#my sister shouldn’t have reminded me that her friend follows me lmao

[kadens-a-bee]

My sister and her friend are trying to see how long they can go without seeing Dream’s face and her friend follows me and I’m gonna ruin their life /lh /hj

[butwhatifidothis]

So. Took a look into that fic @nilsh13 is going through the comments of. Dunno if I’ll actually go through the entire thing - 300k words is certainly a lot of words to read through, especially with it still updating, but I’ve read through/am reading through longer ones - but I jumped to the latest chapter to get a feel for where the fic’s at now.

I’m not halfway through the chapter and I have Words To Say lmao, under the cut

This is going to be as serious a critique about the sections I’ve selected as possible - I want to be clear why I think what is being written is not of high quality, pointing out specifically what I have wrong with it. 

Here are some snippets of the fic (boldened), and following those snippets are my thoughts on them:

“My actions have caused immense turmoil, pitting friend against friend, mother against daughter, and brother against sister*,” muttered Edelgard, desperately trying to drive any hint of self-pity (emphasis mine) from her voice. “My best friend has been disowned by her family, Hubert and Ferdinand’s fathers are dead or imprisoned, and the woman I love is now deemed a heretic by the Church that once offered her shelter. The weight of my decisions seems to pull down all who are caught in the shadow of the Imperial crown.” The Flame Emperor gave Professor Hanneman a wan smile. “Whatever imagined slights you believe you have committed against me, they pale in comparison to the carnage my own words and deeds have unleashed.” 

""I made my choice, the only choice I could make, and dragged this continent down to hell with me. It makes me a poor ruler, and an even baser person, but that was the path I knew I must take."" 

“"It is funny you use the word ‘choice’, Miss Edelgard. When I resigned my title to study at Garreg Mach, I lost marriage prospects, became penniless outside of a small stipend…I even renounced the opportunity to have a family.” Hanneman smiled, his whole body suffused with melancholy. “Really, how could I dare to dream of bringing a daughter into a world this senseless and cruel, knowing that someday, she too, could be hurt in such a way? I…I would not survive it.” The man’s body shook. “I sacrificed those things, things I desperately wanted, because the chance to allow my sister to rest in peace was more important. And I would make that choice again, despite all that it has cost me. You are much the same.”"

"“But your sacrifices were your own,” protested the Emperor of Adrestia. “Thousands bleed for the choices that I have made, and sacrifice themselves for the cause that I have placed before them. There is a profound difference-“"

"“We are both wise enough to know a painful truth,” said the scholar with a melancholy smile. “No matter how grave the sins, no matter how many innocents suffer…there will be countless individuals who will defend the law not because it is just, or righteous, but because it is the law. They will permit a hundred Abysses, and a thousand women to be raped, and a million dead children, as long as such actions do not disturb their order.” He placed a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder. “To stand against such moral rot, knowing that the world will despise and vilify you for it, is the truest sign of not only a just ruler, but a good woman.”"

"The academic’s words blazed with the passion of both a scholar and a man who had watched his world crumble to ash. A man who had been forced to live in the remnants of a life forever altered by the cruelty of both society and of humanity. And yet he had fought, the only way he could, to make the world better. It gave the Flame Emperor new resolve."

"“I…” He turned and looked away. “I believe in you, Miss Edelgard. When I see you, and your determination, your spirit, your bravery in choosing not what is easy, but what is right…it reminds me of her.” Fingers clenched around his locket. “I will fight for you, in the way I should have fought for my sister, long ago. My strength is meagre, and my courage more meagre still. However, all of it is yours.”" 

The author writes Edelgard as one trying to give pity onto herself for her actions, despite how negatively they affect her, due to the immense ramifications those actions have had on those both around her and those under her care. This is the appropriate response to someone who has done as morally dubious an action as starting and spearheading a war that has led to the deaths and suffering of countless innocent people, some of whom were undoubtedly already going through immense suffering without war compounding itself onto their already existing pain. She - rightfully - points as, as a negative towards herself, that she has forced thousands of people to sacrifice their lives, livelihoods, friends, family, homes, etc. in order to continue with her war. Edelgard's canonical self-justification - that she had no other choice to do this - is properly utilized, and further characterization is given to her when she herself recognizes that performing such horrendous actions on the people under her care makes her a poor ruler and terrible person. This is, in truth, a decent set-up for her to go onto a possible path of redemption or self-realization.

However, that progress is forcibly stopped and reverted by Hanneman justifying her actions and recontextualizing them in a morally good light. In fact, the entire story does this, as characters act wildly out of character in order for Edelgard to be seen as good in comparison to them. Focusing on the quoted lines, however, Hanneman relating him giving up nobility and going into momentary poverty - whether true to canon or not - to Edelgard's war actively paints her actions as something that she had a right to be making, which she does not, as they force others to make sacrifices for her cause. When she herself rightfully points this discrepancy out, Hanneman excuses her actions by pointing to another - supposed - source of turmoil and essentially saying "You are more right than x, therefore your y actions are not only better, but objectively good, and make you a good person." He says nothing of the inherent injustice of taking away the choice of the people to live as they want and fight for who they want as well as deliberately taking away any semblance of safety from them, and makes objective statements about Edelgard's moral righteousness despite her taking actions that would, by definition, make her moral righteousness a subjective matter at minimum.

Hanneman is projecting the image of his sister and his own personal sense of justice onto Edelgard, and thus sees her as just as much a victim of the war and society as everyone else. Edelgard is a young woman who has gone through trauma due to Crests, as was his sister, and he himself (in this story, though not within the quoted lines) wanted to beat the man who abused his sister to death, and so he sees Edelgard using violence as a means to achieve justice as not only not questionable, but morally good and brave, as he felt he was not brave enough to enact "justice" onto the man that caused his sister's death. Instead of this being settled, focused on, or even mentioned, despite its obvious nature due to deliberate connections Hanneman himself makes, it is used as a means to showcase that Hanneman is a, for lack of a better term, "expert" on what he is saying when speaking to Edelgard. He knows what it's like to want to force change, he has by-proxy experienced the apparent injustice of the Church - not human society, not his family's decision to allow his sister to be married off, not the man who caused her death's decision to discard her, but strictly the Church and only the Church - and so he can "rightfully" justify and excuse Edelgard's morally questionable actions and paint them in a solely positive light, with no nuance or gray whatsoever.

Edelgard, in the first quote, attempts to say her actions without a tone of self-pity, and yet the narrative itself pities Edelgard. She should be allowed to feel bad about her actions - not because they are causing unfathomable suffering on people who were underserving, but because they’re just hard decisions that she was good and brave to make and maybe she can feel a little bad for herself for making them. She shouldn't feel responsible for choosing to start the war - in fact, did she really have a choice, or did everyone else in society force her to? She shouldn't question whether she's a good person or not, because she simply is - no debate, no question. She is - “justly” - standing up against "moral rot"; that she does so with even more moral rot is irrelevant, because, according to the story, it is not as rotten as that she's up against, therefore it is no longer rotten in the first place. War has been completely justified, as it is now not the last resort of desperation that could only ever be morally grey at its absolute best, but an objectively morally white decision of an objectively morally white person who is facing an objectively morally black opponent.

The actions of other characters attempt to paint Edelgard as someone closer to the former, but I will - maybe - eventually go over how those characters are extremely mischaracterized in order to prop Edelgard as their moral superior. 

[gilly-bj]

1: This is not a “why Levi will end up with Mikasa”, at all. I’m not trying to boost our confidence in RM because I don’t want us to get hurt again, okay? Fine. Always remember that those 10 pages might be even worse than 139 but we will never stop shipping RM . Always remember the 138 beautiful chapters and ignore the shitty one.

2: looong post. 

3: Constructive hmhmh no criticism to Erem*ka. Now let’s start.

No one ever asked me why I think Levi is the right man for Mikasa (and viceversa); when I interact with non rivamikas, they are too busy hating on me and my ship to show a bit of respect and interest towards my opinions and thoughts. I wrote this post because I think that this question needs to be answered, especially after 139. These are six reasons why I think that Levi deserves to be Mikasa’s man.

(I’m doing Levi version first because Mikasa is the one who’s in a toxic “relationship” with a possessive “man”)

i) He helped her with her development.

Since Season 1, Levi has always helped Mikasa to grow as a person. In fact, Levi was the first one who made her realize that her actions have consequences that sometimes are not very pleasant. She understood that, even if Eren is in danger, the other people around her exist and they might get hurt because of her reckless behaviors. Talking about Eren, only with Levi, Mikasa stopped being Eren’s obsessive mother and became an independent woman, which is exactly the opposite of what she’s now with her “love” Eren. I think that Levi will help Mikasa to move on from Eren once he will return to Paradise, and I also think that she will find someone to love. I remember Armin’s words in 139:

The fact that three years have passed and Mikasa is still single makes me realize that probably this “someone” is a man from her group of friends. They left her alone for three years (clap clap 👏 good job, you too Levi 😒), and she hasn’t fallen in love during those years, so maybe once they will return to Paradise she will meet again this “someone” and they will finally fall in love. Now, we have three candidates for this role:

Jean

Levi

Connie yes im serious

I know that Jean had a crush on Mikasa but, I think that he doesn’t love her anymore. To me, Jean realized that his feelings were not returned so He decided to give up on her, if he had feelings for her, he would have followed her to Paradise, don’t you think? And I think that Jean deserves more; I believe that you shouldn’t wait your crush for years, if you both fall in love then fine but if one of the two as a crush on the other for more than 5 years but the other doesn’t return his/her feelings then the other should say bye 👋🏻

Then we have Levi, and Connie yes I’m serious. I have already said why I think that Levi will help Mika to move on so I repeat myself. And I ship Conkasa 🙃🙂 nahhh im joking but they are cute.

ii) He respects her.

It was confirmed various times trough the story that Levi respects Mikasa, and viceversa. Respect is one of the “rudiments” of a relationship. Yesterday, I was reading this article online about why respect is important in a relationship, and the first point got me in a particular way: 

“1. Respect sees through the good and learns to accept the bad. When you are in love with someone, all you see are their best qualities, both inside and out. At the same time, you set aside their flaws and weaknesses, to tolerate these as much as you can. Respect doesn’t work that way.

When you have respect for the person you chose to be in a relationship with, you come to accept the person’s beauty and flaws, the bitter and sweet, and good and the bad. And from the acceptance, you both learn to adjust to each other’s systems and come up with a compromise that you can live with. Toppled with love, respect serves as the fuel to keep any relationship moving” 

The last part reminds me of Rivamika; Levi and Mikasa both know that the other has his own beauty and flaws, and they accept each other that way. They don’t set those flaws aside to tolerate each other more, they just accept them and they love each other the way they are. With Eren instead, Mikasa has always set aside his flaws because she didn’t want to see them and she always misinterpreted his actions. I want to see an independent woman and not a girl who doesn’t want to accept that her crush is not perfect. Mikasa has to understand that it’s okay if she says “fuck you” for once. Wake up girl.

iii) He cares for her.

Levi has always cared for Mikasa since Season 1, even if I think that in the beginning, he cared for her just as a simple soldier since they didn’t know each other that much. After their first meeting, things changed on Levi’s side and on Mikasa’s as well; she learned to respect him, and Levi started to understand that gloomy brat, to the point that she became special to him; indeed, the way Levi treats Mikasa is very different from the way he treats everyone else, even the other women (Petra, Hisu, Hanji, Sasha) Please my Mika wake up. It’s sad that many think it’s just simple affection because “oh they are cousins he loves her just like a sister bla bla bla”. Sorry to tell you but I don’t have that much tension with my brother 😏😏 and some blind people still say that he hates when he:

Broke his ankle to save her

Always reminds her to calm down and to not be reckless because she can hurt the others but also herself

Always looks at her from afar to check if she’s okay

Literally cried when she was having one of her headaches (138)

Blind people 😏

iiii) He understands her.

Levi understands Mikasa’s feelings; they are very similar, and Mikasa found herself in situations Levi had already lived, from loosing her friends and family to the awakening of their power. And that’s also why Levi plays a big part in her development; remember in Season 1 when Annie kidnapped Eren and Mikasa lost her mind? Okay so when Levi saw her like that, he reminded of his younger self’s reaction to Isabel and Farlan’s death, and that’s why he acted in a soft way towards her; he already knew that in that situation, she wouldn’t have even looked at him if he didn’t act in a soft way. He knew she was lost so he took control of the situation.

Screenshot from: chapter 30.

iiiii) He’s a real man.

In my personal vocabulary, 139 Eren doesn’t fit the definition of man. Someone that treats a woman like that doesn’t deserve to be called “man” (same with women obviously). To me, a man is someone that’s able to respect his lover, that doesn’t treat her like an object and that thinks about her happiness first (that’s literally what love means lmao) (and more). Saying “I want her to be happy” is not enough when he wrapped the scarf around her again, knowing that she was suffering and she was not able to set herself free. If Eren really loved her, he wouldn’t wrapped the scarf around her again. Levi instead fits my definition of “man”, I’d say perfectly. He has always respected her, and he wants the best for Mikasa. He showed to love her, at least platonically, numerous times, he showed care about her physical and mental well-being. I think that Levi could make Mikasa feel loved, what her “lover” Eren has never done since he always treated her badly. Mikasa doesn’t know much about relationships, and Levi too, but with Levi she would understand what a real relationship looks like. And personally, I don’t want Mikasa to end up with someone like 139 Eren.

iiiiii) He his her ideal type and they share the same life goals.

Two months ago, I wrote this post named “How much are Mikasa and Levi compatible?”. There I listed all the reasons why I believe that Levi and Mikasa are each other’s ideal type. I’m not going to repeat myself, so if you want to read it, click here. Anyway, they share the same life goals, that are: a peaceful life in the middle of nature and a family since they both have a soft spot on children.

What do you think? Do you have other reasons why you think that Levi is perfect for Mikasa? I hope you liked this post and feel free to share your opinions!

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

what do you think of aang's comments in "the southern raiders" and what they meant to katara? I watched that episode recently with my sister who dislikes atla, and assessed similar things to what certain people of the fandom are saying: "aang didn't understand her", "aang was pushing his beliefs onto her", "it didn't seem like he knew her", etc. she was more fair than those people of course because she did say it was realistic that he'd be so worried since she recognizes that he does love her.

Honestly those arguments are all,, tired. They’re outdated. They’re boring. They’re wrong. They’re a result of a fundamental misunderstanding of A:TLA canon. This isn’t to say that those who genuinely, truly believe these arguments are terrible people (obviously not lmao), but somewhere along the line they had a seed planted in their mind that posits them to have inherent dislike for Aang. And honestly? I just feel sorry for them, because not understanding and appreciating Aang means their A:TLA experience really can’t be that great. But I digress!

“aang didn’t understand her”

Oh, what’s the post? Right - “Fandom once again forgets that Aang is the sole survivor of genocide.” Aang understands better than anyone else what Katara is going through*. There is a direct parallel between Aang finding Gyatso’s skeleton and Katara finding Kya’s body. I’m not going to sit here and argue which was more traumatizing (literally can’t stand when people do that) because you can’t quantify grief like that, but it cannot be denied that Aang has experienced something incredibly similar to what Katara has gone through: the loss of a close parental figure followed by finding said parent’s corpse. Not only that, but Aang and Katara both share a unique sense of helplessness intertwined with their grief regarding their parental figures’ deaths. For Katara, there are the questions of:

- what if I wasn’t a waterbender

- what if I had run a little faster

- what if I had fought against Yon Rha back then

All leading to “Could I have saved her?” For Aang, there are the questions of:

- what if I wasn’t the Avatar

- what if I hadn’t run away

- what if I had stayed to fight the Fire Nation back then

All leading to “Could I have saved him?” Both of them feel incredibly guilty on a personal level about the death of their parental figures, thus blaming themselves. Katara tries to push it off onto Zuko/the Fire Nation and Aang tries to suppress it entirely, but ultimately it is revealed how closely they hold responsibility to their chests. For Aang, it comes out in “The Storm.” For Katara, it comes out in “The Southern Raiders.” So, bullshit that Aang doesn’t understand Katara! He understands her grief better than anyone.

Also, many, many people have gone into this before, but Aang’s example of Appa being stolen was not callous/rude/etc. Appa was the last living piece of his culture. Appa is not “just a pet.” People who insist so are the actual ones being callous, not Aang. And, as Aang himself says, “How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?” Aang has experienced more hurt at the hands of the Fire Nation than anyone. There’s a great meta here that delves into Aang’s experiences as the sole survivor of genocide. I don’t understand how someone could acknowledge all that Aang has lost (read: he has lost everything) and then argue that he doesn’t understand Katara’s pain. Like, what? Do you have no sense of empathy?

But most importantly, from Katara herself: “Thanks for understanding, Aang.” She says this after her initial dismissal of him. So take it from the source, my friend - Katara believed Aang understood her. Who are we to argue?

*The only exception perhaps being Sokka, since Kya was indeed his mother, too, but it is worth noting that Sokka did not have the same experience of seeing Kya’s dead body or feeling the intense self-blame that Katara did.

“aang was pushing his beliefs onto her”

It is SO funny how those SAME people have NO problem with everyone in the Gaang telling Aang to kill Ozai the finale! Y’know, when they were disregarding the pacifistic beliefs of his people in exchange for emphasizing their, ahem, more aggressive ones? SO funny! I’m laughing SO hard right now!

Heavy sarcasm, in case it wasn’t obvious. They’re hypocrites and they know it.

But, more importantly, Aang was not pushing his beliefs onto her? At all?? Tell me where in the episode Aang:

- refused to let Katara go after Yon Rha

- told Katara what she was doing was wrong

- told Katara that HE was right and that SHE needed to listen to HIM

Here’s the thing: none of that ever happened! Not only does Aang accept that Katara needs to go (see: “I wasn’t planning to [stop you]. This is a journey you need to take. You need to face this man.”), but he allows her to take Appa on her journey. Appa, the last living piece of his culture. Aang has incredible trust in Katara, and his choice to send Appa with her (essentially sending a piece of himself with her) demonstrates this fact clearly. That should end the discussion point blank, but I guess I’ll break down the lines people seem to have issues with:

1) “It’s okay, because I forgive you. [Pauses.] That give you any ideas?”

Honestly, the criticism this line gets is laughable to me. People use it to argue that Aang was being disrespectful to Katara’s feelings and?? I hate to break it to them, but you HAVE to look at the context a line is in if you’re going to judge it. That is Analysis 101: Context is Everything. This moment is used to break tension. That type of scenario is an entire literary trope, okay? A:TLA did not invent it! Shakespeare literally did it in Romeo and Juliet when he had Peter argue with musicians about something stupid after Juliet’s “death.” The whole point is to break tension before more serious scenes. In R&J, it is before the lovers kill themselves, and in A:TLA, it is before Katara leaves with Zuko to confront Yon Rha. That’s why there’s another moment just like it at the end of that scene! Y’know, Sokka asking to borrow Momo for no reason? It breaks tension! It’s a moment of respite before weighty scenes! It’s incredibly common in every form of media! This is what no Humanities classes did to some of y’all, I swear to God. So yeah, Aang was not disrespecting Katara’s feelings with this. It’s just a tension-breaker. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news for those who devoutly believed it was a sign of Aang being a Horrible Person. You were wrong, ain’t no big thing, go drink some water and stay hydrated okay darlings?

2) “I don’t think so. I think it’s about getting revenge.”

Um, a major point of “The Southern Raiders” is that Aang was right about Katara’s initial drive to face Yon Rha? It was a quest for revenge? Katara literally bloodbends, an ability she was forced to learn and essentially feels cursed to bear? Also, nowhere here does Aang tell Katara she was a horrible person for feeling angry and wanting revenge. He simply brings her attention to the reality that what she’s currently seeking is revenge. He’s worried about her. She’s his best friend! He loves her! He doesn’t want her to kill Yon Rha because he knows that for Katara to have blood on her hands from a revenge quest would hurt her tremendously. (As a matter of fact, the audience knows - or should know - this, too.) So, sorry that Aang expresses concern for her? Apparently not wanting your best friend to murder someone is forcing your beliefs onto them? Damn. Y’all are harsh these days.

3) “The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper. While you watch your enemy go down, you’re being poisoned yourself.” // “Katara, you do have a choice: forgiveness.” // “No, it’s not. It's easy to do nothing, but it’s hard to forgive.” // “But when you do, please don’t choose revenge. Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”

I put all the forgiveness quotes together since people tend to complain about them as a whole. But like,, I really don’t see how this is Aang forcing his beliefs onto her? He asks her to choose forgiveness. And just speaking plainly: on an emotional level, it is better for someone to forgive than to murder. Killing someone is not easy, even if you hate that person with every bone in your body, and it will mentally scar whomever does it. Y’all know this! It’s obvious! I shouldn’t have to say it! But Aang knows this, too, and thus he doesn’t want to see Katara kill Yon Rha and perhaps kill a part of herself in the process. Katara is not a killer. I’m not arguing about whether she could have or even if she wanted to, because you know what, she admits she was tempted, but Katara is not a killer. An FMA quote is very fitting here:

“Your hands weren’t meant to kill. They were meant to give life.”

Why should Katara have to live with a man’s murder on her conscience, especially when his death would be a result of fruitless revenge? The answer is simple: she shouldn’t, and Aang doesn’t want her to. Katara is a warrior. A healer. A leader. A friend. But not a killer.

Anyways. Back to my point: Aang is not forcing his beliefs onto her here. He’s offering her another option, the option she ends up choosing, albeit she extends forgiveness to Zuko instead. And Prince Holier-Than-Thou (jk love you Zuzu) acknowledges it himself: “You [Aang] were right about what Katara needed.” Aang didn’t force anything on Katara here. He reminded her of her choices, he reminded her about the consequences of revenge, and he reminded her about the value of forgiveness. Never once did he tell her she had to forgive Yon Rha or else. And when it came down to it, he stepped aside, and he let her go, because he knew this was a journey she needed to take. So… He actually did the exact opposite of forcing his beliefs onto her! He respected her feelings and let her make her own decision! Seriously, how many pairs of anti-Aang goggles do people have to wear to genuinely believe otherwise??

“it didn't seem like he knew her”

Ohhhhhh my God this is SO close to one of the actual points of the episode! So close!! It’s not that Aang didn’t know her; it’s that Katara wasn’t acting like herself. I’ve talked about it before here and here, but Katara was incredibly consumed by her emotions in “The Southern Raiders.” It’s why she ignores Zuko the entire time before they leave on Appa! It’s why she makes that callous comment to Sokka about their mother that we know she never would have made normally! She is drowning in grief about her mother’s absence, guilt regarding her mother’s death, and anger about Zuko (she still does not trust him, and yet he can lead her to her mother’s killer; I don’t know about y’all, but that is really freaking difficult to reconcile). So when Aang compares her to Jet, it’s not a far-off description. She is acting like Jet, because she’s consumed by grief and hurt and anger and she’s not acting like herself. It is instrumental, too, that Katara isn’t acting like herself, because it makes her decision not to pursue revenge and instead offer a second third chance to Zuko even more profound. “I’m proud of you,” Aang tells her, and damn! The audience is, too! I was incredibly proud of her for finding her way out of what can be a bottomless spiral for some people. So again, it wasn’t that Aang didn’t know her. It was that Katara wasn’t acting like herself (I guess meaning… no one knew her?).

In conclusion, literally all of these anti-Aang arguments regarding TSR are exhausting and so easily disprovable. The fact that they somehow manage to live on is evidence that people just want excuses to hate Aang, plain and simple. Like, it’s so easy to just say you don’t vibe with his character? You don’t have to pull BS excuses to “justify” it? I don’t vibe with Ty Lee as much as I do other characters (although I have recently grown much more fond of her; bless the Renaissance for more Mailee content, even if some of it is just a Zukka byproduct), but y’all don’t see me twisting her sacrifice in “Boiling Rock” to make it seem like it was selfish or something (mostly because, spoiler alert, it wasn’t). Like, you can say Aang isn’t your favorite and move on instead of using the same boring rhetoric over and over and over that just makes it look like you lack critical thinking. :/

TL;DR - Aang’s comments to Katara in “The Southern Raiders” came from a place of concern. A place of wisdom. A place of love. And honestly? I think Katara realizes this, and she’s grateful to him all the more for it.

[vilaneiie]

No Going Back | Emily Sonnett

first imagine done, lmao hope u guys enjoy!

warnings: a little steamy but nothing nsfw, swearing.

word count: 2,318

You wouldn’t consider you and the blonde in front of you friends. Because you weren’t. But at this point - the late nights talking, the late night walks, the late night occasional sleepovers had to be called something.

In all honesty you couldn’t stand each other. You’d both find something about each other to be annoyed by but it would never get in the way of what you guys had.

“Hey” Emily said for what felt like the fifth time.

Right - she was your roommate. That’s what you guys are. That’s the label you can put on it: Camp roomies.

The girl's attempts at snapping you out of your thoughts finally worked, “what?” you snap back.

She laughs at your tone knowing you didn’t mean it, “what are you doing tonight?” she asks curiously.

You look at her as if she asked the stupidest question, “it’s camp. sleeping probably?”

Emily lets out a sarcastic chuckle, “boring lets do something” she says making an effort to wiggle her eyebrows

You slip back into thinking about how this was like a routine for you two. You’d both find a way to sneak away and do something together. Just the two of you. It may sound suspicious but you both thought it wasn’t.

Starting to get annoyed at nothing really, you lock your phone, “I’m going to Tobin’s room.”

                                        ⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

“Heads!” You hear but not quick enough, courtesy of the ball that just hit your head.

“What the fuck?!” you let out already having been annoyed and exhausted from the strenuous training session the team had just endured.

“Sorry...” the culprit, Emily says sheepishly in your direction knowing the amount of shit she’ll get from you for this.

Your reputation as the team's asshole, as much as you hate to admit, did proceed you.

“Watch were you’re fucking going Emily” you say, tone laced with venom and not even bothering to look at her.

“More like the ball” a guilty Emily jokes trying to ease up your attitude.

You were about to snark something back but before you could

“Y/N! Take it easy” you look to find Christen Press who had just overheard your conversation. “She’s being annoying, no” you say, sticking your tongue out to show you’re not actually that mad.

“Come kick it with me” Emily offers hoping it equals an apology.

“So you can hit me again?”

“I- will you stop arguing everything I say?”

You give up and get up, snatching the ball from her hand using your other to untie the sweater around her waist for good measure. You try to ignore the fact she froze when your hand touched her as if she panicked but before you could put in more thought you run away with a devious smile on your face.

“So what’s up with you?” the blonde asks now that you’re away from the team.

You guys did this a lot. Never really talking while around the team. You’re both not sure why, part of you thinks it’s because you’re more comfortable with her than anyone else. You’d never admit that out loud though. Neither would she.

“Nothing” you huff our trying to move on.

She takes the hint and you guys continue kicking the ball back and forth for a while, talking about random things like the next friendly, the weather, the fact that Emily’s sister has a boyfriend.

It’s domestic.

“You still wanna do something?” you ask starting to open up to the idea of socialising.

You watch Emily pause, a smile plastering her face, “duh.”

You smile hesitantly trying to hide the bigger one that was trying to break through.

“Okay.”

                                                   ⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

“Bar or restaurant?” your roommate sticks her head out from the bathroom.

You raise your eyebrows jokingly, “is this a date?”

She laughs, “I’m not paying for you.”

You’re half way through applying some makeup before a knock fills the room, replacing the “god awful music” as you call it for a brief moment. You can't ignore the dread that feels you knowing that there’s a chance that whoever is behind the door would tag along tonight.

Making your way to the door you prep yourself as you swing the door open, relief when you see it’s only Jill.

“Hey..?” you drag out thinking that you could be in trouble.

“Hi girls, I’m going around reminding everybody that we have an excursion tomorrow, and the bus leaves at 7 am.”

Emily chuckles, “you couldn’t have just emailed us that?”

Jill smiles, “I couldn’t figure it out.”

You join in the laughter and say your goodbyes, closing the door and sighing out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

“You good?” Emily asks, noticing your behaviour.

“Yeah.”

“And Emily?”

“Yeah?”

You smirk a little, “bar.. 100% bar.”

                                         ⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Making your way out of the hotel with ease, you and Emily stand outside waiting for an uber.

“I should have brought a fucking jacket” she says, rubbing her bare arms in attempt to get warm.

You raise an eyebrow, “I literally told you too.”

A few passerby’s overhead what you were saying and giggled at the two of you bicker over the weather.

Emily noticed it but you didn’t. Emily thought about how they probably think that you two were a couple. She pushed it down though.

Finally seeing the uber has arrived you both climb in, and she tells the driver where the two of you are going. You’re pretty sure it’s a dive bar called O’Malley’s but it didn’t bother you both since getting wasted wasn’t the plan.

Boy were you wrong.

4 shots, who knows how many beers and 3 games of pool later it’s pretty safe to say you two were in fact wasted. You had no idea how it happened, you weren’t much of a drinker. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the bar, how boring it was since it was you and Emily plus a few frequent flyers.

You’ve been sneakily touching each other all night. Whether it be hands, hips or legs you both feel empty without the presence of each other. You blame it on the alcohol, while she tells herself it’s nothing.

“I love this song!” Emily slurs in your ear, having no real reason to be that close other than the fact of the bar seats.

You giggle at her excitement, “and?” you ask knowing what’s about to come next.

She hops down from the stool and grabs your arm, “we’re gonna dance, obviously!”

You two spend probably about 10 minutes making fools out of yourselves dancing to classic late 90’s songs while continuing to fill your blood with cheap tasting beer.

The beat of the song that plays gets slower and so do you. Coming closer like magnets you hook your arms around her neck, pretending it’s innocent.

Finding your ear once again Emily whispers, “if you wanted to dance like this you could have just asked” wanting you to know that she’s been wanting to do this for a while.

You almost forget how to breathe before pulling her in closer. Suddenly feeling like you need to touch her. Need to have her closer.

The song picks up as you too continue, to what looks like everyone else grinding on each other. You two call it friendly.

She twirls you around playfully following the beat. Yeah this certifies it. You really can’t breathe. It doesn’t stop you though, pushing yourself back into her.

You know what you’re starting to feel but you can’t stop. It’s like you're stuck together. Her hands make their way down to your waist, the same place you had yours today.

“Y/N” she sort of sighs out.

This is all it takes, the way her voice sounded desperate is what makes you turn back around and smash your lips against hers. She takes a second to react but kisses you back wanting this just as much as you do. It’s fast, it's rushed and it’s hungry. As if you’ve been waiting for this your entire life.

You have.

She has too.

Suddenly remembering that you’re in public you laugh into the kiss before hesitantly pulling away, feeling the temperature rise 100 degrees.

“I’m going to the bathroom!” you yell over the music. Not really sure on what to do next.

Much to Emily’s dismay she internally agrees. Suddenly feels a little too sober now with your presence gone.

Becoming anxious as to what you’re doing she follows you into the dingy bathroom. She shouldn’t have expected a nice one.

“Y/N” she calls out, not wanting to yell just in case there’s someone else there.

Rounding the corner she sees you sitting on the dirty bathroom counter, you both not knowing what to say.

“You okay?” she asks you, it slowly becomes a pattern.

“Are you?” you ask back.

“Asked you first.”

“Come here” you ask her

She pauses for a second, frowning her eyebrows before walking closer to you. More specifically she puts her body in between your legs.

“Hi” you whisper now that she can hear you.

Emily’s not sure what’s about to happen.

“Hi.”

“We’re drunk right?”

“Right.”

“Good” is all you say before leaning in.

                                        ⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

The alarm you forgot you set is what wakes you up, but the sleeping body next to you is what gets you up.

You sit up before remembering last night's events which slows your beating heart.

Looking over to Emily, you’re not sure what’s going through your head. A few thoughts of regrets pass through your head before you tell yourself it’s not really regret. You smirk at yourself remembering what went down stuck in your own bubble before also remembering that you had the alarm the night before for a reason.

The bus leaves at 7:00 am.

It’s 6:50 am.

You’re pretty sure yesterday you thought that since you naturally wake at 6:00 am ish each day the alarm was just a warning.

Shaking Emily you almost get distracted but the adrenaline cuts it off.

“Emily!” you croak out.

The worried sounding “Em!” is what wakes her up.

“Yeah?” she groans sleepily before getting hit by her has to be her jeans.

“The bus leaves in 10 fucking minutes.”

“What? Bus?” she sits up trying to gather her thoughts which her pounding headache is blocking.

You don’t have time to explain before going into the bathroom, hearing a “oh” from the bed knowing that she just figured it out.

“I can't find my pants” you say.

She tries to help you while getting dressed herself but fails, “here just take these” she tells you holding her shorts out with her number on it.

“Emily,” you say, coking your head to get your point across.

“It’s fine” she says rubbing her sleepy eye, “we’re roommates, roommates get their clothes mixed up all the time.”

You were gonna make a Tobin and Christen joke but opt against it once the feeling of anxiety about missing the bus refills you.

“What do we even need to bring” she asks, finally dressed.

“I don’t fucking know” you say panicked.

She grabs you as you walk past.

“Hey” Emily says softly, getting your attention.

“It’s fine, we’re fine. They’ll wait for us. Just grab sneakers, maybe a jacket and I’ll get a backpack.”

Her attempts to calm you down work. So easily. Normally once you feel anxious nothing can ever stop that but she just did.

Focusing on your task you finally feel a little better seeing how it’s now 6:55 am and you’re somewhat ready.

Grabbing sunglasses from the bathroom knowing you’ll need them you look back at Emily who still looks half asleep.

Smiling at yourself, it drops from your face when you see yourself in the mirror.

More specifically our neck.

“Fuck” you mumble under your breath.

Not having time to put makeup over it you grab your concealer, chuck your hoodie on and make your way to the door.

She could tell by the way you’re fixing your hood that it’s so cover something.

“Sorry” she tells you, trying to hide a smile.

“Fuck you” you say half joking half genuine.

“Yeah you did” she hits back quickly.

Before you could even scold her a loud banging at your door makes you both jump.

Since Emily is the closest she answers it, “yeah yeah we’re coming!” she says opening the door to reveal Rose and Mal.

You all greet each other, before the girls in front of you yell at the both of you for being this late.

“They’re going to kill us, let's go.”

Practically jogging through the lobby you both finally make it to the bus, offering an apology to Jill and a few others who're waiting outside for you girls.

Knowing that you’ll be sitting with your bus buddy you make the way down the aisle, searching for Tobin.

The smile on her face tells you 1 of 2 things. Either she knows or she just finds it amusing that you, out of all people were late.

Sitting down in your seat you let out a slow breath trying to calm down your stomach and head.

“Shut up” you tell her, feeling as if she was about to say something

You just get comfortable as you hear your phone ding. Not being bothered to get it from your bag you look at Tobin, silently asking her to get it for you.

“What did you do last night?” she asks teasingly.

She retrieves your phone, furrowing her eyebrows at the number on your shorts that caught her eye when she was coming back up.

She bites her lips to stop a laugh forming before handing you your phone.

When you answer whoever that was texting you, you lean back into the surprisingly comfy bus seat.

Tobin matches you, leaning over with a wide smile.

“I know what you d-i-i-d” she singsongs

[theasstour]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱 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

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

What... did you say...?

It's been a hot, like, 2 years since I last wrote for THH or Naegiri, and man, it shows... My Makoto writing is all rusty and I hate it. This fic isn't very good by any of my usual standards, but I really wanted it out of the door, and I just remembered just how much I like Makoto, Kyoko and Naegiri. I may not have the same fervor I had for DR as I did almost 4 years ago when I started writing Febris-Induced Case, but hey... I still like those guys. I hate canon but I love those guys. It's such a weird feeling. I usually go back to V3 instead, so seeing them again... made my heart flutter a little, then realize my prompt fill sucked ass lmao. Oh well. I'll probably go back to the ship and characters later during this card; but for now, I think I at least got that one prompt out of the way. Honestly, I had to do it with a THH-inspired oneshot because, y'know, Chapter 5 is a thing and it was the glorious sick episode that got me into DR in the first place. Also, is this set Post-Canon or is it in an Everybody Lives AU? Who knows! I sure don't!

--------

Last Heartbeat

Summary: Someone is trying to kill him while he's down for the count; yet Makoto can't find the strength to move away from the danger. 

Fandom: Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc

Wordcount: 1.6K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo​

AO3 version available here.

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There’s a shadowy figure hovering over his bed.

 He doesn’t know who it could be or why they’re here – but he’s got a bad feeling about this. All he can see about them is the reflection of the moonlight in their eyes (he forgot to close the curtains before collapsing back into bed, but he’s thankful for it, now) and the way their smile shines through the darkness like white under the black light, sharp teeth threatening him.

He doesn’t know why, but there’s one feeling that’s overwhelming the rest of his sense – he needs to escape from whoever that person is, as fast and as soon as possible.

 That’s all well and dandy, but the thing is, his limbs won’t bulge. He’s trying his hardest to push him out of the bed before that person can do anything to him – he doesn’t even know if they’re armed or not – yet neither arms nor legs are responding to his desperate calls. He feels like his entire body has been covered in lead and that, in turn, seeped into his blood and flesh and made him heavier than he has any right to be.  

The light reflects in the sharp edge of a knife pointed right towards him by the mysterious figure, ready to strike at any moment, to extract the breath from his chest – but he’s already breathless, so he wonders if he hasn’t been stabbed already… but that can’t be, right? He’d have felt if the blade had struck. He’d be able to see blood flowing down it, right?

It doesn’t make sense, but he feels lightheaded and breathless, so it may just be his head playing tricks on him.

 Adrenaline kicks in before long and he manages to push himself to face the mysterious figure, legs following with a delay, as he sees their eyes: sulphuric yellow, bright and glistening, unrealistically bright even considering the lights outside – like a demon’s. Their breathing is unnaturally heavy, so close to him that he hears every crackle, every wheeze and every wet sound in it, oppressing him through merely existing and being in such a close range.

He’s now facing the figure, who has lied down on him, their knife still showing under the moonlight. Their expression is haunting, a mix of pleasure and pain like he’s never seen one before – their eyes are full of sorrow, but their teeth keep smiling, distorted in a pleased grin, a droplet of red falling down from one of them, one sharper than the blade they’re holding.

 Their intent is nefarious indeed, but his legs are trapped in the drapes and covers tangled in his feet, and he finds himself cornered by the wall against which his bed is. He attempts to flee from the sides, left, right, left, right – but the person (the creature?) flawlessly matches his pace, if they’re not actually predicting what he’s about to do, so there’s no way out there either.

With strong hands, they pin him down to the bed, preventing him from even attempting an escape. He now has a closeup view of their eyes: their pupils are slit, like a cat’s in a way, and focus directly into his despite the fact it should be impossible in a mostly dark room like that one. They emit their own light, so they can probably bypass his limits, making them invincible by default.

 His own breathing is heavy (albeit less than the creature), his hands are trembling and he’s stuck in this position, having to wait and see what the other person is going to do, even if he can guess their intentions can’t be good – he still has some hope left that it could be one giant misunderstanding. This may just be weird dream, after all, and his luck could finally be on his side for once and –

Hands wrap around his neck, cold and leathery to the touch, as the fingers dance around the edges of his jaw – he has no idea of what they’re doing, but he wishes he wasn’t so vulnerable and lethargic right about now, wishing he could recover just enough strength to get away from this dangerous situation. Their gaze is cold as it studies him, contrasting with the caustic grin, and their intent is now too clear for him to remain any optimistic about it.

 Oh my God. They can and will kill him.

 He has no idea of why someone would kill him, right now. Something tells him he must have done at least one thing to be a person to eliminate. He must know too much or snoop around too many places, and that must be displeasing to at least one individual. Kyoko did try to warn him, after all, of what sort of cases she may get on; but he didn’t mind because, simply put, he’d go through the apocalypse to be with her.

He’d very much appreciate her to be by his side, right now, considering he’s about to get killed, all alone, and it stings to think he’ll be drawing his last breath all on his own. If there was one thing he could be proud of about himself, it wasn’t any sort of talent nor ability, but his role as the heart of the class, the beacon of hope of the group as some have nicknamed him (it used to be ironic, but it grew on people); so, now that he’d need someone to pay him the favour back (now that he ever thought of it that way, but you know…), there’s nobody by his side and he’s left facing a demon in the darkness.

And that’s when one realization strikes him.

 He’s going to die alone.

 He’s going to die right here and ow without having had the opportunity to see all of the people he loves one last time and to tell them how grateful he was for every single one of them.

He won’t have the chance to hug Komaru one last time and tell her how she’s the best sister ever.

He won’t have the chance to thank his parents for their love and support, for comforting him in times of needs.

He won’t have the chance to tell the class he loved being their classmate and friend, how he spent some of the best years of his life with them, how they were the best thing to happen to him.

He won’t have the chance to tell Kyoko that… that…

 The fingers around his throat slowly move from his neck to his head, eyes glancing into his, still burning with hellish flames, albeit suddenly expressionless, evoking nothing in his panicked mind. The person’s breathing gets heavier and heavier as his starts to disappear, second by second, as his own breath is starting to run short. He’d try to fight against it if his limbs weren’t, again, too heavy to move, too stiff to use, especially in a situation like that – adrenaline isn’t enough to save him, now.

And there he is, dying in his bed, slain during a moment where he was too vulnerable to escape. It’s sad, sad thing; but at least, it’ll be a quick and easy death, if it comes to it.

 --------------------------------

 He wakes up to the soft light of the sun peeking through the curtains and the faint scent of lavender. The air is soft and a little cool, unlike what he can vaguely remember having felt before – only to jolt up when he remembers he shouldn’t even be alive to think that.

Two hands push him back into the bed, gentle yet firm. He doesn’t need to think much (and thank goodness for that, his head is heavy and feels like it could split in half if he used it too much) to know who this is, smile a little at the realization, then get even more confused about how he landed in this dream-like situation.

 “Stay put,” Kyoko tells him in this tone that only her voice has, the one that’s stoic yet caring, in a way he can’t quite describe.

“B-but… I…”

He coughs, loudly, and his laboured breathing reminds him of something: the person’s, the creature’s.

“Everything’s okay, Makoto. You’ve just gone through a terrifying night. Everything else is fine. You’re still here.”

 Her words are making him think a little more rationally about what felt like his death: it must have been a nightmare he didn’t wake up from. That’s weird, because usually, he’d wake up when he’d pass away in his dream, only to jump awake, drenched in sweat. The apocalypse happening before everyone’s eyes hasn’t helped.

“I don’t know what you saw while I was tending to you, even if I can imagine a version of it.”

He’s used to comforting Kyoko, not the other way around. She used to be very much uneasy with it, stumbling with her words and preferring silent gestures to words – which she still does and does very well at that with people she’s opened to – but she’s trying her best, he can tell.

“All I can tell you is that you were trying to escape from me but couldn’t.” She puts a damp washcloth on his forehead, prompting him to notice she isn’t wearing her gloves. “I assume you mistook me for someone else while I was simply trying to keep your fever in check.”

 So, the figure… wasn’t trying to kill him, then.

“That’s probably it,” he replies with a cough interrupting him. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“It’s fine. Please tell me about it if you feel like it. I want to understand what happened when you pushed me away.”

“Will do,” he gives her the biggest smile he call pull off.

[capricities]

Dynasty AU: Part 1

I did some world building for this one. I hope you enjoy! If you want to see the first part, here’s the masterlist. 

also tagging @idiotwhotalkstoomuch​ since she’s awesome lmao. Love ya platonically

“Be on your best behaviour Yuu. The Asim’s are visiting. After lunch you can play with Kalim, okay?” His mother told him as she combed his hair. Yuu was pretty ecstatic, it’s been a while since he’s seen someone his age ––then again, he had cousins the same age, some even younger–– especially since this was the cheerful kid back from the party.

And he had nice clothes...nevermind.

Yuu nodded. His mother set down the comb on the vanity table before squishing his cheeks. He pouted but giggled soon after. He hugged his mom as a way of thanking her before running out of the room, followed by his nanny.

As he walked beside his nanny, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes downcast. “What’s wrong Yuu-sama?” His nanny asked.

“Okaasan..why does she look sad?” He asked his nanny, who only looked at him with an undecipherable expression. 

“I’m not too sure Yuu-sama, but it’s most likely just stress. After all, it takes a lot of time to prepare the house for guests, especially when they’re such important people.” She tried explaining. Yuu merely nodded at her explanation. He knew she was hiding something, but if she was hiding something from him, it meant that he didn’t need to know. 

Though that didn’t mean he would be any less curious.

His nanny guided him to the green room, where he was greeted by his sister. He sort of wished his nanny would come with him, but as soon as his sister took his hand, she shooed her off. His sister smiled at her, and for a moment he almost forgot about that time at the birthday party. Almost. 

Ever since the party, his feelings on his sister have been rather...conflicted. She was demanding, intimidating, everything she wasn’t at home. It was as if her personality took a complete 180. He kind of wanted to ask her if she was sick or if anything was bothering her. 

Yuu felt his sister squeeze his hand. He wasn’t sure if it was a warning or reassurance. Hatsuko guided Yuu to the table where the Asim’s and their grandfather were currently chatting.

Yuu immediately let go of Hatsuko’s hand and ran to hug his Sofu, ignoring his sister’s yells. His sofu chuckled at his antics as he hugged him back. “Good afternoon Sofu!” Yuu greeted.

“Now aren’t you energetic, aren’t you little dumpling?” His grandfather mused. Yuu pouted at this. He was just excited, he hadn’t seen his Sofu all week due to a business trip he and his dad went to. He should probably ask Sofu why his dad wasn’t back too.

Hatsuko gracefully sidled beside them, bowing to the Asim’s who watched in amusement as Yuu interacted with his grandfather. It could only be described as precious, adorable, and undeniably heartwarming. “Yuu, you have to greet them too you know~” Hatsuko whispered into Yuu’s ear.

Yuu paused, suddenly remembering why he was in the green room in the first place. He sheepishly smiled as detached himself from his Sofu to bow politely at the Asim’s. Politely waving at an excited Kalim, who was all but ready to tackle the other into a hug if it came to it. His Sofu called him energetic, but Kalim was probably its dictionary definition. 

Yuu noticed another boy beside Kalim, and he immediately took interest in their long hair. It must’ve been hard to wash, he should know, he had pretty long hair too, but it wasn’t as long as theirs. It must be fun to braid that…

“We shouldn’t keep the children from playing. After all, this is part of the reason we came here.” The woman on the opposite side, the third wife of Asim, stated as she motioned for the boy with long hair to follow Kalim. The boy nodded vigorously.

Sofu smiled. “Yes, we shouldn’t.” He sent a sidewards glance to Hatsuko, before motioning to the chair beside him. Hatsuko gracefully sat onto the chair, and honestly, she seemed like a robot with how proper her movements were. The adults led the children away from the table, instantly talking about a potential partnership. 

Kalim instantly bolted towards Yuu, gung-ho, throwing his arms around him and pulling him into a hug. Yuu was rather shocked for a few seconds before hugging back, chuckling a little. The long-haired boy stood a good distance behind Kalim, politely bowing when he realised Yuu glanced in his direction. When Kalim had separated himself from Yuu, Kalim gently took the latter’s hand and led Yuu towards Jamil.

“Yuu, this is Jamil! He’s my-“ Kalim was cut off by Jamil, who bowed once more.

“I’m Jamil Viper, Kalim’s attendant and retainer.” He formally introduced himself. Yuu awkwardly told him that he didn’t need to bow, but it seemed there was no stopping him. 

“No, you’re my friend,” Kalim said with a pout that made Yuu chuckle. Jamil sighed, bringing a hand to massage his temples.

Yuu was curious about Jamil, especially since it was his first time seeing him. During the party, he wasn’t there, does that mean he was just newly appointed? But aren’t retainers supposed to be a bit older? That’s how the Kingscholar’s retainers looked like. Or were those just elders? 

He saw Kalim’s excited eyes as they wandered around the manor, his eyes darting around every single piece of art that hung on the walls, as well as the numerous pieces of technology, his curiosity was ever-present. Jamil was following behind them ––even after Kalim’s insistence of walking beside them, to which he declined–– his eyes intrigued by the grandeur collection. Just one of these paintings could probably keep his family alive for a good decade or two. 

After Yuu’s tour of the house, Kalim had all but begged Yuu to let them into the kitchen. Kalim went on going on and on about Jamil and his ability to made really good Roti’s and curry. The three of them ended up running around the kitchen with supervision from Yuu’s nanny. Kalim was bouncing, carefully placing the bag of whole wheat flour and a few cups of water on the kitchen island that he could ––luckily–– reach. Jamil was about to go and get the rest of the ingredients himself before Kalim assured him that he could do it himself ––with a bit of help from Yuu’s nanny, who found it heartwarming how much the young Asim heir wanted to help.

While Jamil was mixing, Yuu decided to watch from the bar stool in front of the island. . He didn’t really have any idea what the two were doing, so he decided it was best if he just...didn’t interfere.  

Yuu was curious about Jamil. He seemed distant, recluse, or maybe robot-like was a better way to describe him. He only did what he was told, followed Kalim like a loyal puppy, and always put Kalim above him. He didn’t really interact with Jamil much, mostly because Kalim was able to grab his attention at any given moment, but now that they were just chilling in the kitchen, maybe he could finally interact with the boy.

“So...Jamil-san, I didn’t see you at the party…and I was wondering why...” He trailed. Jamil looked up from the bowl, still stirring the mixture that was beginning to become thicker.

Jamil pursed his lips as he stirred. “A few days before the party, we found poison in one of Kalim’s meals. As his attendant, I had to poison test his food...you get what happened.” He said as he placed the spoon down and took the dough in his hands and placed it on the board.

Yuu didn’t know how to respond to that. “A-Are you okay now?” He asked as placed his hands on the counter. 

Jamil hummed a short yes while kneading the dough, sifting a bit of flour on top since it was a bit too sticky. “I was only sick for a few days, I was back on my feet once the Asim’s returned from your party two days later.” He said, a small smile on his face as if reassuring him he was alright, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes...just like his Sobo’s, and even his mom’s.

He shook the thought of his head. “M-maybe I should take over…even though I don’t know anything...” He mumbled, but Jamil caught onto it. He nodded and motioned for Yuu to take his place. Yuu walked to the sink to wash his hands.

“You just need to knead the dough anyways…” He said to Yuu as he moved to make space for him. Yuu approached the board before placing his hands on the dough.

It was silent for a few moments, Yuu internally contemplating what to say next since he didn’t want his conversation with Jamil to end, and another because he was genuinely concerned. There was something that was weighing him down somehow...he wasn’t sure what it was, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t understand it either. Jamil on the other hand was wondering why it took so long for Kalim to return, but luckily he could see him from the pantry. His safety was his top priority. 

“You know, you remind me of someone I know.” Yuu said out loud, which startled Jamil. Yuu felt his cheeks flush at the sudden realisation that he had said his thoughts out loud.

Jamil hummed. “And who do I remind you of? I may ask.” 

Yuu bit his lip as he stopped kneading the dough. “You remind me of Sobo.”

Jamil tilted his head to the side. “I remind of you of someone  as great as the wife of Ryo Eshima?” He asked, rather amused. She was a great woman. She rose to the top, and unlike others who selfishly took, she gave. She managed to give the homeless stable jobs, the middle class the ability to rise the ranks, she even welcomed others as her own. It was definitely a comparison that Jamil didn’t see. 

“Yeah, she’s great and all, but people keep making her a god or something.” Yuu mused, and Jamil just found himself nodding, best to take the word of the one with an actual blood relation to them. “She’s human too...maybe that’s why she hid her illness. Kind of like you.” 

Jamil blinked, not expecting such a declaration. Yuu noticed the confused expression that coloured his face, so he quickly added. “You’re hiding something. You may not be ill, but you’re hiding something, and I want you to know that you shouldn’t be hiding it.” 

Jamil paused, processing the words that just came out of Yuu’s mouth. ���Trust me Yuu-san, if I could, I would be revealing whatever I’m hiding.” He said cryptically as his eyes became downcast. Yuu was going to ask what he meant but Kalim had finally entered the kitchen, towels, butter, and some fine sea salt in hand, Yuu’s nanny fretting about the young heir.

Yuu wanted to frown, but knew that it would just get the attention of his nanny and Kalim. Instead he sighed as he glanced to Jamil, who approached Kalim, taking everything from his hands and taking the towel and putting it over the dough. Seriously! Why did everyone hide everything from him!

[iamnotawomanimagod]

Manic Review - From “Least-Best” to Best

Halsey released her third studio album on 1/17/2020, and it is easily her best. I’ve wanted to talk about it, but first, I need to figure out how I feel about each track in relation to the others. So this is mostly for me, but I’d love to hear how other people are feeling too!

I love all of these songs, I feel so blessed with this album, which is why this goes from “least-best” to “best”, not “worst.” 

(I know that’s kind of splitting semantic hairs, but I refuse to disrespect this album, lmao.)

So, without further ado, here are my favorite songs on Manic, starting with the one I like the least:

16 - “Alanis’s Interlude”

This is THE bisexual anthem we’ve all been waiting for from Halsey. It’s cool, sexy, and features some stellar vocals from both Alanis and Halsey. It ranks so low for me only because I’m not a huge fan of the chorus, the machine drums, or the melody, despite loving the message. But the verses are fire, and so are the vocals.

15 - “Still Learning”

I think this track will be a slow-grower for me, the way “Devil in Me” was. Maybe it’s just because it comes on the heels of the deeply, deeply impactful “More” - but I found this didn’t strike the chord I thought it would. It’s a beautiful song, though, and very meaningful to Halsey’s personal journey. I think seeing it live might change my mind about it.

14 - “Finally // beautiful stranger” 

This might be the sweetest side of Halsey that we’ve ever seen, especially when it comes to romantic love. The fact that it was inspired by Yungblud makes my heart ache a bit. I really love the duality of the different versions of Ashley in the video. That being said, the genre/style of song isn’t my personal favorite. Her vocals are amazing, though, and some of the lyrics are really poetic. I know this will be an especially tender one live, in front of a Halsey crowd. I can just picture everyone swaying and singing along.

13 - “SUGA’s Interlude” 

This interlude is such a soft, sad moment on the album, and it fits really well before “More.” SUGA’s Interlude is all about the way fame has changed both artists, and about how they’ll know when it’s time to step away from the spotlight - and how that might change them. SUGA has excellent flow, and Halsey’s delicate, pining vocals on the chorus is a perfect complement to his introspective rapping. It’s a really sweet song, and part of why it works so well on the album is because it creates such a heartfelt prelude to “More”. The song all about leaving fame behind, followed by the song about loving her unborn child, and how she badly wants to be a mother...gives me chills, man, literal chills. I think I’d like it more if I spoke Korean, but honestly, Korean Halsey fans deserve somethin’ special, so I’m okay with it.

12 - “You should be sad”

I still don’t know if I quite “buy” Y’allsey, but I can’t deny that this is a really fun song. Singing along to the lyrics is so satisfying, and the music video provided us with some serious Looks. The guitar riff between the chorus and the verses makes me feel things, and so does the line: “I’m so glad I never ever had a baby with you,” especially after hearing “More”. I like this song a lot, but compared to the rest of the album, it’s not in my top ten. I think it’ll be a really, really fun one live, though.

11 - “Without Me”

This song and I share a birthday! It’s also where Manic really began, although we had no idea that was the case, at the time. This was the first time Halsey wrote from such a specific and personal place, knowing we would all immediately recognize who the song targeted and why. She’s used this song brilliantly since then, coming up with a dozen different interpretations and set pieces, performing it while chained to a post, while revealing the messages of her cheating ex, while dancing with a beautiful girl, and even more. (It helps a lot that she performed this song with Jade Chynoweth, one of my all-time favorite dancers, and responded to the backlash of that performance by doing it again, but even gayer, just a few weeks later.) We owe a lot to this song. And, as it turns out, it really fits in with the story of Manic, and with the tone, from both a sonic and thematic perspective. I’m still a little tired of it, though, which is why it ranks so low. But - credit where it’s due!

10 - “Dominic’s Interlude” 

This one surprised me, although I went in with zero expectations, not knowing who Dominic Fike was. I wish Halsey was actually in this song, but other than that, I think it’s a great interlude. Not to mention: “If you’re looking for signs then you should know, there’s power in the words that you’re thinking.” That’s an incredible line, hit me hard. 

9 - “Ashley”

I both love and hate what this song means, because it scares the crap out of me. The way she described it as “a cautious goodbye” in an interview... It’s absolutely a letter to her fans, about Halsey, about who Halsey is, and who Ashley is, and how that balancing act both breaks her and makes her thrive. She can’t keep doing this forever. She knows how much she means to us, and this song is all about how heavy and scary that burden is, but that she’s committed to it, for now. Ending with that line from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was perfect. We’re the ones who shouldn’t assign her our peace of mind, y’know? Her vocals are stunning, though, and I think it’s the strongest opener from any of her albums. This song reminds me of a much less depressing version of “Batter Up” by Brand New, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it influenced her a bit.

8 - “Graveyard”

This song really feels like the older sister of “Without Me”. I love the racing speed of the melody and the rhythm, the way everything is layered so manically and frantically over the verses. It’s actually really easy to get lost in the musicality of this one, even though the lyrics are incredible. I think the music video is my all-time favorite of Halsey’s, because I love all the symbolism in it, and it was really trippy to see her without tattoos. I’ll consider this one a bop for a long, long time.

7 - “clementine” 

We’ve had this song for a little while, and it’s been one of my favorites. I was pretty sure it was going to stay that way, even after the album came out, but Halsey surprised me. That being said, I still love the way this song manages to be both playful and petulant, spirited and sad. It has some really beautiful images, and the music video is so pretty. 

6 - “I HATE EVERYBODY” 

We love a song full of contradictions! This song takes the humor/self-deprecation that started in “Clementine” and “Forever... (is a long time)” and turns it anthemic. The transition from “Dominic’s Interlude” to this song is so perfect, it’s hard not to listen to them one after the other. Halsey once again proves her lyrical prowess and ability to write a relatable bop, which is really what we love her for in the end, right? I love the way the song starts out pretty simply, than swells up into something epic.

5 - “3am”

I love this genre, so much, and I think Halsey completely nails it. This song wouldn’t make anyone bat an eye if you played it in 2007. Most other Halsey songs can’t claim that, and since I’m a sucker for the aughties, this one lives high on my list. It reminds me of P!nk, Avril Lavigne, and Paramore. The lyrics are super relatable, and I love the chorus and the bridge. It’s not the best lyrically, but that bridge honestly makes up for what the rest of the song lacks. Can’t wait to scream that one live! I do wish John Mayer wasn’t rambling on the end, but I also love how that leads into “Without Me”. 

4 - “929″ 

This might sound strange, but I love how this song starts with just Ashley talking; she’s speaking through laughter, challenging her friend playfully. This song feels so real. I love the stream-of-consciousness style of lyrics and the way the melody plays into that. Her voice reminds me so much of early, early Halsey - songs like “Tilt You Back” and “For Ruby”. I can relate so much to some of the things she says, and I love the way it ends. It’s such an interesting contrast to the way her previous albums concluded, too - “Young God” and “Hopeless” are both such epic, sweeping tracks. Ending her most personal album yet with such a tender ode to self-acceptance, and self-discovery, is such a beautiful way to show how much she’s grown, as a person, a songwriter, and a singer. This song makes me nostalgic, proud, happy, just a little sad, and feel so at peace.

3 - “More”

I almost don’t really have words for this song. Knowing Halsey’s story, her very honest and public experiences with infertility and endometriosis, made this song hit me a lot harder than I ever expected. I still can’t quite get through it without crying. It’s an incredibly beautiful song. Painfully, painfully honest, about a topic that’s so rarely openly discussed in pop culture. I don’t even want kids, but the yearning she shows, the hope she still has, the way she says that she’s loved her future child more than anything, and has always loved them; the reference to having already bought baby clothes; the sound of the sonogram machine, and the way it sounds like she’s singing to her baby from outside the womb at the end; it guts me. And again, I don’t want kids. I never expected this kind of honesty or tenderness from her. It’s such a special song, truly. (For the record, I listened to it again to write this and am fully weeping once more.)

2 - “Forever... (is a long time)” 

What a surprise this song was! I think it perfectly captures a certain kind of self-destructive behavior that so many of us end up falling into when it comes to relationships. The way the song goes from happy and plucky to this burgeoning feeling of dread, of spiraling down into those dark thoughts that trip all of us up from time to time. It goes from a love song to a break-up song in a matter of seconds, and the transition is spine-tinglingly perfect. The storm building in the background, starting with thunder and dissipating into rain. The way her voice comes back in with the same melody, but minor instead of major. The way the song sort of disintegrates into chaos, and into the realization: “talk to your man...tell him he’s got bad news comin’.” (This is definitely about the Yungblud breakup, right? Nevermind, my heart can’t take that. Gonna pretend I didn’t just realize that.)

1 - “killing boys” 

Jennifer’s Body is one of my absolute favorite movies, unironically. I love that Halsey loves it too, enough to include lines from it in the most badass boss bitch song she’s written since “Nightmare”. Her vocals are incredible (those high notes!) - the lyrics are the perfect blend of regretful and rageful - the beat, melodies, and overall composition just fills me up with this impossibly strong sense of “fuck yeah, fuck you.” I don’t have the words to describe how this song makes me feel. I had high hopes, based on the title, and it did not disappoint. This song has some of the cleverest lines on the entire record, and it makes me feel a way that no other song does. That’s what seals it at #1, for me (for now.)

Feel free to reply with yours, or tag me in your own review!! I’m really excited to see some of the more detailed opinions people have, now that the initial “IT’S HERE” hype has started to subside.

stream MANIC by HALSEY today

[toxicpineapple]

Please give me your amami essay, I'd like to know the TEA! I was also gonna ask for the mastermind essay, but honestly I REALLY wanna hear your thoughts on his characterization (and your thoughts on his shitty fanon characterization)

HOOO BOY OKAY. this is good, it gives me an excuse to procrastinate on reading that new amasai fic on the latest feed. (note that i REALLY WANT TO READ IT, i’m just anticipating commenting and tbh the spoons,,, i lack them. it’s okay though i’ll get over it.)

so!!! let’s start with general attitude, because i think that amami’s is really unique. he’s a subversive character. in general i feel like that was the biggest goal with his character design and personality combination-- he looks like a total playboy, kaede even comments as much moooore than once. but he’s the absolute opposite. i’ll rant about that in a bit. i’ve already gone off on a tangent and i said i was gonna talk about attitude.

amami is laid back, but not to the point of complacency. y’know what i mean? like, he’s relaxed, but he’s on his guard, too. his speaking style is pretty casual (typically he’ll greet people with a “hey,” whenever he’s slightly uncomfortable he’ll probably say “haha”... this isn’t necessarily a canon thing but i like it when people have him talking in sentence fragments. ex. “forgot to grab my jacket” or “wanted to get a snack” sort of thing) and that’s just,,, the type of person he is. he’s casual. it’s remarkable considering how wealthy amami is-- though bear in mind, he still IS wealthy, so there are bound to be things he doesn’t understand about people-- that he can be so normal and like, down to earth, in a way. when people mess around with him he’ll probably just laugh it off.

to cite a fic i read once that had REALLY phenomenal characterisation, imo, ouma ends up dumping a bucket of water on amami’s head (on accident; there are some semantics and i won’t get into it but again the fic is really good and funny and you should totally read it) and amami just squeezes out his shirt and makes a couple cracks before walking away. (sorry this isn’t meant to be a “dumping love on fics” post but GOD that fic is hysterical.) he’s an enabler too, at least i think so-- remember that anthology chapter where kaede, shuichi, and kaito are trying to catch ouma and kaito sets an “amami trap” to stop him? all ouma has to do is flutter his eyelashes and go “pleeeaaase let me go amam~niichan!” and then he just. he does. what a fucking doormat i can’t believe him.

he’s like that though. i feel like big brother stuff is kind of his weakness. (and not in a kinky way alright i will destroy you. he might make a joke about having a sister complex in one of his ftes but he DOESNT that joke was just tasteless COME ON RANTARO WHFKLDSJFK) which brings me to his whole older brother thing, because like,,, YEAH. guy grew up with twelve younger sisters!!! and he remarked in his ftes with shuichi that they’re mostly step sisters, which means he just.... has a nurturing personality. i mean amami is somewhat conservative (if you try to come on to him during salmon mode you will be brutally rebuffed; amami tells u to keep your horny thoughts to yourself, though you shouldn’t be ashamed of having them) so i imagine he’s not the biggest fan of his father’s tendencies-- not that i don’t NECESSARILY interpret his father’s behaviour as him sleeping around.... it’s possible he just likes children and deliberately marries women who already have kids so he can take them... i mean it’s exceedingly decent to keep considering ur step children to be your children after a divorce so i have a hard time reconciling this common image of rantaro’s dad as some kind of player figure with the impression i got of him in my head but that’s just my daddy issues coming into play again so ignore me-- and yet he still considers all his sisters to be his sisters.

not to mention he feels a great deal of like, responsibility, when it comes to taking care of them. i find it impossible to believe that all the losses were his fault. you could ARGUE that the one he tells you about with his younger sister was to be blamed on him? but i mean, amami is a child. he didn’t even know his sister was following him out. sure he blames himself for it but there’s no real good way to blame him just considering that,,, he’s a kid. and he was so young-- he was obviously so young-- when it happened. so like, not to be all Good and Bad on you, but i do feel that amami is fundamentally a good reason. and you SEE that too, in the killing game. i’m certain he was on the fence about trusting that note he woke up with. would you trust it? he had no memory whatsoever of writing it, all he had were the words “ultimate hunt” and a map of the school to guide his way. i imagine he wasn’t even sure if he should do what the note said. but then ryoma started talking about sacrificing himself for everyone else, and rantaro probably thought, “well... if i have a way to get us out of here, even if it doesn’t work, i can’t just let ryoma sacrifice himself without having tried.”

rantaro is self-reliant too, i think. in the talent development plan mukuro remarks that she noticed he was injured a good number of times, but never said anything about it because she felt like he was trying to keep it under wraps. (note: good idea for an amami and mukuro friendship fic. must write. someone remind me.) i think amami kind of feels isolated from his classmates? either because he has these perceived notions of like, independence and whatever, not burdening anybody else with his problems (honestly not to go chabashira on main but wtf men ask for help c’mon i promise if you find a person who’s worth being in ur life they won’t treat you like shit for feeling ur feelings) or just because he’s not around a lot. i think amami is the type of person to invalidate his own problems a lot, or at least downplay them to others. he blames himself for all his sisters going missing, took the responsibility to find them all. you know the blow that’s going to be to his education? traveling around the world looking for twelve different people? and he plans to keep doing that!!! forever!!! ugh ;-; poor babey. but anyway i feel like he doesn’t want to tell anybody about his problems because he feels like it’s his thing to deal with.

i also believe that rantaro is a bit prideful. i mean, anyone can be prideful under the correct circumstances, and in fact there is a great deal of pride that simply isn’t addressed by the fandom in analysing characters and that makes me really sad because pride is such a SEXY character flaw but i’ll leave that alone for now. he hates being told to give up on what he’s doing. i mean everyone in his life has been telling him to stop looking for his sisters. that’s got to suck, but also, DAMN look at what his reaction was. this utter refusal to open up to anybody. shuichi’s ftes with him are spent pretty much just trying to get amami to stop squirreling around and actually TALK to him. amami asks shuichi at one point if he has any siblings and when the response is negative, amami immediately assumes that shuichi wouldn’t understand, would tell him to quit. just like everyone else.

(i mean, even with kiyo and mukuro, whose circumstances mirror his almost painfully at least in willingness to sacrifice stuff for their siblings, he doesn’t tell them what he’s doing, just that he’s doing it for his sister-- singular-- and that he would do anything for her. kiyo and mukuro!! out of ANYBODY, they would understand. in tdp they DO talk about it-- kiyo encourages him to keep searching-- as his friend...... fuck amaguji is such a good ship even if the implications of kiyo saying he wants to meet rantaro’s sister after he finds her bc she must be suuuuch a good person if he’s doing all this for her are uhhh not great-- and mukuro immediately understands when he says it’s to do with his younger sister. like, full stop. she just goes “okay” and goes serious. all at once. damn rantaro, mukuro, and kiyo really do be a power trio huh. i need to write more fic about them i miss them.)

this is more into baseless conjecture so take this as you will, but i also think rantaro is kind of,,, easily distracted lmao. he mentions helping out a village with a disease-- been a while since i’ve seen his ftes, sorry for any inconsistencies-- among other shit and like... bro what are you DOING. you have sisters to find. and he can’t be getting injured all the time, getting wrapped up with gang violence and all that, looking for people who were lost traveling. i mean sure, you could say they went all over the world and got wrapped up in all sorts of mess, but more likely they stayed in roughly the same area, waiting for him to come back. and also? i have a hard time believing his sisters were lost in these remote forest places people always put them. COME ON, who the fuck goes to some village for a vacation? a RICH person no less. i’m on another tangent. sorry. but yeah, i love the people who write rantaro as an absolute airhead. i headcanon that he has no way of judging the passing of time and thus is the absolute worst in the bathroom bc he sits there for twenty minutes thinking about the universe and then walks out like “:) ok ready to go” like wtf are you even doing there stupid akljdf anyway.

i think rantaro is softhearted and thoughtful. in his ftes with kaede he demonstrates an ability to look past what people show at surface level-- you can ask him about miu, kiibo, or kiyo and he’ll give u Good Fucking Insight(tm)-- and analyse their intentions more closely. and i mean this is just from a couple day’s interaction. he’s down to earth for sure, understanding when people are intimidated but also caring and observant. (his “talk about a first impression” line is so fuckaindgf.... good for his characterisation. i love romantic amamatsu but he so clearly takes an older brother role in those ftes, he’s really such a sweetheart,,,, hnadhfkj ;w;) rantaro is just. he’s patient with people. and selfless and kind. idk it’s all the good stuff. warm smiles and indulgence. all the way. probably lets kokichi steal his lunch.

THAT BEING SAID: i think rantaro also has a very serious streak. he doesn’t show it a lot but there are moments. he’s self-sacrificing-- i mean, obviously. he was the ultimate survivor, after all. some people hc that he got there by killing, or maybe everyone else in his game died but one person, but bro that doesn’t make any sense???? no. what happened was there were probably like three people left, and monokuma was like “one has to be sacrificed” and rantaro thought, welp. it’ll be me then. and i wouldn’t say the choice would be immediate because rantaro DOES has self preservation instincts-- he’s only human-- but i don’t think he’d have let anybody else make that decision. i think ultimately he would try to protect other people.

he can be scarily confrontational too. i do believe he’d usually only do it in the defense of others-- like, his base instinct is to protect. i read a fic once (oumami, unfortunately) where ouma was committing crimes and went to hide behind rantaro and rantaro instinctively moved to protect him, and that’s.... that’s good characterisation. point one to the oumami stans, point zero to me. motherfucker. (love u oumami stans, it’s just not my thing.) i really like it in fics when he’s stern, lecturing people for hurting other people, but i also think rantaro is too understanding to be truly unforgiving. like if two people got into an argument and one came out of it more hurt than the other, i don’t believe that amami would be unsympathetic to the less hurt one. i think he’s mature enough to take a look at the situation and go, well, okay.

i think he’d be TERRIFYING when angry. he’s patient, y’know? so it takes a lot to get him to that point. he’s really, ah, accommodating of people. puts up with a lot of bs kind of thing. but i imagine the best way to get him to snap is by hurting someone he cares about. and at that point: ur fucked. i’ve never written it before because i’m terrified of what i’d do with that kind of power but.... imagine the shuichi whump. holy god.

i’m NOT here to talk about shuichi whump (though i’m down to do that any time of day believe me) so i’m gonna like. shhhhiiiiiiffft.

i project on characters a lot so at this point it’s difficult to distinguish if some of my characterisation things are like, actually characterisation things? or just me venting, so like, take nothing i say as canon, but also,,, akdsjf we love a man who bottles up his emotions.

because rantaro just doesn’t have the TIME to be crying all over the place. he was probably a total wreck when he lost his first sister. and his second. and maybe even his third. but then he started to gather his composure, more and more. because if there’s anything that rantaro has in excess, it’s composure. the more losses he suffers the more of a shield he builds up. and the self hatred and the guilt and the blame and the responsibility are piling up and up and up, but god he hates it when other people see him sad, because he needs to be the strong one, he can’t just pile that up on other people. that’s not their weight to carry, and besides, he’s the older brother, he should be able to deal with his own problems. he’d just be burdening the people he cares about by letting them see his demons.

and then he doesn’t have any coping mechanisms because he never lets himself feel enough to cope, and when people get close enough to actually CARE about him, when people notice he’s upset or struggling and offer him help, he doesn’t know how to deal with it-- and god he hates lashing out at people but it’s so much easier to deal with the consequences of being mean than the consequences of breaking down. only conflict is scary when he’s one of the causes so he needs time to recover, and well, what better way to do that than to get on a plane or a boat and go look for his sisters? after all he’s wasting time whenever he’s just sitting around, they’re still out there and he needs to find them, so might as well just keep pushing himself to the limits, because it’s his fault they’re lost anyway...

something mukuro said to rantaro in the talent development plan stuck in my brain. like, initially it’s just a funny and cute interaction (rantaro even blushes and a blushing rantaro is a GOOD FUCKING RANTARO) but when i thought about it more i was like.... huh. hm. angst ideas. mukuro makes a joke about rantaro going over to her stand at the festival to flirt with her-- i think that’s the context, i know it’s play-boy related-- and rantaro assures her (as he always does) that he’s not that kind of guy, and mukuro agrees, saying she was just pulling his leg and that he seems like the kind of person who gets dumped because he doesn’t show his emotions enough. rantaro laughs, blushes, and says “haha, not touching that one,” and akdjfnnnnnn god mukuro you’re so blunt i love you fkdjf but wow. i usually have rantaro as not having dated anyone, just because i feel like he kind of hyperfocuses on finding his sisters? and given that he’s like sixteen (seventeen at the MOST) there’s not much of a timeline for when his sisters got lost. in my fic search i had to cram all the losses into a four-year period and damn that was rough. anyway i just don’t think he’d really prioritise romance. but that reaction implies that that’s EXACTLY his experience with romance, which makes a bit of sense because mukuro is ridiculously sharp, and also it’s,, it’s just sad idk poor rantaro. getting dumped because he’s like the emotional equivalent of a doorknob when it comes to his own feelings.

i do think rantaro is a bit cowardly. not in the sense that he’d shy away from danger-- i think he’d RUSH INTO IT HEAD FIRST because he’s a man or whatever, i know he respects women but he does seem to hold some of those very stereotypically masculine ideals of constantly protecting those around him, which is like.... ok toxic masculinity mcgee can u and kaito stop throwing hands every time u see each other ty-- but more in the sense that he avoids,,, confrontation. emotional confrontation just ain’t his thing. and i think he’d rather run away from it or otherwise find some way of ignoring it than try to address his problems.

he would, with that in mind, probably try to associate with people who don’t push the matter. kiyo and mukuro, for example. they both have a fair amount of baggage themselves so they’d probably be respectful. ryoma is lowkey enough that he just, he wouldn’t bring that shit up, that’s uncool. i also think rantaro would get along REALLY WELL with kaito, and i actually don’t think kaito would pull his sidekick stuff with him? just because in a way they’re kind of kindred spirits, and i think kaito would see an ally in rantaro before seeing someone to try to nurture, so they’d probably have some kind of a truce like, if you don’t force me to be vulnerable, i won’t force you. one of the reasons why i love amamota so much is because it involves the two of them growing to care about each other beyond that sort of unhealthy camaraderie and breaking down each other’s barriers and i just..... hhnnfhhdkfj they could be so good for each other but nobody wants to talk about thatjslfkj

you weren’t asking for my amamota mess lmao sorry anon i get sidetracked SO easily. but yeah, amami gravitates towards people who wouldn’t try to get him to be more honest with himself. and i honestly think the v3 cast would be pretty good about that overall, except for shuichi who is a detective and has a habit of sticking his nose in places it shouldn’t be, but i see no reason to write that out because amami’s ftes already display that beautifully. (well, that’s a lie, i’m absolutely plotting out a slowburn in my head already that involves shuichi stripping down his walls one by one, but forget about all of that rn we don’t need to talk about why amasaimota is my ot3.) also he is softer on childish people like ouma and himiko. ain’t nobody wants to TALK TO ME about how brilliant it would be if rantaro and hiyoko were friends because hiyoko has such problems in that department and he would take one look at her and go hm. i’m adopting her. and he’s so fucking patient and nice and she’d lose the will to make fun of him and i have to do ALL THE GODDAMN WORK AROUND HERE but it’s fine. at least i get to write it.

i’ve described the fundamentals of his characterisation pretty well by now i think. i have some throwaway headcanons, like uhh,,

he’s claustrophobic

plays the guitar and the ukulele

he prefers warm weather and perishes in the cold

high pain tolerance

he’s a Good Cook

doesn’t like sex jokes (they make him uncomfortable)

asexual (i do like a good demisexual hc at all times of day tho)

master of piggyback rides

does his own piercings

impulsive as hell

gets lost easily but can always find his way back

has a lot of scars from travels

hands are rough and calloused (again from travels)

morning person

smells like evergreen (you know i had to, you know i did)

Radiates Heat Like A Fucking Toaster Oven

good hugs

hates tying his shoelaces

likes being the big spoon :)

has a tongue piercing

i said “some throwaway headcanons” but i ended up listing way more than i mean to. i’ll make a separate list of my rantaro headcanons someday and talk about them all in detail but for now, uh, there’s that.

SO AS FOR THE RANTARO CHARACTERISATIONS I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE:

god where to fucking begin. actually i know exactly where to begin. it’s my least favourite one just because, like i said at the very beginning, rantaro is a subversive character. i mean i think he’s kind of a low hanging fruit when it comes to that. there are plenty of other subversive characters in the dr series but rantaro is like that. you expect a flirt and u get,,, a sweetheart. but then some people (usually the ones who ship him with female characters exclusively though i will see it on occasion in an amasai or oumami fic) decide to throw that out the window and make him a total playboy!! and listen, i have no problem with people who are a little flirty. we’re kids!! flirt ur heart out!!! and hey, that’s not what this is about but y’know what? so long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual, then yeah!! exercise your sexual freedom and sleep with whoever you want to!!! i don’t think there’s anything wrong with messing around a little, dating who u wanna and experimenting with ur tastes and preferences. if rantaro WAS a playboy, then there would be nothing wrong with that. i would love him just the same because he’s such a fundamentally GOOD character.

except that.... he’s.......... NOT. you slaughter one of the biggest aspects of his character by throwing away what matters to him and making him some hunky-deep-voice-dreamboat dude meant to sweep kaede/tsumugi/whomsteverthefuck off her feet. rantaro is one of those characters where he’s so blatantly not that kind of person, and it’s like. it’s an affront, almost, to portray him that way? and i do believe you should have the freedom to write what you want, since we’re in that age (aside from romanticised pedophilia and incest; that shit ain’t cute, i say this often but pro-ship DNI) where u should be able to take some liberties, but it’s just. hnnn. it’s so frustrating. rantaro does not know how to smolder! if he DID smolder, he wouldn’t even realise he was doing it. he doesn’t have people lying at his feet, okay? he’s too flaky for that. i wouldn’t say he’s unreliable but he definitely ain’t at school as much as he should be.

another one that i hate: st-stalker? what the fuck? that is not sexy that is creepy and weird?

another another one that i hate: yandere? what the FUCK??? that is not sexy that is glorified ABUSE???? the yandere trope is AWFUL bc you’re taking a controlling relationship and turning it into a fetish. NO. if he limits ur contact with other people, if he follows u everywhere, if he threatens ur loved ones, if he tries to control you, ladies and gents and nonbinaries, he’s not a yandere, he’s an abuser and you need a fucking restraining order. actually, people of ANY gender or sex can perpetuate this behaviour and IT IS NOT CUTE. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK WHAT BOUNDARIES U SET IN PLACE, IF YOUR FREEDOM IS BEING RESTRICTED THAT IS ABUSE.

hate it when people make rantaro violent. hate it when people make rantaro a murderer. hate it when people make rantaro controlling. hate it when people make rantaro overtly sexual. some kind of sultry deep voice dominant kind of figure. dude, what the fuck? i don’t,, want to make any public comments about sex positions because i think that’s kind of Strange to just talk about on a post, but i do think that the way people portray him for their smuts is,,, idk it’s weird. i’m not gonna kinkshame u but like. :eyes:

i will however accept rantaro as a thrillseeker, or a highstrung rich boy, or a total space cadet, or a himbo, or a cryptid. these are all very good interpretations of the Mans. just, like. be wary of making him two dimensional. a good character is multifaceted. if you can take a trait that clashes with all of these and SELL ME ON IT, i will buy it. if u give me good justifications, or even just good writing?? then i will accept it.

the long and the short of it is, anon, he’s my favourite so i think about him a lot. i love writing rantaro. he’s just, he’s a Guy. y’know? He’s A Good Dude, If You’ll Give Him A Shot. :) we don’t get to see very much of him but i think that there’s plenty of material if you overanalyse everything, which, as you probably all know by now,,,, i absolutely do.

thank you for the ask, this was a delight to spend an hour talking about.

[purplesurveys]

962

Do you have a pair of Beat headphones? I used to have a pair. I mean it’s still around in my closet, but it’s completely broken now with the cable all given out and the cushion for the left ear has been missing for a while. I just don’t have the heart to throw it out because it was my absolute favorite pair of headphones that gave me good memories during a particularly shitty time in high school.

How was your week? A little better. I’ve gotten into the groove at work so I’m no longer shy when it comes to asking questions and giving inputs, and I’ve gained a better grasp of the workplace’s dynamic so it’s also been easier to communicate with people. Heavy life stuff is still around and it won’t be leaving for a while, but they were easier to ignore this week.

Are any of your electronics not working properly at the moment? Not really, but my phone’s charger cable recently stopped working. I have a backup that I’m using at the moment and while it’s able to charge my phone, it’s starting to fray and I’m not feeling too good about the wires that I’m starting to see hahaha. I just don’t know how to take care of my cables, guys. Anyway, this question made me paranoid so I took a few minutes to wrap a shit ton of electrical tape on the frayed area so I think it’s all good for now.

Are you excited to pick out your wedding dress one day? I like thinking about my wedding but I truthfully dread the wedding gown part. I’ve never been able to decide what look and style suits me best and I’ve just never been good at determining things like that. I like to imagine that I’d leave that bit to whoever my maid of honor will be, because I’d definitely prize a second opinion more than my own.

When was the last time you felt relieved? Yesterday, 6 PM when I exited the last Google Meet for the day. It was a Friday night and it meant my work week was over :)) I mean I love what I do, but Friday nights will always hit differently.

Does it bother you when an artist remakes a song that one has previously done? I wouldn’t say it bothers me but covers are definitely a hit or miss for me, with way more misses than hits. Nothing wrong with acts putting their own spin on an already existing song, but I’m personally the “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” type when it comes to music.

What brand of chapstick do you use? I don’t use any mainly because I’m bound to lose them within a week. Same goes for other care products.

Do you really think someone could be perfect? No. Everyone has their flaws and that should be okay to acknowledge.

When was the last time you cried? Wednesday, I think. It’s been three days! I’d count that as an achievement. But idk, my sadness comes in waves so I shouldn’t be celebrating too early. I’m sure I’ll feel a pang soon and be crying again over the weekend.

What’s a food that you like every once in awhile but not often? Cake. Too sweet and rich; I wouldn’t enjoy eating it every day. What letter is the song you’re listening to under? Not listening to music, but I have a YouTube video on.

Would you rather visit the 60s or 70s? 60s would be the lesser evil, I guess. I would NOT want to live through Martial Law in the 70s...I originally wasn’t even going to go with 60s because I think the world was a bit chaotic at the time, but I think my country was mostly unaffected by the political/cultural things happening then so it’s whatever.

Are you the type of person that enjoys getting hugs? I don’t actively seek them out but it feels nice when someone likes me enough to extend their arms out to me for a hug. I haven’t been hugged for a while and I feel kinda empty.

Do your socks say anything on them? I think some of my socks have the brand name on them but that’s it.

Name a TV channel that only has three letters in it. AMC.

Have you found out who your true friends are? For now, yes.

Gray or Grey? I use both spellings for no particular context. I simply like changing it up lol.

Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? LOL of course not. And I’m very picky when it comes to concerts that I choose to attend anyway, so I doubt I would’ve bought any tickets in the last six months even without Covid unless it was for Paramore or Beyoncé.

Have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Did you like it? Nope, but everyone was hyping that movie up when it came out. It never really looked like my thing < Yeah pretty much. I feel like it’s such a teenage-y movie so I was never drawn to it. I also think it would be too triggering for my depression, so I’ve felt wary about checking both book and movie out.

Is there something you’d fall apart if you didn’t have? One of my biggest fears is to end up alone, so I always have to have some form of a support system to fall back into. I would be very lost if I didn’t have at least one person to rely on.

How many weddings have you been to? I can think of four off the top of my head. I was either a flower girl or a junior bridesmaid for all of those.

When you smile, are you confident? Most times I am; I like to smile. But sometimes I smile just to fake it and avoid any questions.

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? Yesss, all the time. I’ve always been all about following the rules and I’ve never seen the appeal in breaking them. That makes me sound boring but at least I’ve never gotten in serious trouble lol.

Was the weather beautiful today? For me it is, but only because I like the rain and cloudy weather. Others might find it bleak and sad, but I feel right at home.

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? Yeah, all year long.

Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? If I had my dream modern/brutalist home, grey would be soooo fucking perfect for the bedroom. 

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? I’m open to it, but I don’t think it’ll be a good match for my black hair as both are darker shades as it is. If I could dye my hair I’d pick lighter colors like green or even go all the way to blonde.

Have you ever gone to a private school? Yeah, from kindergarten all the way to high school. Private schools here typically give a better quality of education and they don’t give off the for-lazy-spoiled-kids vibe that I always hear from private schools in other countries, which makes them the norm for middle and upper-middle class families.

Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? I have other favorite animated movies, but that doesn’t stop me from loving Finding Nemo. :) I would always tune in for the whole thing if it were on.

Does/Did your school have a uniform? I had to wear one in my first school, but I didn’t need one for college.

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? No TV where I am. I think my parents are watching a movie on their TV, but it’s on Netflix rather than a channel.

Does your house have security cameras? It does not.

Does a popsicle sound good right now? Eh, I guess it sounds fine but I’d rather have a pint of ice cream. I think that fits better with the weather and the mood that I’m in today.

What’s your favorite exercise workout? My weight training class last year was a lot of fun. I always felt dead after every session haha but I definitely felt healthier. I wish the semester had gone on longer just for that one class.

What’s your favorite thing to do? Lol I love doing many different things < Same lmao this question is so vague??? My favorite thing to do these days is binge-watch Rhett and Link content, but I like doing so many other things too.

What did you do for your 17th birthday? I was with Gabie that day and we went to a local art museum, as well as to a restaurant that she had wanted to take me to.

Does your local Walmart have benches in them to rest? We don’t have Walmarts.

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? I never had stuffed animals. Well I was given a few of them as gifts, but I was never into them and they always ended up being owned by my sister.

If your house was haunted, what would you do? Not even think about it. Just show them that I couldn’t care less, lol.

Are you good at swimming? I can do a few strokes and am pretty good at treading, but I'm prone to panic-kicking when I can tell that the water is too deep.

What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Slow internet is such a pain in the ass. Shouldn’t even have to be an issue in 2020 anymore.

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Cat-called, whistled at, winked at, lunged at. One good thing about this lockdown is that I haven’t had to deal with men as much as I used to. Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Well I only have one layer of bedsheet and it’s the one that covers up the mattress, so it’s tucked in by default. I have a blanket to cover me up when I’m cold.

What do you do to fall asleep faster? I find a few videos to watch as that tends to make me feel sleepy the quickest.

Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? I used to have a tumbler/water bottle in college but I forgot it at the gym one day and when I came back for it, somebody already stole it :( It was such a handy water bottle because it kept my water cold all day, so it sucks that I lost it. I’m planning to buy the same model again soon.

Are you afraid that one day you might get cancer? It doesn’t really run in my family save for one grand-aunt who had cancer, so I’m not too worried. But I’ve accepted the fact that it is at least a possibility.

Are you a fast or slow walker? I like being in the middle. Slow walkers are annoying so I try not to be one, and walking fast just reminds me of my mom and how quickly she walks at malls when she’s supposed to be spending time with her family lol.

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? No. They all fit me just fine.

Does it bother you when people’s underwear hangs out? Eghhh, it really does. I know it shouldn’t but it really does. I just feel like it’s so invasive and it gives me a lot of secondhand embarassment.

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? Not really. I like staying safe with my hair. The most daring thing I’ve done with it is get bangs tbh, and I don’t plan on going any further than that.

When’s your birthday? April 21st.

What age do you look forward to reaching? I don’t feel that way about any age. Whenever I reach ultimate satisfaction and security will be a good enough age for me.

Name a state that begins with the letter M. Minnesota.

What’s the first thing you do after a car accident? Think about how to tell my parents. D:

What do you use to get rid of bad breath? Brush my teeth, drink water.

What exercise do you hate the most? Pull-ups.

What do you do at a party? Drink, socialize, tell stories, eat allllllll the food ha.

[aaronhart93-archive]

discord II text Roman & Aaron

Discord thread featuring: Aaron and @romanbeckett​

Mentions: @davieslandon​ @malakhai-ozera​ @jayceelynd​ @alison-haynes​

Where: Aaron is at his house and Roman is at his house.

When: evening of May 26th-monrning of May 27th, 11:30p-2:30a

Description: Roman texts Aaron and they talk all night until they both fall asleep

Trigger Warnings: smut, what I would imagine harry’s peen to look like, really cute shit

Roman.

Hey.

Aaron.

hi

Roman.

Khai broke up with me, so. With us.

with Jay and I. And he left.

Aaron.

oh my god...im sorry Ro

Roman.

Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.

Aaron.

what did he say? Like why...?

Roman.

He told us that he loved us but needed time to work on himself or whatever.

Aaron.

I don’t know Khai that well but it does seem like he’s got a lot of shit to figure out

how are you doing with it?

and jayc? Should I reach out to her or....does she not know we’re talking

Roman.

you can talk to her if you want. I think we both just don’t really know how to feel to be honest.

Aaron.

im sorry

i hope he's okay

and i hope you and Jayc are okay too

Roman.

don’t be lol honestly Aaron, I set myself up for it the second I agreed to close myself off, knowing all of the issues I need to work through as well

contrary to popular belief, I’m far from having it all figured out.

Aaron.

that makes two of us

that was quick tbh

Roman.

Yeah. I just feel like an idiot.

Aaron.

what no....thats not what i meant

Roman.

anyway.

how are you

Aaron.

okay....no please dont feel like an idiot. its his fault not yours

im....okay....getting better than i was last week

miss you though not gonna lie

Roman.

I miss you, too. A lot.

Aaron

:(

im sorry

idk why i am i just feel like i need to apologize

Roman.

you have nothing to be sorry for lol at all

if anything, I’m sorry.

for bringing you into all this drama

and making you eat at a Chinese buffet lol

Aaron.

making me eat at a Chinese buffet is the only thing you have to be sorry for

also

i inserted myself into this mess as well. and didn't pull out once i realized who you were to landon

Roman.

does it make me immature if I laugh at you saying you didn’t pull out once?

Aaron.

RO

YES BUT IM HERE FOR IT

Roman.

I might just be high, but now I can’t stop laughing lol

Aaron.

sksjks

im sober and laughing so

well not sober

i had a few drinks

Roman.

everyone knows you’re a lightweight Aaron, stop tryin’ to be sly lol

Aaron.

who you callin a lightweight, lightweight?

Roman.

only when I haven’t eaten anything LIGHTWEIGHT

Aaron.

https://tenor.com/view/uncalled-gif-5394176

michelle tanner voice

Roman.

You miss me. Just a reminder.

Aaron.

you miss me

another reminder

Roman.

I’m not the one calling you rude lol

Aaron.

you called me out for being a lightweight and i retaliated

forgive me

Roman.

you’re in denial is what you are :fingerguns2:

but I’ll forgive you.

Aaron.

idk you'd think for how much i drink i'd have a higher tolerance

i need therapy

Roman.

probably lol I’ll go with you

Aaron.

lol couples counseling?

jk

jk

Roman.

I actually think it would be quite funny to see what they have to say about US

Aaron.

i need a therapist to tell it like it is

then again i do have ali

that woman calls me out on my shit literally daily

maybe shes just a free therapist

Roman.

LMAO that’s...amazing. I like her already.

Aaron.

she do be driving me up a wall

but

shes family

Roman.

Ah, family. I’ve been trying to get my sister here, but she’s being an ass lol

Aaron.

asshat

who wouldn’t want to move to New York

Roman.

satans demons.

Aaron.

exactly

whats keeping her from coming?

Roman.

she’s not as hellbent on big cities as I am lol

Aaron.

weird

city life has always been for me

arent you from manchester? is that not a big city?

Roman.

it’s not New York lol

she lives in the country now though.

Aaron.

no city is new york

Roman.

exactly lol

Aaron.

what are you doing

besides getting high

Roman.

I’m naked on the couch eating cherry gilato while watching good mythical morning on YouTube

Aaron.

i would very much like to be naked on a couch with you

Roman.

I painted my nails and did a facial first lol i could do yours as well

Aaron.

ill take the facial

i couldn't pull off the nails though

Roman.

you’d look so kickass with some black nails

Aaron.

you think?

Roman.

hell yes. Even a sky blue, like those eyes

Aaron.

i blush

maybe we can try the toe nails first

in case I end up hating them

Roman.

OH, I’m also trained in Swedish massage, head to toe. If you want a personal spa day

Aaron.

that would just give me a boner

Roman.

well, it’s a FULL body massage after all.

Aaron.

sksjsks

dont tempt me

Roman.

Aaron. I just.

is it bad that I don’t want to stay away from you anymore?

that’s a dumb question

I know it’s bad.

Aaron.

its not dumb

I don’t want to stay away from you either

but I promised Landon

Roman.

I know. So did I.

You’re right, I’m sorry.

Aaron.

he’s my best friend

dont be sorry

im glad you’re being honest with me

I just don’t see Landon being okay with this anytime soon

Roman.

I know! I know. He’s mine too, and I care about him more than I care to admit. I shouldn’t be like this.

Aaron.

damn this is fucked up

Roman.

I shouldn’t have said anything

Aaron.

I wish this could be easier

im the one that started with the boner references

Roman.

Not really. I offered you a massage

Aaron.

okay yes but

I told you I wanted to be naked with you

Roman.

because I said I was naked

Aaron.

I just don’t want you blaming yourself that’s all

Roman.

I know, but it is what it is. I made a mess of everything, and now everything I had is ruined lol I deserve it.

Aaron.

Ro

I’m sad you think so little of yourself

Roman.

I don’t. It’s just consequences. I made bad decisions, and now I have to deal with the consequences. That’s all. It’ll all be okay.

Aaron.

I wish I could make you feel better

Roman.

you already do. I promise.

Aaron.

I just smiled

Roman.

show me?

Aaron.

sure

Roman.

omg bad idea my heart

Aaron.

oop

Roman.

you’re so fucking jahshsbzjdndjendj

Aaron.

AKDJDJAKALhdja

Roman.

I’m mad at you

for looking like that

Aaron.

Well i can’t stop thinking about u

Roman.

let me just

Aaron.

yeah I kept drinking

and as we’ve established I’m a lightweight

okay I showed you a selfie now you should be a selfie

Roman.

oh yeah? Trying to boss me around again are ya?

Aaron.

do what daddy says

Roman.BOTToday at 2:02 AM

yes daddy.

Aaron.

brb gotta go jack off

Roman.

stoppppp

Aaron.

not kidding

Roman.

you don’t need a better picture than that to do the deed

??? Lolll

Aaron.

I mean....you could send me some

Roman.BOTToday at 2:09 AM

Does this help?

Aaron.

holy fuck

ugh I wanna fuck you so bad

and put all of you in my mouth

Roman.

I want it too. I shouldn’t, but I do. I want you to fuck me with my hands tied behind my back, and you pulling on my collar from behind.

Aaron.

fuck don’t put those thoughts in my head or I’ll act up

I wanna tie you up so bad

and punish you for being so naughty

Roman.

I’d want to call out your name so loud, but you’d have to let me.

Aaron.

you can’t do anything without my permission

Roman.

I’ll do my best daddy. You know I like to make you proud.

Aaron.

Ro I just came into a sock so hard

I want you so bad but the fact I can’t have you makes that even hotter to me

Roman.

forbidden fruit, hm?

Aaron.

you’re my forbidden fruit for sure

Roman.

wish I could have been there to help

Aaron.

you did enough helping trust me

Roman.

are we terrible people lol

Aaron.

I know

we are

im trying though

so that’s gotta count for something

Roman.

I hope it does, for both our sakes lol

Aaron.

if this doesn’t work out we can always be together in hell

Roman.

that sounds like a rightful ending

at least I’ll be tan.

Aaron.

we’ll both be hot and tan chilling in hell together

and we can fuck all we want

Roman.

sounds like the next big Netflix series.

Aaron.

could you imagine a Netflix series about us

Roman.

no, I’m scared to lol it would be more insane than Tiger King

Aaron.

you think our lives are more insane than Tiger King?!?

Roman.

scary, right??

Aaron.

thats definitely...quite the comparison

Roman.

I would have loved to have seen your face watching it for the first time

Aaron.

watching that together would have been so fun

I can picture us watching that and freaking out together

Roman.

maybe one night we’ll trip acid and watch it again

Aaron.

confession I’ve never tripped before

Roman.

whaaaaaa

do it with me!

Aaron.

I mean yeah I used to do a lot of coke when I got drunk and sometimes still do but that been the extent of my drug use

hahaha I will trip with you, Roman Beckett

Roman.

aces! Just tell me when and where, and it’s a plan!

Aaron.

”aces”

but yeah let’s do it this weekend

Roman.

I’m British you knob. Shut up lol

Aaron.

I know MATE I was making fun of you

Roman.

sends long audio clip making fun of Aaron’s New York accent

Aaron

brooooo

I do say that though

Roman.

I know, I’ve listened to you talk enough

it’s cute though

ready for bed?

Aaron.

just about

I was gonna go to bed a while ago but wanted to keep texting you

Roman.

same.

tuck me in lol

Aaron.

do u want me to tell you a bedtime story

Roman.

yes, but make it snappy

and I want warm milk

Aaron.

damn

so bossy

but okay

Roman.

you know I’m spoiled.

Aaron.

that must’ve been my fault

okay Des like this one:

By the African river, know as the Nile The sun fell away and it rested a while The rhinos had braved all the smoldering heat They lay down to sleep as they wiped off their feet The elephants marched to their elephant beds And gently they rested their elephant heads Slowly the hippos sank into the river The water so cold that it gave them a shiver (Hippos can't swim, like the pelicans think They also can't float, they could easily sink) The hippos went bathing in cool, shallow pools Thinking the rhinos and elephants fools Underwater, they fell to the soft river bed On darkish green plants with a smidgen of red They strolled on the bottom, then bounced up for air They did it for hours, without any care The fish followed closely, and wove in an out Under their belly, and up to their snout Each of the hippos came up to the shore To feed on the grass by the river once more They dried off their bodies by shaking and stomping And took bites of grass, chewing and chomping With night fading fast, they were full from the feast The sun returned back, rising up form the east The hippos crept off to collapse for the day While rhinos and elephants got up to play Enjoying the warmth of the sun and its light Never knowing the story of hippos at night

just read it in my New York accent you’re so good at

goodnight Lois

Roman.

that was perfect. Goodnight Clark.

[aheartofink]

Re-EDIT GoT!

In regards of the recent petition to remake season 8 of Game of Thrones, I think instead of remaking it HBO and the writers should re-edit it. They should go back to their storyboard and work with what they already filmed and add more to it so the storyline for season 8 actually makes sense. Fill in the plotholes and the gaps that are linked to the reason why most people hate on season 8. They are confused and so am I. I would hate to see all the cast and crew hardwork go to waste just to be remade for the fans satisfaction of a good ending.

The ending (this includes Dany's inevitable turn to madness idk about the inbetween plots) was set up by GRRM long before D&D started writing season 8, so season 8's turn of events was and always will happen regardless. So they shouldn't change it. However, they should have developed the storyline deeper for the ending to fall into place perfectly. The only reason, I feel, that the storyline was written poorly was because their is only 6 episodes. Only 6. 6 rushed episodes that merely followed the "tell and not show" writing tactic to get things moving to fit the short time frame. Too little time with the characters we have followed for 10 years or more (book readers). Too little time to develop a coherent plot. Too little time to put a close to characters acrs and doom. Too little time to say goodbye. 6 was not enough to make a good storyline for a finale even for other TV shows, it is not enough. I'm saying 6 episodes was the problem.

If they were to remake everything, well that would also be a waste of time and money since we already know the impending end to this story and we can't change it. I feel that it is better if they were to re-edited it. Adding more scenes to provide viewers with an inside view to characters POV to see what is happening, what they are thinking *cough*Jaime*cough*Bran*cough*Dany*cough*. Just add more plot to have a good foundation for how this season 8's storyline plays out because we are getting increments! Reminder, HBO literally offered D&D as much freedom to end GOT the way it should, meaning they had the budget to have 10 episodes!

Examples:

(These are just examples of what I'm trying to convey for the re-writing of GoT in regards of if there was 10 episodes)

Dany's Madness:

Yes, we have all heard that Dany's madness was foreshadowed since season 2 and I could see it. Don't get me wrong I loved Dany's character and her arc, but there was always an underlying tone of madness in her and I appreciate the subtlety. Since it is going to happen anyways the writers should have written her character to bring up some more of her subtle madness, progressively getting less subtle through the episodes until the burning of KL.

I can see were the Dany stans are coming from and I support their points. The writers should have foreshadowed it more especially this season showing a progression. Such as more burning lines, more Viserys lines, more scenes of her feeling isolated in Westeros, just bring back all those subtle madness hints back into this season as a "full circle foreshadow". What I loved about episode 4 was the scene in the dining hall when your in Dany's POV seeing Jon get all the love. The whole eeriness of the scene was perfect for her feeling like she didn't belong. Tge slow motion shot of her looking at the dining hall gave me a sense of her feeling underappreciated and foreign to her people after she had sacrificed so much just to get no love. We needed more of that. Slow progressive burn my friends for the ultimate burn.

Bran the Three Eyed Raven

Bran and his mysterious powers remain a mystery as they get dismissed by his character when asked about it. "Its a long complicated story". Well, explain it or at least show us what he is seeing while he is warging into ravens to give viewers insight.

On the topic of how Bran knew the NK's motives, we were simply told. I think we should have been given more POV screentime with Bran. Him seeing the NK and what he wants. If the NK could actually talk instead of broading and smiling let him speak to Bran while he is in his "trace". There is a reason why people meme Bran. All he does is sit, stalk, and "I'm gonna go now".

Jaime's "Redemtion" Arc

Honestly I would be okay if they changed Jaime's redemption arc to actually fit the whole idea of a redemption arc, but that's up for debate. If they were to keep his arc of inevitably going back to Cersei, obviously they shouldn't have done right after he sleeps with Brienne. What they should add is him debating with himself about Cersei to himself or to Tyrion. We were left off in season 7 with Jaime basically leaving his sister and "Fuck loyalty". Anyway, we should have seen a progression of him turning back into his old ways instead of sleeping with Brienne and the two minutes later "I want to be with Cersei". There was little to no indication of this we NEEDED indications.

I was a played a clown for thinking Jaime broke Brienne's heart to save her the pain of never seeing him alive after he goes back to KL to kill Cersei. He really should have since hey, there's a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled hello! Anyways, I digress.

Sequence of Events Rearrangement (by episode)

Arrival at Winterfell, lovely lovely reunions, Bran contacting/seeing the NK and learning his motives, madness level 1.

Jon learns lineage, more contact with NK, Jaime's arrival, and madness level 2.

More Bran visions, jon tells lineage to his family first (shown), reunions, Bran tells NK's motives, and madness level 3.

Same plot as "The Knight of the Seven Kingdoms", Cersei's POVs, and madness level 4.

Same plot as "The Long Night".

Celebrations, Jon tells Dany of lineage, plans for to march on KL, and madness level 5.

Marching on KL, adventures with Arya and Sandor, Tyrion learns Jon's true lineage, Missandei and Rhaegal die, and madness level 8.

Plans, Varys learns Jon's lineage and dies, and madness level 9.

Burning of KL and madness level 10.

The inevitable end.

^^this is a very rough sequence of episodes if their was 10 but makes sense in my mind lmao. I think D&D's storyline was good, it's the restriction of 6 episodes which made the storyline falter.

[coeurvrai]

Anyways, they arrive at her room and they say good night.

She pulled away from Serefin but he caught her hand. He lifted it to his mouth, kissing it gently.

Nadya blushed instantly.

Dear god, she just easily blushes. Tranavian dudes just touch her and she’s all gooey, like really, is your threshold that low?

Parijahan laughed. Nadya dropped her head into her hands. “He isn’t what I expected.” She had been expecting someone more like how she’d first seen Malachiasz—intimidating and powerful—and wasn’t sure what to do with this charmingly awkward boy. That he was one of the most powerful blood mages in Tranavia—as well as a heretic—unfortunately caused her fingers to itch for the szitelka hidden in her sleeve. She had wavered too much already; she couldn’t allow herself to feel any more.

You act like you hadn’t briefly met him previously at the monastery, when you were thoroughly terrified of him and what he could do! I literally can’t get over how she’s so fucking charmed within a day of getting to know him. Also oh boy, there’s that “heretic” again, I didn’t miss it whatsoever.

Also, you say that you haven’t made out with Malachiasz and had several moments with him already, regardless of your apparently rapidly developing feelings towards Serefin. Your goddess occasionally makes comments of disapproval but besides, there’s no actual consequences for your apparent wavering loyalty towards the cause.

Of course, your loyalty and your hatred of Tranavia is paper-thin but the book keeps trying to tell us it’s not and that it’s a crucial part of your character.

God, this book frustrates me to no end. 

Nadya had spent a fair portion of the evening tracking the king’s movements, trying to decipher just how many guards he had around him at all times, just how difficult it would be to separate him and kill him.

You hadn’t, really! Serefin had more awareness of the king’s movements and his Vultures than you did, and he’s not even the one trying to assassinate the king! Stop telling us things that Nadya does or believes, and start showing them, for fuck’s sake. Have some goddamn internal consistency. 

Their odds weren’t good. “Do you think I’ll have to win this—whatever this Rawalyk is—to get us close enough?”

Parijahan considered, her gray eyes cast up at the painting on the ceiling. “I don’t know if we have that much time. Be careful around any Vultures you see lurking around the palace.”

Parijahan has gray eyes??? I swear she had dark eyes, but that one might be down to my shitty memory. Also does Malachiasz count? Haha! 

Nadya pulled Kostya’s necklace out from under the neckline of her dress and flipped it between her fingers. She didn’t need to be warned about the Vultures.

You shouldn’t need to be, but it seems people have to remind you anyways. Also again, caring about Kostya only when it’s convenient for you. You don’t give a shit half of the time, but oh boy, gotta pull that card out when you need a shallow reminder of your supposed motives.

We get a tiny little bit of worldbuilding about Akola. Parijahan gets all nostalgic and fond at the thought, describing Akola as warm and sandy, and everything the light catches “is golden”. She’s been away from her country a long time and doesn’t know if she’ll ever go back.

Considering her sister(?) got murdered and she caused a diplomatic incident through swearing and trying to avenge her death, I’m not surprised whatsoever.

“We’re asking too much of you, Nadya, I know that. We’re asking you to trust us, foreigners that we are, and Malachiasz, monster that he is, and put your entire being on the line for the sake of something that may be impossible.” She rested her forehead against Nadya’s. “Please do not think just because you fell into our lives at an opportune moment that the three of us do not care about you. I do, and Rashid and Malachiasz do as well.”

“I’m used to being used for my power,” Nadya said. “You three are my friends. I’m just tired of secrets.”

Sure, I totally believe that. You’re totally the tightest of friends, and all ride-or-die for each other, and shit. Yeah, that’s totally believable. Also Parijahan acts like the rest of them aren’t like, fucking risking their lives trying to assassinate the king as well. Like, shit, I know Nadya’s a Cleric and all of that, but it’s not like hypothetical death isn’t on the cards for the others too, including her.

Also, yeah, Nadya totally cares for her friends. What about Anna, Nadya?

Nadya says she’s relieved to see that there was a softness to Parijahan, which has me like??? I’m pretty sure Parijahan has been soft with you before, it’s not like she’s been particularly stoic or untrusting towards you like lmao what. 

Anyways, we jump to sometime later and Nadya decides to walk around at night, despite Parijahan’s concerns. Nadya calls her “Parj”.

Nadya is worried about accessing the Gods. Considering the fact that Marzenya could talk to her at dinner and she could still access her divine magic basically without issue during the fight, so I’m not sure why she’s so fucking concerned. But anyways, she wants to go to the palace library and some royal guards point her there. 

She wasn’t expecting to find anything on her magic in the library, but surely someone had documented the blood magic causing the heavens to be blocked off from the earth. Tranavians were so terribly proud of it after all.

Oh yeah, like you’re so terribly proud about your religion and your divine magic and all of that? Also, I don’t know why she thinks that it’s a particular type of spell or whatever that’s causing the non-issue blockage. It could be a side-effect of the fact that their magic exists and how it’s present in basically every facet of their life that’s causing a naturally occurring repelling effect for the gods.

Also I still don’t understand how the gods can’t just fucking smite down Tranavia themselves if their “heresy” is such an issue. There’s literally nothing stopping them from doing it themselves. Marzenya is the goddess of magic, I still don’t know how it doesn’t come under her domain otherwise. Makes no sense. 

It’s not like divine magic doesn’t work on Tranavians. Zlatek cast that Silence spell on Malachiasz after all and it worked. 

Nadya didn’t have a firm sense of what she was searching for, but if growing up in a monastery had taught her anything, it was how to find exactly what she needed from a library.

I feel like that’s a hard case of ED’s library degree coming through and I’d almost be endeared if I didn’t have so many issues with ED.

Nadya wanders through the library and follows the Gods’ faint presence till she finds an old ass book.   

The symbol on the first page was familiar. Uncomfortably familiar. She let go of her prayer beads, shoving them deep into her pocket, and reached for the necklace hanging around her neck.

The same spiral was etched into the round pendant.

She only had time to flip to the first page. Enough time to see the word god scrawled in that spiderweb hand. Enough time to realize she had stopped hearing the quiet sounds of other people in the room and to gather that someone was watching her.

Spooky! The necklace that Kostya gave her isn’t just a random ass necklace, it has meaning! A mysterious forgotten god, perhaps?!

ANYWAYS, we reach the end of the chapter and we come to another Serefin chapter, thank fuck for that.

[rogueprince19]

Letter to Xio...

Truth is Xio... I don’t know what to say.  For the past 3 years, I’ve thought about our next interaction. I don’t know how to begin expressing how terribly sorry I am for everything. I’ve beaten myself every day since then, and there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think of you. I don’t mean it in the creepy stalker way. I mean it as how you are doing, what kind of friends do you have, how’s your family. Do your friends treat you better than I ever did? Because I pray to God that they do. You deserved someone much better than me, I was a piece of shit to you, and if I could go back in time and change everything I did. I would. In a heartbeat, if it meant you still being in my life. I don’t know if you wanting me back in your life is in the cards, but honestly, I feel at times as if you never left. Again, not in a creepy way. I’ll pass by places, people, things and think about the conversations we had together. I still remember the little details. Like your sister’s birthday is on Valentine's day, and you used to have a dog named Snowball. Your presence lives on in the music I listen to every day, I listen to All Time Low all the time now. My favorite song on their new album Last Young Renegade is Good Times, it reminds me of the memories you and I both had together. I always listen to All Time Low when I’m sad now because I remember how they cheered you up and motivated you. Now I understand why you loved them so much. I was an idiot for not going with you to see them in concert. They’re fucking amazing. And Alex and Mark together in their band Simple Creatures? They’re great. I don’t know if you’ve been to Emo Nite yet. Every time I go I always miss you because we had always said that we were going to go together once we turned 21. So I drink for both of us lol. It was hell after we parted. The last thing you knew about me was that I was going to Cal State LA after high school, and that was that. But I didn’t last long. I was only there for a semester and a half and I dropped out of school for half a year. I was so lost, I fell into a deep depression after what happened with us. I didn’t have anyone, Ale had just moved to Washington, and I was completely alone. My parents were disappointed as hell, but they didn’t understand my depression. I fell so deep into my depression that I was constantly suicidal. Ale had to talk to my family because I was constantly drinking behind their backs, and I was suicidal a’f. I was a wreck. I couldn’t stand living with myself because of what I had done to you. Esperanza is a whole other thing, after high school, I didn’t give a fuck about what happened with her. I got over it quickly. Surprisingly lol. All the pain I had on the inside was from the loss of you. You were my best friend, my older sister and I fucked it all up. I’m not blaming you for anything, I blame myself for what I did. You deserved so much better. The only motivation that made me become better was you. I told myself over and over again that I had to become a better person because of you. I shouldn’t have put anyone through the shitty situation that I put you through. I always thought that if we ever became friends again, I would have to be a better person than I was before. So I worked hard. It was hell but that thought always gave me hope. It was the only thing that kept me going. I went to therapy, and I did a lot of research on self-help and read self-help books. I spent so much time alone, but I learned so much about myself. This was all during the time when I was beginning to go to LACC. I started from the ground and built myself back up. It was hell Xio. But you were always a motivation for me to keep going, even throughout your absence. I know I was going to study film, but I actually ended up switching to Psychology instead. Not because of Esperanza, but because of you. I became so interested in behaviors, and why people act a certain way. I was so interested in knowing why I behaved so shitty to you and wanted to know ways how to change it. Our fallout made me become interested in behavioral psychology. That’s what I’m pursuing now, and I’m hoping to make a difference in the life of someone as a psychologist because I don’t want them to have a bad experience like you did growing up. I want to change that. I worked my ass off at LACC and I just transferred over to CSUN this fall. During my time there I met really amazing people who became like family to me. I’m always telling them stories about us, and how much fun we used to have. They all know how I feel about you, and how you continue to have a special place in my heart. I have worked so hard these past few years, I feel like I would have made you proud. One of the biggest things that happened this year was that I came out as transgender. You were one of the first people I ever told, and you were so supportive and loving when I told you in high school. Even though I was anxious a’f with Alma (remember my assistant?). But I always remember you telling me that I should always be true to myself, even though back then I didn’t know who I was exactly. So over the years I stood up to my parents and started dressing more masculine. I absolutely love it, and I feel so comfortable. It was hell but it was so worth it. So now everyone knows me as Mateo. The name stands for “Gift of God”, I still wanted it to be somewhat religious because of my middle name. Now I wear ties lmao. But it was all thanks to you, for encouraging me from the beginning. I wish I had followed your advice sooner. And I came out to Alma as well, surprisingly she was cool with it. Thinking about you being in my life makes me realize how big of an impact a person can leave on you. You made an enormous impact on my life, and I’m still on the road to figuring shit out. But you always motivated me, even with your absence. You changed my life. I just wanted to let you know that. Whether we get back into each other’s life or not, I’m always going to be grateful for you. And I’m always going to love you. Nothing will ever change that. 

P.s. I tried pan con queso, it’s bomb a’f 

[teaganpls]

sms: teagan taylor

@augustuswill.

Augustus: We might grew up on the different side of the world but we're still both just normal person like any other person. And yes, it was quite an experience having to be independent on a very young age. Haha I would definitely convince you to finish school! First time to hear that you want more polite people rather than rude. Augustus: That stung me a bit, I find myself normal and boring! So I guess you wouldn't want to hang around with me. :)) I hope I get to meet Tierney too! Augustus: Nice! Maybe you could make her drunk and let her dance weirdly on the middle of the street, video and post it online! A promo stunt before your new music release party! That was a joke, by the way! Don't make her drink! Augustus: Can you remind me of what's the asshole name is? I think I got to use calling him as a dick, asshole, that I forgot his real name. So you get my point why I'm furious of that guy huh? I'll tell her that. Alex had been so nice to everyone and doesn't deserve to be treated like that by your friend. Augustus: I can handle another more. Work and taking care of my sister is not so handful anymore. So, try me. Augustus: I am. I will sure will! Should I bring some coffee over?

Teag: That is definitely true. People are people, and we should all respect each other regardless of background. I get that. My siblings and I had to be independent at a young age, too. It was different circumstances. My mother was... kind of a trainwreck honestly, and didn't look after us (to say the least. It was a pretty abusive situation) so we had to learn really young to provide for ourselves. I would like to once I figure out what to go for. I'm a musician and I love making music with my whole heart and soul, but I just can't see myself going on a tour again and being away from my daughter for so long when most headlining tours could last anywhere from 6 months to a year. I respect people who are full-time musicians and have families because that balance is just crazy. Not to mention all the temptations on the road. It just isn't a good lifestyle for me. Which is basically my long ass way of saying I'm gonna need a new career which is why I opened the shop with my sister. I'd probably go back for Business that way if Tierney ever wants to tour (she has a business degree), she can knowing that I have everything under control.

Teag: Wait... people seriously want others to be rude to them? Wtf.

Teag: Aw I'm sorry!! Please don't take offense, my new buddy. If it makes ya feel any better, I need more normal and boring in my life. If you're close with Presley then I'd definitely say you're bound to meet Tierney soon. I'm biased bc she's my twin buuuuut she's pretty amazing

Teag: Hahaha don't worry, I won't. I actually just finished rehab myself 2 days ago... so drinking wouldn't be good for either one of us 🙊

Teag: Before I tell you, I just want to be clear right from the beginning that I don't want to be in the middle of any drama. I have enough going on in my life at the moment and as much as I understand why you're upset because cheating is a huge no-no, I don't want to be in the middle. I hope you can understand and respect that. No offense at all meant I just needed to say that sooner rather than later.

Teag: Wow, we're gonna be good friends already if you're offering to bring me coffee AND listen to my problems. it's a super long story. 

Teag: TL;DR i’m a “bitch” and outcasted too. so if alexis wants someone who can sort of understand, please send her my way. i need all the friends i can get lmao.

Teag: as i mentioned above, my mother (or as i like to call her, she who must not be named) was abusive. she had a lot of boyfriends throughout my childhood and they were all abusive as well. physically, sexually, verbally, mentally... you name it, it was there. she who must not be named was also heavily addicted to drugs and alcohol. So I grew up seeing that behavior... and started drinking when I was really young. I did drugs for the first time when I was 14. I loved it immediately and it was the perfect way to escape all of the torment that was going on at my house. at the same time, i had a childhood best friend dj who i met when i was five. he knew all about the abuse and his family opened their doors to me and my siblings. his parents were like the parents i always wanted but never had. i mention this because it comes up later dsjndjnfsdhbfdshsdj this is seriously such a long story I’m so sorry in advance

Teag: so i turn 18 and as i mentioned, i didn’t go to college. frankly i always thought i’d be dead in a ditch so i never like... planned a future for myself? the only thing i was good at was music so i followed that to los angeles. to make a long story as short as possible --- went to rehab, fell back into drugs, found out i was pregnant and went to rehab again to get sober for real. i was doing really really well up until about a month ago. everything in my life went to absolute hell all at once. i found out who my daughter’s father was and it was one of the friends from la, and at first things were perfect and i was really relieved (still am, don’t get me wrong) that her father was a close friend instead of a random hookup while high. but things with dj got really rocky out of jealousy it was a whole mess and as things were getting rocky with him, danny was really there for me buying me flowers and supporting me and it was just. a confusing mess. so dj breaks up with me after him and danny fight on the booze cruise (sure alex told ya all about that booze cruise) and then i found out from my best friend that she also had a confusing thing with baby daddy and there was another girl involved too.

Teag: god i swear i’m trying to make this as short as possible, i’m sorry, just so much fucking shit has happened and i haven’t talked about my side much bc i don’t want people in the middle. so i got into a huge fight with danny because i felt really blindsided and hurt by all of this, where i said shit i shouldn’t have said. i told him he needed to grow up and be the father our daughter deserved. i regret that, i do, i know he loves blake and would do anything for her but in the heat of the moment, i was just so hurt. he said some pretty nasty shit back that isn’t worth repeating bc i’m trying to not dwell on them. and then i found out that dj’s mom, lisa, who was like the mom i never had died and i just.... fucking lost it. i had a complete break down and relapsed. THIS LONG ASS STORY IS ALMOST OVER FUCK. so i did 2 weeks of inpatient rehab back home in dallas and then came back home and finished my rehab as outpatient to be back with blake, my daughter. the last thing danny said to me was never to contact him again so... naturally, i didn’t contact him when i came back because i was focusing on staying sober. god okay i feel so bad about how long this is getting, the short of it is danny and i have been fighting pretty much ever since i got home, even when i avoided him specifically to avoid fighting. i only see blake on weekends, everything is tense with my former friends bc of things that should’ve stayed between danny and i but didn’t, on top of all this i’m trying desperately to stay sober and still grieving. okay, that’s it.