, you’re far away from where I’m standing.”

“If you don’t-“

“-Next one,” he walked onto the second one without Y/N even having reached him and the first painting. “You’re closer to me, still not very close, still not a lot of blue. Only some in the sky. Didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Harry, slow down-“

“-Third,” it seemed he was on a mission, wanting this to be over with as quickly as possible. “You’re close. You can see baby blue in the sky, ocean, your dress, some in the grass. Still not doing it on purpose.”

She jogged over to the fourth as he did, really wanting to take a grip of his arm and tell him to calm down. But she had no right. Not now. But she was still getting annoyed with him.

“Fourth is when I start doing it deliberately. Realised I caught feelings for you, and you can see that in the landscape, how it follows the outline of your body.” Harry pointed just as the lights inside the planets went out. “There’s baby blue in quite literally everything.”

The lack of lights to showcase the paintings didn’t stop him, Harry walked on. She ran after him, about to tell him to slow down again when he walked right past the beach painting with the huge moon.

“The night you changed the moon for me forever. Now I do as you said you do; I talk to her. Every night.”

Y/N felt her heart ache. She wondered, if they were both talking to the moon at the same time, if they were talking about one another, why didn’t the moon whisper Harry’s words into her ear and hers into his? Why didn’t she help them?

“You’re further away in that one ‘cause I realised I’d have to let you go at the end of the summer, didn’t want to get too attached.” A dry laugh slipped past his lips. “Look how well that worked out.”

They stopped in front of the second moon painting, where he was floating in what looked to be the middle of a huge and dark ocean.

“You once told me the moon knows all your deepest secrets and biggest desires,” Harry pointed at himself in the painting. “Here’s me surrendering myself to her.”

“Why’re you in the ocean?”

Harry chuckled, running both hands over his face as if he couldn’t believe her.

“What?”

He looked at her for a few seconds while clenching his jaw. “I used to be terrified of the dark and the ocean. You taught me monsters won’t magically appear just ‘cause you can’t see. They’re just as likely to show themselves in sunlight.” He glanced at the painting again, blinking a few too-many times as he looked away from her. “If you take your time to understand and truly look at this painting, you’ll understand it.”

She was about to open her mouth when Harry said, “And don’t use your ‘I only know science, I barely know how to interpret art’ rubbish.”

“Well, it’s true.” She mumbled, but Harry only clicked his tongue, disinterested in her insistence on not understanding art. He walked on to the next one, the one that was completely baby blue, where her body was carefully outlined in white.

“Here you can clearly tell-“

“-I have a question,” Y/N said, making Harry shut up. “That painting of me… the one where I’m… Where’s that one? I mean…”

Harry stared at her for a few seconds, waiting for her to continue, but when she never did, he mumbled another question right back at her, “You think I’d put a painting of your naked body on display in my exhibition?”

She just looked at him, seeing something in his eyes that was vaguely familiar but too far away to fully grasp.

“I’m keeping that one-“ he stopped himself, swallowing hard. “It’s private.”

She nodded.

“Anyway,” Harry went back to the painting before them. “You represent baby blue to me, so here’s your colour – you -,” he paused for a second. “Becoming everything.”

She looked at him, feeling everything within her wither and bloom at the same time. The painting seemed to take him back to a time long ago, every urge he had to do this as quickly as possible seemed to leave him when he looked at that painting. They still had one left, but he forgot about that, losing himself in a memory. And Y/N lost herself in him. Suddenly, proper lights lit up the room and the stars that had illuminated everything prior, disappeared.

“Harry!”

Harry didn’t meet Y/N’s eyes as he stepped away from the row of planets, looking up at Jamie how had shouted his name.

“Closing time. We need to pack up, mate.”

Harry nodded, looking over at Y/N who suddenly felt her heart pick up speed.

Jamie clapped their hands together. “Come on, you lot, you need to leave.”

For a few moments, it was like the two of them moved in slow motion. Harry took a few steps so he could face the other way, ready to leave through the backdoor, not breaking eye contact with Y/N. Once they looked away from one another, the rest of the world would resume being and they had to leave. Y/N had to say something, she had to tell him. But everything was clogged up somewhere in her throat, she wasn’t able to say anything. This whole exhibit… it was about her. Harry had cared so much about her and he still did. But she couldn’t find the right words. She had to say something. Had to let him know she felt the same way.

Harry’s jaw clenched again before he looked away from Y/N and started walking back down the way he’d taken Y/N before. Everything inside her went into panic mode.

“Harry.” She said, but he didn’t turn around. She started jogging after him. “Harry.”

“Y/N-“

“-Just a sec, Portia!” Y/N continued to follow Harry through the now lit exhibit. “Harry!”

He didn’t turn around still.

“Harry, please.” She took a grip of his arm.

Harry stopped, dragging his arm out of her grip. “Y/N, stop.”

The force of his words took her off guard and it took her a few seconds to compose herself. “I’m sorry.”

Harry nodded, looking behind Y/N at the closing exit door. “What?”

“I… I need to tell you that…” she swallowed, feeling her palms get clammy. “You said earlier that…”

Harry looked at her expectantly, something in the frantic way his eyes moved over her face and the quick breath he took made her think he detected reciprocation in her voice. “Yes?”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Her heart was beating hard and fast, she was beginning to sweat.

“What, Y/N?”

“I can’t, I-“ She ran both hands over her face, frustrated with herself. She groaned.

“What?”

“I know how I’m feeling, but I don’t know how to say it.”

Harry took a small step towards her. “Say what?”

“How I feel for you.”

He let out a small breath. “And how’s that?”

“Just how you feel about me.”

There was a single second when Harry’s eyes were filled with elation; like he was ready to embrace her, kiss her, and never let her go. Wanted to become one with her right then and there, to never leave her side again. A ghost of a smile grace his features and his shoulders lowered; his entire composure seemed to relax. As if all the anger he’d been carrying around with him in the gallery disappeared. But the next second, realisation sunk in and he glanced away for a second.

“Need to hear you say it.” He said, voice weak. “Know you say you’re not one for words, but there are moments in life when words are everything.”

Y/N felt a drop of sweat run down her back. Her head was spinning.

“I deserve to hear you say it yourself.” Harry said.

“I know! That’s why I’m trying so hard to say something!”

Harry nodded, eyes falling to the floor. “You’re not ready.”

Y/N frowned, sure her panic showed on her face. “I am ready. That’s why I followed you out here, isn’t it?”

“No, Y/N, you’re clearly not. You might feel it, but being vulnerable is hard for you. Admitting to being vulnerable isn’t something you know how to do.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open.

“Your whole life you’ve put up this cold and hard exterior to protect yourself from feeling too much. You’ve had a hard time receiving the love you needed while growing up, and you’ve been burned in the past-“

“-Don’t psychoanalyse me.” She pointed a finger at him. “You know I have a hard time opening up to people completely.”

“You have a hard time admitting to letting your guard down. You do it willingly, but there’s a part of you that just doesn’t want to admit it.”

“I said don’t psycho-“

“-I know, I’m sorry.” Harry took a few steps back, as if getting ready to walk away from her. “I’ll wait.”

She blinked. “For what?”

“You.”

“Me?”

Harry nodded, just about to turn around and leave when she called his name again.

“You just begged me to tell you I felt the same way, and I did.” Y/N said, taking a few steps toward him, but stopping herself. “I told you.”

“That you felt like I did.”

“Exactly.”

Harry let out a small chuckle and though it sent a swarm of butterflies straight to Y/N’s stomach, it also hurt because she knew the next few words would send her into a panic. “And thank you for that, but I told you how I felt. Now you need to tell me. Physical show of affection is nice, but proper verbal confirmation that someone loves you…” he trailed off, looking at her in silence for some seconds. “It’s key.”

“Harry-“

“-I love you.”

She fell silent, taken off guard. But the words warmed her so that she was sure she’d never freeze again. He started walking away.

“I’ll wait, you need to figure this out on your own. I know,” smiling he continued, “Now I need you to comprehend.”

Mouth falling open as she tried to force herself to say something, she cursed herself over and over again for having built up that humongous wall around her. Being vulnerable was like admitting that you were weak, and she knew those two weren’t the same thing at all, but she’d associated them with one another her whole life. She needed to stop.

“I’ll wait for you.”

And just like that, Harry left her this time. She was tempted to run after him again, but to what purpose? To have him tell her yet again that he needed her to tell him she loved him when she couldn’t bring herself to? To hurt him again? No, she was going to deal with her struggles to admit vulnerability herself. He deserved to hear her say everything he’d just told her and much more. And hopefully Harry would still love her the way he did now by that time. How terrified she already was that he didn’t.

But if that was the case, at least she’d have taught herself the importance of vulnerability.

Thursday, 10 September 2020

“Smile, baby.” Elaine brought her phone up, snapping a picture of Y/N with her diploma in hand, standing in front of her University.

It was a nice day; the sun was shining through a thin layer of clouds and the temperature was high, but not so high that Y/N was struggling to breathe. All her course mates were milling around behind, beside, and around her, saying their last goodbyes before everyone was to part ways after this. It had been bittersweet saying goodbye to her mates. She knew she was going to see them again and knew she would be happier now that she didn’t have to care about uni, but it would be sad not seeing them and not knowing when she would meet them next. Though she hadn’t really been close with any of them, she still counted them as her friends and would miss their time together.

Portia stood beside Elaine and gave Y/N a little applause, grinning from ear to ear as her sister walked over to them again. “Look at you, all smart.”

“Yes,” Y/N said, doing a little dance with her diploma. “I’d like to think I am.”

“Look,” Elaine begged Y/N over so she could look at the pictures she’d taken of her. “You look lovely, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, the lighting’s amazing.”

“So peng.” Portia said, zooming in on Y/N’s face.

Y/N playfully hit Portia in the head with her diploma, making the two sisters chuckle before they turned back to their mother. Elaine smiled at Y/N, there was a look in her eyes Y/N wasn’t accustomed to seeing on her mother’s face when looking at her. It was something she often directed at Portia, but Y/N rarely got this. Pride. It almost made Y/N’s eyes sting with oncoming tears.

“Come on, girls,” Elaine said, taking each of her daughters’ hands. “We need to celebrate. What’s a good pub around yours, Y/N?”

“Hmm,” Y/N thought for a few seconds. “There’s a Gregg’s two minutes away.”

“Sausage rolls!” Portia exclaimed.

“We’re not celebrating you getting a degree at bloody Gregg’s, are you dim?” Elaine huffed, unlocking the car once they reached it. “We need to get a pint each, and a fancy dinner later.”

“Reckon we could afford a fancy dinner in London, Mum?” Y/N sat down in the car, putting her seatbelt on as Elaine started the car. “I’m skint.”

“Well, you’re not the one paying for the dinner, are you?” Elaine raised her eyebrows at her, driving away towards Y/N’s flat in Hackney. Portia reached into the backseat where Y/N sat, squeezing her knee before she sat back and focused on the city they were driving in. Y/N leaned forward and squeezed Portia’s shoulder.

“Thank you for coming, P. Know you have a lot going on at the moment, but it meant a lot to me that you bothered to come.”

Porta looked over her shoulder at Y/N, studying her sister for a second before she smiled. “Might be busy, but it’s your graduation. It’s important to me.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up a bit, something they always did when she managed to discuss her feelings. “Thank you anyway.”

“You’re very welcome.” Portia’s smile widened, and she grabbed Y/N’s hand, kissing it before turning to look ahead again.

Y/N smiled herself, sitting back in her seat and looking out the window.

She’d never really gotten attached to London. Maybe it was because she didn’t really have anyone she was close to, or the constant fast-paced lifestyle you had to lead to live there. Y/N had always preferred a slow life, like the one she had grown up knowing in Maldon. Essex was calm, it was what she’d known her whole life and what she wanted to know forever. Regardless of where she wanted to live and where she felt she belonged; she’d gotten a job at North London Veterinary Clinic so she didn’t really have much of a choice in where she could settle down for a little while. North London wasn’t as busy as Central, so she wouldn’t be as overwhelmed as she usually was. She’d have to move and though the thought stressed her out, she was ready for a little change. It would be good for her.

“Do you remember that guy I was chatting to for a little while?” Portia suddenly asked, snapping Y/N out of her reverie.

“Drake?”

“No.”

“That Felix lad?”

“Not him.”

“Ezra?”

Portia shook her head.

“Jackson-“

“-Oh, for fuck’s sake, Y/N,” Portia turned around in her seat. “Do you have to rub it in?”

“That you date a lot of men? I don’t have to do that; you know it perfectly well yourself.”

Portia rolled her eyes. “Azeem.”

“Ahh! Azeem!” Y/N nodded her head, giving her little sister a smile. “Remember you talked about him, yes. Ages ago, though.”

Portia seemed to think back to the time she was talking to Azeem, getting lost in her own thoughts for a few short seconds before she blurted out, “Anyway, I met him on a night out like two days ago.”

“You did? What’d he say?”

“Just that it was nice to see me again.” Portia said. “Told me I looked good. And then he walked me home.”

In an attempt to come to terms with how she was feeling and letting other people know, it had been one of the first things Y/N had done. She sat Portia down when she came back to London, told her she loved the fact her sister came down and that they got to spend time together because it brought them closer – and she wanted to be close to her sister since they’d struggled being just that growing up -, but Portia needed her own place. If she was going to spend that much time in the capital, she might as well move there permanently. Elaine had struggled to come to terms with the fact that her youngest daughter would be moving out, especially considering how much time and resources she’d put into Portia and her career. But both the sisters had convinced their mother that this was what Portia needed to do. She needed to become independent. And besides, Portia wouldn’t be alone in London, Y/N lived there as well.

“And…?” Y/N urged, raising her eyebrows to show she was eager to know what happened next.

“He asked me out on a date.”

“He did?!” Y/N grinned. “Why did you stop seeing each other in the first place?”

Portia sighed. “It was hard to not see him very often, we lived far away from one another, and all that. But now that I live in London, maybe it’ll work out.”

“Is he a decent bloke, Y/N?” Elaine looked in the driving mirror back at Y/N. “I won’t take Portia’s word for it. You know she’s blinded by a good shag when she’s got one.”

“Mum!” Portia exclaimed. “Don’t say that! You’re not allowed to say that!”

“Say what? What you always tell me? You talk about lads and your sex life constantly.”

“I do not! Oh, my God!”

Y/N laughed, zoning out as her little sister and mother started arguing in the front. They soon reached Hackney and Y/N’s flat building. It felt weird knowing that Thursday next week, she’d be moving out of this flat and into a new one. Though Hackney wasn’t the nicest place to be living in London – or the nicest place to just be walking through – it had been Y/N’s home for five years now. Sure, she spent loads of time in Maldon and Essex, but this was her place in London. But soon, Hampstead would probably be it. It wasn’t that the commute would be horrible from Hackney and up to North London, but she would rather have a stroll to work in the morning instead of using public transit. It was bloody unbearable on the tube in the mornings sometimes.

They exited the car and Y/N rummaged through her purse for her keys, giving them to Portia when she reached her hand out for them.

“Thanks, babes.” Y/N said, getting her diploma out of the car seat before closing the door and letting their mother lock the car.

Portia glanced at Y/N for a little while, a grin spreading out over her lips.

“What?” Y/N asked, gesturing for her sister to unlock the door so they could walk on in.

“Dunno,” Portia shrugged, putting the key in the hole and turning it. “You never call me ‘babe’ or anything like that, but you’ve started recently.”

“Been watching too much Love Island.”

Portia laughed, holding the door open for her mother and sister. The lot of them walked up the stairs to the second story, about to let Y/N change out of her heels so they could go have a pint and then go out to dinner. Though she wouldn’t look as smashing as she did with her heels on, they would ultimately kill her feet and she was not about that life today. She’d just gotten a degree, she was going to feel good all day. So fuck heels.

They reached Y/N’s door and she let Portia unlock that one as well. Her flat was as simplistic as always; one single room with a small kitchen, a bed, a desk, and a door to a small bathroom. Elaine walked over to the desk, sitting down in Y/N’s office chair while Portia bent down and picked up something behind the door.

“Mail.” She said, giving Y/N a few envelopes.

“Thanks.” Y/N took it, looking through the envelopes to see nothing interesting. A couple of bills, some rubbish, and…

“Where are we going after this then?” Elaine asked, looking from Y/N to Portia. But Y/N didn’t hear what Portia was answered because she was too busy reading the small slip of paper that told her she’d gotten a parcel. Everything that was too big to slip through the mail slot was out into a cupboard on the outside of Y/N’s flat. Beside her front door was another, smaller door where her electricity metre was. If she wasn’t in to receive the parcel herself, she’d written on her mail slot to just pop it in there.

She put all her mail down on the kitchen counter before walking outside to check the cupboard. Upon opening it, she saw a single brown parcel, though it looked more like a gift than anything. She reached for it, bringing it out into proper lighting. She read her own address on the front, and when turning it around, she found it a little hard to breathe. Had he…

Y/N walked back into the flat, closing the door behind her and placing the package on the kitchen counter so she could unpack it. She knew Elaine and Portia were talking behind her about something, probably where they were going to go have their pint, but Y/N could not focus on anything but what was right in front of her. Ripping the paper off, a sea of colour was revealed to her and she recognised what she was looking at right away.

“A sunny morning in Essex.” Y/N smiled, looking at him. “The most beautiful sight in the world, if I may say so.”

“Oh, is it?” he asked, putting the brush away and placing his hand on her thigh, turning to face her.

“Uh-huh.” Her smile widened some as he moved closer to her, brushing his nose gently against hers.

“I can think of more beautiful sights than a sunrise in bleeding Essex.”

She ran her hand over it, feeling the strokes of paint she’d put there with Harry’s help. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the paintings in his collection, but it was the most breath-taking creation she’d ever laid her eyes upon. It was something she’d made with Harry. It was art. Picking it up, something fell to the kitchen counter. An envelope.

“What’s that?” Portia asked, but Y/N couldn’t answer.

She put the canvas back down on the counter and reached for the envelope, tearing it open. It was his handwriting and she suddenly longed for him again. Months had gone by, but she thought about him every day. He was always with her, always motivated her; made her want to be better. And seeing something the two of them made a year ago, reliving the memory of them sitting close and creating something beautiful in the warm Italian summer night, it made her yearn in a way she never had before.

‘Complimenti per la laurea, celeste.’

Looking down on the canvas again, she suddenly recognised it. The landscape resembled the one in Tuscany, the one she had walked through and lived in all last summer. And in the corner was a white house, almost like a mansion of sorts, but not as big as some of the houses she’d passed on the countryside. She didn’t remember painting that. In fact, she barely remembered painting anything but the colour of the sunrise. Orange, yellow, blue. Harry must’ve completed the painting after she left.

“Y/N,” Portia said, now standing by her sisters’ shoulder. “Is that one of his paintings?”

Y/N just looked at he canvas, unable to say anything.

“Is that one of his fucking paintings?” Portia gasped, looking at Elaine and back at Y/N. “Imagine how much that is worth!”

“I’m not gonna sell his painting, Tia.”

“No, but-“ Portia gestured at the artwork, squealing. “What’d the card say?”

“Think he’s congratulating me on graduating.” Y/N put the card down, looking at the painting again. The room fell silent as nosy Elaine probably didn’t know which of her questions to ask first, Portia looked dumbfounded at the canvas, and Y/N yet again lost herself in daydreams of Harry. He knew she was graduating today. Sent her their painting. He congratulated her on finally getting her degree. He was still thinking about her like she was thinking about him. One of Y/N’s fears with taking so long to figure herself out, he’d somehow move on. But she believed in him enough, knew how she felt well enough, to know that they’d see each other again.

“You have to leave.” Portia said. “Y/N, it’s been six months.”

“I know.”

“You have to go to bloody Italy right this second.” Portia looked around Y/N’s flat. “Where’s your bag?”

“What about my life here? I’m starting a new job next week, I’m moving.”

“Figure that stuff out next week.” Portia smiled. “You’ve grown so much in the last few months, Y/N. You’re softer now, not so prone to fighting people for not having the same opinion as you, but you listen and you’re willing to change. Not for the world, but for yourself. Harry didn’t tell you to embrace tenderness just so you could admit how you were feeling about him, but also so you’d be nicer to yourself.”

“But I already am.”

“I know, but he wanted you to allow more love into your life. By seizing love and allowing yourself to feel, not only self-love, but the love of others, you allow yourself to live fully and completely.” Portia squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “Without regret, without apology.”

Y/N smiled a little at her sister, studying her face. “Portia Cressida, when the fuck did you become so wise?”

“Can’t let people know I know shit or else I’ll ruin my dumb image.”

The girls laughed, and Portia rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder, glancing at the painting Harry had gifted her sister.

“Go, Y/N.”

Saturday, 12 September 2020

She remembered Italy to be hot, but something about Italy in autumn was almost unbearable. Everything was still a lush green, nothing had changed outdoors since last year it seemed, everything still looked the same. But Y/N wondered how that was possible when she wasn’t even in the southern part of Tuscany anymore, she was in Veneto, a county further up north. North-west Italy looked as summery in autumn as Y/N would’ve expected it to, and she loved it. Though she didn’t like the sun much, she’d come to appreciate it more than the rain of England. Besides, she could stand the heat if it meant meeting Harry again.

She’d called Jamie yesterday, asked them where she’d be able to meet Harry. She knew she could’ve just asked Harry, but she also wanted to see the surprise on his face when he saw her on his doorstep. So, she hadn’t told him she was coming. Which could either end with them living happily ever after or him saying he didn’t feel the same anymore. Thinking about the latter gave her a panic attack.

She hadn’t brought much with her, just a small bag as a carry-on and the clothes she was wearing. A see-through red, yellow, white, and pink tie dye crop top, showing off her cute black bralette underneath, a washed-out pair of high-waisted boyfriend denim jeans, and a black pair of Dr Marten’s. Though it had gotten a bit chilly on the plane, she knew Italy would be hot, and she had been very right about that. Besides, she needed to look extra cute now that she was seeing Harry again for the first time in six months.

The bus ride wasn’t as bumpy as the one she’d taken to Fosdinovo, the bus was new, and she trusted the driver to know if something was wrong. She hadn’t trusted Gioele to know the same, which she applauded herself for in retrospect. The bus was fairly new and the road to Padua, Veneto was nice. She’d done some research and figured out the reason why Harry might’ve moved up north and close to Padua. It was a city known for art; spectacularly pretty and often overlooked by Venice, a mere hour-drive away. Knowing Harry, he’d probably walk through the quieter streets of Venice to get inspiration or sit on a corner café in Padua to people-watch. She knew he wanted to get out of Fosdinovo, but he hadn’t been able to remove himself entirely from the Italian culture he had immersed himself in. His love for that country was too great for him to ever truly leave.

Reaching Padua, Y/N got off and got a taxi right away. She told the driver where she was going, and though it was a bit out of town and onto the countryside – not to Y/N’s surprise, Harry liked quiet after all – he agreed to get her there. It took them about 30 minutes to reach the house, and when they did, it was a simple gravel path. She obviously had to walk for a bit to get there, but she was glad she got to take in Harry’s new residence in the calmness that was the outskirts of Padua. She could make out the white house at the end of the road, the newly sown trees that lined the path, and knew when they had grown to their full height, they would envelope the drive like a tunnel of green leaves and nature. Y/N smiled a little to herself as she imagined it, knowing that Harry most likely had the exact same thought in mind.

It was nice seeing how he decided to live now, especially after everything that happened in Fosdinovo. Secluded, but a couple of neighbours a few minutes’ walk up or down the cemented road she’d just been on. It was undoubtedly his new paradise. And by the looks of it, the closer she got, it seemed he was still working on the house. White and grand, with huge French windows and sheer curtains on either side of them all, there was still some construction work going on on the outside, though the workers weren’t working today it seemed. It was only 12pm, but maybe Harry wanted them to take the day off to relax. She’d ask him, she told herself, because she was now in the driveway, viewing the red front door, looking in through the windows to see if she saw him. Her heart was hammering so fast in her chest that she noticed her tie dye top vibrating with each beat.

Reaching forwards, she pressed the doorbell, taking a step back so the door wouldn’t hit her in the face when he opened it. Nearly as quickly as it had gone off, she heard something very familiar inside the house. Spending time around animals nearly all the time, Y/N’s puppy radar went off when she heard the tiny barks of a baby dog inside. Immediately, her mouth fell open, and she walked to the closest window to look inside.

Down a white tiled corridor, the light from the massive windows on the other side of the house shining down on him, a puppy came running down on his big paws, his tail wagging so wildly his little bum moved with it.

“Hi.” Y/N cooed when he reached the window, standing on his back-paws to get a better look of her and bark some more. “Who’re you then? What’s your name?”

He sniffed the glass as if trying to get a sniff of her, but he whimpered when he couldn’t. And as Y/N got a good look of the little guy, she realised something very quickly that made her almost fall backward onto the gravel of the driveway. A Scottish deerhound.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Y/N said under her breath, walking back to the front door and ringing the doorbell again. Why was it that Harry had trouble answering the bloody door every time? She stood her ground this time, the puppy still barking at her and watching her in anticipation, ready to jump onto her the second Harry opened the door. But he didn’t. So this time she knocked on his door with her fist, not about to wait around for hours. She knew he was in. A puppy couldn’t be left alone in a big house like this, he’d either have to put him in a cage or take the pup with him.

With no response, Y/N decided to explore the outside of his house. Giving the pup a little wave, she stepped down from the front step, taking in the marble pillars on either side that held a small roof above the front door. The house was incredibly elegant and new. Had he built it himself? She walked around the side, admiring the huge garden and the tall stone fence that secluded it from everything else. There were a couple of trees that stood around a tiny pond, and it seemed he’d taken the time to put a grey stone bench beside it. The rest of the garden was newly trimmed and grand, though pretty empty still. There seemed to be the start of a pretty big doghouse beside another tree, and something else that might be the start of a veranda. Maybe he’d just about moved in. It would explain why everything looked so new, anyway.

It felt like Harry, though. All of it. Elegant yet simple, big but not too much. He was a simplistic person who loved grand things. The thought of him moving into a new house, probably a little anxious to meet new people and to get acquainted with his new life in a new town, it made her smile. He was restless and would move in a few years, but for now, this was exactly what he needed, she knew.

Faint, but Y/N still heard it with every single part of her being, a meow sounded from behind her. Turning around, there stood a striped cat looking over at her. She hesitantly moved forward and Y/N felt like breaking down crying.

“Viola,” Y/N hunched down. “Hi, baby.”

The cat made her way over quite hastily when she recognised who the person was, rubbing herself against Y/N’s outstretched hands. She’d grown, yet Y/N would know this little creature anywhere. She’d often wondered what happened to Viola, because when she left, she assumed Harry would take care of her till he left. But here she was. Had he brought her with him everywhere? She reached down, pressing a soft kiss to Viola’s forehead like she always did, and the cat meowed in response. Y/N giggled, the feel and sound of Viola brought her right back to her time in Fosdinovo. The cat had been there for her every single day, putting a smile on her face. They gave each other a home for a month.

Thinking she might explore more of the grounds, she stood upright, and Viola immediately perked up, ready to follow Y/N wherever she decided to go. Her eyes suddenly landed on a glass house attached to the mansion, and then on the figure standing by the open door leading into it. The inside of the winter garden was fully furnished, unlike the rest of the property that lacked the same attention. She couldn’t believe this. Not only was this Harry’s dream home, it was hers as well.

Their eyes met, and a jolt so intense rocked through Y/N’s body that it shook up everything. She fell in love with him all over again, seeing him there, looking right back at her with a look of startlement and longing and relief. She couldn’t wait any longer, she had to be close to him. Taking the first few steps, she felt the inside of her tummy vibrate as the butterflies inside her came to life again. The closer she got to him, the more every single part of her body tickled, itching to hold him again. And when it seemed to have dawned on Harry that this wasn’t a dream, he started walking toward her as well. The closer they got the more they picked up the pace. It had been too long, they had taken too much time, they had worked on each other for one another and for themselves.

Y/N threw herself into his chest and Harry wrapped his arms around her so tightly she was sure she’d fade into him. Though it had taken them so much to get to this moment, it had taken them a while for a reason. People needed to work on one another and for each other to make a relationship work, it didn’t just magically happen. And sometimes people need to be apart for a little while to gain perspective and mature enough to return. Harry needed someone who could be as open as him, and Y/N needed someone who wasn’t afraid to be himself to the fullest, without apology.

They broke apart, eager to look at one another again. Harry’s eyes moved over her frantically, taking her in again. He was wearing another silk shirt, tucked into high-waisted washed out denim jeans, and barefoot. Something about his bare feet was adorable. And the fact they were basically wearing the same jeans made her stifle a laughter.

“Hi,” she said, unsure how else to greet him.

He chuckled. “What the fuck, Y/N.”

“What?”

“You’re here.” He said, smiling at her. “I… I had no idea. But you’re here.”

“I’m here.”

He took her hand, squeezing it, looking her up and down. “Here.”

She smiled as well, feeling her hand heat up here his skin met hers. When he looked up at her again, eyes glistening, face lit up more than she’d ever seen before, dimples as deep as ever, she felt like tearing up. This was the man of her dreams; the man she wanted to spend every day with till death. And even after that she’d find him in their next life, or she’d find him in her afterlife, or wherever else they’d end up. There was no one else. Would never be anyone else.

“This is a big place.” She said, gesturing at the house and the rest of the estate.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, still looking at their joined hands. “Started building it back in March.”

“Big place for a big lad.”

Harry laughed, looking up at her again. “Need enough space for Viola and Gopher to wander.”

Y/N’s heart did a dreamy sigh. “Gopher?”

“Oh!” Harry pointed behind him at the house. “He was the one barking.”

“The puppy?”

“Yeah.”

She bit her lips together, looking down at their hands. “You adopted a puppy.”

Silence for a few moments before Harry said, in such a soft voice she swore it felt like a caress, “He’s been waiting for you.”

She glanced up again, happiness so overwhelming filled her to the point that she felt like flying. Eyes landed on the house and then back on Harry as he ran his thumb over her hand.

“Don’t you remember that day in the car last summer, when you first met Jamie?”

She didn’t at first, but it hit her like a truck and she almost gasped out loud. Harry only smiled a little at her, having remembered her words this whole time.

“A Scottish deerhound.”

“They’re quite big, aren’t they? Can’t remember how they look, but I think I know.” The phone was in Jamie’s hand, typing the name of the breed into the Google search bar.

“I’ve always wanted one. Always wanted to move to the outskirts of Maldon with two deerhounds. That’s where I want to settle down, I think.” She said. “With a winter garden and a big property so the dogs can run freely.”

She shook her head, not wanting to believe Harry had done this.

“Harry…”

“It’s not Maldon, or Essex, or England for that matter,” he said, stepping aside so she could look at the house. “But I tried to make it like you said, with some pieces of me in it, if that’s okay.”

The resemblance it held to the last painting of Harry’s exhibit was incredible, the same painting that had been stolen by Gioele. The painting Harry had an emotional attachment to of sorts. It was because it was this. It was the house. It was the place he hoped she’d settle down. With him.

“Wanna take a look inside?”

She smiled at him. “Please.”

He smiled back, letting go of her hand so they could walk into the winter garden. Viola followed them, strolling in through the door before Harry closed it. He took her into his arms and walked over to the door that led into the house, opening it and letting Viola walk away before closing the door again. They were left in silence, a few of the windows were open to let some air in or else the room would undoubtedly get incredibly hot with the sun shining right in. The roof was shaped like a spire, the whole glasshouse a half-circle, and green plants lined the window wall. Vines hung gracefully along some of the stiles, and in the middle of it all stood a big blue velvet ottoman. The whole place had a gothic feel to it and Y/N absolutely adored it. When she’d pictured a winter garden, she’d just wanted a place she could relax outdoors during wintertime, but this was something else entirely. It had a Harry feel to it, but it also felt like her.

“What do you think?” Harry asked, leaning his back against the windows.

“It’s amazing.” She mused, looking around. “Harry… I’m speechless.”

“Tried to make it into something that I knew you’d like. That’s why I painted it first and had an architect sketch the outline of the house after.” Harry explained. “Hope it falls into liking.”

She looked over at him, for the first time in ages, seeing the hint of doubt in his eyes again. Simply not able to help herself, she walked over to him, hesitating a bit before placing a hand to his cheek. He leaned into her, closing his eyes for a second and letting a sigh of relaxation leave his lips.

“I love it, I haven’t even seen the inside of the house, but I love it.” She told him, studying his dark eyelashes against his cheekbones. “And I love you.”

Harry’s eyes shot open, looking straight into hers. The absolute joy in them made the colour of his irises more radiant, and it was almost as if the sun shone a little brighter. As if the world fell into place; like how it was supposed to be all along.

“I love you.” She repeated, softer this time around.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice sounded like a whisper; a plea for her to really, really, really feel it – what was between them – like he did.

“I’m in love with you, Harry.”

He grabbed the back of her neck, swallowing hard. “I love you, too.”

She couldn’t help it when the sides of her mouth tipped upward. “I know.”

Harry smiled. “Smug bastard.”

She laughed, leaning her forehead against his, feeling his fingers stroke her scalp tenderly. God, it felt good to have him touch her again. It felt good to be close to him. It felt good to not be ashamed of saying ‘I love you’. It felt amazing to let someone else know how deeply you cared for them and see them light up in response because they felt the same way.

“Now fucking kiss me before I go out of my mind.” Harry said, an undertone to his voice that made a hot tingle run up Y/N’s spine.

“How about you kiss me?”

Harry frowned.

“After all, if I hadn’t kissed you in the ocean that night, would we even be here?”

“You take pride in that, don’t you? I would’ve kissed you eventually.” Harry said, and Y/N raised her eyebrows at him. “I would’ve!”

“Yeah, alright. When? The opportunity presented itself a couple of times, but you only had the nerve to kiss my hand.”

Harry gripped her hair hard in his hand, bringing her lips to hover above his. She gasped, looking down at his lips and then feeling it against her thigh. Very quickly, she felt hot all over, and the need to be closer to Harry grew so fast it made her dizzy.

“Got the nerve to fuck you good now, don’t I?” Harry said, voice so deep she felt it vibrate through her bones.

Y/N bit her lip. “What gentleman talks like that to a lady before he’s even kissed her for the first time in a year?”

“You want a gentleman?”

She ran her hands down his torso. “Depends on the situation.”

Harry kissed her jaw, leaving wet kisses down her neck. “Hmm, does it now?”

“Want a gentleman to walk the little puppy with, to make breakfast with, or to take me out for dates.”

“Do you want a gentleman between your thighs, baby?”

She closed her eyes at the feel of Harry’s lips on her, bit her bottom lip as he pressed her body closer to his. “Depends on how well that gentleman knows how to treat a lady.”

Harry chuckled, the feeling of his laughter against her skin was like heaven. “I’ll be a gentleman, the devil, an angel; I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

She huffed. “Thought we were doing dirty talk, and here you go turning it romantic.”

“I need you to shut up,” Harry said as his lips hovered above hers. “Because I’m about to kiss you and then fuck you on that sofa.”

She grinned, tilting her head to fit perfectly against his. “Kiss me.”

And he did. Hard and passionately. They wasted no time, slipping their tongue into one another’s mouths, clinging to one another, touching all over. They tasted the other, felt them right there. There were some birds singing outside, rustling of some leaves, but the two of them didn’t care. Harry pushed her backward till her legs hit the couch, but she stopped herself from falling back into it. Instead, she turned them around, pushing Harry back onto the ottoman.

“Let me show you how much I love you.” She said, and Harry let out a shaky breath at her words.

He quickly undid the buttons of his silk shirt, threw it somewhere behind him before he leaned on his elbows. “Nothing you’ve ever said has turned me on more.”

She giggled, taking her jeans and knickers off and straddling his lap. He sat up, attaching his lips to hers once again, grabbing onto her bum, begging her to grind against him. They both wanted some friction, and she knew that if he pressed her harder onto him, there would be wet marks from her left on his jeans. But in the moment, neither cared. They just wanted to be as close as humans could be, wanted to feel ecstasy. She buried her hands in his hair, dragging out the tongue filled, wet, lustful kisses. It was excruciating, and the heat between her thighs got more and more intense the more time went on. A wave of excitement and adoration ran through her as she felt Harry’s hand run up her back, reaching for her bra. He wanted to see all of her.

She let him, throwing her shirt off and letting her bra fall to the floor. Harry kissed her the second she was done undressing, moaning her name against her lips. She felt her centre ache, reaching for the zip of Harry’s jeans as quickly as possible. She couldn’t bare it any longer, she needed to be skin to skin; soul to soul. Y/N found that the people she had sex with, she formed an emotional attachment to them in a way that was unexplainable. There might not even be real feelings there, but you’d shared an intimate moment with someone, and it was a moment neither of you would ever forget. But with Harry, it was more than that. It wasn’t just a single moment she shared with him when they were like this; it felt like sharing an entire lifetime. It felt like happiness; it felt like the rest of her life. And she knew she was right to have spent time away from him, because she would tell him this over and over and over again, and she wouldn’t be ashamed or feel weak for admitting how much she loved him.

They got Harry’s jeans and boxers off, and as she took a grip of his cock, Harry stiffened. Their eyes met.

“A condom.” He said, reminding her what they were about to do.

She shook her head. “It’s fine.”

Harry gripped her thigh, squeezing her.

“You pay for the pill.”

He smiled, kissing her for a long time. “Fuck me, please.”

Slowly, she sat down on him, gasping at the familiar feeling of him inside her like this. Harry didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time, mouth opening wider for each centimetre he moved inside her. Positioning her feet on the floor, she started moving her hips over him. He instantly moaned, not able to help himself because it felt so good. He moved his hands up her thighs, her sides, her back, wanting to feel every single little part of her. Wanted her to know how much he appreciated every little thing about her. There wasn’t a single part of her body, of her soul, of her existence he didn’t love. She felt all his emotions in his touches, in the kisses he left along her collarbone, in the soft way he moaned her name.

She tried to push him down onto the ottoman, wanting to have him watch her as she rode him, but Harry stopped her. He shook his head, curls tickling her jawline and cheek.

“No,” he simply said, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m staying right here.”

And though he hadn’t meant it that way, Y/N still took it as him telling her he’d stay with her like this forever. After all, she’d been the one to leave him in the first place, but they were here now. Never was she going to leave him. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, the truest thing in her life, and her best influence. Had she ever been happy before she’d met him? Had she known true happiness till now? Because right now, feeling Harry’s bare skin against hers and hearing him repeat her name, she wasn’t so sure the happiness she’d felt before him could be counted as just that, happiness.

Harry squeezed her hips. “Like that,” he moaned, burying his face in the cook of her neck.

Nothing mattered besides the magic they were creating between them; nothing mattered but Harry and eternity. The soft skin of the inside of Y/N’s thighs against Harry’s hips and sides, pressed to him, sweaty. His tattooed body against her bare one. Heavy breathing, the occasional moan.

The burn in her core was really starting to build up now, and she knew it would burst any second. Harry moved his face so it was right in front of hers, studying her moving form above him. Her sliding hips, her desperate hands, her exclamations of pleasure. The butterflies in her stomach went crazy, all of them flying wildly in a single circle to intensify the oncoming orgasm. Harry’s hips moved more with hers, staring at her as she closed her eyes, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Harry said, hands trembling against her back.

She didn’t know why that almost brought her to tears, but it did, and she bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. No one had ever made her feel as stunning as Harry. Though she was confident in her body and on her own, being with Harry made her feel on top of the world. His love, his encouragement, his compliments, it all made her feel so incredibly good about herself in a way nothing ever had before. She had no idea how she could ever thank him for that.

Their hips moved rhythmically, hard against one another, desperate for release. Everything felt electric, everything felt hot. Y/N wanted to melt into him and have the two of them sitting like this forever. Wanted to feel him close, feel his love, feel his skin. Having him inside her like this, feeling him grip her hard, whimpering against her lips, moan her name; she felt powerful, beautiful, strong, and so so so good.

“Harry,” she moaned, looking into his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He said, bringing her closer. He reached between them, knowing that in order to come properly, she needed him to flick her bud. “Let me watch you come.”

“Oh, God.” She gripped his shoulders harder, moaning loudly as he rubbed her clit like he knew she loved so much.

“Yeah?” He watched her, flicking her faster. “Come for me, baby.”

She came hard. Harry watched her intently, clearly holding back his own release till he knew she was completely done with hers. She grinded on top of him, looking deeply into her eyes as hot flames lashed threw her body, rocking up her entire reality. She gasped for breath and moaned and repeated Harry’s name over and over and over again until it let like it was the only word she knew. Her legs were shaking, and it was hard for her to move properly so he could come to.

“Say it.” Harry said, his neck vein about to show and his face reddening with the oncoming climax. “Tell me.”

She knew exactly what he needed to hear. “I love you.” She whispered against his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the side of his lips as she continued to rock over him. “Everyday, for the rest of my existence, I’ll love you.”

“Fuck.” Harry moaned, not able to look away from her. “Y/N. My love.”

She held his face in her hands. “Never leave me. I love you too much.”

“Never.” Harry said, a moan escaping his lips. “Shit.”

He came, not looking away from her. A furrow appearing between his brows, lips parted, and Y/N had never seen anything so hot and beautiful. He stilled, neck vein showing, and he moaned and moaned and moaned. She watched him till he came down, feeling his cum inside her, feeling his breathing against her, his arms around her.

“You need to go meet Gopher now.” Harry said after a little while.

“My puppy.”

Harry laughed. “We’re gonna have a house filled with fucking animals, aren’t we?”

“And what about it?” Y/N smiled. “Don’t you want to see me happy?”

Harry’s eyes softened, smiling slightly up at her as he took her hand, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed her hand, then her palm, then the pulse of her wrist. “For the rest of my life, celeste.” His smile widened as he felt her beating hearts against his lips. “My baby blue.”

the BIGGEST thank you to all my beta readers! you lot have saved me and helped me more times than i can count! love you!

@aileenacoustic @sunflowervolumeeleven @emotionally-imbruised @fromyourstrulyh @harryisadogperson @harrysthighles @mellowstyles94 @toolazymyguy @clorenafila @dearest-rebecca @tpwkceline @tasteslikestrawberriesharry​

and thank you to you! thank you for reading baby blue! thank you for the love sent both mine and bb’s way! thank you for letting me tell you yet another story, the fact that you sit down each sunday (or whichever day tbh) to read bb and immerse yourself in the bb-verse means so much to me!

as for what i’m gonna do next cos i’ve gotten quite a few questions about that! i won’t be posting writing on tumblr or wattpad till may, but in the meantime i’ll be over at patreon posting! there’ll be a poll there where some of my patrons can vote for what they want me to write next and i’ll post something every week!

my next fic will be announced sometime in april (tho i’ve talked about what it’s gonna be multiple times lmao), and the first few chapters will be available to read on my patreon before it starts posting on my other platforms!

ANYWAY, i love you all so much! thank you again! bb!harry and bb!mc appreciate you very much, as do i :’’)

thank you so much. till next time, stay hydrated.

your bestie, nora x

[4haechie]

son of apollo!donghyuck

pairing: son of apollo!donghyuck x child of athena!reader genre: fluff, comedy, some adventure/action, pjo au, e2l au words: 3,173 warning: couple of curse words here n there a/n: i reference a bunch of pjo characters in this so if u haven’t read pjo *crowd booing*

so donghyuck’s the son of apollo right

there’s like no arguing when it comes to that

he’s extremely talented at singing and making music, dancing, rapping, songwriting, so he’s no doubt apollo’s offspring

and he’s naturally gifted at archery as well

you can’t spell haechan without ACE teehee

u on the other hand

you’re athena’s child

you love to read and write you’re incredibly smart ofc

you love competing and winning and taking part in strategy making to bring your opponents DOWN 💅🏼

athena’s the goddess of wisdom as well as warcraft so needless to say you’re exceptional in both fields

you’re not just textbook smart, no no, you’re able to apply all the knowledge you learn…well…irl

not to mention you’re good with all kinds of weapons

ur fave weapons include swords and spears :D

you’re okay w knives too!!! and daggers!!! you’re not picky

but you’re better w longer blades just cuz u have more experience w them

fun fact: you’re the head of the athena cabin and donghyuck’s the head of the apollo cabin

you’re both great leaders, always doing your best to make the best strategies to win capture the flag, the chariot races, and other fun activities chiron plans for the campers 😁

but . you guys are Sworn Enemies

actually the better term to use would be “rivals”

you guys r So competitive to the point where you actually developed a rivalry during your first few years at camp half-blood

donghyuck LOVES to win but so do you… so obv he’s gonna go out of his way to make sure he/his cabin wins

that doesn’t mean you’ve ever backed down from his challenges…

if he’s competitive you’re twice as competitive

one day after breakfast during your fifth year at camp when you’re both about 18, chiron decides to host a good old game of capture the flag

u know . for old times’ sake 😼

once he makes the announcement you immediately turn to your cabin mates

“we have to win no matter what”

“y/n, it’s just capture the flag. we’re not fighting gaea”

“bitch are u in or not”

the entire dining hall is buzzing with excitement

nothing makes a demigod’s day like a capture the flag announcement 😌

chiron suddenly grabs the megaphone again and calls out “this time however there’s a little twist,” he chuckles as everybody goes silent

you raise an eyebrow

“you’ll be in teams of course. everybody has to play. there’s twenty cabins, so there will be ten teams of two cabins each. i’ll pair you guys up myself. each pair gets a flag–so there’s ten flags in total. the game will be won by the pair who manages to collect all flags and brings them back to their base before anyone has the chance to steal their own flag.”

the demigods burst into intense chatter and discussion once more

you turn your head back to your siblings and tilt your head in slight confusion

you’ve never played capture the flag in teams before

“anyone but apollo. i’m literally begging. sam, pray to athena right now”

“y/n RELAX”

“i think if we’re partners with apollo’s cabin i’ll actually jump into tartarus”

“…”

“what? percy and annabeth survived” 🙄

chiron pulls out a scroll and calls out the pairings one by one

poseidon and demeter, hades and ares (good luck to them), so on and so forth

your heart keeps racing . athena’s name has not been called out yet

and just like that your worst fear comes true

“athena cabin with apollo cabin. the game will commence in thirty minutes, which is how much time you have to prepare. good luck and stay safe!”

you drop your head into your palm (aka head in hands meme jpg)

“this is the worst day of my entire life”

“y/n, you’re hands down the most dramatic person i’ve ever met”

maybe it’s just you–bc your siblings seem fine with the apollo kids

they have so many apollo cabin friends :(

curse u and donghyuck’s little rivalry that the entire camp and chiron knows about

so him putting yall together definitely was not a coincidence cough cough

can u blame him

🌤🌈 he just wants all of u to get along 🌈🌤

he’s seen w his own two centaur eyes what happens when demigods fight between themselves

it’s not healthy

he needs u guys to get along bc u and donghyuck are some of the best demigods at camp rn

ur quick wits and amazing sword skills

his position as the camp’s best archer

imagine how powerful yall would be if u two worked together

if only you got along from the start.. but nooooo

ur egos r just too high F

but anyway, back to the present

you’re sitting there, head in your hands, dreading this already when some of the apollo kids swagger over to your guys’ table

donghyuck is in front of them as he scoffs after seeing your dreadful state

“why the sad face, y/n?”

you lift your head up to see him hovering over your seat and roll your eyes

you get up and your siblings follow

you’re just gonna have to make do. you don’t have time to complain

the thing is

you’ve only lost capture the flag once 👎🏼

a few summers ago the apollo cabin defeated the entire camp leaving everybody speechless

it’s true they didn’t defeat JUST you but somehow you thought it was personal

you had the PERFECT record 😕

zero losses . only wins

but bc of the apollo kids your cabin’s record was tarnished

which is sorta why you started hating them (esp donghyuck their leader) so much

donghyuck caught on immediately and made it a point to compete just as hard as u

so yea. that’s how you became rivals

he knows how much ur gonna hate working with him but u don’t really have a choice now do u :/

so he knows exactly why u have a sad face

but this is donghyuck we’re talking about

just bc yall r “rivals” doesn’t mean he’s not gonna tease u 😂😂😂

(or maybe he teases u bc he thinks ur cute and he hopes one day u realise him teasing is actually donghyuck for flirting 🤭)

“you know damn well why, lee donghyuck”

“oh c’mon i think it’ll be fun! if we combine our skills, we definitely have a hundred percent chance of winning”

you cross your arms and glance at your siblings who just shrug in agreement

you sigh loudly

“don’t even think about fucking this is up, donghyuck. and just so we’re clear, i’m in charge”

he laughs, “yup! got it”

so you start talking strategy

you only have 30 minutes so you need to make the best of it

you divide the two cabins into pairs so that an athena and an apollo kid will be paired together and in charge of smth diff

you have plenty of people on your team – 5 in athena’s cabin and 5 in apollo’s cabin

some will handle weapons and safety gear, some will handle mapping out the playing area which was basically the entirety of the woods, some will be setting up traps near your team’s flag to prevent others from coming close

30 minutes quickly pass and after dividing the work and planning your strategy with donghyuck and friends you turn your attention back to chiron who has his megaphone in hand

everyone’s told to gather outside the dining hall at the open field before the game commences

you, donghyuck, and your teammates briefly talk strategy once more . just to make sure everybody knows what they’re supposed to do

“let the game begin!” chiron blows a loud whistle and the demigods scramble out of the field, going to their designated flag locations

your spot is near a little creek, but the forest around your flag is quite dense so u figure it’s relatively hard to locate

it’s not that late so the afternoon sun makes your skin glisten with sweat

“damn, can you tell your dad to chill tf out for a while,” you tell donghyuck jokingly

he just rolls his eyes but on the inside he’s kinda glad you’re being casual with him rather than 😡😡😡😡😡 like u normally are

u don’t know what it is about him today but u swear he’s acting different around u

he wasn’t… as annoying while discussing strategy ????

he actually ?????? listened ?????? to what u had to say 🤔🤔🤔🤔

he didn’t argue, he didn’t even throw around witty burns like he usually does w/o hesitation

u were like… is he ok

little do u know!!! he actually l*kes u 🤭🤭🤭

well… it’s not a 100% fact that HE himself knows as well

but his siblings caught on to his weird behaviour n figured smth was up

mark being one of hyuck’s closest friends n siblings in the apollo cabin, realised he was acting weird ever since yall got grouped together

he seemed nervous ⁉️ which he never ever is

he’s like the most confident person mark’s ever known

so mark was like *thinks*

after putting two and two together mark came to the conclusion that he might have a small crush on u

bc hyuck kept glancing over at u, kept talking abt how ur a good leader (he’s never gonna tell YOU that tho. he crossed his heart on that one)

mark was like i didn’t even ask but ok

mark was confused at first tho cuz everybody and their mom knows about your guys’ rivalry so why tf would hyuck have a crush on someone he considers his rival

mark decides not to get ahead of himself bc hey!!! maybe he doesn’t have a crush, maybe he just thinks ur a good leader

like that’s it u know?

LMAO 🤫

so anywayz where was i

ah right

the flag

OK SO ur team’s flag is yellow ! :D

it’s like the colour of sunflowers

you and donghyuck r in charge of guarding the flag while ur team members scout around for the other flags

easy peasy

you and donghyuck are at your base now, weapons drawn just in case

the flag is hung on a poll couple feet taller than you

you’re dressed in ur usual training clothes – a pair of washed out shorts, a very old orange camp half-blood shirt; your sword’s sheath hanging from one of the belt loops of your shorts

donghyuck’s dressed similarly – a pair of blue ripped jeans, the same orange camp shirt tucked into them, but he has a purple flannel on, which he takes off and ties around his waist

“it’s so freaking hot,” he says, mentally agreeing with the comment u made about apollo earlier

“tell me about it”

there’s a silence that follows, the only sound heard is the subtle flow of the creek water

you’re thankful for the silence

it’s easier to keep an ear open for opponents on their way to steal your flag

just as you think about it, an ares and a hades kid approach your base

they’re on the other side of the creek, less than ten to fifteen feet away

“hi y/n,” the hades kid you’re kind of close to says

you shoot him a fake smile before holding your sword in front of you

donghyuck pulls out an arrow from his quiver and nocks it in his bow, aiming for the two demigods in front of you

the creek isn’t that deep, so the two demigods cross it with ease

they have their weapons drawn; they’re now a couple of feet away from you and more importantly the flag

no words are said as donghyuck lets his arrow fly and knock the hades’ kid sword out of his hands

he didn’t use an arrow with a sharp tip, you note

the hades’ kid stumbles backwards, imbalanced after he gets unarmed

you stand your ground as the ares’ kid scrambles forward, attacking you with her sword

your blades clash defiantly

you continue to spar with all your might

from the corner of your eye you see that the hades’ kid, sword back in hand, is battling donghyuck on your left

the flag is right behind you and donghyuck; you can’t let the two demigods get near it

you and the ares kid are still battling each other, putting all your strength into making sure she surrenders

but u should know better

ares and athena kids have many similarities like their love for winning, their confidence in battle, etc.

it’s like looking in a mirror

you don’t have anything against this particular ares kid, though

“c’mon, y/n, give up already”

that REALLY makes your blood boil

you never give up, no matter what

with one final blow of your sword, you knock her sword out of her hands, making her think she distracted you with her words

she goes flying back, half her body landing in the creek water

her sword lies in between you and her, but you doubt she’ll have the courage to fight again

the hades kid sees this and quickly scrambles away from hyuck, picking up the ares kid’s sword and giving her a hand up

“this is why i hate you and your siblings–your huge ego always gets in the way,” you hear the hades kid grumble to his partner as they run away from you, shame written all over their defeat

hyuck laughs and wipes sweat from his forehead

you can’t help but laugh either

you love it here at 🧡 camp half-blood 🧡

a few moments pass as your teammates emerge from the dense woods, each pair with a different colour flag held between them

you smile in victory

you quickly bring down your flag from its pole and give it to hyuck

“me? it was your plan…”

“yeah, but i couldn’t have done it without you, hyuck”

he almost passes out at your choice of nickname

back at the main hall, chiron announces your team as the winner, and that the prize yall being excused from doing chores all week long!!!!

it’s not much, but hey, at least you and hyuck ended up working together and winning the game, right?

later, hyuck pulls you aside from your cabin mates, and walks you to the lakeside

you two sit at the deck, side by side, watching the water doing nothing in particular

you watch as hyuck swings his feet lightly, his toes barely touching the water

“y/n, do you hate me?” donghyuck asks out of the blue

you’re like 😳 what

now that he asks you that . like straight up . it makes u think

do u REALLY hate him

or do u just hate losing to him

“why would i hate you?” you question back

“i don’t know? i guess because of our, um, rivalry thing i thought you can’t stand me”

you play with the beads of your camp necklace

“i don’t hate you, donghyuck. i just hate losing. i guess it’s the athena in me,” you laugh at how lame you sound

“i hate losing too, but i don’t hate you, in case you’re wondering.”

he takes a deep breath

“i know we started going against one another ‘cause of that one time my cabin won capture the flag, but i don’t want things to stay this way,” he pushes his hair back

“i guess what i’m saying is… i like working with you.” he pauses

“yeah,” he says, as if more convinced now, “and i would really like to get to know you better,” he clears his throat, very clearly embarrassed

you laugh at his flustered state

“stop laughing at me,” he stretches the last syllable as he lightly shoves you with his shoulder

you’re trying even harder to not laugh now, but for his sake, you hold it in

“that’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever said”

he crosses his arms, “i’m always cute”

you’re like. THE NERVE?????? 😒😒😒

“how ‘bout we go slow? i mean, we just became un-enemies, we’re gonna need to be friends first, right?” you poke his shoulder

“you make a good point”

“i’m literally athena’s child, but okay”

“shut up!”

✨ time skip ✨

both u and hyuck stay at camp over the holidays which means more bonding time!!! yay!!!!!

a year has passed and u and hyuck r basically bffs, attached at the hip, and everybody except mark is surprised as fuck

rmb the days when hyuck thought u were “cute”?

welp 🤭 he’s at that point where everything u do makes his heart flutter

yeah… he likes u Like A Lot

u have no clue abt his feelings for u and he has no clue abt ur feelings for him either

exactly a year after the iconic capture the flag game, ur both seated at the deck by the lakeside, side by side, again

“y/n…there’s something you need to know”

“if you’re gonna tell me about the mixtape you’re dropping with mark, i literally don’t want to hear it”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME”

“YOU GOT THE ENTIRE CAMP’S HOPES UP FOR NO REASON”

both of you burst into fits of laughter

after calming down, he shoves your shoulder lightly with his shoulder, like he always does (only to u tho)

“no, seriously, i need to tell you something”

“what’s up?”

“i,” he pauses, clears his throat, “like you. a lot–i have for a while now.”

you swear your heart stops beating and your brain explodes

HE? LIKES? U?????????

he continues, “i don’t know if you like me back, but i’ve been wanting to tell you this for so long–guess i didn’t have the courage until recently,” he lets out an airy laugh

you’re looking at him in the eyes now; a subtle shimmer of the afternoon sun sparkling in his eyes

“hyuck, i like you too. how could i possibly not?” you chuckle at his shocked expression

he goes :O

he’s genuinely speechless when you lean forward and press your lips ever so softly onto his

you literally feel him freeze, which worries you for a second, but your worry is washed away when he slowly kisses you back

you melt right then and there

he takes your hand in his, interlocking fingers, as you pull away, a faint pink blush painting both your cheeks

“wow”

“really, y/n? that’s all you have to say? what happened to being wisdom’s child, huh?”

“donghyuck, i SWEAR to ALL THE GODS–!”

your sentence is cut off when he presses his lips onto yours again, you smile into the kiss which causes him to smile with you

he kisses you again and again, and then again, until you’re both a giggling mess

“let’s stay like this forever, yeah? what do you say?” he says, bringing his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back and looking at you

you look at your intertwined hands, and then back up at him, “i’d like that”

[atozfic]

Love when people reveal themselves as being so obviously online and insulated in leftist/progressive circles that they seem to forget that the rest of the world is not nearly as accepting or supportive of not conforming of gender roles as these spaces are. Like when did you say the reason anyone likes femsub or the reason it's popular at all is because they're young or don't know anything about sex? To me it's pretty clear you were talking about it as a larger trend and why it's so much popular than everything else overall. And to be completely frank, what is the reason femsub is so much popular than anything else OVERALL (not why any individual person likes it or it has any kind of appeal), if not gender roles? Are women just naturally more submissive than men (not saying you think this)? Because I have seen people say this, yes even so-called "feminist" men and women, that my preferences are unnatural because men evolved to be sexually dominant and women evolved to be sexually submissive, and that I'll never be in a happy or satisfying relationship unless I make myself more submissive and change my preferences because men just naturally don't like dominant women. I'm pretty sure you would not like if I took those hurtful and negative experiences and said any woman is submissive is that way is because they're misogynists who just think it's all women's nature to be submissive. And I'm pretty sure of this cause of the way that you freaked out when you even THOUGHT somebody might be implying that when they weren't. So why the fuck is it okay for you to say dom women are the way that we are because we think we're "enlightened" or more strong or better than everyone else and only like what we like because we want to be ~not like other girls~ for attention because of your negative experiences? And I like how they only talk about submissive or vanilla women getting shamed, so true bestie, dom type women, sexually or otherwise, never get shamed for their preferences. Nope, never ever. It's not like people always joke about women "wearing the pants" in the relationship and how it means she doesn't respect her partner. It's not like assertive or aggressive women are called a "bitch" but when men act that way it's sexy. It's not like religion teaches women they have to submit to men or no man will ever love them or they'll never be happy. It's not like people say that women that want to be dominant are "acting like men" or "want to be men" and therefore are unattractive, as if dominance is inherently masculine thing. It's not like a lot of men genuinely believe that all/most women want to be dominated in bed and so they don't even have to ask, they just do things to you and try to dominate you without your permission or consent or without ever having talked about that kind of thing before. Nope, we must have it sooo easy because we've got grrrrllll powerrr on our side, all women love us cause they think we're such cool independent and empowered women, and all men love us cause they think we're just so cool and not like the other girls. Like honestly, I don't assume to know what they experience of submissive women is like or that they must have it so easy because they're preferences are in line with gender roles, because I'm not one and i know they don't always have it easy because I've heard of women in the irl bdsm community being treated badly by shitty men who think it's okay to abuse them or do whatever they want to them because they're sub identified (or sometimes just because they're women). So why is it okay for you to assume what are experience is like?

I'm not involved in any real life bdsm community because corona and I'm anti-social bitch but I do like to lurk on online communities for fun (something I should probably stop doing cause it's not good for my mento health luv lmao). This whole thing reminds me of these weird ass screeds I sometimes come across by straight male doms on reddit where they go on and on trying to reconcile their desires with feminist politics either because a) they're genuinely a misogynistic piece of shit and people call them out on it or b) they're genuinely progressive/humanist men who have some difficulty reconciling their desire to be dominant with feminism for whatever reason. And so they do this weird thing where they project these worries and insecurities outwards, and manufacture a situation where anyone who criticises gender roles at all is against them personally, and it would be so much easier if they were just a female dom instead, everyone would apparently have no problem at all with them then, cause grrrrllll powerrr.

I don't like to engage in armchair psychology but the follow-up ask from that anon made it pretty clear to me that they have some insecurities around reconciling their preference for submission with feminism because of some negative and hurtful experiences, and so they deal with it by projecting it onto anyone that suggests that gender roles might be why SOME people gravitate more towards it and why it's so much more popular than everything else. I'm sorry that those people said those things to you anon, they're wrong, but a) most of those people tend to be against all bdsm in general, not just femsub and b) you need to work out those insecurities by yourself. You can't lash out at anyone who tries to talk about the relationship between societal norms and preferences at all, it's not helpful or productive.

Also how do they know those people unfollowed you for that reason? Is that an assumption or a verifiable fact? I'm not necessarily saying they didn't either, I'm not a mind reader, but like, some people are just sexist and think women are naturally submissive, sexually or otherwise. I've met them before.

to quote my therapist: that was alot to unpack.

i'm gonna give a longer reply under the cut but i just want to state here i'm not posting this ask to offend or hurt, or even "one-up", the original anon who sent that ask regarding sub!females. i have no issue with them and, again, think they're in every right to send their original ask. i'm posting it because i do think this anon made some very interesting points and brought up alot of worthy of being discussed topics.

let me also put a disclaimer here that i am not a genius nor someone very well-versed in gender politics, i'm simply a twat on the internet with a negative mindset.

"Love when people reveal themselves as being so obviously online and insulated in leftist/progressive circles that they seem to forget that the rest of the world is not nearly as accepting or supportive of not conforming of gender roles as these spaces are."

this. omfg, t h i s. i see this so much, especially in my younger cousins/relatives who are just now beginning to develop their own political opinions. let's take the conversation away from dom/sub for one second and just focus on gender in society. one of the clearest examples of gender affecting the way someone is treated/viewed is something i've experienced first-hand: i was misdiagnosed four times before i was correctly given my diagnosis for ASD, because most of the studies regarding it center around boys and, therefore, most women go undiagnosed. in fact, for years it was believed only men could have it which is why there has been such a surgence in the past few years of adult women being diagnosed with autism. i remember hitting high school, experiencing academic burn-out (thanks to everything moving too fast + my classmates catching up to me intellectually) and having my teachers treat me like i was an imbecile, or i was lazy, rather than just someone with neurodivergence. (this isn't me implying tjat men with ASD have it easy or that society accepts them anymore than women, it's only easier for them to get diagnosed.)

"it's not like people always joke about women wearing the pants."

this applies to both the shaming of dom women and sub men. the amount of men who get treated like they're "losing their manhood" for letting a women(or anyone else) dom them is ridiculous.

honestly, I think at the end of the day (and to close up this whole issue-that's-not-really-an-issue), we're unfortunately always going to live in a world where people have opinions against either side of the dom/sub spectrum, or the whole bdsm community in general. the best thing we can do is try lessen the internal conflict, especially between dom and sub women. we gotta stop treating each other like the enemy when all we really are is people with a differing preference. at the end of the day, what someone chooses to do in their bedroom is no one else's business (unless it harms anyone) and we need to take away the importance we seem to put on it. we're on a floating rock in space, who cares if becky likes to peg her boyfriend on a sunday morning or if stacy likes to be tied up on a thursday evening?

also, anon, i like the way you worded this whole ask. despite it being long, it was easy to read and you made some great points. sorry my reply isn't more exciting, i just in general agree with most of what you've said.