#i really do believe theres something more to life and some people peoples souls and spirits just immediately mesh in an unexplainable way

[wonkawinka]

we’ll meet again

“we’ll meet again… don’t know where, don’t know when..”

alastor x angel!daughter!reader

CHAPTER THREE: weak ankles!

warnings/notes: NOT PROOFREAD (at least thoroughly haha), no use of y/n, uses she/her pronouns, reader is on the fem side, cannibals(?)/cannablism

wc: 2449

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“CAN you believe it?! actual human souls!,” emily paced around her room, if it could even be called that; a couple square feet more and it could just be a house without rooms, “and she let it happen! those poor human souls… HUMAN! like- LIKE YOU!” her hands shake violently in your face in deep emphasis

she groans in frustration as she flops down on her bed. “ugh… if only i can do something.”

“thats the thing, emily. you can.” you state, turning to face her displayed body lazily splattered on her bed. one flick away and shed immediately melt into a pile of goop.

“how?! we’ve been trying to find ways for the past week! even then…” she turns “i dont want.. you know.” a rare frown settles on the seraphim’s face.

“you dont want to let sera down, huh?” she groans solemnly at your assumption, face down into her pillow now.

“no…! well, not fully, atleast.. i mean, its not like i can go to hell myself…”

that rang a bell in your mind, it vibrated throughout your whole body. maybe she cant. you open your mouth to vocalize your opinions before shutting it, turning back around. unfortunately for you, this doesnt go unnoticed by the second seraphim.

“youre not thinking of going down there… are you?” ah, you shoudlve known you cant hide anything from her. besides sparkles or rainbows, she was basically built to detect things like these. despite how naive she can come off, people do tend to underestimate her actual abilities.

“i cant just leave them there em– i just.” you frown “i can do something for them. its not like theres anything else waiting for me up here. you havent been on earth like i have.”

“this is about your father… isnt it?”

static rings in your ears as the assumption brings you to a halt. maybe. you were mad at him, though. so was it for him?

“you dont understand.”

she calls your name, “its just— its dangerous down there.”

“look, if youre not going to try and fix this directly, i will. its not like i have nothing to lose any way…”

“thats not true, though.” she grabs your hands and looks at you, a frown resting on her usual joyful face.

“i help people, emily. thats all i do. thats how we met. i help. … but my fa..fami…,” you hesitate, debating over your word choice, “… they’re down there; it seems like my life attracts ‘bad things’, hah. i just.. i need to go.”

“i understand that but… do you really think hanging onto the past will fix that?”

her statement bites back at your tongue, inhibiting your ability to speak on the matter any longer.

“…good night, emily.” hah, your non-confrontational mind pushed you out the door of her room. guilt rushed into your veins but you pushed along, you had something you wanted and you took it.

thats one of the things the heaven-borne angels will never understand. ambition. the human need to strive for success and borderline obsession in something they want. need. hand cuffs dragging you along some sick deal you signed with yourself.

you wandered aimlessly throughout the halls of the heaven’s court, navigating your way to the exit. Before you could, the annoying, sadly familiar voice sent radio waves through your mind.

“WELL WELL WELL isnt it little miss goody two shoes! whats a bitch like you wandering around at this hour?” adam and lute stop you dead in your tracks. ugh, you had to put your pretty face on if you were going to get past these wretches.

“good evening, sir adam, maam,” you nod to them with the politetest smile you can offer to a lot like them, “dont mind a gal like me, just strollin’ her way home.”

“AH, well, since we’re here already. say youve heard about the fun little endeavor we got goin on, yeah? why dont you–”

“no—,” you take a deep breath, “no, thank you.”

“bitch, you didnt even let me fini–.”

“well pardon me, but i dont need you to finish. i will absolutely not be joining you on your little… excursion to hell.”

“OH, come on! first of all, wouldnt kill ya to stop interruping me, kinda RUDE.” your smile has tightened that it nearly imprinted on your face “two, you got kickass aim! you shot… squirrels and shit when you were alive. what, your old man teach ya that or something?”

“whether i can shoot or not is none of your concern, adam. now if youll excuse me, i have places to be. errands to be run.” trying slipping past them, you cant help but notice they were still attempting to hinder your steps.

lute stands in front of you with the same old face she had. it was never even her face. it was a mask. a helmet. one shielding the exorcists from the physical reality of the state of man.

adams voice booms at you “LISTEN, bitch. any low life creature like you should be GRATEFUL that i even tried recruiting you in the first place. its a fucking HONOR to work with me.”

“uhuh. well this low life creature is oh, soooo grateful that the one and only adam, first man of heaven and earth, invited her to your um,” the man smirks as she continues , “outings, but she has more important things to do that day. good day to ya’.”

you shouldve flown off a long time ago.

— — — — — — — — — —

the clock ticked quietly. the minute, second, and hour hand all moving in direct correspondence with one another to simply label the concept of human events in mathematical sequences. the clock struck three.

it was exactly two weeks till the extermination. you had to do what you had to do anyway. you may or may have not stolen something of emily’s to get where you were today, but oh well. shed understand… hypothetically.

its not like that stop you anyway.

flowing energy of pure essence and magic floated aimlessly through the air, twisting and curling with each individual atom. each surged with enough power to bend events on earth.

whispers of the ancient and calls from the deep filled your ears as the quiet grew louder towards you. it was overwhelming, but yet, each medley made you seem like you were being relaxed.

a portal opened, supposedly to the destination you needed to get at. before stepping in, you thought.

i can die here. again. a cannibal could yank off your arm. you might get assaulted. you might mawled. robbed. the possibilities were endless. hell was free will with no bounds.

a frown appeared on your lips as you stared at the blinding light. you were one step away from the sole thing you have been searching for weeks.

your soul could be enslaved.

.

you were never that dumb, anyway.

you hurried through the portal, making haste as if someone on the other side has caught you in the act. if you were caught, youd be banned. banished. fall—

“MMPHM!” you walk right into a random hold llady with a cane.

“WATCH WHERE YAR GOIN’, YOU WRENCH!” the old lady screamed at you, causing you to frown. “BETTER GET SOME EYES BEFORE I EAT THEM MYSELF!”

“sorry, maam…”

“sorry, my ass! hmph.”

you laugh nervously as you circle around the woman to escape, only to be surrounded by… a lot more people. even through the crowds compaction, from the distance, there was a sign.

CANNIBAL TOWN.

ah, just what you needed. seems like youre just a magnet for every cannibal, even in death.

“haha… hello… there, good sir.” some man goes to examine your wing and sniffs it… he gives a nod of approval to his friend before you snatch it away from his hands, hugging it close to your chest. “that is mine, thank you.”

your nose twitched at the stench of hell. the grim and soot combining into various airborne particulates that filled your lungs like toxins.

however, one goes in and tries to chomp your ank—

sharp pain reaches the area as you shriek back in pain, earning some recognition from passerbyers, and especially, a certain someone.

see, its not everyday people of hell see pearly white wings on their doorstep. it's like these cannibals just hit the goldmine of a chicken dinner and you were the first thing on their menu.

right before you started throwing hands, a lovely woman showed up. she reminded you of some of the ladies that babysitted you as a kid when you were alive. had the dress, the hat, the heels, everything. just taller. and with black… PITCH black irises.

“oh, shoo! leave the poor woman alone! did cha mothers teach you anything?!” she shoos off the boys, hands resting on her hips and frown resting on her face. she turns around and formally greets you.

“ALRIGHT, lets see. whats a doll like you hanging around a place like this? i gotta say, im a little flattered someone as cute as you showin’ up at my doorstep!” she thoroughly examines you and obviously takes note of your nearly obnoxious feathered wings.

she clicks her tongue and smiles “ah! you really did fall from heaven, huh? ohhh, im just teasing ya’, hun. but i do say, your one the make the mens ankles go weak! quite the bees knees!”

“as much as i love the enthusiasm, seems like ive had the opposite effect.” you display the very clear bite mark, making rosie laugh at your matching energy.

“ohh, we’ll get you fixed right up! dont mind those boys… you know how they are, especially in this time of age, YEESH!” she pushes you inside a cute ol’ building Franklin and Rosie’s Emporium.

“sit, sit! make yourself comfortable,” her motherly tone calms you down, “can i getcha anything! ooo, where are my manners, i forgot to introduce myself! the names rosie, its always a pleasure to find poor unfortunate souls like yours end up on my doorstep, especially cute ones.” she winks at you as you settle yourself in a chair, taking note of the wonderful hues and coziness of the environment. it was nothing you wouldve expected from hell.

you introduce youreelf formally, “its a pleasure to meet you. quite the pleasure, especially for a gal’ like yourself.” you smiled warmly at the woman, making her giggle.

“awwww, you’re so sweet! no wonder the boys wanted a taste of ya’, you drip with honey, hun!”

“i could say the same for you, maam.” you smile, offering the same compassion she showed. she grabs some bandages in a miscellaneous cabinet and lifts up your ankle.

“here, i’ll getcha fixed up in no time.”

silence, oddly comforting silence, filled the hall as she wrapped bandages around your ankle.

“thank you, by the way.”

“oh, don’t mention it honey, but i must say, seeing a gal like you is quite rare down here.” she states, and despite her irises being pitch black, they still held emotion.

“well— um,” you were interrupted by the static of the radio, making rosie gasp and smile in delight. she grabs a radio by the nearby coffee table and places it closer.

“oooo, you got here just in time for my good friend alastor’s podcast! quite the charmer, he is!”

his voice filled both of your ears, for a second your face falters with shock and mixed emotion, something that doesn't go unnoticed by the self-built overlord, but it fixed itself right away.

“greetings, dear sinners! it is i, your favorite radio sh…”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

you sat at your desk, scribbling away as you studied on yet another miscellaneous biology lesson. the radio turned on, comfortably listening to your fathers voice as he spoke.

pangenesis refers to the creation of pangenes during one’s lifetime which will then be passed down to the organism’s offspring.

the blending traits theory refers to the combination of traits from the parents. however, this fails to acknowledge the reappearance of traits in next genera…

genetics was truly something. dna wrapped and packed perfectly by histone proteins, compacted in nucleosomes, and turned into the primary foundation of lives.

you and alastor were never related. he scooped you up from some miscellaneous dumpster on the side of the road. it was quite cinematic, actually. right out of a book.

newcomers always questioned your sudden appearance next to him, especially since you looked nothing like him. some assume your father had an act with some women, but those who truly knew of the two of you were ones you hold dear.

“thats it for tonight, folks! its pouring hard, tonight! i better get home and start cookin’ dinner before my daughter starves to death. good night!” his acknowledgement made you smile as the radio filled your ears once more. you turned it off and yawned, shutting the biology textbook in front of you.

some kids at school would ask you who your real parents were. youd always respond the same. you said yes and you always, always responded with your fathers name. they would protest and would ask you for a real answer, in which you continue to justify your answer.

even if the two of you werent bound by blood, you were bound by bond.

thirty minutes later, keys rattled, a door opened.

the sound makes you run down the stairs as you didnt hear his usual announcement of his presence. you skidded down hallways on your socks.

you turned the corner and saw him drenched with rainwater.

“im no genuis, pa, but it seems you got a lil’ water on ya’”

exhaustion evident in his eyes, he still manages to smile and roll his eyes at you.

“hush, now, i know i forgot my umbrella,” very unlike him , “be a dear and grab a towel?”

you laugh and walk to the storage closey and threw him a towel. “you need a lot more than a towel. a shower, new change of clothes..” you smiled “and a nice cup of tea, hm?”

he embraces you in a hug, getting you wet “hey! i already took a bath, you smell like wet dog!”

“aah, am i not allowed to embrace my favorite daughter in a sincere act of my care and love for her?”

“im your only daughter, pa.”

“and you are also my favorite daughter.”

you push him away and roll your eyes, but your bright smile remains, “go shower! ugh, now i need to change..” you stretched out your shirt to examine it. he hung his coat and kicked off his shoes. “shoo, go shower before you catch a cold, ill cook ya somethin’.”

“thank you, dear.”

“anything for you dad.”

anything for you.

[sukunasweetheart]

Thoughts and analysis + rambling on sukuna's character! JJK anime AND manga spoilers below. Pls read with compassion, im not great at articulating my complicated thoughts 🙏

When sukuna told jogo that he shouldve just burned down everything he desired to without worrying abt identity or the future, sukuna was most likely referring to himself,, thats probably how he became so strong

Gege outright said in the official fanbook that its questionable whether the people around him ever considered sukuna human and that he himself most likely didn't think so either. He was nicknamed the king of curses before he even became a cursed object, so sukuna really didnt give a damn abt what he was, or whatever nickname he was given and he just kept doing what he was doing

And he's never referred to himself as the king of curses, it was always the people around him or the literal narrator! Even the famous quote "throughout the heavens and the earth, he alone is the honoured one" was said by the narrator, or by nanami in the season one anime. Not once has sukuna needed to introduce himself to someone, they already knew who he was and/or there was really no need to, since he was going to kill them anyway.

The idea of cannibalism isnt a big deal at all to him, its kind of like a complete and final line where he really crosses over into the non-human area, he literally views everyone else around him as something akin to either a thing to toy around with or to eat.

And this involvement of "cannibalism" is actually very interesting to me, because if he doesnt consider himself human, and other people didn't believe so either, is it really cannibalism? Gege seems to blur these kinds of lines with sukuna so incredibly! Sukuna is always drafting between human and nonhuman, life and death, the honoured one and the disgraced one. He's like everything all at once.

Though his trueform may have extra limbs and mouth, in my opinion he still looks and functions mostly like a human... yet theres also many moments where we realise that he really is far away from the rest of the cast, both in strength and thought.

To show evidence of sukuna drifting between life and death, I'd like to mention how he has spoken soul-to-soul with characters right before their death TWICE now, first being jogo and the other being kashimo... this isnt a coincidence! How was he able to do this? We have no clue, perhaps jogo + kashimo were only hallucinating or maybe sukuna really is able to have a lil chat with someone right before they die like some grim reaper 😭

I think this is what makes him a really poetic character, the way speaks is one thing, but to watch him really reach out and have a conversation with his opponent while they are in a very vulnerable state makes him really like a otherworldly figure (even though he slaughters them right atfter).

He's not a human yet he is still capable of understanding the desires that humans have, and their goals.

I believe sukuna is a really complex and flexible character, I've never really seen someone be so many things at once. He can be serious, strict, playful, goofy, evil with only the tiniest hints of compassion and many more...

[losthomisexual]

Intro/beginners guide to paganism

This is a brief guide based on my personal experiences and research.

What is Paganism?

Now this is a big question with limited evidence but lets go through what we know and how people practice today. A lot of our sources for old religions were written by christians or romans where they could have skewed the original meanings for their own agendas. Christianity played a large role in the loss of these beliefs by ways of genocide, missionaries, renaming holidays and more. My ancestry being European i research more into Celtic, germanic, norse and Anglo-Saxon beliefs but everyone has roots and if traced back far enough we find similar beliefs across the globe. There are also a lot of neopagan religions and beliefs like Wicca and witchcraft with many subcategories.

Paganism for me is about a deeper connection to nature, myself, the spirits of the land and honouring those who’ve come before. Its being grateful for what we have, spending time with our family and friends, being kind and respectful of our surroundings and those within whether thats people, animals or plants. It gives me a bigger perspective, helping to see through hardships and take lessons from them rather than begging the gods for forgiveness or salvation. Even just walking through the bush i get a sense of how small i am in the world, we are all just small cogs in the wheel of time, passing on our lessons and stories through the generations. Norse paganism tends to have more stories than others so i tend to find myself drawn to them for guidance and symbolism. Everything around us has a spirit or a soul all the way from the sky, rain, and thunder to the grass, rocks and dirt beneath our feet, there is spiritual energy everywhere. When it comes to the afterlife i don’t really think about it much but it could be reincarnation, a realm for the dead although nothing like heaven and hell, just a resting place or even something else entirely. Living in the present is more important to me.

So how can you practice paganism?

Seasonal changes are important in paganism as well as the equinoxes and solstices.

Following the natural cycle and staying in tune with it is a simple way to get closer to nature, our ancestors and the spiritual realm. For me i also flip the holidays to suit my climate as i live in Australia so the seasons are inverted.

Many people have altars or sacred spaces in their homes but i also encourage people to go outside and create a space if they can. Whether its just a rock were you place meat or bread offerings or a tree or lake you visit you don’t need much to practice paganism.

If you cant do that thats okay too, light a candle and make an altar out of items you have found and felt a connection to.

Create an inviting, cozy atmosphere and keep it clean and cleansed to avoid unwanted spirits and energies. For holidays you could have a feast and drink beer and wine with friends and family around a fire for instance. Throughout the year theres lots of small ways to feel some magic like following the phases of the moon, cleaning, making things with intention, mindful walks, having a garden or house plants, meditation or working with charms for some examples.

There is no one way to practice and no one can be right, it is all interpretation and feeling.

You can follow a set of gods, pick and choose or none at all. You can perform rituals, spells or divination or not it is not a practice with rules unlike other big religions. Even just the term pagan or animism may be enough for you.

Whether it’s something more modern, a reconstruction or neither, you don’t have to choose a particular path or label just do what feels right to you.

Overall I believe paganism is a way of life, an open way of thinking rooted in nature, gratitude and respect.

[spidercatenthusiast]

5, 6, and 13 for the wotr asks!

@dragonologist-phd @mathlann

doing these all at once because they all jumpscared me this morning. also this got Fucking Long so everything's under the cut

ok so I'm gonna start by throwing a quick rundown of each so theres any context at all

- Mordren: Tiefling (Asura-spawn) Sorcerer (Sage Sorcerer) Demon, Tyranny sub-path & Daeran romance/divorce. lived in nerosyan her whole life & picked up magic from her family, starts to worship Gyronna after her mom dies

- Tamarie: Half-Elf Cayden Cailean Inquisitor (Tactical Leader), Azata path & Arueshalae romance. part of a revolutionary cell in Galt, but ran off when it started getting heated and staying alive felt impossible. my first run and all the wistful vibes i can generate all in one neat package

- Cernan: Aasimar (Plumekith) Zon-Kuthon Warpriest/Fighter, Renegade Aeon into Legend, Wenduag romance. fought in Lastwall & got summarily left for dead before being saved by areelu's intervention, started doing Zon-Kuthon Stuff as a way to get some catharsis and get away from Lastwall. exists in a quantum state where i cant decide if theyre a butch or a straight guy

3. Who is/are their best friend(s) among companions and why?

Mordren vibes really well with Woljif in the early-game, but around Act 4, she gets this appreciation for Greybor as she starts trying to figure out what exactly her future looks like, and overall just respects him. Arueshalae also gets points because they're not friends or anything like it, but I'm thinking especially in Alushinyrra that Arueshalae tries to get through to her a bit, which leads to some in-depth conversations that Mordren wouldn't really have with anyone else.

Sosiel and Tamarie get along pretty well, she has a lot of respect for his reasons for coming to the crusade, even though she doesn't really believe Trever can be found until it actually happens. She's a bit jaded early game so I like how that dynamic works between someone who's seen too much and someone who hasn't seen enough, and they both have a lot of influence on how the other develops over the course of the game. Aivu gets some love too, and has the easiest time of getting a genuine smile out of her.

Cernan doesn't get close to a whole lot of people. Besides Wenduag, they're chill with fallen Arue, Regill, and Lann, but doesn't really befriend any of them. 7 Charisma grindset

5. Do they have a family? If so, what kind? Do they miss them? Do they still have hope to see them again?

Mordren's mostly just had her mom, who'd been a crusader battlemage before having to retire from her injuries, and altogether a pretty good parent to her. Lasting complications from her injuries & overexertion kill her ~4 years before WotR, and she's missed dearly. Rated top spellcaster single mom over the one that fucks around with her kid's soul by a vote of 1-0.

Tamarie's got her parents and a twin brother in Galt, they're all very keep-your-head-down types of people, which she chafes at pre-game and is relieved about from midgame onwards. She writes to them when she can, and gets them situated in a nice place in Mendev afterwards.

Cernan's been presumed dead by their family and tries to stay away since they're just a completely different person from the one their family knew, they still miss them occasionally, but not too badly. I could definitely see them reuniting postgame, but not for very long.

6. Which mythic path did they choose and why? Do they regret it?

Mordren goes for the demon path, she's extremely distrustful of the crusades, and doesn't really buy into the angel power at all. She sees that the demon path is useful against Savamelekh, against the Wardstone, etc, goes for it, and that's how she justifies herself. Her bigger underlying reason is having something of a spiteful streak, in theory she could have went with Azata or Trickster, but at the end of the day she doesn't think they can get anything done, and she wants the raw strength more than anything else. She regrets it sometimes, but not enough that she wouldn't make the same choices given the chance, so she never tries the Legend check despite being 99% sure that Iomedae was going to kill her if she didn't.

Tamarie goes with the Azata path, mostly because she's an idealist at heart. She starts the game just about completely hopeless and definitely dealing with some lingering Galt Trauma, but she tries like hell to fix everything to a pretty unhealthy degree. Seeing Elysium in the Desnan temple is what gives her what she needs to push through the first and second acts, and there's no doubt in her mind to keep with it.

Cernan goes Aeon because I originally wanted to play Devil because they're fascinated by the Aeon's sight, and think it's more useful than anything from the other paths when cultists are everywhere. Unfortunately for them, the experience of seeing the mirror freaks them out, and renegade Aeon doesn't get anything cool besides Staunton. Cernan also gets attached to Wenduag really quickly into her romance, and doesn't want to have to judge her. All of this means they take the first opportunity to switch to Legend, and reconsider some Zon-Kuthon stuff postgame.

8. What do they desire the most?

Mordren's mostly after safety for herself, and later for Daeran. She gets something resembling that in Alushinyrra by staying loyal to Nocticula, but what ends up breaking everything apart is how Daeran is just absolutely not going to live out the rest of his life in the Abyss, and he has no idea that she "survived" jumping into the Worldwound.

Tamarie wants to fix everything for everyone, and she gets pretty close to the best she can do, but becomes weighed down by her failures (more on that later). Once she tempers her expectations, she's much happier with what she can do.

Cernan has absolutely no clue what they want or where they're going until Act 5. Getting the Aeon Stuff out of their system puts everything in a new perspective, they just want to chill out, stop chasing infinite catharsis via torture cult, and be happy, but crucially still weird and evil, with Wenduag.

13. What is their biggest regret regarding their time as the KC?

More than anything else, Mordren wishes that she killed Nocticula when she had the chance. Blaming Nocticula for making her & Daeran impossible is way easier on her than taking any kind of personal responsibility for what she's done. In general, she's also terrified of Nocticula since she showed up before the Nahyndri fight and then gave her this afterwards:

i swear that description was tailor-made to fuel the angst center of my brain. mwah

Tamarie's biggest regret has got to be Wenduag. She's so fixated on trying to help her that she fundamentally does not understand her or where she's coming from, which gets Lann killed in Act 3, Dyra's murder essentially overlooked, herself betrayed in Act 5, and then she spares her again. She might be regretting that for the rest of her days, but at least she's winning the award for Cayden's Strongest Feminist

For Cernan it's mostly just the Aeon stuff from before. Aeon's fucked dude

20. Which event of the crusade traumatized them?

Definitely getting tortured by Hepzamirah for Mordren, it's also what locks her into seeing demon path stuff through to the end, wanting to get stronger so that couldn't happen again. I am forever indignant about how once that segment's over, it never gets brought up again in any of the times you see Hepzamirah, and only in passing at the Ivory Labyrinth.

Tamarie's has to be being too late to save the banner camp at Iz, promising Anevia that she'll bring Irabeth back ends up dooming everyone there, and not being able to save everyone on such a scale is a huge wake-up call for her.

Cernan came largely pre-traumatized, but wading through Undead Hell Hill to get up to the Lost Chapel didn't do them any favors, but they at least got to hit Zacharius with a flail a bunch of times, so all became right with the world.

thanks so much for asking, this was really fun to do!!

[capseycartwright]

i read a writing prompt recently - if you could have a conversation with your 16 year old self, what would you say? - and it’s sort of stuck with me, in a very unexpected way. 

if i could have a conversation with my 16 year old self, what would i tell her? 

i think - well, i know what she’d tell me. 

we’re still here?

i remember what it felt like to be 16. i don’t even really understand why i felt the way i did - on the checklist i would measure my life against, every box was ticked. i had friends, i had a wonderful family, i was a straight A student with the world at her feet, and still, i was plagued by this overwhelming sense of sadness. i know that my 16 year old self would wonder how we ever got over that, and it’s a strange thing to admit, but in all honesty - i don’t know. i don’t remember. 

16, for me, marked the beginning of a journey of self discovery and self acceptance that only feels as though it has reached a point of fruition recently. when you’re 21, and you think you know everything and you’re terribly grown up and independent, you don’t want to believe what others say: your brain doesn’t mature until 25. how can that be true, when you’re 21 and you’re the smartest person in every room you’re in? 

the thing is - i turned 27, three months ago, and its the first time in my life i feel well and truly settled in my own skin, and theres truth to this idea that your brain doesn’t develop until you’re 25, because you have a half a decades worth of mistakes to make before you reach your mid twenties and find that you’re finally hitting your own stride.

i’d tell my 16 year old self that. 

i would say - please, stop believing that you need to be perfect. 16 is the age you get to be a bit silly. so is 19, and 21, and 23 - for a whole host of different reasons. at 19, you’ll be dancing on tables at your student union bar and you’ll finally feel like you’ve found your place in the world. at 21, you’ll do something insane, and apply for a masters in a country you barely know, all in the name of adventure. and at 23, and you’ll get your first real job and you’ll find yourself dancing on another set of tables, at the beginning of a chapter of your life that will stretch on far longer than school, or university ever did.

i would tell her that too.

i would reassure her that one day, secondary school will be a distant memory, and you’ll barely remember the way your uniform itched against your skin and how you always felt like you were on the outside looking in. i’d tell her - a little sadly, to be fair - that while university will forever be some of the best years of her life, the true beauty of the experience is in its briefness. that it will be over, before you know it: but she’ll carry those years, and those people, with her for the rest of her life. 

i would tell her that adulthood is so much more than you could have ever dreamed it to be. it’s more overwhelming, and more sad, and more beautiful, and funny, and more brilliant than she could have ever dreamed, sitting in her bed, hiding under the blankets at 2am, writing about a fantasy life she hoped she might get to live. 

i would tell her that it gets better. and it gets worse. and it gets better, again, and that life is a infinite cycle of love and loss and adventure and endings and so as you grow up you learn to accept that some things don’t last forever but that doesn’t lessen their impact on your life. 

(i loved you for a year - and i’ll carry the scars of that love for the rest of my life. not bad scars, no - the kind you look at, every so often, and smile, because its a scar you got from falling off a swing, or riding your bike a little too fast - every scar you left on my soul is one that triggers a happy memory.)

i would tell her that she’ll fall in love - more than once - and maybe it doesn’t align to her fantasies of loving just one person forever but that there is beauty in the way that love doesn’t last forever. there’s pain, too - but there’s beauty in the way that some people are not meant to be in your life forever but the things they teach you remain long after they leave. 

she’d ask, i know, why i gave up on our dreams -

and so i would tell her, that sometimes, you have to give up on your greatest dreams to discover there’s been something even greater hiding in the dustiest depths of your brain, waiting to be embraced. i would tell her that dreams are strange and ever-changing and i would promise her that by 27, she will have achieved dreams she hadn’t even been capable of dreaming up at 16. 

i would tell her that the best - and worst - is yet to come, and that every second of it leads her to here: 27, and in the midst of a chapter of my life that i will one day write about with a kind of fondness and gentleness i can’t quite explain. that this year, she’ll meet people i think she’ll keep forever. and that every day, she’ll wake up with a purpose she was convinced she’d never get to have.

(we’re still here? yes - and we’re happy, i promise.)

and really, i wouldn’t tell her any of this -

because the beauty of my life has been in the way i have learned to love it despite all of the ways i have tried to tell myself it wasn’t worth loving at all. 

[brainsoupi]

It feels like my whole life is practicing, but practicing for what? I can’t see a destination, a big event. Im just doing things, and getting better at them and growing and flowering and unfolding. Like, I got out of my own way and let life happen to me. It’s wonderful, exhilarating. I feel a connection to all, in a beautiful dance- but a dream. I see now, it’s all for fun. We are playing, we are pretending, meeting each other as if we haven’t know each other for centuries, getting excited and angry and sad but only ever pretending. This is a lighthearted game I’m playing, meeting people, sharing smiles and laughs, getting a little bit shy, but its okay because that’s part of the game, I’m playing my role. Im looking for me in you. I love this game,  I love my role. 

Blog//

My eyes no longer looked around like voids, sucking in anything, seeking, looking for something,. Now they were glass, reflecting, seeing , really seeing. Loving. I was open, my heart. The softness I assumed was attractive, or at the very least enticing. I saw eyes looking at mine. I replied accordingly. Every word spoken was just me whispering “I love you. I love you” very silently. I tell you with my eyes too, I say “I see you,” very very softly. The actual words were meaningless, just signs, or symbols, asking about your jewelry and “oh you made it? thats wonderful how did you do it? Oh clay? wow... I want to make rings. Oh you can make rings with clay too? oh wow.”

With my glass eyes I realize my likes and dislikes are okay, because I see beyond them, and they guide me. I dont have to be friends with everybody. I like some people more than others, but i love everyone, for how could I not? They are me. Theres no other way to be. this is the best way.

I just came out of another dark night of the soul lol. I look back and just see lessons, so much drama for me to overcome, and i did! I really went through it, like climbing up the circular staircase. I love tarot, i’ve been watching youtube video readings from an astrologer I like every few days or when I feel called to it and they’ve really been painting an accurate, insightful picture, i’ve been planning and loving and opening up and turning on and its all been so great. One thing i use as a mantra is “theres nothing better than this” when i need to be centered, i’ve found it works really well. I know myself enough to know what to do when and how; even if theres anything to do, because sometimes you just need to sit with it. I haven’t been looking outside of myself for the cure as much at all, I know whats best for me. When I first read “the power of now” I didn’t believe that nasty thoughts and habits would naturally dissolve without being forceful, but now its one of the most sacred things i’ve learned. Im so grateful.

[maryelizagreg]

Cant believe my mother had the audacity to insinuate the unfortunate things happening to me were entirely my fault yes theres taking responsibility for yourself (which if you don’t do,… no can do) but, also mmm…. It just shows how tone deaf you are to understanding like, what I’m… going through. Like, it shows how little you understand. Or, even try to, understand. And that just baffles me that, if you have a child who is sick and in psychiatric care for years- years. On like, ten different medications. Maybe you might try to fucking understand for 2 seconds. But not once have either of them looked into wanting to or trying to understand not even for a second, with me, within their mind, within their free time, within conversations- with others, and between each other. It’s just, total outsiders. Like, no one is standing in my circle, and it just, that feeling can be difficult to handle in itself, regardless of why you might feel that way, or how rational or valid it might be (it could be an irrational emotion, thats like, a bit, dysregulated or coming from, you know, unearthing some sort of deep seated, thing) but…. Hm… triggering a sensitive chord or whatever. You know striking a chord for you personally.. but mmm

That’s beside the point like,… all of this is beside the point…

Taber, i never met someone so exhausting in my life.

Raquel, I never tasted someone so fucking sweet. Looking back on it, because I was unhealed, I was completely toxic to her, in a way. Though I loved her in every way possible, I really needed to get my shit straight before I could properly treat someone like this right, and she deserved better- and she, figured that out very quickly, and saw it very clearly- but never like, revealed those cards to me, she was never very transparent and so… holding your cards extremely close like that is kind of, an awkward relationship you know.

Jose, was dark and bitter like vitriol, and stung like a snake- as he wrapped his coils around me tighter, and tighter, and tighter… it never ceases. I could not escape your grip. When you finally

Ashley, Ethan- Leo… gosh. I just don’t understand why people come to me, out of no where, always when they are in their darkest place in life. But they do…. Effie, Sam.

Friends or relationships a like.

I’m not sure if I come off as a vulnerable but safe place to land- or, give off a healing energy of safety, security, kindness, compassion-

Or if people just, open their wounds in front of me, and use me as a practice dummy to heal themselves on, sort of like some sort of magic crystal they rub all over themselves and quickly get addicted to like some sort of substance-

Always leaving me high and dry though- seems to be the pattern. I give my all and then when you’ve had your fill, you suddenly aren’t so scared to lose me.

And so this, makes me feel like my value, is very low. I can’t define myself by the relationships I’ve had.

But I’ve never, had someone…. Treat me right. In my fucking life. Sarah, sam, Alex. Cali.

Even the kindest souls, were the most back stabbing and hurtful- in the end, and in full truth, in full light shed on their darkest shadowy places. The cold hard reality, the dark side of the moon, the yin and yang of their human nature I saw plainly both sides at the same time, and have no reaction to it.

This terrifies most people, and to some, they fear someone who evokes this, more than most things…. In life,

And- others… are repeled, reflexive, twitching in response to my energy, as whatever is rotten inside comes thrusting out, and they’re burning, like I am a fire- cleansing t hem of all their impurities, some self combust practically

Others, its like a moth to a flame.

I’ve been described by many as intoxicating, and I think its strange that people have used that word to describe me multiple times.

I think its strange to watch the people who have followed and chased after me, as if, I had something they really, wanted or needed from me-

The more of myself I showed, the worse it got. You know-

And I really had nothing to give I’m just there observing like, empty space, a blank zero in time, a stand still, a pause, a purgatory.

And people just kind of seem to, if they don’t have their head on really straight you know, get kind of lost in this, energy or my aura. They may find it alluring, in a euphoric or peaceful way. Familiar, like you’ve known me forever-

But it’s just, the trauma talking- you know. You relate to the sad things that happened to me maybe, the way in which I stand in reality, my perspective, it’s, an easy light to absorb, the light reflects off me like a wall- very softly, and its easy on the eyes like, you drink me in and its, a warm, round, feeling though real- and bitter, like wine, I entice you for another sip, and another until you’re drunk off me, and you don’t even know what it is- I linger on the tip of your tongue, for the rest of your life you remember the distinction, a rare wine, that has aged, over a very, very long time, an old soul, refined-

And I have a way of putting things into words, and, holding your heart in my hands, just softly enough, you feel, trust. You feel, my experience. My soul, wraps around you, an incandescent light, I lift you off your feet a little, make you forget the world, lighten your burdens, shed light on the beautiful parts, of your heart- your identity, your mind, your being. You blossom underneath me like the sun, and spread wide like a vine,

….. and I don’;t know, why. But, I’m not looking to be, this, for anyone. This is just, what I’ve witnessed and observed.

My taste is certainly not for everyone, it may even be acquired- no, it most definitely is…

After all this time I’m still writing to myself, and not really caring what I say, but the words just sew themselves together and its like I”m putting on a romantic charade, but it’s just pouring out of me, incomprehensible rate, … poetry, that is just words spilling onto the paper, thoughts and images colliding, and…. It’s rather unconscious and, rambling, and unedited. Raw,.. stream of consciousness.

Some would argue it is flow state. So, this is a Buddhist, approach or philosophy- its oriented in, that sort of perspective in which, everything you need is already inside you….

That we walk on our own, individual paths, home. Our own individual journey’s… as Paulo cheollo wrote, we’re all just here to walk each other home. Whether it’s true or not, (objective truth is hard concept to understand, no doubt) but, it’s a nice warm sentiment, that people like to hear, and want to believe. It’s easy and seductive on the ears, for every pained soul, and torn ligament… for a moment, a morphine like elixir, to make the pain stop, the loneliness numb, the connection to humanity- and freedom from the grips of, it’s beguiled parts and exiled demonic… ensnares, entrapments, incessant trials, tribulation- and tragedy. It is a safe place to break, and rest- a home. A comfort, book.

It sells well, it’s marketable, its, satisfying, its entertaining- but what if these are not the important parts of what an artist does, the responsibility of an artist, what art is meant for, and to do. Obviously, it’s a medium to work through, with energy, entanglements, with others- mmmm, for these energy workers what their, capabilities are, geared toward or what their called to do, and how they resonate is not- their choice, but rather a natural and intuitive, almost accidental place they find themselves landing upon…

We have this illusion of control and choice but life finds us wrapped up in it like an insect in a web, it’s hard, to be, a spider.

This is not the nature of what we are, or how our, survival, and our, living, truly works, and unfolds, in all plain and open observation of reality.

There is a balance between the baseline and the complete metaphysical, and I understand it well. I walk on this fine line, like a type rope, and it please me to do so..

This is just what is in my nature, this is just what I was meant for to be, etc. and, you are what you were meant to be. It’s okay, that we are different. I love the way you are, who you are, even your most rotten parts, and most shameful flaws.

Yeah, societally, all these things might matter- but there is also a lot of spaces, and places where, none of it does. And some have chosen to open that gate, and walk to that place, but just mind you, it’s very dangerous place and, to walk through it, is not for the faint of heart, or those not used to navigating, within its predatory, illusory maze- and surprising, adventure that comes in the form, of adversaries- transformational, but painstaking tragedy, you remain calm while planes fall out of the sky, buildings burn, and you hold a mans beating heart in your hands, blood covering your face. It is a war zone… torn apart by rubble, and the cries, and screams, of your brothers and sisters.

If you walk in these places, just know, there will be people who followed you in. As this is the natural flow, of our energy, in the physical and metaphysical forces. Operating clandestine, and spontaneous- rudimentary in sync, and at the time, completely and perfectly unpredictable. And uncontrollable, atomic particles, and matters of physics.

All the people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting along the way have been such a delight, an experience… to taste, to touch, to feel. To know. As we pass by each other, like blades of grass, rustling against each other in the wind. The beautiful scenes we make, thousands of us, dancing as our shadows and light, mix together and create psychedelic patterns, and beautiful song,

Nature is harmonious and indefinite, determined, this way. Almost, as if, it was all, exactly on purpose- every little detail, every little spark, every star, placed, just so- on purpose. We are part of this nature, and so in theory and in philosophy, I embrace this …. Observation, as it is.

The fact we parallel nature isn’t lost on many but, yet, it is still often forgotten, at some degrees. We are willing to accept that we are nature, and the nature of man- until, a certain point, and then comes, denial at the points at which we become uncomfortable to admit- we don[t understand, and don’t have control over these things- we deseperately wish we did.

A…. An innate, survival need for, dominance, total control, lack of powerlessness- to, win and, to have been won- is like getting one over on the universe, and everything about it that scares us, so we can place ourselves in our minds eye, as powerful and in control, all knowing beings.

But this couldn’t be further from the truth and we all know it. We are all lost, we are all blind, we are all flawed, we are all unmistakably broken. We all need each other. We don’t know why, totally. We feel a sense of soul, and heart, and a need, for a higher power. We question things, we know we can never find real answers to. We cuddle up by fire, and other warm bodies, because this is in our very nature to find this constant safety, this constant reminder, a distraction from the cold night of truth, a minty cold breath of fresh air to remind us when we wake, though we can be at peace with this darkness and facts of life, there is pain, there is unfairness, there are times, were our young, are stripped from our bodies, and tearing us apart from the inside out. We can watch, each other as we are ripped apart by lions, and picked apart bone by bone. We are aware we come into this world alone, and die, alone. We are aware of our need for autonomy, to bravely and boldly exist in this world, and yet, in all efforts, hoping to be scathing innocently by on all of this worlds deadly and fatal consequences. Reality, hurts, like a knife. It is the other side, it is our dark nights.

And then we have day, and sun. And

We have both, the sun, and the moon, always there, orbiting us in perfect unison and harmony, balance. Constantly, always. Watching, and going, around, and around, and around…. And around, and around, until one day, the celestial bodies become unwound, and fall off its hinges, degrading and distilled, the universe, untethering itself and by osmosis, everything that was, becomes, something else, seemingly, autonomously. Working like a clock, shifting around, gears grinding as they are set to be, until they breakdown, under the elements.

This is the great infinite vastness of god, he is beyond this. He is far beyond all of this, in space, and time. He is far beyond us. All we can do, is observe the forces, that move us around, as we are shifted by the great tides, and cresting waves, pulling us under toe. Drowning in the glassy cold water, in one fell swoop, we gracefully fall under its spell.

We are nothing but grains of sand, atomic particles, and van der walls forces… yet, without us, and our tiny chemical reactions, our beautiful synapses, our brief, and intangible interactions- that cannot be captured, with pictures, sounds, images, or words-

Without us, there would be nothing… and nothingness. God is beyond us, he let us be, and we question it, for no reason. Why not follow the instruction of the divine, even if its a futile attempt, at doing something right in this world. At least, we can say, we tried. If there is a God, we shouldn’t have any questions at all.

And this is how I know…. If you, an atheist, do not have this peace of Jesus, resting in him. I can sense this, spiritually, energetically, etc. there is evidence, and his, spirit, washes us clean.

You are a wolf in sheep’s clothing, pretending to be something, that you don’t even know, how to spell.

[tarotbiscuits]

tbh its ok to be blunt i mean what else can you write besides what you get info wise? imho i like the fun aspect of not knowing the exact answer or not wanting an exact true answer even if i dont always fully believe it because theres so much we dont know about anything really. so these games force you to take it with a pinch of salt but even if its not always what u want to hear or read. makes these games more fun when u expect the wrong answer instead of the answer u want to hear.

i been surprised and dissapointed sometimes but at the end of the day we never always get what we want in life anyway. like i aksed awhile ago on someone elses game and got a yes and i was like huh? cause i didnt believe it. i think people have become too desperate over recent times that if it not what they want they get mad about it.

Some people participate in tarot games because they're already suspecting something and need confirmation, but even these "suspicions" can be good or bad. They're good when you accept reality as it is and like you said, take them with a pinch of salt. They're bad when you deny reality and you keep asking every tarot reader the same question until you get the answer you want. This can become borderline obsessive. I myself went through several periods of time when i used to ask about different guys: "does he like me?", "does he still think about me?" every day for weeks on end and i would believe everything i got. There's a very thin line between using tarot for fun and taking it a bit too seriously. Tbh, i love doing these tarot games bc it helps me detach from my own questions, which can become repetitive.

I've also noticed this phenomena in the astroblr community. Maybe you know, i have an astro blog too, way more popular than this one. I barely post on there because people look for a validation boost or an ego boost. I've changed and evolved a lot since i started the blog. I started studying traditional astrology and it opened a whole new world for me, far more exciting than everything i knew about modern astrology up to that point. I tried teaching people and i always felt misunderstood. It's almost as if nothing else matters if it doesn't resemble what you already know to some degree. If it's not a post about "beauty placements" or "intimidating placements" or just basic, general observations, people aren't that interested. It sucks the soul out of me to limit my creative side just to appeal to some people's egos, so i don't. But yeah, this is another discussion and ik i went waayyy off from your ask. Lmk what you think!

[outsidereveries]

so I got two questions for you, when you do tarot have you ever dreamt of idols? other tarot readers seem to have such bizzare dreams of idols and their groups and I had only one memorable dream of skz but I do not think I am connected to them in anyway, as I dont do tarot its jsut an interesting subject I like, not even in the 5D but the dream reminded me of their song megaverse so my second question is about that.

do you or anyone know where skz got the songtitle megaverse from? it interests me bc I wonder recently if there is megaverse outside this planet. Or why we only stuck on this planet in this life if we dont like it why is this all we have to experience? nothing too fun no super powers nothing ordinary except for all the shit in the media and on our phones.

I also once had dream of skz some time ago and it was like they had some type of super powers could run faster and there was something on their arms too, an arm strap with lots of buttons it was such a bizzarre dream bc I dont and rarely dream of idols I specifically remember seeing felix and bangchan then I woke up and was like what the hell. I'm mainly just a listener rather than a follower so again I dont particularly feel deeply obsessed with this group.

I think that could have been the 5d, what do you think? some tarot readers even have more interesting dreams of say jungkook with his fs and so on. I feel like theres so much we dont know or wont ever know but like ordinary life is too plain and boring but I wouldnt want a life of wealth either bc I shouldnt need money or education to decide how I spend rest of my life. outside of tarot what else do you tend to believe in to do with the universe or past vs present and so on?

to be honest, i extemely rarely dream about idols (more rarely than "seldom"). last time it happened was 3-4 years ago with loona, maybe heejin, i believe so? even if i dreamt about someone in the industry recently, i probably won't remember, tarot doesn't influence me to this extent. i usually dream about my future or how i had my day no matter if it's about from a few days ago or literally yesterday. only now i started to dream about my twin flame? and even so it happens from time to time and not occasionally (i've "learned" he tried to get into my dreams but i didn't let his soul to do that😭)

in this case since i can dream about how my day went, i usually dream about other public people, i.e. local politicians but i believe it's pretty much up to there, it's not anything special to me tbh, it's just oridinary things inside of me.

i have no clue from where skz have come from the title megaverse from their rockstar b-side but i've had wonders in the past about these questions you have too. it got away bc i usually believe in this stuff, but i can feel that the question that's more interesting to think is why the 5d universe is sort of taboo? i mean, we're in a century that the spirituality, related to the energies is "trending", why it's still a taboo?

i recently have dreamt of having superpowers too but it was related to me unlocking the rest of my chakras (i've had my third eye open but the rest were not as open as now tbh😭) and instead of skz, i got them but remembering the rest of my dream, it explains why and it's personal stuff

the 5d is more than the dreams we have, but they can be the start of entering into the 5d universe tbh, so.. yeah; if you are obsessed over someone and their future life ofc you'll start to dream about it, but i am also aware that it's not the only case you'll dream about someone famous😭

about my religion though, i'm baptized (orthodox christian, to be exact), but i haven't always fully believe in the religion like some people do. to me there's the difference between the believers in a religion and doing whatever you feel it's right and the obsessed christians who follow everything like it's a must as it's pretty much unhealthy to me. i don't even want to think about religion cults.

nowadays i really feel i am more believing into the orthodox christian religion than i usually felt in the past but also tuning myself with my awareness of the universe, spirituality and etc. and etc. as it works out for me the best and i believe it should work like that for anything else as the religions shouldn't be usually believed strictly imho but my beliefs might be like they're now possibly bc of the tf journey i'm in so it might be unsuprising at all if i have to be extremely honest

[vaderatemydog]

I’m the kind of person who when I’m trying to be a friend to someone for the first time or trying to date someone for the first time I want to leave a mark and go to the extreme. Does that make me an extremist? Like if we’re hanging out as friends I’m gonna be the one to prank call someone in your friends list and call them anonymously so we can pretend we’re firing them from their job or if I’m dating someone I want to make them uncomfortable for a brief moment and pick them up and bench press them. It’s not that I’m always trying to be something extra but trying to avoid hitting some walls and just going straight for the home run to make some progress and some laughs. And then people still forget me tho lol i gotta work on my delivery. It doesn’t have to be a competition but just let me do the work of removing the awkwardness by being the awkwardness and that should pave the way for a better time. I’ve always been one to kind of overwhelm someone’s boundaries and take a chance that they open up but I’ve gotten myself in trouble so back to being boring again. From a guys perspective and coming from a place of trying to be vulnerable and while blending with something that’s unique and specially formulated for a special person, you can literally lay it all on the line and open your heart only to be completely rejected. It’s so easy for most women as they’re just supposed to be pretty and at the very least be as single possible while still communicating a bit with a guy you believe in. Someone who’d go to jail for you, cry and be rejected by, burned with choosing other guys and ultimately disliked probably. If a guy can suffer through all that and be resilient enough to find a lane that works, he must be a pretty understanding soul who knows he’s not perfect and makes mistakes. At the end of the day things don’t always come together as planned and theres always tomorrow to work on the puzzle some more. For a guy to still be trying and open to criticism says a lot. It may n out always feel like a guys trying, but if he’s tackling rejection and trying to rebuild himself and has the balls to go at it again, you gotta give us credit. It would be far too easy to just give up completely and just stay single or try with another separate person. But we want what’s familiar, we want to feel as if boundaries have been removed and progress has been made. There’s no perfect transition into someone’s life. There’s always going to be discomfort at some level that needs to be tended to. Again coming from a guy it does feel quite often like the best method for finding a solid partner is to work with a constant and that is change, but at the end of the day, it’s too much work. Life’s too short to do that when you come to a standstill. The amount of people we meet in a lifetime is a lot and the chances of finding that one in that collection is pretty strong. And it’s not always black and white so sometimes that means taking a couple steps back and smelling the flowers, meeting that person wherever you see fit. I’m the rain, mud, library, McDonald’s, wherever as long as you can handle the awkwardness of the past and still don’t hate them, I would say the chances of making things work are strong. I really don’t have too many people of my past that I hate so I would say that’s a pretty good rule to live by. And we all know you never pick a partner just by looks alone cause that shit doesn’t last lol I like the weird, quirky, nerdy, a bit mean, classy type. I’m forgiving so I require the same. Life’s too short to be with someone that holds grudges. Give me that blank slate everyday and I’ll do the same. Anyhow, this was a long ramble. See ya

[boyheros]

Sigh ok. Holy day today to those who celebrate & i keep thinking about ~the religion~ in mvrck. maybe i should give it a name but idfk what I'd call it. Anywho it's based on the fact everyone basically died and then one day started getting reincarnated & coming back to life. No one knows who did that or how or why so yippee new god!!!

Theres separate ones for life & death because reincarnation requires both but some ppl view em as a single entity. ALTHOUGH black is associated with life (based on base black -> basically spirit goo that glues your soul to your body. If you don't have it you're fucking finished bro) and white, as the opposite and absence of black, is associated with death, but only conceptually. Some people (ahem. The facestealer. Reo a little. Some others once they become....enlightened) Claim there IS an actual opposite of base black called pure white. It's essentially what you see in the moment you died (light of the end of the tunnel type thing) and the Facestealer is particularly adamant that 'pure white' is what causes souls to become 'realized' which makes em stick around after death

By principle the religion excludes natural born ppl. It's based upon reincarnation! Those people aren't reincarnated and they won't be when they die! This does not typically result in like bias on its own, but this combined with the fact that natural borns "feel odd" can have bad results. (They feel odd because ppl with souls unconsciously sense other ppls souls like fuckin ESP. naturals don't have realized souls so they have no presence essentially.) Besides that it does frequently get awkward...... Maverick gets invited to service one day and just as quickly uninvited.

Some people do remember VAGUELY what happened when they were reincarnated, which results in some mythos. Although what "god" looks like is heavily dependent on the person cuz lots of reincarnation stuff kinda happens in their heads? Like mindscape-y? But they're only souls at the time.... Soulscape? Idk either way. If some people really believe there's a god they'll picture something more elaborate & in line with that. If you don't, you might not recall the experience at all, just waking up once it's over. If you're Reo, you'll know and perceive the truth, even if you do not remember it.

Also reincarnated people will use their locket necklaces like rosaries when praying. alright.

[nacaharachuya]

boycaca: (Im hoping you can answer to my submissions now since im assuming the reason you weren’t able to previously was bc i had to verify my email… smh i sat there trying to figure out how to do it for a few minutes man I’m telling you I’m in my boomer era 😭☝️

ANYWAYS watching you talk about how the idea/possibility of dazai being fit is not completely bonkers since he’s not actually weak and how bones twinkified him and took away his broad shoulders on twitter gives me life. You’re so right. They made my guy SKELETAL (alongside every other character tbh) in the anime and i cannot forgive that

Listen i get the prettyboy dazai belief I completely understand it but.. aurgh HANDSOME dazai is sumn else… i will forever cling to the idea that dazai is more of a handsome prettyboy than a beautiful prettyboy like a lifeline (does that even make sense) like i want harukawa to draw dazai without his shirt off not in a horny way but because i gotta see his shoulders underneath those clothes PLEASE 🙏 (okay so maybe i do say this in a horny way… only a little)

Istg if i were to achieve my dream art style i would draw dazai all day everyday you dont even understand. I’d probably start drawing the mf on my walls at some point because the way i would draw him similarly to spike from cowboy bebop is insane. Spike is one of the very few fictional characters that i am actually attracted to and despite the fact that i am not attracted to any bsd character i am so set on believing that dazai has a similar vibe to him. I can just feel it in my bones my skin my soul theres something about dazai that COULD be like spike. If i just tweaked him a liiiiiittle bit… the dazai i imagine in my mind would end up as another fictional crush (delusional) )

boycaca i think we're like the same person cause I LITERALLY AGREE SO HARD??!?!?!?!?!?! They twinked a lot of characters because bones decided to animate it differently than they had other mangas at that point. Usually, they were super good with staying on point with the style of the manga like noragami or vanitas or fma but GODDAMN THEY DROPPED THE BALL INTO ACID OR SOMETHING WITH BSD. harukawas style is so fluid and beautiful so maybe it would be harder for them to animate, but the extreme body changing I just hate. It's not only dazai ofc there's several other characters that got nerfed but dazai they sillified and twinkified and that has made me so sad.

I also just want to see them all lined up with their body types and SPIKE SPIEGEL FITS DAZAI SO WELL?? COWBOY BEBOP IS ONE OF MY ULT FAVS AND DAZAI AND SPIKE ARE WEIRDLY SIMILAR YOU GET IT!!!!!!!!!! The body type is broader shoulders and a slimmer waist (which tbh is just more of a masculine body type ik) is what dazai has but bones makes them look so...sick and skinny. I'm the world's biggest hater for them taking away the broad shoulders. like I think dazai has a natural classic beauty to him that makes him pleasant to look at because he's got an easy-to-digest face, but he is ultimately handsome. I have a few artists that have drawn him perfectly in my mind and it fits with his description of being a tall, lean, handsome man [look up @byuntaman on twt their dazai and chuu is perfect] I don't see him as very weak because there really is no basis to it when you are comparing him to chuuya. Chuuya's job was to bring the brawn and he was expected of that from the time of being with the Sheep, so naturally, when he's in the mafia he's going to keep up his reputation of being THE STRONG DUDE. It's unfair to compare Dazai to him tbh. Also, the pm trains their members, I'm guessing Dazai would go through that because Mori is not going to be willing to lose him from lack of prep. Yes, dazai is smart, but smarts don't get you out of a chokehold T_T.

I could rant about this all day long, but I think people just live with silly dazai too much and forget he's a capable person who can also defend himself and not just by manipulating the situation. It's a little far-fetched to think dazai can control EVERYTHING to the point of basically winning fights with his mind. like. no.

[onwriting-hrarby]

theres so many good things i could say about sunshine and rainbows honestly its so hard to pick a favourite part!! but for me, i really really loved when it was the performance night at the end, and we watched it in erens pov. like legit my heart fluttered at the way the author wrote it, i could truly honestly feel how high up against the world mikasa is seen by eren, the genuine way his whole heart and soul believes her to be his only goddess. that particular scene the way it was decribed and executed was so magical to me. they’re two very different scenes, but that scene had as much impact and magic on me as that scene in “instead they said” where em makes love in the sea!! so incredible so much depth and beauty. i literally held my breath youre so good

but i think the angst as sad as it was really was what kept me hooked to sunshine and rainbow. i legit felt like i was torturing myself reading mikasas pov after she caught eren and hisu. legit tears in my eyes and my heart ached so baaad. that level of insecurity and feeling of inadequacy mikasa felt had felt so horrible even to me as a reader. theres just something so vile in the feeling of betrayal and jealousy and how it eats on your skin. (tbh i looooove reading that in em fanfics, it hurts so bad but its such good angst😩 idk why i keep torturing myself)

but yeah same here, i wouldve probably reacted like sasha, it was actually hard for me to empathise with hisu even because in earlier chapters she wasnt really that nice to mikasa. i believe sunshine and rainbows mikasa is an actually whole saint to have sympathised and requested eren to go talk and apologise to hisu, not sure if i wouldve done that myself no ones built like mikasa lol. but yeah i do commend the way the author had somewhat villainize historia (in a writing perspective) where its hard to completely empathise with this character knowing what shes like in other scenes. now that i think about it, her flawed character reminds me of RJ historia where we cant fully empathise with her because she had some inherent racism herself right? like the way she viewed RJ mikasa or compared her struggle to poc’s and minorities. its like a hate love relationship between us and its characters. i love love love it when writers really make you think about how you feel about a character

sorry im rabbling, please stop me if you dont feel comfortable!!

Oh please, not at all, I love rambling AND i love interacting, so feel free!

You're completely right about Mikasa's pov after cheating!!! I had forgotten about that chapter and I really liked the way the author relied on just one sentence that Mikasa kept repeating to ensure that angst and confusion. I've never been in a cheatin situation but I have felt the inequacy of being you multiple times, and it hit hard. I could empathize with Mikasa much more than with Eren in that fic, mostly because I am tired of the "I'm so hurt I'm not a good person" narrative. I've had some friends who went through something similar to Eren, and they kind of passed their bad behaviour through hurt. But for me, there are no excuses to hurt others. I did empatize with Historia, though! I have been in competitive groups like dancing and that kind of relationships exists, and the way it was portrayed it felt very real that H and M wouldn't have had a good relationship because Historia feels threatened. I don't feel that Mikasa was a saint, though, because the cheating was Eren's fault, not Historia!

Yes, it's a hate-love relationship with our characters snd the way we craft them, and I think that' the beauty of not creating purely good characters or people. We humans are not pure at all! We might want good things but we also hurt a lot. It's complicated to manage expectation as readers, too! But those kind of stories that made us feel all wrong are the best because we get to go deep inside a character enough to be willing to understand them, while we would have turned the other way in real life.

(Ps: thank you very much for your nice words about Rj and ITS! I can't believe someone remembers that fic. I am torn about uploading it again but I want my sis to read it before so I know whether to turn it into a novel or not!)

[meiffel-tower]

In yet another experience supporting my trust of my gut/intuition, my sister just sent me a picture of the card her husband gave her and I saw that he specifically wrote "you are super special to me" and yesterday I wrote "you're extremely special to me" in my own birthday message to her. Neither of us wrote a huge flowery paragraph, we both did just 2-3 short but genuine sentences. And like one of the things I've always liked about him is that i feel like we both love my sister in similar ways, and anyways yeah this was just a little thing that just validated my belief that we're similar in some ways lol (and my personal theory that I might end up with a guy with a personality/way of loving me similar to my sister's lmao)

I just think it's interesting how we're drawn to certain types of people and you can kind of feel it even before you really know them that well

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much 

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

-

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?” 

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.  

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

-

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?”  Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

-

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

-

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

-

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

-

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

-

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.  

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of  how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,”  you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

-

[a-romantic--aromantic]

How does one figure out if they are romo-aro and not just allo? I ask cuz I've wondered about being both ace and aro before, but romance is something I really love. Unlike a lot of aros I have always felt drawn to the idea of having a 'soul mate' connection with someone, a mutual devotion, yet I basically am not attracted sexually or romantically to anyone irl. I never date or have sex. The main focus of my attraction has been to fictional characters and more recently, system members. But I've never felt like I belonged in the aroace community because of how connected I feel to something that many in the community despise.

I think being drawn to identifying as aromantic is all you really need, and if you feel like romo aro describes how you feel about it that’s enough.

like. okay. so i have been partnering my whole life, dated a ton of people since middle school, plan on having a life partner (or 2) and probably getting married. i think i do believe in some sort of soulmates (for me, at least, but ive got a Thing with luck). romance is and always has been important to me, and so has when ive experienced romantic attraction. but my aromanticism has shaped my experiences and identity a Lot, and the way it, and the community has affected me is really important to me. its done a lot for me and being able to understand my experiences and romanticism *through* my aromanticism has undoubtedly impacted me in unimaginable and life-changing ways. being able to be aro, and accept that i like romance and that the way i experience my attraction is different has helped me understand both myself and the world around me.

ultimately, you can be aro, or you can be allo. and youre allowed to call yourself aro and later on find out that it didnt exactly fit. it sounds like you dont experience attraction, and thats really all it takes. but if not or if that changes, theres no harm in trying it out or learning about the community. the worst that can come from it is that you’ll learn something about yourself and understand yourself better. being part of the community will challenge your expectations and change your understanding of how the world views non-romantic, single, or otherwise independent people. a lot of allo people come out of questioning it feeling a lot more comfortable with being single.

if youre drawn towards it i say go for it. and liking romance and romantic concepts, or even romantic relationships, isn’t necessarily contradictory to what it means to be aromantic. its all about you. your feelings and attraction and experiences. its all up to you and i cant tell you the answer to who you are. but i think you should definitely play with it to find out. who you are today doesnt have to be who you are tomorrow.