#it was the Show that shaped my childhood on a major level

[dellinah]

A random (and spoiler free) review of The Bad Guys (2022)

(By a South American that got to see it early)

Living in this hellhole apparently has a few positive sides to it, and one of them is that we get furry movies sooner (as the same happened with Zootopia, for some reason)

And since The bad guys came out today around here, of course I dropped everything to go check it out. Bc who cares about the things I need to do when there's a new furry movie in town. Heck yeah

So...

It's pretty fun, actually. I enjoyed it a lot. More than I thought I would. 7/10.

Keep in mind I might be biased (as is everyone) bc not only it's a furry movie (and I am a shameless furry) but I am also a major Dreamworks fan. Dreamworks movies shaped my childhood even more so than Disney, and I have the fondest memories with a lot of them. So a part of me already liked the movie before watching it, bc it'd been a while since we got a Dreamworks original, and the last time I was actually excited over a release from them was How to train your dragon 3 a few years ago. So yeah, just knowing that this was a Dreamworks original that seemed good and had potential got me hyped!

The thing about Dreamworks that makes them great to me is how they will grab seemingly silly concepts and do them with heart. Kung Fu Panda (esp 1 and 2) and HTTYD (1-3) are comedy movies with crazy premises that end up having incredible characters and story arcs in the end. Same with Shrek. And I love that. I love how a movie about a panda played by Jack Black can be so mature, I love how a boy and a dragon can have such a beautiful relationship, how an ugly ogre can end up being a great tale of true love, how puss in boots suddenly has a mom he doesnt want to let down. That's what they do best, and I love them for it

So where does The Bad Guys fall in that concept and how does it hold up against Dreamworks' greatests?

Well, let me start by what they did right:

THEY DIDN'T TELL EVERYTHING IN THE TRAILERS!!

I think everyone who has seen the trailers has an idea of what the plot is going to be like. But unlike most of the trailers for movies today, TBG's trailers actually don't show all of the story and a great part of it was kept a surprise. So whatever the story you thought of is, let me tell you: there's a bit more to it and it's not played as straight forward as I thought it would. There's a few twists that I didn't see coming and I didn't always know where it was going. It's still somewhat predictable, but you'll be surprised more often than not. That was SUCH a relief

Another thing:

They get the obvious twists out of the way fast

The writers knew which parts of the story would be the most predictable and instead of pretending not to know and treat their audience like dumbasses, it was pretty self aware of its sillyness. So anything too predictable happened in the beginning, or as soon as possible, instead or them waiting till the third act for the obvious twist like nobody had seen it coming. I applaud them for that, honestly. I dont think a story being a bit predictable is bad, but acting like it's a super secret major twist instead is pretty annoying and condescending. So congradz on that

Its fast pace and the animation

Not much to say, it's really good. The animation is cartoony, they move in a very fun way, not always realistic but never being uncanny either. I LOVE the animation, the fur texture, the EXPRESSIONS. The movie is so expressive. Yet they know the scenes that need a slower, quieter tone. Which is good, because...

The movie actually has a few heartfelt scenes that I really liked

Now, this is not HTTYD or Kung Fu Panda levels of heartfelt. But there are a few scenes and concepts that work really well and are really nicely done. Sometimes it's just a character sitting down in silence, and I like that. I like that they don't try to be overdramatic and just let quiet moments be quiet

And... *sigh*. My friends are gonna call me out for this, but I SWEAR I dont mean it only in a furry way. But:

The wolf is easily the best part of the movie, and that is both good and bad (like him)

Mr. Wolf is a fun character. He's layered and he has internal conflicts, and has a personality that works with the other characters. He is the main character of the movie, and you can tell people put a lot of love and care into him and building him up throughout the movie. Honestly, I love him a lot

Unfortunately, this gets me to what I didn't like about the movie

Many of the main characters don't really feel like they got much of a personality other than being Mr Wolf's friends. Especially where conflict was involved, I get the feeling that a lot of what they did was more "we're doing this bc the plot demands we do it" instead of "we're doing this bc we have reflected on it and this is how we feel"

Following that pattern, a few of the themes the movie brings up are a bit surface level as well. While having a solid storyline and pacing, it feels like it never goes deep into the smaller conflicts and concepts it brings up. It's like a more surface level Zootopia. I think it does lack little touches in dialog/world building that would give it that special Dreamworks touch. So while still being a silly premise with a bit of a deeper meaning like Kung Fu Panda, I think it fails to analyze the complexity of some of the things it brings up so that it could explore it fully. Such as the whole "I'm a big bad wolf, and that's all everyone will ever see me as" from the trailer. I wish it was a bit more explored, but for what it was, it still got into it well enough. It's a bit difficult to explain without spoiling it all, but yeah. I feel like it could have gone deeper than it did, but it's not flat either. Somewhere in between

Overall, it's a very fun movie with a solid storyline and small conflicts that I think have a great lesson behind them. While I wish it did a bit more than what it did and it didn't explore the premise as well as other Dreamwork movies did, it's still heartfelt. I enjoyed it a ton, and I will watch it again for sure. Not sure how useful this was, but I have thoughts and will share them

One last thing, THE MOVIE ADDS LITTLE ANIMAL TOUCHES TO THE CHARACTERS AND I LOVE THAT. Growling, tail wagging, ear scratching, molting, etc. Any anthro media that does that has points with me, bc I love it. So yes, shameless bias, shameless furry, I love wolf tails and teeth.

[tumblingxelian]

While this probably means nothing to you, I can't help but think about the perception of RWBY, not just in itself, but what it says about how other people view media in general. A lot of people just only tend to look at the surface level, and what's sticking out to me is how much this not only applies to stories that are perceived as mixed or bad because they demand more effort to understand, but also applies to shows that are considered good.

Take Ed Edd n Eddy, one of my favorites from my childhood (and an inspiration for my logo). It's considered to be one of the funniest slapstick comedy cartoons of its era. Yet that's more often than not all it's really considered: A funny slapstick.

I've tried checking up online for anything more in-depth about the series on YouTube, but that's the primary focus; how funny it was, how great the jokes are...

but there's nothing much else.

There isn't really much if any insightful videos on the underlying themes of childhood trauma and abuse and how it shaped the behavior of characters like the Eds, how each of the characters have little nuances and behavioral traits that give them more depth than you'd expect for their archetypes.

Like Kevin being the big shot bully and neighborhood cool kid and jerkass, but it's revealed several times that this is more of a facade that crumbles if he faces something that he has no real control over, and how much his behavior worsens and his facade weakens as the Eds' antics wear him down over the course of the series, eventually causing him to make terrible mistakes that basically alienates him from Nazz, who essentially acted in many ways as a parallel to Double D.

Or how Double D, for all of his genuinely upstanding behavior, is also an enabler who basically keeps on allowing Eddy to be the way he is out of him lacking anyone else he can connect with outside of his fellow Eds, and his own internal desire for freedom from his restrictive and distant parents constantly at battle with his obedience and reverence of authority. Or everything about Eddy's complicated relationship with his brother and family, and how he acts out and steadily damages his friendship with his fellow Eds in his desperation to emulate a sibling that ultimately never really deserved the adulation.

There's so much more that could be unpacked, and yet there's barely anyone who talks about such things, only about how funny the series was, how the series was cancelled, with the only serious analysis attempts being aimed at the Big Picture Show and little else. It’s kind of sad in a strange way.

And this also applies to lesser talked about media and mediums/genres like machinima. Outside of Red vs Blue, the large majority of machinima is essentially treated as disposable content or light fluff entertainment. The number of people who try to make any sort of attempt to give them the same kind of analysis and review treatment as the more mainstream entertainment I can count on one hand.

Yeah on the one hand, I understand that machinima content is rarely on par with mainstream media, and the quality is variable, it can be dated by poorly aged jokes, cultural references and such, and the numerous styles and types of machinima means that it can be hard to really evaluate them with any kind of consistent standard. But on the other hand, it just kinda bothers me for some reason just how they get treated as just... the thing that only exists to entertain them, but nothing else.

It’s hard to explain, but I guess my point is that it strikes me how much for all that society claims to value creative endeavors and such, that many people just flat out do not give much if any consideration for things that they've already labeled as shallow entertainment, and even those that are elevated beyond that also run the risk of being pigeonholed into a specific perception, with little insight or value given to thinking about any other aspects outside of it.

Honestly I can't really add anything to this, your post is incredibly insightful and now I wish I'd watched more Ed, Edd and Eddy as a kid XD

I do think you raise a series of excellent points though, how people's perceptions and first impressions can color any efforts to analyze or reflect on the media they interact with.

And how by extension that can also lead to people rejecting media, when it turns out to be more than what they were ready more.

And yeah the general lack of engagement with Machinima and such projects is quite sad, its an emerging/emergent art form but its rarely engaged with outside of novelty.

[basilhearsanoise]

pleaseee elaborate on your homophobic sam take. it’s very compelling. i always thought sam’s early plotline with the demon blood was a queer allegory, but your explanation for his attitude towards dean’s bisexuality makes a lot of sense now that i think about it

WOW I'M A REAL SUPERNATURAL BLOG NOW YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THIS MADE MY DAY I WILL ABSOLUTELY ELABORATE THANK YOU

there are So Many Layers i probably won't even be able to get them all down but here's some major ones. from the get-go, sam is The Opposite of dean on so many issues, and essentially throughout the show they flip. this is most notably demonstrated by the fact that sam starts out as a Devout Christian (or at least we are to assume that he is christian given his approach to prayer, god, angels, etc) and by the end of the show sam is completely and utterly devoid of faith. whereas dean is like If There's A God In Heaven, What's He Waiting For? - Elton John.mp3 in the beginning of the show, and by the end he's like "i have faith in humanity, in spirituality, in CASTIEL, in MY SON JACK," by the end. but this is just one of the MANY issues they flip back and forth on, or just slowly and surely change their perspectives to be more like the way the other brother started.

1. should we tell people there are monsters? dean says "we can't tell anyone they exist the whole world will panic" vs. sam says "they have a RIGHT TO KNOW WHAT'S OUT THERE"

but also. are all monsters evil? dean says "yes, they kill innocent people and they killed my mother and destroyed my life, they ALL deserve to die" but sam says "SOME of them must be good....it's not THEIR FAULT they're disgusting, evil and eat people uwu"

monsters/cryptids/spirits/folklore etc have virtually always been, in some way shape or form, a queer allegory themselves. the shapeshifter arc spoke to me as a trans person on a deep personal level. dracula was essentially racist propaganda. so if we take this allegory to supernatural, and say, "acceptance of monsters = acceptance of queerness" dean's hatred of them is a hatred of himself, his own inner monster, his own internalized homophobia - in addition to the fact that because he IS a queer man who has been VICTIM to REAL VIOLENT homophobia before, it would make sense that he is #antifa #acab #kill all the nazis forever #don't waste time trying to make monsters good when you could save good people from them instead. which is like. a reasonable response to have to a group of people that systematically try to kill you. but that also makes sam's "oh pity the monster dean, don't kill it, FORGIVE, JUST GIVE THEM A CHANCE TO ~ REPENT ~ THEIR SINS" ....like, even in later seasons he is saying stuff like this, and while it's true that dean SHOULD forgive some of the monsters that sam says this about, it still reads to me as two major red flags of 1. forgive your abusers to be the better person and 2. "hate the sin, not the sinner" rhetoric. sam doesn't actually give a shit about any of these monsters he gives a shit about keeping his own ideological purity. he sounds like scary youth pastors i had as a child.

this is further demonstrated by the fact that as dean becomes more accepting of his sexuality as the show goes on, he becomes more accepting of monsters. that's benny's ENTIRE EXISTENCE AS A CHARACTER: "i accept this vampire because he is honorable, and manly, and looks really fuckin cute in suspenders." that's also why sam hates benny so much even though he's the one who's been like "but monsters can be good T__T" this whole time. what the fuck other reason would he have to hate benny so much?

this is also CLEARLY the ENTIRE subtext of the Demon Dean arc - Sam FLIPS OUT about him going off with crowley because he could FORGIVE one little crush on an angel, because of the fact that he's an angel, and also because dean wasn't "shoving his unholy lifestyle down everyone's throats" but demon dean is....loudly, angrily, gay. demon dean is a manifestation of all the gayness that dean has suppressed his whole life and now he's "too indecent" for sam. this is FURTHER demonstrated by the fact that crowley literally yells at dean to "pick a side" after demon dean sides with the slighted wife in a demon deal instead of the cheating husband, literally because of the fact that the husband says "men are just supposed to sleep around" and dean gets so mad about this sexism that he kills him.

this is dean not only rejecting sexism more than sam literally ever actually does in the show (everything he says about it reads to me as idle posturing Fake Woke Shit whereas dean is a sleazebag, but he's an Equal Opportunity sleazebag) but also his rejection of being pigeonholed as gay when he is, indeed, bisexual. crowley represents the biphobia that gay people enact on bi people, sam represents the homophobia that straight people enact on all queer people.

this brings me to the next part of sam's Not Niceness - he's like, actually 100% more misogynistic than dean is. i know i'm Not A Woman but like i am trans, queer, and not dumb. sam is a fucking sadist serial killer man who treats women like garbage the SECOND they are no longer useful to him, this is most clearly demonstrated when he doesn't have a "soul" but it existed in him basically from the get-go, he is painted as the "more emotionally mature one" but that reading became so inaccurate the show literally started making fun of his character for thinking that sappy fake shit could pass as sincere care for another human being. dean actually talks to women like they're people with feelings. he routinely identifies with the victims and is paralleled against them, especially if they are victims of childhood sexual assault. sam does not talk to women unless they serve some kind of purpose to his goals and is much more routinely depicted weirdly enjoying killing enemies that are women. sometimes not even for plot reasons, it's just weird shots that nobody thought to red flag because this show is. A MESS.

anyway. another example is the one that i mentioned in the post about the confederate soldier, the fact that sam is fucking racist and dean is at least, within the narrative, less racist.

ANYWAY, THERE'S STILL MORE I COULD TALK ABOUT BUT I'LL LEAVE IT AT THIS: sam is constantly telling dean that he's not being sensitive or poltically correct but every single time it comes off sounding like a straight person telling an actual gay person how not to be homophobic. like, please, sammy, touch grass. dean says: touch grass, kill nazis.

[batwhimpix]

An Interview with Former Takarazuka Top Star Asumi Rio: The Laidback Personality Behind the Handsome Face

(Translated by me 8/19/2021)

While still a member of the Takarazuka Revue, Asumi Rio was known for her sensitive acting which digs deep into the heart of each role, her crystal-clear vocals, and her captivating stage presence. As the top star of Flower Troupe, she gained an immense level of popularity. Now, it has been one year since her retirement from the company. She has expanded her repertoire from stage to screen, and continues to showcase new sides to her talent. In her first name-bearing variety program, the Hulu Original "Asumi Rio's Atelier," Asumi-san learns new tips and techniques to "step up" both her lifestyle and her design sense. Totally different from her intense onstage aura, this program offers a chance to get to know Asumi-san's soft and relaxed offstage persona.

It's been a year and a half since you left the Takarazuka Revue. How would you describe that period of time for you, Asumi-san?

When I was in the Revue, because I had managed to enter the world of Takarazuka, which was my absolute favorite place, I felt strongly that I didn't want to have any regrets. So I was very motivated to work as hard as I could to polish my craft. I was completely lost in it, but within that, I always had my fans cheering me on, and the guidance of so many around me. In the last year and a half, I've realized all over again just how precious a thing that was.

Until I left, my only experience was on the stage, so stepping into the world on screen for the first time, a lot of totally new forms of expression were expected from me, and I felt a lot of anxiety. Parting from Takarazuka and living as just one individual human, every day is full of challenges. But that said, every day now is also rich with new experiences and new possibilities, so I've come to face that with a lot of gratitude.

While you were in Takarazuka, there was a very clear image, that of a perfect "otokoyaku," to aspire to. Now that you don't have that anymore, what kind of actress are you aiming to become?

There are a lot of qualities I have now precisely because I was an otokoyaku, and I think it's probably okay for me to just embrace that. As top [abbrev. "top star", the starring otokoyaku actress in each troupe], I was in a position where I had to lead the troupe, watch over and guide all the other actresses, and shape each production as the lead actress. I think I've picked up a lot of grit through that experience, and even as a woman, I think having a bit of a masculine edge in your lifestyle and how you deal with things can be a positive, right?

Even when I was playing otokoyaku roles, moreso than aiming for a particular ideal, I came at each role separately, like, this time I'm playing this kind of man, next time I'm playing this kind of man. It was like a gradual broadening of my horizons. Now I'm simply adding female roles to that roster, so it's kind of like the scope of roles available to me has doubled. When it comes to my outward appearance, as my hair grows out and I transition toward a more feminine look, I've been having all kinds of new discoveries, like, "Oh, this kind of styling makes me feel like this." Within my drama roles as well, I like those discoveries like, if I do it like this, won't it be interesting, or if I do this, I can get viewers to say, "Oh!" I want to keep digging to find those little moments where I can really surprise people within each role.

Since your retirement from Takarazuka, what overall on-set experience sticks out the most in your memory?

I think that has to be the first show I had the opportunity to take part in, "Ochoyan" [NHK serialized telenovella]. Until I was on that set, I always thought that the stage was the most incredible place in the world. I would never find anywhere else where every member is so unified in their vision, where everyone has so much pride in their troupe and so much love for the production they're building together, as in Takarazuka. Even now, I still think Takarazuka is a very special place, and my love for it hasn't changed.

But on the set of "Ochoyan," like Takarazuka, there were so many staff working to create this thing, who truly loved the work and brought all kinds of skills to the table to bring it to life. Among the cast as well, the atmosphere during recording, where all of us in the Tsurugame Family Theater [the name of the theater company employing main character Takei Chiyo as well as Asumi-san's character Takamine Ruriko] really did feel like a family, wasn't that different from Takarazuka at all. On the contrary, because our time together was limited just to the recording of this show, it felt like everyone valued that time all the more. Being on a set like that was a huge experience for me.

In Takarazuka, you had a very hectic schedule. As soon as one production closed you were already thinking about the next. I'm sure your lifestyle has changed in a big way since then. What kind of feelings do you have about that?

I retired and moved here to Tokyo right around the start of the pandemic. During the lockdown, when I was in my house all day, I realized how long the day really is. Suddenly it was up to me to decide how to spend all this time in the day. I could use it to rest or, if I had some area I was struggling with, I could use it for training too. I had a renewed realization that depending on my own feelings, I could choose to change myself in any number of ways.

These days, how do you find yourself spending the majority of your time?

These days, I'm doing a lot of types of work I'm totally new to, and working on sets with people I've only just met, so I'm still in a place where I spend a lot of time nervous. When I'm on a set I haven't gotten used to yet, my antenna is going in all different directions, so after I get home I try to relax as much as possible. In order to fully refresh myself and go into work the next day in high spirits and ready to face whatever comes, I've been making a conscious effort to be kind to myself.

What activities allow you to refresh your batteries the most?

Zoning out, and eating delicious food.

On "Asumi Rio's Atelier," you gave steaming rice in a donabe [TN: earthenware pot traditionally used to steam rice, supposedly more delicious than steaming in a rice cooker] a try for the first time, but what kinds of things do you eat most often?

As long as it tastes good, I'll happily eat anything. I like vegetables, meat, fish, and I love carbs, too. Ideally, I want to eat a good balance of a lot of different things.

Speaking of that program, how were the topics for each episode decided? Were you able to make requests?

For "Atelier" we had the general framework that I would be trying different activities I was interested in from the onset, so basically they asked me, "What kind of things are you interested in? What do you want to try?" And then...Yeah, first I had about 30, then we added about 30 more, so in total about 60, ideas that we pitched. The program staff wanted to include as many of my requests as they could, so actually, within each episode there are probably three or four different ones. In addition to that, there's an interview in each episode that relates back to that episode's theme. I enjoyed the chance to reflect on my Takarazuka era and memories from my childhood.

On the topic of your Takarazuka era, in your first interview for us, you said, "I wasn't necessarily aiming to become top star." But within the system of Takarazuka, to climb all the way to top star, you must have been aware of something within yourself that made you want to aim higher?

Let's see...Ever since I was an underclassman, I had a strong drive to improve as an otokoyaku. I wanted people to find my performance interesting, and I wanted to be seen as a necessary part of the production. I wanted to act a lot, and I wanted to sing a lot of songs that I love. I wanted to bathe in the spotlight, and I was happy when I got to wear more gorgeous costumes. If I really think back on those feelings now, first in the shinjinkouen junior performances featuring only actresses who have been with the company seven years or less, and then in performances at the smaller Bow Hall theater next to the Takarazuka Grand Theater, inevitably I started aiming for the lead roles that would allow me to stand on stage for the longest every time.

Somewhere along that road, when I was told I was being transferred from the troupe I was first inducted into, Moon Troupe, to Flower Troupe, this feeling that I had wanted to be the Moon Troupe's successor welled to the surface. And since that's the same as saying, "I wanted to be the top star of Moon Troupe," that was the first time I became aware of that goal. Every troupe in Takarazuka has its own character, though, so after my transfer, I was desperate to hurry up and become an otokoyaku befitting Flower Troupe first...

So as you worked to further your artistic development, there at the zenith was top star.

If you were to ask my underclassman self, the Top-sans are unbelievably incredible performers, and the more shinjinkouens you experience, the more closely you come to understanding just how incredible they are. Then as you spend more years with the company and find yourself in a position where you're working directly under the Top-san, you realize how much work they're really doing, and...The more you know, the more you lose the ability to say something like "I want to be the top star" carelessly.

And yet, you bore the heavy responsibility of a top star for five-and-a-half years. It's hard to imagine from your usual laidback attitude, but when it comes to your art, you're incredibly diligent and strong-willed. That gap is captivating.

When it comes to theater, I'm very picky. I mean, I'm way too stubborn for one thing. Especially in productions where I'm playing the lead role, I always have really strong feelings about how I want to perform things, and I'm not in a position where I can hesitate to convey that. It's important to listen to the opinions of various other people too, but when it comes down to it, if I have a clear idea of the direction I want things to proceed and direct things with that in mind, it makes things easier for everyone else, so I always tried to communicate my thoughts clearly and directly. If I'm delivering consistently good work, there's a persuasive power to that. Not only do the underclassmen naturally follow along, but the staff listen and respond to my requests as well.

But when you're making this kind of production, you do have to be pretty strict. But then, the real me is more of a people pleaser. I want everyone to like me, or more like, I don't want to be disliked. I didn't want the younger underclassmen to feel like I was unapproachable or like they couldn't talk to me because I was the top star. I wanted them to think of me like family. So outside matters relating to work, I tried to give off as relaxed a vibe as possible. Definitely, I think there was quite a gap between "on" and "off" for me.

Are there a lot of differences between "Asumi Rio the otokoyaku" and "Asumi Rio the actress?" How about between your stage name persona and your private self under your birth name?

I've lived under my stage name for so much longer than my birth name that I feel like, at this point, the parts of myself that belong to my real name are few and far between. I do have the feeling that, in some respect, I've grown up together with my stage name. In essence, while I was in Takarazuka, I didn't worry too much about creating a separate persona. Thanks to the kindness of my fans and the environment I was in, I felt like I could leave my otokoyaku persona on the stage and stay pretty close to my natural self everywhere else. I guess the only thing is, when I'm alone in my house, I revert to goblin mode. (laughs wryly) Like I'll have trouble getting myself to go take a bath, or I really should clean but my back hurts, etc., etc.

By contrast, now that I've graduated from being an otokoyaku, a lot of the things I'm doing as an actress are total firsts for me, so I think I feel more discomfort with my presentation now than I did then. There are times when I get really nervous, and then I get disappointed in myself for feeling that way. Like, until just a little while ago, I was in a position where I was responsible for keeping everyone's morale up. I would get up on that stage like, "It's alright, just leave it to me," so what am I all anxious for now? I often think about how much I still have to learn, and how badly I want to hurry up and learn it so I can show the results of my efforts.

Is there a particular ideal you're currently pursuing? What kind of actress do you want to become, and what kind of woman?

Since leaving Takarazuka, I've had a lot more opportunity to meet all kinds of new people. On every set I've been on, each of the actresses I meet has their own unique aura, and seeing their acting up close, I'm blown away by each of them. Among the staff as well, there are so many different kinds of professionals of all ages, and I often find myself inspired by their work ethic and lifestyle. I'd like to continue to enrich my life by learning from the amazing people I meet and experiencing many new things, and work to become a more fully rounded human being.

*Bracketed notes not marked "TN" (Translator's Note) were present in the original article.

[punemy-spotted]

The Shape of Grief - Chapter 2

The Still of your Hand

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Muslim!Reader; Steve Rogers x Muslim!Reader (Past); Bucky Barnes x Muslim!Reader (Unrequited)

Warnings: Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Not Canon Compliant; Grief; Possessive/Obsessive Characters; Blackmail/Coercion; Canon-Levels of Violence; Character Death (Past); Character Death (Minor); Discussion of The Snap; Eventual Smut; Chapter Specific Warnings Apply

Chapter Warnings: Angst; Grief; Minor Hurt/Comfort, Definitely Not-Great Coping Mechanisms, Further Discussion of Major Character Death (Steve Rogers); Mention of Food/Cooking; Death Discussion; Mention of Wounds

Chapter Summary: The shape of grief is the memory of your smile I will never see again.

Chapter 1

Notes: I have chosen to explicitly mark the Reader as Muslim for the remainder of this series as an act of representation. I want to note here that my experience of Islam is that of a Desi Shia Muslim and that is the perspective I will be writing the Reader. If I get certain facts wrong, it’s likely because I’m pulling from my own personal experience as a Muslim as opposed to diving into research due to conflicting narratives and out of respect for those who are of the various sects.

Please understand that the marking of the Reader as Muslim should not take away from anyone’s enjoyment of the story.

Karbala: The site of the martyrdom of Imam Hussayn ibn Ali. According to the stories of my childhood, Imam Hussayn and his family were denied food and water for three days and nights before he was martyred. To this day, if I don’t get my dad a glass of water immediately after he asks, he accuses me of being like the men who killed the Imam.

Anyways, huge thanks to @brandycranby who helped me anxiety my way through this chapter and also coined the phrase, “You’ve heard of Catholic guilt, now let me introduce you to Muslim guilt,” which is basically the theme of all my writings at this point.

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

Years ago, just after he got down on one knee, Steven Grant Rogers became a fugitive from the law. What an engagement present. What a marriage, what a honeymoon you two had, running from the government with Sam and the rest by your side, chasing down HYDRA and whoever else.

You still remember the day he did, showing up bruised, battered, beaten, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson holding him up. You remember the news that day — the Winter Soldier accused of killing King T’Chaka, the world in chaos, and your doorstep a safe house you never expected.

Hey I know this is a big ask, I kn —

Don’t say anything, just come inside. Let me get my kit.

Now, as you kneel in the gray light of the early morning, listening to the sound of Bucky breathing quiet in bed next to you — always your bed, you need his presence and he needs yours, it’s been that way since you both came back — you wonder just how many traditions of Steve’s he plans to keep upholding.

Because Helmut Zemo is asleep in your guest room.

Yes.

That Helmut Zemo. That Helmut Zemo who actually blew up the UN building and killed King T’Chaka. That Helmut Zemo who revealed the truth of Howard and Maria Stark’s death and kept your family on the run.

That Helmut Zemo is asleep in your guest room.

Bucky, what the hell is this?

We need him, Doc. I’ll explain in a minute.

You don’t have too much time to think on that though — it’s morning, and your day begins when your prayers are ended.

So while Bucky sleeps still, your blanket also draped over him so he can have that extra layer of warmth to keep the nightmares at bay, you fold your prayer mat and leave the quiet sanctity of your bedroom.

You close the door behind you with the faintest click, and Bucky snores on. A peaceful morning — rare enough these days that you actually find yourself cherishing it.

Sam took up sentry on your couch, asleep on the pull-out bed you set up because he insisted on being able to watch Zemo’s door in case he tried anything funny. He’s asleep still too, brow furrowed by whatever he’s dreaming of and all you do is pick up the blanket he flung off sometime in the night, draping it back over him.

This.

This is the normal you expected and how bizarre is that? Take stock of your circumstances for a moment, just think. Here you are, with one super-soldier, one Avenger, and one escaped extremist in your house, all about to wake up in an hour or so. None of them will demand anything — too polite by half — but they will need breakfast and you don’t trust anyone but yourself in your kitchen anymore.

You might be becoming your mother here.

Wipe that thought from your mind.

Don’t think of the past, don’t think of the people you will never see again — their faces bubble in your memories, calling you back, calling you home, calling you to the places you cannot go.

Don’t let them draw you in, not this time.

You start the kettle and coffeemaker instead, justifying it by reminding yourself in hushed whispers — Not everyone drinks tea the way you do…

There. Hold onto the counter, let the sob rip through you. Hold on, dig your fingers into the hard stone, gasp out that helpless little noise, let yourself feel it, let it pass through you just this moment.

It will never stop.

It will never ever stop.

You make a home of it, the temporary accommodations and safe houses you find yourself in every so often. Sometimes you wonder if Tony has a hand in all of it, in keeping the world from finding Steve, or if T’Challa’s the one watching out for all of you. No one comes looking — the movements, the safe houses, the hotels, they fell less like you’re being chased and more like you’re doing the chasing.

You make a home of it.

A home for Steve to come back to from… wherever he needs to go, doing whatever it is he needs to do. He never tells you — not safe, shouldn’t worry you, we’ll be okay — and you ask him only once every night, ask him so he knows you want to know, ask him but don’t let the set of his jaw become any more tense, don’t let him be any more frustrated.

He’d never hurt you, not this man laying in your arms and trying to hide the fact that he is exhausted while you run your fingers through his hair, but you’re scared he’d hurt himself out of guilt and you can’t have that either.

I love you, you tell him softly, patching up his wounds and pressing kisses to the edge of his bruises like that too can have the same healing abilities as modern medicine. They do, they always do, and he loves them more than he can say.

You don’t have to do this. You can stay in Wakanda, keep an eye on Bucky, get some pointers on their health system. King T’Challa’s fine with it, yo—

You need a field medic. I’m trained to do this.

More than trained, but that retirement from combat was supposed to put you in a hospital operating room, not in muddy fields triaging a leg wound and thanking your lucky stars Natasha Romanoff didn’t sever a major artery.

You get used to it.

You get used to a lot of things. Adaptable, I like that, Steve used to tease you, always pressing down the corners of his smile because you’d lose your temper at him for making fun of you after a bad day of classes.

Adaptable.

You hate that word and yet you get used to it, make a banner of it, a shield of your very own to hide your husband behind that armored barrier and you bid him to rest.

I love you, you remind him, holding him in the darkness of your hotel room and listening to him fail to pretend he’s actually asleep, I’m still here, I promise.

You can go back, it’s not too late. If this is too much…

I don’t want to argue this, baby, please. I’m sticking with you and that’s final.

‘Til the end of the line, as he’d have told Bucky.

Who broke whose promise first?

He looks sweet in his relief, always relieved to hear it. Still that boy, seeking assurance, seeking validation, seeking to know he won’t be left alone in the world. He’s not. He never will be, not if you still have breath in your lungs to assure him.

How many more ways can you fail the man you love?

And when he leans up and when he laces fingers with your and when he takes a look at that simple band he gave you for a wedding ring, he kisses you with all the gratitude he can muster, lets you know in soft whispers against your skin just how much he loves you, What would I do without you?

Everything you do now, just not with me.

Sounds terrible, I hate it.

You hate it too, turns out.

You hate that it’s Sunday morning and Steve Rogers isn’t here to wrap his arms around your waist while you attempt to make a ritual out of the days on the run by insisting on making pancakes.

You hate that you can almost feel him tucking his face into the crook of your neck, greedy for time alone with you, time without Natasha or Sam talking to him about the mission or General Ross or whatever else he didn’t want to think about in that moment.

You hate that he’s not here.

But it’s Sunday morning and you take out the ingredients to make pancakes anyways because Steve Rogers might not be here but Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson are and they need something more than a bowl of granola and yogurt for breakfast … and lunch, and dinner.

You’re too busy getting everything mixed together to hear him, the silent interloper in your kitchen. Not until he clears his throat and Doctor Rogers, I presume?

Thankfully the bowl of batter is on the counter instead of in your arms when you yelp, spinning around in a flurry and then fixing Baron Zemo with a withering look to cover up the fact that he startled you.

My apologies, he says first, before anything else, and then, If I may impose upon you for some water…?

You may not, you almost snap, ready to pick a fight in an instant, ready to be Steve Rogers’s great defender, ready to remind the…

Rather apologetic and sad looking man in your kitchen that he is not welcome.

Except he is, because you let him into your home. You set up the guest room. You ought to be a good hostess.

The fridge buzzes as you fill the glass, the red dirt of Karbala settling into place.

Thank you, still politely soft-voiced as he watches you, unnervingly unblinking.

All you can do is nod, nod and turn back around to the waiting batter. The griddle is almost ready as it is and you’ll need to focus on that instead of that dark-eyed curiosity fixed on your back.

He called you Doctor.

He remembered.

You try not to think too much on that — of course he remembered, he makes it a point to know everything about everyone and he studied Steve. He studied Steve and you two… had just gotten engaged, before everything went to hell.

Well. Minor hell, compared to now, right?

The pancakes sizzle slightly on the griddle and you focus only on that, listening for anything but the sounds of him still standing there behind you.

Do you do this often? You can’t tell if that’s an attempt to make conversation or a pry for information, but the result is the same. Tension in your shoulders, the tightening of your lips, a frown as you refuse to meet his eyes. You shouldn’t talk to him — Bucky gave him express instructions to not do that — but here he is.

Talking.

To you.

Do what often?

This. You appear a practiced hand at managing them.

The griddle sizzles loudly as you flip pancakes and try not to look insulted. I don’t manage anyone. They’re grown men.

And yet you are making them breakfast.

I don’t have a butler who tends to my family’s needs for me.

So they are family to you.

You’ve said too much.

You’ve said too much and now he knows and now you are staring at nothing and everything all at once, watching your world crumble around you all at once and desperately trying to put the bricks back to rights.

You alright over there?

The shape of your name in Sam’s voice cuts through the waking nightmare like a warm embrace, not so sleepy as much as he is alert and up, suspicious in an instant about the man in your kitchen.

Steady. You don’t want to cause any more conflict than is already about to happen, so wipe your tears before anyone else sees. Plaster that same paparazzi smile you’ve mastered on your face, make sure nothing’s burning and turn. Turn around.

Morning, Sam. Sleep okay?

He just nods, suspicious as he eyes you both but…

Thankfully saying nothing more before going to actually freshen up in the morning.

You hate this.

Of course you do.

You hate the way they look at you when they walk past, when they think you’re not looking, pitying and worried. You hate how it’s shattered you, turned you into a shell of who you were and you hate that you don’t recognize the woman in the photographs anymore.

You hate that you depend on this, this worrying, to remind you you’re still…

Here.

Baron Zemo’s hand is cool over yours, coaxing you aside, soft voice washing over you, Let me, it is the least I can do, and you really should say no, should protest, should insist on controlling the last vestige of control you have but you surrender that too, watching a man with a too-sly smile take over the space you barely even let Bucky manage.

You barely buzz when he moves you.

And when Sam Wilson returns to you sitting statue-still at your kitchen island, with Helmut Zemo at the stove, he decides there are just some things in the world one does not call out.

[chroma-ki]

What Happens When Society Fails Those Who Could Succeed - A Bakugo Katsuki Analysis

I started this a while ago, but I’ve seen others delve into this topic and I wanted to share as well. This delves into to hero society’s affects on Bakugo Katsuki’s upbringing, his worldview, his self-view, and Izuku’s involvement in breaking down the ideas society has drilled into his head. 

A lot of people like to ignore the fact that Katsuki is a 14-year-old kid at the start of the series and that much of his life, attitude and disposition of the world have been completely shaped by the adults and society around him. 

What do you expect a kid with potential to turn into when they are warped in such a way by a society that dictates that they need to be strong, or nothing at all? What about when your only value is based around a sliding scale of strength and weakness? What happens when that kid’s only source of help comes in the form of a reckless, selfless child who defies all sense of logic and reason (Izuku)?

Growing up, Bakugo was constantly praised for being strong, having a powerful quirk and being generally the smartest person in the room at any given time. He could arguably be considered a prodigy, and much of what he sees and learns feels beneath him -- because it's already on his mind. He is a kid with natural god-given talent that everyone around him immediately recognizes as above average. 

Even as a toddler, he was constantly a step ahead of everyone else. Due to this, people developed a lot of high expectations for him at a young age -- and it doesn't help that he has a naturally competitive streak that makes him constantly want to prove himself and live up to these expectations; even surpass them.

Always being at the top of his class and being ahead of the curve mentally fuel the idea in Katsuki's mind that, in the game of life, he is 'winning'. Yet, at the same time, none of it is ever enough. Other's high expectations of him cause him to build extremely high expectations of himself; expectations that border on unrealistic. They also inflate his ego exponentially when this praise gets reaffirmed time and time again.

Certainly, in a situation where you're raised on other people's praise and validation, it is completely understandable that you would put a lot of emotional emphasis on other people's opinions of you. On top of that, he gives off such a natural and convincing air of confidence that people can't help but feel that he is reliable, despite his attitude. People are awed by him, and all of it feeds into the mental image he has constructed of himself, and the world as a whole. It's the whole reason for a lot of how he acts. He builds an image of himself based on the praise of those around him -- and even Izuku also feeds into this mentality by worshipping the literal ground Katsuki walks on as a kid.

This mentality seems to be working fine for him until Izuku's very presence starts to throw a wrench into everything Katsuki has been raised to believe. 

Izuku completely defies logic to Katsuki. Izuku does not fit the societal norm and, beyond what others have taught him, Izuku is Katsuki’s only real hint that the world might not be quite what he thinks it is, and that his idea of what it means to be strong may not be a ‘one-size fits all’ defenition.

Izuku is a quirkless kid; weak and generally mild-mannered. He doesn't have any self-confidence and is a big crybaby. Yet, Izuku still believes that he can be strong and become a hero -- when Katsuki has always been told the opposite. Katsuki recognizes that this may be some version of strength he is unaware of, and it raises BIG RED FLAGS in his mind.

Where many of Katsuki's other childhood friends were barely more than acquaintances who he forgot over time, Izuku immediately caught Katsuki's interest and spiked his curiosity. Like everyone else in his life, Izuku praised Katsuki and told him all the things he wanted to hear -- but Izuku was also unique and intelligent. Izuku was the first person who actually seemed like they could stand near Katsuki's level; like they might be actual competition. 

Then, Bakugo got his quirk and Izuku is diagnosed as quirkless. The reactions of everyone around him to this news, including Izuku’s own reaction, only go back to telling him what society has told him all along. Strength is everything, and quirks are a part of that desired strength. This is another moment that reaffirms Katsuki's world view. "I won, you lose. I really am the best."

Though Bakugo is super aggressive on the outside, he is a very self-critical character and often means the opposite of whatever he is saying. Especially when it comes to his self-confidence and bravado. 

People often complain when watching the series about him telling people to 'die' and "got to hell", or calling other people "extras", and I don't think enough people understand -- that is just how he speaks. Those are things he says out of reflexive anger. None of those words ever have any real meaning. 

It's more important to pay more attention to the moments in which he is more reserved/quiet. He suffers from both a superiority complex and inferiority complex, as well as paranoia (much of which revolves around his warped idea of how Deku, and other people he values, perceive him). Much of what he says is just empty words or him trying to project an image of self-confidence.

He wears his pride like a suit of armor to hide all the things he doesn't want to admit about himself. He attempts to make up for his own insecurities by getting angry. And he learned this at home from his mother, who is much the same as him.

From the little that we have seen of his parents throughout the series so far, his parents love him and provide him with everything he could possibly need -- but his mother often insults him and throws harsh truths in his face to counteract his cocky nature. One of the most notable instances of this is when All Might and Aizawa are talking to his parents about moving the kids to the dorms and his mom says "If you hadn't have gotten yourself caught by the villains in the first place, none of this would have happened".

That comment feeds directly into his mental breakdown in front of Izuku where he blames himself for All Might's downfall, flat out saying that "If I hadn't been kidnapped by villains, then it never would have happened".

It gets me every time if you go back to the 8th episode of the series, near the VERY BEGINNING -- right after he's defeated by Deku for the first time in combat training -- and the episode literally starts with him having a full on panic attack. 

He's trembling, hands shaking, hyperventilating, the whole deal. And that particular incident was triggered not only by Deku defeating him and standing up to him (which completely contradicts the Izuku that Bakugo has grown up with all his life and feeds into Bakugo's own fear that he is weak), but is also brought on by the fact that he notices how severely Deku allowed himself to be injured JUST TO WIN THE EXCERSIZE. Again, this idea that even the weak can be strong. It also doesn’t help that he cares about Izuku and doesn’t want to see him get hurt.

And I'm sorry -- but below does not look like the face of someone who's pissed off to me. He looks PETRIFIED.

Izuku doesn't just piss Bakugo off -- Izuku TERRIFIES him.

There are actually multiple instances of him reacting like this to Izuku injuring himself throughout the series: sludge villain, sports festival fight against Todoroki and the training camp where Bakugo was kidnapped being the major ones I can think of beyond current managa events. Bakugo may claim to ‘hate’ Deku, but he DOES NOT like to see Deku hurt himself to win, or to save. 

Bakugo saw this 'self-sacrificing' trait in Izuku even as a young kid, and it freaked him out. It made him feel weak. It made him question himself and the world around him.

This fear starts with the incident where Bakugo fell off the log as a kid. 

It wasn't a life threatening situation, but it was the first situation where Izuku rushed to Bakugo's aid with complete disregard to himself AND when everyone else refused to help. 

Bakugo's friends, teachers and parents all held him to such high expectations of intelligence, power and strength -- so of course those would be the values that he grows up idolizing. No one ever really offered him help, because they assumed he didn't need it -- and then Izuku comes rushing in offering it to him, risking his life to do so, and Katsuki's only thought is "Why?! Why do you feel like you have to save me when you can't even protect yourself? Needing to be saved means that I'm weak! Do you think that I'm weak?" I have recently watched another show that had a similar scenario and that character explained what I believe Katsuki felt in this situation BEAUTIFULLY.  ------ “It felt like [he] was trying to say I was weak or something. [He] was intruding on feelings [he] didn’t have any right to – and I hated it. Then that got me thinking about everyone else in my life. They never treated me like I was a weakling; someone who needed his hand held. They had faith that I would continue to grow and they let me do it; helping me without ever making me feel weak.” 

Izuku continues to do this again and again throughout the series when it comes to Bakugo: the slime villain incident, the training camp, etc -- all without fully comprehending how his actions affect Bakugo. Each time this happens, Bakugo feels weak and utterly helpless to save himself OR to stop Izuku. It's all his worst fears realized.

It's like living his worst nightmare over and over without end in sight.

Going back to the concept of him being offered 'help', very few people have offered him this throughout his life -- and they all saw it as something he never really needed. It's like Katsuki's personality and mental state is a huge sign screaming 'I DON'T UNDERSTAND! NOTHING MAKES SENSE! IT MAKES ME MAD AND UPSET! SOMEONE, HELP ME.' and everyone just ignores it.

--- During the log incident - all his friends say 'Oh well, he's fine. He'll pick himself back up.' and Izuku is the only one who offers to help. 

--- The sludge villain incident - all the pro heroes say "We can't help right now! You'll just have to hold on, kid!" and again Izuku is the only one who offers help.

--- After his and Deku’s first fight at Ground Beta, which utterly breaks him, all the other students just let him leave alone and only Izuku rushes to help. All Might sees him upset and crying after this and says, “Oh, I guess he’s already over it” -- when that obviously wasn’t the case. 

--- And then -- to top it all off -- after he was kidnapped by the LOV and held captive for 3 days without help he wasn't even given time to process! He was taken away by police, ridiculed by his mother, forced to go back to school where his teachers acted like nothing happened, jumped into the provisional hero licensing exam with all those helpless feelings rolling around inside of him and on top of it found out that Izuku received All Might's power -- a power that he had spent his whole life putting on a pedestal. And he goes to Izuku for help.

The fact that everyone just brushed him off like he was someone who didn't need help is just disgusting. The only instance where an adult in his life acknowledged that he needed it was AFTER he already had a full on mental breakdown in front of Izuku, blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong and thinking that he had somehow been living his life wrong all this time. Only then did All Might and Aizawa think, ‘Yeah, maybe we failed this kid.’ 

Keep in mind during all of this that he is 15-16-years-old! He's trying to figure out how to deal with this shit all on his own, with the only person he feels comfortable opening up to being Izuku - someone who he has so much trouble understanding.

At the heart of Katsuki is a place of fear. Fear of being weak, fear of being helpless, fear of failure, fear of losing his friends, fear of himself, most certainly fear of Izuku -- and fear FOR IZUKU. He is a boy who lives in a constant state of panic, worry and paranoia. He is lonely and beats down on himself a lot.

The series deals a lot with how hero society has completely failed it's future generations, but Katsuki is a case where they should have succeeded -- yet ultimately they failed him too. He has all the makings of what could be one of the greatest heroes of all time, yet those around him only focused on the parts of him that could make him great and chose to ignore all the parts that would ruin him from the inside out. 

They put him high up on a pedestal only to knock him down and refuse to help him back up. They made him feel like even asking for help was something that made him 'lesser', and it caused him to see other people that way too.

Izuku is the heart of Katsuki's growth, because in every way that Izuku succeeds, Katsuki fails. 

I would actually argue that out of anyone in the series since coming to UA, Katsuki has experienced the highest amount of personal failure. He has been knocked down time and time again but ultimately wants to pick himself back up to prove that he deserves to be there. He fights for his friends and tries his best at everything he does. He doesn't always get it right, and he says things that might offend others, but other than Izuku, he's the most driven person there and would utterly destroy himself to reach his goals.

[serendipitystyles]

The View From Both Sides of The Mirror

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 23.5k

Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?

Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself

A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!

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*

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.

The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.

There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.

The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 

The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.

Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).

And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.

Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.

He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 

But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.

There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 

The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.

That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.

Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.

Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.

So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.

You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 

Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.

Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.

It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.

It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.

It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.

You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.

You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.

So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.

You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.

He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.

He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.

But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 

He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.

*

When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.

However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.

To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.

You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.

When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 

You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.

Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 

They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.

After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.

Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..

*

You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.

You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.

If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.

By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.

Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?

You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.

You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.

You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.

The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.

“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).

It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.

You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 

You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.

You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.

*

What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.

He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 

You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.

You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.

You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.

“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.

“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”

“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.

“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 

He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 

You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 

The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.

The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.

Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”

“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.

*

The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.

You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.

You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.

Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 

Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.

You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.

After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you

*

Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.

“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.

That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.

She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.

Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.

You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.

Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.

You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.

And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 

Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 

She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 

Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.

“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.

“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.

Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 

You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.

You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.

Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.

*

It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.

We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X

You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.

You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.

When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 

You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.

“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.

You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 

He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.

The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 

“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.

You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.

You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 

You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.

You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.

The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 

Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.

“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.

“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.

“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.

He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 

He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.

For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 

So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.

You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.

You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 

You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 

Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.

It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?

Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.

Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.

“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.

“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 

“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.

“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?

“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?

“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.

“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.

“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.

“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 

“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.

“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?

“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.

You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.

“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 

He scoffs, “Yes you are.”

“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,

“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”

After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”

He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.

“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.

“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.

“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?

“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.

“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”

If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”

“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.

“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 

You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”

That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.

“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.

Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.

He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.

“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 

He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.

For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.

You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.

You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 

You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.

Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 

You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.

You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.

You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 

You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.

You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”

“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.

“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.

“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.

You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”

You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.

You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.

“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.

He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.

“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.

His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 

You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 

Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.

“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.

You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.

*

What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.

You rush down to where they are.

“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 

You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”

Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.

“Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.

“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.

“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.

*

It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.

“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.

“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.

You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”

With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.

After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”

You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”

He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.

You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.

The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.

*

You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 

As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.

“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?

“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 

“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.

“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.

“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?

“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.

“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 

You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.

You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 

Could he really care about you?

If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?

How does he expect to make this up to you?

You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 

Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 

But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.

Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.

Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.

You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.

You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 

Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.

*

Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 

The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.

The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 

You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?

“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.

“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.

“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”

“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.

“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.

“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.

“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.

“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.

“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.

“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.

“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.

“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Alright.” you grin “H.”

The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 

 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.

“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.

“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.

“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 

“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.

“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.

“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.

“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.

You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.

You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.

His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.

It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.

After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.

He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.

He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.

You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.

He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.

“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.

“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.

“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.

Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.

He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 

The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 

God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.

Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.

He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.

He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.

“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”

“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”

He sighs, “Never hated you.”

You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”

“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”

You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 

“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.

“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.

“Hmm?” he wonders.

You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”

A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.

He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.

You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.

RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.

You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 

After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.

He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 

You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.

“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.

“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.

“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.

“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 

“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.

“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.

“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.

You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.

“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.

“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.

“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.

“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.

It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.

Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 

You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.

But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.

Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.

You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.

As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 

You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.

When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 

He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.

“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”

“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.

He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 

“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.

“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.” You say.

You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.

For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.

*

After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.

Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.

Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.

“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.

“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.

If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.

After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.

As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.

*

When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 

Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.

Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.

“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.

“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.

“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”

You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.

After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.

He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”

Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”

*

When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.

“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.

You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.

Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”

He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”

“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”

He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”

You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.

“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”

“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.

“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.

“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”

You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 

“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 

You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”

You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.

“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.

You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.

You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.

“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”

The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”

“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”

The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.

“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.

“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.

“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 

You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.

“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.

“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”

You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.

Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.

You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.

After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 

*

The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.

When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.

They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.

You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 

You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.

You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.

Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”

You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.

“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”

You smile at his observational skills. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”

You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.

You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.

You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.

He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.

“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 

After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.

You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.

“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.

“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”

“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”

He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 

You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.

You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.

“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.

“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.

Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.

He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.

You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.

You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.

You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 

“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.

He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.

“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 

Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.

You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.

You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.

Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.

“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.

“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.

“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”

“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.

The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 

Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.

You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.

The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.

You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?

Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.

“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.

You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 

“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.

“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”

The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.

He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.

You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 

After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.

Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.

“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”

He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.

“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.

“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.

“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.

All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.

“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.

You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”

You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.

“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.

After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.

“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”

“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.

You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 

You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.

You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 

“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 

The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.

“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”

You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 

After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 

Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 

“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.

“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.

“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.

You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.

“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.

“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.

“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.

“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.

After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”

He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”

You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”

You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.

“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”

He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”

“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.

You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”

His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”

“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.

“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.

“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.

He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”

Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”

HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”

“I’m getting there.” You admit.

“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.

You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.

He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.

“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.

He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.

Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.

“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.

He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.

Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”

He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.

After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”

“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 

You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.

But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.

Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep

*

You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.

“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.

“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”

You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 

You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.

Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.

“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.

“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.” You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.

He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.

“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.

“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.

“Which part?” You say, playing coy.

“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”

You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”

You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.

After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.

*

After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.

“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.

On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.

He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.

He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”

You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.

In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.

As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 

You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”

“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.

“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”

“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.

“Calm down, H.” You urge.

“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 

“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”

“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.

“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”

“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”

“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.

“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.

“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.

“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”

“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.

“Deal.” He says without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.

“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.

“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.

“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.

*

After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.

You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 

“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.

He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 

“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.

“What?” How are they being so calm about this?

“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.

How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 

*

A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 

The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 

Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.

*

Thank you for reading!! You can come discuss with me here!!

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[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

Leo and Space Heroes headcanons

He had trouble learning English as a child, but things got a lot easier once he started watching the show (although he started off focusing on what the characters were doing, rather than what they were saying, and he still does that sometimes, which is why he rarely notices the flaws in the dialogue).

He thought that the human world actually had a space program on the scale of the one in the show and was very disappointed when Sensei told him this was not the case.

Still, he had big dreams of being an astronaut, convinced that society would one accept his family the way Space Heroes accepted alien races. He abruptly stopped talking about such things when he was eleven years old. That was around the time that all four turtles had stumbled upon a news story of a synagogue shooting, and it started really getting through to them just how easy it was for humanity to attack those who were different.

Leo uses overdramatic language when he’s anxious or scared, and he likes to think that Captain Ryan does the same sometimes.

Deep down, Leo knows about all the problematic aspects of the show, but he still loves it because of how it shaped his childhood and makes him feel like he could fly the way nothing else can (also, his crush on Captain Ryan).

Leo was in denial about his crush on Ryan for a very long time, and kept it a secret from his family even longer. He was never quite sure how his father might react to his bisexuality, and only took the first few tentative steps towards coming out after Splinter’s death.

Leo was on Space Heroes message boards and reading Space Heroes fan fiction for almost a year before getting up the courage to contribute anything of his own.

Once he got started, though, he became very vocal. He once challenged a fellow fan to a duel over which third-season episode had the best character development. They couldn’t decide whether to use swords or Tasers, and thankfully Leo calmed down enough to realize what a stupid idea it was before things went any farther.

Leo’s family knows that he writes fanfiction, but haven’t been able to catch him in the act. Donnie managed it once, but Leo threatened to show his brother’s “anatomical studies” of naked humans to Splinter. They agreed on a state of mutually assured destruction.

However, Leo’s family doesn’t know that his fanfiction has gotten increasingly darker over the years, as he tries to cope with all the shit he and his loved ones have been through.

He started out writing fluffy/smutty self-inserts (with various levels of disguise) but now he finds himself using a wide array of warning tags with a lot of major character death, graphic violence, and even some non-con. (Please note: I’m not trying to do anything similar or work something out in my own writing, I just thought that might be something Leo would do, because he lives so much through stories). Something he’s confused or disturbed by the stuff he writes, but he’ll often feel better after writing it.

Karai and Shini finally talked him into dressing up as an alien and going to a Space Heroes convention. He had so much fun that he stayed for hours and they eventually had to drag him home.

[talesmaniac89]

Choices - The Beginning

Pairing: Dean x Reader OR Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome.  You go on a hunt with the two Winchester brothers, one of whom you love. You decide who your Winchester is and what happens along the way. Each part is a fully independently written section and no parts are copies of others, so the story can be read a full 8 different ways with 15 parts in total and 8 endings!

Total word count: 45k+ words (over 15 parts)

Triggers: Dark, torture, reader death, angst, loss, pain, blood, serious injuries, heartbreak, implied possible major character death, fear of abandonment, loneliness, hostage situation, gore (series levels blood, torture and fatal injuries)

Triggers depend on your choices, so if you are easily upset by any of the above please proceed with caution.

[Your Story Starts Here] - You’ll be asked to make your first choice at the bottom of this chapter.

Y/N = Your Name

---

“(Y/N)! Get a move on!” 

Dean’s deep voice echoed down the hallway just as you shouldered your duffle bag with a roll of your eyes. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since the call for help had come in. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’d been busy cleaning your guns when the call came, you would’ve already been out there in the library with them, ready to go. It wasn’t as if you’d been standing around fussing over which ratty t-shirt to pack for an hour.

“On my way!” You shouted back, grimacing as the heightened volume easily erased the annoyance you’d wanted to subtly lace each word with. Throwing another quick look around your room in the Men of Letters bunker you sighed at the mess. 

T-shirts and jeans were everywhere, as you’d pulled out everything to quickly stuff a few items in your overnight bag just in case the hunt took longer than planned. Not to mention the cleaning supplies you’d left abandoned on the floor from where you’d been sitting cross-legged polishing your favourite revolver.

It would all have to wait till you got back. Even though you knew you’d regret it once you made it back, bruised and stiff from the fight and the subsequent ride back in the Impala. Having to clean your room before you could fall into your bed feeling sorry for your aching bones was never fun. 

Yet, sticking to a decision you knew you’d come to regret; you got a move on before Dean could call out for you again. Swiping up your phone, you hurried out into the hallway and nearly ran straight into Sam as he came barrelling out of his own room. 

“Dean?” He asked, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a raised eyebrow a clear sign that your annoyance at being rushed was showing on your features. Though it didn’t matter, since the youngest Winchester clearly shared your irritation as he threw you a glance, underscored by an eye roll that put yours to shame.

“Yeah… Dean,” You said with a sigh as you lifted the straps of the duffle bag off of your shoulder. Attempting to bring some blood flow back into your arm from the heavy load of guns, knives, holy water and other goodies. As well as the clothes thrown in for good measure. 

“Let’s not keep our oh so righteous leader waiting then. C’mon (Y/N),” Sam smirked, teasing a small smile out of you as well. Before quickly reaching down and effortlessly snatching your duffle bag from your hands and hurrying down the hallway. If it wasn’t for your relief of having the bag off of your shoulders you would have stopped him. Reminded him that you could easily kick his ass if you went one on one. 

But, you knew that there were no hidden meanings in Sam’s gesture. He was just trying to be helpful.

You’d realised quite quickly after getting to know him that one of the things the youngest Winchester feared more than anything else was being abandoned; seen as useless or a burden and left standing in the dust. The shadows of his childhood fears were still clinging to him, little tendrils that he’d never managed to shake. Old fears from a youth spent in constant worry that his father would just drop him off somewhere and drive off without ever coming back. That, coupled with the many lost friends, lovers and hunters that had left him, willingly or unwillingly, made him try twice as hard at being of use to those he loved, every step of the way. From small kind gestures, like carrying your bag, to willingly offering himself up as a sacrifice to the big baddies of the world, in hopes of rescuing Dean, Cas, and now you.

Rolling your shoulders to shake off the rest of the strain from the bag, you pocketed your phone before hurrying after Sam down the hallway. No point in being grumpy when there were bad guys to gank. And neither of the two men in your life deserved your grumbled dissatisfaction. Both the bag and Dean’s insistence of getting on the road as fast as possible were just their own little ways of showing they cared. 

Sam was just trying to be helpful and Dean was always worried about losing another civilian by being just a second too late. And you loved them both for it. After all, one was your best friend in the whole world, while the other already secretly had your heart. Though you’d never found the courage to tell him you slipped it into his hands when he wasn’t looking. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s voice echoed down the hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into your grumbled exasperation aimed at the oldest hunter. Ok… So maybe you’d allow yourself to be a tiny big grumpy until there were baddies in front of you to take it out on.

“I said I’m on my way!” You called back in a huff. Casting a quick glance at your closed bedroom door before quickly running to join the boys. Hopefully the bruises yet to come from the hunt wouldn’t make you regret your decision to leave the mess behind.

---

“So where are we headed, exactly?” You asked after about an hour’s drive and a quick case briefing from Dean. Leaning between the seats from the backseat of the Impala in a way that had Sam throwing worried glances your way for your lax seat-belt etiquette. 

“There’s a farmhouse, just 40 clicks away now, shouldn’t take long,” Dean’s voice had taken on that steely hardness it got whenever things got serious. And though the case was nothing out of the ordinary for the Winchesters and you, there had already been two reported deaths.

Which also meant that Dean had already added their names and faces to his list of sins to carry. People he could have saved if he could have somehow seen into the future. The oldest Winchester always etched the names of every lost soul into his big heart, burying them there among the many ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs’ that weighed his broad shoulders down. He was a good leader, and a great hunter, but sometimes he cared a little too deeply. Leaving him hurt no matter how well a hunt went.

“... And put on your seatbelt (Y/N),” 

“Yeah, yeah,” 

… And sometimes he treated you like a little kid. The thought teased a wry sigh out of you. Quickly reaching out, you turned up the volume of the Led Zeppelin song that was playing, a small act of rebellion, before leaning back in your seat. Smiling innocently as Dean’s green eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror, his attempt at exasperation softened by the way his eyes crinkled in a smile. 

No matter how hard as steel the hunter tried to act, he always had a soft spot for Sam and you. To Dean, his feelings were cracks in his armour. They were the blind spots his father had told him about when teaching him to ‘always watch his back’. Yet, the man was more deserving of a family, of love, than anyone else you knew. And so, Sammy and you watched his back instead. Where he watched yours. Both of you determined for the older hunter to see you as strengths, not weaknesses.

Soldiers, shoulder by shoulder.

And, though Dean would constantly complain... You knew he was secretly happy the two of you stuck around; silently terrified of the loneliness he always tried to force onto himself by pushing others away. No matter how loudly his father’s words echoed in his mind and tried to tell him he was leaving himself vulnerable.

Letting Black Dog be your soundtrack, you watched the two most important people in your world from the backseat of the Impala. The Winchester brothers; both carrying scars from the family business they’d fallen into after their mother’s death. Each fearing abandonment and hurt in their own bruised and broken way. Both forced to give up any dream of apple pie to make the world a better place. Children turned soldiers turned martyrs, shaped into a sacrifice by a world that turned a blind eye to their suffering. Which was why you had promised yourself that you would try your damndest to give them a home, and that you would never run away from your life with them. 

Even if a certain hunter sometimes made that a hard promise to keep, as every friendly jab broke your heart at the clearly unrequited love you harboured. 

You sighed internally as you cast a careful glance in the direction of the man you’d come to love as more than just a hunting buddy or a friend, more than anything really, over the last year and a half of hunting with him. He’d probably be heartbroken to know he was hurting you, which was why you could never tell him how you felt. How your heart and body reacted, as if by reflex, whenever he was around.

Anything he did, from the smallest smile to the feel of his eyes on you, set your body on fire. In a manner not so different to what Robert Plant was promising he’d do to you as Black Dog blared over the Impala’s speaker system. And fuck if you didn’t want to echo the great artist himself and ask the man in front of you to do some not so innocent things to you whenever your eyes strayed to lips that you’d rather have on you than rambling on as they currently were about the case.

“Right… So, to make sure we’re ready…” 

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

The man you love is speaking - who is he?

[Dean Winchester] or [Sam Winchester]

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[theemptyskies]

Real talk.

Note that this is all my own opinion.

In an Azula Redemption fic, in my opinion, she would not have to apologize for anything she did during the war to anyone. Not Aang for shooting him with lightning. Not Mai or Ty lee for imprisoning them. Not the Gaang for chasing them. The only one I might concede is targeting Katara during an Agni Kai.

What she probably should do, is apologize for the way she treated Mai, Ty lee and Zuko when they were children. If it takes place post smoke and shadow then she should apologize for what happened then as well.

She does not owe Ursa anything. While Ursa did love her, she very much neglected Azula which left her feeling that something was wrong with her. She has every right to never let Ursa in her life again. There is no argument that can be made against it. Azula's feelings are valid. She was neglected by her mother. Ursa's personal feelings don't matter. She may have loved her but I don't recall any instance where she actually told Azula that, or spent time with her, or showed even close to the same level of affection. Ursa did kiss her on the cheek the night she left, however I will point out that she woke up Zuko and made sure the last thing she said to him was basically I love you while she left Azula unconscious, unaware of the action. We never even see a scene where Ursa says "I love you" to her.

It's what makes the hallucinations so tragic at the end of season three. Those scenes can be read in a multitude of different ways. My reading of them, examining Ursa's relationship with Azula, noting that every interaction they had was shown to be confrontational, referencing "The Beach" where she did show that Ursa's relationship and abandonment did hurt her deeply, implying that she did want her affection, is this.

Ursa's neglect of Azula throughout her childhood caused Azula to develop feelings of inadequacy. This feeling pushed her to try as hard as possible to earn Ozai's affection, where she succeeded until he left her behind before the final attack in the Earth Kingdom. Coupled with Mai and Ty Lee's betrayal, this caused her feelings of inadequacy to resurface stronger than before. Everyone left her behind. Her mind conjured the image of Ursa, the origin of her feeling, saying "I love you Azula, I really do.", things we never saw her say.

I read these scenes as the hallucination saying things Azula always craved to hear. Affections that were always withheld from her, hammering away at her already fragile psyche. Reminding her repeatedly that she was never good enough for either of her parents.

So no. I don't think Azula ever needs to forgive Ursa or give her a chance and there isn't an argument that could be made to convince me. At most, I think Azula should confront her as the core of a majority of her trauma, similar to how Katara did with Yon Rah.

For me, an Azula redemption is about her coming to terms with her trauma. It's about her finding her place in a post war world. Her rebuilding her relationship with Zuko, the only family she was ever truly close with. It's about her seeing through the lies and manipulations implanted by Ozai from a young age. It's about her gaining a good, healthy support system that won't give up in her.

It's about her, in the end, finally finding peace, whatever that happens to mean for her in your particular fic. If it involves romance, that's great. A lot of people who make "shipping tier lists" rank almost every ship with Azula at the bottom, often saying things like "nobody deserves to deal with a relationship with Azula" which, as someone who grew up in an abusive household who also relates a lot to Azula, I gotta say it kind of hurts hearing people say those things. Everyone deserves love.

If your fic doesn't include romance and focuses on her familial relationships then that's also great. She definitely has a lot on her plate and building that healthy support system is an amazing route to take your fic, leading to a great heartfelt ending.

Please note, Azula's misdeeds should not be overlooked. Anyone you want to have her connect with, she will have to earn it. But I feel like it's important to understand why some people behave the way that they do. Not excuse thier actions, but to help map out how they can make up for them. That's why we were shown Zuko's tragic past while also seeing him burn down a village and threaten defenseless elderly people.

With the way she's portrayed, it easy to forget this powerful, intimidating character, is just a child. She's just 14 years old. It's something I think a lot of people who write off her character as irredeemable don't account for. Whenever I dig past her surface level "bad guy" traits with this in mind, admittedly, I'm often brought to tears. She's very much a product of her environment. It's because of that, that I think she can learn to be a better person.

To recap, an Azula redemption in no way shape or form NEEDS to include Azula trying to make the Gaang like her. It was war and every one of her actions during it have no bearing on her, from her perspective. If you want her to connect with them then you can, just don't be someone who talks bad about a redemption fic because she doesn't. 🙂

She did treat Zuko, Mai, and Ty lee very poorly as a friend and sibling. So she does owe them an apology and they are also under no obligation to give her another chance.

Ursa does not need to be forgiven, nor should it be portrayed that Ursa did nothing wrong. Azula's feelings are valid.

The core of a redemption fic (for me) is character growth, in this case for Azula.

Romance is ok in an Azula redemption fic. I personally enjoy Azutara fics where she helps Azula through her mental health recovery and trauma. Citadel is an interesting fic that takes place several years into Azula's stay in a mental institution. Here's a link if you wanna check it out. Keep in mind, it's nine years old so comic events aren't a thing 🙂 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6939866/1/5

Not having romance is equally ok. There are a multitude of great fics both post canon and AU that follow this route. Here is a fic recommendations for it. This one is an AU taking place during the war.

Her actions should not be excused because her story is a tragedy. She still did bad things.

Hopefully you all enjoyed my little ramble that I also hope is understandable. I tend to go off on tangents a lot. Considering it's 6:30 am where I'm at and I still haven't slept, this probably has horrible grammar and is likely riddled with typos. So I'm sorry about that bit lol 😅

[livlepretre]

Are there any real life moments or feelings that have made their way or informed scenes in any of your fics? Not asking about anything very deep or personal (unless you want to go there). For example, something as small as knowing specific places or sensations and using that to inform scenes better.

Oh tons and tons!

I did get lucky in two respects with writing tvd fic specifically--

I'm actually a painter in real life, so all of those details about using oil paints are from long years of personal experience, as well as all of the parts about drawing. The show is dreadfully wrong about the technicalities of how paint works, like, in just about every scenario, so it does grant me some satisfaction to write about it for real. (and to pretend that Klaus isn't an awful painter) (Writing about Elena as a writer is so much the same, though-- it's special as a writer to get to access a character who also writes, because there's that immediate connection to the process and the feelings that go with it)

The other is that the Originals happens to be set in Nola (for some reason), which I know better than any other place on earth. When I write about that, I'm really writing a love letter.

In general, I try to write about the places I really know well-- Nola and NYC are both pretty drawn out as portraits of those places just because I've spent so much time there (but, ummm, notice that all they seem to do in NY is drink and look at art, which is basically how I spent my 20s there ha) I picked Barcelona for SWBS in particular because I've actually been there, so I could write about my impressions of it (which get heightened in memory... and maybe that's a good thing for fiction) so much better than if I had picked, say, Marseilles where I've never been. That also extends to writing about the feelings certain places evoke-- the descriptions from the Met and the Frick, the air of nostalgia about them, the descriptions of the hall of broken Greek statuary, are all taken from a journal I was working in back when I was spending the winter in New York City and having a bizarrely melancholy time spending all day by myself at the Met.

Experience in the landscape is part of that. Every rural place feels different, and drawing on the physicality of the locations I've spent a lot of time hiking in like New Hampshire for example has really grounded the work. Also, paying attention to the things that are interesting-- I paint landscapes, mostly, so the shape of the land, the color and quality of the lighting, the kinds of flowers and trees and rocks, even the weight or lightness of the air itself, are all things which draw my attention anyway, so it's very natural for me to want to add them to fic-- and they all evoke really powerful sense memory for me, so I try to overlay that with any writing about emotions or introspection.

A lot of the details that fill the story in are just taken from personal interests-- like the books Elena reads in the library are almost all books I've read and loved, and which are influences one way or another on that story. Same for the hapless cooking experiments.

There's obviously also a ton in FE that I've gotten from talking to other people-- I personally have a knack for killing all plants I touch, but my mentor loves to garden, and invites me to paint in his garden all the time, so that's taken from him; I'm far too impatient for yoga or meditation, but again, that's the sort of thing my sister really benefits from, so I've talked to her about the experience of it a lot.

I think the creeping around old houses and snooping through shut in antique curiosities is like a very prime memory from my childhood. My grandfather had this ancient enormous ramshackle house from the 1860s that definitely used to be lots of different smaller buildings but were at some point seamed together; now, my grandmother was a legitimate hoarder (I'm being completely literal, like she makes the hoarders on TLC look like jokes), and there were lots of rooms that were shut off from the main part of the house because they were so full of dusty old interesting things, as well as a few outbuildings like that. My grandfather was very old, in his 90s, when I was a child, too old for him to really keep the house up, so my cousins and siblings and I used to run wild all through this house playing hide and go seek in those shut off rooms and corridors and finding lots of weird and inexplicable objects my grandmother had bought at auction back in the 50s and 60s and piled up high at the house. There were six hundred year old vases mixed in with old record players from the 60s, sewing kits from the 30s and boxes full of letters my great-grandfather had written and little statuettes from India and China and Vietnam sitting atop little two hundred year old painted tables. Just the wildest mix of mundane artifacts from my grandparents' actual lives mixed in with all of these beautiful old objects my grandmother used to collect. I think a lot of Elena's creeping around and hunting through drawers and going down corridors to peer into secret rooms probably stems from that childhood immersed in my grandfather's house, and then all of the time I spent as a teenager helping my mom go through it all and try to make sense of it after he died-- there's probably a weird level of specificity to the names and mechanics of different antique objects and furnitures in FE because I had to learn all about it to help my mom categorize and sell all of those things.

And that kind of takes me to one of the main things I really wanted to write about in this fic-- a detailed and empathetic dive into depression. It's never sat well with me that depression is so often so poorly depicted in media, especially on tv, and that it gets treated like a story arc (tvd season 4 is one of the worst offenders in this regard-- Elena's depression and grief from her brother dying is like a 4 episode arc and it's offensive). I had very severe depression as a teenager, compounded with a lot of grief, and I will probably always be melancholy because some things are just indelible. As a teenager, I was very much so hemmed in by death, and I was very frightened all the time; I was really broken by that experience, and I used to think the loneliness had sunk so deep inside of me that I couldn't even feel lonely anymore, or wish for anyone else. I was probably about 26 before I finally healed from this. These feelings are all probably major reasons why I'm drawn to Elena Gilbert as a protagonist, and why I read her as I do-- I know there are a lot of people who disagree with my interpretation of her, and it's possible that I am so convinced of my character reading of her because I was 20 and still battling in the heart of all of that trauma from my teen years and I felt a resonance with her. So, in writing FE in particularly, and SWBS to a lesser extent, I wanted to write about depression as honestly, openly, and lovingly toward the depressed as I could. I also wanted to write about loneliness, and grief, and what it's like to emerge from those things-- slowly, painfully, with lots of stumbles and hard, hard days. I can recognize that the depictions of depression in FE are ultimately just a reflection of my own personal experience wrestling with it-- but I'm trying to tell an ultimately hopeful story, capable of staring down into the deepest darkness and still clawing its way up into the light. Learning to write honestly about these feelings was hard-- I was so used to protecting myself and pretending that I wasn't something that had once been smashed to pieces that I found myself downplaying the emotions in my writing, being less honest. There came a point there where I realized this story was only ever going to be what I wanted it to be if I did get really honest, as much as possible. I often think of this story as being especially dedicated to the readers who recognize that experience-- and I hope it does, ultimately, read as a story about healing, as dark as it is.

[madamewriterofwrongs]

“Let’s share my coat, since you’re so cold.” For Buddie plz bc imagine the potential 💛🥺

So sorry about the long wait, my darling. I hope you enjoy <3

Hold My Hand When No One’s Looking

911/Buddie

Honestly, Eddie hadn’t noticed it right away. He and Buck were relatively the same size (though the other man was a bit wider in the chest and arms) and spent much of their day in uniforms. It also so happened that the two of them had similar styles when it came to their civilian clothing. There was a lot of denim and a lot of circle-necked shirts in their shared wardrobe.

He’d known that asking Buck to move in with him would mean surrendering to the fact that everything he owned would slowly become ‘theirs’. His favourite show became their late-night binge, his unhealthy snack choices mysteriously disappeared whenever Buck was left alone to babysit Christopher, and one time he swore that his toothbrush had been moved – though he’d never been able to prove it. But Eddie didn’t mind, not really. Buck had already stolen his heart, so he’d happily let him steal the rest of his life.

Telling Carla that very thing when she’d asked him about his mismatched socks had earned him a side-splitting laugh and a text to Buck, who later teased him mercilessly for the rest of the week.

He still had no regrets about letting him in.

Because that was what you did where there was love and trust. You didn’t mind sharing because you had someone who wanted to share with you in the first place.

He was even becoming better at opening up about personal things. He still struggled to admit when he was scared or upset about something because for so long, he’d understood that expressing his feelings wasn’t his job. Though he knew better now, it was still a monumental task for Eddie to share some anecdote about his childhood or speak up when Buck said something that struck an errant nerve.

But it was worth it, he vowed. It was worth it to try, and he didn’t mind sharing those things with Buck. He didn’t think he minded sharing anything with his partner.

That is to say: he was fine, until he searched through his closet one morning, scrambling to get to work on time because someone had hit the snooze button one too many times.

“Where is my grey sweatshirt?” He threw the pile of clothes from the closet floor to the bed. “Where are any of my sweatshirts?”

“Laundry?” Buck called from the bathroom, poking his head out with a toothbrush still dangling from his lips.

“There’s no way I got every single one of my sweatshirts dirty since the last time I did the laundry.” As he continued his search, he could hear Buck rinse and spit before beginning his morning routine of styling his hair with way too much product for Eddie’s liking (though he’d never complain because it gave him a chance to play with his hair throughout the day until it was exactly to his preferences). Sure enough, he found a collection of clothes in the hamper that definitely resembled his but he did not remember wearing.

Though he did remember watching Buck spill ketchup on a grey sweater that looked suspiciously like his.

How had he not noticed before? How long had Buck just been taking clothes out of his closet? Why hadn’t he bothered to ask first? He would have been happy to share – well maybe not elated but he wouldn’t have minded – but for Buck to just take them without permission (and then get them dirty)? It bothered him more than he thought it should have.

He wants to wear your clothes, the untamed romantic portion of his brain swooned.

He’s stretching out your shirts without asking, the frantic portion grumbled as he searched for a wearable sweatshirt from the pile of clothes that had apparently become communal without his knowledge.

“Did you find it?” Buck reentered the bedroom, now looking much more put together than Eddie felt.

“I found something.” He grumbled as he threw the black shirt over his head, grimacing at the old clothes smell that lingered on the fabric. “When we get home, you’re doing laundry.”

Buck squawked as he threw on his own – clean – shirt. “Why do I have to do it?”

Because it’s your fault I don’t have any clothes to wear. If he’d had time, he might have launched into a lecture about why this small thing frustrated him so much. But alas, they were already running behind, so he silenced them both with a kiss.

“No complaints.” He gently ordered, smirking at the way Buck immediately melted under his touch. It was a nice reminder that the feeling of adoration was very much mutual between them.

“Okay.”

“Let’s go.” He smacked Buck on the behind as they stumbled out the bedroom door. “If we’re late again, Bobby will make us scrub the truck with a toothbrush. Again.”

After that morning, it was as though Eddie became hyperaware of how often Buck wore his clothes. At least twice per week, he’d find his favourite t-shirt in the back of his boyfriend’s closet, or search for several minutes only to discover someone else’s ass in his only clean jeans.

Once, he’d grabbed one of Buck’s pants in protest, but spent the entire day pulling at the inseam and ended up rolling the pantlegs just to avoid tripping.

And yet, when the boy with the giraffe legs wore his pants, it looked hot.

Did it look hot? Of course, Eddie had surrendered to his physical attraction to Buck long ago. Nearly anything that man wore would get him going. Was there something about seeing Buck in his clothes that made him look exceptionally appealing?

The day he pulled one of his nicer dress shirts over his head, only to find the sleeves had been completely stretched (and there were definitely a few seams missing) was the day he decided that no amount of sexiness would let him forgive Buck for stealing his clothes.

Maybe it was petty of him to start hiding his good clothes. And maybe it was immature to start separating their laundry – not to mention a waste of water – but at least he knew he’d have his own clean clothes to wear. It wasn’t like Buck was lacking for wardrobe. The man took up the majority of their shared closet with his selections. “Something for every occasion.” He’d told Eddie. Which made it all the more confusing that he would want to take from Eddie’s meager pile.

“Hey, Eddie, can I borrow your green long sleeve?” He asked as he searched the closet for the item without waiting for a reply. Of course, Eddie knew that he wouldn’t find the shirt amongst its brethren because he’d hidden it in a bin under the bed for this exact occasion.

At least he’s finally asking for permission. Too late for him, now.

“I don’t have a green long sleeve.” Eddie continued to dress with the picture of innocence masking his satisfied smirk.

“I’m sure you do.” Buck mumbled as he headed towards the dresser (also 70% Buckley). “I wore it to Bobby’s BBQ three weeks ago.”

“Oh, so he admits to wearing my clothes.” His mumbled sarcasm was intended to only pacify his own needs, but unfortunately, his boyfriend had excellent hearing at the most inconvenient of times.

“What do you mean ‘he admits’?”

Well, Eddie glanced at the alarm clock to confirm they had just enough time to get into their discussion, he might as well bring it up now instead of months in the future when it had grown into an even worse frustration and festered into every aspect of their relationship. Or they could nip it in the bud now.

Despite the topic of discussion, he was still surprised when he gave a long sigh and turned around only to find a very shirtless Buck standing before him. He was only momentarily distracted by the smooth lines and soft, exposed skin – he was only human – but he recovered with most of his dignity intact.

“You have so many clothes but you always wear mine. Why?”

Of course, Buck looked sheepishly adorable, and perhaps a little confused at the hostility being directed towards him. “I like your clothes. I didn’t think you minded.”

“Well I do mind. You keep stretching the fabric and then you get them dirty and I have nothing to wear.” Eddie was proud of his composure in the face such a stunned and sweetly wide-eyed expression.

“Oh, I-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

The logical portion of his brain knew very well that if Eddie simply told Buck that this was bothering him, he’d stop immediately. Why it took him so long to bring it up and then felt surprised by the outcome, he still wasn’t sure. One look at the sincerity on his boyfriend’s face and him reaching an arm to summon him to his side.

Buck took his hand immediately, letting himself stumble into Eddie’s embrace and throw his arms around his waist with practiced ease. This was comfortable. This, he could do: hold Buck close and tell him the truth.

“I don’t like that you didn’t ask me first if you could borrow my clothes. That bothers me more than a few ruined shirts (although, I’m still not letting you wear my green long sleeve. It’s one of my favourite shirts and I’d like to preserve some of the shape).” Buck opened his mouth to call out his lie from moments earlier but wisely closed it a moment later. “Just ask, okay?”

The man in his arms quickly nodded, a shy smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ll ask before borrowing your clothes again.”

He knew he was being too cheeky for his own good, but how could he resist those kissable lips? “I’m sorry, I’m what, now?” Buck scrunched his face, preparing to protest, silenced a moment later by Eddie pulling him just close enough for their lips to meet.

Kissing Buck had quickly become one of Eddie’s favourite past times. A quick peck at work, a long reunion after a long day, a sloppy smooch against the truck after one of them had consumed too much alcohol but they were both drunk on each other (and he’d wisely kept that particular nugget of poetry to himself, lest he face more ridicule). The largest change when taking the sidestep from ‘best friends’ to ‘lovers’ had been their level of physical contact, which had always been comfortably close. Now, there was no space between them. No barriers.

But they still had to wear their own clothes. That was where Eddie drew the line when it came to sharing their lives. It was an arbitrary line, to be sure, but it was one to which he held firm. As predicted, Buck was quick to respect the line and stick mostly to his own wardrobe. When he asked to borrow a dress shirt or shorts, he made a habit of coming up behind Eddie and wrapping his arms around his middle, gently murmuring his clothing request in Eddie’s ear like a salacious secret. Was it a dirty move? Absolutely. Did Eddie cave every single time? Without a doubt. Did he respect that his boyfriend exploited his weaknesses? Somehow, it made him love him more. He also respected that Buck didn’t abuse his super power for every clothing item. He accepted Eddie’s distaste for ill-fitting clothing and always turned to his wardrobe first.

Miraculously, many of Buck’s clothes started getting thrown in the donation hamper – almost as though he hadn’t worn them in months or years and no longer had need of them. Soon enough, their wardrobe had evened out and Eddie could actually mark the distinction between his and Buck’s side of the dresser.

Suddenly he could breathe again.

“It wasn’t about the clothes.” Eddie informed him one night as they lay in bed.

Of course, Buck propped up on his elbows to face Eddie despite the darkness. “What wasn’t?”

“The clothes borrowing thing.”

“The clothes borrowing things wasn’t about the clothes?” It was understandable to hear confusion in his voice.

“I brought it up to Frank the other day. And we talked about why it bothered me so much.”

“You said that I was stretching out your clothes (which I’m choosing to take as a compliment, by the way).” As a show of comfort, Eddie ran a hand under the sleeve of Buck’s night shirt, only to laugh when his boyfriend pulled away a moment later. “Why are your hands always so cold?”

“Not all of us are a furnace.” He gently reminded, knowing it would go completely unmarked by the human stove. “And while I am definitely not a fan of you stretching my shirts, it wasn’t actually about that.” One thing he loved about Buck from long before their romance began, was his ability to wait for Eddie to gather the courage to continue speaking. He rarely prompted or interjected when time stretched between them; he gave Eddie the space to find the words.

“It felt like I was losing a part of myself when I saw you in my clothes.” Surely, he could find more words than that. “When I look around this room – when I look around the house – I see us. I see you and Christopher making a pillow fort even though I told you not to take the cushions off the couch. I see me and my son trying to bake a cake for your birthday and actually making one that was edible.”

“Well”

“Are you going to tell Christopher that you hated the cake he made you?”

It was a cheap shot but it hit its mark every single time. “Wow.”

“I see you and me getting ready in the bathroom the first time I told you I loved you.”

It was one of his fondest memories, and one he would treasure forever; the day he’d been brushing his teeth beside Buck, staring at the man who’d come to mean so much to him, and the words tumbled out (along with a glob of foam) before he’d realized how true they were.

“We are all over this house and I love that. But my clothes? They were this thing that was just mine – one little thing I didn’t have to share. And when you took them without asking, it was like you were taking more than just my shirt. If that makes sense.” Clearly, he was out of practice with this sort of discussion (and he ever had this sort of discussion?) because the rambling was making him lightheaded.

“It does.” He could feel his boyfriend shift in the moonlight to something less than a hover, relaxing onto his shoulder so they both faced the ceiling but still felt connected to each other. “And I never meant to make you feel that way. I guess it was that cliched thing where I like smelling like you and having a piece of you with me all the time.” Eddie willed his beating heart to calm.

“Buck, we live and work together, how are you not sick of having me around?”

Another wonderful thing about dating Buck was his newfound ability to feel his eyes on him from across the room. Even in the middle of an emergency, he could look up and find Buck and know what they needed to do. When he was at his side, the stare was overwhelming.

“I will never get sick of you.” Buck’s voice was filled with more emotion than Eddie had words to describe and yet he knew exactly how he felt. “But I won’t wear your clothes anymore.”

His instinct was to protest, to concede to Buck and let him have whatever would make him happy. It had been his instinct for most of his life: make sacrifices so his loved ones would be happy.

You are allowed to have what you want. Buck will still be happy.

He found Buck’s lips in the darkness. “Thank you.”

--

The scene was a mess. One kitchen fire had spread to several houses before emergency services were even called – Buck admired that the neighbours had all tried to deal with the problem themselves; Eddie thought they were idiots for trying to douse the grease fire with water and then continue to pour water when the flames grew higher. It was a simple enough task to put out the flames and get everyone to safety but it left foam and shivering bodies and bits of debris scattered from the lawn to the street. The cleanup took longer than the rescue, completely unaided by the mid-day son beating down on the scene, melting both foam and firefighter with equal measure.

Mercifully, Bobby was the first to remove his jacket and throw it on the pavement so he could work with more ease, leading the way for his crew to strip off their heavy turnout gear and throw it in a pile. While their equipment wasn’t any less boiling to the touch, they were at least given this small reprieve while they continued to work.

And if Buck and Eddie were separately caught distractedly watching their boyfriend work in their form-fitting pants and sweat-soaked shirts, that was an added bonus of just doing their job.

Once they were finally in a position to leave (after doling a few lectures and congratulations to the civilians who’d tried really hard and only made things worse), the crew grabbed their coats from the pile and headed back to the trucks. Eddie would never admit it, but sometimes, he was distracted by the mere sight of Buck. The blond was teased constantly for his so-called ‘heart eyes’ whenever he thought no one was looking, but Eddie knew he was just as bad. It was difficult not to – considering his partner’s attractive physical features – but even to admire Buck’s enthusiasm and heart were unavoidable when he let himself enjoy a moment of peace.

Life since they’d begun their romance had been calm in a way Eddie never imagined his life to be – because there never really was a moment of calm, and yet it was the most serene he’d felt in a very long time. Every day was an adrenaline rush of emergency calls and worrying for his son. He still awoke with nightmares of the past and future reminding him that every one of his failings had consequences. His wounds still ached in the daylight and his life was constantly in peril. He still stumbled over milestones when it came to raising Christopher without the mother of his child, and no amount of forgiveness could completely erase the shame he felt in asking for help. But through it all, through every loss and victory both at work and at home, he didn’t feel alone. He had a partner in all things who loved his son and tried every day to be there for the two of them.

He wished he could say he wasn’t surprised at how well Buck fit into their domestic lives but it had never occurred to him to imagine it until he was asking his boyfriend of six months to move into his home because so many of his things were there anyways. The first morning he awoke to fresh coffee and the smoke alarm screeching in his ear, it somehow sealed his fate: he and Buck fit comically well together.

And the man knew him in a way no one had (not his wife, not parents, not any friend he’d ever had). He liked to think he knew Buck just as well but he enjoyed every time that he discovered something new about his partner. It sent a shiver of delight through his bones when he realized that he never wanted to stop learning about this man who made him feel happy.

He did, however, need to talk to Bobby about ordering a new jacket because his current one was much too big, especially in the shoulder area. Which was odd because he didn’t remember having that problem earlier. Of course, Eddie rolled his eyes, he must have grabbed the wrong coat – probably Buck’s – which would explain his sudden lack of stature. As he swung the offending item off his back, he searched for his partner in order to toss the coat in his face (as one does when one is hopelessly in love with a dork), only to stop short when he finally caught sight of him.

Whether by accident or design, Buck had grabbed Eddie’s coat and was proudly wearing it as he went about his normal duties, completely unaware that the sleeves were just a little too short, and the back was stretched a little too tightly. In fact, it was stretched taut in a manner that displayed the LAFD logo and bright stripes for all to see; and right underneath was Eddie’s last name. Four letters he’d seen all his life were suddenly given a different meaning.

‘Diaz’ had never been just his, it has always been something he shared: first with his family, and then Shannon, and then to Christopher the moment he held his son in his arms. He had been lectured by May once about the concept of ownership and the woman having to take the husband’s last name as though she belonged to him. He was well away of the history of name changes in marriages and significance in contemporary society of couples choosing different ways to express their commitment to one another. Call him old fashioned – and he knew that he was – but he had never seen Shannon taking his last name as a symbol of ownership; to Eddie, it meant that they were a family. A clan. Together in all things. There was a sense of pride in knowing that his name would live on when he was gone and that he was able to share this thing with the people he cared for most.  

As if it were nothing at all, there was Buck, walking around in public with the name Diaz on display. Anyone who didn’t know them might believe that was his name. What would Buck say if a stranger called him ‘Mr. Diaz’ or ‘Firefighter Diaz’? Would he blush and smile, would he vehemently correct them, would he brush it off but realize he didn’t want to be associated with that name ever again?

Did he want that? Did he want Buck associated with his last name? There was no guarantee when they got married that either of them would change their names. Maybe, they could hyphenate.

When they got married.

Eddie didn’t ask for his jacket back.

--

Later, when someone asked him how dinner went, Eddie would have no earthly idea what they even ordered. He remembered confirming with Buck that they had reservations for their anniversary dinner, he remembered Hen picking up Christopher for his overnight playdate, he remembered kissing Buck against the bathroom door when he emerged in his dress shirt and tie, he remembered driving to the restaurant too afraid to hold his boyfriend’s hand because his palms were suspiciously clammy.

It was just a dinner at a nicer restaurant to celebrate their anniversary together. They’d had one of these already and a million dates in between. Yet it sent his heart racing every time. Not only was he a fan of Buck when he dressed to the nines (he loved that man in everything and nothing, but the tight dress pants were a treat) but it was also a celebration of their time together. Of how far they’d come as a couple and as individuals. Going out in public came with a small amount of anxiety and guilt, of course, but they’d worked through every setback as partners and would continue to do so.

On their first official date, Eddie had called Buck at 3am to inform him that they could never see each other again because he was betraying his wife’s memory by moving on. Another time, they had run into one of Buck’s previous conquests who was alarmingly cavalier about their sex history but incredibly judgmental about Buck’s current situation. Introducing Buck to his parents was more than a little nerve-racking (though significantly better than meeting the Buckleys for the first time) but had turned out amiably enough when they saw how much Eddie and Christopher cared for the man – and more importantly, how much Buck cared about Christopher.

Christopher had been his saving grace in so many ways, not the least of which was figuring out how to introduce Buck at school functions. ‘Boyfriends’ was the term they used most often but it still felt juvenile whenever he said it out loud. ‘Lover’ had made both of them double over in laughter, and ‘special friend’ was off the table before it had left his mouth. Though he’d never said it out loud, Eddie was saying the term ‘Partner’ for a special occasion.

The first time Eddie had brought Buck to the afterschool pick up so his teachers could meet the other adult with special permission to care for Christopher, he’d stressed to the point of tearing a small hole in the steering wheel cover about what to call him.

And then Christopher had run into his best friend’s arms and introduced everyone to ‘His Buck’ as though that name was the only explanation anyone needed. But it did the trick. Everyone greeted him with kindness and respect and when one of the teachers asked Eddie if this was, indeed, ‘His Buck’, all he’d been able to do was blush and nod.

They’d overcome every little thing that life had thrown their way. They could get through one little dinner.

“You have been fidgety all night.” Buck teased through another mouthful of garlic bread. Or maybe they couldn’t. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.” He lied. “I’m just tired. Long shift.”

“Boring shift. Four false alarms, seven car accidents, and one heart attack. I would have killed for a house fire or even someone stuck in a tree.”

“How would they have gotten stuck in a tree?”

Buck shrugged, stuffing another loaf into his mouth. “Maybe they were skydiving but the wind picked up and they got carried away.”

They continued their hypothetical discussion (which turned to the topic of craziest saves, most disgusting encounters, and most obvious lies) until their shared appetizer arrived and he realized how at ease he felt despite his earlier tension. That was another miraculous thing about being with Buck. Without meaning to – for he did it far too often to be intentional – he could pull Eddie from whatever wave was threatening to pull him under and keep him company by just being himself. They would talk and laugh and find companionship with one another until suddenly, the waves had subsided.

“Where’s my phone?” Buck patted his entire body, despite only possessing two pockets in which he could fit his cell. Upon finding nothing, he concluded “I must have left it in the truck, I’m just going to go grab it.”

When Buck reached for Eddie’s jacket pocket, knowing the keys were always in the right, Eddie felt a new wave of panic suddenly submerge him and he shouted “Don’t touch that!” too loudly for anyone at the adjoining tables to misunderstand him.

The way his boyfriend instantly paled, told him that no one had misunderstood his harsh reaction. Buck released the jacket, letting it fall to the ground, but hesitated to grab it. A thousand curses and warning bells echoed through Eddie’s mind, knowing full well how far his partner’s mind could travel down a dangerous path before he ever reached him.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” he sputtered. “I know we talked about the clothes thing, I just forgot.” Only then did he finally reach a hand to take the jacket on the tasteless restaurant carpet. “Can I grab-”

“No.” He snatched the offending object before Buck could finish his sentence; flinging it away with such force that the contents of his pockets spilt onto the floor. Another curse barely left his lips before both men were on their hands and knees, scrambling to retrieve the objects.

Buck found it first.

“What’s this?”

Eddie froze with a hand on his keys, eyes locked on his partner – his best friend – holding the small velvet box that had once been housed in his jacket pocket. Abandoning all else, Eddie crawled to meet Buck beside the table. He breathlessly watched the other man examine the box, feeling the edges with sharp anticipation

A voice that wasn’t his own whispered in the space between them “open it.” With medical gentility, Buck pulled open the lid and Eddie watched his expressions shift as understanding took hold.

He’d been so careful, to the point of paranoia, about picking out the perfect ring. There had been incognito browser searches, late-night chats with Hen about same-sex protocol (for which he repaid her with many cups of espresso), and one very anxious expedition to the jewelers to find the perfect one. And right at the finish line, he fumbled over his own two feet.

The only memory that mattered, though, was the look in Buck’s eyes when he saw the ring and realized what it symbolized to both of them. What Eddie was asking for wasn’t marriage: it was everything. A life of sharing their darkest selves and celebrating every triumph. Being both an individual and a pair in equal measure – partners in every sense. Respect and trust and joy would become home, security would be a given; everything was asked with that circle bonding them together.

“I’m sorry for grabbing your jacket.” Buck whispered when he finally looked away from the box in his shaking hands. The laugh that escaped Eddie was barely more than a cry of barely restrained tears but it brought a smile to both their faces.

“It’s okay.” Neither could look away now that they’d found each other in the silence. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice. Did Maddie help you pick it out?”

“She offered when I went to ask for her blessing but this was all me.”

“You asked for her blessing? How traditional.”

“I’m a traditional kind of guy.”

“I know. Sophia told me what you did to her first boyfriend.”

“It was only meant to scare the guy. How was I to know he had asthma?”

“He was 15, you shouldn’t have done it anyway. I think it might be illegal now.”

“Oh my god.” Both men looked up at the waitress standing over them with their food in hand. “Will you ask him already?” A few chuckles from curious onlookers reminded them that they were still kneeling in the middle of a restaurant with Buck holding the ring he wasn’t meant to see yet.

The blush that crept on his partner’s face matched his own, but Eddie’s only focus was on fulfilling the server’s request.

“Marry me, Buck?”

His smile outshone the entire city of Los Angeles.

“Yes.”

As cheers erupted around them, Eddie scooted across the carpet to pull his fiancé into a kiss saturated with joy and laughter. His hands fairly shook as they clasped Buck’s cheeks to hold them steady but nothing else matter to him but that smile.

Slipping the engagement band onto his finger was prolonged by the trembling in both their hands but with time, he stared down at the circle, knowing it was finally where it belonged.

He only realized he had stared for too long when the waitress cleared her throat to grab their attention.

“If you folks wouldn’t mind taking your seats; these plates are kinda hot.” The men scrambled back into their booth, offering copious apologies to the woman who simply rolled her eyes and told them that dessert would be on the house. A handful of patrons offered their congratulations but Eddie rarely turned his attention away from the man across from him. Every time their eyes met for the rest of the night, he could feel the dopey-eyed grin that refused to melt away. He hoped it never did.

The evening had not gone the way he’d planned in any shape of the word but for years to come, he would relish in telling the story of their engagement, and of the full lives they shared together.

[hanijunk]

Alright boys, girls, and nonbinary folks of the world. It’s 5:36am (1/30 when I first started) as I decide to give up on my attempt to continue to focus on learning statistics, avoid studying for my two upcoming midterms, and put off my two actual essays for two different classes.

Instead we’re going into a dive about ✨ KazuFuuma ✨ . Is this me telling you you gotta ship it? No of course not, you’re entitled to your own ships! You don’t really gotta care about it as a ship. But I do want people to recognize it’s THERE canonically, and how disregarding it is extremely unfair to Kazuki as a character particularly. Also, I’m working on the assumption anyone clicking this at least knows the bare bones about what KazuFuuma (ex. You know they are a ship of Kazuki/Fuuma from Dolce, you know they are childhood friends, you know who Dolce is, you know about Honeyworks, etc.) I’ll be making references to specific things, but I won’t always go into heavy detail. Might just hope you know it or take my word for what it is, and go into analyzing it. Some I’ll put direct references to find, but some I’ll trust you can find it yourself. If you somehow read this MAMMOTH and want reference to a specific thing mentioned, hmu I can help you find it!!

Also I hate tumblr formatting sm if you legit wanna read this 7 page essay but hate tumblr format lmk I'll add it as a google doc link instead too. anYWHO

Before actually getting into the meat of things lemme preface some stuff.

Again it’s like almost 6am so this will be disorganized and very train of thought (and likely long due to the fact when I fly by the seat of my pants I’m known to get unnecessarily extensive). It’s definitely gonna be in large part why it’s important to recognize as a romantic relationship foundation and what about it shapes Kazuki’s character in particular. Maybe a bit of how it’s been built up and its general focus and implications. Dunno yet. We’ll see LMAOO

I say f*ck. Not a lot, just a handful of times. This ain’t something scholarly this is for my own enjoyment so if you don’t like that might not wanna read. And it’s not like spitefully I just curse a lot if you haven’t...read my tags before lol

Again this is through the lens of a Kazuki stan. Of COURSE I’m going to have some level of bias, but if anything that bias may help more than hurt because that means I become FIXATED and think a lot about Kazuki. Which plays into establishing just how important it is that Kazufuuma’s relationship is recognized, especially in a romantic light at this point. Lmfao. 

I’ll have a few more prefaces about the actual content below but to keep this from getting too long if you wanna read come below the cut owo

I have extremely limited knowledge of Japanese just taking a few classes in highschool (so like 3 yrs ago) and live in America. This means a lot of my knowledge is gathered through the english translations of the super duper incredible and lovely people in the Honeyworks fandom who provide translations (delaix and takanenene esp have provided so much for me being able to understand Dolce) and my own limited Japanese paired with Google Translate for things that remain untranslated.

This only will be drawing on information I have come in contact with and have access to and making assumptions based on that, most (if not all) of which is in the public domain. So things like the Dolce Manga Volumes released via Animate, exclusive 4komas, and Light Novels are out of my area for the most part (apart from again snippets of translations thanks to this fandom’s godlike and generous translators).

I will not be drawing on anything from the first Dolce album with the exception of Nade Nade. From a meta standpoint, I consider those songs as songs made as performance media as opposed to character explorations. Nade Nade is the exception because (1) it was released a whole year before the album and (2) you can tell it’s explicitly an exploration of Fuuma and Kazuki’s interpersonal relationship even if it’s in a slightly more performance based context than the songs that came out with the Dolce LNs. Easiest parallel I can make to show this is if you held Non-Fantasy, Yume Fanfare, and Samishigariya up against each other, you could tell the difference in intended audience and intended purpose the same way the Dolce 1st album, Nade Nade, and the songs of the LNs do respectively. Even if there is some basis to ground Kazufuuma, for the purposes of this essay I’ll be acting under the assumption the 1st album falls under the Non-Fantasy equivalent category.

THAT WAS A LOT OF PREFACING CONSIDERING LIKE 2 PPL WILL PROBABLY READ IT I just have a tendency to anytime I do anything analytical lay down ground acknowledgements for myself to work on just...cuz it makes me feel less guilty for any accidental misinformation even if I’m writing towards my future self to read lolll IM SORRY WITHOUT FURTHER TO DO HERE’S THE BRAIN DUMP

First let’s go ahead and establish why it needs to be recognized as an important relationship. Again, I’m a Kazuki stan. He’s my favorite character not only of Dolce but also of the entire Honeyworks series, and as much as I love him for reasons outside the ship, whether you like it or not Kazufuuma is an essential aspect of his character and narrative. Of course there’s the fact that him and Fuuma are childhood friends, so that’s going to in part define their characters and interactions with each other and those around them. They’re both going to be relevant to one another and important to one another’s stories to an even greater extent than the rest of the members of Dolce. But on Kazuki’s side at least, it’s an EXTREME amount. A running plotpoint in Dolce Diary is the sheer amount of dedication Kazuki has to Fuuma and how much his thoughts and decisions are influenced by Fuuma, whether it be how he feels happiest spending time with Fuuma, how he decided to get his piercing to represent he wanted to protect Fuuma, how he doesn’t want to dislike food so he can eat what Fuuma dislikes, etc. Not to mention running jokes about his borderline overprotectiveness and downright possessiveness of Fuuma, how proud he is when Fuuma gets praised, or that one 4koma that literally explicitly states he can read Fuuma’s mind when he thinks motherfucking ‘dirty thoughts’ about his childhood friend (Fuuma). I still don’t know what the fuck to make of that last bit. Genuinely. Or the fact it’s a fucking running joke. As in it’s not a one off. It’s been brought up multiple times. Kazuki what the fuck. 

That’s not to say that he doesn’t have character outside of Fuuma or he doesn’t interact with people other than Fuuma. He’s great friends with Sara, Girisha, and Kippei and is shown time and time again to have fun interactions with all of them, generally acting as the best support friend for every member of the group, not Fuuma alone. For instance how he helps Kippei with his self confidence issues or stays over at Sara’s to protect him from a cockroach (which he fails at lol). Nor is that to say all his interactions involving Fuuma focus solely on his devotion to Fuuma, especially in instances where the manga focuses on Dolce as a group dynamic (though even in that setting there are times where jokes about his devotion are thrown in). He’s kind, he’s stupid, he’s friendly, he’s an amazing character in his own right, and I love him for all those reasons. But that doesn’t change the fact a major part of his character and his character interactions are rooted in Fuuma, and arguably some of his most interesting, eccentric, and notable behaviors and traits revolve around Fuuma (again the mind reading for example).

Hell let’s take it one step further. If you look at the character bios of the Dolce members, you get everyone’s motives for being an idol and interests. Of them, Kazuki is the only one to have another character mentioned directly, not to mention that supporting Fuuma is explicitly stated to be his primary motive as to why he became an idol. Not even Fuuma’s sister is mentioned, though two arguments can be made for this. The first would be that Fuuma’s backstory about wanting to fulfill his dream for himself and his sister was decided later to explain Fuuma’s choice to crossdress though it can be argued it was intentionally done to leave it as a reveal at a later date, to which I would argue I don’t think this backstory was a choice in post. While Fuuma’s dedicated Dolce Diary extra exploring that backstory was released a little less than a year after Dolce was revealed, the preview to set up Fuuma’s backstory was actually the first thing released after the character bios on the Dolce Official Twitter page if you exclude a drawing of Dolce from Yamako. The second argument could be that information about his sister was intentionally withheld to set up the reveal when Fuuma’s extra released to explore it. However, going by that logic (which I do agree with), that would also mean that Fuuma’s inclusion and importance in Kazuki’s character bio also set up his dedicated extra, which I don’t think would be incorrect to assume considering what his actual extra turned out being.

Which brings me to the thing that makes it inexplicable to write off the romantic implications behind Kazufuuma: Kazuki’s dedicated Dolce Diary extra, Suki. I shipped Kazufuuma before even knowing of Suki, sure. But the fact that Suki even exists is a shock to me and drove into me the fact that Kazufuuma wasn’t just my own projection. Again, it’s not a surprise that Fuuma shapes Kazuki’s life. They’re childhood friends, of course they’re going to be important to each other. But this extra explicitly brought Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma under a direct spotlight. At first I was thinking oh, this extra was just to acknowledge the fact that Kazuki and Fuuma’s relationship can have romantic implications, but the end of it the conclusion that we got was that it didn’t matter what type of “like” he felt for Fuuma. Originally, I thought it wasn’t anything more than saying there are all types of like, and it doesn’t always need to be explicitly defined, but I appreciated the fact they were aware that they were writing Kazuki in a way that conveyed romantic implications. 

Then I thought about it because, again, I love Kazuki of course I’m going to think about his character extra, and realized...that’s not how these character extras have worked. There are only three character extras out as far as I know and have read: Fuuma, Kippei, and Kazuki. If we look at Fuuma and Kippei’s, each extra had a conclusion, sure, but they didn’t have a resolution. Rather, they were simply setting up explicitly what each character’s primary character arc and conflict were. Fuuma’s extra brought attention to the fact that he’s particularly a crossdressing idol by exploring the motives behind it. His choice to be a crossdressing idol is constantly under fire both by himself and the world around him. He’s not immune to those who consider his crossdressing strange, and a part of his story is both finding people who accept his decision to crossdress and to succeed for himself as a crossdressing idol. It’s an essential part of how we understand and define him as a character and it’s a central part of how he interacts with the world around him. For Kippei, it lays the severity of his insecurity under the spotlight and his journey and motives for improving himself. Again, this isn’t something isolated and resolved in the extra; his extreme insecurity and negativity is constantly affecting how he interacts with practically everyone from his fellow Dolce members to his fans despite the fact in all honesty? He’s fucking insanely talented in his own right, his own brother mentioning how smart he is and how he has amazing reflexes. For Kippei, his negativity is an essential part of how we understand and define him and central to how he interacts with the world as much as Fuuma’s decision to crossdress is to him.

Which brings us back to Kazuki, of course. In his dedicated extra, in the chapter that’s supposed to explore and establish and bring attention to an essential part of his character, the aspect of himself under investigation is how he feels about Fuuma. It’s not just how he behaves around Fuuma, it’s explicitly an exploration of his feelings, on top of the fact it’s explicitly an exploration about whether or not he likes Fuuma r o m a n t i c a l l y. Literally the conflict is spurred on by someone outright asking “Do you like him?” and having to clarify “I mean romantically.” What they decided to focus on for Kazuki’s character and emphasize and establish is that Kazuki’s like towards Fuuma toes the line between friendship and romance. His ambiguous feelings towards Fuuma (if we leave them inconclusive as Suki did) are just like Fuuma’s crossdressing and Kippei’s insecurity in the sense the weight of whatever those feelings may be are seen in how he interacts with the world around him and influences his behaviors. It would be another story if they introduced the potential and shut it down all within the extra, because then his central conflict would to me be less directly open to romantic potential and more simply about how his arc was meant to explore the dynamic of the behavior of an extremely dedicated best friend. The fact that he may be romantically attracted to Fuuma or may be only platonically dedicated to Fuuma is instead something that looms over Kazuki in the same way Fuuma’s decision to crossdress constantly looms over him. It’s what Dolce wanted to point to and say this is Kazuki’s central character conflict and central arc: exploring what type of feelings he has towards Fuuma. 

Sure, it can be argued that there’s only three Dolce Diary character extras, there’s not enough to be sure about that being the purpose of the extras unless we get the other two’s extras. First, at this point I honestly don’t know if or when they’re going to release an extra revolving around Sara and Girisha just because not only has it been over a year and a half since the latest Dolce Diary Character Extra (Kazuki’s) was released despite the gap between the first and latest Dolce Diary Character Extra (Fuuma’s and Kazuki’s) were within a year of release but also because the Dolce 4komas and comics they’ve been posting to Twitter have decreased (last one being over half a year ago) potentially due to them deciding to focus on releasing Dolce manga content through the purchasable volumes instead. (This is not particularly related to the Kazufuuma argument, just wanted to put out there my two cents on what Sara and Girisha’s extra/focal arc would be. Based on a large part of the Dolce Diary in conjuncture with Can’t an Idol Fall in Love, I’d argue Sara’s would be his journey to regain his passion for performing, and if it’s not that I’d say it’d be coming out of his self-imposed isolation and opening up to people again. As for Girisha, I have less of a concrete idea but I’m assuming it’d be something pertaining to how people often misconceive him whether it be in tandem with his determination, his optimism and sociability, or his stupidity/ability to ignore those misconceptions and work past them. But Girisha is treated like the comedic relief 90% of the time so I’m not entirely sure, but his primary conflict is definitely rooted in misconceptions of him being his roadblock imo. #MoreGirishaContentPlz) That being said, I personally feel like the three are already enough evidence, especially considering it would be honestly even more cruel for Kazuki’s character-centric extra to be focusing on something that wasn’t essential to his character and character arc, anyway. And though it’s not explicitly stated that these chapters are extras exploring a central character, you can kind of tell based on how they are (to my knowledge) the only Dolce Diary updates with cover/title cards each which include their focal character front and center. So working off that fact, the Kazuki-centric chapter established that a pillar to his narrative was his feelings towards Fuuma and that those feelings are still open to romantic potential. 

But if you follow me, this is why up until Can’t an Idol Fall in Love With Another Idol’s release, I was terrified of them writing that off. I would have been ok if it was just an arc that was given attention then continued to actively work in the background, as all the character arcs have been over all of Dolce’s content. The fact that they might be giving Fuuma a love interest and giving Fuuma a love arc while Kazuki’s feelings were still up in the air and were still the primary highlighted narrative for him would have been fucking scuffed. To me, it would be like… why would they make him so Fuuma-centric to the point that even his dedicated chapter was not just focused on Fuuma but focused on the ambiguity and potential of him having romantic feelings for Fuuma, yet reduce him to being Fuuma's designated right-hand man. Don’t get me wrong, friendships are just as important as romantic relationships. But again, rather than conclude Kazuki’s answer in Suki to be that his feelings were of friendship, they left it open ended and allow audience members to be actively aware that Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma still had potential to be romantically coded. It would just be so weird to quickly close off that narrative by giving Fuuma a love interest as opposed to letting Kazuki conclude it himself. It would be fucking beyond frustrating for me, at least Eventually, I kept trying to drive my hopes that they would explore Kazuki’s narrative at all down to the ground because it was a Fuuma-centric novel; maybe if anything they’d explore those feelings in his own novel after the fact. But then they kept having little drops here and there of Kazuki being even the slightest bit relevant and I’d go back to questioning “Are??? They??? Is this on purpose??? Do they know what they’re doing or are they just doing this because Kazuki’s just so important to Fuuma as his best friend that he’s there as his right-hand I genuinely can’t tell???” And um. Welp.

Safe to say Can’t An Idol Fall in Love sold me on the fact that they know what they’re doing LOL. And to anyone who thinks that Kazuki’s feelings can still be read as ambiguous in CAIFILWAI as opposed to explicitly romantic - whether it be due to a fear they may pull the “I like him as a friend” card or due to the disbelief that they have an explicit mlm main character in the Honeyworks series - I’d like to cover any bases that may make you think this way. If you think it’s just Kazuki acting like a protective friend, why do you think he calls Yui a rival? If you’ve only seen the MV and think it’s ambiguous or can be taken as the "likfe" for friend, then does that mean you think Yui’s feelings toward Fuuma are also ambiguous or as a friend? With the way Yui responds, she is trying to rival Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma. She and Kazuki recognize whatever feeling it is that they hold towards Fuuma, both of their feelings are the same type. I don’t think most people would argue that Yui’s confession about Fuuma was one of pure respect and friendship. Plus, if anything I’d argue of the three characters in the MV, Fuuma is the one whose feelings are left the most ambiguous despite him being the central character. It’s heavily implied that he may be forming feelings for Yui, but nowhere is it established either in the song or in the MV, especially if you compare it to Kazuki and Yui’s declarations or if you compare it to Sara’s feelings for Uru in Can’t An Idol Fall in Love. Fuuma’s romantic narrative here is trying to figure out how he feels for Yui, while for Kazuki and Yui they’ve established a rivalry because they both have mutually established they like Fuuma romantically.

If the MV isn’t enough for you and Suki isn’t enough for you for...some reason…??? You can check out the snippets of the light novel which the wonderful takanenene translated: one which revisits the conflict set up in Suki and one that covers the confession scene in the MV in more detail. If the fact that the conflict set up in Suki (aka the lurking feeling of not knowing if all he felt for Fuuma was only platonic or more than platonic) was specifically reestablished in the LN for anyone who didn’t keep up with Dolce Diary didn’t tip you off that it was something important, his behavior in the confession scene as depicted by the LN definitely should have. He’s possessive about his spot by Fuuma’s side. He doesn’t want that spot to be taken by anyone else. Even if he knows that they can help Fuuma, he wants it to be him. And this line: “Kazuki then trails off his words, quietly saying ‘That’s why…’ and then gave Yui a slightly painful smile, his cheeks turning red,” before he declares Yui a rival and states he likes Fuuma. If you can tell me you read that line and are still on the fence about Kazuki’s “like” towards Fuuma being romantic, please message me and I will see how I can get through to you. Like it wasn’t even just a romantically coded confession. It’s just a romantic confession. That “like” is romantic. And I’m so proud that he’s not only come to understand for himself how he feels, but that he’s confident enough to ask the person he sees as a romantic rival to speak in private and not only clarify her feelings for Fuuma but before she can even do that firmly establishes that he loves Fuuma with conviction. Kazuki my boy I’m so proud of you. *sniffs*

And that’s it for establishing Kazufuuma as at least canonically one-sidedly canon and why there’s not only no reason to deny it but also why denying it is a fucking disrespectful move towards Kazuki. He’s a character, sure, but that doesn’t change the fact you shouldn’t write off his struggle to come to be convicted enough to say it out loud. This has been something weighing on him at least a year, if not more (all I know is it started when both he and Fuuma were in some year in middle school). And as a character in a piece of media, I’ve been saying this the entire time, but brushing it off as non-romantic is literally chucking a fucking pillar of his character’s story into the gutter. And to those who may be saying Kazuki’s confession came out of nowhere and is pandering reread this entire fucking essay again I dare you to do it and tell me to my face it’s pandering. Again. Writing off the buildup as pandering is disrespectful to him, disrespectful to his character and narrative, and disrespectful to the wonderful people who have been creating Dolce so diligently and have crafted this narrative for us. Saying his “supposed feelings” and “ambiguous confession” is pandering is like saying Fuuma’s crossdressing is pandering which. If you say either of those I will find you and I will shank you in the fucking gut. Even if you’re not fully into Dolce, recognize these characters are actually very well developed and executed amazingly, as per every Honeyworks character that has come to exist. I don’t blame you if you weren’t aware of the weight of Kazufuuma, but now that you read this I hope you are. That’s mainly what I needed to get out there, but as follows will be me more exploring how Kazufuuma has been built up and generally waving my hand off at where it may be going. If you want you can dip, thanks for reading up to here because I know I repeated a lot because it’s just. So important to drill into your head and has been something I’ve been hung up about constantly. LOL

As for where exactly they’re taking it from this point on, I honestly don’t know. In all honesty, I didn’t even expect them to take it the direction they did. But honestly, I think the direction they went with it is really interesting and better than I could have imagined, in my opinion at least. Honeyworks never ceases to amaze me with their storytelling and narrative choices, and I don’t think there’s any that stand out to me as being severely questionable that they haven’t reapproached at some point down the line. And, again, I think they’re treating this with a lot of care and deserved respect. So I’m just gonna be gushing about how smart they set it up and how smart they’ve been executing it and maybe my own hopes on the direction it could go.

Whether they make Kazufuuma reciprocated I have no real clue or bearings, but to me my gut reaction is they will. Of course, I’m biased, but again if you trace things all the way back to 2018 and step through Dolce’s content and growth from there, I’d say even if they didn’t know if they could execute it like this and see it to fruition, I’d argue that Kazufuuma has been at least heavily implied since the beginning as a relationship they wanted to explore from both sides of the relationship. Obviously I brought up Kazuki’s character bio already, but if you look at the *goes to count* 5th Dolce Diary update already has a joke jabbing at the fact that Kazuki is technically Fuuma’s type (and the way Kippei and Kazuki excitedly react is so cute). The fifth update. And as stated before there are tons of Kazufuuma moments in Dolce Diary, whether it’s played for comedic effect or played straight (and this is post Suki but oh my god I’ve said it before I’ll say it again get yourself someone who looks at you the way Kazuki looks at Fuuma oh my jesus). But song-wise, I mentioned the one Dolce album song I would bring up is Nade Nade and this is where it comes! 

Not only is Nade Nade specifically focused on Kazuki and Fuuma’s relationship as opposed to the whole of Dolce despite being the first song, it included the setup/preview of the Fuuma-centric extra prior to the full release of the Fuuma-centric extra itself and was released early as fuck. Literally between the 6th and 7th update to Dolce Diary. Sure, it could be to isolate them as a duo for marketing purposes (they’re very often the two promoted idols together if the whole of the group aren’t included), but the way it’s established as a perspective song as opposed to a general idol duet is what fascinates me. Anyone who didn’t know about Dolce prior and only followed Honeyworks for music would be first introduced to these characters through this song alone, and maybe this is where my Kazufuuma bias comes from but I was one of those people LOL. I thought it was just a cute one-off relationship that they had set up for the purpose of a song and that it was an implied friends-to-lovers story that would never get a conclusion. Also I mistakenly thought Fuuma was a girl oop-. In the full context of Dolce, this song in part helped establish Fuuma and Kazuki more solidly as a unique duo out of all of Dolce, but it also specifically explored through Fuuma’s eyes just how much Fuuma recognizes and appreciates the unwavering support Kazuki gives him to follow his dreams as he wishes. For Fuuma, he loves Kazuki too, though whether it holds any romantic potential in the same way Kazuki loves him has never been explored to nearly the same extent. But Fuuma appreciates how Kazuki’s remained by his side and does everything he can to support him, so Nade Nade explores how his way of expressing his love and thankfulness to Kazuki is by never saying that he needs Kazuki by his side. He’s glad Kazuki’s always been there for him, and his reciprocation takes on the form of being ready to unwaveringly support Kazuki and not ask for more than he already has, even if it meant Kazuki would be leaving his side, despite the fact that he really does wish they could remain together forever just as Kazuki does. The one point he lets himself say something vaguely close to always wanting to stay together, he gets a surprised expression out of Kazuki and says an ambiguous “suki dayo.” Of course, this it much less romantically coded than what we get from Kazuki in Suki and CAIFILWAI, but there is an interesting emphasis put on it nonetheless. Keep in mind, this is all established through the song, which released long before not only Fuuma’s character-centric extra released but also Kazuki’s character-centric extra released, so there is at least a substantial setup for Fuuma’s feelings towards Kazuki’s being strong as well and possibly grow to be reciprocated one day.

I think for me the most fascinating part about Nade Nade is how they tied it back around to Can’t An Idol Fall In Love with Another Idol. Again, without remembering Nade Nade, I still thought CAIFILWAI was brilliantly explored and executed, even if some people would have preferred no love triangle. But honestly, revisiting Nade Nade makes me trust even more the direction they’re taking with this. Whether or not they make Kazufuuma canon mutually (which. Even if they for some inexplicable reason didn’t I’m going down with this ship.), I’m sure they’re putting a lot of thought into the story, because the last bit of Nade Nade directly parallels the misunderstanding that arose from Fuuma mishearing the Kazuki and Yui. Fuuma is resolved to support Kazuki in any area he’s given the chance, and that explicitly includes if Kazuki had some girl he liked, which is what he assumes is going on. The fact that they tied this back around in the form of a misunderstanding was really really smart and Honeyworks is always so good at parallels and references back to their older songs, but for some reason I didn’t expect this. I don’t know how to say why, but the fact that the song that started it all, kicked off both Dolce and Kazufuuma, was directly referenced both visually in the MV with a cameo at the start and narratively despite the central dynamic being predominantly explored in this story in particular was that of Fuuma and another potential love interest and involves said potential love interest for some reason makes me think that (sorry Yui) this is all planned out for Kazufuuma in the grand scheme of things. That being said, I don’t know if me thinking it was planned all along is just me with shipper goggles, but the idea it’s come full circle nearly 3 years later is not shipper goggles and a very very well done parallel in my opinion, whether this trajectory was their plan for Kazufuuma from the beginning or not. Just wanted to gush about that some more. 

There’s more I could go into especially if I went into specific details about interactions or specific implications established in Honeyworks' Dolce content about different characters that would be fascinating to explore in relation to and under the lens of Kazufuuma, but I think this is uh...plenty long enough. Plus, I doubt you'll stop seeing Kazufuuma posts from me so those ideas will probably just be miniposts or somethin.

Back to the overarching point of this segment, idk what they’ll do with this story in the end, but do I think Kazufuuma will canon? I’m used to looking at ships that aren’t explicitly apparent with a sliver of skepticism, but all things considered (as I stated before) yeah. I don’t see reason why they wouldn’t now that they’ve explicitly identified there is a romantic dimension to it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Like to me, the setup isn’t something that would be written off as unrequited? And this doesn’t have to play into why I don’t think it will canon, my personal opinion on the Fuuyui relationship (again albeit through the lens of a hard Kazufuuma shipper lmao) has it’s own merits and is really cute, I find it cute in the way I found Koyuhina cute. I personally never really shipped Koyuhina, and especially since they slipped Kotarou into Ima Suki Ni Naru I was more curious about who this kid was and how he played into things I didn’t really see Koyuhina as something that would come to fruition. Similarly, there’s more importance in the overall sense on Kazuki than there is Yui (considering he’s one of the 5 original and focal members of this generation of idols, this would be natural), as well as the fact there’s just way more foundation and exploration in Fuuma and Kazuki’s relationship than there is Fuuma and Yui. As for how much of a balance there is inside the LN itself, the fact that they seem to have spent a substantial amount relaying the foundation of Fuuma and Kazuki’s relationship and re-exploring it (at least in Kazuki’s perspective) at all on top of how much content there is covering their relationship prior to the LN ever since Dolce’s origin just feels like that relationship holds more weight. Pretty much Kazufuuma feels more established as a priority in general. The way I personally hope Fuuyui plays out is whether they wind up holding mutual feelings or not or whether Fuuma doesn’t feel that way towards Yui is they get a relationship akin to Kotarou and Arisa. Albeit, Kotarou and Arisa never viewed each other in a romantic light, but they had mutual respect and solidarity. That’s the type of friendship I hope comes out of Fuyui. And considering there hasn’t been a break-up in any Honeyworks’ canon relationships (nor do I expect there to be… they’re all perfect for each other LMAO) it would actually be interesting if Fuuyui get together but don’t endgame and Kazufuuma is established as the inseparable endgame after some realization or another, though I don’t expect them to go that route nor do I know if that’d be the best way to go about it anyway. Also final point, Honeyworks seems to have a thing for childhood friends trope anyway soooooo owo All in all, don’t know where they’re taking it, just excited to see where it goes. 

TL;DR of this *counts* 7 page essay, stan Kazufuuma. Not gonna proof this. Maybe I’ll edit and repost but yall are getting a confusing clusterfuck of ramblings over 2-3 hr periods of me writing across 3 different days at around 5am each day. Uh. If you got this far like and subscribe and-- jk plz reply to this mammoth anywhere you see fit or tell me if you have stuffs to add or counter or whatnot I like hearing people talk about Kazufuuma ;w; I am Kazuki and Kazufuuma brainrot can you tell after reading this? No? Lemme just remind you I’m K--

[meimae]

Look at me, not being on time for my April Immersion Overview as is the usual. (・w・;

First, little blog updates to get out of the way:

I reached 100 followers! Got an influx of people checking out my 1 year update post, and got plenty of nice compliments on my data collection.

For those of you wondering just why I keep up with so much data, it's mostly because it can get really hard to notice how much you're improving in a language especially with something like immersion learning that for people who don't get it feels like a waste of time or a time sink.

Graphs showing consistency, improvement in reading speed, increasing vocabulary counts, and generally just seeing numbers grow turns language learning more fun and motivating for me, and if as a bonus, it encourages someone to try immersion learning then that would be cool!

With that said, whether you're here as a fellow language learner, graphs enthusiast (笑), or just want some Japanese media recommendations, ようこそ! 

Also, made a tiny DP change - it’s チト from 少女週末旅行. Pretty sure it’s the first manga series I ever finished in Japanese (not the first one I started since ちはやふる is still ongoing), and I always felt a bit of a ☆connection☆ with  her - between her book-loving personality and being a no-nonsense kind of person, there was no way for me not to enjoy her character. Great beginner anime/manga if you’re not into most beginner recommendations.

-☆-

April has been a pretty good immersion month, as I was able to dip my toes in a variety of media. A bit competitive, too! The club I joined has been pulling all the stops to get to the Top 20 Immersion Leaderboard in it’s first month. I was able to snag the 9th spot among a bunch of people of different comprehension levels (the majority being N1+ since they’re able to comprehend much more and in turn stand longer immersion hours). Lots of tiny complaints though of potential “whitenoising” content (”listening” and “reading” but not comprehending very well just to get a large number to post), but really what can you do? People lie all the time on the internet. Besides, it’s internet points that doesn’t do anything beyond being a little shiny I guess.

Enough about that, let’s get into the nitty-gritty details you came here for!

ANIME

フルーツバスケット

Might need to rewatch this one. Felt like I didn’t connect with the characters the way the rest of its fandom has. I’m kinda sad about it, since I normally love Slice of Life and Fantasy, and I know this is one of my friend’s diehard shows.

ラブライブ! School Idol Project S2

A filler anime to watch tbh. Nice and easy enough to follow for beginners. Pretty good songs. With regards to it being a show about music and moe, I still 100% prefer K-On! if I’m going to be honest, but for a show about non-toxic idols, it’s good!

魔法少女まどか☆マギカ

First read this as English translated manga when I was 13 or something. Mistakes were made. Let’s all just agree to throw キュウベえ into a pit of fire and never talk about it again. Great ending and a show that really reworked the magical girl genre. But seriously, I was traumatized by マミ’s death then and now, help.

四月は君の嘘

Already knew what was going to happen even before watching this so I didn’t ugly cry like I was expecting. Still got that awful sinking feeling though. 10/10 would recommend for a good cry. Also, I’m planning to read the manga, might enjoy that more, because I’ve always liked it more than anime actually. *shocked pikachu face*

ホリミヤ

Watched before I even finished the manga which felt like a mistake at first until I realized that it perfectly stops where I stopped reading. Nice and comfy anime, the kind I would have loved as a teen. Fun animation too, making parts very dramatic even though it wasn’t really that deep of an issue even in the manga. Just teens feeling feelings. Still salty that we lose bad boy styled 宮村, but I get why it had to happen.

AUDIOBOOKS

氷菓

Second re-listen. I understand it fine, but it’s very easy to drift off when you can’t catch all the words so I had to replay often. Will have to mine more from the anime/book.

君の名は

I mined from the anime, and was really pleased to be able to follow all 6 hours of this audiobook perfectly fine. Will need to read the book, because I realized just how seamless reading it would be after listening to it with hardly any issue.

BOOKS

キッチェン

Completed! Read my thoughts about it and see my stats on this post.

君の膵臓を食べたい

Still trudging on with this one. It’s not a bad story, it’s pretty well written actually, I just made the mistake of watching both the anime and live adaptation first, so I know exactly what’s going to happen and it’s killing my motivation to keep reading. I guess reading the book first before watching the movie still applies in any language with me. Really need to 頑張れ and finish so I can move on. 

三日間の幸福

Started reading towards the end of the month, mostly because I realized that every chapter is only 5000-15000 characters long, and I was able to read up to 40k in a day with Island most days. Only two chapters read so far though because I got distracted by manga, but it’s shaping up to be a really good plot and potentially a really sad one, too, so I’m interested.

DRAMA

花ざかりの君たちへ イケメンパラダイス

Heard this was a classic so I gave it a try. Loved 生田 斗真’s character in this one the most especially all his internal dialogue acted out. Also, 小栗 旬 in anything is bound to be a good watch. Simple and fun watch. They dragged the ending so much though lmao 

ごくせん

Look, I see 松本 潤, I click. Definitely the kind of show you should watch for some great life advice. Planning to watch the 2nd and 3rd seasons even if there is a terrible lack of 松本 潤, because I love my strong female protagonists, and man, ヤンクミ is such a great character. Need to read the manga, too, if I can find it.

極主夫道

Oof, this was kind of hard. The yakuza talk was throwing me off, but the rest of it was enjoyable. Not really plot heavy as I thought it was going to be. The comedy side of it was fun and predictable after the first few episodes. Overall, pretty good slice of life, family story with a twist.

MANGA

Read a bunch of manga this month, mostly because I am struggling to find the next vn to read.

おやすみプンプン

Read a couple of volumes (6-7). This manga is so good, but it’s so depressing I need to stop to take a breather every once in a while. Please don’t leave any spoilers. The club has been reacting to me reading this, and it has mostly been a lot of crying emotes. It’s both been enjoyable to see and really worrying. 笑

チェンソーマン

Club recommendation. Only read the 1st volume so far. I really need to get into more 少年 anime/manga. That’s currently my 苦手 genre which is awful because literally all the top anime/manga is 少年 help. I just can’t enjoy it much still even though it’s comprehensible to me.

ちはやふる 中学生編

Read Vol. 1, chill read to me at this point after reading 45 volumes of the regular manga. Look, it’s my favorite 幼馴染 manga in baby format, of course I’m going to read this! 太一 has been a flake way before season 3 confirmed. Don’t come at me たいちはや stans bc I also like his character.

約束のネバーランド

Volume 7. I’m taking my sweet time with this one, because I heard the anime for season 2 sucked, so I’m avoiding it like the plague. This is 少年 how am I enjoying this and not everything else what.

ヲタクに恋は難しい

Enjoyed the anime hated the movie why did they make it a musical that sucked (ps i normally love musicals hated this one) 

The オタク jargon is kinda hard to read suprisingly but I do enjoy this ship very much. It’s a lighthearted take to otaku culture which is great because seriously it’s scary out there.

ツバサ -RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE-

It’s my childhood ship, obviously I will read this again (read in English several years ago). Still as plot twisty as I remember it being (now at a bonus hard level reading it in Japanese 笑). Really enjoyed reading this one (I finished it this May).

-☆-

I’m starting to really dislike furigana in manga. It was a great help as a beginner, but now it’s like training wheels that you can’t take off. I feel like the gains I’m getting from manga is much lower than it was when I first started which makes me both proud of how far I’ve come, but also sad because I love manga. Sad that I might have to start choose VNs over it, because it’s not going to challenge me as much going forward. I mean it didn’t stop me from reading a lot of it this month, but you get the picture.

VISUAL NOVELS

ISLAND

Completed! See my stats and read my long spoiler filled post here.

ファタモルガーナの館

Picked up this VN and finished two doors (15 hours) before stopping. On the fence about it, because it has been kind of predictable so far, and I don’t particularly enjoy the horror genre. That said, this is more psychological than anything, so it’s probably not that that’s putting me off. The language is not exactly difficult, too - maybe some oddly specific words because it is after all historical fiction (which is one of my favorite genres, btw), and 敬語 is definitely interesting to read for once after encountering so many お嬢様 characters in anime/drama so far. 

I think maybe it’s the conversations that are kind of dull - dots (silence) every few clicks that keeps breaking the flow of reading. Probably judging it really harshly too early, because it’s rated so high everywhere, and I just have high expectations. Definitely not dropping it yet though, just taking a break and testing a couple of other VNs before I settle with whatever I end up choosing. It is, after all, going to be another 50+ hour read, and I just don’t want to not enjoy the process, because having fun with the process is a huge part of immersion learning.

Let me know if you’ve read Fata and if I should continue! 

-☆-

That’s it for this month!

If you have any suggestions on what to watch and read next, please send me a reply, especially for VNs because I’m struggling over here.

[sukirichi]

hi suki! wanted to tell you this bc i have no one else to talk about it with ><

( you can answer this when the English chapter releases! i was able to read it because my friend bought the WSJ issue)

I was trying to udnerstand Naoy's character, so I was reding everything from CH138-151 again. I'm kinda sad at how people just calls Naoya a Toji fanboy (though true LMAO) and not realizing how Toji really influenced his persona. Like the admiration Naoya held for Toji is so deeply engraved in him that he, who was called a genius sorcerer as a child, looks up to a man who was called a failure. Toji is probably the only man in the clan that he respected, that's why toji's level of strength became his "picture" to follow. And I think a lot of who Naoya has become is because the Zen'ins literally groomed the decency out of him. Still, though groomed to be everything he is, he himself chose not to change anything about it.

(wait but also?? little naoya looks cute like he would guide old ladies on the ped xing so what the fuck happened after that)

I guess one major reason why he does not respect anyone else in the clan (besides his superiority complex) is because of the Zen'in's concept of what is marked as strong. Like, the way they see and treated him as if he's the best sorcerer in the making, yet failing to see Toji's powers and rejecting him fully. It's something similar to Mai when she said "Maki has talent that I don't. And the clan rejected that; that talent that I lacked", except Naoya is raised to be a confident (arrogant?) child, thus he takes it as a challenge instead and works to achieve it.

So, when Maki reached the level of Toji, I think his reaction wasn't simply stemmed on his "fanboy" antics, but his desperation of being part of that level of strength. I think he's more irritated in the fact that Maki, someone who he does not see anywhere near as strong as he is (though he does say Maki is strong in chapter 138), reached a level of strength that he hasn't; that he is trying hard to achieve. It's also the same with having your favorite superhero getting defeated. And Naoya's in denial that there is someone else who could be the same as Toji.

I like how he's an antagonist that was not build under the foundation of a sob backstory (though it was a v small sneak peak of his background and was mainly centered with his admiration for toji, plus I think people forget that Naoya is an antagonist), how he acknowledges that he has not reached that level of strength. Of course, I'm angsty about his misogynistic ideals. I get that he's from a very traditionalist clan so... yeah. I mean, no child is born evil. Children learn from those around them (I've seen many people say he's trash since he was a kid when he said that "i wonder what miserable face he has", but like he's a kid, he doesn't know what he's saying AHSJFJWJQ8QR he was either taught that or he just learned it from others. Funnily enough, he does say toji has a pretty face now LMAO). Maybe it stems from something else, maybe it didn't.

I'm not saying him trying to kill Megumi is forgotten (Though, the Jujutsu Society is a place where teens get executed for the simple fact that they are too strong, so im not surprised. Just like Noritoshi said, age does not matter in Jujutsu Society). I see now why he was really pissed about Megumi being the head, since Naoya has been promised the position since he was young, only to loose of a 15 year old who is the son of the man he admires :')) However, still, none of it excuses the shit he did. He still has a shitty personality, but it's nice to know a bit of a background.

Anyway, that's all for now. My English is bad so that might be all over the place •`,`• That's just my take on it so I could be wrong or maybe seeing him wrong since we still don't know much abt him. I'm always scared to talk about naoya because the last time i did (on twt) i got a backlash of hate (ppl really do get hate just from admiring someone's characterization). Your blog is like a safe haven for naoya stans, so i thank you for that hehe.

Have a nice day suki!! kisses~

(also this is a PSPSPSPS to a naoya childhood friends au fic pls 👁👁)

bestie omg I am so sorry, I found this deep in my inbox and I am *shakes* and yes yes let’s talk about naoya, I would be more than glad to and I’m sorry I didn’t see this any sooner!! more rants and simping under the cut

I'm kinda sad at how people just calls Naoya a Toji fanboy (though true LMAO) and not realizing how Toji really influenced his persona. Like the admiration Naoya held for Toji is so deeply engraved in him that he, who was called a genius sorcerer as a child, looks up to a man who was called a failure. Toji is probably the only man in the clan that he respected, that's why toji's level of strength became his "picture" to follow. And I think a lot of who Naoya has become is because the Zen'ins literally groomed the decency out of him. Still, though groomed to be everything he is, he himself chose not to change anything about it.

omg for this…I’m actually like…like I love the detail that naoya admires toji? as we can see from the panel of little naoya, it’s like people have already planted in his head that no cursed energy = loser, yet he ended up admiring him and I am,,,my heart is just soft! exactly! just think of naoya born as a genius sorcerer yet his admiration for toji, who is painted as the clan’s failure, helped shape him into who he is! idk but I just really love the fact that naoya, who is like born with the pressure and role of being clan leader, somewhat strays from tradition and ends up finding strength into toji and even strives to follow him or “stand by him” someday. for me, it just shows that perhaps naoya isn’t really half as bad as he should be in an honest sense, meaning that he’s evil or morally corrupt because he was born that way or because he chose to be that way. I do agree that perhaps he is the way he is now because he’s groomed to be like that, but of course, I’m not going to disregard the fact that somewhere along the way, Naoya could’ve matured to choose himself to not embody the misogynistic tradition of the zen’in clan.

This could just be me, but my interpretation of it is that Naoya seems more like the perfect product or embodiment of how the clan shaped him to be, blinded him with false morals and the patriarchy presiding into them. Rather than Naoya being just “a misogynistic arrogant man” in my perspective and my opinion, I see him more into the bigger picture of his toxic upbringing to begin with. Like, no child is born evil unless there’s like a predetermined curse deciding their fate for them, so its partly the Zen’in clan’s fault he’s that way. But Gege showing that Naoya admiring someone the Zen’in clan disregarded, it shows that he is capable of being himself without the clause of his clan enforcing things to him once again, like the whole “he’s gonna be the future clan leader” thing, though that is still heavily embedded within him.

(wait but also?? little naoya looks cute like he would guide old ladies on the ped xing so what the fuck happened after that)

OMGGGG PLEASE THAT’S SO CUTE, HE LOOKED SO INNOCENT AND ADORABLE BUT EVEN AS A CHILD HE WAS ALREADY CALLING PEOPLE A LOSER LIKE EYE

I guess one major reason why he does not respect anyone else in the clan (besides his superiority complex) is because of the Zen'in's concept of what is marked as strong. Like, the way they see and treated him as if he's the best sorcerer in the making, yet failing to see Toji's powers and rejecting him fully. It's something similar to Mai when she said "Maki has talent that I don't. And the clan rejected that; that talent that I lacked",except Naoya is raised to be a confident (arrogant?) child, thus he takes it as a challenge instead and works to achieve it.

Anon, is it just me or like…was his superiority complex also enforced on him by the Zen’in clan as well? Again this could just be me going all psychologist mode on Naoya but the nature of superiority complex is quite interesting, you know! As a psych student, I perfectly understand that superiority complex either stems from several things like a) wanting to live up to one’s or others expectations, b) masking it with a deep stem of insecurity, or c) it’s a coping mechanism. See, I could go on and on about but then I’d have to link all my past studies lmao so let’s just put it on layman’s terms that my interpretation of Naoya’s superiority complex is once again, influenced by the clan. Imagine being a kid born into a clan where people remind you again and again that you’re the future leader, that you would be the one to guide them or protect them or discuss the clan’s future and status once you grow, and you’re quite groomed for it.

For such pressure to be put on a child’s shoulders, it kind of strips off his youth and instead of him enjoying his youth, I can imagine that it took a toll on little Naoya, and the reason he grew his superiority complex is his way to cope and reach the standards and expectations that is given to him. Of course, he’s a kid, he might start to wonder, “Can I even do all of that?” but seeing as the Zen’in clan highly measures strength and growth based on abilities, cursed energy, and overall just to conform into the image they’ve held for years, it’s quite obvious that Naoya can’t exactly voice out his worries over this, so instead, he masks it with a superiority complex that absolutely boosts him to a higher level, thus giving him the confidence he needed to carry out his tasks and the reassurance that, “Yes, I am worthy and I will be the clan leader.” As for your theory that he takes it as a challenge, I can see where you’re coming from! I think Naoya is the type of person who definitely likes to challenge himself, but one of the reasons I love his character so much is because he’s not completely a brainless “head on straight to war” type of person too.

He knows his limits and knows which side he should be in, as showed when Yuuta came and mans surrendered easily. Idk why but to me, Naoya, who is such an arrogant confident man who has high trust in abilities, but at the same time can admit when someone is stronger than him (like him admiring Toji and Gojo) just makes him more human and a little more beautifully flawed. Like, he’s not perfect and he’s most definitely an irritating character, but the way he was written is just *chef’s kiss*

So, when Maki reached the level of Toji, I think his reaction wasn't simply stemmed on his "fanboy" antics, but his desperation of being part of that level of strength. I think he's more irritated in the fact that Maki, someone who he does not see anywhere near as strong as he is (though he does say Maki is strong in chapter 138), reached a level of strength that he hasn't; that he is trying hard to achieve. It's also the same with having your favorite superhero getting defeated. And Naoya's in denial that there is someone else who could be the same as Toji.

Yes, ah I really do love this theory that he’s more irritated because in his mind, he’s like, “I’m a genius sorcerer! I was meant to be clan leader! This is my rightful spot to be a strong one, so how come Maki, who is a woman, with no zero cursed energy has reached the level of the person I looked up most to?” again, Naoya didn’t say that and those are just my opinions and brainrot so don’t come at me for it uwu, but yeah I do think that he’s very aggravated that he didn’t react that level first. Because I guess you could say, he’s probably alluding that Maki reaching Toji’s strength = them being equals, and ofc Naoya wanted to be the one standing beside them. It probably hit his superiority complex that he wasn’t the one in Maki’s spot especially when he tried so hard to achieve it, and considering the gifts he was given (same cursed technique as his dad and him having cursed energy) it threw him off.

Yeah, Naoya is most likely in denial and becomes aggressive over it, although I don’t really mean physically aggressive because Naoya is actually quite calm and ‘composed.’ If ever he did go on a rampage, he does it in such a suave, calculated manner with this silent confidence that he will win. It kind of makes you root for him because he even fools the audience (by audience I mean ME) that he’s going to OWN that fight but whoop, he got his ass kicked. Plus ten points for confidence and a bonus thousand points for being sexy though!!! Yeah, omg he’s probably in disbelief that a woman of all people could be like the person he admired most.

I like how he's an antagonist that was not build under the foundation of a sob backstory (though it was a v small sneak peak of his background and was mainly centered with his admiration for toji, plus I think people forget that Naoya is an antagonist), how he acknowledges that he has not reached that level of strength. Of course, I'm angsty about his misogynistic ideals. I get that he's from a very traditionalist clan so... yeah. I mean, no child is born evil. Children learn from those around them (I've seen many people say he's trash since he was a kid when he said that "i wonder what miserable face he has", but like he's a kid, he doesn't know what he's saying AHSJFJWJQ8QR he was either taught that or he just learned it from others. Funnily enough, he does say toji has a pretty face now LMAO). Maybe it stems from something else, maybe it didn't.

OMG YESSSS ANON YES YES YES *slams down simping button angrily* That’s what I like about him too! Even though Naoya is cocky and wayyyy too arrogant for his own good, I also like that he acknowledges he’s not quite in a level he wants to be in yet. And hah, his backstory, it wasn’t totally sob because it’s obvious he was much too doted on, but I still hate how they made him like that. True, if he’s still carrying the same misogynistic ideals as he is now in an age where he has the mental capacity to improve and be different, then the belief has become more of a choice than something engraved into him, which I am really disappointed and not really into because of course, he’d be much better if he wasn’t like that in the first place. LOLOLOLOL yes yes he’s a kid, it sure as hell doesn’t excuse the way he is now but like just think !!

if a kid was spouting out such mean words and CLEARLY no one is correcting him, who really is the problem here? A child has a harder time deciphering what is right and wrong by himself without proper guidance. And he didn’t have proper guidance, they really just let him be like that and it’s because the clan!! sucks !! ass !! YEAH he probably called toji with a miserable face because he hasn’t seen him before but after seeing the iconic dilf, Naoya gone be like, “anyways, I lied, moving on—”

I'm not saying him trying to kill Megumi is forgotten (Though, the Jujutsu Society isa place where teens get executed for the simple fact that they are too strong, so im not surprised. Just like Noritoshi said, age does not matter in Jujutsu Society). I see now why he was really pissed about Megumi being the head, since Naoya has been promised the position since he was young, only to loose of a 15 year old who is the son of the man he admires :')) However, still, none of it excuses the shit he did. He still has a shitty personality, but it's nice to know a bit of a background.

yeah no of course, no worries! even as a hardcore naoya stan, I can admit this dude is TERRIBLE for so many reasons! yeah I mean that could be pretty irritating because he was born for it, raised to be clan leader, groomed and expected he’d have that role, but nah someone else took his throne. yeah I’m with you on that, naoya has a shitty personality and I would totally smack him if he was real because he makes my eyes roll to the back of my head, but knowing his background and theorizing (read: me going all psychologist mode because he’s the only character I ever cared about to apply my studies into) his character is quite fun. I wish we had more scenes with Naoya though, I really hoped he’d play a bigger role but he just…died, I guess, though I’m starting to believe that maybe he really isn’t dead! Gege did him dirty omg I’ll cry again if it’s really GENUINELY confirmed my baby is gone.

Anyway, that's all for now. My English is bad so that might be all over the place •`,`• That's just my take on it so I could be wrong or maybe seeing him wrong since we still don't know much abt him. I'm always scared to talk about naoya because the last time i did (on twt) i got a backlash of hate (ppl really do get hate just from admiring someone's characterization). Your blog is like a safe haven for naoya stans, so i thank you for that hehe.

ah no worries about your English, I didn’t really notice anything wrong with it tbh! And I understand, these are all just our opinions/theories/perspectives, we could be wrong or not, we don’t really know because we’re not Gege (⋟﹏⋞) NOOOO PEOPLE HATED YOU ON THAT? ISTG I’VE NEVER SEEN A FANDOM CANCEL SOMEONE AS MUCH AS JJK FANDOM CANCELS NAOYA AND NAOYA STANS LIKE – he’s just a fictional character omg, cancelling naoya is understandable because I would too but attacking his fans? or generally anyone who talks about him in a neutral or not in a way that goes, “yeah I would punch this mfer” is just?? doesn’t make sense to me bestie, people really choose to do that with their time yikes.

AND AWWW THANK YOU YES I PROTECT ALL MY FELLOW NAOYA STANS HERE, I respect who people simp for because if it’s what you enjoy and as long as you’re not hurting anybody, then it really doesn’t matter and it’s not a big deal! and you’re always welcome here uwu. have an even nicer day bestie and I’m sorry I didn’t see this sooner AAAA I really loved talking about this tho HEHEHEH I’m not actually too much of a JJK theorist since I’m not smart enough to pay attention or infer from all the details but NAOYA HMMMMM also childhood friends fic? hmu let’s hear it!! also ahh hmm idk but i get really happy whenever people talk to me freely about naoya bcos even tho i have been a naoya simp for like three months, it was not until recently that people came to me about him and i have just been simping alone (bcos people MADDDD) spsppsps okay rant over thank you anon i love you kith kith <3

[specterchasing-a]

Eddie Carridine & Dani Edwards

A first attempt at analyzing Eddie’s relationships.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Depression, suicidal ideations (in the form of disregard for their own lives), and generally heavy topics such as loneliness and death.

At first glance, Eddie and Dani don’t seem to have much in common. She’s a dedicated slayer with a strict code, someone who values the importance of supernatural secrecy above almost all else. He’s a loose-lipped kid with a camera, preaching about how wonderful supernatural beings are. Needless to say, they clash—hard, but dig a little deeper than surface level and these two have more in common than they might ever know.

SOCIAL LIVES

Dan’s moms kept her on a rigid training schedule with little room for interpersonal relationships to develop. Eddie’s parents, albeit with vastly different motivations behind their actions, tried their best to keep him quiet and obedient. As one would assume, this kinda fucked them both up in a major way. Neither is particularly well-versed in navigating social situations, though that disadvantage presents itself in different ways between them. Dani keeps her emotions to herself and prefers to keep people at arm’s length while Eddie throws himself at whoever shows him an ounce of kindness. Different, yet alike, you feel me?

VIEWS ON DEATH

As a slayer, Dani’s gift is death (sorry, not sorry, for the Buffy reference) and Eddie, being a medium, has been surrounded by death since childhood. They cope with grief in different ways but both view death as something inevitable, maybe they even think that’s a good thing. Dani’s purpose is to die for the sake of humanity. If she doesn’t, she’s a failure. Eddie believes he doesn’t have a purpose outside of shepherding the dead and exposing the truth. Beyond that, he’s just a corpse waiting to happen. Neither Dani or Eddie view death as something to be afraid of. It is what it is, and it’ll probably come sooner rather than later.

STUBBORNNESS 

Yes, Eddie and Dani hold directly opposing views on the subject of supernatural secrecy but, more than that, they’re both assholes about it in the same way. When they first reunited at the grocery store and Dani saved Eddie’s life, Eddie blew up at her. He told her exactly what he thought and didn’t pull punches. It was not the first time Dani had been assaulted with narrow-minded stupidity and probably wouldn’t be the last. Initially, she bit back as she asserted her own views. Neither listened to the other, not really. Both of them were dead-set on believing the other was wrong, leaving no room for growth or understanding. They were like two unfortunately similar magnets pushing each other away.

IDEALS

Another instance of Dani and Eddie being alike, yet different can be seen in what motivates their actions. Clearly, they go about things with oppositional methods, but they are both driven by a need to make the world a safer place. Dani, rough-n-tough slayer that she is, is more interested in protecting humans and ridding the world of supernatural threats. By doing her job, she literally makes the streets of White Crest safer for its squishy, mortal  inhabitants. Eddie, on the other hand, wants the world to be safer for supernatural beings. He sees them as outcasts with targets on their backs, bogged down by unwarranted prejudices and falsely spun bad reputations. In his idea of utopia we’d all hold hands while we sing ‘We Are The World’ and outgrow things like murder and human sacrifice. If you ask me, neither of them have realistic expectations for how the world should treat supernaturals, but what matters is that they firmly believe they’ve got it all figured out and that the rest of the population needs to catch up with their massive brains. I realize this echoes a lot of what I said about their stubbornness but this is my impassioned rant about two idiots and I’ll be redundant if I want to.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS

Dani, considering she was raised to be a murder machine with a quickly approaching expiration date, doesn’t see love as a possibility for herself. For other people? Sure, but such luxuries shouldn’t be wasted on someone with a terminal birthright. Eddie, though this is quickly changing in lieu of his budding relationship with Alfie, never saw himself as someone who would fall in love either. Because of repression and guilt, he wanted to be right, too. Romantic love, whatever shape it took, was wonderful for everyone else. Let them fall into each other’s arms and make five-year plans together, Eddie would keep himself busy memorizing gravestones. Love scared him, so he left it alone. From what I can tell, Dani’s not scared of love—it’s just inconceivable to think she might experience it. Still, recent growth on Eddie’s part aside, they used to both be resigned to going through life alone.

LONELINESS

Okay, yeah, they’re resigned to going through life alone but, unfortunately for them, human beings are social creatures. Dani, I believe, might not always be aware of how much she needs other people but, at times, she reads as an exceptionally lonely character. On dash, characters have reached out to her after crises and her initial responses were always heartfelt and, most importantly, crossed out. Her first instinct is to show affection and concern because she does, in fact, know on some level that she needs people in her life but… that’s not supposed to be in the cards for her. Dani shelves her unfeigned distress in favor of lukewarm receptions. Some exceptions might be with Athena or a few other characters at times but, for the most part, Dani tends to isolate herself.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have Eddie. If someone says so much as one nice thing about him, he’s prepared to commit atrocities in their name. He’s not shy about it, either. He loves deeply and without prejudice. Recently, people have shown up in his life that give him countless chances to show-off how much devotion spills out of his heart on a daily basis. But it wasn’t always like that. For most of Eddie’s life, the majority of people he met made him feel like a freak. High school was hell for him, not that he’s unique for that. His fellow students tormented and ostracized him, his parents wanted nothing to do with him, and he struggled for a long-time trying to figure out how to love himself when no one else seemed to. That particular obstacle is still an issue but it’s thankfully becoming more manageable. However, even with new friends and old relationships being galvanized, it’s hard for him to believe the past won’t infect the present and future. Yesterday’s heartache comes back to him in aftershocks of loneliness and fear. No matter what, Eddie cannot  completely escape feeling alone. So, he and Dani sadly have that in common as well.