#sorry people who shit on good art advice really confidently make me mad

[newspecies]

watched one of those "reacting to bad art tiktoks!" videos because i was bored and wow this guy hates color theory because "almost every digital artist uses the actual color of the object and then uses a layer effect to bring the colors closer together" do you not want to know WHY the layer effect works? do you not want to know how to do this without a layer over it??? also sometimes. the layer effect looks worse. than if you pick the colors yourself. wild i know, its almost like the human brain can tell what looks good and a computer just does whatever you tell it to. like its literally GOOD advice if you dont want to use it go ahead, no one is stopping you... sorry im trusting the professional animator over some guy who can only draw big boobed women

[fubukiswifenoimnotjoking]

One Punch Man ship reviews bc I’m bored

WARNING: BIG ONE PUNCH MAN WEBCOMIC AND MANGA SPOILERS

GenoSai: do I even have to say it?? They compliment each other so well and are already besties. They make me so happy and I love their love. Genos literally came into Saitama’s life and brought so much new life and excitement when Saitama thought he’d never get any. Genos gives him love and appreciation all the time and never abandons him. Saitama isn’t connected to his feelings, but he cares about Genos and would do just about anything for him, to keep him safe. Genos constantly teases Saitama and Saitama grumbles and takes it with some banter, Genos is super emotional and Saitama does his best to comfort him, they fucking love shopping together and just hanging out period, they talk about the dumbest shit and somehow they still understand each other with the one brain cell they both share. It takes Genos forever to realize his feelings are deeper and Saitama has to be TOLD by their friends that he should fucking realize his feelings already. Just...I could keep going but I’ll stop! 2718873737839439/10 (let’s not talk about the age gap btw, 6 years isn’t bad and Genos is a legal adult.)

FubuSai: the stereotypical straight ship ppl gravitate to. Eh. I can see it, but at the same time I feel like they don’t completely compliment each other. Are they a hot couple? Duh. But I feel like their pride and communication issues would get in the way. 4/10

TatsuSai: hnghhhh. Someone mentioned this before, can’t remember who, but Saitama literally thinks she’s a child in canon. So that just....makes it gross. Same problems as FubuSai but worse. I’d rather see them as hesitant friends w a weird bond. 0/10

SonSai/SonicSai/idk the ship name: eh, toxic. Cant see them getting past communication issues and pride, again. Plus Sonic wants to kill his ass. Also, I just feel no romantic tension?? Even in fanfic it just falls flat for me. 3/10

MumenSai: a favorite!! Wish I saw it more, it’s very cute. Mumen is so kind and would absolutely be there to help him w self esteem and just help him be a better person period. And Saitama would have a cute little kind guy to tease and open up to. I could maybe see Mumen’s kindness getting on Saitama’s nerves when he’s in a bad mood bc Mumen almost never snaps and Saitama feels shittier, or maybe Mumen being mad at Saitama for being kinda lazy at home while Mumen is working his ass off and he’s like babe I just got home, please stop playing the fucking game and pay attention to me I have a concussion again. Prob too nitpicky on this one, heh, but 8.4/10

Genos x Sonic: wtf? As a crack ship, sure. That’s hilarious. But as a serious ship, 1.3/10 bc I could MAYBE see them bond over their love of my chemical romance or sum.

Anyone x Puri: -128382839287473828739219833468282/10. Fuck Puri.

TatsuKing: eh. Indifferent on this one too. I can see them getting along and Tatsu being the mean but supportive gf in public, but a sweet gf in private. King could be like her calm oasis of video games and sweet blonde shy bf. I sway more towards ace/aro King and queer non binary Tatsu, but this is still good. 6/10

FubuPsy/Fubuki x Psykos/idk: hell yeah!! This series NEEDS more wlw ships, both for me to project onto and to cry over. Prob my fav Fubuki ship, cuz they’ve known each other since they were young and had a tenuous friendship. I didn’t use to ship it until I saw that scene in the wc after the MA arc (u know the one) but here we are. They’re big personalities so any interaction is bound to be chaotic at first, but I really think they’d work. Pride put to the side, Psykos could be someone for Fubuki to finally rely on other than the Blizzard Bunch, someone to confide in, a badass partner to fight monsters with, talk about nothing for hours with, be a super fashionable #girlboss couple with, and someone who would really see her for who she is-especially w Psykos knowledge of her from the past. Hell, Psykos might even know her better than Tatsumaki. Fubuki could be an anchor to her like she currently is in the wc, providing a quiet comfort and making her open up little by little. Would prob be toxic at first bc of the MA arc and their desire for power, but is a very good ship I think. 9/10

Speedal/Sonic x Mumen: an old fav! Sonic would have a hard time not hating Mumen at first bc he’s the picture definition of a hero, sum he hates. But hanging out with him would show him Mumen is a GOOD guy genuinely and he’d be like ohhhh shit I’m in love w this man. Mumen would thoroughly appreciate someone to make him live a little, break some rules and stand up to ppl when they talk over him. He’d DEFINITELY be upset when finding out Sonic is an assassin, but would prob be conflicted bc he knows Sonic is a good person despite that. Would prob make Sonic give up on killing for them to be together. Sucks bc of the assassin thing and bc they haven’t met in canon! So we’re not sure how they’d interact with each other, sigh. 7.4/10

Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: a very underrated ship! To be clear, I headcanon Kama as a trans woman and so does most of the fandom. Anyway, very sweet and already built as a friendship bc of their partnership under Atomic Samurai. I can’t remember who writes fic and makes art of them on tumblr but AAAAA it’s so good! Very sweet. Basically depicted Bushi as a nervous himbo who’s honest about his feelings but scared to say them and Kama as a sweet lady who’s crazy about Bushi. Very sweet. Want more of them!! 6.1/10

OneZon/Zombieman x One Shotter: never even thought of the ship till I saw @megidolan art work! Very wholesome, and from what little we know of Shotter we know he’s a sort of nervous yet strong willed guy, and Zombieman would totally help him calm down bc he’s so chill. I could see them sharing cigarettes and talking shit on heroes while cuddling u know? 7/10 only because I don’t see enough of it but very good concept.

Mumarou/Mumen x Garou: a lot of ppl are gonna hate me for this but....I don’t like it. I’ve tried! I just—idk. I’ve read so many good fics about them that make me like it a bit, but the concept is just eh. I think their relationship is, in most reps, really cliche angsty stuff. I wish I could elaborate I just...gah! Basically, there’s better ships for the both of them imo. Sorry!! 4.3/10

Sonic x Flashy/SonFlash: yes!! Prob my fav Sonic ship. They have soooo much tension, it’s almost worse than Genos’ tension w Saitama. Flashy LITERALLY poisoned Sonic so that he wouldn’t be forced to kill him at the ninja graduation. He cares. They’ll never say it out loud, but they care. They have someone who understands what they went through in each other and someone they’re both so similar to, yet so different from. Sonic is more vocal about his expressions and let’s people know it while Flashy often keeps things to himself, they could really influence the other to be more this or that. I could see a lot of comfort with these two, and not much is needed for relationship development; they already have so much unspoken between them after meeting for the first time in years. Love it. Wish I saw it more! 10/11

KingSai: wonderful! Out of the few ppl Saitama is close to, def my second fav pick for a ship for him. There’s a post saying how Saitama doesn’t cut King off when he’s going on rants about games and stuff bc he’s talking TO Saitama, not at him like Genos tends to do on accident. They’re already great buddies! Saitama could find a shy gamer man who he can talk to about manga and stuff and also a passionate bf who could break out of his shell w Saitama and be himself with no lies. King can have someone to protect him, duh, someone who finally understands his weird sense of humor, and someone to shower him in the love and kindness he deserves when Saitama is in the mood to be all out like that w his affections. Plus he’s Saitama’s anchor and brings him back down when he’s super anxious and depressed and tells him what’s up that he needs to fix without sugarcoating it. Would def have a bunch of inside jokes and go on dates that are just staying inside playing video games all night. Domestic af. 10/10

Fubuki x Mizuki: my first wlw Fubuki ship! Hard to find but very good. Mizuki is this big ball of kindness, energy, and raw power that would make Fubuki go ‘Ohhhhhhh, big pretty lady make brain go brrr.’ I could see Mizuki grounding Fubuki when she’s in over her head, giving her random gifts bc she saw sum and thought of her, doing a marathon run and wildly waving at Fubuki in the crowd, and all around being a dependable woman confident in herself and in love with a mysterious esper. Prob a little shy when it comes to anything physical bc she loves Fubuki so much and is overwhelmed by the realness of being w her. Fubuki gives Mizuki advice on ‘acting like a proper hero’ or whatever and though Mizuki thinks she doesn’t need it, Fubuki still helps her a lot w her career and being taken more seriously by others. Would give Mizuki someone who loves her for who she is and would go wild on her in private when she can be open about her affection, would be someone Mizuki could exercise with and listen intently to Mizuki’s physical knowledge, and would absolutely bandage her when she’s all banged up. Hnghh love this ship. It’s only behind the FubuPsy ship juuuuust a little bc they haven’t met in canon so we can’t be sure about their interactions and stuff. 8.8/10, I love WOMEN

Batarou: how could I go this far without mentioning them?! They have SOOOO much tension in the centichoro fight, like come on. Both snarky assholes who are huge softies one the inside, Badd being the more logical one (still a himbo, tho) and Garou being the more chaotic one. Probably take forever to admit their feelings bc they’re so prideful and stupid <3 flirt through constant wrestling matches and it takes Genos saying ‘they should kiss already, they’re getting on his nerves’ for them to finally realize what’s up. (@rayadraws has a great au where Garou Genos and Badd are a chaotic friend squad and Genos is the only brain of the group, haha. Very good au y’all check it out!) Would constantly pick on each other affectionately and switch into concerned SO when the other is hurt like the big teddy bears they are. Raise Zenko together for sure. Garou would fumble being romantic and Badd would find it both hilarious and cute. 11/12

Zombie mask/Amai x Zombieman:

So. I don’t like Amai Mask and I used to hate him, BUT the webcomic and fic have really helped me calm down on him (he’s still a dick tho), so it’s easier to want to ship him and stuff. Bc of Amai’s anger issues and controlling behavior, I could see this relationship being super toxic and icky—but I think they have some form of understanding that pulls Amai back from being a complete dick, you know? Start off as fuck buddies and slowly form something else from spending companionable time together other than screwing. Zombieman pulls Amai back from his angry fits and soothes him over with his logic. Talk maaaaaad shit about heroes, but only when they’re alone because Zombieman knows Amai will talk loud af about the heroes they’re roasting and Zombie doesn’t wanna stop a fight from happening. Zombieman loves making Amai flustered and has a secret check list in his head of all the things that get Amai red faced. Loves to listen to Amai rant about things for hours and loves to watch his face go through almost cartoon like expressions as he talks. He won’t admit it, but Zombie loves to be spoiled by Amai’s shit tons of cash and often takes rides in Amai’s limos when he wants to smoke and think to himself. Amai has a hard time realizing how his feelings have changed, but gets hit hard with it when he wakes up to Zombie making them breakfast one morning while wearing Amai’s underwear. Amai also loves to spoil Zombie and takes him out to restaurants and buys him cool new weapons on the weekends. @batneko has pretty much gotten me into this ship and I strongly suggest looking at their works! 7.9/10

DemonKnight/Genos x Zero/Drive Knight: I’m pretty sure this used to be a crack ship before the past like 10 manga chapters—and now here we are! Not a fav bc 1. ZERO LEFT GENOS TO SELF DESTRUCT AFTER THEY COMBINED TO FORM THE FUCKING JET HE WAS JUST LIKE lol bye SO LIKE if he left him to die that’s super hard for me to forgive and ship grrr 2. Disregarding the manga’s canon and looking at the wc, while I love the little trip they went on where Zero demonstrated his abilities and helped Genos kill monsters, it’s super sus. He knew alllll of this info on Metal Knight and was super supportive and understanding when Genos said he needed time to think. Like,,,what are his intentions? We know so little about him—is he trying to trick Genos or was he being sincere? THAT STUFF ASIDE, they’re a really fun ship. They’re both huge fucking nerds and can keep up with their talk on robotics for hours, they’re both cyborgs so they understand each other’s pain, and they’re both super cool and angsty. I think they could really settle into a deep bond that can go platonic or romantic, just depends. Genos needs more ppl in his life so hell yeah! Plus, he can really let go with Zero bc they don’t have that teacher/student relationship and Zero, if he’s really a sincere and kind guy like in the wc, can be there for Genos and listen to him. Don’t have much to say on this ship other than @wellthisisembarrassing makes GORGEOUS art of them! 6.3/10

Webuiko/Suiko x Webigaza: YEAH I KNOW THEY HAVENT INTERACTED IN CANON AND WE DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT THEM BUT HEAR ME OUT. Webigaza—cool af determined cyborg idol who’s surprisingly down to earth when talking with Child Emperor. Suiko—sassy and honest fighter who doesn’t take shit and is very passionate. Suiko would go to talk to Web then immediately freak out bc aaaa she’s way prettier than she thought, she can’t do this! Web would have to gently encourage Suiko to talk and at first is like ‘ah man, must be an adoring fan, ugh I’m so tired. At least she’s hot’ but when Suiko snaps out of her shyness Web is like oh! She’s super cool wtf. Always bump into each other during fights and help each other get fixed up, Suiko using her muscle power to lift Web’s pieces (and give Web a great view of Suiko’s muscles holy SHIT) and Web would patch Suiko up. Not to be stereotypical, but they’re def a masc/femme couple. I love the idea of this ship soooo much and I really hope they interact! 6.6/10 only bc they haven’t met 😭😭😭 look them up on here! There’s some great art of them by a few blogs

Dr. Kuseno x Bang: pretty sure @baldyborg came up with this one! Super cute. Just two old dudes finding a nice friendship in each other, maybe after Bang helps carry Genos to Kuseno’s after a day of fighting. Bang would find Kuseno to be a very cute little nerd man and would be sooo impressed by Kuseno’s mad scientist skills. Kuseno would be super impressed when seeing Bang in action too. They’d prob talk as soon as they meet each other and Genos would be in the background like you guys it’s been an hour, please fix me I’m on the verge of death 🧍🏻Bang would give Kuseno advice on training techniques to teach Genos and advice on making his bodies more martial arts ready or sum, meanwhile Kuseno would give his take on how to be kinder to Garou so that Bang would learn to repair the relationship with a gentleness he’s seemingly lacking (yes I’m talking about the chapter where he and Garou start fighting and Bang is just not doing enough to reach out to Garou, he’s being a callous old man! So yeah I’m still mad about that). Genos and Saitama would prob be out on a date and Saitama would be like oh theres Bang, wonder what he’s doing? Then Kuseno would walk up and kiss Bang and Genos and Sai would be shocked like SIRS 👬 Genos would tell Bang he doesn’t need another adoptive dad and Bang would be like....ok.... I see them retiring in a cottage together and Bang would become a huge softie. Yes I’m actively ignoring chapter 141 of the wc, shut up. 7.6/10

TankTop master x Mumen: they have a nice friendship going on in the manga right now! Just bros supporting bros. Tank is the picture definition of a muscly himbo and Mumen is his cute passionate bf. Also workout buddies af!! Don’t have much to say other than pretty good ship, just not a fav. 5.2/10

To sum it up—

GenoSai: 2718873737839439/10, Batarou: 11/12, SonFlash: 10/11, KingSai: 10/10, FubuPsy: 9/10, Fubuki x Mizuki: 8.8/10, MumenSai: 8.4/10, ZombieMask: 7.9/10, Dr. Kuseno x Bang: 7.6/10, Speedal: 7.4/10, OneZon: 7/10, Webuiko: 6.6/10, DemonKnight: 6.3/10, Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: 6.1/10, TatsuKing: 6/10, TankTop Master x Mumen: 5.2/10, Mumarou: 4.3/10, FubuSai: 4/10, SonSai: 3/10, Genos x Sonic: 1.3/10, TatsuSai: 0/10, anyone x Puri: -1283828319833468282/10

If there’s any ships I left out, it’s bc I don’t know them, don’t wanna talk about them, or just don’t have an opinion strong enough. Also, I know there are some poly ships like Genos x Saitama x Fubuki, but I’ve read only one fic about that (it was pretty good, here’s the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406992 ) so I don’t feel like talking about it. Hope no ones offended! All my opinion here :)

[slashermom]

What are some of random HC’s you have about the Sinclair brothers? I need someone knowledgeable to spill the beans.

I am certainly not the most knowledgeable person here but thank you for giving me an opportunity to ‘spill the beans’ ♡

Bo

Gives really good advice when it comes down to it. Bo feels like he’s seen and been through it all so he’s pretty confident in his ability to tell you how it is and what you can do about it.

Is definitely the type to wipe his face aggressively and laugh at himself when he cries. “The fuck are you crying for dumbass?”

Loved to terrify his brothers when they were younger. Mostly because he was mad at them but he would think it was hilarious to sneak up behind Vincent and scare him silly.

Definitely made fun of Lester at school but gave a half-assed but oddly sincere apology when they got home.

Listens to heavy metal/rock when he’s working but listens to classic rock when he’s relaxing and/or drinking.

He always has something playing or keeping himself busy because he can’t get Trudy’s screams and the sight of Victor's body out of his head.

Is secretly very proud of Vincent. Deep, deep down. He has a lot of resentment towards him in a passive agreesive sort of way because of how their childhood went. But that’s his brother and he loves him and everything he’s accomplished.

Feel free to disagree with me here. I think it was most likely Bo’s idea to start killing. Just from the manipulative way he talks to Vincent. He seems very good at twisting and rationalizing things that aren’t remotely rational. As well as his set up in the basement under the service station. Gives me the heebie-jeebies. Let’s not forget the satisfaction he got from cutting Carley’s finger off.

Bo is the product of neglect, abuse, mistreatment, and abandonment. He carries these things deeply and they have affected his psyche in a horrific way. The way he was raised and was treated in the foster care system is why he’s as manipulative and violent as he is. The aggression and anger he was raised with is just about all he knows and that’s what fuels the flames of his rage.

Vincent

His art is only coping mechanism.

That’s the only thing that he has been able to hold onto his whole life, nobody can take that away from him.

Loves to read. Even tried his hand at writing but never fell in love with it enough to want to sit down and create anything.

Has a few hidden sketches of Bo. Mostly because he envies his brother's looks. Knowing that’s what he would have looked like if he had been dealt the right cards.

The most patient person you will ever meet. He just doesn’t see the point in getting rilled up over something that just needs more time.

Used to save leaflets and flowers to show his mom. Then would make leaf presses that Trudy would hang on the fridge.

Vincent has an overwhelming feeling of loneliness and feels alienated every since Trudy died.

While I do believe it was Bo’s idea to start taking lives, Vincent had no qualms about it. He definitely takes pride in his kills and has very little to no remorse about it. As we can see in House of Wax, he gets shit done and is more concentrated on finishing his art/work.

I mean, he got ahold of Wade and had him in the House of Wax by the time Dalton and Nick rolled into town.

Lester

(I have had really great discussions about Lester with @slash-em-up who is actually knowledgeable and you should go check her out. Go on, get! Go follow her now.)

Goofy. This man’s brain cells are all concentrated on being the biggest goof you have ever met.

Lester genuinely enjoys being around other people. It’s a good change of pace from his brothers. Is very sociable but it’s awkward. He just wants people to like him.

Isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knows a lot of random facts on certain things. That being said, he’s a fast learner. Put it in front of him he’ll figure it out one way or another. But this came with age. He had a hell of a time in elementary and middle school.

Loves to rough house Bo. Mostly because Vincent won’t react or just throws him like a sack of potatoes automatically. Bo will get red in the face and get rilled up, which makes Lester belly laugh.

Being several years younger than the twins and then Trudy getting sick, he was unfortunately neglected and left to his own devices. Which is what stunted his social and emotional skills.

But thankfully when the boys were spilt up into the system, he was with a decent family. Albeit not the most involved folks in his life, it was a better situation than what he came from.

Doesn’t care what anyone says. He likes his job. It’s honest work and it keeps him busy from engaging in what the twins have going on.

Also doesn’t like what they do. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth and he feels guilty about pointing what seem like good people down the washed-out road. But Bo tells him “You don’t gotta like it, just do as you’re told.” So he shuts up and does exactly that.

Lester doesn’t come back to the Sinclair house often. He has a very vivid memory and can tell you just about everything that happened in each room.

Other HC’s

Both Bo and Vincent got emancipated as soon as it was an option. Lester didn’t know that was a thing till Bo came a-knockin' asking where his little brother was.

Lester thinks Vincent’s art is amazing but won’t sit around watching or ask him too many questions because he thinks it’s boring. Bo could care less, that’s Vincent’s thing.

Bo takes a lot of pride in the fact that he taught Lester all he knows about cars. Which it’s worth mentioning that Bo taught himself most of what he knows and the rest he learned from the odd jobs he picked up at auto body shops as a teenager.

Vincent is the glue that holds the brothers together.

When Lester first found out that Bo smoked cigarettes, he took them and broke them in half right in front of Bo’s face. Which is how Lester got the scar by his ear.

If you touch Vincent’s neck when he’s not expecting it, he will turn into a turtle.

Lester used to play the recorder until it mysteriously went missing.

I’m sorry but not one of these assholes know how to cook.

[hlupdate]

Harry Styles isn’t exactly dressed down for lunch. He’s got a white floppy hat that Diana Ross might have won from Elton in a poker game at Cher’s mansion circa 1974, plus Gucci shades, a cashmere sweater, and blue denim bell-bottoms. His nail polish is pink and mint green. He’s also carrying his purse — no other word for it — a yellow patent-canvas bag with the logo “Chateau Marmont.” The tough old ladies who work at this Beverly Hills deli know him well. Gloria and Raisa dote on him, calling him “my love” and bringing him his usual tuna salad and iced coffee. He turns heads, to put it mildly, but nobody comes near because the waitresses hover around the booth protectively.

He was just a small-town English lad of 16 when he became his generation’s pop idol with One Direction. When the group went on hiatus, he struck out on his own with his brash 2017 solo debut, whose lead single was the magnificently over-the-top six-minute piano ballad “Sign of the Times.” Even people who missed out on One Direction were shocked to learn the truth: This pinup boy was a rock star at heart.

A quick highlight reel of Harry’s 2019 so far: He hosted the Met Gala with Lady Gaga, Serena Williams, Alessandro Michele, and Anna Wintour serving an eyebrow-raising black lace red-carpet look. He is the official face of a designer genderless fragrance, Gucci’s Mémoire d’une Odeur. When James Corden had an all-star dodgeball match on The Late Late Show, Harry got spiked by a hard serve from Michelle Obama, making him perhaps the first Englishman ever hit in the nads on TV by a First Lady.

Closer to his heart, he brought down the house at this year’s Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ceremony with his tribute to his friend and idol Stevie Nicks. “She’s always there for you,” Harry said in his speech. “She knows what you need: advice, a little wisdom, a blouse, a shawl.” He added, “She’s responsible for more running mascara — including my own — than all the bad dates in history.” (Backstage, Nicks accidentally referred to Harry’s former band as “’NSync.” Hey, a goddess can get away with that sort of thing.)

Harry has been the world’s It boy for nearly a decade now. The weirdest thing about him? He loves being this guy. In a style of fast-lane celebrity that takes a ruthless toll on the artist’s personality, creativity, sanity, Harry is almost freakishly at ease. He has managed to grow up in public with all his boyish enthusiasm intact, not to mention his manners. He’s dated a string of high-profile women — but he never gets caught uttering any of their names in public, much less shading any of them. Instead of going the usual superstar-pop route — en vogue producers, celebrity duets, glitzy club beats — he’s gone his own way, and gotten more popular than ever. He’s putting the finishing touches on his new album, full of the toughest, most soulful songs he’s written yet. As he explains, “It’s all about having sex and feeling sad.”

The Harry Charm is a force of nature, and it can be almost frightening to witness in action. The most startling example might be a backstage photo from February taken with one of his heroes, Van Morrison. You have never seen a Van picture like this one. He’s been posing for photos for 50 years, and he’s been refusing to crack a smile in nearly all of them. Until he met Harry — for some reason, Van beams like a giddy schoolgirl. What did Harry do to him? “I was tickling him behind his back,” Harry confides. “Somebody sent me that photo — I think his tour manager took it. When I saw it, I felt like John Travolta in Pulp Fiction opening the case with the gold light shining. I was like, ‘Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t show this to anyone.’”

In interviews, Harry has always tended to coast on that charm, simply because he can. In his teens, he was in public every minute and became adept at guarding every scrap of his privacy. But these days, he’s finding out he has things he wants to say. He’s more confident about thinking out loud and seeing what happens. “Looser” is how he puts it. “More open. I’m discovering how much better it makes me feel to be open with friends. Feeling that vulnerability, rather than holding everything in.”

Like a lot of people his age, he’s asking questions about culture, gender, identity, new ideas about masculinity and sexuality. “I feel pretty lucky to have a group of friends who are guys who would talk about their emotions and be really open,” he says. “My friend’s dad said to me, ‘You guys are so much better at it than we are. I never had friends I could really talk to. It’s good that you guys have each other because you talk about real shit. We just didn’t.’”

It’s changed how he approaches his songs. “For me, it doesn’t mean I’ll sit down and be like, ‘This is what I have for dinner, and this is where I eat every day, and this is what I do before I go to bed,’” he says. “But I will tell you that I can be really pathetic when I’m jealous. Feeling happier than I’ve ever been, sadder than I’ve ever been, feeling sorry for myself, being mad at myself, being petty and pitiful — it feels really different to share that.”

At times, Harry sounds like an ordinary 25-year-old figuring his shit out, which, of course, he is. (Harry and I got to know each other last year, when he got in touch after reading one of my books, though I’d already been writing about his music for years.) It’s strange to hear him talk about shedding his anxieties and doubts, since he’s always come across as one of the planet’s most confident people. “While I was in the band,” he says, “I was constantly scared I might sing a wrong note. I felt so much weight in terms of not getting things wrong. I remember when I signed my record deal and I asked my manager, ‘What happens if I get arrested? Does it mean the contract is null and void?’ Now, I feel like the fans have given me an environment to be myself and grow up and create this safe space to learn and make mistakes.”

We slip out the back and spend a Saturday afternoon cruising L.A. in his 1972 silver Jaguar E-type. The radio doesn’t work, so we just sing “Old Town Road.” He marvels, “‘Bull riding and boobies’ — that is potentially the greatest lyric in any song ever.” Harry used to be pop’s mystery boy, so diplomatic and tight-lipped. But as he opens up over time, telling his story, he reaches the point where he’s pitching possible headlines for this profile. His best: “Soup, Sex, and Sun Salutations.”

How did he get to this new place? As it turns out, the journey involves some heartbreak. Some guidance from David Bowie. Some Transcendental Meditation. And more than a handful of magic mushrooms. But mostly, it comes down to a curious kid who can’t decide whether to be the world’s most ardently adored pop star, or a freaky artiste. So he decides to be both.

Two things about English rock stars never change: They love Southern California, and they love cars. A few days after Harry proclaimed the genius of “Old Town Road,” we’re in a different ride — a Tesla — cruising the Pacific Coast Highway while Harry sings along to the radio. “Californiaaaaaa!” he yells from behind the wheel as we whip past Zuma Beach. “It sucks!” There’s a surprising number of couples along the beach who seem to be arguing. We speculate on which ones are breaking up and which are merely having the talk. “Ah, yes, the talk,” Harry says dreamily. “Ye olde chat.”

Harry is feeling the smooth Seventies yacht-rock grooves today, blasting Gerry Rafferty, Pablo Cruise, Hall and Oates. When I mention that Nina Simone once did a version of “Rich Girl,” he needs to hear it right away. He counters by blowing my mind with Donny Hathaway’s version of John Lennon’s “Jealous Guy.”

Harry raves about a quintessential SoCal trip he just tried: a “cold sauna,” a process that involves getting locked in an ice chamber. His eyelashes froze. We stop for a smoothie (“It’s basically ice cream”) and his favorite pepper-intensive wheatgrass shot. It goes down like a dose of battery acid. “That’ll add years to your life,” he assures me.

We’re on our way to Shangri-La studios in Malibu, founded by the Band back in the 1970s, now owned by Rick Rubin. It’s where Harry made some of the upcoming album, and as we walk in, he grins at the memory. “Ah, yes,” he says. “Did a lot of mushrooms in here.”

Psychedelics have started to play a key role in his creative process. “We’d do mushrooms, lie down on the grass, and listen to Paul McCartney’s Ram in the sunshine,” he says. “We’d just turn the speakers into the yard.” The chocolate edibles were kept in the studio fridge, right next to the blender. “You’d hear the blender going, and think, ‘So we’re all having frozen margaritas at 10 a.m. this morning.’” He points to a corner: “This is where I was standing when we were doing mushrooms and I bit off the tip of my tongue. So I was trying to sing with all this blood gushing out of my mouth. So many fond memories, this place.”

It’s not mere rock-star debauchery — it’s emblematic of his new state of mind. You get the feeling this is why he enjoys studios so much. After so many years making One Direction albums while touring, always on the run, he finally gets to take his time and embrace the insanity of it all. “We were here for six weeks in Malibu, without going into the city,” he says. “People would bring their dogs and kids. We’d take a break to play cornhole tournaments. Family values!” But it’s also the place where he has proudly bled for his art. “Mushrooms and Blood. Now there’s an album title.”

Some of the engineers come over to catch up on gossip. Harry gestures out the window to the Pacific waves, where the occasional nude revelry might have happened, and where the occasional pair of pants got lost. “There was one night where we’d been partying a bit and ended up going down to the beach and I lost all my stuff, basically,” he says. “I lost all my clothes. I lost my wallet. Maybe a month later, somebody found my wallet and mailed it back, anonymously. I guess it just popped out of the sand. But what’s sad is, I lost my favorite mustard corduroy flares.” A moment of silence is held for the corduroy flares.

Recording in the studio today is Brockhampton, the self-proclaimed “world’s greatest boy band.” Harry says hi to all the Brockhampton guys, which takes a while since there seem to be a few dozen of them. “We’re together all the time,” one tells Harry out in the yard. “We see each other all day, every day.” He pauses. “You know how it is.”

Harry breaks into a dry grin. “Yes, I know how it is.”

One Direction made three of this century’s biggest and best pop albums in a rush — Midnight Memories, Four and Made in the A.M. Yet they cut those records on tour, ducking into the nearest studio when they had a day off. 1D were a unique mix of five different musical personalities: Harry, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, and Liam Payne. But the pace took its toll. Malik quit in the middle of a tour, immediately after a show in Hong Kong. The band announced its hiatus in August 2015.

It’s traditional for boy-band singers, as they go solo and grow up, to renounce their pop past. Everybody remembers George Michael setting his leather jacket on fire, or Sting quitting the Police to make jazz records. This isn’t really Harry Styles’ mentality. “I know it’s the thing that always happens. When somebody gets out of a band, they go, ‘That wasn’t me. I was held back.’ But it was me. And I don’t feel like I was held back at all. It was so much fun. If I didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t have done it. It’s not like I was tied to a radiator.”

Whenever Harry mentions One Direction — never by name, always “the band” or “the band I was in” — he uses the past tense. It is my unpleasant duty to ask: Does he see 1D as over? “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think I’d ever say I’d never do it again, because I don’t feel that way. If there’s a time when we all really want to do it, that’s the only time for us to do it, because I don’t think it should be about anything else other than the fact that we’re all like, ‘Hey, this was really fun. We should do this again.’ But until that time, I feel like I’m really enjoying making music and experimenting. I enjoy making music this way too much to see myself doing a full switch, to go back and do that again. Because I also think if we went back to doing things the same way, it wouldn’t be the same, anyway.”

When the band stopped, did he take those friendships with him? “Yeah, I think so,” he says. “Definitely. Because above all else, we’re the people who went through that. We’re always going to have that, even if we’re not the closest. And the fact is, just because you’re in a band with someone doesn’t mean you have to be best friends. That’s not always how it works. Just because Fleetwood Mac fight, that doesn’t mean they’re not amazing. I think even in the disagreements, there’s always a mutual respect for each other — we did this really cool thing together, and we’ll always have that. It’s too important to me to ever be like, ‘Oh, that’s done.’ But if it happens, it will happen for the right reasons.”

If the intensity of the Harry fandom ever seems mysterious to you, there’s a live clip you might want to investigate, from the summer of 2018. Just search the phrase “Tina, she’s gay.” In San Jose, on one of the final nights of his tour, Harry spots a fan with a homemade sign: “I’m Gonna Come Out to My Parents Because of You!” He asks the fan her name (she says it’s Grace) and her mother’s name (Tina). He asks the audience for silence because he has an important announcement to make: “Tina! She’s gaaaaay!” Then he has the entire crowd say it together. Thousands of strangers start yelling “Tina, she’s gay,” and every one of them clearly means it — it’s a heavy moment, definitely not a sound you forget after you hear it. Then Harry sings “What Makes You Beautiful.” (Of course, the way things work now, the clip went viral within minutes. So did Grace’s photo of Tina giving a loving thumbs-up to her now-out teenage daughter. Grace and Tina attended Harry’s next show together.)

Harry likes to cultivate an aura of sexual ambiguity, as overt as the pink polish on his nails. He’s dated women throughout his life as a public figure, yet he has consistently refused to put any kind of label on his sexuality. On his first solo tour, he frequently waved the pride, bi, and trans flags, along with the Black Lives Matter flag. In Philly, he waved a rainbow flag he borrowed from a fan up front: “Make America Gay Again.” One of the live fan favorites: “Medicine,” a guitar jam that sounds a bit like the Grateful Dead circa Europe ’72, but with a flamboyantly pansexual hook: “The boys and girls are in/I mess around with them/And I’m OK with it.”

He’s always had a flair for flourishes like this, since the 1D days. An iconic clip from November 2014: Harry and Liam are on a U.K. chat show. The host asks the oldest boy-band fan-bait question in the book: What do they look for in a date? “Female,” Liam quips. “That’s a good trait.” Harry shrugs. “Not that important.” Liam is taken aback. The host is in shock. On tour in the U.S. that year, he wore a Michael Sam football jersey, in support of the first openly gay player drafted by an NFL team. He’s blown up previously unknown queer artists like King Princess and Muna.

What do those flags onstage mean to him? “I want to make people feel comfortable being whatever they want to be,” he says. “Maybe at a show you can have a moment of knowing that you’re not alone. I’m aware that as a white male, I don’t go through the same things as a lot of the people that come to the shows. I can’t claim that I know what it’s like, because I don’t. So I’m not trying to say, ‘I understand what it’s like.’ I’m just trying to make people feel included and seen.”

On tour, he had an End Gun Violence sticker on his guitar; he added a Black Lives Matter sticker, as well as the flag. “It’s not about me trying to champion the cause, because I’m not the person to do that,” he says. “It’s just about not ignoring it, I guess. I was a little nervous to do that because the last thing I wanted was for it to feel like I was saying, ‘Look at me! I’m the good guy!’ I didn’t want anyone who was really involved in the movement to think, ‘What the fuck do you know?’ But then when I did it, I realized people got it. Everyone in that room is on the same page and everyone knows what I stand for. I’m not saying I understand how it feels. I’m just trying to say, ‘I see you.’”

At one of his earliest solo shows, in Stockholm, he announced, “If you are black, if you are white, if you are gay, if you are straight, if you are transgender — whoever you are, whoever you want to be, I support you. I love every single one of you.” “It’s a room full of accepting people.… If you’re someone who feels like an outsider, you’re not always in a big crowd like that,” he says. “It’s not about, ‘Oh, I get what it’s like,’ because I don’t. For example, I go walking at night before bed most of the time. I was talking about that with a female friend and she said, ‘Do you feel safe doing that?’ And I do. But when I walk, I’m more aware that I feel OK to walk at night, and some of my friends wouldn’t. I’m not saying I know what it feels like to go through that. It’s just being aware.”

‘Man cannot live by coffee alone,” Harry says. “But he will give it a damn good try.” He sips his iced Americano — not his first today, or his last. He’s back behind the wheel, on a mission to yet another studio — but this time for actual work. Today it’s string overdubs. Harry is dressed in Gucci from head to toe, except for one item of clothing: a ratty Seventies rock T-shirt he proudly scavenged from a vintage shop. It says “Commander Quaalude.”

On the drive over, he puts on the jazz pianist Bill Evans — “Peace Piece,” from 1959, which is the wake-up tone on his phone. He just got into jazz during a long sojourn in Japan. He likes to find places to hide out and be anonymous: For his first album, he decamped to Jamaica. Over the past year, he spent months roaming Japan.

In February, he spent his 25th birthday sitting by himself in a Tokyo cafe, reading Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. “I love Murakami,” he says. “He’s one of my favorites. Reading didn’t really used to be my thing. I had such a short attention span. But I was dating someone who gave me some books; I felt like I had to read them because she’d think I was a dummy if I didn’t read them.”

A friend gave him Murakami’s Norwegian Wood. “It was the first book, maybe ever, where all I wanted to do all day was read this,” he says. “I had a very Murakami birthday because I ended up staying in Tokyo on my own. I had grilled fish and miso soup for breakfast, then I went to this cafe. I sat and drank tea and read for five hours.”

In the studio, he’s overseeing the string quartet. He has the engineers play T. Rex’s “Cosmic Dancer” for them, to illustrate the vibe he’s going for. You can see he enjoys being on this side of the glass, sitting at the Neve board, giving his instructions to the musicians. After a few run-throughs, he presses the intercom button to say, “Yeah, it’s pretty T. Rex. Best damn strings I ever heard.” He buzzes again to add, “And you’re all wonderful people.”

He’s curated his own weird enclave of kindred spirits to collaborate with, like producers Jeff Bhasker and Tyler Johnson. His guitarist Mitch Rowland was working at an L.A. pizza shop when Harry met him. They started writing songs for the debut; Rowland didn’t quit his job until two weeks into the sessions. One of his closest collaborators is also one of his best friends: Tom Hull, a.k.a. Kid Harpoon, a longtime cohort of Florence and the Machine. Hull is an effusive Brit with a heart-on-sleeve personality. Harry calls him “my emotional rock.” Hull calls him “Gary.”

Hull was the one who talked him into taking a course on Transcendental Meditation at David Lynch’s institute — beginning each day with 20 minutes of silence, which doesn’t always come naturally to either of them. “He’s got this wise-beyond-his-years timelessness about him,” Hull says. “That’s why he went on a whole emotional exploration with these songs.” He’s 12 years older, with a wife and kids in Scotland, and talks about Harry like an irreverent but doting big brother.

Last year, Harry was in the gossip columns dating the French model Camille Rowe; they split up last summer after a year together. “He went through this breakup that had a big impact on him,” Hull says. “I turned up on Day One in the studio, and I had these really nice slippers on. His ex-girlfriend that he was really cut up about, she gave them to me as a present — she bought slippers for my whole family. We’re still close friends with her. I thought, ‘I like these slippers. Can I wear them — is that weird?’

“So I turn up at Shangri-La the first day and literally within the first half-hour, he looks at me and says, ‘Where’d you get those slippers? They’re nice.’ I had to say, ‘Oh, um, your ex-girlfriend got them for me.’ He said, ‘Whaaaat? How could you wear those?’ He had a whole emotional journey about her, this whole relationship. But I kept saying, ‘The best way of dealing with it is to put it in these songs you’re writing.’”

True to his code of gallant discretion, Harry doesn’t say her name at any point. But he admits the songs are coming from personal heartbreak. “It’s not like I’ve ever sat and done an interview and said, ‘So I was in a relationship, and this is what happened,’” he says. “Because, for me, music is where I let that cross over. It’s the only place, strangely, where it feels right to let that cross over.”

The new songs are certainly charged with pain. “The stars didn’t align for them to be a forever thing,” Hull says. “But I told him that famous Iggy Pop quote where he says, ‘I only ever date women who are going to fuck me up, because that’s where the songs are.’ I said, ‘You’re 24, 25 years old, you’re in the eligible-bachelor category. Just date amazing women, or men, or whatever, who are going to fuck you up, and explore and have an adventure and let it affect you and write songs about it.’”

His band is full of indie rockers who’ve gotten swept up in Hurricane Harry. Before becoming his iconic drum goddess, Sarah Jones played in New Young Pony Club, a London band fondly remembered by a few dozen of us. Rowland and Jones barely knew anything about One Direction before they met Harry — the first time they heard “Story of My Life” was when he asked them to play it. Their conversation is full of references to Big Star or Guided by Voices or the Nils Lofgren guitar solo in Neil Young���s “Speakin’ Out.” This is a band full of shameless rock geeks, untainted by industry professionalism.

In the studio, while making the album, Harry kept watching a vintage Bowie clip on his phone — a late-Nineties TV interview I’d never seen. As he plays it for me, he recites along — he’s got the rap memorized. “Never play to the gallery,” Bowie advises. “Never work for other people in what you do.” For Harry, this was an inspiring pep talk — a reminder not to play it safe. As Bowie says, “If you feel safe in the area that you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you are capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.”

He got so obsessive about Joni Mitchell and her 1971 classic Blue, he went on a quest. “I was in a big Joni hole,” he says. “I kept hearing the dulcimer all over Blue. So I tracked down the lady who built Joni’s dulcimers in the Sixties.” He found her living in Culver City. “She said, ‘Come and see me,’” Hull says. “We turn up at her house and he said, ‘How do you even play a dulcimer?’ She gave us a lesson. Then she got a bongo and we were all jamming with these big Cheshire Cat grins.” She built the dulcimer Harry plays on the new album. “Joni Mitchell and Van Morrison, those are my two favorites,” he says. “Blue and Astral Weeks are just the ultimate in terms of songwriting. Melody-wise, they’re in their own lane.”

He’s always been the type to go overboard with his fanboy enthusiasms, ever since he was a kid and got his mind blown by Pulp Fiction. “I watched it when I was probably too young,” he admits. “But when I was 13, I saved up money from my paper route to buy a ‘Bad Motherfucker’ wallet. Just a stupid white kid in the English countryside with that wallet.” While in Japan, he got obsessively into Paul McCartney and Wings, especially London Town and Back to the Egg. “In Tokyo I used to go to a vinyl bar, but the bartender didn’t have Wings records. So I brought him Back to the Egg. ‘Arrow Through Me,’ that was the song I had to hear every day when I was in Japan.”

He credits meditation for helping to loosen him up. “I was such a skeptic going in,” he says. “But I think meditation has helped with worrying about the future less, and the past less. I feel like I take a lot more in—things that used to pass by me because I was always rushing around. It’s part of being more open and talking with friends. It’s not always the easiest to go in a room and say, ‘I made a mistake and it made me feel like this, and then I cried a bunch.’ But that moment where you really let yourself be in that zone of being vulnerable, you reach this feeling of openness. That’s when you feel like, ‘Oh, I’m fucking living, man.’”

After quite a few hours of recording the string quartet, a bottle of Casamigos tequila is opened. Commander Quaalude pours the drinks, then decides what the song needs now is a gaggle of nonsingers bellowing the chorus. “Muppet vocals” is how he describes it. He drags everyone in sight to crowd around the mics. Between takes, he wanders over to the piano to play Harry Nilsson’s “Gotta Get Up.” One of the choir members, creative director Molly Hawkins, is the friend who gave him the Murakami novel. “I think every man should read Norwegian Wood,” she says. “Harry’s the only man I’ve given it to who actually read it.”

It’s been a hard day’s night in the studio, but after hours, everyone heads to a dive bar on the other side of town to see Rowland play a gig. He’s sitting in with a local bar band, playing bass. Harry drives around looking for the place, taking in the sights of downtown L.A. (“Only a city as narcissistic as L.A. would have a street called Los Angeles Street,” he says.) He strolls in and leans against the bar in the back of the room. It’s an older crowd, and nobody here has any clue who he is. He’s entirely comfortable lurking incognito in a dim gin joint. After the gig, as the band toasts with PBRs, an old guy in a ball cap strolls over and gives Rowland a proud bear hug. It’s his boss from the pizza shop.

In the wee hours, Harry drives down a deserted Sunset Boulevard, his favorite time of night to explore the city streets, arguing over which is the best Steely Dan album. He insists that Can’t Buy a Thrill is better than Countdown to Ecstasy (wrongly), and seals his case by turning it up and belting “Midnight Cruiser” with truly appalling gusto. Tonight Hollywood is full of bright lights, glitzy clubs, red carpets, but the prettiest pop star in town is behind the wheel, singing along with every note of the sax solo from “Dirty Work.”

A few days later, on the other side of the world: Harry’s pad in London is lavish, yet very much a young single dude’s lair. Over here: a wall-size framed Sex Pistols album cover. Over there: a vinyl copy of Stevie Nicks’ The Other Side of the Mirror, casually resting on the floor. He’s having a cup of tea with his mum, Anne, the spitting image of her son, all grace and poise. “We’re off to the pub,” he tells her. “We’re going to talk some shop.” She smiles sweetly. “Talk some shit, probably,” says Anne.

We head off to his local, sloshing through the rain. He’s wearing a Spice World hoodie and savoring the soggy London-osity of the day. “Ah, Londres!” he says grandly. “I missed this place.” He wants to sit at a table outside, even though it’s pouring, and we chat away the afternoon over a pot of mint tea and a massive plate of fish and chips. When I ask for toast, the waitress brings out a loaf of bread roughly the size of a wheelbarrow. “Welcome to England,” Harry says.

He’s always had a fervent female fandom, and, admirably, he’s never felt a need to pretend he doesn’t love it that way. “They’re the most honest — especially if you’re talking about teenage girls, but older as well,” he says. “They have that bullshit detector. You want honest people as your audience. We’re so past that dumb outdated narrative of ‘Oh, these people are girls, so they don’t know what they’re talking about.’ They’re the ones who know what they’re talking about. They’re the people who listen obsessively. They fucking own this shit. They’re running it.”

He doesn’t have the uptightness some people have about sexual politics, or about identifying as a feminist. “I think ultimately feminism is thinking that men and women should be equal, right? People think that if you say ‘I’m a feminist,’ it means you think men should burn in hell and women should trample on their necks. No, you think women should be equal. That doesn’t feel like a crazy thing to me. I grew up with my mum and my sister — when you grow up around women, your female influence is just bigger. Of course men and women should be equal. I don’t want a lot of credit for being a feminist. It’s pretty simple. I think the ideals of feminism are pretty straightforward.”

His audience has a reputation for ferocity, and the reputation is totally justified. At last summer’s show at Madison Square Garden, the floor was wobbling during “Kiwi” — I’ve been seeing shows there since the 1980s, but I’d never seen that happen before. (The only other time? His second night.) His bandmates admit they feared for their lives, but Harry relished it. “To me, the greatest thing about the tour was that the room became the show,” he says. “It’s not just me.” He sips his tea. “I’m just a boy, standing in front of a room, asking them to bear with him.”

That evening, Fleetwood Mac take the stage in London — a sold-out homecoming gig at Wembley Stadium, the last U.K. show of their tour. Needless to say, their most devoted fan is in the house. Harry has brought a date: his mother, her first Fleetwood Mac show. He’s also with his big sister Gemma, bandmates Rowland and Jones, a couple of friends.

He’s in hyperactive-host mode, buzzing around his cozy VIP box, making sure everyone’s champagne glass is topped off at all times. As soon as the show begins, Harry’s up on his feet, singing along (“Tell me, tell me liiiiies!”) and cracking jokes. You can tell he feels free — as if his radar is telling him there aren’t snoopers or paparazzi watching. (He’s correct. This is a rare public appearance where nobody spots him and no photos leak online.) It’s family night. His friend Mick Fleetwood wilds out on the drum solo. “Imagine being that cool,” Gemma says.

Midway through the show, Harry’s demeanor suddenly changes. He gets uncharacteristically solemn and quiet, sitting down by himself and focusing intently on the stage. It’s the first time all night he’s taken a seat. He’s in a different zone than he was in a few minutes ago. But he’s seen many Fleetwood Mac shows, and he knows where they are in the set. It’s time for “Landslide.” He sits with his chin in hand, his eyes zeroing in on Stevie Nicks. As usual, she introduces her most famous song with the story of how she wrote it when she was just a lass of 27.

But Stevie has something else she wants to share. She tells the stadium crowd, “I’d like to dedicate this to my little muse, Harry Styles, who brought his mother tonight. Her name is Anne. And I think you did a really good job raising Harry, Anne. Because he’s really a gentleman, sweet and talented, and, boy, that appeals to me. So all of you, this is for you.”

As Stevie starts to sing “Landslide” — “I’ve been afraid of changing, because I built my life around youuuu” — Anne walks over to where Harry sits. She crouches down behind him, reaches her arms around him tightly. Neither of them says a word. They listen together and hold each other close to the very end of the song. Everybody in Wembley is singing along with Stevie, but these two are in a world of their own.

[hinaichi]

I need to get this off my chest or I’m going to go lose it. Sorry for ridiculously long post undercut. 

OKAY so I’ve been a program teacher and sub teacher for almost 5 years now. I’ve always worked with elementary aged kids and honestly I love my job! There are days where I’m like “wow i don’t want any kids” to “I love these little chickens!” (inside joke between me and the former 5th graders who loved my ghost stories but were terrified of them! lol) It’s always a test of patience and I feel like it’s helped me develop as a person. I’ve created some deep bonds with a few of them. Many who come up to me seeking advice or help with their anime art!  Let me cut to the chase before this becomes an autobiography. I teach in the US and as the world knows we aren’t doing too good. Our politics are the biggest jokes of the century and the country is MAD. We want justice, equality, health reassurance and much more that seem very reasonable to me! We are in the process of change and we are living this massive historic moments that generations from now will talk about.  We are living in a pandemic, an outbreak of a global disease. The world was closed for months! The last few months were honestly hell on Earth. Everyday was a threat to not only our health but our jobs! Programs aren’t deemed as essential so we had to work 10x harder to PROVE that these kids needed us. Every meeting was bitter and stressful. I began to think damn I’m better off dead then living through this. Everyday felt terrible. To top it off we were also told we might not qualify for unemployment, our rent wasn’t going to be frozen, and going outside was life or death. I wish i was making this up lol but I’m not! I thought we were going to be homeless or go hungry! I saved up so much because I was scared of the unknown. It came down to a point where our program founders chilled down and stop putting so much pressure on us. I couldn’t sleep well for days. I cried almost every day. I hated myself and my worth as a person. I felt like I was not good enough and could never be good enough. The emotional damage this shit did is irreparable but not unmanageable. After meeting with some psychologists I learned to manage the stress, anxiety, and those depressive days. I felt calm. Like floating in the ocean calm. I got over the fear of drowning but I wasn’t out of danger, so to say.  Then our contracts end and we are told summer camps are cancelled and the after school for the next school year is in the air. As in we don’t know if we’ll have a job anytime soon! As you can imagine I was stressed once again but not AS stressed because I have some savings. I can’t live off of it but I can manage just in case unemployment denies me. So recently I’ve applied for unemployment and YAY I got approved. One less thing to worry about. I took this opportunity as a positive thing. I can finally apply for grad school! I have time to study for the exams, prepare my documents, and so forth.  At first I was bummed out about not seeing my students but now I’m accepting it! I haven’t had a real vacation in over 15 years. I look like I aged 5 years in a manner of a few months. I needed this to heal and recover.  Fast forward, I got a message saying we are going to work again but we don’t know exactly when. I was asked my opinion on the matter. I’ll be honest folks I live in a neighborhood where people PARTY HARD till 4 or 7am. People are like what’s social distancing I don’t know her?? No masks are on and no gloves. The state is opening up so everyone is like COVID-19 IS GOVERNMENT LIES FUCK YOU AND YOUR SAFETY.  Let me tell you...I know so many people who literally just lost a loved one to covid-19. My great uncle from my father’s side, my aunt’s father, one of my friends father have died due to the virus. I have a group of relatives stuck in quarantine because they got sick. I have a medical condition that could make my road to recovery, if I do get covid, very challenging. I live with relatives that have fragile health conditions.  With all of these factors my mind went into full blown ANXIETY mood. I swear it felt like I was being told to go die. SUMMER IN NEW YORK IN THE HOOD IS THE WORST TIME OF YEAR. PEOPLE ARE OUTSIDE 24/7 WITHOUT PROTECTION. I LITERALLY KNOW A FEW PEOPLE WHO TESTED POSITIVE FOR COVID-19 CHILLING IN FRONT OF THE BUILDING WITH NO PROTECTIVE GEAR. How the hell am I supposed to feel confident working in the summer??? WHEN WE MIGHT NOT EVEN HAVE A BUILDING TO BE IN??? WE were told we might be taking kids to the park where parents will come to pick them up there. What kind of bull is this??? After my supervisor made a heartwarming speech about how grateful she is to have this team. How the flying flippin heck am I supposed to tell her how I really feel? I have a serious problem with telling people NO. I get intensely guilt driven when I tell people no especially after saying something so nice about us. I know her intentions weren’t to guilt us into agreeing but I FEEL IT. I feel like i’m risking my health for something that’s so half ASSED. I hate it. I hate the terrified look I got from my mother when I told her the news. Because I’m not only risking my health but my own parents and the children of the program. I’m so upset that we were told this could affect the future of the program and our employment if we deny the job.  Nothing is set in stone until the founders give their final speech.  So for now I’m still unemployed until we get the news... I’m so frustrated and stressed. I literally hate myself so much for feeling this way when everyone else on the team looked so happy to do it. 

[themusicplayedherlife]

Unrequited (Part 3)

pairings: eventual!bucky barnes x reader; crushing!reader x steve rogers; crushing!bucky barnes x natasha romanoff; others

characters: reader, bucky barnes, clint barton, natasha romanoff, pietro maximoff

word count: 3k+

warnings: maybe a little angst?, a little bit of anxious/nervous reader, some cussing

a/n: welcome to the third chapter of this slow burn story, lol.

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Sometimes you wonder why you are the way that you are. Your mom, Pietro, and Natasha are constantly reminding you that nothing is wrong with you, but after what happened last night, you’re utterly and completely convinced they’re wrong. You’re not confident like Natasha, you’re not outgoing like Pietro, and you’re not witty like your parents. You’re a mess.

If someone were to ask you what word in the dictionary you would use to describe yourself as, you wouldn’t have to look that far to find: awkward—

awk·ward /ˈôkwərd/

adjective

embarrassing or inconvenient; caused by lack of social grace: an awkward moment.  

Synonyms: unpleasant, trying, difficult; uncomfortable, ticklish, touchy.

Thanks for the lovely definition and synonyms google. Really appreciate it.

—An embarrassing, awkward dumb mess. Apparently.

If you had their social skills, you probably wouldn’t be avoiding Bucky and Steve like you are now. Maybe you wouldn’t have blurted out what you did. And maybe you would still have a tutor for Pym’s stupID CLASS YOU’RE BOUND TO FAIL!

You hurry your steps as frustration bubbles inside of you. There’s only one place on this whole forsaken campus that’ll make you feel better—the museum.

It looms over a courtyard where the art students like to chill and hang out during the spring and summer, sometimes during fall too. Not many other students venture out here, preferring to stay in their own quadrant within campus, but sometimes you’d spot a wild major visiting the museum for whatever reason.

Today, you hope no one decides to visit the museum. You prefer it when it’s quiet.

You enter the building and with every exhale, the frustration leaves your being.

“Hey, Clint,” you greet the security guard who is about your age, maybe a little older.

His brown, almost blondish hair is gelled back and he has his usual dopey grin, that you’ve come to realize, is reserved for you and a hand few coworkers he likes. “Hey, thought you weren’t due for another few days.”

“Just having one of those days”

His face softens in understanding and he nods. “Say no more. I’ll make sure to keep the others quiet.”

You beam appreciatively, even though he doesn’t have to do that, you know he will for you. “Thanks, Clint.”

You walk deeper into the museum, taking in the different art all by students of the university—graduates and current. You take a left turn at the next hall and find yourself in the best room in all of the museum. The lights are dim here compared to the other rooms. Soft, calming music plays through the speakers and on the stark white wall, a projection of pictures of people all over New York plays. You sit at the lone bench in the room, taking in the picture of an elderly couple sharing a bench, huddled and smiling radiantly at one another.

The door to the room opens, but you hardly pay it any mind. It’s most likely Clint doing his rounds.

The picture changes to a man sitting outside of a cafe, a wooden cane at his side, a book in his hands, and a large golden retriever at his feet. They both look content and serene, nothing like the quick paced city you’ve come to know and love.

The bench creaks and you keep your eyes forward, hoping that whoever entered wouldn’t interrupt your watching or make noise, thankfully, they don’t.

Not until the next slide anyway--two men are in a hospital room, one sickly with a bald head and thin frame and the other bulky with a bald head and an overgrown beard. Their hands are intertwined and they’re leaning towards each other, eyes closed and calm in what you could only assume is a stressful situation.

“Love,” he says, his voice sending your heart in a panic and head snapping in his direction. Seriously? How did he find you here of all places?!

You stare at Bucky wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to book it out of there, but that’d be more embarrassing than last night and it’d alert Clint, who would blow things out of proportion.

He turns away from the projection to look at you, stormy eyes meeting yours with a slight raise of an eyebrow. He tilts his head towards the wall, eyes never leaving yours. “Love. That’s what this exhibit is about, isn’t it?”

“What are you doing here?” you manage to ask, ignoring his question.

“I like to come here when I have time. What are you doing here?”

“Same,” you say dumbly, quickly looking away from him, trying to focus on the pictures playing in front of you, but they’re no longer registering in your mind, no matter how many times your eyes sweep across the makeshift screen.

“I’ve never seen you here before. Are you usually here at this time?”

Why is he still talking to you? Is he trying to lull you into a false sense of security and then ask you about Steve? Fuck. Is it too late to bolt now? “Yeah.”

“I usually come later in the day.”

“Oh.”

Silence falls between the two of you, the music suddenly seeming louder than before even though it’s a calming instrumental.

You run a nail up and down your arm, not harshly, but firm enough for it to leave white trails.

He clears his throat. “So, Steve, huh?”

You jump to your feet, your nail digging into your skin with a harsh sting and bench screeching under the strain of his weight and your sudden movement.

Blue eyes widen, and he quickly gets to his feet. “Hey—“

“Can you—let’s not—please.” Your voice is desperate and small, embarrassment licking at your skin and leaving heat in its wake.

He raises his hands in front of him to pacify you. “I’m not judging.”

You sigh, tenderly running your finger over the crescent shaped marks you’ve left on your skin. “He’s your best-friend, and I told you of all people.” Even if it was to make things “even”, it doesn’t stop it from making it embarrassing.

“And Natasha is your best-friend, and I told you while I was shit-faced.” Yeah, a fact he didn’t remember until you told him. “Look, I’m not—I’m not mad.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you murmur.

“Okay, I was. I was mad.” You knew it. “Not at you,” he speaks quickly, trying to appease you, “but at myself for being that careless. What if she had been around when I told you? What if it hadn’t been you, but her I told?”

“Would that be so bad?”

He chuckles, it’s empty and a little distracted. “You know Natasha.”

You do. “She’d turn you down cold.” She’s the type to go after what she wants, afterall.

He drops himself back onto the bench. “Exactly.” He looks pathetic, reminiscent of tragic, drunk Bucky—distant gaze, pouty lips. You feel for him, just as you did when he confessed.

You rub your arm, eyes drifting away from him. “If it makes you feel any better, there have only ever been two people she’s liked in that way. Crushes are pretty rare for her.” Oh. Shit. That did not sound comforting at all! You clench your eyes tightly and groan. Why do you always put your foot in your mouth?!

It’s quiet. Too quiet. You almost prefer Bucky’s talking over the music playing in the room.

The bench squeaks, a scoff following right after it. “Has anyone ever told you you’re shit when it comes to comforting someone?”

Keeping your eyes closed, you turn in place. “I’m so, so sorry, I—I didn’t mean—“

A firm grip on your shoulder quiets you and forces you to open your eyes. “Hey, relax, I know you didn’t mean anything bad by it,” he murmurs, soft and relaxing. “I was joking.”

“No, you weren't. I know I’m not the best when it comes to comforting people, especially people I don’t know or I’m not close to.”

He grips your other shoulder, shaking you gently. “You’re fine, I promise. I really did think it was funny.”

You stare at him, but he only smiles—his eyes crinkling at the edge. “Okay.” Maybe Bucky isn’t so bad?

He pats your shoulder and sits back down on the bench, eyeing you. Taking the hint, you sit down next to him a little cautiously. You both sit in relative silence, watching the pictures for a few ticks before the bench screeches once more.

He twists in his seat and says, “If—what if we help each other?”

You narrow your eyes as your eyebrows furrow. “With what?”

“You help me with Natasha and I’ll help you with Steve.”

“What makes you think I need—“ A lone brow shoots up and you immediately stop talking. “Okay, yeah, yeah, I do need help.”

“You do, just a little,” he says pinching his index finger and thumb together. You want to protest, but you swallow it down when he starts speaking again, grin on his face. “Getting Steve to like you isn’t hard, you’re already friends and that’s a step in the right direction. Natasha on the other hand…”

You nod as he trails off, finishing off his though for him. “Doesn’t really matter whether you’re friends or not, she has to want you.” Is this really such a good idea though? Getting Natasha to like Bucky is going to be hard and difficult, and there’s a chance he’ll have to change who he is in the process, too. Is getting her to like him really worth losing himself?

He sighs, gaining your attention. “Look, I know it won’t be easy. If you’re still unsure, then why don’t we add tutoring to the mix? I’ll help you with Chem and Steve, and you only have to help me with Natasha.”

You bite your lip, rubbing your arm. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

You’re still not sure if this is such a good idea, but he’s willing to continue tutoring you and help you with Steve. Natasha’s old ‘be yourself’ advice from high school hasn’t been helping so far, and probably won’t ever help you, so really, his offer is a true blessing. Yet, you still can’t shake the minuscule of worry even when you say, “Okay. It’s a deal.”

He grins, bright and wide—genuine and nothing like his usual half-assed-not really-smiling smile, that it takes you completely off guard. You don’t even notice the hand he’s offering you until he’s shaking it in your face. He offers you his hand once more and you take it, the two of you sealing the deal with a simple shake.

Natasha is up and ready by the time you wake up. She’s chopping strawberries to add into the morning oatmeal. It takes you a minute, but you notice she’s not wearing her usual work out clothes, but a black, long sleeved leotard with pink leggings underneath and a white, sheer wrap skirt. That’s a look you haven’t seen in a while.

You hop onto the barstool at the breakfast bar. “You’re taking a ballet class?”

“Nope,” she says, placing a bowl of oatmeal with chopped apples and strawberries in front of you. You thank her, taking the spoon she offers you. “Remember Mrs Hudson?”

Vaguely. An older woman comes to mind, strict, but most of her dance teachers were strict and old. Mixing the fruit into the oatmeal, you nod. “Not really. Old ballet teacher?”

She waves her hands. “It’s fine, doesn’t matter, but yes, old ballet teacher. Anyway, she knows some of the teachers at a youth center nearby and she got in contact with me the other day to ask me if I wanted to cover for an instructor on maternity leave,” she says as you eat.

“That’s great!”

Grabbing her own bowl, she adds strawberries, apples, and a shake of cinnamon powder. “Right? A little extra money for groceries doesn’t hurt either.”

“Does this mean you’re quitting your morning yoga?”

“Nah, the gym offers morning classes on Sunday, too. Was able to squeeze into that class. You should come with me! We haven’t gone to a class together since freshman year.”

You make face, the thought of waking up early on a Sunday sounding completely abhorrent. “Yeah, no. Hard pass. Besides, we got kicked out because we couldn’t stop giggling during downward dog, remember?”

Natasha pauses, thinking about it before her lips spread into a smile. “Oh, yeah. Good times.”

You snort. “For us maybe. The others wouldn’t stop glaring at us.”

She chuckles and the two of you continue eating in relative peace. Mid spoonful, Natasha breaks the silence. “By the way, I saw Bucky yesterday.”

Without lifting your head, you look at Natasha, forcing yourself to relax and continue eating. “Oh. Did you?”

She rubs a permanent spot on the counter with her index finger, her sly smirk in place and looking dangerous as ever. “Yeah, and he told me you gave him his number.”

You did, right after leaving the museum together. “And?”

“I thought you two weren’t friends and you were uncomfortable around him?”

“We’re not and I still am,” you say firmly, trying to keep your voice leveled, but it still comes out as a squeak. You’re not entirely lying to her, so why are you nervous? “I just can’t afford to fail this class. My scholarship is riding on this.”

She eyes you, leaning back, not entirely believing you—she knows you better than anyone, afterall.

The front door is thrown open, interrupting Natasha from commenting, and you thank your lucky stars. You know the conversation is bound to come up again, but at least you’ll have enough time to come up with a strong excuse and argument to get her off your back.

“Thank fuck, you’re awake,” Pietro says, stuffing the key you two gave him in case of emergencies, but is never used for emergencies, into his pockets.

“We really should take the key back,” Natasha says with mild amusement, lifting her bowl and spoon up to eat as she moves away from the counter. “You know there are apps that can drive you places, right? You don’t need to run a marathon to get here.”

Turning on the bar stool, you take in his disheveled appearance—silver hair in disarray, jacket turned inside out, and mismatched shoes—left yellow sketchers and right black and white adidas—it’s a miracle he even got his pants on correctly. Last time he looked like that, he ran to your apartment in briefs, tattered shirt, and ugly barf green crocs. “Did you and Crystal get into an aegument again?” you question, raising a brow in his direction.

“Not yet. But I think we will soon,” he says, dropping his ass onto your sofa.

“Why, what did you do this time?”

“This time? I’ve never done anything before!” You both give him a look and he rolls his eyes. “I forgot to tell Crystal Wanda was coming back.”

You swallow a spoonful of the semi sweet oatmeal before asking, “Your twin? She’s visiting?”

You don’t know much about Wanda and have never met her, you’ve only seen pictures that Pietro has shown you of her, and anecdotes about when they were children.

He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair continuously. “No. She’s moving back.”

“That’s great, isn’t it?” He makes a face at Natasha’s exclamation. “It’s not great?” She asks slowly, trying to make sense of Pietro restlessness.

“It is—it is great! But… Wanda was meant to move in with me, and Crystal—“

Natasha snorts. “Why did she move in again? I don’t remember you asking her.”

He grips his head. “I don’t know! She just did!”

“Why don’t you tell her to move out, then?” she asks. “Her family’s rich. I’m sure they can give her place to stay. You already promised your sister you were going to live with her.”

“I can’t kick her out, man, she’s my girlfriend.” And Wanda is his flesh and blood.

Your eyes squint and your lips purse, no ounce of sympathy in your bones for you dumb friend. Why is it that Pietro always gets into really stupid situations? “Right… What are you going to do about Wanda, then?”

“Well,” he begins while smiling sheepishly, “that’s where I was hoping you guys could help.”

You glance at Natasha with wide eyes and she meets your gaze with hard eyes. “With?”

“Can she stay with you guys until she finds her own place?”

“No,” she immediately shuts him down. “Absolutely not.”

He stands, pressing his palms together. “Please?”

“Pietro, we don’t have space for a third person.”

He points at the couch and says, “She can crash on the couch!”

Natasha sighs heavily. “Pietro—“

“Come on, please!” He begs. “Wanda is great and sweet! Totally quiet, you probably won’t even notice her at all.”

“But we will. She’ll be in our space.”

“She can pay rent! She won’t stay for free, promise!” Well, it’s not like you and Natasha pay rent either. This apartment is thankfully being paid for by her dad, leaving the two of you to focus on your grades and use the money given to you for school supplies and groceries.

“Nat,” you start, slowly giving in to Pietro’s pleading.

She says your name slowly, a hint of warning in her voice.

You smile sheepishly and she glares at you. “It won’t be for long—“

Pietro nods. “It won’t.”

“And if we do this for Pietro, he’ll owe us both. Big time.”

“Yeah—wait.”

She stares at you, pinning you to your seat for a long time before finally relaxing and letting out an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” Pietro fist pumps and you smile wider, but he stops pumping his fists and your smile drops when she points at him, eyes narrowed. “But only for a while. And she doesn’t have to pay rent, but helping with the groceries would be great. And you owe us—not a small favor, but skinny-dipping-in-freezing-water-to-get-my-phone-after-I-dropped-it-big, you hear me?”

It’s a little disturbing how specific she’s being, but Pietro doesn’t seem to mind. “Deal!” He rushes towards you and kisses your cheek, and does the same with Natasha, who fights him off, but he still keeps a firm hold on her. “Whatever you want! Fuck, thank you, guys, you saved my skin!”

“Don’t make us regret it, Maximoff.”

next

ending note: was excited to introduce clint even though it was a brief appearance, and wanted to add Wanda into this chapter instead of the next, just because I thought it’d fit better! hope you guys like it! and I know it’s a slow burn, but trust me, it has to be. Lemme know what your guys think c:

[quinnyisms]

Who? - Quinn Fabray & Sam Evans @evansam​

When? - Regionals

Where? - Outside of The Finn Hudson Auditorium

What? - Sam starts freaking out about regionals and little ole Quinny attempts to give him advice.

Word Count? - 2,116 words

SAM: Today was the big day, the day sam had been dreading for weeks now. though the blonde was excited, for the kids and himself, to begin their competition season and compete in regionals, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of nervousness take over. this was the one year that sam truly believed they could easily make it to the end, and possibly even win. but after so many times of sam himself getting his hopes up with his own time in glee, he didn’t want to make that mistake again only for him to be crushed doubly, once for his own and again for the excitement he had built up for the kids he believed in so much. these racing thoughts were what had sam spacing out many times that day in the dressing room, giving the best pep talk he could without stuttering, leaving them to get ready as soon as he could. 

rushing out of the backroom, sam wasn’t necessarily looking where he was going until he found himself in the lobby outside of the auditorium. the man paused in a corner of the large area, placing his hands on top of his head as she started pacing back and forth to exert his nerves. he just wanted success for these kids so much, he was nervous to even think about what could happen once the doors next to him were open for the show.

QUINN: had been attempting all distance away from Sam. She did a shitty thing to him and she understood that now and that's why she was somehow offering herself to concession duty. It wouldn't be the first choice for the blonde, she'd rather be backstage with her own students giving them advice or helping them with their costumes or facial expressions but instead she was stuck in a tiny shoebox with an overwhelming aroma of nacho cheese. Minding her own business, she had been handing out nachos, hot dogs, chips, drinks, whatever someone had come by for when she saw Sam rushing out into the lobby. 

She tried to mind her own business but she was nosy, especially when it came to Sam. Letting out a sigh, she asked Santana to cover for her as she made her way out of the concession stand and over to Sam. You have time to walk back in she said to herself as she inched closer to the man, but she didn't go back inside. "Hey... everything okay?"

SAM: glanced at the watch wrapped around his wrist, not sure if he felt relief about seeing that there was still quite a bit of time before his own students would be making their way across the stage. it’s not that sam didn’t believe in them, he probably believed in them more than anyone ever could, but just the idea of something going wrong for the group that deserved so much drove him to shaky hands and uneven breath. hearing the female voice snap him out of his thoughts, sam jumped as he spun to face the oh so familiar blonde. “oh uh...,” he paused letting out a strained sigh and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “honestly, no. I'm a nervous wreck and I don’t even really know why but I can’t be back there radiating nervous vibes into that room so I started walking and just ended up here and now I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said as it all tumbled out of his mouth, taking a long breath afterward.

QUINN: had crossed her arms, biting on the bottom of her lip, rocking her feet back and forth as she waited to hear from Sam. She was terrified he would just look at her and tell her to go away, which she'd gratefully do  but she couldn't just ignore how nervous he looked and she'd probably feel more awful if she didn't at least check on him somewhat. 

 "Sam, calm down." The blonde scoffed, placing her hands on his shoulders. It may have been too touchy-feely for the circumstance they were in together, but in her mind she just wanted him to calm down for the sake of everyone involved. "You are amazing at what you do and Mr. Schue wouldn't have trusted you if he didn't think you could carry this legacy on. You've already made it to regionals and if the kids don't make it to nationals then it's okay because you've already made it so far." She told him, offering a soft smile in response. "Just breathe and have it in your kids that they'll win."

SAM: of course upon seeing Quinn, sams first thought was oh no, but a bigger part of him couldn’t find it in him to turn her away, especially when she would not have come up to him with ill intentions in mind. so sam swallowed the hurt that had been simmering over the past few days and let her put her hands on his shoulders as he listened, hoping this would help him even if just a little bit. 

“it’s not as easy as it sounds,” the blonde huffed, closing his eyes and he bounced on the heels of his feet. “I’ve heard a lot about how that’s very not true and normally it wouldn’t get to me but now it’s all come barreling back and making me question myself. and I feel like if I can’t get them to nationals then it’ll be on my shoulders, that I didn’t do enough or that I was good enough at preparing them as I could’ve been or something,” he said with a shake of his head, his shoulders slumping. “they just deserve this, every single one of them,”

QUINN: let out a soft sigh as she listened to Sam speak about his nerves. She was never the best at pep talks, normally she was the one needing a pep talk or would rather be off yelling at someone to do better than trying to uplift someone, but here she was trying to put on her best Schuester impression for him. 

"Don't listen to what some dumb kids say, we were their age talking about how Mr. Schue wasn't a great teacher and yet here we all are; he's a principal over a performing arts school, we're all teaching here, and we've all seemingly made it here in once piece," she chuckled, meeting her hazel eyes with his. "You deserve this too, Sam. You've worked so hard with them and if anyone deserves to go to nationals, it's your team."

SAM: though sam still felt on edge, Quinn's talk was enough of a distraction to calm his shaky hands and racing thoughts. all he could do was nod along to what she was saying, taking it in and trying to convince himself of it. convince himself that even with all the chaos and ‘nothing going right’ state of life he was in, that this would go right, that this was going to work out like he knew it could. 

“I pretty much thought Mr. Schue was cool, in his own ‘old white dude that tries to be cool’ type of way. but he did care about us, more than we could’ve ever asked for someone to, and that’s the part of him I want to carry over, you know without the whole creepy putting kids in gold shorts that cover way too little type of way,” he said, letting himself laugh a little at the memory. “can I ask you something? why’d you decide to come over here? I mean you could’ve just pretended to be busy with popcorn duty and ignored my existence entirely, so what made you do it? after everything that’s gone down recently?”

QUINN: was confident in Sam. Was it something she ever saw him doing as a career? No, but she would have to admit she was proud to see how he had grown into coaching his students, and as much as she wanted to be front and center in seeing him thrive, she knew she had to be in the back always after what she caused. 

"Cool is a bit of an understatement. I think we all have to admit he was a little weird about things, such as the Rocky situation," the softly spoken blonde said, looking down at her feet and then back to Sam. "I've been pretty shit to you and that's pretty obvious so I just felt like I should come check on you. I promise after this conversation though, I'll go back to popcorn duty, I know I'm not exactly your favorite person on the planet right now."

SAM: took a moment to take some deep breaths, rotating his shoulders as he let out the rest of his nerves. as much as he hated to admit it, this talk, whatever it was, helped him more than Quinn would ever know. and he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon. 

finally returning his gaze to the blonde in front of him, his eyes softened as they met her own, nodding along to what she was saying. “I saw a new side of the dude that day and I will never forget those fateful times.” he said with a small chuckle as he watched her. the glimmer in her hazel eyes made his heart skip a beat, a small smile resting on his features before he remembered he was supposed to be upset with her. “ah, well you didn’t have to do that, so thank you. sorry that I disrupted your fun night of popcorn and coke sales.” he glanced over to the stand where Santana was still hanging out sodas to the few people still filing into the auditorium. “if you get a calm moment, and you want to sneak past, I know the kids would love to see you out there supporting them.” I would too, remained unspoken as he kept his eyes trained on the doors that were still slightly propped open before the show began in mere moments.

QUINN: Reminiscing somewhat on their high school years was nice, it felt normal which is all Quinn wanted but they weren't normal anymore, there was a wedge between them and you could feel that wedge if you paid close enough attention. "They were the worst. Just be happy you weren't there to hear ice ice baby." She added, a small laugh exiting her mouth. She caught her own eyes meeting up to his blue ones and felt that at that moment, they shared a moment as if to give the illusion that everything was more than okay between them but Quinn knew that wasn't true. "No, it's fine. I didn't mind being pulled away from it for a bit," she replied smiling at him. "I'll try to sneak in for a bit if that's okay with you?" She was trying her hardest to not step on his toes while they were in purgatory with each other.

SAM: didn’t like having tension between him and his friends, especially with Quinn and especially about this. I knew he had a right to be mad, part of him just wished it was much simpler so he could move past it. but the other part was hurt, a constant reminder of what happened. however, he pushed the thoughts aside, clearing his mind to prepare for the night ahead. “I’ve heard stories, like some freaky horror story read to kids to keep them out of glee,” shaking his head before the lights flickered and the bell sounded, indicating showtime was soon. “I don’t mind. they’re your students too, you don’t have to worry about making me upset for supporting them,” he assured her with a smile, taking a step towards the door he had come from. with only a few moments left, he knew his presence would be needed to encourage them one last time. “so I guess I’ll see you out there?”

QUINN: smoothed down her babydoll dress, a classic look for the adult as she seemingly never grew out of wearing them. She knew things between them weren't the same and she'd come to accept that, somewhat in her mind but she had wished they could go back to their friendship before. "No wonder why no one ever joined." Noticing the lights beginning to flicker she decided now would be the best time to let him be and leave their conversation on hold. Making her way back slowly to the concession stand, she turned back around to face him. "You got this, Ken." She teased, a smile tugging at her lips as she turned back around on her heels and entered the concession stand.

[fanficparker]

Serendipity | H.O.

Pairing: Friends!Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Word count: 1.3k words

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

Requested: By the incredible Sarah ( @acceptance07​ ): "Darling please write a fic where Haz comforts a girl after a bad fight with someone (friend, parent, boyfriend, etc.) And maybe he lets it slip that he loves her? 😆 Can't wait."

Summary: Super nervous Harrison couldn't get on his nerves to tell you the truth. Maybe a tongue-slip could help?!

[ MASTERLIST ]

Harrison Osterfield may be super extroverted in front of cameras and stuff, but when it comes to expressing his real-life feelings he absolutely sucked at it. He can't express his inner world. One of the most important reasons behind it was his fear. He remembers when he first told some people about him admiring to become a model was not taken positively. Also, the girl that he joined the drama class for, more or less rejected him, leaving a few secret insecurities for him to deal with. Yeah, he knows times have changed, and he has 500K plus followers and some really devoted fan base, but still those past experiences linger through his heart every now and then. He is grateful to have such a great understanding and supporting friends like Tom, Harry, Sam, Tuwaine or Jacob, but truthfully speaking he never talks about 'feelings' to them. One cause he thinks it could bore their fun time. Second, he wanted fuckin' dating advice, more like how to propose this [Your hair colour] girl, but boy he knows what level of 'love gurus' his best-friends were.

Y/n Y/ln, a full-time artist and a part-time public speaker. Super bold, super enthusiastic, super creative and absolutely a great friend. Who doesn't want to love such a great personality? Well... a lot of people, evil shitty world. With a bunch of supporters came a bunch of haters too. Yeah, those weird monsters opposing you when you raised voice for minorities or people of colour or women rights or trans rights or even charity events.

Everything that made Harrison smitten for you...

You and he met in a charity event and since then you guys are spending a lot of time together. You won't deny if you had developed some feelings for this super sweet blonde guy. But one thing always bothered you, it was obvious he wasn't very open to you. Whenever the conversations got a little bit deeper he would absolutely excuse himself and change the topic like today... Did it just slip off his tongue? Did he just admit he had feelings for you? Or your ears were just ringing?

* * *

"Oh yeah, that's what they think I am? That's what they think I'm trying to do? Publicity stunt?" You ranted to yourself as your hands scribbled on the white notebook page furiously.

"Hi--- Are you okay?" Harrison said entering your art studio, the place he visited you at least twice a week.

"Ah... Hi!" You kept your pen down shutting your notebook seeing him walking towards you.

"What were you yelling?" He asked as you guided him to sit on the sofa kept just opposite to the wall displaying all your paintings. Wednesdays were almost empty and hence the vacant studio and his favourite day to visit you.

"Nothing you know, just those old weird hatred tweets. Some new people joined the hating squad too. Well, just this time some of my relatives asked me to stop raising my voice... Well, my parents." You sighed handling him a glass of water. He handed you the glass back.

"Well, I guess you need it more than me. Your skin seriously looks red." He said and you shifted the glass to rest on the table hiding your face in your hands.

"Hey you can tell me the whole thing," he threw his arm around you. You laid your head on his shoulder taking a deep breath, your eyes lined with tears.

"Mom said she is afraid that these hate tweets can harm our family reputation. I mean... why? Am I doing something wrong? I just wanted to help some people and it feels like so many people see me as a terrible person. I even see some people mumbling things among themselves glancing at me. I try my best to ignore everything, but I can't ignore my family. I got into a fight with mom on this and now I think... she... She isn't proud that I'm her daughter... She hates me. "

Your voice cracked as the tears dripped down your cheeks and breathing became laboured. Harrison pulled you closer, hugging your side even tighter.

"Look Y/n she doesn't hate you. It's just that... She is afraid that it could get you into trouble. She loves you that's why she's worried. But in time she will understand what you are doing is great and will be happy for you. Just give her some time, everything will be fine." He assured kissing the top of your head.

"But, I don't know. Whenever I try to do something nice... I get so much... hate. Sometimes I feel like I deserve it."

"Ssh, no absolutely not. Even Nelson Mandela had haters that don't mean he deserved it. Everyone knows he was right. And a lot of people and of course I know that you are right and we support you." He rubbed your arms, relaxing your breathing.

"But that’s why shit keeps happening!"

"No. That's why I fell in love with you."

"Mmh... Wait what?" You jerked up, removing your head from his shoulder.

"Shit!" You heard him mumble as his eyes roamed everywhere in the room, threatened to land on you.

"Harrison. Look at me. What did you say?" You asked. The new feeling of surprise took over your tears which felt like long forgotten. He turned his body towards you but still not looking in your eyes.

"I-ah sorry. I wasn't supposed to say and I don't know what to do and I---"

"It's too late for all that, you know?" You held his hands in yours, running a thumb over his knuckles making him look in your eyes. "You never talk about yourself, you know?"

"Hmm..." He pressed his lips.

"What you said, is it true?" You asked softly, to which he nodded. "Then why didn't you tell me before? If it won't slip off your tongue I would have never known. You don't trust me enough to share---"

"No, no, it's not like that. I absolutely trust you. The problem is with me. I just am a bit afraid of getting rejected or... people not caring about my feelings." He sighed.

"You don't have to afraid Haz. Like you tell me so many spirit lifting things, it really makes me feel so good. So let me return some of your favours!" You said, leaving his hands, making him look at you in confusion. You stretched your right palm in front of him, clearing your throat.

"So... Harrison Osterfield would you go on a date with me, tonight?" You were smiling, biting your lip to keep yourself from giggling.

"I-ah... Of course. Oh God, you don't have to do that." He kept his hand on his face.

"Aww... You are trying to hide your blush, so cute. Did I made you blush?!" You playfully teased him, removing his hand from his face making his face go even redder. "God stop shying and go get dressed up, I would seriously get mad if you are late for our date." You giggled as he finally smiled, looking a lot more confident. "Now just go." You dragged him out of the sofa.

"Okay.." He mouthed and out of blues lightly pecked your lips. Before you could even react or kiss him back he rushed out giving you a little naughty smile.

"At least ask for the date location?" You yelled at his back, but he already left jumping like a toddler. "Div!"

* * *

Taglist…

PERMANENT Taglist //

@i-love-superhero // @caswinchester2000 // @vintagexquill // @babebenhardy// @acceptance07 //

Mutuals:  @bringmethehorizonandpizza @calum-hoodwinked-me @acceptance07 @probably-writing-x @shamelessbookaddict@hollandsosterfield @tomnhaz @summernykole @uglypastels@faefictions @pinkmarvel @osterfieldholland01 @hazhasmycoffeex3@hazthotsterfield @hazsterfield @empressdreams@harryshollands @hexingholland

TELL ME IF YOU DON’T WANNA GET TAGGED OR IF YOU WANNA GET TAGGED...

[bellakitse]

catch me a catch [2/?]

chapter 1

Even knows he is being obvious in his staring but can’t bring himself to stop or even care, not when the object of his affection, his -well not his, not yet but hopefully someday- beautiful boy with wild curls sits a couple desks down from him in the otherwise empty library, a clutter of books spread across his desk as he works. Even himself has a notebook in front of him, a series of half-drawn sketches on the page forgotten as he gazes at the boy, his pulse spiking every time the blond boy sneaks a look in his direction. Even gives the boy a small smile of acknowledgment when he sneaks another peek, his smile growing when despite the blush spreading on the boy’s face, he holds Even’s stare for a moment before finally looking away. Even can’t help but be charmed by the display of shyness and feels a wave of tenderness and protectiveness over him.

He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t notice Mikael walk in and looks up startled when his friend drops his heavy bag on the library table, the thump echoing throughout the room. He sneaks another look across the room to the boy who isn't sneaking shy looks at him anymore and instead is frowning in his and Mikael's direction.

"Maybe he’s one of those people who thinks libraries are like church and is pissed I made noise," Mikael comments, noticing the look too. He continues to look at the boy for a moment, smirking when the boy looks away, before turning back to Even. "I have the scoop."

Even looks at his friend lost for a moment, groaning internally when Mikael signals with a head nod towards the boy.

"Mikael," he begs, knowing it's a lost cause as Mikael ignores him.

"His name is Isak Valtersen and he’s a 1st year, which obvious by that baby face of his," Mikael snorts, a grin on his already animated face. "You dirty old man."

Even blushes at that. "Shut up."

Mikael lets out a laugh, loud and larger than life just like him. Even looks over once again at the boy a few tables down, Isak.

“Anything else?” Even questions.

“I got you his name,” Mikael points out with a disbelieving look. “More than you have done since we got here.”

“Some Yente you are,” Even grumbles.

“Okay, how about this, will entirely in the closet he’s into guys.”

Even sits up straighter at that, feeling a thread of hopefulness despite himself. "What makes you say that?"

Mikael gives him a sympathetic look that Even would believe more if he wasn’t grinning. "That a good news, bad news scenario."

Even waits for his friend to continue.

"It's obvious he has a crush on his very male best friend," Mikael says and Even can't deny it, he has been watching Isak pretty much since he and Mikael first transferred to Nissen and noticed himself the way Isak’s gaze lingers on his friend. "That's the good news, he likes male parts which you have. The bad news is the crush on the friend with the eyebrows. Which are both massive and majestic, if that’s what he’s into there's no way your eyebrows can compete, bro."

Even stares at his best friend and the ridiculous grin on his face, giving a reluctant smile of his own. "You ass," he says as Mikael giggles ridiculously and unrepentant.

“For real though,” Mikael starts as his laughter tapers off. “All of this is good, I have no doubt you can charm the boy.”

Even lets out a sigh. “You sound so sure.”

“I am,” Mikael says confidently.

“How?”

Mikael looks back at Isak who so happens to be looking their way, now beet red at being caught. Turning back at Even, Mikael waggles his eyebrows. “Because he stares at you too.”

Even looks over at Isak, biting down on his lip when he sees the boy sneaking another look their way.

“See,” Mikael smirks at him all smug. “Now you just need to go talk to him.”

Evan sighs at the suggestion, knowing his friend is right. “I know that, I just have no idea how to start up a conversation with him.”

“You say ‘Hi, I like your face so much I spend my time drawing it,'” Mikael points at the drawing on Even’s notebook. “Would it be okay if I touch your face with my face, bam, boyfriend.”

Even looks at his friend who is always smiling but now is giving him a very serious look. “That’s your advice, your honest to god advice.”

Mikael nods. “That’s my advice.”

Even hums. “Well, now we know why you barely date.”

“That’s mean,” Mikael pouts theatrically. “Your sexual frustrations have made you mean.”

Even rolls his eyes at his friend’s dramatic as he stands from his chair. “I’ll be back, there was an art book I saw here the other day, I want to see if it’s still here.”

Mikael nods giving him a mocking salute as he walks away.

*

Even is gone from the main room of the library five minutes tops, searching for his book through the stacks. It shouldn’t be enough time for Mikael to start his particular brand of madness, but then again Mikael is an overachiever because when Even comes back to his table, his friend isn’t waiting for him, no, instead he finds his friend sitting across from Isak. His back is to Even so he can’t see his face as he talks to the younger boy, but he can see the way he’s waving his arms around, a sure sign that Mikael is telling some outrageous story. Even tells himself to just sit back down and ignore everything, but he sees even from here Isak’s wide eyes as he looks at Mikael with apprehension and while Mikael is the most harmless human being Even has ever known, he also knows how overwhelming Mikael can be at times. Resigned to the possible embarrassment coming his way he walks over to the two boys, getting to their table just in time to hear Mikael giving another ‘reason’ for their leaving Bakka.

“We tapped into the loudspeaker system and played ‘It’s a small world' they couldn’t figure out how to stop it!”

“That’s your latest lie about why we got expelled?” Even questions as he stands at the end of the table, his eyes straying to Isak for a moment, he gives him a small smile, feeling a rush of excitement when the boy returns the gesture. “That’s actually tame for you.”

“More like cruel and unusual punishment,” Isak says in a low, hesitant voice as he tries to joke. “Just naming that song makes people get earworm.”

Mikael smirks an evil smile as he opens his mouth.

Even points a warning finger at him. “Don’t you dare sing.”

“Party pooper,” Mikael scowls turning back to Isak. “Isak, have you met my friend Even? He’s boring and doesn’t like catchy Disney songs.”

Isak looks at him again, his cheeks rosy as he does so. “I’ve heard of him, Hi, I’m Isak.”

“Even,” he says extending his hand, he feels a zing go through him as their hands touch, and he tells himself to stop being so lovesick and ridiculous. But he looks back up and Isak’s green eyes are wide as he stares at him. Even can’t help but hope he felt it too.

“You’ve heard of him huh?” Mikael interrupts their staring, humor clear in his voice.

“Both of you,” Isak corrects taking his hand back, nodding when Even points to the chair next to him. He sits, ignoring the smirk Mikael throws his way.

“It might be a big school, but two 3rd years transfer mid school year, people talk, especially with all the rumors circling about why you had to transfer,” Isak says giving him a speculative look.

“That’s all this jerk’s fault,” Even points at Mikael, feeling his neck get hot. “He’s a shit starter and is amusing himself by lying about the reason we left Bakka.”

“It’s for my movie,” Mikael argues turning back to Isak to explain. “I’m doing a movie on naivety.”

“Ignore him, he thinks he’s a film student,” Even says to Isak, grinning as Mikael lets out a gasp.

“I don’t have to take this from you,” Mikael says standing up, grabbing his stuff. “Not only is Baz Luhrmann, a pretentious director, Lars von Trier ain’t shit either.”

Even narrows his eyes at his friend, momentarily forgetting Isak as two of his favorite directors are insulted. “You need a time out and reevaluate your life choices if you really believe what you just said.”

Mikael crosses his arms standing defiantly. “I stand by what I said.”

“Film blasphemy.”

“Who is Baz Luhrmann and Lars von Trier?”

Even turns looking wide-eyed back to Isak, speechless and dismayed. He hears Mikael laughing.

“What?” Isak asks defensively at the look he gives him. “What did I say?”

“You just broke his heart, Isak,” Mikael laughs loudly. “Maybe even his brain.”

Even glares at his friend who just smirks at him gleefully. “Is he still pretty, Even?” Mikael questions, his grinning growing as both he and Isak blush. “Well, I got to go, class,” he continues, a satisfied look on his face that says ‘my job here is done.'

Even watches his friend leave the library to stall for time, only turning back to Isak once Mikael has left the room. Isak is looking down at his books, biting down on his bottom lip nervously.

“Sorry about him, he’s a lot to take sometimes,” Even says, feeling so awkward and unlike himself. What is it about this boy that makes him a tongue-tied mess when usually he’s so calm and cool?

“It’s fine,” Isak murmurs. “He’s amusing.”

“Shit starter,” Even reminds him with a half-smile as Isak chuckles.

“Is he really doing a movie about all the rumors floating around about you two?” Isak questions.

Even shrugs. “Maybe, you never know with Mikael. Mostly I think he’s just amusing himself coming up with crazy reasons why we got thrown out of our school because he doesn’t like the real reason.”

Even can tell Isak is curious and he braces himself for the question. He wonders what face he’s making, maybe one of dread because the question doesn’t come.

Instead, Isak asks. “So who are those guys Mikael mention before?”

“Those guys,” Even repeats painfully. “You really don’t know?”

“Sorry,” Isak says with a grin as Even lets out a mournful sound, dropping his head on the table. “Did I break your heart again?”

“Heart, brain,” Even says, not feeling like he’s exaggerating. “Soul.”

Isak lets out a giggle at that, his eyes crinkling at the sides with amusement and Even is back to being spellbound by the boy. “All that and I just met you, that’s very rude of me.”

“You can make it up to me,” Even blurts out quickly not believing Isak has given him such an opening.

Isak frowns, a confused little smile on his face. “How?”

“Let me educate you on two of the greatest directors ever,” Even says with a charming grin. “Movie date, my place?” He holds his breath as Isak looks at him with those big green eyes of his, a soft blush spreading across his face again and Even’s hands itch with the desire to reach out and touch. It feels like he waits forever for an answer instead of a few seconds.

Isak gives him another shy smile that makes him more adorable than he already is to Even. “Okay.”

[surveyjunkie]

1. Do you like zombie movies? Yes. Even though they’re all pretty similar, they’re always entertaining and keep me on the edge of my seat. 

2. What’s the grossest/worst thing you’ve ever seen in a public restroom? Poop smeared all over the walls. It was an experience. <<

3. What’s the most wasteful thing you regularly do? Eat out when I have food at home

4. What’s the most difficult apology you’ve ever had to give? I can’t remember. 

5. What’s the worst relationship advice you’ve ever seen? I’m sure I’ve read some pretty bad ones from magazines, but I can’t remember what they were

6. Have you ever volunteered in a hospital? If not, would you ever want to? Yes, I used to volunteer at the hospital that I work at now. 

7. What was your worst Halloween costume? I don’t know? I wouldn’t say any of them were bad...some were basic, but not bad. 

8. Who has/had the worst reputation in your graduating class? The people with the worst reputations didn’t graduate. 

9. When was the first time you can remember feeling mature? I don’t really ever feel mature.

10. Have you ever had a disappointing Christmas, or any disappointing holiday if you don’t celebrate Christmas? I’ve had many disappointing Christmases in the past. Lately they haven’t been so bad. 

11. Do you have any character band-aids in your house right now, or just plain ones? Just plain ones.

12. Have you ever had to give a pet away? No, thankfully.

13. What’s the junkiest junk food you’ve ever eaten? White Castle

14. Did you play pretend a lot as a child? Were there any recurring plots or themes? LOL yeah, when I was about 7/8 my friend Jess and I would pretend we were Native Americans in her basement....we always acted like we were from different tribes and didn’t get along with each other...it was like some weird drama we made up. 

15. How do you feel about runny egg yolks? I mean, I don’t feel a certain way about them. I’d rather eat scrambled or boiled eggs though

16. Has a teacher ever tried to teach you something that was undeniably wrong? I’m sure I have

17. If for some reason you had to give up one of your hobbies, which would you choose? Working out

18. Have you ever hidden a relationship from your family? For a short period of time

19. How much do you know about first aid? Not very much.

20. Which of your relatives do you know the least about? Second cousins on my mom’s side. I know all of my cousins on my dad’s and am relatively close to them, but for whatever reason I know nothing about the cousins on my mom’s side, aside from her brother’s children. 

21. Have you ever meditated? If so, did it do anything for you? Once, it helped me relax

22. Have you ever given advice to someone who was much older than you? I’ve given advice to my mom and my boss before. 

23. Have you ever used a view-master? Yes! I used to love them.

24. Do you ever listen to talk radio or podcasts? If you do, what are some of your favorite shows? No 

25. When was the last time you got ice cream from a truck? Ugh it’s been forever

26. Are any of your favorite bands broken up or on hiatus right now? Smashing Pumpkins hasn’t released anything new in a good while now. Sublime is not the same band anymore without Bradley. Alt-J hasn’t come out with anything since 2014. 

27. Do you know any sex workers? If so, how do they feel about their job? My Human Sexuality professor from college used to be a phone sex operator. That was her big secret that she revealed to the class at the end of the semester. She said the job itself got boring and repetitive after a while, but she never felt ashamed about what she did. 

28. What’s the biggest art project you’ve ever attempted? How did it go? Ummm, there was one back in high school where we had to create a series of 10 paintings for one project. I don’t think mine went too well. I don’t like being forced to paint stuff, it just comes naturally for me.

29. What kind of wild animals do you see most frequently where you live? Deer or squirrels 

30. Have you ever cooked anything other than s’mores over a fire? Hot dogs and peppers

31. Are there any items in your house that you use for something other than its intended purpose? We’re currently using tupperware bins as TV stands in the apartment and covering them with tapestries. 

32. What do you hope the afterlife is like? Hopefully it will take place on another planet, where our species is way more evolved, advanced, and civilized than the human race. 

33. What’s the worst behavior you’ve ever seen from a child? My brother was pretty bad when he was growing up, and that’s not me exaggerating or being biased. 

34. Have you ever planned an act of revenge? Yes. Fell through though. 

35. Do you and your parents share any of the same hobbies? The only thing we all have in common is that we like to drink. 

36. Do you think it’s more exciting or scary to get older? Scary. I like being 24 and I wish I could just stay this age. 

37. How was the reception of the last wedding you attended? AWESOME. 

38. Do you have any physical photo albums? I have one from when we took a family vacation to Disney World in 2002

39. Would you feel comfortable working at a sex shop? Yeah. 

40. Who was the worst friend you ever had? Oh man I’ve had a lot of shitty friends, but one of them definetely takes the price. We had that kind of friendship where you joke around constantly, and it was all fun. Until after a few months where I could sense a change in the over all atmosphere of our frienship. The jokes became tougher and more and more ruthless. In the last few months he was basically bullying me, giving me shit for everything I did. He made fun of my music taste, my style, my hair, my face, my personality, everything. He basically broke my confidence to a point where I tried changing the way I was for him to not pick on me. I became super depressed and I was close to taking my own life several times. People around me started noticing that he was bullying me, and when they asked me about it, I just told them it was nothing and that I was just being sensitive if I felt offended about what he told me. I remember one morning where he was picking at me, and I told him I was feeling like shit and that my mental health was doing really bad, and I actually apologized for it. I told him I was sorry for being quiet, when my mind was just spinning around the thought of not wanting to live. He told me that it wasn’t strange, that I was just being boring as usual. At that point, I understood that he didn’t give a shit about me, and I started avoiding him. Nowadays, he’s still mad at me. According to him, I betrayed him by starting to avoid him. He’s a dick, to say the least.<< DUDE. I had a friend just like this in high school. She was a girl but was the exact same way. Always making rude jokes about my appearance in public, specifically my small breasts, and making fun of literally everything I did, and then would tell me I was being dramatic whenever I got mad at her for it. Like, I understand friends joking around with each other about things like that every and now and then, but this was literally ALL. THE. TIME. She’d tell me to stop being so sensitive and take a joke. She also would tell me I had no right to feel depressed or sad because I had a good life instead of understanding and comforting me like a decent fucking person, and recognizing that mental health issues affect everyone. So when I finally stopped hanging out with her, she got pissed and removed me as a friend from Facebook. Good riddance. 

41. What’s the biggest sacrifice you’ve ever made? Probably choosing to be in a long distance relationship for 6 months, but it turned out to be worth it 

42. Have you ever campaigned for a political candidate, or otherwise played an active roll in an election? I mean, I voted in the last two elections. 

43. What’s the coolest hand-me-down you’ve ever gotten? What about the best one you’ve ever given? I’m not sure

44. Do your parents and grandparents get along with each other? Yes

[diefakekalvingarrah]

Addressing all my Factives

Okay first and most importantly Garrett Watts. Garrett Watts was actually one of my very first alter to introduce themselves to me. He was like hey I exist! He went to a period when I first met him where he was like No! I’m not a factive I’m a fucktive! And I was like huh? Basically it’s when you’re not a factive nor a fictive but something inbetween. He’s not a fucktive, he’s definitely a factive we were just in denial because we didn’t like the idea of factives. But water you gonna do. Garrett is amazing. He’s such a blessing to my system. He makes us so happy in really intense times, usually when we get overwhelmingly angry, he comes in and diffuses things with his funny ways.

Kurtis Conner next. This isn’t in order of when they split, but rather the least to the most problematic how about that. Anyway, Kurtis Conner is wonderful. He split pretty recently around the same time as PEIII. He’s lovely. Not much more to say he’s pretty surprisingly dead on for the real Kurtis Conner. He’s pretty chill about factive stuff. He’s understanding and he’s just like whatever y’know.

ASIA! I hate Asia. Asia is definitely a persecutor although I’m not a big fan of those kind of labels but I still think they’re necessary. Her full name is Asia Herrera. Asia is modeled after an ex friend of mine of the same name. Asia was a really really crazy toxic and emotionally abusive and manipulative person. She was a major shit bag. We knew each other and were friends for five years before I finally blew up at her and told her everything I felt and then we cut off. But I was really attached to her at that point so when we “broke up” it really hit different and to cope, Asia split off as an alter. She’s meant to bring me comfort and like,, what’s the word for when you come to terms with something? Whatever that is. That’s her whole point. She definitely didn’t for awhile and only made me feel worse and caused a lot of problems, but she did eventually. I still don’t like her though. I have a few prosecutors and persecutors, and the only ones I would ever confidently say I hate and wish had never formed are her and JJ and that’s it. 

Moriah Elizabeth is a pretty recent split. Don’t look her up or you’ll make fun of me, let me just tell you her deal and you take my word for it okay? okay. It’s dumb. You’ve probably never heard of her because as far as I’m aware none of my followers are seven years old nor mothers of little babies. Moriah Elizabeth is a YouTube well known for making art and crafting related content aimed towards stereotypical little girls. Just a lot of unicorns and rainbows and sprinkles and glitter. Her main gig is a series called “Squishy Makeover” where her child fans send her their old fucked up squishy toys and she fixes them and makes them new and interesting. And she has the maturity level of a little elementary school girl. Uh. Anyway. Yeah. She’s amazing. So Teter, resident little, went though a pretty rough patch of nonstop stuck fronts and tantrums when her favorite caretaker alter (Denis, RIP) integrated. And during that time her favorite thing to do to distract herself was watch Moriah Elizabeth and SimplyNailogical (with Zim because he loves that channel for some reason?) and videos of independent music producers because it reminded her of Denis. Anyway. Moriah developed and took on a very motherly role in taking care of Teter and making her feel better, kind of replacing Denis. She’s a blessing. And my god she paints on fucking everything.

Okay let’s get the obvious one out of the way. Kalvin Garrah. Oh Kalvin. Kalvin Kalvin Kalvin. Fuck you. So I developed Kalvin maybe two years ago?? I was having a mad hard time with my dysphoria and I would watch his videos religiously smh. I was a giant fan and took his advice for trans men as gospel. I was such an asshole haha. Anyway, when he inevitably formed, he kind of soaked up a lot of my dysphoria and gender related trauma. I thought he was a good alter! I was like oh cool! This absolute chad is gonna held guide me on being a Real Boy™️ like my own little SQUIP or sum. Yippee. And y’know he kind fo did for awhile. Ad everything was peachy. But then, I grew up! And I developed a personality of my own and became my own person and realize I’m not just some stereotypical manly man nor and I 1000% male either. And now he despises me. He always kind of did. But whatever. He hates me. And he made me feel like shit for exploring my identity for a long time. But, as a system, we figured out how to deal with him and make him a little better, and now I’m fine with him. We get along like brothers, which is to say sometimes we get along. 

Okay so before I talk about the next two, I want to mention the fact that I have this issue, and I don’t know if there’s a name for it, but I tend to get very obsessed with certain people I will hyper fixate on these people and try to worm my way into their lives one way or another. I’m pretty good at being a people pleaser and being about to understand exactly what people want and then become that without separating myself too much from myself. The people I become obsessed with I will go to crazy lengths to get into every facet of their lives. I’ll follow them, I’ll follow their friends, I’ll follow their families, I’ll save everything and log it all in one place, I’ll pretend to be people they know and figure out their pasts, I’ll learn whatever I can and just obsess over it. I don’t know. It’s only really extremely happened with four people, but minority with some others. SORRY I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW SHIT IS WRONF WITH ME OKAY YOU FOLLOWED YOU READ THE CARRD MOVING ON

Mars! Yahoo! So I won’t linger on this for long because Mars is very easily triggered to front, and doesn’t like being talked about. Mars (aka NyadChild now @nyadcircus ) formed during the height of the whole dysphoria debate back when he was the poster child of tucutes and trenderism . Lovely. I looked up to him ( not really at the time but when he formed I was a fan ) and I was kind of obsessed with him. Oops.

Ash! Okay! So ash, lovely ol ash I’ve been getting into a bit of a heartbreaking dram with you my lovely ash. Idk if someone’s gonna rat me out to you but whatever I’m gonna continue regardless. I won’t leave an @ so no one CAN rat me out. So ash is an influencer I guess? A nonbinary sworker who I FOUND through instagram way back and have been following for the longest time. And like a product of being obsessed with someone is checking their account obsessively. I’ve made so much fan art and little snippets of what could eventually become fanfic. That I’d never show anyone. I’ve had like six dreams about them? Maybe I’ll talk about them someday. It really ties into religious stuff too so it would be worth discussing. ANYWAY. I’m super enamorado con Ash, but not really a romantic or sexual attraction. It never is. Just a hyper fixation I dunno. I downloaded that ONE youtube video they made that one time a million years ago back when they were in the hospital and I’ve watched it so many times I practically have it memorized. Shut up get back to the point. Ash developed as a factive! Inevitable! But my ash factive is lovely. They’re really nice and pretty accurate and close to reality, aside from the weird one off fact that they use she/her tambien and I’m pretty sure Ash doesn’t considering I once used she/her for them and they called me out for it my bad. Whatever I’ll leave it at that I’lll leave a note for our ash to post sometime we’ll see moving on

Here’s an honorable mention before I get into the worst one of them all. Twiggy Ramirez! He went dormant some time ago. Out of all my factive and fictive, he was the most crazy unlike the real Twiggy Ramirez. And I’m pretty positive it was because he was modeled less after the actual Twiggy, but more after this guy that kinned Twiggy Ramirez that I was deadass obsessed with way back in 2014. I knew literally everything about that kid, I knew what school he went to I knew who his friends were, I knew every single social media he ever had even the super secret ones I managed to follow by pretending to be his friends, and at one point I even found his exact location on google maps and through that found his home address and his separated father’s home address, not to mention I learned everything about his abuser. I never ever spoke to him, nor attempted to get close to him at all. I never did anything with this info mind you and I never planned to. I was just obsessed with him and that ended eventually.

Alright!!! The best one! Rachael! Rachael Stair! AKA Randy Stair! AKA ANDREW FUKCING BLAZE. Sound familiar? Yeah look it up I won’t go into detail because I literally hate having this alter and I’m so ashamed of her but like she’s done so much for me and I appreciate her very much as a protector but not so much as the IRL equivalent. Shut the fuck up. Just don’t talk about it.