#i think it is hard to write multiple fucked-up storylines at once and make them make sense and make them both compelling.

[waterbearable]

like. i don’t even think it’s better necessarily, but if the only person with actual buy-in on the hunt aside from lottie was van (i don’t really buy tai as having committed here, she’s just going along w van which i think does repeat old patterns), then why not just to subdue lottie from the start? like i GUESS it’s some attempt to suggest groupthink but as soon as lottie starts trying to pursue shauna why would you make it seem like you’re also trying to get her? like i could see at least a couple of them trying to subdue lottie, lottie+van trying to fight them off, chaos/giving into the violence ensues. idk it just does not work for me and the outcome...ehhh

(more in the tags srry but for my non-yj folks cw for mentions of ideation, overdose, addiction)

[mamirhodessxox]

I Hate You More (Part 4)

Mafia!Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Mafia Reader

(Sasha Francesca Ricci)

Enemies to lovers trope

Credits to @alyyaanna for helping me come up w the storyline because I had like 3 different mental breakdowns trying to figure out what to do

Storyline: Sasha was born into a world of darkness and fear, Despite the harsh circumstances she was out in she managed to drag herself into finding love at a young age especially when she least expected it but unfortunately not all love stories are fairytales, Sasha resented the man who once brought her love in her life just to leave and break her heart while having the audacity to invade her life many years once again and give her conflict of love and war on how she was to overcome the feelings she feared while trying to focus on her job with him being so close and invasive to her.

Contents: Smut in future chapters, Knife Play, Choking kink, Degradation kink, Praising Kink, Alcohol, Smoking, Violence, Mentions of m1rder, drug dealing, Fluff, Angst.

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Sasha & Cody had a good think running for a little bit. There was still the slight bickering & Sasha becoming annoyed with Cody but believe it or not when they would work together they got work done.

They did fucking amazing on drug deals & made massive amounts of money, Miami was a messy city & the drug business sunk their fucking teeth into the City’s bad habits which were Partying & getting as high as possible.

Sasha would make the sales while Cody would keep track of whatever they were selling & how much money they were making but Barbra was still quite unhappy with Cody after seeing his Initials “C.R” Into her thigh, She was not pleased with Cody at all after that but once again, Business is Business. Sasha & Cody never established what was between them after that and they honestly preferred to keep it that way but Sasha had made it abundantly clear to Athena multiple times he was off the roster to screw but she just won’t take the hint.

Marianna sat in the kitchen watching Athena follow around Cody like a lost dog within the streets & noticed she laughed way to hard at one of his jokes he would make with Randy & Sasha knew Cody wasn’t THAT funny. She turned to Marianna & put on an annoying high pitched voice mocking the girl that was once her friend “Ohh my gosh! Of course I’ll screw you when your feeling bored and lonely Cody! Even though I fucked half of the house and probably the entire city of Miami because that’s the slut I am!! I’ll even act like your best friend & cheer you on to get someone you miss so bad and go behind your back to fuck that same person!” Marianna laughed in amusement while everyone’s attention turned to Sasha.

Athena scoffed crossing her arms “Is there a problem Sasha?” Cody raised a brow as he watched the two “I’m sorry did you not like my joke? Maybe it was a little bit too real for you huh?” Sasha faked pity & frowned poking her bottom lip out before Athena rolled her eyes “Your just mad because Cody fucked me more because he wanted to touch me instead of someone as repulsing as you.” Sasha widened her eyes & laughed “You wanna talk about repulsing but you fuck half of the state of Florida? Okay Athena. Okay. Maybe I should probably give you a very in depth reminder on what he’s done with me rather than you because I actually have meaning to him.” Sasha pushed Marianna out of her way gently while strutting over to Cody & Athena “Pull your shirt up.” Cody furrowed his brows “Sash-“ “Pull. Your fucking. Shirt up.” Cody glared and tugged his shirt up revealing his chest as Sasha placed her nail right next to her name that was cut into his skin “Bet he didn’t let you do that to him did he? Let you claim him as yours?”

“Hell did he even cut his initials on you in 3 different places?” She tilted her head with a confused look on her face while Athena was starting to show off her anger & envy as Sasha got in her face “You also have a lot of fucking nerve on you to come into MY mothers house, act like your big tough shit to her daughter who has more control over you than your own fucking parents combined & act like your gonna do something whenever I offend you. Let me make it abundantly clear for you Thena. You’re a passed around play thing that’s only a good fuck when someone’s frustrated or just in general horny. The only reason why you’re here right now is because we have pity for you. But keep in mind that you will never be me, you will never have Cody & own him the way I do & you are not a goddamn Ricci because if you were, You’d bring some shame to this goddamn family & business.” Cody grabbed Sasha’s shoulder pulling her away “That’s enou-“ she looked at him and snickered looking at him up and down before turning her attention back to Athena “Get out of my face Athena.”

She huffed and puffed looking around for defense but everyone sat silent besides Marianna. She was smirking sitting on the table dangling her fingers at her and blowing her a kiss mouthing the words ‘Bye Bye’ before Randy gave her a look and a light pat on the thigh as a warning to stay out of this. Cody glared over at Sasha “What the fuck was that?” She raised a brow “I was putting her in her place what do you mean ‘What the fuck was that’ Cody?” He scoffed shaking his head “Seriously? Telling her that she’s all good for sex & how she will never mean anything to me?” Sasha glared and crossed her arms before rolling her neck side to side while letting out a breathy laugh “Of course you’d be the type to carve your fucking name on my body & have me do the same to yours and proceed to tell me I own you as much as you own me just for you to defend Athena & stick your dick back down her throat.” She spat her harsh words at him while Marianna furrowed her brows and almost spoke up against Cody to defend her bestfriend but Randy gave her another look before Sasha scoffed “Fuck you Cody. You’re just as much of a whore as she is.” Seth watched his sister storm off while Cody turned to him for defense but he shook his head “You can’t just cut your name into my sisters skin & expect her to not have a little bit of possessiveness over you towards someone who’s been a problem like this for over 4 years.”

Cody furrowed his brows before walking off towards Athenas room to formally & privately apologize on Sasha’s behalf but realized Sasha saw as she was walking towards the front door & stared directly at him before picking up a pair of keys from the bowl that laid next to the door where people often put their wallet, Keys or even other things before entering the house completely Cody’s face dropped & soon sprinted down the stairs but she was out of the house. Already in the drive way with a key & walking towards the car Cody had owned which meant it was luxurious “Don’t you do it Goddamnit!” He shouted as everyone followed behind him but Sasha also noticed a bat that laid next to a bush & immediately went off to go grab it “Sasha knock it off!” Barbra shouted pushing past Cody & Seth & went to stop her daughter but she was faster & immediately smashed the bat into gis windshield and pointed it in his direction “I’m sick of your fucking games Cody! I’m sick of you acting like I mean something to you but then when I hurt your little fuck toys feelings by calling her out on what she is I’m such a fucking problem!” She shouted while Cody rushed towards her & tried grabbing out for her wrist but she immediately slammed the bat into the hood of his car

“Sasha knock it off & talk to me about this like a grown fucking woman!” “FUCK YOU! I showed you my vulnerability I let you CARVE your name into my skin & you just continue to fuck me over!” She screamed at him & eventually Randy leaned into Mari’s ear as the two shouted at each other “Do what you need to do.” She nodded at him and walked towards Sasha pushing Cody away “You need to leave her alone & just stop fucking talking. You’ve done enough.” She warned him while turning to Sasha & looking at her with a soft expression and taking the bat & keys away from her as gently as possible “c’mere..” Sasha then finally let her walls down for her best friend and cried on her shoulder while Cody stood in guilt before she saw Athena walk out which brought back all of that rage & make Sasha shove past Mari & get in Athena’s smug face “What kind of fucking friend are you!? This isn’t even about Cody this was about You & Me and our friendship and how you fucked that up & if you didn’t wanna be friends the. FINE because I don’t wanna fucking be your friend.” Marianna frowned & held Sasha’s shoulder before making her walk past everyone & go back inside. The two sat down on the staircase & Mari just held Sasha who was crying with frustration & confusion “I’m s-so sick of it! He puts me through hell & now she’s fucking him!? W-What the fuck Mari! When is it gonna end!” She sniffled while the brunette frowned running her hands down Sasha’s back.

Barbra breathed heavily & diverted her stare onto Athena “Was this your doing? Did you cause this damn fight!?” Athena stood there in shock & held her mouth agape while Barbra slammed her hands against her chest pushing her down onto the ground “You have a lot of nerve to come into this business, this family & make MY daughters life hell when she came to you with welcoming arms.” She scolded while Athena stayed speechless. Randy gently held Barbs arm “Don’t. It’s not worth yelling for.” She looked over at him & nodded while looking back over at the man who caused her daughter heartbreak “Your a pathetic excuse for a man.” She spat harsh words at him before turning & kicking Athena out of her way before walking inside to comfort her child.

Weeks after that Cody suffered in silent treatment from not only his bestfriend Seth but also Sasha. She wouldn’t even argue with him & annoy him like she usually does, it was as if she pretended he wasn’t there. One night she sat on the porch after dinner & drank out of her single wine bottle.

6 years ago…

Sasha & Cody sat together on the pier of Miami beach enjoying each others embrace while she swirled the promise ring he gave her many months ago around her finger she just pushed 19 & him 20, for the last 3 years they had been dating after meeting each other in high-school. They were so well connected to each other & related on many a things throughout their relationship. Their families were both within a fucked up mafia like business. When both of them couldn’t handle the way their lifestyles worked some days they were the only people that could comfort one another.

She leaned her head against his shoulder tracing shoulders against his back while he held her close just as the sun was setting & reflecting off of the ocean “One day I’m gonna get us out of here Sash’ I’m gonna get us out of here, start a new life somewhere quiet & calm and put a permanent ring on that finger.” She smiled looking up at him & interlocked her hand with his “You think we’ll love each other like this forever Codes?” She was such a sweet girl, her voice soft & relaxed, “I know we will sweet girl, for as long as we both live.”

If only it were true, after the sun officially set he took her home 2 hours after her curfew & she laughed as he tried climbing through her window as easy as she did “Cody we could’ve gone through the door.” He shook his head chuckling as he finally made it through her window before holding her waist “Your mom would’ve killed me if she saw me walk through that door especially when we’re getting here fashionably late for your curfew baby y’know this.” She smiled shrugged and pressing her gentle kiss against his lips “I love you Cody.” “I love you more angel, forever and always.”

She was so love sick for him that a month after that night where he broke up with her she changed forever, she was never able to love anyone the way she loved her Cody. She felt broken & lost without him and slowly began to resent & hate him for the way he left this affect on her

Present Day..

She felt Cody’s presence behind her & turned around a bit before looking away while he sighed sitting down next to her “What happened to us Sash?” He asked softly and looked at her while she avoided the eye contact “It wasn’t supposed to be like this sweetheart, WE weren’t supposed to be like this.” Sasha looked over at him & put her hair up while he kept talking “It was a stupid mistake the way we ended things sash’ we had a good thing going on & I just fucked it all up instead of fighting harder” Sasha shook her head “Maybe we just weren’t meant to be together Cody. We would’ve ended up in this current situation together or not.” He frowned shaking his head “Baby don’t say that..” Sasha scowled at the pet name “Don’t call me that.” She warned, Cody sighed and tried grabbing ahold of her hand but she got up & started walking back inside the house & hid herself away into her bedroom while her phone was ringing. Roman.

She picked up the call & swiftly shut her door locking it behind her “Have you thought over my offer yet Doll?” She hummed, A few nights ago Roman had gotten in touch offering her a place within his own gig within the drug business & utter control over anything she wanted unlike what she had in her family’s business. She wouldn’t have to face Cody everyday, she wouldn’t have to put up with Athena’s bullshit, it was like starting a clean slate. “I have. I would like to take up your offer.” She heard his devious chuckle before he told her she was to be expected at his manor by the morning & hung up.

She made her way downstairs into her mother & Randy’s office & gave them an update on Roman calling her as they had already knew about his offer, “If you feel comfortable enough going through with the plan then I’ll allow you to make your way over there tomorrow & do what you need to do..” Randy spoke as he leaned his entire body weight on his desk. Randy & Barbra had been told about this stunt Roman was pulling on Sasha and they had decided to make a plan by having her “go through with the offer” & turning on him just to get the information the Ricci’s needed on Roman.

Cody leaned against the wall near the office listening in & once Sasha finished her discussion with Randy & her mother and she walked out Cody grabbed her arm and walked off while she smacked his hand “What the fuck?! Cody let me go! I don’t have time for any of your games damnit!” He wouldn’t budge & dragged her outside into the backyard “What the fuck was that about Sasha?” She glared in confusion “Oh your fucking eavesdropping now?” He nodded putting his hands in his hips hooking his fingers against the belt wrapped around his pants “Yes, Yes I fucking am because I heard a very familiar name & I’m pretty sure it was Romans, Sasha for the love of fucking god don’t go through with this dumb shit it’s going to end horribly.” She crossed her arms as she grimaced at him “I’m getting really sick of you trying to control my own decisions Cody, Seriously, it’s fucking annoying.” Cody smacked his hands against his legs and paced in a circle for a quick minute trying to speak but she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt “Shut your mouth for 1 damn minute & save me the goddamn scolding of a life time okay? I’m going through with the plan and your not stopping me.” She shoved him out of her way and made her way back inside

Sasha spent the next day going over some things with Roman & getting used to the new atmosphere. Her gut tried telling her this was a horrible idea but she refused to listen. Roman sat her down in an office and cleared his throat. “We know you killed one of my men Doll. And usually I don’t appreciate that disrespect but I noticed that you are damn good at your job. I want you to be one of my hitmen, interrogators & top sellers. How does that sound?” She tilted her head “What’s in it for me?” He hummed digging through his desks drawers & then slammed a stack of cash on the table in her face “10,000 dollars each kill, sound good enough for you?” She picked up and flicked her thumb against the cash & jotted her head in his direction “20,000” “Deal.” She smiled & stood up & Shook his hand “A deals a deal.” Roman grinned before running his hand down her cheek “Your going to be the greatest addition to this business. You will not be taken for granted Sasha. Let’s put the past behind us starting today yeah?”

Randy was blowing up her phone for an update but she didn’t pick up. In fact this is where they started to not hear from her for 3 whole weeks. Everyone tried contacting Sasha but it was radio silence on her part so..Seth ended up calling roman to make a fair deal over some drug sale & had set a meeting place in a parking garage but she knew it was their way of trying to get her back as the realization hit for them that Sasha was actually going through with the offer Roman gave her.

Roman & Sasha waited in the parking garage for this “drug deal” but just as one of their cars began pulling in she grabbed Romans shoulder softly as she slowly realized it was only one of them attending this deal & that gave her the confirmation she needed that they were indeed trying to get her back. “You go home. I know their tricks & pawns. Let me deal with this alright?” Roman huffed thinking about it before giving in & following her directions stepping into his car & driving off. Just as the black Porsche pulled into a stop & parked in between the two white lines Cody got out of the car while Sasha stood her ground, hands in the pockets of her leather jacket while he sighed “Really Sasha? Turning on us now? Is that what Ricci’s do?” She shrugged “I don’t know. But since you like to act like your a Ricci when you’re not how by the way, about you tell me that yourself Cody, do we do that?” He winced at her words & dramatically put a hand over his chest “Your words truly hurt me sweetheart.” He spoke in a sarcastic tone.

“Why are you doing this Sasha, seriously, why? Your smarter than this yet your acting like a fucking dumbass turning your back on us for someone who’s going to turn his back on you. She clenched her jaw as she observed his body language & every detail of his face “He has more to offer to me than any of you, I mean seriously Cody, do you understand how fucked it is for your mother to know how badly her daughters first love broke her but yet still recruits him? That’s pretty fucked if I do say so myself but you wouldn’t understand because your ego’s as high as the clouds and your head is busy shoved up your own ass you don’t even realize how much your presence itself affects me.” Cody frowned before looking down and running his fingers against his jaw. He nodded looking up trying to reach his hand out to her but immediately she acted fast

Just as he stepped a few inches closer Sasha pulled a pistol out of her coat & pressed it against his head with a plain face “Not another step.” She said slowly as he chuckled with an amused smile on his head “That’s a new move. Go on Sasha. Since you apparently have the balls to pull a gun on me now do it. Shoot me.” Sasha froze at his words but eventually noticed he was being dead serious. “You have the guts to pull a gun on me then you must have the guts to shoot me right? Go on sweetheart, pull the trigger, right here, right now.”

She glared as he placed his hand over hers & scooted her finger towards the trigger “Do. It.” Fuck.

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

[eddiediazismyhusband]

Can I ask you to list a couple things you do like about the show? Or the actors? Or the characters? Or heck anything 911 related? Because it seems like you and your other anons don’t like anything to do with any aspect of it at all from the writers down to the smallest of storyline details 😅

which at that point is probably a good time to step back and stop engaging with it either temporarily or permanently since all it’s gonna do is continue to feed into the negativity your having over it since nothing seems to be bringing you joy about it.

can yall not read? like seriously can yall not read the words when i say “i am not goign to watch season 8 until something good happens”

i feel like a goddamn parrot on here when people like you keep coming into my inbox with this same fucking “maybe you should step back” thing like yeah that’s what i have been fucking saying????

im not going to stop interacting with my friends on here- that’s out of the question. i still love being involved in the fanfic community and i still love the first 5 seasons of the show, but im not going to lie and say that i have been pleased with the most recent installments. if you actually took the time to read my blog and what i talk about you would see that i adore eddie and his queer subtext. i adore buddie as a ship, probably to a crazy degree. i love henren, and bathena, and madney. josh russo is literally one if my favorite canonically queer characters on tv.

i adore this cast with the exception of the talentless nepo baby half the fandom wanna suck the dick of (god knows why other than he’s a fugly white man who kissed their favorite white boy) i love seeing them interact with each other outside of the show.

can i ask you what the writers have given us to actually enjoy the past two seasons? other than the madney wedding? nothing else has been decently written, or taken the story in a positive direction. yeah, we got bi buck but he’s in a relationship with a literal misogynistic racist man who has had repeatedly treated buck horribly with no acknowledgement whatsoever. so no, i don’t like the writers or tim minear at the moment because they have had every opportunity to usher in something positive for eddie, but no bc tim “this show is a drama” minear would rather give the happy plots to his white characters while running his poc characters through more unnecessary trauma and pain (with the exception of chimney, although his happy plotline only happened after he was near-fatally sick an entire episode and bobby whose plotline was centered around a black man’s trauma being dug up and thrown in his face)

the earlier season of this show were such a joy to watch live when it felt like there was actually care going into it from the showrunners and writing team, but lately it’s just them throwing darts at whatever wack-ass drama plot they can think of.

this cast works too fucking hard for the vapid shit they get given to act out each week.

which is why i (once again, in case you were about to gloss over this) I AM NOT WATCHING SEASON EIGHT UNTIL SOMETHING IS DONE TO FIX THE MESS THEY MADE

perhaps writing it in bold, italicized caps will make it easier for you to get it through your head.

and as far as “my anons” if you actually had enough confidence in your message, then why are you hiding behind anon, hm?

i have said multiple times i love interracting with my friends and fandom content that doesn’t have to do with spec. i have said multiple times im holding off on season 8. i have never said i hate the cast or i hate every single plotline the show has ever had, but you know what i did hate? how s6 and s7 turned the show into a fucking ooc mess. it is within my rights as a fan to dislike a season of a show for valid reasons.

what’s not okay is you coming into my inbox repeatedly saying “take a break” when i’ve said multiple fucking times that i plan to rather than just blocking me if youre so offended by people agreeing with me that the show is at a make it or break it point.

please kindly take yourself out of my space if you’re not going to actually take the time to read the words i post and just immediately send me anonymous hate because you didn’t like my posts

[hollytanaka]

I finished the MWIII campaign and here are my thoughts 💭

Obviously, MAJOR SPOILERS below. Remember to filter #mwiii spoilers if you want to avoid them from me.

The Structure & Ending

I finished the campaign in one sitting, which I usually never do with games. So, my initial complaint that it felt short might be because I literally rushed my playthrough of it. But if others felt the same, l'd love to know!

The ending felt incomplete. I feel like it's basic/traditional writing knowledge that you don't end the story on the climax unless it's like a major cliffhanger. This was not a cliffhanger. We ended it after Soap being killed in cold blood by Makarov, and we see the rest of the 141 mourning and spreading his ashes. The only way I could be nice about this, is if we just describe the story not as a triumphant story of military victory and defeating evil but as a tragedy. A story that ends in failure (a la Ghosts [2013]). But the rational part of my brain says, no, this was just the writers cutting the story in half so that they can bank on a Modern Warfare 4 in the future—and use MP seasons and co-op/raids to tell the rest of the story.

Still, I'm glad we're actually moving along with the Makarov story and what was actually the story for MW2. The reboot timeline is so slow and slow delayed because of adding Farah's backstory and Los Vaqueros. We're finally getting to the good stuff from Modern Warfare, that classic story that everyone loves. So, that's a plus.

Los Vaqueros & El Sin Nombre's Absence

My major complaint about MWII (2022) was that for a game that bases itself on a lot of real-life geopolitical conflicts, the inclusion of Valeria's storyline as a female narco boss in relation to Hassan, an Iranian villain, didn't really make sense (and this is from me, someone who has multiple degrees studying Latin America). So I'm glad Valeria and her cronies did not re-appear in this campaign. They just do not fit.

I liked Los Vaqueros in MWII, but I think the writers were right not to include them either—at least for this installment—just because they would've had to juggle too many things at once. Already, we have to juggle a lot with Farah's forces and Shadows being our allies. Having to deal with additional characters would've made the game lose its pointed focus. I wouldn't be surprised though if for "modern Warfare 4" both groups make a comeback.

It's just funny how much fans and Activision were hyping up Valeria so much, including in MWIII's live-action trailer, just for her to not make even one appearance.

Open-Combat Missions

Not gonna lie these missions stressed me the fuck out. I could NOT stay in stealth no matter what. But I think that's somwhat good, since a lot of grouchy fans who follow COD complain that every campaign is essentially the same—just move up, aim, and shoot—with just a slightly different plotline about either some Russian or some Arab villain. And I think we can commend COD now for try to shake up the campaign a little, even if I'm not a fan of Warzone (lol) and OCMs are essentially Warzone-ified campaign missions.

But mixing traditional campaign missions with these Open Combat Missions felt like a bad idea. I get that they're trying to gradually gauge our reaction to them by slowly introducing it. But it also felt disorienting switching between just following directions in one mission to in another having total liberty to do whatever by scavenging for guns or certain field-upgrades.

Either make them mainly all OCMs or all traditional.

Makarov as a Villain & Soap's Death

Yuli's work as an actor is totally praise-worthy! It's hard to step into the shoes of Makarov after the notoriety the OG Makarov gained in the original games. I think he isn't as cartoonish and weak as some of the other COD villains have been so far in the reboot—a complaint I once again have of how the narco villains were written in MWII. He actually generates fear and intimidation and we can see his power and resources—unlike villains like Hassan and whoever the generic Russian general was in MW2019. They were not memorable at all. If MW4 gets developed, it'll be great to see Yuli work with that character more.

Now, Soap. I AM HEARTBROKEN as well as PISSED. I'm pissed because we got to see Soap in the OG games grow & develop so much. Hence why so many veteran COD fans love Soap, perhaps more so than Ghost even though the latter has gotten more popular recently. We saw him going from just entering under Price's wing to becoming a Captain; and that growth of him as a character made his death so much more painful. It warranted Price yelling out in horror and shock when he realized Soap was dead before his eyes in the OG MW3. Even the background music to his OG death has become so iconic too.

We only got introduced to reboot!Soap last year with the release of MWII. We did not get to see him in the campaign in MW2019. He's still a very new character and the writers did NOT develop him properly enough in my opinion to warrant a tragic death/killing scene. I think that's part of why his death here hurts so much for me. Because it was also a killing of his potential as a character. And it sucks that Neil won't get to work with this character more in a MW4 storyline unless they do more memory/flashback scenes.

Hell, Farah gets more development and more screentime than Soap and the rest of the 141 task force aside from Price. I understand she's a main character now, but it sucks that first in MW2019 we sidelined Price as a character (in my opinion) for Farah's storyline. Now, Farah is taking up a lot more of the agency and space in the story once again at the expense of other characters taking less charge. This is honestly just me having a hard time accepting this new dynamic with Urzikstan with the rest of TF141 that the writers have been trying to cement with the rebooted series.

-

In sum, it does feel like some of the grouchy COD fans who were saying off before release that this was going to be a glorified DLC were right in hindsight. It's clear they put a lot of work into the geography, the missions/game-play, and I genuinely enjoyed playing it. And of course, the VAs put a lot of work into their craft. But plotwise it does feel like they gave us only a partial campaign with a very abrupt ending... but I also liked it anyway and had fun. And that’s what matters :-)))

[sirenalpha]

I've been bouncing around different DC comics storylines like a lunatic instead of reading one thing straight through so I've read comics from the 80s through to just a couple years ago, obviously not everything that's been published it's basically just Batman and Superman or related stuff but definitely a decent number of issues

I think something changed in the early-mid 00s with how comics are written for the worse

I'm not saying there's not flaws with 80s-90s comics, it's still difficult to find an entry point for any new comer, storylines are spread across multiple different comics making them hard to follow, 80s/90s handling of sex and race etc

but while the art is usually much better mostly in terms of paneling/page layout not necessarily how the characters look it can be both great and bad in either era

the writing post 00s is like on fucking steroids, you can't breathe in any of these stories, something must be constantly happening usually multiple things at once that may or may not have to do with each other and things whether plot beats or characters picked up or dropped in an instant as necessitated by/convenient for the plot on top of having no good entry point and running across different comics

that's not to say there are no overarching plots in the modern comics, in fact it's basically all serialized plots, nothing episodic and resolved in a single issue, but they are buried under five miles of distracting bullshit and no one is allowed to emotionally deal with the consequences because you must immediately move to the next thing

in comparison, the 80s-90s comics there's either one main plot with multiple components running in sync no bullshit on top (like return of superman which I'm part way thru so juggling lots of characters across different comics but you're sorting out one plot, it's one story no cut aways) or it's more slice of life vignettes, they just happen to be about the life of superheroes

like during Jason's post crisis run in the late 80s, Dick returns as Nightwing to meet Jason and confront Bruce, Dick and Bruce argue with each other no physical fighting or anything else going on the panels are basically empty except for them, and everyone gets their chance to speak and to react and recover after the talk is over, it all happens in one issue and it's a complete thought that gets full completed, ended with a period, no bullshit on top of it, the whole run is basically like that, each issue covering one thing in its entirety

you want to know the single solitary comic I've read published post 2000 that works anything close to that?

Wayne Family Adventures

that's what pisses me off about "real comics fans" or however they'd like to be called who think WFA is bullshit

yes WFA is fluffier than the mainstream Batman comics coming out, and yes the characterization is obviously different it's working on its own continuity

but the writing isn't fucking insane, it's the only one where it's not insane!! it has a supremely easy and convenient starting point no backstory needed, each issue/two parter is a complete and satisfying story, and it has far, far more coherent storytelling

if you don't like WFA for the art style or tone that's personal preference and fine but acting like you can't tell why someone new to comics or not can appreciate and like WFA...maybe you're just not that much of a comics fan because WFA is how DC comics used to be

as far as I can tell, comics did the same thing as tv shows where they shifted from episodic stories where each episode has a contained story with an eye for syndication and reruns so that each episode could be watched in any order without added context (kinda like how comics issues work) to serialized stories, seasonal plots becoming stronger until a show is following one continuous story where you have to watch them in order and are potentially made for a binge session rather than appointment viewing once a week

except for television that's prestige tv for a second golden age of television and in comics it's whatever the fuck is going on now

one of these is much enjoyable than the other is all I'm saying and it's not modern comics

the 80s and 90s stuff is charming compared to the more contemporary stuff (not the sexism and racism just the vignette story telling style)

[the-evil-duckling]

And now that Pride Month's over, Let's Talk About Pratchett.

The companies have taken down their flags. The marches and rallies are fading away. Rainbow colours are melting back into grayscale. And now that all the hubbub is dying down, let's talk about an author who did perhaps more than any other to introduce gender-and-sexual minorities to the public (and not just as a cute oddity to be cooed at from a distance, either).

Let's talk about an author whose works are perhaps the most representative, hard-hitting, and wholesome, in all of well-written English literature.

Let's talk about Pratchett.

Before we dive into the lovely little nitty-gritties, I want to just take a quick look at what Pratchett's writing really is, and what makes it so very exceptional. It's pretty simple, really.

He's funny.

That's the "secret" formula to Terry Pratchett's success across the global; he's funny everywhere, everywhen, across multiple generations and multiple decades and multiple geopolitical borders. You don't have to read Discworld with a lot of effort, thinking deeply after every line about the message the author is trying to convey. You don't have to analyze every character and every situation to see how the author is sculpting a crystal-clear mirror and holding it up to the face of Society. When I'm feeling down (cause college and life and pressure and dreams) and wanna start gouging out my forearms with my nails, I can just curl with one of my comfort books (like Men At Arms, or Unseen Academicals) and laugh and chuckle and just feel better. You can just enjoy it.

Now, I think, I can get to the fun stuff; analysing all of my favourite characters and the roles that they represent in mirroring Pratchett's view of People. (I should mention at this point that I am mainly going to be focussing on the Sam Vimes novels, and what I will be writing are my own thoughts and opinions. Anyone who knows more - or has just read/interpreted the books differently - is of course free to add their own musings.)

Fred Colon: Sergeant Colon is that rarest and yet most typical of things: Fred Colon is an ordinary person. He is no hero, or genius, or leader. He is not evil or even mildly malicious. And that is the very point that needs to be understood. People (most people) are not deliberately evil; they are, on the whole, fairly decent people who treat their friends well and try not to make enemies. It is just... petty selfishness, petty prejudices, petty apathy... all summated in every single member of the populace, and suddenly everyone knows that dwarfs are just money-grubbing bastards who'd bite your kneecaps off for a copper coin and trolls are dumber than the rocks they're made off but they'll as soon smash you to pulp as look at you and you can't trust a vampire cause they're too dead to be alive and-

Carrot Ironfoundersson: Captain Carrot is a cliché. Captain Carrot is a cliché wrapped inside a trope hidden in a Mary Sue, all turned on its head. Captain Carrot, rightful heir to the throne of Ankh, leader of all manner of beings, man who once beat Detritus in a fistfight... is not the hero of this story. In any other series, the story would have been of a brave new cop (who is also the king) standing up to the corruption and lawlessness of the Patrician while taking advice from his grizzled old half-drunk commander who dies four chapters into the first book with some vaguely portentous words that the hero remembers at the very last minute to give him the tools/strength/motivation necessary to keep fighting. But this is Pratchett. And the hero of the story, if there is one, is very much the grizzled old commander. Two other points have also always struck me about Carrot. The first is the matter of identity. Biologically, Carrot is very much a human, but in all other ways that matter he is entirely a dwarf - his name is Kzad-bhat, and even the deep-down dwarfs do not question his dwarfishness - and yet that does make him any less a human. In this is reflected the multiplicity of identity (not just of gender, which is what most people immediately jump to, but all identities). The second point is of the relationship between Carrot and Angua, which seemed to me a representation of a healthy dom/sub relationship. Unlike the twisted shit we find on ao3 (and in some published books that I don't feel that I need to name), Angua is at no point portrayed as lesser, weaker, incapable, dependent, or deferent. She is her own person, and the two of them just happen to have this kind of chemistry.

Samuel Vimes: Ahhhh. His Grace, His Excellency, The First Duke of Ankh, Blackboard Monitor Samuel Vimes, Commander of the City Watch. The protagonist, if not quite the hero, of the series. He is not perfect, not even close. He is casually discriminatory (species-ist?) and thoughtless in most of what he says. his saving graces are that his discrimination is universally applied at all beings living and dead, and that he has never, not even once, allowed his personal feelings of prejudice stand in the way of justice (which is at times, all that separates him from Fred Colon). Does that mean that it's all okay, and everything is now fine and dandy and hunky-dory? No. Not even fucking close. Words matter and actions matter and even how you feel deep inside - all of it matters. Prejudice is prejudice, and it is always wrong. there are no mitigating circumstances, no 'yes, but...' that can make it acceptable. But only an idealistic idiot would say that it is not better than the alternative. And this is the reason that Vimes is one of my favourite protagonists; he is not a hero. He is real.

Leonard of Quirm: A parody of the public perception of a genius (perhaps of Roundworld's Tesla and da Vinci), I have loved Leonard as a character ever since I realised he was gay. Allow me to elaborate. As I was recently re-reading Jingo, I noticed a line that went something like 'He started drawing how The-Going-Under-The-water-Safely-Device could be improved, piloted by a muscular man who was not overdressed'. And just like that, a couple dozen other off-hand comments slotted into place and I realized the homosexual truth. And I love this portrayal of homosexuality, because most books or movies or tv shows or fanfictions with a gay MC (or even sidekick) tend to have a storyline roughly equivalent to 'hey my name is [insert name here] and I'm GAY and I have a destiny to save the world and my family and my GAY boyfriend whom I'm dating cause I'm GAY and before I go outside I have to pick my outfit really carefully better go with salmon-rose-flutter pink cause I'm GAY and now I'm outside and I'm not very popular and this is my tragic backstory cause a lot of people don't like me cause I'm GAY and-' Yeah. This is not good writing. By barely mentioning anything, Pratchett somehow still managed to emphasise that a) homosexuality is one of your identities, not all of them and b) just because a story has a character who is gay doesn't mean that the story becomes about a character being gay.

Trev Likely: One sentence. Just one sentence. 'Hating people was too much work.'

If you actually made it this far, you are obliged to reblog. I'm sorry, but I don't make the rules. (Please?)

[andreafmn]

Running In Circles - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,196

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, George Foyet, Multiple Unsubs and Victims

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' story line.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) remebers her first day in the job and recounts all the cases and events that led to the downfall of George Foyet. 

A/N: I decided to say fuck the anxiety of posting and put up my Aaron fanfiction. It’s been gathering dust in my documents folder and I love writing too much to keep it to myself. I’m not sure how many chapters this will have but there’s already 8 chapters all finished up. Soon I’ll be posting ff of all the fanfictions I enjoy also! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

“Good morning, BAU!” I said as I walked through the doors of the elevator and entered the bullpen. I could still remember how it felt the first time I got here.

I walked out of the elevator and made my way to the first office on the left. I was to meet

SSA Aaron Hotchner for an interview to join the BAU. My hands were shaking, and my body was getting warmer by the second. But I remembered my father’s encouraging words. “You’re gonna do great, mia bella.”

Not only was I extremely young, but I also had a lot to live up to. Being the daughter of SSA David Stephen Rossi was no easy task. He was an amazing agent, mentor, and father. He always pushed me to be the best at everything I did. When I started high school, I decided to get a head start on my college studies and applied to dual enrollment. When I graduated I did so with a Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Then, I worked my way to a Master’s in Psychology and Social Work, and a Doctorate in Criminal Justice. At the same time, my father trained me as a profiler. All my life I knew I wanted to be in the FBI, just like him. I was always impressed at all he did and wanted to be just like my hero. The day I told him I had been recruited by the FBI and was set to work in the BAU he said it had been the greatest day of his life.

Now my shaking hand raised to softly knock on the door before me.

“Come in,” someone said from inside. The door softly creaked as I opened and was met by a tall man with dark hair and a shorter blonde woman. “Agent Rossi, welcome.”

“Thank you, it’s an honor to be here.” I smiled and shook Aaron Hotchner’s and Erin Strauss’ hands.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Agent Rossi,” Erin smiled. “Have to say, you have a very impressive curriculum and your disinvolvement in our past interviews and tests have been outstanding.”

I smiled and turned the bracelet on my wrist for comfort.

“I must concur with Chief Strauss,” said Hotch. “I believe you will be a great addition to the BAU team.”

After sharing a few pleasantries and being handed my badge and gun, I was following Hotch to the briefing room to meet the rest of the team. Formally, at least. I had heard everything about them when I spoke with my father. He left no detail out.

“Morning, everyone,” Hotchner started. “I called you all in early today so you could meet the newest addition to the team. This is Agent (y/n) Rossi.”

To the sound of my name most of the mouths in the room dropped.

“Rossi, as in David Rossi?” The slender, messy haired agent said. I could only assume that was Spencer Reid. As my father had described him, a curly mess dressed in vests.

I nodded.

“Rossi, you didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful daughter.” That would be Derek Morgan. The hottie Casanova with a silver tongue.

“I hadn’t?” My father questioned and smirked, knowing full well the answer.

“Well, he’s talked a lot about all of you,” I smiled.

“All good things I hope,” Emily smiled.

“Great things,” I returned the smile. “I could probably make out who is who by the things he’s told me.”

“Go ahead,” Aaron challenged.

“Alright,” I cleared my throat and started going around the table. “Curly hair, vests, analyzing everything I’ve done and said since I walked in… you’re Spencer Reid.”

He smiled brightly.

“Tall, dark, handsome, and a silver tongue. Plus, you checked me out as soon as the doors of the elevator opened… Derek Morgan.”

He smirked.

“Calm, cool, and collected. Quiet but present, inspecting my presence here… you’re Emily Prentiss.”

“She’s good,” Emily muttered to Morgan beside her. I continued.

“And last but not least, bright colors, fun accessories,” I said looking at Garcia. “Even though you’re smiling, you’re not sure about me yet because you don’t like change and are probably going to dig up everything you can on me as soon as you can… Penelope Garcia.”

She stiffened and Derek chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I get it. I do not like change that much either. And here,” I reached my hand into my bag to pull out a rather thick folder. “I’ll save you the work. Background check, complete internet history, social medias, and all the whatnots you would need to build a very extensive profile.”

“Oh, thank you,” she reached out her hand and grabbed the folder, smiling at the floor.

“And well, I already know Agent Hotchner and my father, so they don’t need much of an introduction.”

“No, but you do,” my father said joining my side. “Tell them a bit about yourself.”

“Well, I have a bachelor, two masters, and a doctorate degree: I’m 23, I’m Rossi’s daughter…” In the middle of my thought process dad cut in.

“She’s beautiful, she’s intelligent, and she’s the one I call when I’m stuck on a case.” I smiled.

“She also passed every test with flying colors,” Aaron added. “And her profiling skills are exceptional.”

“Thank you,” I blushed. “I think it runs in my blood.”

“Well, welcome to the team,” Aaron continued. “Let’s get to work.”

That was almost three years ago. A couple of days after, I met JJ who had visited with her newborn son Henry.

In very little time I had grown attached to this family. I was most of the time partnered with Spence and we developed an amazing bond. It did help that I loved playing chess and we could have highly erudite talks. Also, I very much enjoyed his over sharing of facts. But really, I was close to them all. On my spare time I was found watching movies with Derek and Penny, perusing book shops with Reid, having girl nights with JJ, Penny, and Emily, or sipping on top grade scotch while finishing paperwork with Hotch.

Spending time with Hotch was my favorite pastime of all.

I realized I had developed feelings for him the day he was captured by Foyet and left at the hospital. Receiving the call from Emily that she had found blood at his apartment literally knocked the air out of my lungs. Reid could tell that my reaction would not have been the same where it had been any of the other members. For some time, he had deduced my attraction to our unit chief. Once we had captured Patrick Meyers and Reid had been sent off to a hospital, we sped off to St. Sebastian Hospital. I could feel my heartbeat going faster and faster as I felt time slipping by. More than once I had asked Morgan to go faster and with sorry eyes, he told me he was going as fast as he could.

Seeing Hotch on a hospital bed, greatly hurt, broke me. I knew everyone on the team, just like Reid, had figured it out. I was the first one in when the doctor announced he was waking up. His eyes fluttered open as JJ, the last one to enter, made it in.

“Where am I?” He groggily asked.

“In the hospital,” dad answered.

My eyes could not leave his face, even as all I wanted was to imagine him in a different state. Derek told him how he made it to the hospital and Emily asked Hotch what had happened. Closing his eyes, Hotch explained step by step how everything had gone down. Upon more investigation, we quickly figured what Foyet had taken and, a page from his planner that held his ex-wife’s and son’s current address and a picture of them, respectively.

Once we had that information, the team knew exactly what to do. Emily and I volunteered to stay behind and update the team if anything changed. As soon as he went to sleep, we let out a locked breath. But the relief was short lived as his pulse started to get exceedingly fast.

“What happened?” The doctor asked.

“I don’t know,” I croakily muttered out. Emily put a hand on my back as I softly touched his arm.

“Agent Hotchner. Can you hear me?” The doctor called out. “Agent Hotchner?”

He finally opened his eyes and responded. “I’m okay.”  

The doctor asked us out of the room as she checked on him and Emily helped stabilize my walk as we made it out. I saw the doctor and a nurse check him as I picked the skin of the thumb of my right hand. Emily noticed and grabbed it, knowing well of my nervous ticks. The other being closing my fist hard enough to dig my nails in it.

“He’ll be okay,” she smiled. “You know he’s a fighter.”

I softly smiled at her, not knowing if she said it for me or for her to believe it too.

Once we knew Haley and Jack were safe the three of us let out a relieved sigh. Hotch squeezed the hand I had been holding as he slept, needing the reassurance of a trusted presence next to him. He asked Emily about the scene at his apartment, but she could not give him definite answers. In a moment of silence, she excused herself to go buy coffee and I took this chance to ask him what had been going through my head.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” I asked worry evident in my eyes.

Sighing, he responded. “I don’t know. After he stabbed me the first time, it all goes blank.”

He looked straight into my eyes and I could tell he knew more than he let on, but now was not the time to push him. He had been drained: physically, emotionally, and mentally. In that moment, Haley walked in and I let go of his hand to leave them to talk. From outside of the room, I could hear the heartbreaking moment and knowing he was in pain shattered my heart. That day had absolutely devastated us as a team, but it only made us more determined to find Foyet and end him.

But life and work went on. The whole month he was off, I spent most of my free time helping in his recovery and his healing, using the little training I had in wound treatment. The other part of my time I spent with Reid, who was also in recovery. A far less pressing injury, but an injury, nonetheless. And he was my best friend, so I could not completely abandon him.  

We were all worried about him coming back to the team with Foyet still out there, but dad reassured us he would only be more motivated. Yet the first case back, he was different. He was usually professional and understanding, now it seemed that no matter how well we worked, we would make a mistake. And when we finally tracked down the unsub and he made his way inside the house, no vest, and no gun, I knew there was something different in him. I tried to follow him inside, but dad stopped me.

“We have to trust him,” he told me. Even with those words we were all unsure of the outcome. My head was working 1,000 miles a minute coming up with different ways this could all end up in, and when I heard the gunshots, my mind only went to the darkest end. Quickly we stormed in the house and saw Hotch putting handcuffs on Darrin, and a very dead Jarvis on a recliner.  

My father spent most of his time with me reassuring me that Hotch was still the same man he had been a month before. And I spent most of my time with Hotch reassuring him that he was not alone.

At the end of most cases Emily, dad, and I sat with Hotch in his office to drink a cup of scotch and unwind after a stressful day. I stayed nights overtime often and was there on the night that Strauss had landed a surprise visit to his office. The next day he became hyper focused on Derek’s work, which later he revealed to me the reason why. The bureau was questioning his leadership and he meant to step down as unit chief at the end of that week. This ended with Derek becoming active unit chief whilst Hotch was being investigated.

The days that followed were quite strange. We were used to taking orders from Hotch and now taking orders from Morgan was completely different. But business went on as usual. We worked on cases just as hard and solved them just as efficiently. With one case always hanging on us like a dark cloud. George Foyet. With every case we finished we knew he was still out there, which meant that Hotch was still hurting and hunting.  

But the dreaded day had caught up to us. With the last case we had been on in Hampton we knew Foyet had found Hotch. He was taunting Hotch, dangling his life in front of him. Once he had sent us that calling card, we pressed harder on our investigation, pulling at whatever string we could find.

Thankfully, JJ pulled our medication string harder when she found out about the ability to substitute prescriptions with over-the-counter meds. We worked tirelessly and strongly to shorten the investigation part of this case. We needed to catch him, fast.

“Wait a minute, guys. Foyet likes things that have meaning to him,” I said looking at the map presented in front of us. I could see that Reid knew where I was going.

“The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led back to him,” Spence added, and I nodded.

“Maybe he’s doing the same with his name,” I said as Reid wrote down George Foyet on the board.

“Like an anagram or something,” Emily chimed. Quickly, Reid got to work on the theory crossing out and circling letters. Adding ‘The Reaper’ onto the board and utilizing it, once Hotch had pointed out Foyet gave himself that name. He kept up this process until the name Peter Rhea came to existence.

Garcia tracked down the name and quickly found an address in Arlington. We had found him, but it was just too easy.

We were waiting outside of the apartment building for too long, waiting for something, anything. Once Morgan had given his orders, the plan was set in motion. Still, something in the back of my mind kept telling me it was too easy. We stormed the empty apartment and searched for anything that would help us find his actual location. His computer was quickly deleting files, but Garcia was better. Haley’s protection unit was in trouble.

As soon as it clicked, we were on our way to the stash house. Inside the house Marshal Sam Kassmeyer was hurt, losing blood quickly. With the little he was able to tell us we knew that Haley and Jack were in danger. Sam had not told Foyet anything, but George was smart, unfortunately. He had disguised himself as a Marshal and lied to Haley to get her where he needed her. Only him had communication with her. Everyone was on edge wanting nothing more than to find this man.

In the office we heard Hotch’s conversation with Foyet. He was working hard to buy some time for us to find him but knowing George he already had a plan set in motion. He had eyes on the pair, he was with them. I could only imagine what Hotch was going through.

“Alright, Foyet has to be in control,” Derek said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “He had Haley come to him.”

“Yeah, but where would he take her?” Spencer asked. We all started thinking and speculating. There was something in the call that told Hotch where to go. That was the key.

“Reid, what did he say, exactly?” I emphasized on the last word.

“Haley’s hair looks good dark. She’s lost some weight. It must be because of all the stress you caused her. Where’s the little man? Oh, there he is now. Do you think he likes Captain America because of you? That’s your wife on the other line. Hold, please. Hi. Open the gate and I’ll drive in.” Spencer recited in a monotone voice.

“Open the gate?” My father questioned.

“It would be someplace with the biggest emotional impact for Hotch,” I said looking down to organize my thoughts.

“And Haley has access to the gate,” Derek added, and it clicked.

“Their house,” I said. “Where they lived together.”

“Of course,” Emily said. “Foyet planned this all the way to the end. It’s everything to him.”

“He wants to take over Hotch’s house, to be in control, to prove his dominance,” I finished. We knew where he was going, and I was sure Hotch knew too and was already on his way.

On the way, Hotch got a call from Foyet’s phone. It was Hayley. I heard the emotion grabbing him by the throat. We could hear the whole conversation and my heart broke when he asked Hayley the magic words.

“Tell Jack that I need him working on the case,” Hotch breathed out. One drunken night he had told me about how he had found Jack inside a storage bench in his office after he had knocked on it. The smiling kid had told his father that he was working the case with Hotch. Hotch knew what was going to happen and so did I. This was the best chance Jack had at survival.

When Hotch told Jack to hug his mom and he said I love you, I let out a loud sob and Emily grabbed my hand tightly for support. But I was not the one that need the care. Hotch did. Haley’s words would forever be engraved in my head, and in the heads of our friends.

Three gunshots rang through the line right before it cut. Then I could not hold back the tears. I knew. I just knew.

Hotch was the first one on the scene and all I thought of was that he did not have a vest or any backup, so god knows what could have happened. For the second time in a matter of months all I could ask for was that Morgan drove faster.

At the house, Morgan was the first one in and the scene that unfolded in front of us was heartbreaking. Hotch was hitting Foyet over and over, and Derek had to hold him back. He was dead. I surveyed the scene and instinctively went to Hotch’s office, Hotch following close behind. Jack had to be there. I let Hotch walk past me and watched as relief overtook him when he lifted the lid.

“I work the case, daddy,” Jack said. Unbeknownst to everything that had happened. “Just like you said.”

“You did a great job buddy,” Hotch lifted his son out of the bench.

“What happened to you, daddy?”

“I’m okay. I want you to go outside with Ms. Jareau. Ok?” The child walked to JJ and she took him out in her arms.

And Hotch let go. He silently cried and I helped him make his way to where Haley laid. I stood by the door and turned away a police officer. Morgan stood up and squeezed my shoulder as he left the room behind the officer. I stayed outside of the doorframe, listening to the sobs of a strong man.

Next->

[deepspacedukat]

I managed to watch 3/4 of the Dominon/Breen storyline (or whatever you want to call it). And I am absolutely enjoying it!

I absolutely hate Kai Winn. Like girl did you ever think the Prophets never talked to you because you weren’t SUPPOSED to be a Vedek much less KAI?!!?!?! HELLO!!! I mean seriously wtf.

Do you think she would have gone along with everything through ‘Strange Bedfellows’ if she’d have known it was Dukat and not a Bajoran? Seriously it’s not that hard to tell he’s a dead ringer for Dukat except for the skin and hair color.

Once I finish this I might actually write something about it because this is not okay. Seriously it’s bad. Like my girl could solve this entire thing by undoing whatever genetic stuff they did to Dukat to make him look Bajoran but I don’t think she would. I think she’d just spy on them and let stuff happen (for now). It’s not like she can walk up to Sisko and say “He’s actually Gul Dukat in Bajoran cosplay” and be taken seriously/not out herself. She’d need a scan and that would be hard considering he’s under Winn a lot (from what I saw).

Also I think she’d just get so fed up with Winn (Adami, sorry) that she’d either lambast her into a figurative/literal dust pile or straight up destroy her… in her head. Like that thing where when you have to deal with people you hate you pretend they’re dying horribly in order to act like you’re enjoying the interaction. Harsh but people are absolutely disgusting sometimes.

With Weyoun 6 she could handle the whole reverence for the founders thing because it’s not like she doesn’t understand his beliefs but she’s an atheist so she doesn’t share them even for the earth gods she knows. I’m sure she’d get along with him but she wouldn’t actively start that kind of a discussion for ‘reasons’.

And Dukat is really going for the Best Impression of a Siren award. Like really. He’s doing a good job but he has very little talent. Why aren’t you singing tiny Gul?? *maniacal laughter*

I can’t decide what order to put the P’s in but, I submit, for your consideration: Problems, Prophets, and Pa’Wraiths, Oh My! As a title.

Damar not being able to watch himself drink/look at himself then winding up throwing kanar on the mirror and still drinking??? PRICELESS.

Also loving that he banged the lady in his uniform. Why would he have put it back on after??? I realize that full body makeup is expensive but it’s just funny. No, we can’t show Cardassian tits on tv, it’s too sexy. Cover him UP!

-Horta-in-Charge

The Dominion/Breen storyline is an interesting one, I agree. Oh, friend...Friend, I despise Kai Winn as well. Like??? Ma’am? Could she not tell that was Dukat’s voice? I mean, I know his face was different, but his voice never changed. I totally agree with your assessment. She’s just one of those people. I like your assessment of your character’s interaction with Weyoun 6 (and tbh I’d love to read about such an interaction - that could just be my slight Jeff Combs brainrot speaking, but also your OC is fucking amazing).

Oooooh, friend, I love that title! And Damar - right??? He’s like ‘if I don’t see myself drinking, it’s not a problem.’ Also him and the uniform thing...definitely not something I’ve thought about multiple times...definitely not... (Tbh Cardassian tits are too sexy for tv lol)

I hope you’re doing well, friend!!!!

[upside-down-uni]

Hey! Idk if this is too much t9 ask, but could you rec me 2, 19, 20, 45, 55, 63, 69, 71, 72, 75, 86, 104, 111, 116, 131? sorry if it’s a lot but thanks in advance if u can rec me some! :)

Hi, you're in luck! I have an essay to procrastinate on and this ask is just the right thing to distract me! Here you go, I hope you'll find something that you like:

2. a book with a blue cover

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman. When i read it for the first time I was just on the brink of going to uni, still figuring out what I even wanted to study and this book just wrapped me in a warm blanket and said "it's going to be okay". I love the main characters Frances and Aled, their arcs and especially the really nice and quiet queer rep in this book.

19. a book that put you in a reading slump

The Knife Of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. When I start a book I generally have the feeling that I can't put it away until I have finished it. With The Knife Of Never Letting Go my problem was that I did want to read it but it didn't fit my mood, so I couldn't bring myself to read it but also beat myself up about not reading it until I put it back onto my shelf. So, I basically pushed myself into a reading slump over this book.

21. a book with a red cover

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers. I enjoyed this book so much but probably not for the reasons most people would think I enjoyed it? The wlw romance was definitely nice and I really liked them being dramatic but also kind of mundane? What really got me though was the strong theme of found family of young adults and queer friendships, that really yanked the yearning hours wide fucking open for me. (I also liked that in the end the book wasn't as much about romance as it was about finding yourself after surrendering yourself to academia for ages and working through your issues.)

45. a book featuring the friends to lovers trope

The Priory Of The Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. I adore this book. It's so long and there's so much incredible world building and history in it that it made reading an untter delight! Coming in it was a bit hard to acclimate to the slow paste but after a while I just settled in and enjoyed the ride. It's a breathtaking story in a breathtaking universe and afaik there's a second part coming!

55. a book with a satisfying ending

Yolk by Mary H. K. Choi. Yolk doesn't really have an ending in the sense of a "happily ever after" but I really loved where the author chose to leave the characters and how she did it. The book is quite different from what I usually read, tonewise, but especially that ending made me leave the book with a warm feeling. (also the cover is yellow and really really gorgeous)

63. a book that actually made you laugh out loud

I would've reccd Red White and Royal Blue but judging by your url you've read that already...sooooo, it's Snapdragon by Kat Leyh! Super cute graphic novel, with a weird and adorable storyline and such lovable characters!

69. your favorite mythological retelling

I haven't read a mythological retelling in ages, so basic Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan will have to do.

71. your favorite LGBTQ+ fiction

now that's just rude how am I supposed to choose?? I'll say it's Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire and Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir and Loveless by Alice Oseman. I feel very strongly and very distinctly about all of them, if you can get your hands on them my only comment is READ. (and maybe make sure you're okay with gothic sci-fi horror for Gideon The Ninth)

72. a book with a gorgeous cover

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. It's her adult gothic horror debut after The Miseducation of Cameron Post and not only is the hardcover just stunning in black and red, it also got illustrations inside!! (And all teh women are queer and it's deliciously fucked up!)

75 a book featuring the I'm not like other girls trope

I think the closest I can come to that is The Lady's Guide To Piracy and Petticoats by Mackenzi Lee. The main character has to unlearn a bunch of stuff really fast if she wants to get along with the only other people that will help her. We have road trips in the 16th century, kidnapping and asshole husbands to be, piracy of course and friendship!

86. a book with an insane plot twist

Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand. Sawkill Girls was my first touch with horror and I have to say I have no idea whether there was heavy foreshadowing. I think I remember thinking that there was something else to come but when the shit hit the fan I just sat there with big questionmarks over my head because I had read the book in a frenzy in one evening and truly did NOT anticipate it. As someone who did not read horror or thriller before this I have to say I was already insanely confused and disgusted by a bunch of stuff that went down. But then...uh. the thing happened and I was just lost. (In a good way though.)

104. a fluffy sweet read

Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann. It's been a while ever since I read it but it's essentially a cute summer story about Alice who's a disaster bisexual when she sees people she finds cute. Which is a little inconvenient because the new guy at her job is really, really, really extremely cute and she ceases to function around him. There's best friend drama, eating pizza iirc and figuring shit out!

111. a book writing a book

I assume it's either "a book about writing a book" or I am literally supposed to rec a book that is writing a book...I'm going to rec a book that is about books! (because I can.) It's The Girl Who Reads on the Métro by Christine Féret-Fleury and it follows a young woman called Juliette wo gets sucked into an old bookseller's world of life saving, life changing books. A really quiet, really cute book.

116. a book with multiple povs

the Reckless books by Cornelia Funke! Simply divine stroytelling, a vibrant world and amazing characters! I have to say that I only know the German original so I don't know what the English translation might be like.

131. recommend any book you like

um. so knife gang members and people who follow my main, you'll once again be subjected to me being a mess because of lesbian necromancers in space! I've mentioned it before, it lives in my head rent free, it is the one, the only Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir! It's an insane sci-fi horror fantasy blend where Gideon has to play cavalier to Reverend Daughter Harrowhark I-love-being- an-absolute-pain-in-the-ass-to-Gideon Nonagesimus to help her become an uber-necromancer (like Harrow needs motivation to become even more of a nerd and shockingly good at necromancy) for the Necrolord Prime/Undying Emperor. There's BEAUTIFUL WRITING sprinkled with MEMES when you least expect it. There is incredible toxic codependency and repression. There's MURDER. There's fancy necromancy theorems and DUELS. There's enemies to begrudging allies to ??? Staple your socks to your feet or this book will blow them clean off!

[jarofstyles]

Fan Club

A/N: This story.... it’s very near and dear to our hearts. We have a total of 7 parts written, 80k words total. It is our take on the PR relationship trope, mixed with Harry gets with a fan trope. It’s full of angst, full of sweet moments and smutty moments alike. We LOVE these two, they are quite literally our children. It is a bit more personal for the reader in some aspects, we know we have all imagined what it would be like to be with Harry at some point, so this goes out to you. We made Y/N of Russian decent in this one, just to make things fun ( and because we wanted some representation for our Russian babes out there 🤧). All in all, we are extremely proud to present Fan Club to you, we hope you enjoy ✨✨ - n + d

send feedback and requests here 

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, glimmers of fluff

word count: 11.2k

It was hard for Y/N to explain how she ended up in this situation. Fake Dating international popster, Harry Styles. To be honest, it was all a bit of a crazy story even for Y/N. She couldn’t believe it either. Y/N was a simple girl with simple taste. Her older sister, Katya, owned a bakery called ‘for goodness bakes’ that’s been open for about 5 years, Y/N has been working there alongside her. She spent most of her time at the bakery, having just graduated with a degree in business marketing. She liked doing things most 22 year old girls liked doing: fun makeup, nights in with wine and romcoms, and of course being a fan of Harry Styles. 

Since she was 12 years old, she had been a fan of One direction and well... Harry was always her favorite. She initially fell for his preppy appearance, but ultimately fell for his charm and quirkiness once she fell deep into the fandom. And she did fall deep. She had a stan account on every social media platform, she bought merch and multiple copies of albums, and even wrote fanfiction on wattpad. To say she was a big fan was an understatement. 

About a month ago, Harry’s team had reached out to her via the email of her bakery. They had seen the post that she made, a picture of herself with a kiwi tart with the caption, ‘it’s none of your business.... unless?’ and had asked if they could have a meeting with her at their headquarters. Obviously, Y/N agreed to this meeting, thinking that they might want her to cater an event or something. But no, they wanted her to be his ‘girlfriend’. 

They had explained to her that they had been searching for the perfect candidate who was not only a fan, but was also just a regular everyday girl. They said they liked her aesthetic and felt like she would suit Harry well. Her background in business marketing meant that she would be good at knowing what to post and her being a fan meant her love for him would be believable. The fans and media would eat this story up! It took Y/N a moment to comprehend what they were asking her to do, but they started bringing up numbers and Y/N couldn’t say no. This would get her and her sister out of debt and could pay for so much new equipment at the bakery. This sum of money could change her life. Plus, she’d get to fake date her idol? It seemed like an offer she couldn’t pass up. So she signed the contract. 

That’s what landed her here, waiting patiently at the door of Harry’s secret London home where his manager Jeff said to meet the two of them to discuss the plan from here on out. Her heart was beating extremely quickly, wanting to keep things cool. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, she wanted him to like her and trust her.

Harry hadn't started off jaded. Granted, most didn’t. They had the sparkle and excitement. But Harry had lost it. Years and years in the industry, from when he was a teenager to present, it had ruined it for him. That excitement he had previously had been watered down immensely. A lot, actually. But he was mostly tired of the things that came with the job— not music itself. 

Harry loved music. Making it, writing it, performing it. He loved his fans. But he hated what came with if. The people who constantly wanted things from him. Not a moment of privacy when he was out and about— though that had gotten better as his fans grew up, honestly. The media blowing up and twisting every bit of his words to fit their own wants. The fact that anyone he was seen with was a potential love interest in the eyes of the media. How they scared off and ruined good things for him because of it. He was tired of that. Every person who came to him made him wary. What was the motive? What was the reasoning behind them coming to talk to him? Fan or someone wanting a photo just for their Instagram? He wasn’t sure. 

Relationships had been hard and for now, he’d basically sworn off of them. After the bad ending with Camille, he had decided to take a long break. Until the label said he should probably have a PR move, one unlike his previous ones. One involving dating someone posing as a fan. A regular person, without his level of fame. Someone relatable to fans. Or that’s what Jeff has said to him. At this point, Harry was used to being tugged around with his dating life so he agreed. Did he want to? No. But he was under contracts and he wasn’t going to fight something so stupid. It would be a few dates, hanging out. Right? He didn’t even have to talk much to her. 

He was far too aware they probably offered her a good amount of money. Most likely why she was even there. So when he let Jeff open the door, he was annoyed with himself. 

She was pretty. Fuck off. That’s how he felt. A lackluster wave was given to her, a nod as well as she sat down across from him at his oak dining table. Cute. Pretty hair, soft cheeks. Petal pink lips. If this wasn’t a stunt he would probably think she was a lot cuter, though. 

A wave. 

Years worth of build up for this moment and all Y/N had gotten was a wave? She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Y/N offered him a smile, a shy but genuine one before looking over at Jeff. Obviously she had known who Jeff was, how could she forget the iconic ‘help me Jeffrey!’ Quote. The hundreds of photos of them together. It was surreal, but her shock surprisingly helped her stay calm. 

“Alright! Harry, Y/N. Y/N, Harry.” Jeff smiled at her, knowing Harry wasn’t happy about being here. “So have you been properly briefed about what’s required? It’s a lot more than we would usually ask of a project like this, a while longer.” He said. Harry looked at him in question. What?

“Yes, they gave me a brief outline at the meeting I went to but nothing too specific. They said you’d go over that here.” Y/N answered, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear. “Oh?” She asked, knowing she had signed a contract for a year. It was a long time but she assumed everyone was in it for that long. Y/N really didn’t know how PR relationships worked, she just assumed things about them through what she had seen on the internet and what all the stans were saying. She never really believed that people did things like this, but clearly, they did. 

Y/N looked over at Harry once again, taking any spare moment she could to really take him in. He was just sitting there looking so fucking perfect. An angel in the flesh. This was the man who had sparked her sexual awakening, who had taught her to be a badass bitch and to be kind to everyone she met. She knew she wasn’t his type and that this wouldn’t really end up like a fan fic, but she couldn’t wait to at least become his friend.

“Wait— how long?” His voice was deep and rather cold, but he wasn’t aware it was longer than usual. Granted— his own fault. Jeff said to look over the contract and he had just signed. It had been so many years of reading contracts he was tired of it. 

“A year. There’s a clause to extend it if need be, or shorten after 8 months.” Jeff shot him a look. “But that’s only one of the differences. I know you’re tired H, but get it together.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N here is the perfect girl next door. We found her to be perfect to do this with you. But it’ll be different because it’ll be a confirmed relationship. All other stunts, they’d been left to interpretation and never spoken about them. Blacklisted questions in interviews, etc. but we’re going with the narrative of you both being quite comfortable talking about it. Y/N won’t have to admit much considering she has her own life and job outside of this, but you’ll be talking about it in interviews. About this lovely girl who made you rethink how you went about relationships.” It was odd. A whole storyline for their relationships. 

“We know how to work this. You’ll both first be photographed together downtown. Harry holding your hand, Y/N. And then we will plant things in each of your social media posts to hint at it. Seemingly innocent but, a tattoo of his in the background. Wearing a shirt he has recently worn. His journal. All of those things.” Jeff explained the beginning of it. “From there, you’ll be more open. Post photos or do those Instagram stories your bakery is good at, Y/N. Have his voice in the background. Be photographed out and about. Simple things, grocery shopping. Y/N will come to your small gig, Harry. Hang around with your mum, and wear one of your rings on a necklace.” He would buy one and wear it for a bit before giving it to her so there was proof it was his. “When we get into it... we’re thinking cute Instagram posts from both of you. Open. Affectionate. A bit of an acting job. You’ll both be good at it though. I am confident you both can handle it.” He wasn’t sure how nonchalant Harry was seeming, though. Y/N seemed uneasy with how out of it Harry seemed to be and he didn’t blame her. 

“That’s quite a lot more than I bargained for.” Harry spoke again, sighing. “I suppose if it’s necessary for the numbers. I don’t know why I can't just do a meet and greet or something but. Okay.” He muttered.

Harry’s voice didn’t sound like the Harry Y/N knew. It was rather rough and not in the way she had grown to like it. It made her look away from him quickly, not wanting to piss him off. Maybe he was just having a bad day? She couldn’t really blame him. She was sure having all these fake relationships probably sucked. The tasks seemed fairly easy. Y/N knew that the team would be there to remind them about things and well, if she got to hang around Harry all the time, it really couldn’t be that bad. She really wanted to get to know Harry and hoped that he wanted to do the same. It would be more fun that way.

“You know why. Y/N is perfect. The fans will love her. She’s gorgeous, but has the girl next door stuff about her. Plus, she’s very nice. You’ve been lovely, Y/N.” Jeff turned to her, attempting to comfort her.

Y/N really needed to stop giving Harry the benefit of the doubt. He just kept proving her wrong. The tension between Harry and Jeff showed that Harry really wasn’t on board and it made Y/N feel strange. She thought that Harry had agreed to this and knew all the conditions, she didn’t think this was something that was sprung on him that he didn’t really get to think about. She smiled shyly again at Jeff’s compliment, looking back at Harry to try and read him. 

“I’m sure it’s weird having some stranger come around to be your girlfriend and all, but it’s just as new for me if that makes you feel better.” Y/N really wanted him to like her. Like really wanted him to like her.

Harry wasn’t sure what she was playing at. What she wanted. If it was more money or fame or whatever. He wasn’t sure exactly why she was doing this either besides for money. Whoever wanted to do this for fun would be absolutely crazy. 

“Thanks.” Harry nodded stiffly. Half of him didn’t like treating her coldly, but the bigger part was terrified of getting hurt. If she was using him for more money. Going to ask him to introduce her to someone else. No one ever liked him for him. They liked the things that came. The attention and money, luxury that was thrown at him. It was never for him or his love or jokes or interests.

Sure, people pretended to care but he knew far better than that. People didn’t care. They used him as a step stool to get what they wanted. Means to an end. Just like his last relationship that had really hurt him. 

Okay so he didn’t like her. Cool. Y/N couldn’t say it didn’t hurt because it definitely did, but she couldn’t sit here and cry about it. Y/N had come to this meeting and signed a year long contract and there was no getting out of it. So she sucked it up, looking back at Jeff who had explained what he wanted them to do. 

“So what we’ll do is have you both take photos of things today. Harry, you take a photo of your new guitar and have the flowers in the background. Y/N, you’ll take photos of the flowers and have just the bottom of the guitar on the counter.” It must be shocking for someone who wasn’t in the industry to see how this was so calculated.

“Would you want us to post them at different times then?” Y/N questioned, assuming hers would be uploaded first. If she posted it before Harry people would be more likely to connect the dots that the two of them were together. Well, that’s what Y/N would think as a fan. Being a fan and having a fan’s perspective would really help her in these situations because well, she knew what they wanted to hear and what they would think based on what she posted. Y/N felt like she could fully manipulate the fans to think whatever. It was quite simple really.

Y/N’s main account proved that she was a normal girl who also happened to be a Harry stan. She followed Harry on all the socials, but he probably would wait to follow her until they were public. That would make more sense. They needed to build up the story.

See. Harry wasn’t aware that she was a fan fan. There were plenty of people who went to his shows and shit for Instagram photos and videos. He didn’t even know her socials though so he didn’t check. It was maybe a little shitty of him to have a preconceived notion about her when she hadn’t barely talked to him, but he knew so many people who wanted to be in her position. Wanted to ‘date’ a celebrity until they found out that they have to travel with them and have to deal with fans and other people wanting your significant other. 

“I’m thinking not too far apart. Take the photos today but... hm. You post first. And then Harry will later. It’ll have people looking later on when they see the flowers. Fans are so insightful and research thoroughly.” Jeff was sure she knew that though. She’s had a fan account. “I have to go take this call— Harry, why don’t you tell Y/N about the album?” He excused himself then, going out and into the other room. 

No, no, Jeff, don’t leave. Y/N sighed to herself, nervous as all hell to be in a room with Harry alone when he had made it clear that he didn’t really want anything to do with her. But maybe they could talk about his album like Jeff suggested? Y/N loved his music, she often played it at her bakery. She was excited for the new album to drop and had genuine questions about it. 

Harry felt a bit on the spot but he just shrugged. “S’almost done. Don’t have a title yet. Choosing the singles soon I think.”

“That’s exciting.” Y/N smiled, “would you say it’s within the same vein as self titled or did you go in a different direction?” She asked not wanting to sound like an interviewer but this was a genuine question. God this was so uncomfortable for her, she wanted to run away and cry. She never thought that her idol would make her feel so uncomfortable in his presence. She was in his home and he clearly didn’t want her there, clearly didn’t want to have a fake girlfriend, and he was letting her know that pretty obviously whether he knew it or not.

The thing is, Harry knew he was making her uncomfortable but he didn’t really know how to stop it either. It wasn’t like he wanted to be fake. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be left alone with his music and his fans. Not a pretend fan posing as his girlfriend. That wasn’t ideal. No, he would much rather have real conversations with fans that weren’t paid to sit in his house and pretend to be interested in his music. He knew that Jeff wanted him to play nice though, so he answered the question vaguely. As always. 

“Different. A lot of different influences I guess. A lot of different things I wanted to make. It’s fun to do it.” God, Harry was being bland. But his fears drowned out the guilt he felt. Yeah, maybe it was harsh. He knew that. But he also knew that he would regret it if he didn’t. Who knew what this chick would spill to the press later on? What she would want from him! What else she would ask Jeff for.

“Well that’s good. I’m glad to hear it was fun.” Y/N nodded at his answer, feeling discouraged because he really didn’t seem like he was going to warm up to her no matter what she did. Y/N didn’t want to ask anything too specific in fear that he’d think she was a crappy fan, and well, she didn’t know how else to get him to warm up to her. These tricks usually worked on grumpy customers at the bakery. 

She wanted the earth to swallow her up. She was so embarrassed. She was just sat there, praying that she could leave soon so she could lock herself in her room and cry. The worst part was, no one, literally no one, could know about this relationship being fake. There could be no loose ends. 

“Again, I’m sorry about all this. Can’t imagine being in your position...” Y/N showed genuine empathy for him, attempting to get him on her good side one more time. Y/N wouldn’t give up on being kind, after all, he was the one that taught her that. It was just strange that he was acting this way towards someone he was going to be working closely with. Maybe this was just how he treated people professionally. He wasn’t mean, but he was cold. Y/N was still a fan at heart though and despite how he treated her she still would give her life for him. She loved him, cared for him, and would genuinely support him. It made her wonder if his whole nice guy persona was even real.

The hell? Why was she apologizing? Harry thought. She was the one getting paid for it. If he wasn’t in this position she wouldn’t be getting paid well. He wasn’t sure why this Y/N girl was trying to be so nice to him. No way in hell she could possibly imagine his annoyance. Perhaps she was a nice person or something, usually. But he was pretty positive she wasn’t rich and definitely did it for the money. It made him wary of being close to anyone when they were in this situation. Any time he had made friends with past stunts, they’d faked being truly wanting to hang out with him. Once it ended, they weren’t interested in hanging out when people couldn’t see them. It had hurt when he realized it was a pattern. 

Jeff came back in with a smile, but not oblivious to her sad face. Harry would get chewed out after, for sure. “Alright! I need you both to exchange numbers so you can communicate about meeting up. It’ll be pretty frequently.”

Y/N looked at Jeff with a small smile, nodding her head before pulling her phone out and handing it to Harry. She had changed her lock screens to something a bit more ordinary. After all, she didn’t want Harry thinking she was creepy or anything. Hanging out with Harry is something that she should be excited about, but suddenly the idea of it kind of scared her. Being alone and struggling to make conversation because she was just that intimidated by him. It was making her rethink all the years that she had spent fangirling over him. He didn’t know she was a fan, maybe that’s why he treated her the way he did? If he knew would he be fake and all over it? She didn’t want to know. 

“My days off from the bakery are Mondays and Wednesdays. But I know you probably have a set schedule so just let me know and I’ll work around it.” Y/N offered, genuinely wanting to show both Harry and Jeff that she was more than willing to cooperate. She wasn’t sure how she would get herself out of this one.

Harry sighed as he put his number in. God, he hoped she didn’t sell it. He didn’t want a new number. Someone had sold his number to fans before and it had sucked. As much as he adored his fans? He didn’t want them calling him every second. He was hesitant in handing her his phone. It was something he didn’t trust many people with but she tenderly took it and typed her own number in. Didn’t even try to snoop which was good— but then again, he was looking at the phone in her hand. 

Y/N was gentle with Harry’s phone in her hand, typing in all of her information into the contact so he didn’t have to ask. Something told her he would be annoyed having to asking her for her address if need be. So she just put everything in there, her birthday, her email, her phone number and the bakery number, as well as her address. 

“Monday’s and Wednesday’s work with him. He’s recording Thursday Friday and Sunday to give the voice a rest. Has some writing sessions he will take you to.” Jeff was annoyed as hell at Harry’s lack of kindness. He’d have to give him his own brand of talking to, but wasn’t sure if it would do much good. He was quite a stubborn person. An Aquarius at heart.

“That’s good. Yeah, I don’t know if you’re a morning person or if you like getting your sleep so um.. yeah just text me.” Y/N spoke kindly, still trying her hardest to be as accommodating as possible. To Y/N it wasn’t about the money, sure the money helped, but it was about giving Harry fans someone they could genuinely look up to. Y/N was a normal girl. She had normal sizes, normal tasks, normal likes as a human. She was a kind person. The fans would quickly find her information, quickly find out that she is a fan and would quickly see that Harry was finally dating someone that represented them. They had wanted someone like that for years, but too bad it was all fake.

Harry understood the context of it. He was going to date someone ‘normal’. Not in the world of the famous. Which in some cases, Harry wouldn’t mind. But there would be tons of things Y/N wouldn’t understand. What to be quiet about. Who to talk to and who not to. Privacy. Things she wouldn’t just... get. He had been in this life for 10 years now. It was his normal. And Y/N would have to learn it all and keep her mouth shut. 

“I am. I get up at 6.” He usually did. He could sleep in but he wasn’t the type of thing he did often. What she didn’t know was he had an awful time sleeping and needed to take stuff to help him. His mind never stopped, was always going. There was a lot Y/N didn’t know about him. He would do his best to make sure she didn’t find out.

It was hard for Y/N, continuing to be kind, but to keep herself from crying. She felt so out of place and so unwelcome, god she hoped that he would warm up to him. Maybe this was a terrible idea? Too bad she was in it for the long haul now. 

“Jeff, I have a question.” Y/N spoke up shyly, “obviously people don’t know anything about this yet, so there isn’t a microscope over my life just yet. I want to make sure I take all the precautions I can to keep my privacy to an extent, but also don’t violate Harry’s.” She genuinely was worried about that. She didn’t want to say too much or do the wrong things, she also didn’t want people finding out where she lived. Where she worked, sure, well... she probably would have to stop working at the bakery if things got too hectic. Y/N looked at Harry once again, a soft and gentle expression on her face. She wondered what it was about her that was making him act this way because this wasn’t the Harry she knew, not at all. All she wanted to do now is go home as quickly as possible and cry. She really wanted to take her posters down, really wanted to hide everything but frankly, everyone would question why she suddenly took things down. Y/N had to continue to keep her cool.

Jeff’s face softened. they’d lucked out with this one. Harry was an idiot when it came to things like this, put his blinders on— he knew well enough. But Y/N would help his career. Hell, maybe she could be his friend and help him come out of the funk he had been in with trusting people. 

Harry didn’t let it show on his face, but he was impressed with what she said. It didn’t change much, but he had it on the back of his mind. No one else had to think of these things before because they’d just known, but the fact that she had asked was nice. Time would only tell if it was genuine, though. 

“That’s a good question— I was actually about to ask about your social media. You’re going to need to change passwords. Verify everything twice. Take any potential tracking information away like the whole location finding on your phone so your friends can find you. Any social media accounts not reported to us originally in our first meeting would need to be shown. I suggest doing a deep clean and moving things out of it, as much as you can. Not enough to make you look like you did it on purpose. But... think of what you’d look for.” Jeff knew Y/N was a fan so she would have a similar brain.

“Okay yeah, I’ll need some help with that.” Y/N blushed, looking down at her hands. She had reported all her socials to them, yes, all of them. All her fan accounts and her main accounts. She wasn’t sure how to turn off all the tracking things or what to take down. She wasn’t problematic in any sense, so it wasn’t like she had any content she needed to delete. But it would probably be things like taking locations off of photos and turning off her location on snap map and for any of her friends that had her on there. She had actually done the latter this morning. 

“Also, I really don’t intend on telling anyone about this unless you give me the go ahead. So please, if there is anything you need me to do, let me know?” Y/N really was trying to think of everything here. She wanted to make sure this was seamless because she knew the fans would be like hawks over another fan being Harry’s girlfriend, if they found out it was PR they’d be crushed. Their whole image of Harry would be ruined. They needed to make this as real as possible. Y/N had so many suggestions, so many insights on what it was like to be a fan. She definitely wanted to speak up about anything that could potentially ruin this because well, this was Harry’s career and they couldn’t be caught doing this.

“Perfect! You’re going to do well with this, Y/N.” Jeff had been the one to find her so technically, this was his finding. He hoped that she could get Harry to realize how weird he was being. Because ultimately? He was a nice guy. He loved his fans, his friends and his family. Strangers scared him. He didn’t know who to trust and that made him act strangely. His team knew it. He was always polite to people he worked around but when it came to people invading his personal life, getting close? He said, no ma’am. “I’m happy that you’re aware of how it works a little. It makes it a bit easier. Harry here has had a few almost disasters with these types of things.” Jeff smirked at him, making Harry grumble and blush a little bit. Fuck. That wasn’t something he liked talking about too much. “Anyways... Y/N, we need you to be yourself. That’s why you were chosen, yeah? Just continue on. Be less active on that other twitter account of yours for the moment.” He had a whole plan for that. “Don’t stop completely but... I’ll send you ideas of what to tweet. Keep it vague but that you’re excited.” 

Harry didn’t know about the fan account. He would have, if he had read any paperwork, but right now he didn’t have a clue. 

They wanted her to be herself, which shouldn’t be too much of a problem. She just had to be aware that Harry was in her life now, consistently. He was her ‘boyfriend’ now. That’s something Y/N never thought she’d say. But here she was. 

“Okay, can do.” Y/N nodded, already knowing not to tweet as much on the fan account because well, she wouldn’t be doing that if she was hanging out with Harry. It would be hard for her not to tell anyone but she knew she had to do it. This was her duty as a fan to the fans, to make them feel represented and loved. “And what’s the story? Like how we met?” Y/N asked, feeling like that was important to know as well. She mostly asked for Harry’s sake because he clearly didn’t read the contract or the emails that had been sent around on the topic. This was an important first meeting, she assumed Harry wouldn’t want to hang out with her today but they probably would sometimes next week.

“Well, we wanted to leave that up to you. I had the idea of you both frequenting the same coffee shop— and before you both roll your eyes, I know it’s a fan fiction trope and I know that. But it’s believable considering Y/N doesn’t have any true connection that would be explainable to the music or entertainment industry.” Jeff explained. “If you have better ideas, Y/N, please feel free to tell me. However— we are trying to show this as you both fell for one another quite quickly. You both are very fond of one another and are around each other quite a lot.” He knew that Harry would be hard to deal with so he was definitely going to be offering Y/N some sort of bonus. “I think after the photos, we will have you both photographed leaving a dinner together next week. You’ll go with both myself and my girlfriend so it won’t be just throwing you two into the water.” Plus, he didn’t want her to be alone with Harry like that out in public without experiencing it first with him there. Jeff felt slightly protective of her, too. Like a little sister. “Also, I know you already said he’s but being clear— you’re okay with hand holding and physical touches in public with him, yeah? And for photos?”

Y/N laughed at the idea, “I mean that does work.” She said shrugging to herself. “But do we have anything to back that up? Have we ever been to the same coffee shop at the same time where someone who works there can confirm?” Y/N was really thinking about every detail here. “Jeff you’ve been to my bakery before haven’t you? Could just run with the fact that we became acquainted and you introduced us?” She felt like that was far more believable and paps wouldn’t have gotten photos of Jeff anyway so the story was contained between Harry’s team and her bakery. Her coworkers wouldn’t know who Jeff is, it was really fool proof. Also, did he say dinner next week? Wow, that was fast but she would be ready. “Where is dinner going to be? Just want to think about what I should wear.” Y/N blushed, wanting to make sure she looked nice for their first encounter together. Something very her but very consistent with something Harry would like on a girl. Y/N had been following Harry for ages, she knew what kind of outfit to wear based on what kind of restaurant it was. A casual dinner outfit for Harry was quite dressed up, so she’d probably end up doing a bold trouser, heeled boot, and plain blouse combo.

“Actually— that’s a good idea. I didn’t think about the staff thing. This was definitely done at the last minute so I’m not on my A game right this moment. Wonderful— lets do that.” 

Harry didn’t know anything about her, he realized. She worked in a bakery? He did when he was younger. He wasn’t sure if she knew that or not but it did make him a tiny bit more interested in her. Why would she do this? There had to be a real reason. He was positive. 

“Actually— Harry, go in there a few times this week. Make it somewhere people know you go. It’ll be believable that you found a new place and love it. And some of her coworkers will catch on, so on and so forth. I can call a tip, perhaps tomorrow? I know it’s starting early but we are on a schedule.” Jeff noted.

Harry was going to go to write tomorrow, but that obviously wasn’t about to happen. “I guess so. I can make time.” He had a pretty free day otherwise but it still annoyed him. However he was hoping there were good treats. Harry was a good actor when it came down to it. He hoped she could tell— didn’t want to thrust her about with his actions. In public was acting. All of it.

“And yes, about the touches and stuff. As long as it’s something Harry would actually do in public, yeah.” Y/N explained, knowing Harry was relatively private when he was in relationships. He didn’t do much PDA and she’d be okay with anything he was okay with. “Just um, let me know what’s okay.” It was a bit nerve—wracking, having to do all of this and make sure everything was sorted. Y/N knew a lot about Harry so she was positive that it wouldn’t be a problem, she’d only learn more. It was Harry that had to do a bit of learning about her. He would find out most things about her fairly quickly, she was an open book. 

“What type of baked good do you like?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious. “I’ll have some for you come around, pack you a little box.” She blushed, expressing something to him that she had always wanted to do. She knew he was a baker back in the day, maybe they’d bond over it?

Her coworkers would be shocked that Harry would be there considering Y/N was a massive fan and they knew that. But that’s when Y/N would tell them about it all. “You want me to tell my staff what exactly?” She wondered, “that we are kinda sorta seeing each other? Or that we’re just seeing how things go?”

“Uh— I like lemon things. Ginger cookies. Scones.... anything really.” Harry said quietly. It wasn’t said as coldly as the last couple words had been. Maybe it was because of baked goods? Regardless.... he was hoping that said bakery was good. He was obviously going to pay for them. 

“He also loves red velvet cupcakes.” Jeff piped up. “But I think that it’s a lovely idea, being familiar with what he likes... you’ve been so smart.” She really was. It was almost scary. Jeff approves immensely. Even Harry had to admit it was surprising to see her full of good ideas. “I think you should say you’ve been seeing one another. Not sure about where it will go but you really like him. Trust me— Harry here will be able to make them believe he’s very into you. His ability has made it so we’ve never been caught doing this thing. Not like that Camila and Shawn couple. They’re having leaks all over.” He winced. Their poor PR.

Y/N smiled and nodded at him, already having in mind what she would have ready for him when he came. She had an incredible lemon bar recipe and some other bits. Of course red velvet cupcakes. “Red Velvet are my favorite too. And carrot cake.” She commented, blushing once again. It’s true, Harry had been very good at all the PR relationships. She’d soon find out which ones were and which weren’t. She was determined to be the most coveted of them all though, the one that stuck out and actually stuck around hopefully. But she was positive that she’d fall for Harry’s act, hell, she’d fallen for him a long long time ago. “My staff is really tight knit, my sister runs most things actually. I trust they’ll keep things on the down low if I ask them to.” Y/N nodded, knowing that nothing would slip past her team unless instructed. She had a good feeling about all of this, they seemed to have most things under control. Y/N would help tie up loose ends that fans might think of and as long as they followed her lead, it would work.

“If you feel as though your sister can truly hold a secret, you can tell her. It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t have someone to lean on.” Jeff said. He trusted her enough. Harry looked at him suspiciously. 

“Wait— hold on. What about an NDA?” Harry asked hurriedly. “We can't have any bit of this shit going out.” He was scared. So scared of someone finding out and thinking he was some damn fraud. 

“Harry— it’s fine. I’m sure she had enough sense to judge that a sister would tell or not. It’s up to her, anyways. Just remind her of the immense legal action that could take place if someone were to talk.” Jeff shrugged, knowing that Y/N really did know. “But we’ll have a tip called in about a bakery he’s been rumored to go to— no way that they’ll know if it’s true— and they’ll probably take shots through the window. We can escalate later during the week to him picking you up from work to bring you home. Something like that before the dinner.” He thought out loud. “Thoughts? Y/N?” Harry has been quiet. He didn’t like these things so he didn’t say much. Just let them plan whatever and wing with it later on. He was kind of shut down internally.

“I’ll think about it. But I’m still apprehensive to tell anyone. I wouldn’t want this getting out regardless... I wouldn’t want fans to lose trust in Harry just because I decided I wanted to tell my sister.” Y/N explained, knowing she’d probably tell Katya if it got too intense, but for now, she wasn’t saying anything. “Seems fine. I think once a week or maybe twice a week is more than enough. Don’t want to over kill either. Essentially, if he’s in the area he can pop by.” Y/N explained, thinking that was the best way to go about it. “I know you said we are on a schedule but you don’t want it to look unnatural either.” She said and sighed as she looked over at Harry. 

He really didn’t seem to like this and she understood but she hoped that he would loosen up even a little bit. She wasn’t a terrible person, all he had to do was ask. Y/N was pretty much an open book. “Is there anything else?” Y/N asked, eager to get things done and maybe chat to Harry a bit if he was willing before going home.

“I don’t think so. We’re going to try and take it as it comes so we don’t overwhelm you.” Jeff was the main talker and Harry was kind of just sitting and watching. Trying to read her. Either she was a very good hiding person, or she was good. Either way, he didn’t trust her. Lots of people had seemed sweet and generous and fun when he had first met them only to turn out to absolutely wreck his fragile heart. He knew he was fragile that way and he had given people the benefit of the doubt one too many times. He didn’t trust his own radar anymore. The more Harry looked, the prettier Y/N got— which was infuriating. It pissed him off internally because she had the type of lips every man wanted wrapped around their cock, and beautiful legs he had seen when she walked in. He never took women for granted, would never disrespect them, but his initial reaction was arousal and that made it even worse with his trust issues. Her eyes were soft and doll like but had a sharpness to them that he was far too aware of. She was smart. Incredibly so. And she was curvier than he usually dated— or was seen with, actually, because he had a few one nighters with girls that was far bigger than Y/N and he had loved it. He liked her body. It was a perfect mix, he thought. And then got annoyed about even thinking about it. Damn it.

Y/N nodded, “Alright, thank you very much. I’ll um... I’ll take the picture of those flowers and I’ll get out of your hair.” She chuckled apologetically, sensing that Harry really just wanted this to end and she would give that to him. He made her so nervous, now more so because she was scared of making him angry with her. Harry had always been someone she didn’t want to get on the bad side of. Harry was so nice to everyone that it really made her upset that for some reason he had singled her out and not liked her. It was disappointing. But I guess people were right when they say, never meet your idols. In many ways, Harry was Y/N’s ideal man. She liked how driven he was, how multi talented he was, how charming he was, how he was unapologetically himself. Plus he was scientifically proven to be one of the most attractive men on this planet next to ryan gosling. It was a shame that a lot of the things she had thought about Harry originally would slowly crumble as she got to know him better. It hurt, but she’d keep that hurt to herself. Just because the illusion was ruined for her didn’t mean it was ruined for everyone.

Harry felt bad, because she seemed to be in a hurry to leave. It was what he was supposed to want, so why did it make him so uncomfortable? He hadn’t wanted for her to be upset. Just... to keep her distance. She had these baby eyes and soft cheeks that looked sad and he wanted to give her a reassuring smile but he was trying to remind himself that there was potential danger here. Most likely she was a wannabe actress. Testing it out on him. Made sense. 

“Okay.” He nodded, standing up. When he did so, he realized he was quite a lot taller than her. Usually, he had models who matched his height. But she was smaller. Cute. He hadn’t experienced that before. Knocking that thought out of his head, he took the photo of his new coke bottle green acoustic, letting the flowers show in the back before he rested it back up against the counter. Y/N took her turn with her picture, taking a bit more time than Harry. Probably a better result too, and he wished he had patience at the moment.

A ping of sadness spread over her, she thought maybe he’d pretend to try and get to know her a bit but nope. All hope was lost then and Y/N went to take a photo of the flowers in a way that would fit her personal Instagram aesthetic. She usually posted shit like this so it wouldn’t be too out there. Once she was happy with the photo she had slipped her phone back into her pocket, looking at Harry and Jeff with a small smile. 

“Well, um, thanks for having me.” Y/N started off, pulling on her jacket. “And I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asked Harry with a small tinge of hope. He had said he would visit her bakery but she was still worried he wouldn’t show up. She felt so small. Being who she is, she went in for a hug anyway. Both figuratively and physically, Harry had intimidated her and she was weary about every move around him at the minute. Maybe she’d get used to it. “It was nice to meet you, Harry.” Y/N gave him a genuine smile, feeling even more shy now that she was so close to him. 

This would be torture.

Harry was a bit startled, but relented and hugged back. It was a bit weak, but he gently patted her back. God damn it. Why was she acting so sweet and nice and innocent? He would almost rather her be truthful about her wants of money and fame. It would be a lot more tolerable. 

“You as well.” He pulled back, face neutral. Thank god he had gotten his hard on down a decent amount. Never would he live this down. He didn’t just get hard for no reason. That girl had bamboozled him and was trying to trick him and wouldn’t let it happen. When she left, Harry continued to stare at her back before the door shut. And then he was promptly slapped upside the head by Jeff. 

“Ow! What was that for?” He hissed, rubbing the spot he had been smacked. Jeff Gave him an incredulous look, shaking his head. 

“You idiot. You’re going to scare away someone who will ultimately help your career and relationship with your friends.” Jeff scolded. “That girl is nothing but sweet. She’s doing this for you, and you know why. She’s a kind person and you better not make her run on us early. Do you want the press to get wind of it? She could talk, if you really treat her poorly. Looked like a damn kicked puppy when you wouldn’t talk to her.” He got his dad face on, crossing his arms. 

“You’re going to have to suck it up. Regardless if you actually like her or not, you’ve got to be decent to her. She’s stuck with you for a year.” Harry was irritated with that. Stuck with him? Although... maybe he was accurate with that.

Y/N tried her best to keep her tears at bay, putting on some music that would keep her energy up until she was in the comfort of her own home. She had been as discreet as possible leaving Harry’s secret London home. To the public, he lived somewhere in Hampstead which was actually closer to where Y/N lived in Camden.

After about an hour on public transportation, Y/N had finally made it back to her cozy flat. Tears immediately began to form as she unlocked the door, sniffling as she took off her coat and threw it to the ground with an absent mind. She ran to her room, storming to the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper. She needed to be prepared. How could someone she looked up to so much been such a dick to her? She could understand he didn’t trust strangers, but he truly made her feel like she wasn’t even worth basic human respect. Y/N was trying to be as kind as possible to him despite him being such an asshole to her and even still, he gave her a weak hug and response. As if she was a chore. It made her feel sick to her stomach. So she cried for a while, showered, got cozy in bed and went to sleep. She had early mornings at the bakery seeing as everything was freshly baked. So she was up at 3:30 every morning to make sure she was ready for their opening at 7.

----

‘Hello. I am coming in at 9:30. H.’

Harry looked it over. It wasn’t too friendly but wasn’t too rude, right? He was overthinking. Y/N had made him think last night. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her too badly, because while he did see her sad eyes he thought he was making it up in his head to try and feel bad for her. Jeff has confirmed it and made that ugly feeling in his stomach crawl into his throat. He sat and thought about how to make it so they were at a distance, but she wasn’t too hurt. Every part of the scared side of him said to continue his actions, though. He wasn’t being mean. Right? ‘Wrong. You dick.’ The other side of him told him. Conflict was something he saw all too much of in his life. He knew too well about the issues at hand. But he had always taken it so he wasn’t sure how not to prepare for it. 

Pulling up to a quaint little bakery, Harry smiled to himself. It was cute. A punny name. He liked it. Somewhere he definitely could see himself going randomly if he had seen it. Parking his car across the street, he sat for a moment and gathered himself. Now to prepare for being cute to her.

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t smile at the text. She had always imagined getting a text from Harry and here she was getting a text from Harry. It wasn’t anything special, but it was to her despite how sad he had made her yesterday. She had dressed herself in a baby blue sweater and overalls, putting her hair up into a messy yet contained bun. All that crying yesterday made her eyes fairly puffy so she made sure to do some fresh, no makeup makeup look. She wanted to look cute if he was coming. 

“What’s gotten into you this morning?” Katya asked, seeing Y/N’s giddy mood. They were currently baking everything they’d prepped yesterday, putting out all the freshly baked breads, bagels, cinnamon rolls, and donuts. 

“Dunno, just... happy I guess.” Y/N smiled, saying it in a way that would raise questions. Perfect, get her thinking. Her excitement was genuine. He was going to come and see her and be sweet to her, it was like a whole new interaction between the two. Best part was, she could just play out everything she imagined in her head. It was a perfect set up. Jeff was so smart with getting a fan to do this.

“Hm. We’ll see. That looks like a boy smile.” Her sister really had no clue. Everyone knew she was a big fan, and would be absolutely floored when he came in. 

Harry sighed against his steering wheel, he put on his big boy pants and decided to get a move on. Today, he wore a loose white button up with a few of the buttons undone, black trousers and red boots with ‘sucker’ on the back of them. He had been sent the whole collection and did quite like it. But his pea coat was unbuttoned, car keys stuffed into the coat pocket after locking the door. The little bells chimed as he walked in, and he took a look around. It was very cute. Instagram worthy, some would say. It smelled really good too, which was a plus.

The earlier morning rush had passed, kids now at school and parents now at work. The rest of the day really consisted of prepping more goods and serving whoever came in. Y/N really liked working at the bakery, it was her safe space to be creative and feel good. She liked to spread the message of kindness she had learned from Harry into her store everyday. 

There were a few people in the bakery when he came in, sitting drinking coffee and doing work. They hadn’t really noticed who it was, and even if they knew they didn’t seem to care too much. Y/N popped her head from out the back and smiled widely when she saw him, walking over to the register so she was closer to him. 

“Good Morning, how can I help you?” She asked in a teasing tone, that giddy grin still on her face. Y/N was going to let him take the lead, letting him choose how this interaction would go but of course Y/N was going to turn up the flirt factor so that anyone surrounding them could tell there was something going on between the two of them. “You look nice.” She hummed.

“Hello, love.” Harry felt a weird gushy feeling in his stomach when she had smiled so widely at him. Fuck. Y/N looked so pretty. Hair perfectly messy, lashes long and eyes wide and glittering. Her lips had a bit of gloss or something along those lines and he wondered if it was flavored for a moment. “You do as well. Like the color.” He did, and that wasn’t even a lie. He loved the color and how it complimented her skin and hair. Made her eyes pop out. “I would really love a cup of coffee... and a hug.” 

Though she was surprised, the look didn’t stay long on her face. Instead, he was met with a gushy smile and a crinkle of her nose, “can do, yeah.” Y/N hummed as she rounded the corner to come give him a proper hug. Closing her eyes as she snuggled into his chest for that brief moment.

God. Harry was fucking himself over with this, and he didn’t even know why he suggested that but his heart twinged when she looked surprised for a moment, but beamed like a ray of sun before rounding the corner. Her apron was taken off and he decided to take the initiative and hug her. It was a friendly hug, held for a bit too long. Her body was warm, warming him from the cold he had felt outside. Her cheek pressed against his chest which had been bare since he had forgone a few buttons, and his mouth felt dry. He hadn’t had a decent hug in months by anyone but his mother. Pulling back, he brushed a tendril of hair away that had escaped. 

“I came to see if you’d be so kind and give me some pastries.” Harry spoke quietly, making the moment look private— even though he had heard the choked gasp and the whispering going on behind them— her coworkers. It was sweet really, the two of them clearly excited to see each other, but also not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that they were like that. It was perfect acting. 

Well, she wasn’t acting. Y/N looked up at him with enamored eyes, the smile never leaving her face as he even spoke quietly to her. 

“Of course, how many are you thinking?” She asked just as quietly, biting her lip a little as she hesitated to move back behind the counter to get his coffee going. “Black coffee yeah? For here or to go?” Y/N confirmed, knowing that he didn’t take cream or sugar in his coffee from being a fan. She’d just say Jeff told her. 

Her coworkers were bewildered, Katya’s eyes nearly popping out of her socket as she watched the interaction unfold. Y/N giggled at them, shaking her head as she went to get a box for Harry’s goods. 

“What would you like? Anything you’d like, on the house.” Y/N told him, standing behind the massive glass cases full of baked goods. “Lemon bars, red velvet cupcakes, and anything else?”

“Absolutely not on the house, I’ll be paying. Nice try though, pet.” Pet was a good nickname for her. She was a responsibility— but a cute one. Even if it burned his ass to think about her like that. But right now? Y/N was plenty cute— and she acted very, very well. Harry almost believed this true excitement. Thankfully, he found that he fed off of that energy from her acting. “You already know? Impressive.” Harry looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, the coffee black. Lemon bars, the cupcakes. Hm. Throw a few random cookies in there too. I’ll be going to write for a little while.” That was good to do, right! Throw in a daily activity. He felt his mind was off when he was around her. It went a little crooked, was the best way to say it. He got distracted and honestly? It was kind of infuriating. He supposed it wasn’t her fault, unless she was secretly a siren and singing a silent song. Or had a spell attracting him to her, even though he was fighting it hardcore.

“Hey.” Y/N pouted when he refused her offer, “let me do something for you.” She said firmly because she meant it. A few baked goods and some coffee cost her nothing in the long run, but she wanted to do something nice for Harry because all the fancy dinners and experiences about to come were something she’d never be able to repay him for. Y/N packed everything up in the box, even adding a cute little note that said ‘tell me which was your favourite — Y/N ❤️ xx’. She put it into a paper bag and set it on the counter next to the cup of coffee. She was actually quite excited for him to try them, she wanted his opinion and frankly she knew they were damn good. 

“Long day ahead of you then?” Y/N asked, referencing him writing. She was genuinely asking because she cared, wishing that he was comfortable enough with her that she could come and give him a cuddle when he got home. What was she thinking? This isn’t real, he’s acting. And she’s meant to be acting as well.

It did strike him off that she didn’t take the money. Or the offer of paying. Usually people say that when they want it anyways and just expect you to insist, but she really didn’t seem to care about it. Which... was suspicious. While the bakery was very cute, it definitely wasn’t high end. He could tell they needed some new chairs and definitely some updated paint but he thought it added to the charm. Maybe they truly couldn’t afford it? He was curious as to what the hell she spent the money she was going to get on. 

It was true that the bakery was a little bit worn, but with the money she’d be getting from this contract halfway through? They’d be able to afford closing for however long they needed to renovate. Y/N has even wanted to buy the space upstairs as well and host small acoustic gigs for local musicians. 

“Uh.. I mean, a little bit. I’ll be writing a bit and then going to a very boring meeting.” It was the truth. God, how was he going to be able to focus? Harry was fighting a battle internally with how it was with her, trying to read things and find warning signs but it was hard. She was scary. Not in an outright way— but the way that. If this was real! If he had just walked in and met her at the coffee shop and didn’t think this was acting? He’d give her his number. She had an amazing charm around her that he was positive she had to know about— though acted as though she didn’t. “I hate to cut it short, pet. But I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?” He took hold of her smaller hand and squeezed it, before stuffing a hundred pounds into the tip jar. He turned around before she could protest, only turning when he got to the door to shoot her a wink. And as soon as he was out the door, he heaved a heavy breath. Christ. Why?

“Aw well, text me if you get too bored.” Y/N gave him a cheeky smile, leaning on the counter a little bit so she was closer to him. “Have a good day, pet.” She teased right back, smirking as he started to walk off. He really didn’t have to put a hundred pound note in there, that was flexing a bit, but it was very nice. It would go straight towards the bakery as it normally did.

3..2..1…

“What the actual fuck was that?” Her sister came storming over with wide eyes. “Y/N— that was... he's all over your walls. He has been on them for years and now he’s callin’ you pet?” She was shrieking but for good reason. Harry bloody Styles came in and hugged and flirted with her sister, they seemed to know each other well enough. It was incredibly shocking and Y/N hadn’t said a damn word to anyone. She used to stay up to watch his tv show appearances— hell, Katya was 99% sure she still did. But now? “You guys have each other’s numbers.... Y/N, you can't be for real.” Her eyes were wide as she looked at her blushing sister. Anyone would be just as freaked out. Harry was not only a celebrity, but she had seen the times she spent hundreds on tickets and had photos of him as her lock screen— which had mysteriously disappeared.

“Yeah, yeah he is.” Y/N giggled, blushing deeply as her sister looked at her in awe. Her sister knew first hand how much Y/N loved Harry. She had watched how Harry single handedly saved her from the darkest of times, how genuinely happy he made her. Hell, she even went to a show with her once just to see what all the fuss was about. Y/N wrapped her arms around her sister in a hug, squeezing her tightly because she really appreciated how excited she was. Her poor sister was convinced it was real and Y/N couldn’t break it to her. Couldn’t tell her Harry was actually really cold to her and not anything like that. 

Truth is, Y/N had a really shitty love life. All her ‘boyfriends’ weren’t really boyfriends and Harry was sort of the one thing that kept her going. She just dreamed about what she wanted, dreamed about how Harry would treat her better in hope that one day maybe, she’d meet someone like him. 

“His manager, Jeff. He comes here a lot you know... and he um, he introduced the two of us.” Y/N explained, being her shy and coy self. It was 100% believable.

----

Harry went to the writing session and found himself writing about her eyes. Bright eyes and lush thighs and every bit of silky hair he wanted to wrap around his hand. He had very dirty thoughts about this girl and it translated in to paper. 

Harry had to go home and jerk off. And it was embarrassingly quick. He thought about how her sweater had dipped down and he’d seen the swell of her breasts, imagining taking her back behind that counter and fucking her sweet cherry mouth and watching his cum drip from her lips down to her tits. Knowing that in his fantasy world, she’d be walking around with his cum on her— and that was quickly done. 

The guilt he felt after though? It was annoying. He was so cold to her but wanted to fuck her raw. So in that guilt, he went up to the kitchen and tasted a lemon square— nearly fucking moaned. It was so good. He knew it was part of the whole thing to go there, but he wouldn’t be complaining because if he got those every time? He would be set. 

‘Lemon square is good. Thanks. H.’ 

It was dry but also a compliment, so he didn’t feel so bad for using her face in his dirty mind.

Y/N was about half way done with her day when she got that text from Harry, smiling a bit because he actually decided to text her. Sure she left a note, but he didn’t have to text. That was a private thing that they did after all. 

‘glad you liked them 🍋’ 

She wondered why on earth she felt so fucking happy. He had just popped in for a brief interaction but it made her whole day fly by. Before she knew it she was closing down the store, locking up to head home. “You going to see your man tonight?” Katya asked curiously and Y/N blushed. 

“No, unfortunately. But we’re going for dinner next week with his manager and his wife.” Y/N told her, knowing stuff like that she could tell her. “Might hang out tomorrow though cause it’s my day off, but he’s a busy man so I’m not sure yet.” Even hearing herself speak about Harry like this was so strange, but she’d get used to it for sure.

--------------------------------------------

[part 2]

A/N: Harry :( why he have to be like that?? better hold on tight for this one - n+d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[geshertzarmeod]

Favorite Books of 2020

I wanted to put together a list! I read 74 new books this year, and I keep track of that on Goodreads - feel free to add or follow me if you want to see everything! I’m going to focus on the highlights, and the books that stuck with me personally in one way or another, in approximate order. Also, all but two of them (#5 and #7 on the honorable mention list) are queer/trans in some way. Links are to Goodreads, but if you’re looking to get the books, I suggest your library, the Libby app using your library, your local bookstore, or Bookshop.

The Faggots & Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell, illus. by Ned Asta (originally published 1977). I had a hard beginning of the year and was in a work environment where my queerness was just not welcomed or wanted. I read this in the middle of all of that, and it helped me so much. I took this book with me everywhere. I read it on planes. I read it on the bus, and on trains, and at shul. I showed it to friends... sometimes at shul, or professional development conferences. It healed my soul. Now I can’t find it and might get a new copy. When I reviewed it, in February, I wrote: “I think we all need this book right now, but I really needed this book right now. Wow. This book is magic, and brings back a sense of magic and beauty to my relationship with the world.” Also I bought my copy last July, in a gay bookstore on Castro St. in SF, and that in itself is just beautiful to me. (Here’s a post I made with some excerpts)

Once & Future duology, especially the sequel, Sword in the Stars, by A.R. Capetta and Cory McCarthy. Cis pansexual female King Arthur Ari Helix (she's the 42nd reincarnation and the first female one) in futuristic space with Arab ancestry (but like, from a planet where people from that area of earth migrated to because, futuristic space) works to end Future Evil Amazon.com Space Empire with her found family with a token straight cis man and token white person. Merlin is backwards-aging so he's a gay teenager with a crush and thousands of years of baggage. The book’s entire basis is found family, and it's got King Arthur in space. And the sequel hijacks the original myth and says “fuck you pop culture, it was whitewashed and straightwashed, there were queer and trans people of color and strong women there the whole time.” Which is like, my favorite thing to find in media, and a big part of why I love Xena so much. It’s like revisionist history to make it better except it’s actually probably true in ways. Anyway please read these books but also be prepared for an absolutely absurd and wild ride. Full disclosure though, I didn’t love the first book so much, it’s worth it for the sequel!

The Wicker King by K. Ancrum. This book hurt. It still hurts. But it was so good. It took me on a whole journey, and brought me to my destination just like it intended the whole time. The author’s note at the end made me cry! The sheer NEED from this book, the way the main relationship develops and shifts, and how you PERCEIVE the main relationship develops and shifts. I’m in awe of Ancrum’s writing. If you like your ships feral and needy and desperate and wanting and D/S vibes and lowkey super unhealthy but with the potential, with work, to become healthy and beautiful and right, read this book. This might be another one to check trigger warnings for though.

The Entirety of The Daevabad Trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty. I hadn’t heard of this series until this year, when a good friend recommended it to me. It filled the black hole in me left by Harry Potter. The political and mystical/fantasy world building is just *chef’s kiss* - the complexity! The morally grey, everyone’s-done-awful-things-but-some-people-are-still-trying-to-do-good tapestry! The ROMANCE oh my GOD the romance. If I’m absolutely fully invested in a heterosexual romance you know a book is good, but also this book had background (and then later less background) queer characters! And the DRAMA!!! The third book went in a direction that felt a little out of nowhere but honestly I loved the ride. I stayed up until 6am multiple times reading this series and I’d do it again.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon. I loved this book so much that it’s the only book I reviewed on my basically abandoned attempt at a book blog. This book is haunting, horrifying, disturbing, dark, but so, so good. The character's voices were so specific and clear, the relationships so clearly affected by circumstance and yet loving in the ways they could be. This is my favorite portrayal of gender maybe ever, it’s just... I don’t even have the words but I saw a post @audible-smiles​ made about it that’s been rattling in my head since. And, “you gender-malcontent. You otherling,” as tender pillow talk??? Be still my heart. Be ready, though, this book has all the triggers.. it’s a .

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender. This book called me out on my perspective on love. Also, it made me cry a lot. And it has two different interesting well-written romance storylines. And a realistic coming-into-identity narrative about a Black trans demiboy. And a nuanced discussion of college plans and what one might do after college. And some big beautiful romcom moments. I wish I had it in high school. I’m so glad I have it now! (trigger warning for transphobia & outing, but the people responsible are held accountable by the end, always treated as not okay by the narrative, and the MC’s friends, and like... this is ownvoices and it’s GOOD.)

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. My Goodreads review says, “I have no idea what happened, and I loved it.” That’s not wrong, but to delve deeper, this book has an ethereal feeling that you get wrapped up in while reading. Nothing makes sense but that’s just as it should be. You’re hooked. It is so atmospheric, so meta, so fascinating. I’ve seen so many people say they interpreted this character or that part or the ending in all different ways and it all makes sense. And it’s all of this with a gay main character and romance and the central theme, the central pillar being a love of and devotion to stories. Of course I was going to love it.

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl’s Confabulous Memoir by Kai Cheng Thom. “Because maybe what really matters isn’t whether something is true, or false. Maybe what matters is the story itself; what kinds of doors it opens, what kinds of dreams it brings.” This book was so good and paradigm shifting. It reminded me of #1 on this list in the way it turns real life experience and hard, tragic ones at that (in this case, of being a trans girl of color who leaves home and tries to make a life for herself in the city, with its violence), into a beautiful, haunting fable. Once upon a time.

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver. I need to reread this book, as I read it during my most tranceful time of 2020 and didn’t write a review, so I forgot a lot. What I do remember is beautiful and important nonbinary representation, a really cute romance, an interesting parental and familial/sibling dynamic that was both heartbreaking and hopeful, and an on-page therapy storyline. Also Mason Deaver just left twitter but was an absolutely hilarious troll on it before leaving and I appreciate that (and they just published a Christmas novella that I have but haven’t read yet!)

The Truth Is by NoNieqa Ramos. It took a long time to trust this book but I’m so glad I did. It’s raw and real and full of grief and trauma (trigger warnings, that I remember, for grief, death (before beginning of book), and gun violence). The protagonist is flawed and gets to grow over the course of the book, and find her own place, and learn from the people around her, while they also learn to understand her and where she’s coming from. It’s got a gritty, harsh, and important portrayal of found family, messy queerness, and some breathtaking quotes. When I was 82% through this book I posted this update: “This book has addressed almost all of my initial hesitations, and managed to complicate itself beautifully.”

Anger is a Gift by Mark Oshiro.  I wasn’t actually in the best mental health place to read this book when I did (didn’t quite understand what it was) but it definitely reminded me of what there is to fight against and to fight for, and broke my heart, and nudged me a bit closer to hope. The naturally diverse cast of characters was one of the best parts of this book. The romance is so sweet and tender and then so painful. This book is important and well-written but read it with caution and trigger warnings - it’s about grief and trauma and racism and police brutality, but also about love and community.

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden.  This is a sci-fi/fantasy/specfic mashup that takes place in near-future South Africa and has world-building myths with gods and demigoddesses and a trip to the world of the dead but also a genetically altered hallucinogenic drug that turns people into giant animals and a robot uprising and a political campaign and a transgender pop star and a m/m couple and all of them are connected. It’s bonkers. Like, so, so absolutely mind-breaking weird. And I loved it.

Crier’s War and Iron Heart by Nina Varela.  I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVED the amount of folktales they told each other with queer romances as integral to those stories, especially in Iron Heart. A conversation between the two leads where Crier says she wants to read Ayla like a book, and Ayla says she’s not a book, and Crier explains all the different ways she wants to know Ayla, like a person, and wants to deserve to know her like a person, made me weak. It lives in my head rent-free.

Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston @ekjohnston . I listened to this book on Libby and then immediately listened to it at least one more time, maybe twice, before my borrow time ran out. I love Padmé, and just always wish that female Star Wars characters got more focus and attention and this book gave me that!! And queer handmaidens! And the implication that Sabé is in love with Padmé and that’s just something that will always be true and she will always be devoted and also will make her own life anyway. And the Star Wars audiobooks being recorded the way they are with background sounds and music means it feels like watching a really long detailed beautiful Star Wars movie just about Padmé and her handmaidens.

Sissy: A Coming of Gender Story by Jacob Tobia. I needed to read this. The way Tobia talks about their experience of gender within the contexts of college, college leadership, and career, hit home. I kept trying to highlight several pages in a row on my kindle so I could go back and read them after it got returned to the library (sadly it didn’t work - it cuts off highlights after a certain number of characters). The way they talk about TOKENISM they way they talk about the responsibilities of the interviewer when an interviewee holds marginalized identities especially when no one else in the room does!!! Ahhhh!!!

Bonds of Brass by Emily Skrutskie. Disclaimer for this one that the author was rightfully criticized for writing a Black main character as a white author (and how the story ended up playing into some fucked up stuff that I can’t really unpack without spoiling). But also, the author has been working to move forward knowing she can’t change the past, has donated her proceeds, and this book is really good? It has all the fanfic tropes, so much delicious tension, a totally unexpected plot twist that had me immediately rereading the book. This book was super fun and also kind of just really really good Star Wars fanfiction.

How To Be a Normal Person by T.J. Klune. This book was so sweet, and cute, and hopeful, and both ridiculous and so real. I had some trouble getting used to Gus’ voice and internal monologue, but I got into it and then loved every bit after. The ace rep is something I’ve never seen like this before (and have barely read any ace books but still this was so fleshed out and well rounded and not just like, ‘they’re obsessed with swords not sex’ - looking at you, Once & Future - and leaving it there.) This all felt like a slice of life and I feel like I learned about people while reading it. Some of the moments are so, so funny, some are vaguely devastating. I have been personally victimized by TJ Klune for how he ends this book (a joke, you will know once you read it) but it also reminds me of the end of the “You Are There” episode of Xena and we all know what the answer to that question was.... and I choose to believe the answer here was similar.

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson. I wish I had this book when I was in high school. I honestly have complicated feelings about prom and haven’t really been seeking out contemporary YA so I was hesitant to read this but it was so good and so well-written, and had a lot of depth to it. The movie (and Broadway show) “The Prom” wants what this book has.

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. I never read horror books, so this was a new thing for me. I loved the feeling of this book, the way I felt fully immersed. I loved how entirely queer it was. I was interested in the characters and the relationships, even though we didn’t have a full chance to go super deep into any one person but rather saw the connections between everyone and the way the stories matched up with each other. I just wanted a bit of a more satisfying ending.

Honorable Mention: reread in 2020 but read for the first time pre-2020

Red White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. I couldn’t make this post without mentioning this book. It got me through this year. I love this book so much; I think of this book all the time. This book made me want to find love for myself. You’ve all heard about it enough but if you haven’t read this book what are you DOING.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan @sarahreesbrennan​ . I reread this one over and over too, both as text and as an audiobook. I went for walks when I had lost my earbuds and had Elliott screaming about an elf brothel loudly playing and got weird looks from someone walking their dog. I love this book so much. It’s just so fun, and so healing to read a book reminiscent of all the fantasies I read as a kid, but with a bi main character and a deconstruction of patriarchy and making fun of the genre a bit. Also, idiots to lovers is a great trope and it’s definitely in this book.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. This book is forever so important to me. I am always drawn in by how tenderly Sáenz portrays his characters. These boys. These boys and their parents. I love them. I love them so much. This is another one where I don’t even know what to say. I have more than 30 pages in my tag for this book. I have “arda” set as a keyboard shortcut on my phone and laptop to turn into the full title. This book saved my life.

Last Night I Sang to the Monster by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. This book hurts to read - it’s a story about trauma, about working through that trauma, healing enough to be ready to hold the worst memories, healing enough to move through the pain and start to make a life. It’s about found family and love and pain and I love it. It’s cathartic. And it’s a little bit quietly queer in a beautiful way, but that’s not the focus. Look up trigger warnings (they kind of are spoilery so I won’t say them here but if you have the potential to be triggered please look them up or ask me before reading)

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine.  When asked what my all time favorite book is, it’s usually this one. Gail Carson Levine has been doing live readings at 11am since the beginning of the pandemic shut down in the US, and the first book she read was Ella Enchanted. I’ve been slowly reading it to @mssarahpearl and am just so glad still that it has the ability to draw me in and calm me down and feels like home after all this time. This book is about agency. I love it.

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman @chronicintrovert . I’ve had this on my all-time-faves list since I read it a few years ago and ended up rereading it this year before sending a gift copy to a friend, so I could write little notes in it. It felt a little different reading it this time - as I get further away from being a teenager myself, the character voice this book is written in takes a little longer to get used to, but it’s so authentic and earnest and I love it. I absolutely adore this book about platonic love and found family and fandom and mental illness and abuse and ace identity and queerness and self-determination, especially around college and career choices. Ahhh. Thank you Alice Oseman!!!

Leia: Princess of Alderaan by Claudia Gray @claudiagray​ . I have this one on audible and reread it several times this year. I love the fleshing out of Leia’s story before the original trilogy, I love her having had a relationship before Han, and the way it would have affected her perspective. I also am intrigued by the way it analyses the choices the early rebellion had to make... I just, I love all the female focused new Star Wars content and the complexity being brought to the rebellion.

[morgansdeb]

My thoughts on 13RW Season 4 (SPOILERS)

So I originally wasn’t going to write a review, because if I’m completely honest, I’m still in shock by that finale... but here we go...

Overall, I enjoyed this season a lot more than season 3. This time, we didn’t have Ani’s annoying narration, that weird crap that was Bryce/Ani and that Bryce “redemption” bullshit that the writers shoved down our throats last season, so kudos for that. Too bad the ending fucked everything up.

Now, let’s go character by character:

Jessica: Jessica has always been my favorite character (besides Hannah), so I was really disappointed by her arc this season... if we can call it that. Her reaction to Justin breaking up with her was really immature. I understand that she was hurt, but Justin was right, he wasn’t in a position to be in a relationship and needed to focus on his recovery, so for Jessica to go after the first guy she could find (Diego) to get back at him... it was shitty. Also, what the hell, Jessica? Diego spent the whole season tormenting Clay and defending Tyler’s rapist. Aren’t Clay and Tyler your friends? Why are you sleeping with someone who is messing with people you claim to care about? And please don’t say it’s for “information”, because you clearly liked him, even tho he was an asshole. Once again, the writers made Jessica’s storylines all about boys, first it was Alex and Justin, now it was Justin and Diego. And to give one final “fuck you” to her character, they implied she ended up with Diego. “Ask me in a month”, um, so it’s going to take you a month to get over Justin? Okay, cool.

Clay: I’ve always loved Clay. Always. He’s flawed, he’s stupid, he’s too stubborn... but he cares. I’ll say this tho, he was a complete ASSHOLE towards Justin during that party, and he should have apologized for all those awful things he said, because that shit was NOT okay. I appreciate that he got help, and Dr. Ellman was a fantastic character, but his arc got old real fast. Clay has some fucked up hallucinations, Clay has a breakdown and makes a scene in front of people, Clay claims everything is fine when clearly it’s not. We get it, he thinks he’s Batman and can handle all this shit alone. Well, clearly, he can’t.

Ani: I’ll admit, I actually liked Ani this season. I think it’s because her screentime was reduced (she missed big moments like the camping trip and the shooting drill), and she wasn’t inserting herself in everyone’s business like last season. I appreciate her standing up for her friends against Winston and apologizing to Jessica for sleeping with Bryce, but that NEVER should have happened. It was weird as hell how she kept defending Bryce in s3, insisting he wasn’t a monster (he was a serial rapist who raped your friend, how is that not a monster). Her “explanation” as to why she slept with Bryce was crap. “I was lonely and stupid”, well, aww!! Lots of people are lonely and stupid, but that isn’t an excuse to defend a serial rapist and sleep with him multiple times. And even before she slept with him, she kept hanging out with him, playing poker and laughing like nothing was wrong. Weird as hell. At the end of the day, I still don’t know who Ani is, other than “the girl who liked Bryce and then liked Clay.” I’m 100% grateful that she and Clay broke up, that was never going to work, so I’ll drink to that. It was also annoying how she and Clay took their sweet time to tell the others about Winston. STOP KEEPING SECRETS. I still insist that the writers should have kept Sheri and Ani shouldn’t have existed.

Zach: Seriously, where the hell was Zach’s mom to check on her son? The whole season was basically “oh, look, Zach’s drunk!!” He was a hot mess and all his friends didn’t do shit to help him until the last minute. I know Winston manipulated him, but seriously, telling the enemy that you beat up Bryce?? Not cool, dude. And don’t get me started on that scene where they “implied” he was going to assault that drunk girl. Zach has flaws, sure, but he ISN’T a rapist, and neither is Clay (I’m talking about that weird scene where he hallucinates Bryce encouraging him to assault that girl at the frat house). The writers clearly didn’t give a fuck about Zach. Remember in s2 when he told his mom he had suicidal thoughts?? What happened to that?? I’m glad he came to his senses in the end, but he obviously needed help with his addiction.

Tyler: I felt bad for Tyler because his friends didn’t trust him, but I also sorta get it. He was acting hella shady and I get that the cops told him not to say anything, but... dude, you scared the living hell out of Clay with those guns at the end of s2, how are your friends not going to be suspicious? Like in 13RW fashion, his storyline got dragged for too long, but I think he was right when he called out Clay and Tony about their friendship. I liked his friendship with Estela, that was sweet. But overall Tyler didn’t get that much to do this season. I didn’t like how they made him feel bad about Monty. Monty raped him and belonged in jail, it isn’t Tyler’s fault someone decided to kill him.

Alex: GAY KING. The only character who didn’t annoy me this season (besides Charlie). Bryce and Monty apologists, how are you feeling?? My boy didn’t go to jail like y’all wanted it!! No “justice” for the rapists!! Beautiful, amazing, brilliant. In all seriousness, I wish his crush on Zach had been explained a bit more. I don’t think it came out of nowhere, but it would have been nice to spend more time with it. I don’t know how I feel about the whole thing with Winston, he was a Monty apologist so I didn’t want to see another one of my faves sleeping with a rape apologist, so I’m glad he found out the truth in time. Charlie and Alex were so cute together, I wanted him with Zach, but I can’t bring myself to complain because ALEX GOT A HAPPY ENDING, YAY!! He regretted killing Bryce, but it’s like Zach said “maybe he didn’t deserve to die, but NEITHER DO WE”, and he was right. Alex didn’t deserve to have his whole life ruined over a fucking rapist, so I’m glad he got happiness. I just wish his recovery arc after his suicide attempt had been done better, he’s the only character in the show who is a suicide survivor and they never focused on that. Shame, tbh.

Tony: I don’t have much to say about Tony. He was being hella stubborn about not going to college and staying in town, so I’m glad his dad knocked some sense into him. He got a happy ending and got to see his sister again, so that was nice. Tony always had to deal with so much crap, so I’m happy he ended up happy.

Winston: Now this dude didn’t annoy me as much as I thought he would, but... he was weird. He became obsessed with Monty after meeting him twice, and then obsessed with Alex after dating him for two weeks. What was his reason?? Why did he fall in love so quickly?? I thought we were going to get some backstory to explain his behavior, but we didn’t get shit, except that scene in the first episode with his mom where he seemed like some lonely rich kid. I’m glad he let go of Monty in the end and didn’t ruin Alex’s life, but other than making a bunch of passive-aggressive comments and staring at people, he didn’t do much. The trailer made him seem like some mastermind villain, and in the end... he wasn’t.

Diego: How are you going to spend the whole season calling Clay a psycho/crazy, when you’re out there pulling pranks, beating people up, and defending a rapist?? Check yourself first, Diego. He was so annoying with his “I miss Monty” crap, like how are you going to give a big speech about how great Monty was when Tyler, the guy he raped, was sitting right in front of you??!!  I wish he had faced some consequences for all the shit he did to Clay, like “omg, you brought a knife!!, dude YOU left the knife in there. I’m glad he let things go in the end, but JFC, he was annoying. When Zach told him to suck his dick, I cheered so hard.

Justin: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA... HA. I’m laughing because I don’t wanna start crying again. Are the writers fucking serious?? After EVERYTHING they did with Justin, turning him into a better person, making him Clay’s brother, getting him back together with Jessica, EVERYTHING...and he dies?? And even before his death, they needed to torture him one last time and kill off his mom, have Clay and Jessica treat him like shit, and make him feel like nobody wanted him. Wow, what a brilliant idea. The series finale would have been perfect if they hadn’t killed off Justin. He deserved to graduate and live a long, happy life. I think the writers just wanted to have one final tragedy and controversial storyline, so they did this cruel and unnecessary crap. I’m disgusted, tbh.

Bryce and Monty: I’m so, so happy we got ZERO Bryce flashbacks and ZERO Monty flashbacks. FUCK these two rapists. I didn’t feel sorry for either of them, and I hope future shows do better and the humanizing of rapists stops. We already know rapists are human, they aren’t aliens who come from another planet, but the focus needs to be on the VICTIMS. I know they weren’t going to bring back Katherine Langford and Brandon Larracuente for a 5-second cameo, but hallucination!Justin should have been hanging out with Hannah and Jeff, not Bryce. Bryce wasn’t Justin’s brother, he treated him like shit and raped his girlfriend, and the whole “it’s okay to love people who do bad shit” is bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with hating rapists/abusers and bad people in general (like racists, homophobes, etc). Well, at least the two rapists are dead and can never hurt anyone again.

Say whatever you want about Hannah Baker, but this show suffered a HUGE loss when Katherine walked out of that door during her final scene.

They should have sent Bryce’s ass to jail at the end of s2, and the last two seasons should have been about ALL the character’s recoveries, with everyone getting proper characterization, good storylines, and focus on the friendships and family dynamics. The murder mystery and cover-up stuff ended up being really stupid and pointless. The writers prioritized shock value over proper storytelling, and that’s a shame because the cast is really talented, and the characters had the potential to be better than what they actually were.

Goodbye, 13 Reasons Why. I’ll check out the cast’s future projects, but the writers/producers can GTFO.

[theasstour]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓥𝓮𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓫𝔂 𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓸 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲

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

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

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

Sunday, 1 March 2020

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

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

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

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

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

“What?!”

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

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

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

“Do you even care?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

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

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

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

“That men find you attractive?”

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

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

“What, Y/N?”

“You just sound like a bellend.”

“How?”

Y/N gave her a look.

“How?!”

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

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

“Got what?”

Portia sighed. “Got nice arms.”

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

“I know it’s not all about looks.”

“It really is not.”

“But I still can’t help myself.”

“You’re such a prick.”

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

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

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

“Cheers.”

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

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

Portia rolled her eyes.

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

Portia crossed her arms, looking ahead.

“So boring.”

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

“Shouldn’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,” she said. “We have to go.”

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

Portia glanced at her as if she was insane.

“What?”

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

“Portia, this is a bad idea.”

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,”

“What?”

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

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

“Eight.” Y/N answered.

“And how many-“

“-Eight.”

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

“Why the fuck has he done that, Y/N?”

Y/N shook her head. “Dunno.-“

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

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

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

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

“It’s so painfully obvious, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

“-You can just call me Y/N.”

“You need to stand far away.”

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

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

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

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

“Won’t that smear the paint everywhere?”

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

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

“It’s dry.”

She frowned back at him. “Already?”

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

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

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

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Do you see that rock over there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Sit there facing me.”

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

“That could literally ruin my eyes.”

“Art goes beyond comfort.”

“I want to be able to see said art.”

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

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

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

Harry didn’t respond.

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

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

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

Harry huffed.

“What?”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry wasted no time. “Swing bar.”

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

“Explains the arms.”

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

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

She rolled her eyes. “I have not.”

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

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

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

“I’ll get it later.”

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

“What if someone steals your painting?”

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

“Don’t worry about it.”

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

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

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

“What?”

“A cat.”

“A live one?”

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

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

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

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

“Dunno.” Y/N sighed. “I… dunno.”

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

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

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

“Don’t bend your knee that much.”

Y/N readjusted her knee.

“No.”

“Then how?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will I always be there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At what?”

“You mean you don’t see it?”

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

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

Y/N took a closer look.

“Do you see all the blue?”

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N looked at her sister. “Yes.”

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

“He painted on me.”

“Shut. Up.”

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

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

“Portia!” Y/N hissed. “Leave off.”

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

Y/N only gave her a look.

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

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

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

Y/N frowned.

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

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

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

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

“With each planet, you slowly fade into-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m in London.”

“But I didn’t know you were.”

“But I am.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Harry sighed. “No.”

“Why?”

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

She frowned. “What made you think that?”

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

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

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

“Seemed that way over text.”

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

“A lot!”

Harry groaned. “Y/N, please.”

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

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

“We’re talking.”

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

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

“Uni,” she simply said. “And you?”

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

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

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

“It’s quite the exhibit.”

Harry nodded.

“Almost a little too extra.”

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

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

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

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

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

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

“Which is?”

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

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

“And us some more.”

She let out a small chuckle.

“What?”

“Start then.”

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

“I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

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

“Tortured me to think about you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could you explain it to me?”

He blinked. “Explain it?”

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

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

“I didn’t expect…”

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

She just looked at him, biting her bottom lip.

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

“It took me off guard.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Good.”

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

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

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

“The paintings.”

“It leads to the exhibition.”

“That’s the same thing.”

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

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

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

“Our solar system’s got eight planets-“

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

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

She didn’t know what to say to that.

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

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

“If you don’t-“

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

“Harry, slow down-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’re you in the ocean?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Here you can clearly tell-“

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

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

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

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

She nodded.

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

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

“Harry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N-“

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

He didn’t turn around still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Y/N?”

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

“What?”

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

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

“How I feel for you.”

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

“Just how you feel about me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N’s mouth fell open.

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

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

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

“I said don’t psycho-“

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

She blinked. “For what?”

“You.”

“Me?”

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

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

“That you felt like I did.”

“Exactly.”

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

“Harry-“

“-I love you.”

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

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

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

“I’ll wait for you.”

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

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

Thursday, 10 September 2020

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, the lighting’s amazing.”

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

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

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

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

“Sausage rolls!” Portia exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drake?”

“No.”

“That Felix lad?”

“Not him.”

“Ezra?”

Portia shook her head.

“Jackson-“

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

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

Portia rolled her eyes. “Azeem.”

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

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

“You did? What’d he say?”

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

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

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

“He asked me out on a date.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I do not! Oh, my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Been watching too much Love Island.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Complimenti per la laurea, celeste.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

“But I already am.”

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

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

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

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

“Go, Y/N.”

Saturday, 12 September 2020

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled. “What the fuck, Y/N.”

“What?”

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

“I’m here.”

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

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

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

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

“Big place for a big lad.”

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

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

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

“The puppy?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“A Scottish deerhound.”

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

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

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

“Harry…”

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

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

“Wanna take a look inside?”

She smiled at him. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m in love with you, Harry.”

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

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

Harry smiled. “Smug bastard.”

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

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

“How about you kiss me?”

Harry frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want a gentleman?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shook her head. “It’s fine.”

Harry gripped her thigh, squeezing her.

“You pay for the pill.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My puppy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your bestie, nora x

[soopersara]

Thoughts on post-series (especially TLOK) Katara? Do you agree that she became a shell of the woman she once were? Do you consider it to be misogynistic when people say that on the basis that she "just became a housewife + a sad old woman alone in her hut"?

I'm not sure if you're asking if I think the writers were misogynistic for reducing Katara to a sad widowed housewife or if I think that it's misogynistic to say that Katara's character was reduced when she became a sad widowed housewife. Either way, I'm not in the business of accusing people of bigotry over works of fiction that I find questionable or opinions about fictional works that I find questionable. In the case of creators, I'm not a mind reader—I don't know 100% what the intention behind thing X in story Y was, and I trust that if the creators are shitty, malicious people, it'll shine through in other areas of their lives. Are there certain tropes that make me squint real hard and whisper, "I don't trust where you're going with this" before noping out? Absolutely. But some people, even professional creators, are just... not good at their jobs. And frankly, just the idea of going through my life assuming the worst of everyone who makes me scratch my head and squint is exhausting.

And in the case of Katara's post-canon characterization (because IMO, canon ended when the credits rolled on ATLA), assuming incompetence over malice seems entirely fair. Yes, Bryke are professional creators, but they are visual artists first and foremost. Writing simply isn't where their strengths lie, and the writing is what suffered when the franchise was left entirely in their control post-ATLA.

Full disclosure, I haven't read all of the comics or watched all of LOK because the former infuriated me and the latter bored me to tears, but the biggest problem I saw with both was the fact that the characters' individual wants, needs, and motives vanished after the end of ATLA. Except for Aang's. His inner life stayed intact because he was The Protagonist™️, and everyone else flattened out because it's difficult to hit the plot beats you want if you give multiple characters autonomy. I can sympathize. Writing is a pain in the ass, and writing character-driven stories well is a bigger pain in the ass.

But...

The original series was led by a writing team who knew how to wrangle multiple characters with autonomous personalities and motivations and storylines. The writing team knew how to do the delicate finagling to steer things back on track without compromising the integrity of the characters when they veered a little sideways, and they were aware that sometimes it's not possible to get back on track if the characters are leading an entirely different direction. And that's the brilliance of the show—for the most part, you can get into the head of each character and track him/her through the whole series and see exactly why they were motivated to make each and every choice (there are a few big puzzlers in Book 3, but let's not get into that right now or we'll be here for a year).

So when you go from the original show, which had a whole team of people who specialized in writing, to the comics or LOK, helmed by Bryke, who specialized in visuals, the difference is jarring to say the least. Suddenly we go from a cast of complex characters with their own inner lives that strongly influence how they act/interact, down to... well, Aang, and flattened versions of the rest of the cast who exist to either agree with and support Aang or to disagree with Aang and later be proved wrong because The Protagonist Is Always Right™️. Never mind the fact that a lot of that directly contradicts the characterization established in ATLA. Never mind the fact that the base premises of some of the post-canon stories are ludicrous by the show's own standards. None of that matters. Zuko is going to take advice from his genocidal maniac of a father after he firmly rejected him and his beliefs because none of the people who love Zuko care enough to check in on him from time to time. Aang is going to agree to kill one of his closest friends when he wouldn't even consider offing the aforementioned genocidal maniac because... he promised to, I guess. And nobody else is going to see a problem with ANY of this because they no longer care about... um... anything that mattered to them previously. Because they're all been lobotomized, apparently. We as the audience are supposed to like and accept all of that solely because it's Dramatic and Unexpected. We're not supposed to care that the characters we got to know over the course of 61 episodes would fucking never do that. Because the plot is more important than the characters, and Aang is the only character whose motives matter now anyway.

And all of that is a very long way of getting around to the point that, as far as I can tell, Katara's reduction from a fiery, impassioned, irrepressible warrior to a sad, ineffectual, lonely widow is more a result of Bryke not knowing how to write a character-driven story and therefore butchering all of their characters aside from Aang in the post-canon material than it is a result of misogyny. Misogynistic undertones? Since Katara was more visibly affected by this inability to write a natural character progression than anyone else, it sure feels that way. But I hesitate to call Bryke misogynistic for the way her character turned out when I know for a fact that writing is not their area of expertise. If I'm looking at some of the attitudes they've expressed outside of the show, I'm less forgiving. Never attribute to malice what you can attribute to incompetence, I guess.

And if you weren't looking for a long ramble about the writing of the show vs the writing of the post-canon material and you actually wanted my opinion on the idea that Katara's character was reduced by becoming a sad widowed housewife... then no. I don't think it's misogynistic to say that. Listen, there is nothing wrong with being a housewife. Living according to gender expectations isn't wrong if that's the life you want. There is, however, something very wrong with a girl who was actively angry about being shoved into those gender roles being forced to accept them later in life without any explanation. Someone who fought (quite literally) for the right to not be "just" a housewife or "just" a healer can't turn up a few decades later as a housewife and a healer with next to no other accomplishments to her name if she didn't have a compelling reason to go back and choose the path she previously rejected. This is fiction. Things don't happen by accident. And when things happen without reason, that's just bad writing.

[lanonima]

This ended up being slightly later than intended but anyway, my review for Nan Chan:

Romantic - Fucky is not how risque a work is but rather my opinion of the attitude/quality of the main relationship, the way the characters interact with respect to one another. I like a lot of stuff in fiction but if you’re easily made uncomfortable, stay towards the top half.

Easy reading - Plot-heavy is how I personally consider the plot’s intricacy and successful implementation, regardless of the author’s intention.

Nan Chan

Author: Tang Jiuqing

Quality: 8

Enjoyment: 6

Comments: This one is kind of weird because it's definitely competent, it's well-written and has a fairly in-depth plot, but I just didn't really enjoy it all that much? I never got emotionally attached to any of the characters, and I didn't even really get the relationship buildup. I understand what the author is going for with it of course, but it didn't necessarily make a lot of sense… Or rather it seems like some bits in the middle were just missing, there's good buildup in the beginning and in the end but how they got from point A to point B was kind of not explored to my satisfaction. I did really like the flashback to the past, I thought that storyline was all pretty interesting. The big bad was kind of disappointing to me as well though. In general, I think this is a really good book with a lot of skill behind it but it's just not really my thing.

Would I read it again: No.

The reviews of things I previously read are below the cut.

Mo Dao Zu Shi

Author: MXTX

Quality: 9.5

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I have a huge emotional connection to this novel. There are some weak parts, the tension isn’t quite even, she’s pretty terrible at erotic scenes and not great at fight scenes…but that being said, I love the characters and some of the plot points really ripped my heart out. This is a novel that’s really driven by the characters so if you’re a character-focused person like me, definitely look into it (as if we all don’t already know it lmao). I really, really love this story. Every single adaptation of it has also been great, but the novel is still my favorite. It was my introduction to xianxia novels too, so you can say it changed my life!

Would I read it again: I’ve already read it twice, and consumed every adaptation (sometimes also multiple times)

Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Author: MXTX

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 5

Comments: I’m not much of one for comedy and, as I discovered, not really into system novels either. Clearly weaker than MXTX’s later work, many of the characters are somewhat bland, she hasn’t quite found her groove yet. It’s not my style but the fandom is hilarious and the fans constantly produce content that I actually do find entertaining so overall I still have some fond feelings for this one, even if not for the source material.

Would I read it again: I found a different translation and am willing to try again in the future, I’m also willing to watch the donghua. But I can’t guarantee I’ll like it any more than previously.

Tian Guan Ci Fu

Author: MXTX

Quality: 10

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I love this book…but not as much as I love Mo Dao Zu Shi. I think the plot is somewhat typical, however the characters are great once again (though maybe slightly less deep than MDZS), and her use of thematic repetition and foreshadowing are killer. Actually, I liked this book more the second time around because it just hits differently. Definitely the best of MXTX’s couples, they are so soft and sweet. Very long, but worth it.

Would I read it again: I already have, was personally translating the manhua before I hurt my arms, and am eagerly awaiting the donghua this fall!

The Villain’s White Lotus Halo

Author: A Big Roll of Toilet Paper

Quality: 10

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: Fuck, I love this one so much…..even though it’s also a system novel. But that part is in it so rarely that it reads more like pure fantasy. I love the characters, I love the plot, I love the way the relationship is developing. Oh yeah, the translation isn’t even complete but I already purchased not only the original from JJWXC but also the print edition. I’ve even drawn fanart for it, which is so unlike me. Every time a chapter comes out, I’m ruined for the rest of the day, I can’t think about anything else. Good fight scenes, which is uncommon. My favorite danmei novel so far.

Would I read it again: I fully intend to once the translation is complete, and also plan to read it in Chinese later (I’ve already read certain parts in Chinese hahaha but not the whole thing)

2Ha (Husky and his White Cat Shizun)

Author: Meatbun Doesn’t Eat Meat

Quality: 8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: 2Ha is not for the faint of heart, it’s very horny, and violent, and has a lot of questionable content. However I love it so much. The story and characters are great, Meatbun really has me by the heart. The writing is a little more on the casual side but it hardly matters because the story is so great. Good fight scenes. Chu Wanning is like, the ultimate Me™ character, I hate how much I adore him. If you read this, just go into it knowing that it’s a long emotional journey, the characters are very dynamic and there’s a lot of character development.

Would I read it again: Same as the above, I plan a reread when the translation is done and have read parts in Chinese and might read the whole thing again later. Cautiously eager about the up-coming live action and donghua.

Di Wang Gong Lue

Author: Yu Xiao Lanshan

Quality: 2

Enjoyment: 9

Comments: This is one of the most terribly written things I’ve ever read, but I’m a character girl and the characters and ways they interact fucking kill me. I’m constantly entertained….although I don’t think this is actually supposed to be a comedy. If I were going to treat myself and like, take a bubble bath and read something that made me laugh, this is exactly the sort of trashy romance I would want to read. Technically a political intrigue story but it’s so abrupt and full of holes, are any of us reading it for the actual plot? The donghua is on Youtube, I watched it first and recommend others to do the same. If you can handle that, you can handle the book because it’s exactly the same in quality, just gayer. I do love the main couple a lot, the set-up surrounding the relationship is great, and the side characters are also really fun.

Would I read it again: Probably not, but I’m still having fun with it. I watched the donghua and read a bit of the manhua as well, which has very cute art and is probably my favorite version of the story.

Liu Yao

Author: Priest

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 7.5

Comments: I really struggled getting into this one, it took me about 25 chapters to get invested. Initially I had rated it a 6 in enjoyment but after careful thought, I realized that even though it was so hard for me, it probably is my favorite Priest novel and I really do love the main couple so much. Her side characters also seem to be slightly stronger than usual in this one. Decent plot, not too much or too little. It seems really chill to me, doesn’t provoke much of an emotional reaction but I do think it’s very sweet, which is nice sometimes too.

Would I read it again: No, but I think (?) it’s supposed to get some kind of tv adaptation (drama or donghua, not sure), and if that happens, I’ll watch it.

Didn’t Know the General was Female

Author: Rong Qing

Quality: 4

Enjoyment: 6

Comments: Not the greatest thing I’ve ever read, but cute. It’s short, and a little lesbian fluff is never a bad thing. Writing is a bit weak and the plot is basic, but the characters are enjoyable and I liked it overall.

Would I read it again: No.

Wrong Way to a Demon Sect Leader

Author: Yi Zhi Dayan

Quality: 4

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: Again, not the greatest in writing or plot, it’s a bit shallow. But I found the idea of it to be entertaining, and actually liked it more than I would have assumed. It’s fairly short and cute, like a good summer beach read.

Would I read it again: Probably not, but possibly, if the stars align.

Female General and Eldest Princess

Author: Please Don’t Laugh

Quality: 7

Enjoyment: 6

Comments: A very good first effort, but the writing is a bit weak. It’s slow to start and I don’t think the political plotline is spectacularly strong. Some things were left unexplained, and her sense of battle tactics and fight-writing were very confusing, definitely room for improvement. I don’t think it’s as good as people say, but she writes with the air of someone who will continue to improve. And also, a lesbian author writing lesbian stories so that’s a plus. Overall I enjoyed the experience, this story is definitely worth a read.

Would I read it again: Maybe, but probably not.

Sha Po Lang

Author: Priest

Quality: 7

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: Originally I rated this one higher, but on later thought I realized that I actually enjoyed Liu Yao more. I personally have issues with the way Priest writes, and this book showed a lot of them. Characters were okay, I did like the main couple, but side characters were weak as usual. The plot is pretty good, though not great, and I think some of the pacing is off. Some descriptions were confusing, but that could be a translation issue. Overall, still a pretty good political drama, but I would say that of the three I read, this was the Priest novel with the least impact on me.

Would I read it again: No. But I will watch the live action if it ever gets made.

Guardian

Author: Priest

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 5

Comments: I love Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan, thought the plot was interesting, and there were some enjoyable moments. But it has all the problems I usually have with Priest in addition to some choices that offend me as a queer reader. I spent about 75% of the time reading while pissed off. And actually the fact that it had a happy ending kinda bummed me out because I love a good tragedy. Overall, I can only give it an average score. If you like Priest, you’ll like this one too. I’m not a tv person but I binged the hell out of the live action, I really loved it, so I was sort of disappointed that the source material didn’t seem as strong as I had assumed.

Would I read it again: No, but I will happily watch the live action again some day.

Jing Wei Qing Shang

Author: Please Don’t Laugh

Quality: 9.8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I have to start off by saying: damn girl. The improvement evident in this book is absolutely insane. A few minor issues prevent me from giving it a 10 out of 10 – her transitions are still extremely abrupt, the ending is slightly weak and some plot points remain unresolved, and her use of narrative repetition is too heavy-handed for my taste. Other than that, this book leaves me almost speechless. Very similar to Female General and Eldest Princess, there are many similar themes and events. But while I thought FGEP was fairly cute, I like this one way better. If you like angst, political intrigue, and lesbians, you should definitely read this book. I have no doubt that Please Don’t Laugh will continue to improve in the future, and I really look forward to following her career.

Would I read it again: 100%, I absolutely intend to read this again sometime in the future. It’s very long and very dense but delightful and ultimately worth it.

Fox Demon Cultivation Manual

Author: Feng Ge Qie Xing

Quality: 8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: This was a delightful romp. I had expected it to be somewhat silly and was pleasantly surprised. It was heavy enough to be engaging but light enough to be an easy read, with multiple spots that made me literally laugh out loud which does not happen often. This is apparently just one book in a series of same universe novels, and a lighter-hearted one at that. I would be interested to read the others because I found the world pretty engaging, and I do want to know what became of the other characters. Overall I found it very fun and very cute, I read it in four days so that says something. On the downside, the link for chapter 9 is broken. But skipping a chapter doesn’t seem to have affected the experience of the novel as a whole.

Would I read it again: Yeah I think I would be willing to read this again someday. If it gets adapted I would also consume adaptations, in addition to being interested in the other connected works.

Golden Stage

Author: Cang Wu Bin Bai

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: This one has some Sha Po Lang vibes, but the characters have more depth and chemistry. The word ‘more’ here is extremely relative because it’s still pretty shallow. I honestly liked them both, I liked the relationship and the psuedo-rude way that they flirt entertained me. As for the plot…ehhhh. It tried. There were things that worked, but in general the plot seemed disjointed from the characters and there were a few things that had no business being there and just muddied the waters. It’s not bad necessarily, it’s just not very smooth. There are better political intrigues to read if that’s what you want. But if you just want some sugar-sweet fluff with a backdrop of drama, then this one is perfect. My favorite scene was probably the flashback to the first few times they met, absolutely fantastic.

Would I read it again: Nah.

[jetaime-jespere]

you posted something yesterday about wsne and it prompted me to go back and reread some of it and DAMN i just wanted to say how brilliant that story was and how i’m still utterly obsessed months after it was finished. now i’m just wanna recap some of the most incredible moments of that story.

first of all when they are younger how aaron comforts emily and helps her sleep. when he comes over and comforts her after her nightmare i swear my heart was stolen.

second i love how you wrote them apart. i never thought i would have liked emily and ian but somehow ian making emily feel loved again was healing??? most fics where emily and aaron get separated i get really bored but you kept their stories intertwined in a way that was utterly captivating.

third the baby. when they get back together and emily is having a hard time after helping jody (in chapter 41 i think??) aaron trying to understand what she went through made me so upset but yet it was so healing that they actually discussed it. i truly love how you tied this together so well and brought it up in their later relationship.

fourth (god this is getting long) the mother fucking letter. that shit got me. i swear it felt like a fever dream when she wrote the letter to aaron right before she met ian, but GOD bringing that letter back for aaron to read destroyed me in an inhumanly manner. to be honest i’m still not over it. “I didn’t know it at the time, but you were my heart’s match. I threw it all away because it felt so wrong, like I didn’t deserve any of it. I’ve spent every day of my life regretting that choice” UGHHHH i cried so hard during this chapter i was literally gasping for air.

last but certainly not least the last chapter. the wedding. emily and allison made my heart actually melt. and then seeing tom again and aaron protecting emily once again. i literally had no words. and then the way emily realized she was pregnant was literally deja vu from when she went to lunch with allison and she found out she was pregnant the first time. OH MY GOD.

overall this story still has me awestruck (if you can’t clearly tell) but it’s just so brilliantly written in how you wove the past with the future and brought back so many memories that even the readers might have forgotten if it wasn’t mentioned again. i just thought i’d give you a little shout out for all the specific moments that make this story so beautifully complex and all the intricacies that make you a phenomenal writer. sorry this is so long but i feel it needs to be said. anyways i love your work and i hope you have a nice night (or day haha)

Hi ♥️🥺 I have to say, I read this multiple times and got a little teary each time I did. This absolutely was something I needed to read today, and I really, really appreciate you sharing all of this. You touched on so many of my personal favorite parts to write - Aaron coming to Emily during her nightmare? That was planned from the beginning and one of my favorite chapters. The Doyle storyline is probably what I'm most proud of from WSNE- I almost quit writing it then because at first I had no idea how to do it but it was so much fun to do. THE LETTER. Oh, I loved bringing that back. I think I laughed maniacally at one point because I was like ... wow this is sad but it needs to stay. My gosh - I wish I could thank you personally because this was one of those messages that I will always remember. All those little callbacks were planned and I'm so glad you noticed them - you are a wonderful reader. WSNE continues to be one of the things I'm most proud of in my life - definitely not what I ever considered it would be, and I'm so happy you enjoyed it so much. Thank you for this - from the bottom of my heart! 💓