#not seen as someone representing how everyone from somewhere acts

[victoriademedici]

King Harald is one of my favorite monarchs and he’s spoken about acceptance for diversity in Norway so many times so this surprised me.

King Harald & Queen Sonja did not just publicly say that Americans don't understand a thing when it comes to monarchy & publicly acknowledged that Shaman Durek has given them a headache on multiple occasions - I KNEW I LOVED THEM FOR A REASON

[skemford]

Wanted to collect some thoughts i have about the ink demon as a character and what made him the way he is

So here we go, another personal character analysis

1. Backstory/Background

As we all know, the ink demon is an attempt to create real life toon Bendy with using the ink machine

He's the only one known instance of cartoon character being recreated without someone dying (for example, Buddy Boris) or without them being based on real people (Tom and Allison)

GENT and Joey saw him as a failed experiment and they've tried to find reasons for "why" it didn't worked the way it was intended.

It's really important for story's development and becomes one of main forces that move it:

Joey believes that you need human souls to create a perfect cartoon character (explored through batim)

GENT tries to figure out if there's something wrong with the ink machine and decides to start experiments on humans later (batdr/fade to black)

1.1 Isolation

The ink demon was closed off and isolated from everyone while they've tried to find the ways to "fix" him

Joey said that he started this project to create "alive attractions" and BendyLand in batim's cycle has a spot where Bendy (presumably) could've been placed if he was perfect:

which, obviously, didn't happen

It's worth to note that this place can be found at the haunted house which is a part of "Dark Land", location that was later confirmed to be toon Bendy's personalized attraction.

We don't know for how long the ink demon was closed at JDS but it was long enough for some employees like Norman to notice that something is off:

"...Every night, just as I'm pickin' up my coat, there's a deep groan rising up from the floor. One of these days, I'm gonna get my light and see what's causin' all the fuss below me" (Norman Polk, Boris and the dark survival tape)

After JDS went down, he was transported to New Jersey and was closed off again.

Similar thing repeats one more time in 1953 when Joey has started to work on "Joey Drew Studios show" at Kismet Productions.

We have no idea when exactly Joey has decided to 'permanently' put him in the cycle,we can only speculate that it happened somewhere in 1950s.

2. Thomas Connor/GENT

Thomas is GENT representative at JDS and he was directly involved in the ink machine's creation:

"One weird note, the first figure ever created was a failed attempt in the likeness of the character called Bendy" (Thomas Connor, batim ch 5)

In batim ch 5 Joey claims that he saw the ink demon at Tom's office which confirms that he was completely harmless at the beginning:

"...Whatever that grinning thing was I saw wandering around your office,you better keep it locked up tight!" (Joey Drew, chapter 5 tape)

He doesn't say anything about him being violent or damaging their property.

It looks like the way he acts is a consequence of abuse and isolation from GENT and Joey; it's not the reason he was isolated in the first place.

3. Joey Drew

Joey saw toon Bendy as his child that he loved and cherished but the ink demon is seen as "a weird abomination" and "a grinning thing" by him:

("... I'm paying for living attractions,not weird abominations!...")

Outside of wanting to make profit without spending more money than he intended to,Joey is also known to be obsessed with toon Bendy and his design; he sees the little devil as the most perfect work of art the world has ever saw:

"Picture me standing side by side with my greatest creation, Bendy." (TIOL, page 11)

He also notes in TIOL that toon Bendy's creation process was supposed to perfect and he nitpicks every minor detail as important

Joey calls himself a perfectionist on multiple occasions which further explains his disgust toward the ink demon, someone who came out "imperfection".

"...They were swell, I’m sure you’ve seen them and enjoyed them yourself, but they weren’t what I, ever the perfectionist, wanted them to be. Something was off." (TIOL, page 159)

"It wasn’t Bendy. But it was a cartoon character. It triggered something inside me. That deep-down place that held the solution to Bendy’s appearance had finally stirred" (TIOL,page 153)

Shawn Flynn mentions that Joey reacts deeply negatively to bendy dolls having crooked smiles:

"...So what if i went and painted some of these bendy dolls with a crooked smile? That's sure no reason for Mr. Drew to be flyin' off the handle at me..." (Shawn Flynn, batim ch 3 tape)

In Joey's eyes, Bendy was supposed to be 1 in 1 recreation for him to be perfect and lovable; the idea of him coming out off-model was something deeply unacceptable.

He separates bendy from the ink demon and calls the ink demon monster or beast:

“I think you woke the beast.” (FtB, page 247)

We know the ink demon's perspective on Joey only through his minor interaction with Memory Joey in Batdr's ending. After he decided to speak about his love toward Audrey with ignoring second person in the room, the ink demon calls him a "poor excuse of Joey Drew" and crushes to death.

He was never loved after being recreated by the ink machine and this scene can be easily interpreted as jealousy.

Even with Audrey and the ink demon temporarily sharing one body, she was still separated and put above him.

4. Henry Stein

Henry is Bendy's second creator (or "real" one, depends on how you interpret this) but he wasn't present in the ink demon's life when he was 'born' from the ink machine.

Does the ink demon know that Cycle! Henry is not the real deal? Likely he does, it was stated a couple of times that he can differentiate humans from ink creatures (and he senses ink creatures through the ink)

Latest source of this information is FtB, where he easily knew where Archie Carter, person who was experimented on, was located.

“He’s connected to me. I can’t hide and I’m leading him right for you both..." (page 215, FTB)

We don't know the ink demon's perspective on Henry (sadly,they don't have interactions in BATDR) but it can be said that he likely has complicated feelings about him.

The tombstone picnic cartoon (1929) features toon Bendy looking at someone and smiling after seeing them:

TimetheHobo (previous cartoon animator) has confirmed that this shadow was intended to be Henry:

It explains why this is the only one cartoon with a lost ending; after Henry has left the studio, Joey didn't wanted him to be associated with Bendy in any way. But especially when Bendy was happy to see Henry in cartoon's context.

Possibly the ink demon remembers Henry from cartoons? It may be the case but it's based on thin speculations; i won't claim that it's confirmed to be canon. Only time will tell.

5. The keepers/Wilson Arch

After Wilson has decided to enter the cycle and "tame" it, the ink demon becomes one of things he wants to deal with first and foremost.

The keepers, being Wilson's servants of sort, were tasked with capturing him. We don't get context on how exactly they've succeeded but we do have a couple of tapes from them:

" ...Be advised that sedation will not last long. Termination must commence immediately upon reception. Wilson will expect a detailed report of the creature's demise." (Keeper Log 13, Batdr)

Some time passes and they figure out that it's impossible to destroy him, so plans start to change. They decide to include tortures and surgical invasions to try to make him weaker:

"Keepers have administered quarter hourly sessions of physical tortures and surgical invasions to wear down his powers. All of these efforts have been ultimately unsuccessful. A new method of control must be devised" (Keeper Log 26, Batdr)

Which, obviously, fails to work. On their 44th experiments they were able to press him into toon bendy form, which has worked as a 'jail' of sorts:

"...He is smaller in size and harmless in this more timid state. His powers are also greatly reduced." (Keepers Log 44, batdr)

They also state that it was painful for him and under this pressure he has started to express emotions,like crying:

"...Using lengths of steel wire to cut into the side of his body, he now registers emotional responses. There were tears of ink documented. Screams of pain..." (Keepers Log 44, batdr)

Through the game the lost ones did wanted to believe that the ink demon has "died" but they knew that it's not true:

" He said that the ink demon is dead but i saw him. I really did"

Putting the ink demon into a smaller form and placing signal towers around is not equal to destroying him

It doesn't seems like this effect was permanent anyway; Betty says that the ink demon was at the North Wing some time ago, which seems to happen way before Audrey has entered the cycle

Wilson's plan didn't worked from the beginning, he simply delayed the issue that he had.

6. Audrey Drew

The ink demon knows who Audrey is (even before she or the player does), he says himself that ink speaks to him and has revealed everything that it knows about her:

"...The ink speaks to me. It whispers your secrets..."

"... This realm.. is mine. You were born from it... you belong to it."

They have strong narrative parallels through the whole game:

The ink demon was abandoned and forgotten. He's a cartoon mascot who's supposed to be profitable and if he isn't, he doesn't serve his purpose.

Audrey in contradictory was loved. She's human passing and wasn't put under the pressure that the ink demon has experienced.

6.1 The ink demon projects his feelings onto Audrey

The ink demon does understand that their situation is a bit similar, at the end of BATDR he projects on Audrey on purpose. She's the only one person who can (at least try to) understand the way he feels.

Based on that, they do have a lot of things in common:

One creator;

Audrey's relation to Joey is obvious, he created a daughter for himself and refers to her this way.

With the Ink demon it's Joey's presence after his creation, comments and intentions which makes them 'related'. The ink demon=Bendy and Joey saw toon Bendy as his child/"firstborn".

Failed daughters/Audreys were replaced until the perfect one, in similar way with the ink demon being replaced because he's imperfect;

Even if girls demises is not Joey's fault (we genuinely lack context), it's still interesting that it has happened.

It does makes Audrey's existence "a terrible lie" (as the ink demon says) because she doesn't know that it has happened

Their situation may make them feel lonely among others;

One of them is a tall demon among dead employees/more cartoonish characters and another is an artificial human among regular humans. Again, the ink demon's attempts to project on her make a lot of sense.

Other residents of the cycle were manipulated by higher-ups (or created to only exists in the cycle) but before that,they had normal life (or fake memories about it)

With these two, it never was "normal" for either of them, even if their experiences are highly different.

6.2 He's trying to be honest

I've brought it up in my post with Joey analysis but I'll mention it here too:

The ink demon doesn't lie

Him being an antagonist doesn't mean that he has to lie or that you can't trust him. Antagonists aren't always plain evil characters,they can be complex! In contradictory to Joey who's a huge liar,his creation isn't one.

Nothing he says is misleading, neither he intends it to be. He either tells truth directly or projects onto people.

At the moment Audrey is the only one character he has a couple of completely honest moments with:

"He's lying, Audrey..." (about Wilson)

"They promised us peace,but they bring us only more pain" (about Wilson and the Keepers)

He drops the act of sounding threating here and says it as calm as he can. He stops it only after she says "be quiet".

He was shut down when he wanted to do a genuinely good thing in a long time; after that,he won't say anything similar anymore.

7. DR Beast Bendy

The ink demon doesn't need someone's soul (whatever this concept means in canon) to transform, which is backed up by Batim; him wanting to become one with Audrey is not related to this.

The ink demon wants to feel perfect and loved, using Audrey for this (who had almost everything he didn't) is the closest thing to perfection he can do.

He became one with "Joey's greatest creation" only to feel perfect. He wants to "give her purpose" only because he feels like he doesn't has one.

It goes from a really sentimental place which has made this scene look cheesy or weird to some people; but we're talking about 'unlovable' character who was completely abandoned by people

I also doubt that he couldn't fight for control in his own body, resetting the cycle is something that he has accepted at the end of the day (even without wanting it to happen)

8. DR Toon Bendy

Personally I interpret him as one person, there's nothing in canon right now that says that it's Jekyll & Hyde situation.

He's still the ink demon but smaller and weaker,as thekeepers say in their logs. This form is designated as "toon bendy" but it was never said that they were able to create another personality.

After signal towers forced the ink demon into the 'toon' form,he simply walks away from Audrey. He knows that she wouldn't want to see him after that.

If they indeed were different personalities, toon Bendy would have no reason to do so; we know from Buddy Boris that two personalities in one body have different values and don't blame themselves for something another one did.

I don't think that his behaviour was "manipulative" or "pretendious",it feels as it misses the point of his character.

He acts the way people would expect toon Bendy to act, the way Joey expected him to be. He has the looks for it and he can get positive attention he never had before.

People loved Bendy in cartoons. Audrey was happy to see Bendy and wanted to spend time with him/protect him.

I see this as him playing the role that he could never fullfil before. As I've mentioned earlier, even when looking as himself he still has small moments of honesty/vulnerability.

9. The cycle

(based on personal speculations from BATDR)

"...Here, you'll find the meaning in your pain.

This voice line is one of my favourites, i also can see it as him projecting. Possibly he has tried to find the meaning for himself or for why everything has went the way it is.

The cycle is the only one thing that belongs to him, he takes control over it and has no one who'd command him (especially after Joey's death)

He's the most important entity in it and everyone are either scared or worship him.

I can see the cycle as something that also gives him sense of stability/"privileges" which would explain why he was against resetting it even after Wilson's influence.

Outside of this,he had no idea what Audrey would do to him after she'll leave the cycle; she doesn't communicate anything and he was left in the dark.

10. "The end"

"...You see, there's only one thing Bendy has never known: He was there for his beginning, but he's never seen... The End." (Joey Drew, batim ch 5)

I always liked that "the end" reel is his only one weakness. It makes perfect sense because Bendy's a cartoon character and JDS has closed without release of any "goodbye" episode.

But it also makes a lot of sense for ink demon's origins. He saw his beginning but he never got a happy ending.

Every loop ends with the ink demon looking at Henry's face and reaching to him before the reset; it continues in BATDR in similar way.

I've mentioned "The tombstone picnic" (1929) cartoon earlier and it feels like batim's ending was written by Joey this way on purpose.

One huge difference is that in cartoon Bendy was happy to see Henry but in the loop it's written off as a negative thing.

Henry is the one who brought "the end" to Bendy

Studio has started it's slow downfall right after Henry has left. He was way more important than Joey wanted to admit.

Joey has blamed Henry for almost everything,he likely blamed him for this too,so it makes sense why the cycle ends this way; it reflects what has happened in reality

TL;DR:

The ink demon didn't came out the way that was expected but he's still (obviously) is Bendy. After Joey has figured out that it's impossible to 'fix' him, he closes him in the cycle and puts into the role of the main antagonist.

The ink demon embraced this role and doesn't see himself more than a mistake and a monster (which he projects onto Audrey in DR)

~~~~~~~~

I'm always open to discussion if you've noticed that i missed or misinterpret something!

Thank you if you've read it to the end! I really appreciate that you've decided to spare some time for me

Also TY @cr33ping-cr34tv3r for inspiring me to finish it! :)

[kalinara]

So, I saw someone else's post pointing out the weird inconsistency with the way the Uncanny X-Team and the regular X-Team interact. How it starts out fairly pleasant but then, kind of out of the blue, the Uncanny team starts acting really hostile toward Scott and his team.

(Including a really nasty comment from Logan, and it's like, dude, weren't you fucking on the Moon, not that long ago?)

Meanwhile, on Scott's end of things, he's basically being polite, civil, and trying to adjust his plans to accommodate them.

I don't disagree with that post at all, but I didn't want to hijack it with my own thoughts, so this is my little bit of meta.

I admit, I've not caught up on a lot of the Krakoa stuff yet, but I definitely agree that this is inconsistent with the dynamics that I saw in those issues.

But it is definitely consistent with everything BEFORE Krakoa. And bizarrely, that makes me a bit optimistic. I remember, a long time ago, writing this rant about how consistently inconsistent the in universe treatment of Scott Summers was prior to his death. How everyone, under the pen of multiple authors, in multiple lines, seemed to fairly consistently believe the worst of him when his behavior would be completely opposite to their expectation.

I said then that it really did seem like it's building somewhere. And I'm cautiously thinking that it might still be. Rosenberg's X-Men, which I enjoyed very much despite its general pre-Krakoa bleakness, started out with Scott and Logan in a surprisingly okay place but things seemed to fall apart pretty dramatically and for not a lot of reason.

And honestly, I still can't quite get over Jono basically telling Scott that he hated him while he died. That was intense and singularly horrible.

But then everyone reunited and we pretty much got Krakoa right after that, and everything was different and good and bad and fucked up in all sorts of brand new ways. And I figured, okay, I was wrong, it really wasn't going anywhere. It was just weirdness that, if it ever had meant something, doesn't apply now.

But we're back to basics. We're back to the old patterns. We're back to Wolverine and whatever team represents the school and the "Xavier style" of mutant ideology against Scott's black ops "Magneto style" aggressive protection. And again, we have a Scott who doesn't seem to buy into that conflict while everyone around him does.

I had a theory briefly that the sheer irrational reaction of everyone around him was because Scott, as the Phoenix, right after killing Xavier, somehow mind-whammied the world to feel exactly what he did: a deep love and idealization for Charles Xavier that, while occasionally disappointed, never truly faltered, and a deep and complete loathing of one Scott Summers.

I still think that theory works, and might well explain why no one seems to remember that they were pretty fucking mad at Xavier at the end of the Krakoa stuff (with Logan actually trying to kill him.)

The other theory I have is simpler though, which is that Scott ends up being the focal point for all of his fellows grief, despair, and helpless, pointless anger because they think he can handle it.

If Charles Xavier is the spirit of the Dream, then Scott Summers is the embodiment of the X-Men. (I think there's even a point in one of the Captain Krakoa issues where we're told that "I am the X-Men" was basically his campaign speech at one of the Hellfire Galas). And as such, he's always going to be there: strong, implacable, steadfast and invulnerable to whatever they send his way.

And that leads to something really interesting, because as we've seen in X-Men #3. He's NOT. And that's not really surprising, it's not like Scott has ever been a paragon of good mental health. But the panic attack is new. And assuming that it's actually a panic attack and not some indicator of possession or powers going out of control or something, then it's a vulnerability that he might not be able to hide.

And that makes me think we might, FINALLY, see an actual resolution to this decades long thread.

And if not, well, if I didn't enjoy watching Scott Summers suffer, I wouldn't be reading X-Men comics.

(Also, Jean's actually alive now. She's in space at the moment, IIRC, but I really don't think she's going to tolerate this bullshit for too much longer, if and when she finally notices it happening.)

[hoppipolla]

The basement scenes in Beyond Evil

Some quotes are from the Beyond Evil scriptbook translated by @/yeoyuo on Twitter. (link to the scriptbook in the comment section) The setting in Beyond Evil is always both significant and relevant: the reed field, Lee Dong Shik’s basement, Jae Yi’s butcher shop, the archives room, the Japanese restaurant, etc. These different places are highly symbolic — some more than others — and are essential to understand everything that is at stakes. 

With this post, I want to give you my analysis of Lee Dong Shik’s basement. 

The basement scenes are key moments of the drama for they mark crucial shifts, both in HJW and LDS’ relationship and in the plot itself. 

The native title of Beyond Evil translates to Monster in Korean (괴물). The very definition of ‘monster’ is quite complex and even its etymology hints at the many roles monsters can play in our society (and in History more generally). 

'Monster' probably derives from the Latin, monstrare, meaning 'to demonstrate', and monere, 'to warn'. Monsters, in essence, are demonstrative. They reveal, portend, show and make evident, often uncomfortably so. (source in comments) This last sentence encapsulates perfectly how Lee Dong Shik is seen by others; Han Joo Won acts as a reminder of such perception when he first arrives in Manyang and is convinced that LDS is the killer they’re looking for. Indeed, Lee Dong Shik is presented as someone demonstrative, whose agonising pain and temper earned him the nickname ‘nut job’ and the stares and distrust of most people in Manyang.  

Lee Dong Shik is said to be a monster because he was the prime suspect of a murder he did not commit. Because he became a person so visibly drenched in his own pain that it became difficult to look him in the eye. He then depicts himself as a monster — by interfering in Min Jung’s case — to make sure HJW will play his game and take the bait, because he desperately needs HJW to “bite him”. Because he needs his help to catch Jin Mook and to find the missing bodies. Because if everyone keeps being blinded by LDS’ seemingly craziness, then Han Joo Won needs to be the one to see beyond. He needs to see the bigger picture. 

The basement scenes play a huge part in making HJW see the bigger picture because so many elements of truth are revealed in LDS’ basement which makes me think… what if LDS’ basement was a means to rewrite Plato’s cave but in a more paradoxical way? Let me explain. 

The basement is a place of confrontation and its dimly lit interior makes it resemble a cave, somewhere underground with no real light. HJW and LDS discuss and make hypotheses in this place, so often that LDS even jokingly suggests that HJW should pay rent at this point since he’s always in LDS’ basement. 

What makes it a paradoxical rewriting of Plato’s cave is the fact that the truth is, in fact, found in LDS’ basement, on multiple occasions. However, in Plato’s cave, the cave is the place the philosopher needs to escape from to confront the real light, the sun’s light — i.e the truth — to eventually access the world of Ideas.

In Plato’s myth, the cave is a place in which chained prisoners stare at inverted shadows projected by the fire burning inside the cave and they take these shadows for reality. The fire in the cave represents the notion of culture which is to say, constructed beliefs (this is overly simplified but it’s just to give you an understanding). The people in Manyang are like those prisoners in the cave who are convinced that those shadows are what the real world looks like: they are convinced Lee Dong Shik is the cause of Manyang’s tragedy and doom despite the fact that many cases that took place in Manyang were dropped. The Manyang people believe in the evidence that is the guitar pick as fervently as the prisoners believe the shadows are the only reality that exists. Despite it not being enough to indict Lee Dong Shik, it still made him look like the killer for twenty-one years, to them at least. 

Just like the philosopher who decided to climb up and face the burning sun to get to the Truth, Lee Dong Shik is the one who sacrificed himself and ruined his life so that the truth could be established.

To come back to what makes this rewriting paradoxical, here are some truths that were discovered in LDS’ basement:

The posters of the missing people + the files of both Yu Yeon’s and Ju Seon’s cases (before LDS put them back into the archives room) → These enable LDS to carry out his own investigation.  

Min Jung’s fingers → LDS brings them to his basement before figuring out what to do with them. 

Lee Geum Hwa → LDS figures out the name of the victim of HJW’s sting operation during one of his confrontations with him which took place in his basement.

Yu Yeon’s body → LDS finds the body of his sister inside a wall in his basement.

Jung Je’s memories → Again, Jung Je’s memories come back to him during a heated conversation with LDS in his basement. 

However, LDS has to go up into the light, he has to leave the basement and his house to make the truth known. It is within hell that the truth emerges, but it is under the sun’s light that the truth needs to be revealed.

Thus it’s interesting to note that the big reveal — i.e the rain scene in ep 15 when HJW makes LDS listen to his audio recording — doesn’t take place in LDS’ basement but in his yard (outside and not underground). This emphasises the idea that, just like the bodies in Manyang, the truth needs to be dug out. 

Just like Lee Dong Shik and the philosopher before him, HJW became the one willing to sacrifice himself so that everyone could know who the real killer was: “I’ll be a monster, take Han Ki Hwan with me, and dive into hell when he’s reached the peak.”.  

[ca-suffit]

There is a debate on Twitter, about this photo of Santiago circulating with Eglee on his lap and someone asked artists to draw Loustat in this position.

What was my surprise to discover that 99% of the artists would represent Lestat sitting on Louis'... obviously each artist represents their own visions as they want but I don't know why in my head it seems so incorrect.

I know it's a bit cliché and I have to deconstruct myself from binary thinking but for me Louis is more female coded than Lestat, I have always seen Lestat as a representation of the patriarchy maybe I am wrong maybe I am too binary in my representation of the couple,Lestat = patriarch, Louis = mother and Claudia = the child in identity crisis?

the show itself has directly said / shown that lestat is the patriach, louis is the "housewife" and claudia is "the mistake." it's always worth examining ur own perspective but in this case, it comes directly from canon. there's even a quote somewhere from anne rice about her writing louis from a woman's perspective bcuz louis *was* her at the time she wrote it. so it's even book canon.

seeing lestat on louis' lap feels incorrect bcuz it *is* incorrect. we have had these arguments forever bcuz there's a divide in the fandom of ppl who see what the show is saying and ppl who want to pretend it's not there. they'll usually use arguments to scare ppl to taking their side too, like ur being antiblack if u think louis is feminine (literally not a real thing at all) or something about homophobia idek.

but when ppl make lestat this over the top, sassy, white gay caricature to louis'....blackness, rly? it isn't doing shit except softening lestat's traits that don't need to be softened and overlooking *all* of how louis is a black, gay man himself. it paints lestat in a less harmful and more easily digestible light and leaves louis as a black man stereotype.

ppl have not seen a black, gay man like louis before. lestat is seen as the only "real" gay rep a lot bcuz his whiteness gives him the ability to be more open about things than louis gets. his personality also enjoys that more. he at times "fits" what ppl are used to when they think of "gay man." that's only one version tho. louis expresses so much of his own identity as a gay man all the time, ppl just don't know how to see it. he acts like his own mother so often and has more biting commentary than lestat ever says, but ppl overlook all that bcuz lestat is white and does things more theatrically.

louis wants to be soft and vulnerable and cared for to a degree, but again ppl aren't used to seeing this from a black man. he's also built smaller than lestat. they intentionally had sam bulk up whereas jacob did not to place more emphasis on this too. louis struggles with eating as well, something not necessarily *only* a feminine thing at all but still largely viewed like that by a lot of ppl, especially in the role of a wife.

the reason ppl are more willing to start saying how louis started to act at times in the loumand relationship is "his real self" or whatever is bcuz that *is* what ppl want to believe. that *is* the antiblack male stereotype. ppl think he's hiding this person rather than the fact it's a coping mechanism and survival technique. it's not like u could *never* write a black man like this without it always being antiblack. there's ways to do it without being harmful. what makes the fandom's reaction to louis like this so antiblack is the fact that we've been shown over and over that that *is not* the real louis and yet ppl insist it is. they'll have a thousand headcanon explanations of why everyone else masks for whatever reason, even to excuse outright abuse, but louis doing anything "aggressive" is just.....typical louis. lol ok.

so ya. it feels incorrect bcuz it *is* incorrect. bcuz this is all a dynamic that is backed up so far by fanon only, and fanon that is hugely influenced by antiblackness.

as another comment on the end of this too, I see a lot of "gnc" comments around lestat just for having long hair, but where does anyone ever say this for armand? u see the ways fandom just hands shit to white characters for no reason. "I am she, she is me" is also seen as some kind of gender thing bcuz it's too icky to process that it's a rly colonizer ass line for the white, french guy to be saying. ppl use sexuality and gender to soften lestat all the time and then call u homophobic when u say anything otherwise. it's the same technique used over and over again to avoid criticism, u just pick a different focus each time (misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, etc). it's usually a white person thing but not always. this fandom has a lot of fans of colors saying awful shit and relying on scaring white fans with their identities to make it hold more weight. like "don't make louis feminine" came a lot from a black fan (showmey0urfangs) but what it rly stemmed from was her personal discomfort with mpreg fics lol.

[arodabi]

okay, i’m finally getting around to writing this, and uhh ill say its for aro week too. this is written as an aro person directed at alloromantic people. when i refer to writing, i’m kind of using it as a general term for creative works. Here’s me throwing my hat in on the question:

Can you ship aromantic characters?

and my answer is,,,,, actually a question. Why do you want to ship aromantic characters? 

I want alloros to realize that for a lot of aros, we do not get to see ourselves represented often. I can actually count on like one hand how many popular canon aro characters there are, and on the whole, none of their identities are respected. people constantly try to weasel their way out of actually writing aro characters, or they just ignore or deny their identity outright. fandom spaces (hell creative spaces in general) are at best not welcoming to aros, and at worst actively hostile towards us. So when the first question brought up when a character gets canonically confirmed as aro is “okay cool but can i ship them???” or “that’s nice but how can i still write about my fave ship that involves them??” i want to fucking scream. its a slap to the face and it shows that people really do not give a shit about aros. you say stuff like that and all i hear is “my fictional ship is so much more important than representing your marginalized minority identity” so instead of me just sitting here and saying “yes you can totally ship aro characters, as long as you’re respectful!!!” i’m saying “can you stop and think why you want to shove an aro character into a romantic relationship at the first chance you get?? maybe you have some arophobia you haven’t worked on?? maybe since we live in an amatonormative world, you’re letting that influence your views??” because that question being the first thing out of your mouth when you see a character you like confirmed as aro? that’s already disrespectful towards aros in my book.

So back to my question, Why do you want to ship aromantic characters? is it because you can’t write characters without them being in romantic relationships? or because you think a character without a romantic relationship is boring? Because if so, that’s a bad reason and it sounds like amatonormativity is rotting your brain. 

Is it because you just really like a ship with the aro character? Because you can write two characters with a strong relationship without writing them as a couple. A strong friendship can hold just as much power as a romantic relationship.

Is it because fuck aros, i will write what I wanna write and I don't wanna write this character with their canon identity? because then you’re just an arophobic asshole that needs to work on your shitty opinions. aro representation is just as important as any other lgbtqia+ representation.

Now if you’re reading this and thinking “well i heard aros can be in queerplatonic relationships!” I want you to think for a second. Are you writing a qpr or are you writing a romantic relationship with the serial numbers filed off? Have you talked to aro people or read stuff actually written by us? because, yes, some qprs can look a lot like a romantic relationship from the outside, but that’s just it, you’re looking at it from the outside. qprs are more than just “romantic relationship with extra steps”, and i think it’s really telling how many times i see alloromantic people saying they’re depicting an aro character in a qpr, not a romantic relationship, but then they never ever make any effort to distinguish the qpr from any other romantic relationship they write or draw. It just feels like qprs are getting used by alloros as a gatcha any time an aro person objects to how they depict (or don’t depict) aromanticism. if you want to write a character in a qpr then go for it! but you need to actually do research, talk to aros, get multiple opinions and not just take the first opinion that agrees with you and run with it.

“But what about headcanoning a character as arospec?” now i will say before i go into this, i am aro, not arospec, so if an arospec person wants to come in and correct me at any part here im happy to listen. but my problem when alloros bring up arospec identities is a very similar problem to how qprs are often depicted. I remember when Peridot Stevenuniverse got confirmed aro (she did, do not argue this with me) people were jumping over themselves to assure everyone that “a character getting confirmed as aro just means they are any arospec identity” which,, uhh,, not true? i mean if an arospec person wants to see a canon aro character as, say, aroflux, i’ve got no problem, aro and arospec people can do what they want really. but, i do have a problem with all the alloro fans who were spreading this. because, do you really see the character as demiromantic? or are you using that identity to deflect criticism from erasing aro identities? are you actually trying to write a good depiction of a demiro person? or are you just writing normal ship stuff and slapping a “uwu ive never felt romantic attraction until i met you! and now i will act exactly like any alloromantic person!” at the beginning? being in fandom spaces, i do see the occasional fic actually depicting an aspec identity (i say aspec her because aro is so rare that most of these examples i’ve seen have been acespec identities rather than arospec) but like 99% of the time, that’s written by someone who actually shares the identity. before you use our terms and identities to cover your ass when you erase us, consider not fucking doing that. consider listening to all aros and getting our thoughts and input. 

And last here is “but what about romance positive aros?” now i think most of what i’ve said previously can be applied here. the only thing i wanna add is, i think its very interesting that almost every time i see non aros depict aros, they always write them as very into romance, very open to be in romantic relationships, and very quiet about their aro identity. despite the character in canon not showing any of these traits. romance positive aros are good and important, but not every aro is romance positive. there’s quite a few of us that are romance repulsed, and alloros only depicting aros as super romance positive no matter what is suspicious to say the least. if an aro character is shown to be open to participating in romantic activities in canon then of course write them that way. but if an aro character is shown to be uninterested in, or even actively against romantic activities then respect that too.

so, to wrap up my thoughts in this ramble: please ask yourself why you want to ship aro characters so bad, because if the only reason is that amatonormativity has brainwashed you into not being able to write, or draw, or do anything with a character without them being in a romantic relationship, then you uhhh need to work on that, that’s honestly a writing/creative flaw imo. if you like the relationship dynamic between an aro character and another character, consider making them friends. friendship is not less powerful than romantic relationships. nobody is ever too old for the power of friendship trope. If you’re erasing an aro character’s identity because fuck aros, then fuck off somewhere far away from me and work on your bullshit. qprs, arospec identities, and romance positive aros are all very real, very important parts of the aro community, but please talk to other aros about them and actually make an effort to understand how these things work, dont just assume. And also don’t use these things as a way to erase aro identities and cover your ass if get called out. its disrespectful towards all aros.

The most important thing to do before writing or creating work with aro characters is to talk to aros, and not just the aros that agree with you. look up what a qpr actually is, learn how aros experience their arospec identities, talk to aros with multiple outlooks on romance. and if you can’t bring yourself to reach out, at least read through our own writings, whether that’s fiction, or informational posts, fuck, look through our memes if u wanna. Just please actually make an effort.

So, Can you ship aro characters? its complicated. look at trends in your fandom, question why you want to, and do research. Be an aro ally, listen to us. That’s really the most important thing.

[nationalharryleague]

Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that. 

Genre: Famous Fake Dating! 

Word Count: 17.1k!

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A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries​) and Lu (@meetmymouth​) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N  looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.  

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.  

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.  

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.  

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! 

An extra for our babies can be found here!

[heliads]

Of Darkness

Based on this request: “darkling and reader AU where Alexander isn't a bad guy and reader is a shadow summoner like him? she's the deputy General and they're the 2 most powerful Grishas, feared and admired by most. Once someone says something bad about r during a meeting or sumn and everyones terrified of how they would react??” 

masterlist

When you open your eyes, it is completely dark. You’re not sure when you shut them in the first place, but it makes no difference. There is no light here, only shadow. There is no sight, only the inky blackness pressing in on you. You can feel it against your skin, pulsing against your veins. It is alive, this mass of shadow, and it engulfs you completely.

You turn your head from side to side, but can see no difference in the darkness. There is no horizon to be seen, no ground, although you can feel its rockiness underneath your feet. What world is there, outside of this endless night? What world is there at all? You could question this for eternity, except you sense something in the middle of this nothingness. Somewhere out there, you are not alone.

You let your eyes close again as you wait. There it is again- the sound of footsteps pounding against the hard earth. You wait one moment, two, and then fling yourself to the side just as the soldier barrels in front of you. He is as blind as you are, but somehow you can move with far more expertise. You reach out a hand and his face contorts; although you cannot see it, per se, you know from experience the way the skin will pull back against his bared teeth as he silently screams in agony before dropping to the ground. He is unconscious, this soldier, but if you wanted to, you could have killed him in a blink of your sightless eyes.

Another one comes at you, this time from behind. You don’t even turn around, but fling a hand behind you. A section of shadow pulls away from the darkness, wrapping itself around the soldier’s throat and choking him to the ground where he lies, twitching, until lapsing into unconsciousness himself. You repeat this process for another ten soldiers, until the full dozen are spent at your feet.

Then, and only then, do you allow the shadow to lift. You raise your hands to the sky, and the darkness follows your movements, drifting up and allowing itself to disperse. Rays of sunlight allow themselves in once more, like first-time guests letting themselves into a house they’ve only heard of before. It is the middle of the day, but you would not have been able to tell that a few minutes ago. You stand there for a moment, almost trapped in a reverie as the light touches you once more. For once, there is no shadow left except the memory of it on your hands and around your throat.

The sound of clapping erupts from around you, and you turn to see a group of olive-drabbed military commanders looking on through barely suppressed awe. They’re doing their best to pretend that Grisha tricks don’t affect them, but they cannot help the slight lock of their joints as they remember what they just saw. One of them removes his cap from his head, wiping sweat from his forehead before placing it back upon his stringy locks.

“Well, I’m proud to say that you represent Ravka. I can think of no one better to act as deputy general for our Second Army.” 

You incline your head, smiling. “You honor me, Commander.” 

He chuckles, waving away your comment. “You know it’s true, L/N. Well, no one better than General Kirigan, of course.”

The man in question turns when he hears his name called, donning the indulgent smile he only wears when he has to deal with otkazat’sya fools who have the gall to control the resources allocated to the Grisha troops. “I would prefer to speak of our Deputy General’s skill, sir. The demonstration was to your liking, then?”

He nods, cheeks red from the wind and the show you’ve just put on of taking down his men. “Oh, yes, yes. Good to know that the Little Palace teachings are going in the right direction.” 

That’s what this was about, after all. Every few months, someone raises a question about just what is going on with the Grisha, whether or not they’re truly as powerful as rumor makes them out to be. That’s when you have to stage these demonstrations, to show that one Grisha soldier is worth a thousand First Army fighters.

Usually, they involve talented Corporalki or Etherealki, but today, the Ravkan nobles wanted proof that their Shadow Summoners were still at their beck and call, so you were asked to present your skills instead. It’s a request framed as an honor, but in reality, you know full well that it’s an insult. No First Army Deputy General would be asked to put on a sharpshooting show to prove that they’re worth the currency that goes into their division, so why should you be asked to do this?

Still, you can’t afford to alienate the men keeping your Second Army in a favorable position, so you just force smiles and shake hands until they’re gone. Then, and only then, do you turn back to Aleksander, who looks just about as pleased as you feel to be here. He extends an arm to you, and you go to him, allowing him to wrap you about him as if you were another fold in his dark kefta.

He sighs, lips pressed against the crown of your hair. “I apologize for what happened today. I do not approve of them using you as a party trick to realize that Grisha are worth something.” 

You laugh quietly. “It’s fine. We do what we must, right?” 

You don’t have to look up to know that Aleksander’s face has soured; you’ve spent enough time by his side to replicate any expression of his in your mind.

“We are more than this, Y/N. Someday, we won’t have to politick or charm First Army hangers-on. You are the Deputy General, love. They need to respect your title.” 

You tilt your head up so you can look at him, seeing your face reflected in the hickory shadows of his eyes. “They do. Why else would they come to us when they wanted proof that Grisha are worthy soldiers?”

His mouth flattens into a thin, unimpressed line. “Because they wanted a good show, and they knew that we were in no position to deny them.” 

You give him a look, all raised eyebrows and no room for contrariness. “Because they don’t fear anyone the way that they fear us. You saw them, didn’t you? Even before we first started using our gifts, they were trembling at the knees. They will go back to their camps and spread word about the dread Shadow Summoners, and we will be fine. Let it go, Aleksander. We are not the ones who should feel anything less than confidence.”

He smiles at that, pulling you even closer than before. “With you, that’s impossible.” 

You laugh, and Aleksander tilts his head towards you as if to capture the sound in his memory forever. The two of you start the walk back from the training fields to the Little Palace, stepping over stalks of grass burned a dark black from the sheer force of your shadows. As you draw closer to the usual assortments of Grisha training around the grounds, Aleksander lets you go, although not without a fair amount of reluctance. The two of you do have a reputation to uphold, after all, and it does not entail something so commonplace as kindness.

As you pass small gatherings of blue-cloaked Tidemakers practicing at the lake or squadrons of Heartrenders running through the motions of how to best snap someone’s neck from across an encampment, all Grisha slowly turn to face the two of you. It’s like watching a moth continually drawn to a bright spark of flame, the way that no matter where you go, there are always people watching. Their eyes fasten upon the silhouette of your identical black kefta, the pace of your boots against the ground, the cut of your face as you tread through the grounds that belong to the two of you most of all. 

This is not an unfamiliar feeling. Ever since you were named Deputy General of the Second Army, or even since you were discovered to be a Shadow Summoner and taken to the Little Palace, you have attracted attention. This only magnified when you realized that you loved Aleksander as someone who would always understand you, who listened to your dreams of the future for Grisha and planned out how to make them into a reality. The two of you became a couple, and the world collectively sighed and began to plan the journey to its deathbed. With the two most powerful Grisha joined as one, there was no way that life would spin except in the direction that the two of you specified.

You didn’t understand it at first. You were still you, weren’t you? You were still the girl who walked outside with the boy she loved, who mastered summoning shadows until she could send fragments of herself to him across the Little Palace, scraps of darkness gaining wings and forms until they alighted upon the desk of a man in a black kefta. He would smile at it (you could sense it through the shadows), and mold it with his own powers before sending it back to you. 

Aleksander explained it later, the way that although he saw someone with a heart bright enough to rival the darkest shadows she could conjure up, the rest of the world saw a soldier who could kill them in a second’s hesitation. He saw that as something to love, and they did too, albeit in a different way. You represented a hero for the broken, and the two of you made fear an admirable thing.

Now, you’ve grown to accept your reputation as a part of yourself. You’ve shaped it like your shadows, taught it to kneel at your feet and tear out the throats of those who would dare insult you. It is a dangerous life, the one you lead, but no more dangerous than you and Aleksander.

Your paths take you across the Little Palace and back to the wood-paneled buildings. You walk in tandem to the War Room, where you’ll meet with a gathering of a dozen or so First and Second Army leaders before finally retiring for the afternoon. There are rumors of an attack on the northern front, and you’ll have to address it along with Aleksander to assuage any doubts of Ravka losing more than it gains.

Tensions are high when the meeting finally begins. Rumors of a Fjerdan attack have circulated the armies like biting frost, and although you assure the gathered commanders that no official reports have come in, no one likes being afraid. One of the First Army captains just stands there, surly, until his temper finally wins over his barest scraps of etiquette and he speaks his mind.

“How do you know that it’s true, anyway? You have your reports, what of them? We’re out there on the front, we know better.” 

You arch an eyebrow, a gesture that would have anyone else but this rash soldier fleeing for the hills. “You believe that your time closer to Fjerda would have you know better than someone trained in war since before you enlisted?”

This is his chance to back down, to admit his faults. However, the captain just stiffens his shoulders and keeps going. “Yes. I’ve seen the blond devils, and they’re gearing for war. I know what I saw, and I won’t be intimidated by some half-general who only performs party tricks for army commanders.”

There is complete silence in the war room as everyone gathered tries not to show surprise over the soldier’s obvious error. He swallows hard, finally realizing that he may have made a terrible mistake, but it’s too late now. You’re about to respond, and then Aleksander rises to his feet beside you, and you smile. Nothing you could come up with now could rival Aleksander’s wrath when someone dares to touch you.

His voice is cold, and seems to cut in against the soldier’s skin even without a blade. “You would dare to speak down to your superior officer? You would speak that way to the Deputy General of the Second Army? I would ask after your mind, soldier, but it is clearly lacking.” 

The other Grisha and commanders stare between Aleksander and the captain, evidently terrified of what they are about to witness. Here is one truth that everyone in Ravka knows, from the king down to the peasants: you do not insult Aleksander, to be certain, but come after you and he will kill you without hesitation.

Aleksander leans closer, and you watch as shadows start to gather at the corners of the room, rollicking and rolling towards the ill-fated captain. “There are mistakes that you can make, captain, and then there is the sin you have just committed. Y/N L/N has single handedly thwarted war about half a dozen times, each instance with more success than any other diplomatic effort by a First Army general. She is no party trick, she is far more powerful than dozens of your regiments. Hold your tongue, or the next time you dare to speak against her, I shall cut it out.”

The shadows surge forward at his last forward, rushing towards the captain until his eyes widen and all you can see is the shaking terror of a man’s last hope before death. Then the shadows settle again, Aleksander sits down, and all appears to go back to normal were it not for the obvious terror written on the face of everyone present. After that, the meeting goes quite smoothly, and ends promptly.

Aleksander goes to you again when the room is finally empty. You can’t help but laugh at the smirk of pride he wears like a signature. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you were enjoying his fear.” 

He shrugs casually, although he’s smiling. “I have no idea what you could be talking about. I was simply teaching him a lesson.”

You shake your head, grinning. “I’m sure. I appreciate the gesture, though.” 

His eyes harden. “It was no mere gesture, love. He should know better than to speak of you like that. They all should, and now no one will make that mistake again.” 

You just reach out and take his hand again, feeling that same rush of power that comes whenever you touch him. “No one will. Why would they, when they know what waits for them?”

Aleksander looks rather pleased with himself at this, and you just smile. “If I were them, I would be more afraid of you. I’ve heard you’re rather dangerous.” 

You laugh at that. “Only to those who cross me.” 

He smiles, pulling you closer to him. “And what about those who go to you freely?” 

You pretend to think. “They have nothing to fear at all. I would go to them.” 

And you do. You go to him again and again, in darkness and in light, in sickness and in health. There has only ever been him for you. Like calls to like, and you call to him. He answers every time.

requested by @acupnoodle​

grishaverse tag list: i will post this and go sleep for twelve hours, as should you @rogueanschel​, @thatfangirl42​, @deadreaderssociety​, @cameronsails​, @aleksanderwh0r3​, @story-scribbler​, @lxncelot​

[thisloveforyourmom]

like the whole driving conflict of MHA is whether the status quo truly protects the people it claims to protect, and how. the pro heroes are of the opinion that it does because they, with the ability to live functionally within it, can focus on casualties and the way that the average person who can mostly live within the system is protected by the acts of Heroes. the villains are of the opinion that it doesn't, because they've personally been failed by it as some of its most vulnerable members and have seen the way other people who cannot live within the system are then prevented by it from living free and full lives. (that's also why shigaraki's story is made stupid as fuck by the twist that AfO intentionally gave him a broken and destructive quirk. the whole point of him was not 'bad people ruined your life on purpose because they hated you,' it was 'you were born wrong in a society that punishes things people cannot control and had no choice but to ostracize yourself from it.' except someone COULD control it. apparently.) the correct answer is, of course, somewhere in between, and it would have made sense for izuku to find that balance having blended his own ideology with what he learned from shigaraki. and part of finding that balance is realizing that the nature itself of someone's power doesn't come from their abilities, but from who they target and why. horikoshi kind of tries to hint at this a bit with the whole idea that there should be more focus on non-quirk-using heroic acts and that people need to focus more on what they can do instead of what they can't, but izuku becoming quirkless and satisfied with that would have been a much better, more meaningful ending for that story.

all might, and the power he grants izuku, represents an old guard that no longer has a place in izuku's story. am i saying get rid of all might? no lmao. but EOD he is someone who became a hero by going from powerless to powerful, and using that power to be a savior to others. to him for most of his life, there were villains and victims, and they didn't overlap. to be honest, more of 1A should have not become heroes. i don't really have anyone specific in mind, but it really undercuts the idea that quirks and power and training aren't what's necessary to make a difference when everyone in the main story is a professional at using their power. why didn't fighting a literal war change any of them as people, even izuku? why didn't it seem to actually change uraraka's trajectory at all that one of her first feelings as a professional hero is that she feels responsible for an avoidable death of someone very similar to herself? why didn't the injuries people like jirou and bakugo sustained force any of them to pursue a different path? why didn't it seem to cause any issues with anyone's emotional state that aoyama was a traitor putting all of their lives in danger, and why was it never explored more that he did this because he, like izuku, suffered as someone without powers in a society that stratifies by inborn traits above all else?

the ending of mha doesn't suck because 'izuku lost his quirk!' or 'izuku was abandoned by 1a!' or any of that bullshit. the ending of mha sucks because it's the exact thing that would have happened if 0 of the major events of the story had occurred: class 1A graduates from UA and all become heroes together, with izuku using ingenuity and support items to get by without a quirk. it's not that predictability is the issue. it's that everyone on the protagonist's side got exactly what they wanted the very first time we ever met them, no more and no less. and if that's how it is, why the fuck did we bother reading and writing about this 9 year period of their lives?

you think the mha ending sucks because izuku lost all for one. EYE think the mha ending sucks because izuku got a mech suit that basically replaced his powers instead of committing to the way his life has changed. we are not the same

[the-starryknight]

Ten Things to Do Instead of Checking the Stats Page

I've seen this on a few folks' goals list, and I always find it easier to start something instead of stopping something -- replacing a habit I want to get rid of with a habit I want to start. So I've brainstormed a few ideas and I'm hoping you'll add some ideas too.

Most of these follow a certain theme: find self-validation through going meta on your work. That doesn't do it for everyone (it can make low feelings worse for some folks), so you're not wrong if you look at this list and don't find it helpful, but I hope someone somewhere does find value here.

For me, the point of this list is this: if I cannot change the stats or my desire to be noticed/be read/have my work appreciated, what else can I do to feel validated in my work?

Choose one thing you've made and write down three specific things you like about it. You don't have to like every part of it -- these can be big or small, craft-based or personal. Share it if you want to, or keep it for yourself.

Go and find a comment or bookmark that meant a lot to you when you received it. Sit with it. Why was it meaningful when you first saw it? You could also respond (or respond again) to the person who left it, no matter how old.

Write a self-rec. It doesn't matter if you've recced it before, because there's a good chance someone still needs to find this piece. Find a new way to talk about it -- share a quote, make a banner, describe it in only abstract terms.

Answer meta questions about your work. Whether you open your inbox with a list of questions or quiz yourself is up to you -- but do it! This will help you build your skill and even discovering things you want to improve can give you a boost, because it means you want to keep being a maker.

Write your biography. 250 words or less. Call yourself a writer/artist/poet/maker. Describe your genres, your style, your proudest projects like this bio is for the back of a book or to hang at the entry to your gallery show.

Send an ask to a maker you compare yourself to. Ask them what they do when they feel insecure or doubt their skill. Chances are that they're dealing with many of the same feelings you are because the stats are not the actual problem -- it's the insecurities we all carry, especially when sharing in the vulnerable act of creating.

Make something you've never made before. Try bookbinding. Banner making. Moodboards. Playlists. Gifs. Origami. The joy of learning a new skill can be very similar to getting validation on a skill you already have.

Rec someone else from the heart. I know this sounds counterintuitive, but two reasons here: 1) because it will help you think about what YOU like and 2) this is another way to build our fandom community, and community is here to catch you when you feel low.

So, number nine, ask for help. Tell people who love you when you're feeling low about your work. Share your doubts and ask for what you need, whether that is reassurance or brainstorming. Ask someone whose work you value to give you constructive feedback (and be clear with them what you need from this).

Don't beat yourself up for worrying about stats. This is a human thing to do, and we all cherish the feeling of a kudos or a comment email. The important thing is to come back to this: your stats can't represent the value of your work because your work is priceless. We are so lucky that you chose to share your work (yes, even that one). Thank you for putting yourself out there.

[onmywaytofanfic]

Promises Chapter 2: Findings

Chapter 2: Findings

Disclaimers: In this AU that is my Fanfiction Neji is not dead, neither is Fuu nor Torune.

Konoha 11 is a group of well-known shinobis from the village who fought furiously during the Third Ninja War, Uchiha Sasuke is not part of that group due to his well…rebellious phase. They were well-known and most importantly feared among the nations, the elite of Konoha was something to bear in mind, even Akamaru was considered part of it and Sai who entered team 7 quite late. This mission was something quite different from what they were used to, a hidden village that no one ever knew. The fact that the head of the clans have to come with them to the mission. That urgency that Sasuke claims to have…? Hizashi Hyuga went with Hinata and Neji as representatives, Ino brought Fuu and Sai with her, Shikamaru brought Kiba and Naruto, Chouza was with Choji and Sakura, Shibi with Shino and Torune, and Sasuke was heading the team together with, soon to be Hokage, Kakashi. Seventeen people was quite a big fellowship, everyone clearly saw how this could be turned absolutely wrong. Sasuke insisted that the head of clans should go with him as well as Team 8 who was good at rescue and tracking; yet Tsunade decided that each leader should have at least one person to escort them and protect them just in case. Therefore, one extra person was sent to protect them, Kakashi’s job was that of counsellor and political mediator with that strange village. The papers that they have found said that apparently during the First Ninja War some clans decided to protect their people by hiding them and seeking shelter somewhere far from the battle. 

The young Uchiha brought grim news, they were protecting that village but the cost that they were suffering was far from beyond. – So, this clan Kome, has settled themselves as some sort of Danyo. Apparently, during the first generation, as they mention it; Ashina Uzumaki went a little bit berserker when it came to the protection of the village. They said that it was Koroshi Kome’s fault, he tried to well rape her daughter. However, the village saw it as an act of aggression. As a result, and to try to set things up, they decided that those shinobi’s send by the now noble clans should bow protection and fidelity to the village, and to the Kome clan as repayment for that aggression. – Everyone was listening carefully – Yet… Ashina decided that a way to protect all of them was to set a barrier, actually two, quite astonishing may I say. Plus, she well… kind of… soils the earth.

-Soils the Earth? – Naruto enquired about it

-How can someone soil the Earth?

-It is like Lady Tsunade’s Byakugo, isn’t it? – Sasuke nodded to Shikamaru’s question.

- To assure that the promise was fulfilled the other five member of the clan swear protection against the Uzumaki’s. To do so they seal the Uzumaki members… with a really unique jutsu. Apparently, Ashina herself taught them how but never shared with her own descendance. Only, that the head of the clan can break it. Meaning…

-Us… - said Ino.

So, the purpose of the clan leader to head in that direction was to retrieve those seals from the Uzumaki member. – Excuse me for my intermission, but… If they decided to seal the Uzumaki’s there must be bigger reason than that. – mentioned Shibi.

-I have seen the Uzumaki’s heir. -  Sasuke kept talking – She is not a problem, definitely. However, the issue here is that what the Kome clan has been doing to set the village as a refugee for Bingo ninjas – everyone was astonished – Apparently, because they still have the popular opinion that the noble clans misbehave, they have settled this village as a paradise for the lowest of the lowest. Additionally, the noble clans are trying to do their best to keep the village at ease and calm. They have shown me proves that everything was settle because of that rape

-Are you sure they are not fake? – inquired Kakashi. He nodded.

- They want freedom, sensei – mentioned Naruto

- Plus Naruto’s and Ino’s sensor chakra will actually help to clarify this situation, although there are some people there that I trust too and I am certain that they are not lying. – Sasuke was sure of his words. Everyone looked quite puzzled, who could they been?

After three days of non-stop tracking something completely invisible, Sasuke led them towards a mountain. It was quite rocky and full of flora and fauna like the rest of their surroundings.

-It is here – Sasuke took of his coat and look at the rest – They would open the passage this evening. We have arrived in time – The team nodded and proceeded to make a small camp. They were not that sure of what Sasuke meant, yet they kept working as promising. Hoping that soon everything would be clarified.

Night came and with it the anticipation to see who they were. Although the Uchiha remain calm and unalerted, the rest of the team had their senses sharpen and their body ready for a fight if needed. Suddenly, everyone felt it, a burst of chakra an explosion, a controlled one, but nevertheless an explosion. Everyone kept closer and the mountain, well, its base, started to fade an open. It was a barrier! A good one for that matter that was for sure, one so powerful to have been deceiving shinobis for years. At the opening 7 figures appeared. There was a hooded one knelled on the floor closer to another taller hooded figure, a voice startled them – Sasuke…just in time. Come quick everyone – it was a harsh female voice. Everyone entered the barrier, cautious, but they enter. Once inside, the barrier disappeared and from the other side there was a forest so deep that they felt a twitch of fear. Hizashi was the first one to be impressed. A Hyuga greeted him with a wide smile. He was rather tall and slim; his face was quite rounded, and his long hair was tidy up in a messing bun at the top. His clothes were more like rags that tried to conceive his body from some cold. His eyes, white and bright as his startled him. He made a bow as everyone else did, except for the knelled figure. The hooded one by their side stood up. It was tall, even taller than Shibi, who was the tallest of the fellowship. They took of their hood, like everyone else they were covered in rags that they called clothes. Their eyes were covered with a cloth. – As the eldest let me greet the Heads and thank your aid. My name is Aburame Takehiko, this is my great-granddaughter Aburame Reina. – The man was indeed old. His face was wrinkled but in a fashionable way, his mane looked straighter than the Konoha’s Aburames. Completely white but with some brushes of what it was a deep black colour hinted that his hair colour tried to remind more than expected. The knelled figure rose, he immediately tried to help her, but she did it for herself. She bowed- Thank you – muttered in a feeble voice. She fainted and quickly the tall Aburame took her in his arms. That allowed her hood to be lifted down, her face was unseen for a great mess of hair covered her. It was deep black, but the Aburame’s saw it differently. It wasn’t black, completely in their eyes they could see the rich red that was hinted underneath. Shibi had seen that red hair before, it had a very similar saturation -Uzumaki – muttered underneath his breath. Takehiko seemed to have heard him and nodded.

Torune suddenly noticed, that man did not have kikaichu only… The man seemed to try his hardest not to seem weak, something that comes with age. He grabbed hiss great-granddaughter tight- We need to hurry before they notice. – And so, he led the way out of the forest.

They climbed a small mountain. Underneath it a small village appeared at their eyes, all houses where white but there was one bigger than the rest that catch their attention. On the west side upon the mountains that were surrounding the village they could see what seem ruins of much more antique houses. – We have time to reach hour home. Let’s be quick just in case – It was the softest voice ever, the Akimichi gal was the one who said so. She run fast together with the Yamanaka cleaning their way so everyone could reach their home faster. Apparently, the Aburame girl was mumbling something towards his great-grandfather, because he kept nodding. They reached the ruins. A big woman with a savage hair which she let it free embrace them – I cannot believe! – she said. Her skin suddenly glow like gold, and her tanned skin became sunrays together with her big smile with a chopped off teeth. She embrace everyone of all a sudden – Oh for what was old and for what it is to be. I can…

-Hush Jun – said Takehiko – The woman was clearly a member of the Akimichi clan – Oh boy, he really looks like his father! – mentioned her while having a great look at the commutive- Jun

-Oh Take…

-Takehiko

- You should be calm; your lass knew was she was doing

-Jun, bring some food and that’s it – said the old man carrying the Aburame girl towards one of those ruined houses. – Call the rest so we can talk properly

-Their father’s too?

Takehiko did not say a thing while he kept his journey towards the ruins – Oh Sasuke-kun~ you were right everyone has come. Oh, my sweet boy! Thank you so much

-Mum stop- it was the sweet voice

-Chikako calm down, oh we should introduce ourselves properly, shouldn’t we? The name is Akimichi Jun, this is my daughter Chikako.

-Mother… I am sure they are tired have you…?

-Oh yes, I cleaned and fixed things up with Toshiko. Oh we did it! – she said trying to cheer them up. She clearly was nervous and exhausted. – Come on, please over here.

Kakashi ventured – Before moving to any place, we need to know where we are and what is going on, madam. – His voice was deeper than usual, he was serious.

-Oiii Kakashi, is that you?

Everyone froze, they recognize that voice. Shikaku Nara, or better said what was left of him and Inoichi. The brave soldier was beaten up by time and the war. Shikaku was missing a whole arm and part of a leg, he had some short of rudimentary orthopaedic leg that let him walk with some difficulties. Inoichi’s eyes looked foggy, as if he had lost a great deal of his sight. He also leaned his head towards Shikaku, as to hear him better, he walked with great difficulty as if his legs were not answering him correctly when he commanded them to walk. However, hard it was he achieved that and walk with slow and steady steps. Ino rush towards him, unable to control her feelings. Shikamaru couldn’t move. When Inoichi felt that embrace he inspire her aroma – Ino… - she smiled and hugged her with his trembling arms. How was that possible?

-Let us explain what this whole mess is, Kakashi – said Shikaku while walking towards the fellowship. He looked at his son, the scars of his face were even fuller of scars. -We have a lot to catch up, don’t we? – said to his son.

[brucie-bruce-waynee]

The Actor and the Billionaire Part 1

Bruce Wayne (Battinson) x reader 

Word count: 3k~

(Reader uses a stage name, but is referred to namelessly or as Mx. Grant. No physical description of reader. Reader wears both suits and dresses. Reader uses they/them pronouns. If you see any mistakes, please kindly inform me.)

If anyone had told you six months ago that you would be kidnapped and locked in a warehouse because you were Gotham’s most famous actor, you would believe them in a heartbeat. The numbers didn’t lie. You had full theaters at every movie you starred in. The Gotham population was very loyal, after all.

However, if someone told you that you would be in that same situation because you were dating Bruce Wayne, you would laugh them out of town. You’d never met Bruce and had never even been in the same room as him, aside from one charity auction. Which was why it was such a surprise when you saw a well-dressed older man approach you at your makeup station. He asked to speak with you, saying he was with Wayne Enterprises and had a business opportunity for you. You politely dismissed your makeup artist and asked her to inform the director you would be late.

“To what do I owe this appearance, sir?”

The older man waved a hand and passed you a formal-looking document.

“I am the personal representative of Mr. Bruce Wayne. It would be ill-advised to speak of this out in public. Is there somewhere we could speak in private?”

Just because this man said who he was doesn’t mean you fully believed him. So, you caught your manager’s arm and led the way for the three of you to your trailer. Thirty minutes later, you were sitting open-mouthed on your six-foot beanbag chair. Your manager, Jamie, was in a similar position, though they hadn’t sat down. You were surprised that they were still standing if you were honest with yourself.

“I’m sorry, let me get this straight. You want me to fake date Bruce Wayne to push his company’s reputation?”

The older man, Alfred, grimaced slightly.

“In short, yes. The Wayne Enterprises marketing team believes that Wayne Enterprises would receive more benefactors if the owner and CEO was seen beginning to settle down. The company needs someone unattached and with a good reputation. It would do no good to have someone wild and rowdy to try and uplift the company. Since your debut into the acting scene, you have proven yourself to be incredibly responsible and capable of handling yourself and temptations that may linger around you.”

You bit your lip, messing up the balm on it. Your manager nudged you, and you sent them a glare from where they stood beside you. How could you help it?

“Why is the personal butler of Bruce Wayne coming in place of someone on the marketing team? Why not Bruce Wayne himself,” Jamie asks, coming to your defense when your tongue couldn’t seem to work.

Alfred gives another smile, this one seeming to stretch past its limits of patience.

“I would have to meet, interview, and field any potential partners my master would associate with, real or fabricated. This is me deciding to cut out the middle man. As for my master, he is caught in business at the moment.”

“More like he’d turn to ash if he stepped into the sun,” you said with a sigh, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Currently, you are in the process of filming a space movie with a retrofuturism aesthetic. This meant you had to wear an outfit so skintight and reflective it was distracting to everyone you encountered. A piece of glitter from your eyeshadow stabbed itself into your tear duct, and you hissed in pain.

Jamie places a hand on your back.

“Mr. Pennyworth,-“

“Alfred, please.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” Jamie said firmly. “Though this offer may seem enticing to some, Mx. Grant has an incredibly busy schedule and has no time to entertain this silly scheme.”

You stopped fanning your eyes and blinking rapidly to shoot Jamie a glare. The two of you looked to Alfred.

“If you wouldn’t mind giving us a moment,” you said to Alfred.

Alfred dismissed himself from your trailer.

“How did he even get on set? I wish you hadn’t fired Anthony. Or at least hired someone else before you fired him. Being by yourself is dangerous.”

Jamie said your name in a parental tone when they saw you weren’t saying anything. You had to think.

“You cannot be serious,” they said, a hard edge evident in their voice.

“Jamie, let me think! Let’s talk about this!”

You shoved the paper with payment prices towards Jamie after you stood, and they took it. The heels on the boots you were wearing clacked hollowly on your trailer floor.

“Look at that! That’s more money than I’m making with this film alone. Think of where we could send that so it could be put to good use!”

After purchasing your penthouse and setting up your cleaner and security guards, you had so much excess money you didn’t need. So, to charity it went! Your latest endeavors included the Trevor Project and several local charities.

“You know, you can keep some of your money for yourself. Why not buy a new purse or shoes sometimes?”

“Acting is my passion and aside from having a home and people to watch over me, I don’t need much. It’s kind of disgusting how much I get paid,” you said.

“You currently don’t have anyone to protect you because you fired Anthony.”

“Jamie, you know exactly why I fired him. I told you everything.”

Jamie’s mouth twisted in the silence as they worked their brain.

“You know, you’ll probably be spoiled with Bruce Wayne’s money. All the clothes you could want. He’ll want you to attend galas and charity events with him. Every news source will have their cameras trained on you.”

You hummed, running your hands down your outfit again. The boots were nice. Maybe you could take these home.

“If he wants me to be arm candy, I can be arm candy. I can look pretty for cameras. It’s my job.”

“But you’re more than arm candy, and you shouldn’t have to stoop to this level for some billionaire’s marketing team,” Jamie said, trying to appeal to your rational side.

Ah, Jamie. They had good points. They were a saint.

“I know my worth. It’s right there on that paper, and it’s a damn good amount. If I was insulted by the proposition, I wouldn’t have considered it this much.”

Calling Alfred back into the trailer, you gave him the signed contract and NDA. The deal was struck. You would receive encrypted plans through your second personal email address. This would outline the entire relationship from the meet-cute and onward into more serious aspects like getting together and public appearances.

After you’d arrived home, it occurred to you that you might have to marry Bruce Wayne. Your fawn red Italian Greyhound whined at your feet, and you picked him up to bring to your bedroom.

“Oh Cinnamon. What have I gotten into, huh?”

Cinnamon whined again, and you kissed his little bicycle seat head. It had been a long day, and you were more than ready for bed.

Another charity auction, this one at an art gallery. Your dress was a deep emerald green velvet with a slit up the side. A little sexy, but not too sexy. Just tantalizing enough to capture the attention of the Prince of Gotham. You had to hand it to the marketing team; somebody knew what they were doing. The story was incredibly detailed, down to how your hair was parted in your 20s-esque hairstyle. You would be leaning against the bar and ready for his approach.

You felt Mr. Wayne before you saw him. His nervous energy filled your space, and you sipped on your water. The bartender had been kind enough to make it look like a martini, so you now had a free olive.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Soft, so soft was his voice. It made you want to curl into a blanket and fall asleep. You turned your head slowly, eyes widening just so. The angle would allow for the curve of your neck to be graceful and swanlike.

“Mr. Wayne, so lovely to finally meet you.”

You held out your hand, and he brought it to his lips. He was going off-script. There was only supposed to be a handshake. Maybe this would be good. A whirlwind romance would make sense with an introduction such as that one. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes. They constantly flickered around the room, looking for something.

“And you as well, Mx. Grant. A drink?”

“Yes, of course.”

Mr. Wayne ordered an old-fashioned. You order the same as last time. He offered his arm to you, and you led him to some art on the far wall.

“What’s your opinion of this piece, Mr. Wayne?”

He studied it for a moment, and you studied him. His skin was translucently pale, hair hanging delicately over his left eye. Your hair was opposite his, so when you turned to face each other, the photographers and paparazzi could get your faces in a clear shot.

“This one has a deep feeling of sadness within it,” he said softly.

It was a pair of people. A man and a woman. They were facing one another and squished to either side of the canvas but reaching out to each other. In the middle of them was a large blue circle. The paint strokes made the flat image appear 3-D. At the very edges of the circle was a subtle black outline with small spikes.

“Interesting. What do you think they’re sad about?”

The conversation continued throughout the gallery, and you made sure to pose appropriately at every photo opportunity. The press was here to document the art show, but most news sources would be raving about the two of you. A pity. You really liked this art. You would commission the artist for a piece.

You finally got a good look at Mr. Wayne’s face when confronted with an art piece that was a mirror with a detailed gilded edge.

Bruce Wayne was handsome. His dark hair accentuated his features, especially his light blue eyes. They reminded you of a cloudy morning in Gotham, one of your favorite times to look out the window. He was so curled in on himself, but you knew his shoulders were broad and strong. If this was a regular, organic relationship, you would consider yourself lucky. As it was, you were being paid to pretend to be Mr. Wayne’s partner, so it wouldn’t do you well to catch feelings for him.

Mr. Wayne surprised you with his studied and well-thought-out opinions of each piece you looked at together. People are much more than beneath the surface, but wealth cancels their taste. Even you had made mistakes in the face of your sudden salary as an actor. Deciding to refresh yourself, you shoved everything you thought you knew about Bruce Wayne out of your head to begin an informed train of thought about the man.

1. He looked heavily into symbolism in art 2. He was a gentleman because he wasn’t using this opportunity to cop a feel

You would get to know him better.

After the artist’s closing remarks and thanks for all the donations, you were escorted back to Bruce Wayne’s Rolls Royce. He would drive you home and nothing more. That would get the public buzzing just enough. The car was silent, and as soon as the door was closed, Mr. Wayne slid across the seat from you. Alfred was asking questions as he drove you back to your penthouse, and you answered them politely. Mr. Wayne said nothing.

You tried not looking at Mr. Wayne but couldn’t help it. He had been elusive for as long as you could remember. It made sense when he was a child, but he was labeled a recluse over time. He rarely ever went outside. It would make sense that his investors would start to fall away without seeing him.

The streetlights of Gotham were dim, but they still slashed across Mr. Wayne’s face and made him look like a chiseled statue. You looked at him unashamedly. His eyes slid over to you, then streaked away once he made eye contact. You wanted another look at his eyes. The car stopped.

“Well, I had a very lovely time tonight. I look forward to our next meeting,” you said softly.

Mr. Wayne nodded awkwardly, and you left, going inside to put on a pair of soft pants and eat some comfort food. You could do regular acting, but this was more draining for you.

As you pulled a soft sweatshirt over your head, Jamie’s text came in. Paparazzi pictures have already started swimming about. You looked incredible in your dress and incredibly intimate as you were caught in motion whispering something to Bruce at that first painting. He made a convincing smitten man. Maybe he would rival you in the industry.

You responded with a thumbs up. An unknown number texted you, and you swiped it away until you saw the name ‘Wayne.’ Bracing yourself, you clicked on it.

‘Hello. This is Bruce Wayne. I’ve been informed I should keep your number in my phone so we can communicate and coordinate our meetings. Alfred also suggested we should get to know each other to make our relationship more convincing.’

He ended his texts with periods? And he wrote so formally. You felt like you were being interviewed. He texted precisely how he spoke, so it wasn’t all that jarring.

‘Send me a picture of yourself?’

An immediate response. Mr. Wayne had clearly just taken the picture. The lighting was terrible, and he was still in his suit. Was he in his kitchen? His phone was angled up with his chin down like most men take selfies. God, he was… weird. You didn’t mind, though. He was kind of cute under all that leftover teen angst. At the very least, you knew it was actually his number.

‘Okay. Just wanted a contact picture’

‘And sounds good! We have a lunch date tomorrow and your marketing team planned my outfit’

‘Dark jeans and a black button up. I’m sure your team planned your outfit too’

‘Or Alfred knows what to go for’

Dropping your phone to your bed, you went to get some water. Cinnamon jumped into your arms and wedged his face in your armpit.

“You know, that doesn’t smell that good, right?”

His response was just to stick his wet nose in further. You laughed as you returned to your room. Cinnamon jumped on the plush mattress and stretched himself out on the empty side you didn’t use. After settling under your covers, you held your phone on your chest, reading the following chain of texts from Mr. Wayne.

‘I’m sorry. I had no idea my marketing team had controlled even your wardrobe. The last thing I want to do is make this situation more strenuous than it has to be. I appreciate what you are doing very much. I can call a meeting tomorrow before breakfast to have them pull back.’

‘If you would like me to do so. You may be being paid by the company to go along with this situation, but I would not want to restrict you.’

You immediately began typing.

‘No, no! Don’t do that. I don’t mind. I’ve been in the industry for a long time. I’m used to having people tell me what to wear’

‘If your marketing team wants to paint a picture, I will be the willing subject’

‘Trust me. I know how important setting the scene is’

‘The marketing team shouldn’t be under fire. I appreciate your concern, but they’re trying to get you more investors’

‘This makes it easier for me so I don’t have to choose an outfit for myself’

Deciding you’d blabbed on enough, you clicked off your phone screen and beckoned your dog closer. Cinnamon snuggled into your hip. Your phone lit up blue light on your nightstand, and you picked it up once more.

‘As long as you’re alright with it. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.’

‘Can you send me a contact picture of you too?’

In the spirit of Bruce Wayne, you sent a selfie right that second. The lamp lighting made you glow, along with your nighttime skincare routine. Your ratty sports sweatshirt from high school covered your shoulders, but it was an intimate picture. Much more personal than you’d send to previous partners this early in the relationship.

‘Here I am!’

‘Good night :)’

Another immediate response.

‘Good night, Mx. Grant.’

[threetrenchcoatsinatrenchcoat]

[IMAGE ID: Tag reading, “#this is a movie about where not to pay attention and it has the grace to include where to pay attention” END ID]

Thank you! Okee okee I have two speeds, the one that fits in tags and everything else, so get comfy.

1. The main theme I believe is very clear and what I’ve seen people aware of about Nope is why the main horror works. The spectacle. To summarize, it’s a classic thing in, like good, horror where the thing that’s scary isn’t just the thing that looks scary, it’s what people’s reactions say about them: it’s not just the fear of a big monster but how militaries and governments approach things they don’t understand, or it’s not just the fear of robots that can imitate people but the idea that we don’t know or wouldn’t recognize what makes our loved ones unique (is this a thing? someone should make this movie if this isn’t a thing). And here, it’s not just what’s alien but the lengths people will go to in the name of gazing at, commodifying what’s alien. The swarm of media following the thing, Jupe trying to tame it, the Haywoods even trying to get the Oprah in the first place. One way this is shown is with mirrors: The freelancer dressed in the reflecting suit, the crew with the mirror that frightens Lucky, and all the many cameras throughout the movie work through mirrors, and cameras’ purpose is to make sorts of reflections as well. My takeaway is that when we invest our unfiltered attention into something, we let it, unfiltered, become a part of us. Those who try to see themselves in a wild creature are punished here, and they’re punished by being proven correct. Conscious or otherwise, they asked to be subsumed by something that swallows. If that were it, that would be a super cool horror flick as is.

2. I’m gonna pull up your original, brilliant tags here: #nope 2022 #fathers that feel like they have to let their daughters down and can't bring themselves to explain why because they wish it didn't have to #be that way #and daughters who are let down. overlooked. not even getting a reason why. #and brothers who look up. who see. #and they used fucking camels #laz watches

The Haywood family succeeded in their industry by avoiding eye contact. Both from the animals and the rich whites they worked with. The aloofness that protected and sustained Otis Sr. in business kept him from giving Em the explanation she was owed at home. To be Black means the easiest route to success is by sacrificing a part of you. When the next opportunity comes from the skies, OJ and Em choose to look too, but the pivot happens when they look away. OJ makes it personal and names Jean Jacket for Em. They’re willing to call it with a few seconds of good footage. When the director guy ruins things, Em looks back at OJ. They get out alive because they have somewhere to look, someone to look to, when the monster puts on its show. They get out alive by working together, trading off who appears the easiest target. In the end, Em gets the shot. But she walks away. It’s not because of anything she decided in the moment of walking. It’s because the ability to avert is the answer she locked in when looking at OJ at the ranch, and it’s what saved them both.

3. In just about any monster movie, the monster represents some kind of change. The siblingship was fracturing before the movie started: OJ criticizes Em for lack of focus, and she criticizes him for lack of vision. They disagree, but they’re two people with immense intention in where they set their sights. These are literally necessary in the third act: OJ’s phenomenal animal intuition determines Jean Jacket’s MO, and Em’s scattered other skills come in clutch when the unexpected motorcycle shows up. And these skills figuratively give them both the ability to look toward and away from the beast at the right moments, to survive and document what no one before them had. Everyone else looked. It makes me think of how cults most easily feed off of people with low support systems or broken beliefs. The cure isn’t infallible logic, it’s family.

thinking of Otis Senior having to use Jean Jacket for a shoot and not looking up at Em, maybe knowing he had disappointed her. And Em being so hurt by it, that disappointment affecting her whole life, not being able to see it hurt him too. Otis needing help and taking OJ, even when Em had clearly shown interest in the work ("watching y'all train my horse. MY horse"). Em clearly not having interest in the work now. Otis asking for her in the opening scene. OJ looking up at her from the arena, and looking up at her in this scene, pointing out how similar she is to their father.

[57greenstreet]

Gossip Guy podcast with Willem De Schryver

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYjtRYOGS00

translated by @jackfrostsander @bruisingknees @lblogss @yousmina and me :)

-

E: I do have another present for you.

W: Oei oei oei, presents.

E: I do that every week. I give something to my guest of the week.

W: Oei oei oei. Do I slide it?

E: Here in the front is a flap that you have to fold upwards…

[Intro]

E: Wassup people, welcome to a new episode of the Gossip Guy podcast. My name is Ender Scholtens and today I’m here with Willem De Schryver. Everything ok?

W: Sure sure (In Dutch sure is used as a confirmation to a question).

E: Is this your first podcast?

W: Yes, this is my first podcast.

E: Stress?

W: No, it will be fine, right? Relaxed.

E: I don’t know… (laughing). For the people who don’t recognize you, from where could they know you?

W: Hmmm, probably from the youth series WTFOCK where, in the third season, I play the role of Sander.

E: And we are allowed to talk about it in this podcast.

W: Yeah I also heard that. Yes, it’s over.

E: Was it a difficult chapter of your life to close?

W: Yes, I still clearly remember the last moment… Like really the last last scene at the sea… That was an emotional moment because you went through a lot as a group, you did a lot together, and emotional scenes, intimate scenes. But yes, I think, if I speak for the whole group that it was a goodbye to the series but not a goodbye from each other. We still keep in contact. Mainly through WhatsApp.

E: Yeah, the end of the series was beautiful. I sat next to my girlfriend when it just came online. Because there were a few scenes that we hadn’t seen yet and we were just watching them… And we refreshed and the last episode was online… The last piece was online… So, I thought… I really cried… It caused quite some emotions.

W: For many people… Also under the cast and even the extras that were present for that last scene… Even among them. I can remember that they got emotional because it really was over over. I think that we, WTFOCK, have been able to impact a lot of young people in Belgium. So, it’s beautiful… We closed it beautifully…

E: I don’t doubt that. I really liked the end. What is your favorite memory from your whole WTFOCK experience?

W: Hoh, hmmm. Do I have to choose one? Difficult to choose one… I think that the most enjoyable moments… At the end of each series… Almost… We were at the sea or in the Ardennes, as a group, for a vacation. Away together. And those moments… Away with the whole cast and crew… Being away for a whole weekend. And in the evening, talking late into the night and that creates a special connection and I think that, in general, was the most enjoyable… Yes, it affects me… You share, as a young person, a common dream or something we want to realize as an actor to succeed and everyone who works so hard for that… That’s nice to see.

E: I recently talked to Veerle and I know that if she sees Nora, like somewhere, say at a party… Then they stay together for the whole evening… Do you have that? With who did you have the best connection throughout that whole experience?

W: Yes…

E: That doesn’t mean that the rest is not chill or so…

W: No the rest is all stupid… There’s only one person… I hate you all! (joking) No! Yes, hmmm, I think that I definitely have the best connection with Willem. Just because we have been through a lot… I always compare the WTFOCK crew a bit to my own friend group, aside from the cast. I mean, I know to whom I can go for what. I know I can go to some if I feel sad, to talk and I know who I can go to to have a laugh. And who I can go to to have a general chat. And everyone has their qualities or like their own aura around them… Where I love to hang around. So, it differs from person to person. So, it’s hard to choose one person but Willem then in the sense that, if you jump naked together in a swimming pool and if you have intimate scenes together… That creates a connection, of course. So, yes, if I have to choose one person…

E: Is there a barrier that you have to overcome to play such scenes? Because they are very intimate, indeed. And I, personally, couldn’t imagine… I can’t act… But, to empathize with a role… To play such scenes… Is that difficult for you?

W: Huh, yes, that’s a question I get often. I mean like… Yeah and you have to empathize with that character… But yes, you step into that project with a certain professionalism and you say “okay, we are going to create a story and bring it to the public with certain values and that we want to tell something and show something” …So, yes, you don’t really think about it. So, it’s not like I thought “Ooooo, I am kissing with a boy but I am interested in girls”. That was not a problem for me because it really is about telling the story and making that together and if the story requires that then you just completely go for it.

E: That’s cool. What are your future acting ambitions? You now have played in a series, is that something you want to do more in the future or do you like theatre more or movie or…

W: I find it difficult to choose between theatre and film, for example. After WTFOCK I played in Déjà Vu, which you can see on Streamz and later this year on Channel 4… And I study theatre at KASK. And I notice the difference, due to the recordings, I am really in the field and I am busy and I work, while at school I learn new things about theatre… So, in my opinion I have more experience in television work because I actually have done projects for that and I haven’t yet for theatre, which is still school and learning. So, I think it’s currently hard to choose but I think, maybe it’s a cliché answer, but the combination is maybe ideal, of course. But I am still exploring and I will see how it goes…

7:02

E: What is your favorite food?

W: My favorite food?

E: Yes.

W: Hmmmm, in the past I was really a basic guy… Like spaghetti bolognese or so… But now, generally after my exams, I go to a restaurant with my grandma. She always buys. That’s always amazing. I am a fan. And I always take steak tartare with fries. That remains a bit of a guilty pleasure.

E: How long, do you think, would it take you to eat five full plates of spaghetti bolognese?

W: Hoh, hmmm. The thing is, my stomach is rather small…

E: Small?

W: I think that I would have to schedule in… Okay, after a certain time I would have to throw up and then eating further…

E: You’re allowed to take a break. You’re allowed to say… Okay, I take a few days…

W: No, no, not that…

E: You’re going to do it in a day?

W: Look, two plates… Three if I really push…

E: You get preparation time so you know like a week before… So, you can like…

W: Train yourself?

E: Yes, train…

W: Hoh, alee say about four hours…

E: Four hours?! Five plates, he? Like five really big plates…

W: Yeah but yeah, four minutes… I am exaggerating… Let’s say a day… In a day five plates…

E: Ok, that should work. Then you basically have every meal… Breakfast… Lunch… Dinner… and in between… pasta…

W: Pasta as breakfast…

E: One day should definitely be feasible.

W: Yes, indeed.

8:49

E: What is, according to you, the reason you were placed on this planet?

W: Fuck (laughs).

E: Existential crisis, okay? Have you never thought about what the purpose of life is and what…

W: Yes, certainly… Hmmm, I'm someone who worries a lot. When I'm in bed in the evening I start to think about questions like that and then I think “what am I doing? Willem… where do I want to go to and…” Hmmm, why was I put on this planet? Hmmmm… (speechless followed by laughing). This is really bad… It’s like I don’t value myself…

E: Noooo, but I didn’t expect a deep philosophical answer. Well, if you had one… really good but…

W: Okay I’m going to think about my philosophical answer… but no. If you want… No! Yes, now I'm really going to sound philosophical but… (crosstalk) Everyone who is on earth has a certain reason to be here and everyone… I for example have that… I really feel that… I never liked going to school. Especially, in lower and high school. I… I actually, on purpose, put my fingers in my throat in the morning to throw up…

E: Wow, that’s heavy…

W: And then going downstairs to say “papa I’m ill, can I stay home?” I don’t know why but that whole system… Sitting behind a desk all day… And those classes… that was not for me. And then I discovered my passion for acting and discovered that it really suited me. And that’s the thing… A lot of people often ask me like “how did you start?” and “I also would like to do that and where do I start and I have been rejected does that mean I am not good enough?” but I think that sometimes you shouldn’t rush to find your passion. It can take longer then you would like it to take. I think that if you too intensively search for "what am I good at?" and “I have to find something that I am good at” and… For me that’s happened unexpectedly. I did take acting classes on Wednesday afternoons after school and I kind of got into it like that… I think it differs for everyone and that everyone has their own purpose here on earth.

E: And would you say your purpose is acting?

W: Yeah…

E: There isn’t a right answer but how does it feel for you at the moment? Is that the thing you love doing the most or do you see yourself doing for a long time?

W: The thing is… I’m a person who gets tired of things very quickly. I’ve had a lot of hobbies.

E: So maybe next week you want to garden or something?

W: No, no I wouldn’t say that. No the thing is, with acting that isn’t the case. Since I was twelve… well first on amateur level…

E: How old are you now?

W: 19.

E: Oh wow I thought you were my age. 19… damn bro you’re three years younger than me.

W: 2001 represent.

E: That’s literally… you’re the same age as my brother! What the shit. Alright, no okay.

W: In November so almost 2002. I’m really a latecomer.

E: What?! You look like you’re the same age as me and everything.

12:14

W: But that’s honestly – thank you for saying that! I always used to be the “little guy.” None of the girls wanted to be with me cause they just thought I was cute.

E: I see.

W: And they came to me to talk about their love lives.

E: Oh, okay.

W: So I was always that guy who was like: “I’m in love with you.” “Oh, how cute! You’re so cute!” So I was always like: “Okay then, I’m never going to find anyone, I’m always going to stay… short. I’ll be all alone.” And then all of a sudden I –

E: Do you think height matters in regard to your chances with certain… people?

W: At this age I don’t think it does anymore, but I do think that – I think at – I just remember in high school that the romantic idea of what love was supposed to look like was very: a boy and a girl, and the boy has to be taller and stronger and bigger than the girl. But I think that now it’s more… I mean, at my age I’m convinced it’s more fluid than that, and it doesn’t have to be that way. So it doesn’t have to be an issue anymore.

E: But still, when you go on Twitter, short guys are still –

W: Yeah.

E: Totally annihilated.

W: I have notice – I have noticed – Yeah, it’s still… It’s still this… general thing that people get stuck on. Like: “Oh, a short dude. That’s not okay.” Or whatever.

E: Or like the guy has to be taller. But no, we’re – we’re – not… not all relationships… we’re really generalizing here. But I get what you mean.

W: Yeah.

E: No, it’s – I do think it’s still important. I think that when you’re, and this is really harsh, but that a lot of people look at you differently when you’re taller. I have this dude in my friend group, Louis Ledegen, and he’s close to 2 meters tall, and just some girls look at him and they just think that’s so… attractive or whatever. And I just can’t even imagine.

W: I don’t get that either.

E: That that makes them go like: “Wow!”

W: I was in the train just now and this dude walked by me and he was honestly like 2 meters tall and I was just thinking: “When you’re that tall, and you’re with…” I mean, the girl almost has to get on a stepping stool to reach him for a kiss! And girls are like – I mean, I’ve heard before that girls think it’s attractive when a man is really tall.

E: Yeah.

W: And yeah, I don’t know… I don’t totally get it.

E: No.

W: Maybe it’s cause I’m not that tall myself, that I’m like trying to protect myself and be all: “That’s not necessary!”

E: Yeah! If anybody knows the answer, do we, being shorter guys, have less of a chance?

W: Let us know, please.

14:53

E: Please let us know! We need some answers! Now in the show, wtFOCK, your hair’s a different color.

W: Yeah.

E: Yeah. Is that something… So that was actually – it wasn’t really blonde?

W: It was completely bleached.

E: Bleached.

W: It was more to the… But the thing is that they had to do it twice, cause the first time… I got there, for the first table read with the director and Willem [Herbots] and they were like: “Hey, Willem. We wanted to ask you something. We’d like to bleach your hair for the role.”

E: Yeah.

W: And I was like: “… Okay.”

E: Okay.

W: “And why?” No. “Just for the character and stuff.” So I was like: “Okay. That’s fine.” The thing is I had to be at the hairdresser for 4 hours for this.

E: Oh wow, heavy.

W: It was like this and this product, and it had to sit for a long time. It had to be bleached all over. And I got out of there the first time and I was completely yellow – but yellow like an egg.

E: Oh, shit!

W: And I… My mom dropped me off, and I texted her: “I’m done, will you come get me?” And I saw my mom approach and she just passed me by.

E: Oh wow.

W: She didn’t – she almost didn’t recognize me anymore. Like halfway - she was like – and then she was like: “Oh! Willem!” Like she hadn’t seen –

E: Oh shit.

W: That it was me. That I looked completely different. And then I arrived for another table read and Tom [Goris – director] was like: “Yeah… We’re not gonna go this route… This is too yellow.” So then I spent another 4 hours at the hairdresser. After that I had to be there for four hours almost every month. I did think it was cool to have bleached hair, but… You have to be at the hairdresser for so long, so that really wasn’t… my thing. I mean, I had some really cool moments with Mitch [Fabry – hair & make up wtFOCK]. Thanks, Mitch.

E: Would you ever dye your hair again?

W: Uhm.

E: Maybe another color?

W: Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m quite happy with my hair color, actually, I don’t know.

E: Alright.

W: Now it’s also like… Everyone always asks me: “So this is your natural hair color?”

E: Yeah.

W: And then I have to tell them: “Yeah.” And it’s like: “Oh, okay!” It’s this switch. But no, I’m happy with my hair. It’s fine.

17:03

E: I can also tell that you’ve got an earring? You can’t really tell on camera, but –

W: I’ll come a little closer [to the camera]. Yeah, I only got it recently, four weeks or something.

E: Yeah. Was it an impulsive, drunken decision, or something you wanted… for some time?

W: I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I was a little anxious about it like: “It’s not gonna look good on me,” and then after a while, a couple of months ago, I was like: “Fuck it, I’m just gonna do it.” And if it didn’t look good I could still just take it out, so it doesn’t really matter. But all in all I was pretty happy with it. My father, my parents – my mom: “Oh, so nice!!” And it was like – at first they give you a stud and then after four weeks you can change it to a hoop. And I really wanted a hoop, and I even asked the people in the (piercing) shop: “Can’t I please just get a hoop straight away?” And they were like: “No, sorry, it doesn’t work like that. For hygiene reasons that’s not okay.”

E: Okay.

W: But okay, so I had to wait four weeks and then eventually I could change it to the golden hoop. So I get home and the first thing my father said was: “Wow, you look like a douchebag.” That was the first thing out of his mouth, that I looked like a douchebag.

E: Is that the look you were going for?

W: No, not at all! Not at all!

E: I think it looks cool.

W: Thanks.

E: Cause a little while ago I wanted one, and so I put on my girlfriend’s earring – because even if your ear isn’t pierced it sticks a little –

W: Yeah.

E: And so I just put it on there for a day or something, and then I was like: “Okay, that’s quite enough.” I don’t know if I’d want it for longer than that. Recently I’ve been getting into rings and stuff though.

W: I wore rings for a long time, but I don’t have any anymore. I actually want – I like them too. But I have to –

18:47

E: If I’d known, I would’ve brought you a gift!

W: Go shopping. Goddamn!

E: I did bring you another gift though!

W: Another gift? Oei oei oei, gifts!

E: This is something I do every week,  I give my guest of the week something.

W: Oei oei oei. 

E: It’s just…

W: Do I just slide it –

E: There’s a little hatch over here, that you have to lift, and then you can just lift it like that. There we go.

W: There we go.

E: White hairspray.

W: If I’d want to go back to – there we have it. Too good.

E: It can be washed out really easily as well. So this way you don’t have to be at the hairdresser for like four hours. And then when you’re sick of it, you can just get rid of it again!

W: That was the thing… Thank you, by the way.

E: You’re very welcome.

W: Now I can go back – Now I can go back to my past life. No, that was the thing as well. People who – people who - after wtFOCK came online, people really recognized me with the white hair. I mean, it’s pretty noticeable, when I’m walking through Ghent station – if someone with bleached hair. I mean, if you watch the show, I can imagine that when you see someone with bleached hair, you immediately connect the two and think: “Oh, that could be him.” And then you run in to some people who ask for pictures. After that my hair was really short, cause the people from Déja-Vu were like: “We’re not gonna do this, just go back to your natural hair color.” So I cut it all off, and there was this time where… nobody came to talk to me anymore. I was able to just be myself again. It was as if – looking back on it, it was actually really nice that for wtFOCK I was able to completely get into a different character with different hair. And the first time I got rid of the hair I really noticed that was no longer being associated with the character.

E: Hannah Montana vibes! Your hair changes color and nobody knows who you are anymore.

W: “Who are you?”

E: “Who the fuck are you?!”

W: “Does anybody want to take pictures with me? It’s me! It’s me! I swear!”

E: “I’m that dude from wtFOCK! I’m that dude from wtFOCK!”

W: So if people don’t recognize me anymore I can just… *pshhht* in the morning.

E: Exactly! If you want to take some more pictures, you can just…

W: No, no. That’s fine. No, yeah.

E: It’s kind of crazy, actually. Because, honestly? The very first time I saw a flash of you, with this hair color, I also thought: “I recognize you from somewhere…” But I think I’d already gotten in contact with you through social [media] and I didn’t put two and two together that you…

W: Yeah.

E: “Aaah!”

W: “Aaah! You’re that guy!”

E: Yeah, so…

W: But that’s the whole thing. If someone recognizes me, which doesn’t happen that often by the way, it’s always – I think it’s funny to be like: “No, that’s not me.”

E: No.

W: People really start doubting themselves, it’s very: “Uhm, can I ask you a question? Are you that guy from wtFock?” “Me? No.”

E: “No!”

W: “That’s not me.” And people will often be like: “Oh? What? But I recognize you…” That doubt on their faces is pretty funny but yeah, then I tell them it’s me.

E: Just the reaction of someone being like: “Huh, do I know you from somewhere?” “Do you watch porn?”

W: The confrontation.

E: “Oh… qmdkjg.” And it’d be even better if the parents were right there as well. “Argh!”

W: “Yes, Jürgen, care to explain yourself, young man?”

E: No, it’s just funny to joke about. But you’ve never – Do you just get: “Hey, are you that guy from wtFOCK?” Or have people also asked you: “Do I know you from somewhere?” Or: “What do I know you from?”

W: Yeah, it depends. The thing is – I go to school in Ghent and when the [popular place where college students go out] was still open before Covid-19, not that I went there often because I didn’t really like it there –

E: No.

W: - in the sense that the combination of young people who –

E: Watch wtFOCK.

W: - watch wtFOCK and alcohol – and people who’ve had alcohol to drink –

E: And are horny?

W: - their limits or boundaries are just gone. “Oh my god!!! You’re that dude from wtFOCK!! Can I kiss you??” Things like that!

E: Oh, fuck!

W: And I was really like: “Okay…?” I’m just a regular dude and I’m trying – and I actually thought it was less annoying for myself, but I thought it was more disruptive for my friends. Like even when we were just walking down the street, we got recognized a couple of times, and I was just like: I just want to have fun with my friends, and not have to spend too much time thinking. That’s another thing I was subconsciously thinking about. Imagine I drink way too much.

E: Yeah.

W: And I end up in the gutter somewhere, and people start filming that… So yeah, that made… So because of that I spent more time in friends’ dorm rooms just having dorm parties.

E: And since your bleached hair is gone, have you gone to a party?

W: When my bleached hair was gone corona was already a thing so I haven’t been able to enjoy it. But it’s starting to come back [the parties] so that’s nice. I’m looking forward to… tomorrow I’m going-

E: Are you going as well?

W: Are you going to Plein Air by Fuse?

E: Tomorrow I’m going to Jaimie Lee who-

W: …Is going to DJ at three festivals.

E: Yeah at three festivals and I will be backstage I guess.

W: Okay.

E: One of those festivals?

W: Yeah I don’t know. I have tickets for Fuse Open Air in Brussels.

24:19

E: I honestly have no idea where I’m going. Anyway, I’m excited. And I always asked, what’s the first event you went to ever since it’s allowed? Did you go to We Can Dance festival?

W: No I was studying.

E: Was today your last exam or yesterday?

W: Yesterday was my last exam in the morning. I was stressing so much, because I thought I would fail, but eventually I think it went relatively well. If you’re watching professors, let me pass please. No I think it went well.

E: Are you someone who is stress resistant?

W: Uhh no.

E: No?

W: I let it take over my body.

E: You get physically unwell?

W: I will be laying in bed and I’m tossing and turning and sweating. And I think about how I’m not gonna pass tomorrow. And the combination with my worries is really not good. It makes me stay up really late. The thing is with stress resistant, I for example made my own play at high school about a kid with divorced parents for my final work and the whole audience was filled with my family and my parents. That’s pretty confronting to tell a story that’s also a little bit of their life and is pretty personal. I’m always stressed for things like that. Then it’s weird – from the first word I spoke I had a lot of stress and worries and the first sentence that I said was something like “I don’t know what to do”, and then it’s all of a sudden poofff. The train has left.

E: You said you didn’t really know what to do now.

W: That’s the first sentence of the text that I wrote and the moment I said that sentence I thought in my head “the train has left, there’s no way back now” and then the stress disappears automatically. But before the final rehearsal there was a moment that I was moving around heavily and I was throwing with chairs. And afterwards I had to pack moving boxes, which was okay. But from moving around and the combination of stress it made me almost gag in the box from the stress so I almost puked. So at these moments it gets pretty heavy.

E: Did other people notice or were you hiding it?

W: Yeah the final rehearsal was luckily not with an audience, but my teachers were like “Everything alright?” and I was like “Yeah I’m good. It’s a bit much”. But when it comes to stress, a lot of people always say – I’m even a little stressed right now actually.

E: Really?

W: Podcasts, oh no no.

E: Oh shit. You have to be (stressed)

W: A lot of pressure on my shoulder here. No, but a lot of people say that it doesn’t look like that I’m stressed even though I really am dying from all the stress.

E: Only now you can hide it really well. You should become an actor.

W: A lot of people have said that to me often, but it’s not my interest. Also not much work in the field.

E: That too, fuck. Are you someone who constantly pretends like you’re okay?

W: Yes.

E: Even when you have a lot of shit going on in your head and you’re processing other things?

W: I'm one person. One person?

E: "I'm one person" [laughs]

W: I am one person. No, but I'm someone who often keeps their stuff to themselves, so that I can listen to what others need.

28:15

E: That was my next question. You listen more to other people’s problems and you’re the person people come to with their problems?

W: I think, at least I hope, that a lot of my friends do know that they can always come to me for a talk or a phone call. I'm someone that will shove away their happiness for someone else, which isn’t always positive of course.

E: It is a beautiful characteristic, but it shouldn’t take over indeed.

W: In the past it has happened that I was falling apart, but I kept pushing it away, because I wanted to take care of someone else. I noticed this a lot during the divorce of my parents. My parents had a hard time with the divorce and I remember that I came home as a little boy and I saw my mom sitting and I felt the duty to comfort her and to be there for her, even though I was 8 or 9 years old. That’s not something you expect to do or think from an 8 year old. It really broke me and now I can openly speak about it, because I have had enough conversations with my parents about it, about how it was for me. And I made a play about it, as I told earlier, so it’s been a whole process and that has scarred me till at least my 16th. My parents got divorced when I was 5 or 6 years old. It took me a long time to open up because of that. I notice it a lot in previous relationships, that I walk away from fights, because I would find the confrontation too heavy to get into a fight and to discuss. The divorce and fights with my parents scarred me so hard that I didn’t want that again. I wanted everything to be rainbow and sunshine, but life doesn’t work like that. And that was partly a misconception from me, that I thought that a relationship had to be perfect, if there is a fight, then it’s not going well. Now I realize that fights are part of a relationship. And also part of steps you take into accepting each other, listening to each other and understanding each other. It’s needed for a stronger connection. You can’t, well you can, but in my eyes you can’t be with someone for a long time without ever having had a conflict. Even if it’s a discussion, because then you’re adapting too much to the other, and then you say okay, I’m adapting to the demands of her and I suppress my own things or things I want to do, only to avoid the discussion, and that’s something I learned. And that’s how everyone learns their own things along the way.

E: You still see it in the youth, those romantic movies, where everyone is so in love and it always ends with a kiss or something and it’s always good and then you think, this must be the case in real life. Why can’t I find Gabriella Montez for my Troy Bolton. Even though that was a shitty relationship too, they were constantly fighting. No, but that gives a wrong image about relationships and for other things because of movies. And the reality is just different.

32:16

W: Yes. I recently for the first time -this is kinda embarrassing because it’s a must see- watched The Notebook.

E: Me too! What did you think?

W: It has been a few weeks ago. Or a few weeks, maybe 3 or something.

E: I watched it last weekend.

W: I almost cried.

E: Really?

W: I’m a really emotional person. I can really cry. I can really get lost in a movie. “No not the puppy, why?!” Those things, where I think "Willem, act normal". But no it was a beautiful movie.

E: Yeah I have a different opinion, because I just fell asleep. I fell asleep, because it all went so slow, it started so slow. I didn’t even watch the kiss in the rain scene.

W: The moment. It’s in literally every romantic movie. In the rain, it happens everywhere.

Ender: Yeah mate, it’s such a cliché actually, but yeah.

W: I bet you that they’re just standing there with a garden hose.

E: Definitely.

W: It can’t be that they’re waiting, “is it gonna rain today? We need to do that scene now”.

33:27

E: Checking the rain alarm while everyone is inside. There are definitely sprinklers there. It’s in a lot of romantic movies. Now that we’re talking about it, the filming you did with wtFock, you sometimes had scenes outside. Here we have those (light) spots, I assume that you don’t carry them outside. How do you guys do that?

W: Sometimes we do have spots outside, but as long as the light from the sun is okay – with a binocular (telescope), well it’s not a binocular, it’s a round thing you can look through and with it they can determine the brightness of the sun and if the sun is too bright for the lightning they need, then it gets shielded, the same that is in front of your lamps. With that they can dim the lights. Or when there is not enough they use isomo plates, that’s really weird. Sometimes there are really intimate scenes in a series where it looks like it’s really close to the skin of the actors. There is a camera with a plate on it and a stick for the sound above it, it sometimes made it really hard for me to focus, because everyone is sitting there and the director and I’m like “yeah, okay okay”. So it takes a lot to get it all professional.

E: Was there a crazy moment where you forgot your lines? That you’re laying in bed and you’re like “which sentence do I have to say now?”

W: Yeah we’ve definitely had a lot of bloopers. Yeah forgetting lines or.. the thing is, as long as the director doesn’t say cut, you have to keep going. It’s a matter of "how do I improvise myself around this scene to get to the point we actually have to get to", because you have a scene and you have your lines, but if you forget something, then you do know the main lines of where the scene has to go to. You know the scene will end in a kiss or something and these subjects will be spoken about in the conversation, so when you forget your lines, you try to work your way through it as best as possible. And when the director says it wasn’t good, then we’ll do it again. I’ve had a lot of moments where I forgot my lines and I was laying in bed with Willem and we would look at each other and we’d know that I had to say something, but I was stuck, so there would be a 10 seconds silence, hoping for them to say cut. Yeah so those kinds of moments a lot or moments where I… I also had that with Déjà Vu. I remember… by the way it was amazing to work together with such big names as Natali Broods and Koen De Graeve. And Koen, lovely person, was kind of the father figure on set and we had a scene, next to the bed, a quite emotional scene. And the camera was focused on me, close up on my face. And I still remember that, the sound was going, everything, and Koen had just told a joke, or made a face that made me laugh. So, I had to laugh really hard, but I had to act very sad. It was an intense scene of goodbyes. All the time, starting to laugh about everything. I still remember for wtFock we made a video with bloopers and those are very fun to watch back.

37:03

E: Are those bloopers ever published somewhere online?

W: I don’t think so.

E: I think if you’d be able to release them somewhere that a lot of people would be interested in them.

W: Yes, yes. I don’t know why, indeed. The fans would be happy with those.

E: I think a lot of people- because we were just talking about your biggest fan.

W: My biggest-

E: Your grandma.

W: My grandma, yes. Big shout out to my grandma.

E: Do you think she’s watching right now?

W: She’ll definitely watch, I hope so.

E: What’s your grandma’s name?

W: Micheline.

E: Micheline, thank you very much for watching Micheline.

W: Micheline.

E: I appreciate it.

W: Women in power. She deserves a special place. No really, she follows all the fan accounts of wtFock. And then sometimes, or very often, we call and she gives me an update of what’s being said on the internet. Or yes, I also remember, when scenes come out and there’s things being said and she’s like "Willem, is that true, what are they saying?" And I say "Grandma, it’s nothing, it’s all from the show." "Ah okay, okay." So yes, very sweet grandma. She’s like the grandma where everything was allowed. I think that’s the same for everyone. At home, there are a lot of rules, and then you got to sleepover at your grandma’s and it was like: "Oh, I get to stay up later, and she made pudding for me." Her vanilla pudding-

E: That good?

W: Grandma, if you’re seeing this, please make some vanilla pudding when I visit.

E: Dude, everything’s falling out of my pocket.

W: You’re letting everything fall out of your pocket? Maybe you need to buy another pair of pants.

E: The chair is too comfortable that I’m kind of sinking in it, and now I constantly get-

W: The conversation’s too comfortable-

E: It’s just my phone, it’s vibrating, I think it just vibrated out of my pocket. So, silent, great. Eh, what were we talking about? About your grandma.

W: About my grandma.

38:46

E: Now, totally different subject. If you were a fish, what color fish would you be?

W: A fish?

E: Which color do you identify most with?

W: Eh.

E: And you’re a fish too of course.

W: Identify with which color. The thing is, I’m in the scouts. And in the Jins, that’s the last year before you become a leader, we were given a color totem, and the whole group decided on a color that fits you.

E: All right.

W: And mine was mango orange.

E: Wow, that’s cool.

W: Yeah, I thought it was cool too. And it means, if I have to think back, mango has quite a hard peel, relatively, but the fruit itself is quite soft. And that refers to my personality. I’m someone that lets people in fast, around me, but in the beginning, suspicion is a little strong, but kind of like, testing. Let’s say that. But once- From the outside I might look a bit hard. A lot of people say that when I have my straight face-

E: Resting bitch face.

W: That I’m angry. I was once told on the subway by a dude, and I was just listening to music, staring in the distance, and I think, suddenly a dude comes up to me, in French: "C’est quoi ton problème, heh, tu regardes come ça, c’est quoi ton problème." And I was like: "I’m sorry". Apparently, I was looking in his direction with my-

E: Bitch face.

W: Bitch face. He must have thought I was looking for problems. So yeah, that’s why the mango, a little hard on the outside, but once you get to know me better, a soft, sweet boy. So that’s why, orange. So, an orange fish then.

E: A little bit of Nemo vibes.

W: Yes, Nemo then. But let’s, what’s that theory. Did you hear that?

E: Theory?

W: About Nemo.

E: What’s the theory?

W: Haven’t you heard that? I keep seeing that online. I’m having a crisis. So the thing is, your childhood will get ruined.

E: Fuck man.

W: The thing is-

E: But there really are, no keep going, I have something I want to say afterwards.

W: The thing is, I’ve heard, that Nemo is Latin for nobody, and that the father is imagining that he still has an egg left, but that that fish doesn’t actually exist.

E: Oh fuck.

W: And that Dory joins him, and he sees, we’re actually not looking for anyone, but because he has memory issues, he constantly forgets that they’re not looking for anyone. So, they’re actually looking for nobody. And I saw that online and I was like.

E: Damn, so all the eggs are eaten, but he imagines that someone still has to be there.

W: Yes, something to keep living for.

E: Fuck man, that’s very brutal. That’s very fucked up.

W: Sorry to everyone for who Nemo is ruined now.

E: There’s a similar theory about Phineas and Ferb, and then Candice, their sister, is based on a true story about a girl that lost her brothers and still imagines that they're still doing stuff in the garden. And she keeps telling her mom: "Look, look, they are still here, they’re doing that." And that the mom says: "They’re not there." And that’s why she can never see that. You get it? Brutal right?

W: My whole childhood is ruined. Fucking hell.

E: That’s going to be the title of this podcast.

W: Childhood ruined.

E: We’re ruining your childhood.

42:17

W: We’re ruining your childhood. No but that’s good because, thankfully, I have a half-sister, but I say sister because I think half-sister is an ugly word, of seven years old. She thinks she’s 16. She’s a real diva.

E: Oh wow, okay.

W: She’s very, I’ll tell you a story later, but the thing is, I experience all those things with her again. In the beginning it was like, turning the tv on, Bumba, again. And I could secretly watch with her without feeling guilty. I was like, I’m watching Bumba and secretly I’m enjoying it, but sssh, I’m just watching it with my sister.

E: That exactly.

W: And now it’s Ketnet, like Hoodie, those series that she’s watching. And yes, I notice that because of all the technology today, she has an iPad, she’s on YouTube, she’s watching those self-made crafts.

E: 7 years old?

W: 7 years old, yes.

E: Wow.

W: She watches those- where people are playing with Barbies and they make a little play with them online on YouTube and they do stuff. Yes, a tablet. She has an iPad that’s bigger than her head. That makes me think- well, an iPad is usually bigger than everyone’s head. Or well, almost.

E: Not if you have a mini of course.

W: Her head isn’t that big.

E: Okay.

W: She’s on it a lot though. But she’s a real diva. I think the best story I have, there’s multiple. I remember the story, we were sitting at the table and she was having another moment of "I’m the princess, and everyone can leave because I do what I want and fuck you all". But the thing is, there’s five kids at home. I have a brother and two stepbrothers. So, she has four brothers, and she knows very well that she has four brothers. And that makes her feel even more like she’s the princess at home. So, we were sitting at the table. And she kept staring at my dad like this while throwing her cutlery on the ground. Like "what are you going to do". And my dad was like: "Liv," because her name is Liv by the way, "stop that."

E: That wasn’t nice of Liv. (Liv sounds the same as lief which means nice in Dutch.)

W: No. Not nice of-

E: Haha. Sorry.

W: Badam pam ts. Can’t we put that under here. Yes.

E: No, sorry, keep going.

W: So, he was like: "Liv, stop that, stop that." He started to get annoyed, because she kept going. "Liv, what is so hard to understand about no." And then it got silent at the table so I thought, okay, it’s done. The o.

E: Oh wow.

W: 7 years old and she drops that.

E: Oh wow.

W: And I thought, okay.

E: Damn bro.

W: The o. That she even dares to say that. Yeah, and she has those moments. She was sitting at the table, with her mask on, eating. So, she pulled her mask down to eat, and then she was chewing with her mask on. And then I asked: "Liv, why are you wearing your mask?" "Yes, you came back from Ghent, you’re not in my bubble."

E: Okay, okay.

W: So, then I said: "Okay, that’s fine." It’s crazy how that goes around among young children. Because my sister came back home from school crying once. And I asked her: ‘Liv, what’s wrong?’ "Yes, my friends didn’t let me play with them." So, I was like: "Why?" "Margot says I’m not allowed in her bubble."

E: Oh wow.

W: See, that’s becoming the new- we played with Pokémon cards on the playground and now it’s about playing games in bubbles because it’s so-

E: Damn.

W: Yes, you’re only allowed to have four people in your bubble so we don’t play with more than four.

E: Oh wow.

W: So I found that kind of crazy, or confronting that it made me think like, even at such a young age it has an impact. And I know that the-

E: That it leaves an impression.

W: Yes, and I know that my dad-

E: It’s sad that children have to think about it.

W: Yes, exactly.

E: Well, it’s not that- everyone should think about it of course.

W: Yes, yes, of course. It’s also that I know the way my dad feels about raising, that he tells Liv straight up about things that are happening in the world. He doesn’t make things seem nicer, or saying, eh, yes, no, but that’s- The classic story of how babies are made, with the cauliflowers, and what not.

E: I also just think-

W: How am I going to explain that to my kids?

E: If you don’t make it a taboo to start with, is it that bad? It’s just- it’s just. Oh well, that’s a whole other conversation.

W: Yes, no, definitely.

E: But straight up just telling what’s going on to your kids. I think I would prefer that to making up a story about the flowers and the bees.

W: Yes, yes.

E: Because the story about the flowers and the bees, I don’t even know how you actually- pollinating and stuff, is that what that means?

W: You do it like this, pollinating.

E: Yes, no, exactly.

W: Yes, but well, children, that’s still a long time from now.

E: Do you want kids, you think, later?

W: Yes, please.

E: Do you think you would be a good father?

W: I hope I would be a good father. Despite my parents’ divorce, I really do… I do look up to my parents. I’m proud of the way they raised me. So yeah if I would be a good father… sometimes, but maybe that’s the age, kids frustrate me. I’m a leader in the scouts for the Welpen and Welpen -great guys- but they can also be annoying and say “I’m not participating” and “that’s a stupid game, can we do something else?” and I’m like “we invest so much time in this and so much preparation, please participate” so sometimes that bothers me. But I would prefer not to have just one (child). Certainly more than one because… are you an only child?

E: No I have a little brother.

W: Yeah only child… with all due respect to people who are only children but sometimes I think… for example, I’m very happy that I have a brother. Not that it wouldn’t be fun without a brother per se, but I don’t know, the contact I have with my brother is nice.

E: The thing is, you don’t know what you’re missing so it’s hard to miss it I guess. But I do think that my brother has been a great added value to my life.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: In the same way, I never really had grandparents. They all died before I was born and the grandfather I did have was quite old when I was actually aware that I had a grandfather. So I’ve never really had the grandparents experience that you see with family gatherings and stuff. But I don’t feel like I’ve missed anything but I still know how much other people benefit from having grandparents. Also what you just said about how often you call each other and stuff. I think that’s the same with being an only child. If you don’t have any brothers or sisters, you don’t know what it’s like to have that, what you’re missing. But if you do have it, it’s an added value I think.

W: Yes, exactly. No that’s true. My brother is very helpful to me now. I know that I can count on him.

E: Older or younger by the way?

W: Older.

E: A lot older?

W: 21.

E: 21.

W: Oh boy I had to think about how old my brother is. Embarrassing. Love you man. No but we had - maybe you had that too – but when we were younger, we really fought.

E: Physical?

W: Real fighting. Yeah, it’s has now gotten much better. I think we understand each other a lot better, but it used to be real… we had Catch WW on the Wii and we reenacted that on the couch so that was… “In the right corner Ramy Stereo” and we were bare-chested and both had one boxing glove on and fighting each other until one of us cried, bled or gave up. Usually it was me.

E: That’s just the fate of the little brother.

W: I always went… I’ve never admitted that actually, [whispers] it’s a confession. I’ve never admitted it, but afterwards I always went to my parents and cried “Kwinten hurt me”.

E: That’s really… that’s the moment, you feel it coming and you think “ah fuck no, if I hit again it’s probably over but I want to…” [cross-talk] “no no no don’t tell mom! Don’t tell mom!” I think I was a pretty nice big brother. We often did shit together. We were at home playing on the couch together and Olaf bumps into a large box that was standing there and the box, bigger than Olaf back then, fell down on his hand.

W: Oh shit.

E: So Olaf broke his hand. And I thought “I made him jump over those chairs” and then you have to say “sorry sorry don’t tell them, don’t tell them!” but yeah if your hand is fucking broken, you’re not gonna stop crying because your big brother says “don’t cry”. Yeah, that are…

W: Yes, but the relationship [between Willem and his brother] has improved. Okay we still have our discussions but... I think moments like when we’ve both been to a pub or something and we come home at the same time and we’re always hungry and standing in the kitchen making sandwiches. Those are great moments. I don’t necessarily need to have emotionally heavy of deep conversations with my brother to know that he’s there and that I can have a good time with him. So I think that’s the added value of having a brother or brothers in general.

E: Do you guys also have a specific sense of humor? Or like those moments when the two of you are laughing and your parents or people around you think “what the fuck is going on?”

W: Yeah we speak some slang to each other for fun. Like “stu stu” and [my slang knowledge is very limited so I have no idea what he’s saying here lol], those kinds of things. Typical slang from Brussels and Leuven. It’s funny because my parents are always like “why are you talking to each other like that?” and recently, I was leaving and my mom said “stu stu!” so they are adopting those words and then my brother and I can’t stop laughing.

E: Also if your mom suddenly says “are we going to chill later?” and I’m like [laughing] “what? Mom!”

W: “Okay??”

E: It’s kind of cute. Yeah it’s fun. And what are… I almost want to go deep like…

W: That’s okay.

E: Is there a particular interaction or experience you’ve had with your brother that sums up your relationship right now? Or are those the moments when you’re laughing and eating at night? It doesn’t have to be a super deep or emotional moment.

W: I think it’s an accumulation of those moments and emotional moments too. For example, after it was over with my ex. I was really down back then, it hit me pretty hard. Those are the moments when I can walk into my brother’s room in the middle of the night and he’s there for me. I know that dude is always going to be there when something’s wrong, no matter how much we argue or how much we shit at each other. I just know, and I hope he does too, that I can call him 24/7, walk into his room 24/7 and he will be there or ready to listen. I think that’s just something… the fact that we know that about each other, that creates that bond. And the thing is, if only he would do his best and go to work, earn real money… because we went on holiday together and he still hasn’t… he still has some work to do but we’ve already planned something. I’m really looking forward to it. We’re planning to go surfing in Portugal together. Those are moments I just know I can go somewhere with him and have the time of my life without-

E: …That you can remember for the rest of your life what you did together.

W: Yeah, absolutely. Those moments that I want to cherish or want to keep or experience.

E: My little brother is also just the most annoying dude on this planet who I love the most.

W: Exactly that combination. Annoying, but you love them.

E: Of course. The cameras are back on. That means we’ve been at it for over 50 minutes.

W: 50 minutes? It feels like we’re chatting for 20 minutes.

E: Exactly.

W: Pleasant.

E: That’s good. If it’s pleasant and the stress is gone.

W: Do you actually like me? “No I hate you. We’re going to finish. It has been good.”

55:29

E: No we’re not going to finish yet, but before we do, is there anything you’d like to send out into the world before we finish? On average there are 10 to 50 people watching. Is there anything you want to say to them?

W: To the 10 to 50 people?

E: Yes.

W: 10 to 50 people, you are awesome. No, what I’m saying… maybe a little deep but it doesn’t matter. Very often in your life you are going to encounter that you run into a wall, that you’re going to have setbacks, that you think “I don’t want to anymore, I can’t to this anymore, life is all one big shit show” but I think that there is a certain… at least I believe that – everyone has their own opinion of course- that a certain path has been mapped out for everyone. Not necessarily that things are set in stone but there is a road that you are going to take and that road is going to have curves, is going to have hills, is going to have valleys, is going to have everything. Maybe it’s a gravel path, maybe rocks you stumble over but -it sounds a bit stupid- put on your best walking shoes and just walk that path the best way you can. Just try to live life with complete joy and euphoria because you’re 100% worth it. No matter what other people say or think about your ideology or style or way of life. Everyone is entitled to it or should be given the opportunity to be appreciated for who they are. I think that’s something we do too little in this society, but yeah.

E: Just don’t be too hard on yourself in the end?

W: Yeah, don’t be too hard on yourself. A lot of people blame themselves too much. Or “oh I’m like that and I don’t fit in because of that” or something. Then I think: so be it.

E: Do you sometimes feel that you should do more or have achieved more at this age? Of course you’re already doing a lot of cool shit but social media, I know there is a highlight reel of all people’s achievements and that sometimes it’s very difficult to filter between what is real and how much is that person actually sitting on the couch doing nothing. Do you sometimes feel that because of social media of because of your environment or I don’t know, that you’re not doing enough?

W: Gosh, sometimes I think my life is too full.

E: Too full?

W: Not that I’m saying “oh I have so many things to do” but I’m like... I’m letting that grow organically or so.

E: Not putting too much pressure on yourself?

W: Not putting too much pressure on yourself. I’m doing a course now that I’d like to finish because I’ve had those two projects and there are friends of mine who say “why are you still studying? You’ve had your opportunity, you’re going to get new opportunities right?” and I say “hey! I’m also only 19”. Sometimes I think “fuck Willem you should have achieved more already” but I also think I’m only 19. There was a conversation at school… I really think that’s one of the added values of the course. We receive an observation report twice a year, 5 pages where the teacher writes about you and how they see you, what they think about you, what your qualities are, what you still need to work on. It’s always spot on. So strange how they can just see right through you, even though I sometimes try to hide it. Yeah, where was I going with this… we had subsequent conversation about it and I said to my teacher “sometimes I feel like I’m too young for this course” that I have too little life experience. There are people in my class who are in their 20s or older, who have already studied something else before this, have read a lot more, seen a lot more than me, a lot more experience and I think “fuck, I don’t have anything”. People talk about certain topics and I don’t follow at all. I mentioned that I felt too young and she [the teacher] said “you’re young, but that also has its advantages. Your youthfulness can actually be an interesting tool in this course and look at it from a different perspective”. So I’m convinced: don’t be too hard on yourself, don’t think “whew, I’m already 20 and I haven’t achieved anything yet” so to speak. I even saw a video recently where… “if you don’t make it in your 20s, you might make it in your 30s and if you don’t make it in your 30s, you might make it in your 40s”. There are so many… there really are a lot of people… people often forget that there are people who only find out what they want to do or discover their passion later in life.

E: And also just… I think it’s so ridiculous that you set certain goals for a certain age or something. That it’s so expected that by 18 you must have completed high school and by 25 you must have had your first job interview, by 28/30 you must have a house and a serious relationship where you’re committed to for the rest of your life and by 40 you must have already had a promotion, that you can provide for yourself and fix your pension. All those fucking predetermined milestones. I think that’s kind of bullshit, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If that were the case, then I should graduate in a few years so to speak while I’m clearly not studying here because I have – fuck normally I have a re-exam today. And here we are.

W: Here we are.

E: I knew I was doing this but I mean that’s just… there’s so much time. I’m 22 now and I’m doing some shit, if I go nuts now or people don’t want to listen to this podcast anymore, don’t want to see what I do online, okay then I have to look elsewhere. But I did this and I went for it and I tried. I’m 22. Even if I go nuts now and it’s all gone, I’m only 22. There are still so many ways it could go. A lot of people don’t have a job at 22. If I started looking for a new job or something now, hopefully I’ll have one by 25. Then it’s still okay because I’m only 25. I don’t know, I always find that… I could go on for a long time about this. I think those predetermined milestones/goals of things that you must have achieved by a certain age, I just think it’s bullshit.

W: I sometimes make the comparison that people too often see life as the sports world. Football players who are good until 35 and then they are done. As if you must have already performed before that age. That’s not how it works. You really have all the time and you really don’t have to stress. I also notice that many people… you mentioned re-exams. That people say “fuck I have re-exams, oh no I’m not going to pass, oh no you have extra…” chill. You do your best, but suppose you have to repeat a year, that’s not a disaster either, is it?

E: What I also think is crazy is how many people have studied law and you eventually hear that they ended up in a marketing agency because they found it much more interesting. When I talk to some people who… I was seeing a social media manager recently [laughs] “seeing”, I was talking to him.

W: “seeing” okay [laughs].

E: I was talking to him.

W: [joking] Ender has something to say.

E: And I asked “what did you study?” and he said biochemistry. “How the fuck did you end up here?” Him: “uh yeah that just wasn’t the right fit for me. I have a master’s degree but I started working here because I found it much more interesting”. I thought: why am I pretending that the degree I’m trying to get is going to determine the rest of my life, you know?

W: Absolutely.

E: If there are so many people now… because he was only 28 or something. So I thought “aah okay so you’ve been studying biochemistry for so many years and now you’re here – I don’t know if I’m talking about the correct position – but now you’re just sitting here making content. Cool. But why do I attach so much importance to that one direction I’m studying right now that doesn’t even have anything to do with media or anything. I mean I’m very interested in media, I’m studying economics. Which is also interesting, but that’s not what I see myself doing in the coming years.

W: Yeah, yeah.

E: Anyway enough about me. Do you think you could win in a fight against a cow?

W: [laughs] I really like that. You can switch to totally different shit like that. Like before you suddenly asked what color fish do you want to be. Okay. That’s nice. Win… I’ve heard if you knock over a cow it dies. That it has a heart attack then. We don’t want to kill cows okay!

E: And purely hypothetical, you’re just standing in a kind of meadow so it’s not super big so you can’t go in all directions. There is a limited domain. You come face to face with that cow and you have to begin. No weapons. You’re standing there and the cow stands there and you both know you’re going to fight.

W: It knows that too?

E: It knows that too.

W: [makes mooing noises] okay ca va.

E: It’s not a bull but it does have horns so in fact it would-

W: I would shit my pants. I’d give up already. I would lie on the ground, come on. Really crazy, I saw Jackass recently. Those guys, that Wee Man, who was in that link with the bull and he’s being catapulted, so to speak.

E: I don’t understand how those guys aren’t all dead yet.

W: Yeah they are really crazy.

E: There was also a rumor that Wee Man died from a bowling ball during… but apparently that wasn’t true.

W: I don’t know.

E: Fucked up shit. Would you win against a cow?

W: Would I win against a cow? No, I wouldn’t win against a cow. I don’t think I would win against a cow.

E: I think I would. I think just like with a bull I would try to jump out of the way like that and once you’re on the side it’s just a matter of pushing. If what you said is true, it’s game over when it’s down and you know, that’s your tactic.

W: But the thing is, a cow is heavy, isn’t it?

E: True.

W: You can’t just push it over like that, can you?

E: Sure, but it’s a matter of life or death, isn’t it? The adrenaline rush. You have to image, a cow just comes running towards you. The adrenaline that goes through your body. You shouldn’t underestimate the power you have then.

W: Just find the best patch of grass and when it’s there, sneaky knife in the back. No, now people are going to think I’m that kind of person.

E: That you’re just a snake.

W: Snake. Definitely and I admit it. No, that would be fucked up.

E: I’m going to do one more thing that’s important. I’m going to find a Twitter shout out and in the meantime, I already asked you what your message is to the world and that was a beautiful message. Got something more banal that you’d like to share? Something that you want to share from your social media or something?

W: What do you mean from social media?

E: Where they can follow you. You can say something if you have a really good video that you want to share. “Check me everywhere”.

W: No I don’t have… people should do what they feel like doing. Do you think I’m cool, do you think I’m fun, follow me on Insta. No really doesn’t matter. Doesn’t really matter.

E: Alright, I’m just going to scroll and you say stop. I’ll go back and forth and you have to say “yes that’s the one who gets to have this week’s shout out”.

W: Exciting huh. Stop.

E: [reads twitter account] M. Verschuren.

W: M. Verscheure.

E: Is that…

W: [reads quote] “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”.

E: Wow. Damn bro.

W: I’m going to edit my quote.

E: “If you were never sad, you wouldn’t know you could be happy”. Wow. If you didn’t have shitty days, you wouldn’t know what the best days of your life were.

W: Exactly. But what if you get stuck in your shitty days for the rest of your life?

E: That won’t happen. That’s my biggest fear.

W: Me too.

E: Looking back at your life and thinking-

W: …Fuck I’ve never been there again.

E: …That’s where I peeked. Hope that doesn’t happen. Anyway M. Verscheure thank you very much for listening, I really appreciate it. You as well, I think?

W: Absolutely, absolutely. How much were you going to pay me?

E: 50 euro.

W: Then I’ll come… awesome. Super cool.

E: Thank you so much to everyone who listened. I appreciate it. If you want to hear more you can always subscribe to this channel. It’s also good for my ego. I’ll just put your Instagram link in the description, for people who are interested. Okay, that was it.

W: Thanks, it was fun.

E: There’s an audio only episode on Spotify every Sunday and the video comes out on Monday. That’s it. See you next Monday. Or Sunday. Peace.

[transhawks]

What even is this so-called "hero and villain" side of fandom? Why are we so divided? Why do people assume "so and so" must be friends and obviously know of each other as "a group" thus representing, the entire "other side." Why do we believe certain "groups of blogs" must definitely hold a certain opinion because of a few posts from other blogs that are part of that "other labelled side" not realizing they're completely unaware of each other and do not agree? Is that what creates this "middle ground" of not really fitting in with either of them?

I've been shifting between all three, and I've noticed some hero stans think villain stans think a certain way, but those villain stans are the same ones you and some others disagree with, but yet those opinions seem to largely define "the other side." I've also often seen villain stans act petty and engage with hero stans in the way your anon does here, and some anons constantly share that "perceived majority view point" with hero stans, and I think this is what's causing this huge disconnect. These individual people going from blog and blog sharing stories and that colors our perceptions of each other, and we put everyone into a collective bubble despite these three sides of fandom having smaller groups with their own perspectives on the series that don't match that perceived image. A lot of these three sides even have things they agree with each other on, and things they enjoy about the series, the common ground is there, but we're too divided and chose to stay in our own areas, and I do think that is for the best because one way or another, the differences in opinion will collide somewhere.

I just wish some individuals would stop trying to stir up trouble, it leads to things like someone calling all Hawks stans annoying with a petty meme over proper communication, all because of a basic post where an anon was saying Twice wasn't a good person for his willingness to kill, and the OP clarifies that that wasn't the reason they thought Hawks called him a good person, but because Hawks thought Twice had the potential to be a good person because of the positive traits he'd seen in Twice and wanted him to channel it into something else. Which is a fine opinion to have whether you agree with it or not or think it's all wrong because Hawks is the devil obviously, but my point is: It's a basic post like every other basic post on this website where nobody is attacking anyone or being sassy or rude, which makes the response received completely uncalled for imo, and with the lack of fact-checking? Leads to a "common idea" of a certain group of people "acting a certain way" without knowing what prompted that idea and if it's even deserving. For the record, I used to be guilty of this as I thought all villain stans read the League as positive revolutionaries, not realizing how harmful they were to themselves, but it's been a good year or so since then ever since I decided to actually see what some of you were saying instead of going off word-of-mouth. But that's also why I know how much making exaggerations and spreading assumptions can be an issue.

So, I love my fandom history. I'd say the divisions were less a thing prior to 2018/9 for a couple reasons - the League were less interesting. We had less of them, and the villains were just not given the same depth...yet (i argue 115 is one of the best chapters in this manga). You had stans, of course, and essentially people into the adults over the kids really gravitated towards the villains.

I'd say a few things changed that.

The League went after Overhaul and cemented themselves as a 'group' more so than a bunch of random wackos.

And Dabi is Touya theory got really a lot of confirmation from the Pro Hero arc.

Essentially, once the Hawks Infiltration plot entered this manga, the manga shifted in focus. The villains got more time, more depth, often more than the kids for certain villains. Then MVA happened.

So it went from interest to genuine interpretation of the manga after this. Horikoshi basically threw away his earlier statement of not wanting to humanize the villains too much and started doing that. Villain stans went from people who just found the villains more interesting to being in a space where we were debating how right the villains were as the world started kind of proving they might have a bit of a point. This did divide the fandom. One of the uhh core divides is really about narratives and how we read the story.

I'll give myself as an example - I'm a Hawks-focused blog, right? From the very start I made this blog to talk about him, since I was fine on my main account randomly rbing bnha once in a while, and I was really into Deku before I caught up circa June 2018. It was wanting to write meta on Hawks that changed that. Now, a lot of the names of people who wrote meta alongside me back then are no longer active as far as I can tell, but I'm still here. And yet you know why I've not gone into the Hawks tag in a year and a half? Every time I try to do a mass rb of fan art there's always a couple I can't because I'm blocked. People I've never interacted with or seen in my life. It doesn't really bother me, just gives me pause because I'm rarely the type to block. Unfollow, yes, but not block. The only people I've really blocked were certain unhinged people I absolutely do not wish to engage with or former friends who hurt me deeply and even seeing their blog names causes me discomfort. So I always wonder what was it that made these people block. It comes down to interpretation and talking about.

I've made peace with the fact those random Hawks-likers dislike my take on the character. It's fine, I don't have to prove much to them these days. I've been right, I've also been wrong. But I've written stuff for this small fandom space for years, and I know enough that if I am wrong, I'll accept it when it comes out. But those fans are bothered seeing my posts, and I think that's where the divide is - when we challenge each other's view of the manga. And visibility is unfortunately as good as. I don't tag my meta as #antihawks or #hox because I'm not "anti" the character, just able to articulate and criticize and CELEBRATE how flawed this character is (that and I get really upset when i see people tag my stuff with #hox as it reminds me of the people I once thought were my friends).

Simply, it's about the interpretation of the manga. You have people in parts of this fandom who absolutely do not believe the villains can be saved or that the hero children should save them. There's little communication I can have with people when we so fundamentally disagree on this. Same with my views on Hawks being wrong. Those people who block me fundamentally disagree with me on Hawks having done the wrong thing. Conversations are difficult.

I just wish some individuals would stop trying to stir up trouble, it leads to things like someone calling all Hawks stans annoying with a petty meme over proper communication, all because of a basic post where an anon was saying Twice wasn't a good person for his willingness to kill, and the OP clarifies that that wasn't the reason they thought Hawks called him a good person, but because Hawks thought Twice had the potential to be a good person because of the positive traits he'd seen in Twice and wanted him to channel it into something else. Which is a fine opinion to have whether you agree with it or not or think it's all wrong because Hawks is the devil obviously, but my point is: It's a basic post like every other basic post on this website where nobody is attacking anyone or being sassy or rude, which makes the response received completely uncalled for imo, and with the lack of fact-checking? Leads to a "common idea" of a certain group of people "acting a certain way" without knowing what prompted that idea and if it's even deserving.

I get your point here. Like I don't assume all "hero" stans are like the unhinged anon who sends me asks about the kids doing emotional labor or something. Some part of me is just "we have different interests" about people who mainly focus on the kids.

But there is a boogie man kind of anon thing, you're right. A lot of people don't see the bad takes they're told of them through their inboxes. It makes things go haywire. I will say my recent stuff is in response to seeing discussions and feeling absolutely dismayed at at a few villain-focused blogs that I know interact with me. The message was for them.

But you're right in that there isn't a "common consensus" because fandom is not a hive mind and shouldn't be. I've been in a space where we tried to make a hive mind in 2020 and let me tell you, it's awful. I refuse to like censor or remove my opinions to be part of a group these days because I did that in 2020 and it hurt so badly because nothing was good enough in that space - we all watched each other like raptors looking for the slightest misstep or transgression, to the point where the person I'd consider the ringleader of it all would look at who like what post when she didn't like the post or not engage with a post. It was insanity. I wish I can attribute it to pandemic lunacy, but like.... I can't. It was just a lot of absolutism and power highs. No nuance. People got cut off quickly like contestants in a contest reality tv show.

But views change. I did read the League as that, or more was inclined to. I hoped Tomura would change his mind and break free from AFO, because even I saw his beliefs and wants as self-harming back in 2019. There was a lot of this tied into his name being Tenko, a term for the coerced ideological renouncement of communism prior to WWII of many prominent Japanese leftists who then supported the emperor. I was sure there was a "turn" somewhere in his future and I hope he'd fight AFO and lead the League to something greater. When the possession plot happened, that ruined most of that for me but it took me a year or so to really process where the manga was headed.

If anything what I'm most dismayed about is people not like... letting their earlier views go as the manga goes on. Dabi is very different than we thought initially, and very few people accurately predicted the sheer level of jealousy, or how much he adored his father (compared to his other siblings). Endeavor is far more complicated than we thought initially, and while I still call him an abuser and rapist I also ponder a lot about Endeavor with broader questions about abolitionism and restorative justice and whether rapists and abusers can be reformed because these are the sort of difficult questions all this makes me ask myself. But a lot of people refuse to even question previously held opinions. idk, sorry for rambling. Your ask made me reflect on how much the fandom has changed in the years I've been here, over and over again.

[flickeringart]

Saturn and narcissism

Many people have a faulty perception as to what narcissism really is. It is usually described in terms of overt behavior of self-aggrandizement, vanity and excessive self-love. This would be the over-simplified and non-helpful way to describe it, because it doesn’t pinpoint the reason for, or encompass the complexity of this character trait or “personality disorder”. When it comes to narcissism, the overt self-inflation is not really what it seems because it doesn’t spring from a true sense of grandeur. It stems from a deep sense of lack and insecurity, which the person has over-compensated for. There’s a difference between a person who is genuinely self-loving and someone who needs to focus excessively on the self and one’s success in order to not feel inferior. 

Saturn (and Capricorn for that matter) in the natal chart seems to me to be in line with what one could label “narcissism” because he is generally associated with struggle and deprivation. Saturn is indicative of a psychic lack, which can manifest itself in different ways depending on the sign placement, house placement and aspects made to other planets. Usually, there’s deep inadequacy that is felt, some void that is not filled and coped with through clever defenses. I’d like to think that most people have narcissistic traits; I have certainly not met a single person that hasn’t displayed some kind of cold and walled-off behavior. Of course, this doesn’t mean that everyone can be said to have the personality disorder, but, everyone has Saturn somewhere in their chart and his placement indicates where we have built the most rigid defenses, where we are painfully serious and where we are the most vulnerable. It is also the place where we feel the most undeveloped and infantile, and it’s often hidden behind a façade of competence or proclaimed superiority (or inferiority designed to instill guilt in other people for being better or more “accomplished”).

Narcissistic individuals can be very controlling, manipulative, false and uncaring. They can lead double lives and twist the truth to their liking. This is understandable since they are buffering themselves from a (seemingly) permanent inner wound and can’t live their lives from a place of authenticity – the pain of the void in annihilating and needs to be covered over. Feelings of guilt and shame are usually carefully contained within, but sometimes these surface in response to something small, and there’s an over-reaction that is obviously stemming from something more serious than the “superficial” trigger. Typically, people who are involved with this person feels like they have to walk on eggshells around them and might become hyper alert as to not say something that would provoke the narcissistic injury. The rage storms, critique, pessimism, skepticism and double messages are commonly displayed within personal relationships, rather than publicly, but there certainly are cold, competitive and authoritarian people in the work place and on the public arena as well. The negative traits are typically mixed with charming and likable qualities that cause confusion and cognitive dissonance in others.

In extreme cases of narcissism, to the point where it could appropriately be labeled a disorder, the person might be unable to be in touch with any sense of guilt or remorse for inflicting other people pain. This coldness is more often than not an adaptation to a very unforgiving and controlling early environment that caused the individual to put up high walls between the self and other people. When emotions are continuously taken advantage of and there’s no room for developing something real, the person must emotionally disconnect from life because the world is ruthless and non-conducive to well-being. The price for walling oneself off is internal isolation, emotional starvation and deep depression – but it’s sometimes better to be “voluntarily” starving than to be starved by the world. Although lack is usually seen as a bad thing, it comes with its own hidden treasure. It invites the opportunity to build something that is resilient and reliable that will stand the test of time, something that isn’t reliant on circumstances to exist. If anything, Saturn lends itself to being self-motivated because everyone in the external is a threat and would take pleasure (even if it’s not admitted to) in seeing another fail. Humans are quick to take delight, however slight, in another person’s relative disadvantage and weakness. People feed off of the pain of others, to varying degrees of severity.

In my own experience, I’ve found that people can be very nice and encouraging and openly supportive, only to make you feel at ease, and then they use that openness to that they’ve created in order to disempower you through instilling doubt and shame when it suits them. This is exactly how Saturn works. His function is to disarm the “opponent” (everyone is a potential threat) in order to protect the personal ego from facing annihilation. His attempt is essentially to strip away everything that isn’t real and pure within through playing the devil’s advocate. People play this ruthless game of the “devil” with each other all the time – especially when they feel vulnerable and need to drag someone down in the pit of self-doubt with them. People point out each other’s shortcomings, their deficiencies, their falsity and their hypocrisy. No one is as keen to point out the wrong doings of others than the Saturnian because he is striving for realness and substance. Everything that is built on shaky ground will be destroyed in his presence. The same can be said about the narcissistic individual – he will accuse others of being or doing the very things he is afraid are his own sins, primarily to deflect the shame, but also to test the other person’s realness or integrity. That which shatters under pressure is not very reliable and the Saturnian is looking for quality and substance. The sad thing is that just about anything can be dismantled and broken in this world – except that which can’t. What that is exactly is for people to find out for themselves.

It is often said that people with narcissism live in a false reality where everything is taken personally and the slightest hint at criticism and disapproval will tip them over into frenzy. The reaction isn’t false nor is it purely due to living in a false reality; it is a fact that people in general aren’t full-fledged saints. I have yet to meet a person that is so completely void of an ego that they don’t have any sore spots and won’t bite back if they feel that they’ve been attacked. I also haven’t met any person who has 100% altruistic motives. People nudge and coax each other all the time, which can be seen as quite innocent, but it still stems from a desire to get one’s own way. In a sense, one could claim that people only seem to care about another if there has been some kind of identification and projection of inner subconscious qualities on the other – and even that is not true caring because one really does it for the self, even if it doesn’t seem like it because it’s unconscious. A narcissistic individual with apparent difficulty to include other’s well-being as their own is perhaps more capable to do something purely altruistic because it would not give them any pleasure to be “selfless”. In other words, there is no secondary gain in genuinely acting in someone else’s best interest for these types – not even emotional satisfaction. Empathy that comes naturally is beautiful, but when it doesn’t and has to be acquired against all odds, there’s opportunity for great growth. This opportunity is character building and humbling – it really is the opportunity of building something of substance from the ground up.

Lack is not ultimately a bad thing if its treasures are valued instead of dismissed and ignored as meaningless. Being “without” is an opportunity if one can stretch one’s perception beyond the discomfort of the present. The psychic void of shame that is felt can only be filled from the inside. By cutting out the middle man (that is, “external supply”) the person becomes truly self-sufficient and non-complacent in dealing with life. Saturn is not a bad planet per se, even though it is traditionally labeled “malefic”. It simply requires more consciousness on the part of the individual and more deliberate effort. Narcissism can be a byproduct of the Saturnian dynamic, but its ugliness can be a blessing in disguise.

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Note: I’m not ”blaming astrology” for causing a mental disorder in this post, I’m simply exploring the Saturnian archetype and how it correlates with certain behaviors. I don’t believe any planet ”causes” specific behavior but I think that it can point to an underlying archetypal pattern at the core of certain behavioral dynamics. As stated, Saturn is representative of lack, defences and restriction in astrology - which are all necessary psychological functions. Like any function, they can be effective and healthy, but there’s always a downside to any function. I’m exploring the downside in this post.