#like u have to make izzy fix himself before the romance. using romance to fix izzy is so lazy

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

fans “spite-creating” fanwork should be like “im tired of ppl mischaracterizing this side character i don’t even care about in a way that is in no way problematic but it annoys me so much i wrote a whole in-depth analysis of why the fandom views this character COMPLETELY wrong” or “all the fanart ignores this character’s CANONICAL FRECKLES and i spent 8 hours painting this hyperrealistic portrait of this character with their freckles” or “i don’t ship this but people who do always do it WRONG so i’m writing a BETTER version” and like silly fandom stuff not. like.

“you told me the way i wrote my last fanfiction/fanart was racist so now i made a new one that’s EVEN MORE RACIST”

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

were lonan and harrison in a relationship? could you ~maybe~ share a romantic (as romantic as them two can get) excerpt between the two of them?????👀👀👀🥰

OH so u want the tea anon, I shall SERVE. This will probably make more sense if you have context on the series (which I briefly summarized HERE) but I’ll try my best to add context as we go. Here’s a comprehensive breakdown of the entire relationship! TW: this relationship is a little toxic, so tread carefully, mentions of trauma, blood, also lots of old, sorta cringe writing in this one!

1. The initial phases

The boys have had a very complex relationship from the start. At the time, I was very young, so I hadn’t sorted out sexualities for any of my characters, and over the years, they’ve all progressively come out to me, which has been a really wonderful experience.

Lonan is introduced 1/3 way through book two, when the series was still very YA dystopian. When he appears on the page, he’s been Harrison’s coworker in the ~~government, so they know each other well. They’re also nemeses. They dislike each other fiercely, but it’s kind of endearing. Clearly they have a history no one knows about (including myself), whether that’s as friends, enemies, both.

At the time of meeting, both boys are in relationships of their own, Lonan with his first serious girlfriend Holly who is Foster’s (Harrison’s best friend) sister, and Harrison with his first girlfriend, Margo, which always didn’t work (because! Harrison! is! gay!).

2. Getting warmer

In book three, the boys still hate each other, but with even more passionate vengeance. Harrison is angry at Lonan because Lonan keeps ruining his life (does this sound familiar) and Lonan is mad for no reason (does! this! sound! familiar!). This is the book where Fostered’s protagonist, Reeve, finds out Lonan is actually her half brother, and this very much changes the dynamic between Reeve and Lonan who go from trying to kill each other to ~~bonding, which by proxy, changes the dynamic between Lonan and Harrison because Harrison is essentially an older brother figure to Reeve. They’re kind of forced to make some form of amends in this book, but don’t become allies until 1/2-3/4 through.

Big tea is that they take a solo trip together and this is where I first hint at the SHIP (ft. Harrison’s very kind nickname for Lonan: Loner). The squad discussing romance:

“Really Foster? With Loner? Oh my god, out of all of the guys in this world, you paired me up with Loner?”

“Yeah, well why not? You both seem awfully close–”

Foster on Lonan and Harrison’s relationship:

“You guys are practically a married old couple. You even have nicknames for each other…”

3. Making progress

In book four, the boys have amended their destructive relationship, somewhat, and are kind of friends! Between books three and four, we can assume they’ve gotten closer as Harrison seems to know things about Lonan’s past that even his sister doesn't. I’d say they have a pretty productive friendship at this point. Lonan, however, starts a pretty intense romance with a woman named Glenne who reappears in Feeding Habits, and Harrison finds a dog! This is really becoming too similar to what’s happening currently oh! Here’s the first moment where I began squealing at this ship:

The both of them lie on their backs, staring straight up at the ceiling. Blood pools from Ris’ nose, slicing his cheek in two. Lonan’s eye is black, tears still seeping from them in slow, agonizing lines. They don’t look at each other. They don’t speak.

But when I look down, they’re clutching each other’s hands, so tightly, the blood between their fingers drips to the floor. 

THE SHIP THE SHIP THE SHIP

4. The ship?? is it sailing??

In book five, the boys seemingly have gotten even closer! The boys have a lot of one-on-one time before the start of the book because they create an entire underground empire together lol but Lonan’s mental health has taken a dip for the worst as past traumas from book four follow him into book five, and Harrison is a big support. Their emotional intimacy has deepened, even if they are only friends (Harrison is single and READY to mingle but Lonan’s still in a relationship with Glenne).

Here’s a line where Reeve states “so haha Harrison is the only person who can make my brother feel better”:

I’ve brought Harrison with me. Not because I don’t trust Lonan, and what he’s capable of, but because I think, out of every one of us, he’s the only one that can get through to him when he’s like this.

I mentioned Lonan’s mental health is not doing great, and at its worst point, Harrison goes out of his way to do the difficult task of tracking Lonan’s mother, Izzy, down so that he can have more support. He pretends to reach out under the guise that he’s actually Reeve:

“Don’t tell him,” Harrison breathes, running a hand through his hair. “The last thing I want him thinking is that I gave enough of a shit to actually, I don’t know, care about him.”

“But you do, don’t you?” Mom laughs when he only flushes deeply, taking a final sip on her tea, which must be nothing but lukewarm at this point. “Seriously, Harrison, right? You two are such teases with one another. You bicker like a married couple.”

5. Harrison says I love you: 

(it’s in a funny context but STILL)

“See, this—this is why I love you, Lonan.” Harrison says, swipes the tears from the corner of his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“What did you say?” Lonan asks, and not even biting his lip is enough to stop the goofy smile that peels across his face. “Did you just use the L word?”

6. This ship has come to a halt??

At the end of book five and the beginning of book six, Lonan and Harrison are not on speaking terms. This is because everything seems to go wrong for everyone at the same time. Harrison keeps secrets Lonan wishes he hadn’t, etc. Lonan and Glenne’s relationship falls apart and no one is happy.

Here’s Reeve saying Harrison’s heart is broken over how badly he feels for Lonan and that loss of friendship (SOFT):

I always wondered with Harrison and Lonan, if it were possible to have your heart broken over love that wasn’t romantic... Harrison’s heart broke over Lonan’s torment.

Reeve explains the state of their relationship:

Lonan and Harrison haven’t shared a word since their fight. But we’ve all had duties to tend to, so they’ve still been forced to interact, but even then, it’s radio silence. Sometimes there are glares and scowls involved, but other than that—nothing. It’s the longest they’ve gone without talking, as far as I know. Ris and Lonan might have had a similar conflict when they were co-workers, but from what I’ve witnessed of their relationship, this is more than just a warning sign.

The two make amends after a few weeks of not talking because mutual friend of the squad, Darren, calls Harrison to be like “haha so Lonan and Reeve are disasters please help” and so their reunion is kind of forced:

[Harrison] knows [Lonan and I are] standing there. The involuntary twitch of his ears, the tense of shoulders when the weight of both our stares pin them down. He knows. But he doesn’t look up. He keeps his attention fixed on the bubbling eggs in front of him, the old red spatula that now misses its spot in the cupboard.

Lonan immediately takes a step back, almost knocks me over in the process. It’s not shock, it’s not anger, it’s nothing. Just a passive jolt that makes him clench his jaw, and pull himself together. His eyes, as usual, are safeguarded, prepared to launch back any form of advance.

“You guys gonna stand there for the next hour, or what?” Harrison turns as he says that, and it’s a sting, yet relief when he looks at me first, and not Lonan. “Seriously, you can talk if you want to. It’s not gonna bother me. You look lovely, by the way.”

Silence, but around the skin I peel off my lip with my incisors, I say, “Thanks.”

“Actually,” Ris unzips his jacket, throws it over the back of one of the chairs. “I was talking to him.”

At this point, we feel a few things: a) Harrison is done with Lonan and his toxic patterns but still cares b) Lonan feels somewhat suffocated by Harrison’s attempts to help and the relationship, though a little more civil, is still volatile.

Their second reunion again, is inevitable, which Reeve explains as the squad set out to rescue Foster lol:

Lonan’s coming with us too. That wasn’t my call, or Harrison’s, even. It’s mutual, albeit wordless, the agreement we have that we’d rather find Foster without him. Though his motives steer somewhere closer to wanting to avoid pissy attitudes, we both know Lonan’s of no use if he’s injured. And from the looks of his eye that’s gotten worse, crusted in blood, like a leaked pipe gooed over, and the lacerations across his ribs, sewn shut by my unsteady hand, he isn’t ready for a mission like this. But who am I to control him. I’m not his mother. 

7. Back on track?

Reeve outlines a false backstory for Harrison’s iconic leather jacket in the 250-word sentence from a few years ago (she’s in Harrison’s room) and we hint at an actual, palpable romance:

...pretend not to have a flask of whiskey hidden behind his headboard, drink out of it when he falls in love and drink out of it when he falls back out of it, meet a boy who will drink half of it with him, who will hurt him, and hate him, who will be pasted in polaroids behind the map he’s tried to cover him up with, who he’ll kiss and take a picture with, sometimes both at the same time...

8. Or not

But when she brings the romance up shortly after, Harrison seems a lil *tense* about it:

“I saw those pictures. In your room. Behind the map? I saw you. You kissed him.”

Harrison’s jaw trembles. Clenched by the joint, skin concave in the bone. Takes another puff of the cigarette but almost bites off the tip. Curls of the cherry wood table catch under his fingernails. 

Harrison denies his feelings for Lonan, tho from the above, we’re not exactly sure why:

“You’re wrong.” And then louder, when I don’t say anything. “You’re wrong. I don’t like your brother.”

 “Then why are you hiding him from [Emily]?”

From this, we can assume the boys had somewhat of a productive, healthy romance threaded through the end of book 5, and in sprinklings in book 6, though it seems to not be in a very hot place currently. We see flashes of this in the “mini” stories I’ve written about the boys (Lampshade, Fishbowl, and Mandarin).

9. Jump into Moth Work

In book 6, Lonan has a bit of a resurgence back into a bad frame of mind when something bad happens to his sister and he feels he could’ve prevented it. This leads closer to the present of Moth Work as Harrison makes the decision to take him to his father’s cabin on the west coast, a place he hopes Lonan’s mother, Izzy, will be. She is there, but unlike the first time in book 5 where she helped him, Izzy’s a bit far gone with her own problems, namely a drug addiction. Lonan is unhappy at the cabin, tho this decision leads us into Moth Work as the squad, except for Lonan and Harrison, leave the cabin for the east coast.

In Moth Work, the relationship seems to be teeming into unhealthy as both parties (but mostly Lonan) need to work on themselves. The entire book centres on this conflict as a) Harrison tries to help Lonan who is still unwell, while struggling to realize this is just something he can’t do and b) Lonan struggles with accepting himself and also being a better, accountable human.

10. Oh god here comes Eliza

Lonan is so hyperfocused on himself and understanding his traumas that he struggles to prioritize others over himself, even when he doesn’t mean to. This becomes really emotionally exhausting for Harrison, so in ch. 5 of MW, they physically split. Lonan winds up in Las Vegas, looking for Eliza, his father’s ex-girlfriend, and OH BOY does a bizarre, unplanned (for all of us lmao) romance ensue. This relationship takes a nosedive, even in its best parts because its foundation is laid upon mistruths.

11. Harrison is back

In chapter 12 of MW, Harrison, who’s been entertaining a romance with someone else in the interim, appears at Eliza’s apartment to make amends with Lonan who he can’t seem to shake off (he’s a pesky moth haha). This shakes them both as a) Harrison isn’t sure about Eliza and her potential motivations, and b) Lonan, without Harrison, most definitely knows he’s done hurtful things to “better himself” (which is actually toxic).

12. Lonan says I love you

Lonan realizes how important Harrison is to him, and while they both inevitably know their relationship isn’t going to work out, which Harrison hints at, they share a wholesome moment at the “beautiful place” which I mention in MW writing updates:

“You’re not coming back with me,” Harrison says.

Lonan takes hold of the guardian angel, and gingerly, like it’s fragile enough to crumple, brings it to his mouth and kisses it. His lip glints, just as the angel does, in the moonlight. He lets the angel fall, swaying like a pendulum, and pulls his hand back slowly. Quietly, he says, “I think I’ve loved you a long time.”

13. Inevitable split

Harrison makes the decision to not stick around for Lonan because he’s realized it’s actually unproductive for them both to try to make a relationship work in the state it’s in. Structurally, Lonan needs to change, and he realizes that. Harrison leaves Las Vegas to live with his mother and that leads us to Feeding Habits.

14. Where are we in Feeding Habits?

Lonan has been in a strange relationship with Eliza for about six months, and Harrison’s been living with his mother in NYC after a few destructive instances that prompt her to host an intervention. While Lonan learns a lot about himself and grows a lot in this book, Harrison struggles because I really think he’s hurting over the end of their romance. This is truly a hurt bae moment.

TL;DR: Lonan needs to work on himself & be accountable for his actions before he gets into a relationship with anyone, and Harrison has to learn when to keep his emotional spoons for himself and that he can’t control how much he helps someone, even when he wants to. In my head, I know where the relationship ends (happily ever after), but this is just the very, very beginning, so there’s a lot that both sides need to work out before we get there.

Since you particularly asked for a romantical excerpt, the last chapter of MW is under the cut. It’s imperfect but I think it kind of sums up everyone’s feelings pretty nicely.

--Rachel

Chapter 15: Summon Away

He sees Lonan once the next morning. Sitting at the kitchen table over a cup of steeped tea—something floral and springy. Harrison watches him from the couch and can’t remember at what point he fell asleep last night. He’s not sure if he even did—if all he remembers is Eliza leaving, and then a blank wall.

Lonan is reading the newspaper. Every few minutes, he flips the page so new cheap colours and words blot against his fingertips. Harrison doesn’t move at first. It’s easier to watch him. How in the trickle of morning sun, his hair is a damp brown. How his eyes take to that glow, their translucent sparkle.

When Lonan has sipped four times from the mug, Harrison finally rises. No sign of Eliza sounds, and he’s grateful for it. This morning, he knows what he’s doing.

“What is that?” Harrison asks, pulling back a barstool with one hand, while pointing at the mug with another.

Lonan glances up, and the two mutually analyze each other. Lonan’s puckered skin, how morning makes his eyelashes papery, like wings. He wonders what Lonan sees in him—for a moment, it’s all he wants to know.

Lonan knuckles the mug over and Harrison picks it up like he’s holding an eyeball. The tea is hot, though Lonan hasn’t seemed to mind, and its flowery perfume burns Harrison’s throat. Lonan pulls the mug back to him when Harrison’s done, and takes another sip.            

“I still have no idea,” Harrison says, and to his shame, studies Lonan’s face for a bite wound.

“Earl grey.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It expired four years ago.”

Harrison gasps, and Lonan almost smiles. And for a moment, Harrison almost forgets where he is. What happened at this counter just a few hours prior. With Lonan, it almost disappears. They could be back at the cabin, needling through the woods on that first day they tried to get rid of the darkroom. They could be in the water, shielding, yet simultaneously pushing each other under. They could be dancing to no music in a tiny bathroom or driving for carless miles in the tarnish of rain. Harrison traces Lonan’s face, each line that etches his eyes, nose, mouth, hair, and he doesn’t stop.

“You’re up early,” Lonan says finally. “Did I wake you up?”

Harrison shakes his head. He clutches the edge of the counter and tries not to tremble. Lonan is pretending to read the paper. He tries to fill in a miniature sudoku game in his head, follow along to headlines, but Harrison knows he isn’t. Through the skin of the paper, Harrison watches him watching him. Harrison doesn’t know what he dreamt of last night. If it was a good dream. If he’d want to dream it again. If he dreamt at all.

“I found this article,” Lonan says, and turns the paper over. It’s not very long, just a small corner of the entire page, but Harrison sees the title, all bolded, Summer’s Dreaded Pesk: 10 Facts About Moths. He leans in closer to read it.

The facts are almost all useless to him—that moths like sweet things, that there are thousands of species, that many don’t eat, but what sticks out to him is the last: how they’re attracted to light. Harrison skims the text with his fingernail, reads something about light traps, and tries not to think of how unfortunate it all is—to move toward light and then stop moving altogether.

“What does it mean?” Harrison’s voice catches.

Lonan doesn’t say anything. They just watch each other, and then the article, alternating until they can almost do both at once.

Harrison looks away first. He inhales, and tries to steady himself, but when he knows he’s going to break, reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the chain. He took it off last night and put it in there, and today, he unravels it carefully. He shoulders off his eyes, and in his palm, displays the angel. Its crystals beam in the sunlight that hits them both, and though it misses a jewel, has never looked more beautiful.

He almost says something but catches himself. He knows whatever he will say will keep him here, in this sun, on this barstool, reading the newspaper about moths, sitting next to Lonan, drinking his tea, never knowing what flavour it is. Harrison inhales, and on his exhale, unclasps the chain and drapes it around Lonan’s throat.

When the angel hits Lonan’s chest, a sound comes out of his mouth that Harrison thinks is almost animal. Harrison’s hand lingers on the back of Lonan’s neck when he clasps it, feeling the pulse of Lonan’s heartbeat, even from all the way up here.

Lonan clutches the angel when Harrison pulls back, and he doesn’t let go, even when Harrison rises.

“I’m going to grab a pack of cigarettes,” Harrison says, speaking to the ray of sun next to Lonan’s face. “Is there a gas station around here?”

“Just up the road.”

“Do you want anything?”

“I don’t think so.”

Harrison nods. Then he steps back, away from the kitchen, and slips his shoes on, one by one, more carefully than he’s ever done before. He knows Lonan looks at him. He knows what’ll be in his eyes if he looks up—and so he doesn’t. Harrison checks his jacket pocket for his car keys, and when they jangle, he turns toward the door.

“How long?”

Lonan’s voice makes him jump.

“Pardon?”

“How long will you be gone?”

Harrison frowns. “I’m just grabbing a pack of cigarettes.”

Lonan is the one to nod this time. He’s such a pretty sun baby, golden and capable.

“Before you go,” Lonan says, and closes the newspaper so it sits as a square on the counter. He doesn’t continue. All he does is gesture Harrison forward, his fingers weak as they curl twice—a beckoning.

Harrison takes a step forward. And then another. He doesn’t move closer than that. His head pounds; his heart bleeds too much. Lonan meets him in a place he won’t go, stepping out of his seat so they both stand in a patch of light that makes the dishware in the glass cabinet sparkle. Harrison says nothing when Lonan puts a hand on his cheek. Pushes a strand of his hair behind his ear, connects the dots of his freckles in a quick sweep because he’s done this before and knows exactly where they are. Harrison says nothing when Lonan kisses him. How his lips taste like the tea—a flavour he’s already forgotten, but that he knows. He doesn’t move. He just lets him touch, and touch, until he’s finished, until the lack of his mouth on Harrison’s finally feels like he needs it back immediately.

“A pack of gum, maybe,” Lonan says, and wrings his lip between his finger.

“A pack of gum.”

Harrison steps back. The sun is getting brighter now—it lights the kitchen like the lace on a doily, a warm glimmer like being underwater at dawn. He leaves the apartment without his angel, and keeps going, even when he wants to turn back.

 ***

Harrison buys the pack of cigarettes. And then the gum. And then he finds his mother.

She isn’t hard to locate. A quick question at the checkout counter, and he finds out the apartment complex near the public garden is only a fifteen-minute drive away.

It’s just as he pictures it. A white building, with a white lobby, the bricks white, the carpets white, the tables white. In little places, there are bits of gold—lining the keyboard the security guard types at, on the edges of every window so it’s only visible when the sun flashes.

In his hand, he holds a bouquet of roses from the convenience store. They’re cold and wet, and dampen his palms, but he clutches onto them in the elevator. When he gets off, he navigates through the hallway until he reaches her door—217.

He hesitates before knocking. Something in his heart is missing, and he knows exactly who, but he knocks anyway, two quick taps that he’s surprised she hears.

When his mother answers the door, she’s still wearing her pajamas. And they aren’t the pajamas he’d expect her to wear—no silks, laces, tank tops, fuzzy slippers. Instead, she’s in a too-big trucker t-shirt and a pair of wearing sweatpants. He doesn’t know why this comforts him. Or why this makes him cry when he hands her the roses.

He is swept into her apartment in a cloud of tears and he lets them fall as he collapses on his mother’s welcome mat. She smells like coffee, and clementines, and he clings to her when she holds him, when she pats his hair, his cheeks, his neck, the clamminess of her what he feeds on.

“It’s not going to last forever,” she says as she pats him again, on the floor with him now, crying with him now. And he repeats this: it’s not going to last forever, it’s not going to last forever, and he doesn’t know if this is supposed to be a good thing.

 ***

His mother has a balcony too. At it, they sit together, mostly silent, though Suzanna comments on the madeleines she unboxed for them to try ever so often, as if their flavour changes, though it never does. He can’t remember what he explained—it feels like so long ago that he arrived, even though it’s been less than an hour. He doesn’t know what he knows, if Lonan knows his trip to the gas station is going to be prolonged. His words were a woven mess when he spoke to his mother, of their messy love, of the unknown tea, of the moths, of so much more with that kiss.

Now, his mother massages his hand absently while paging through a book. He doesn’t know what book. It could say encyclopedia or academia, or amnesia—he can’t read it. She peeks at him too often, but he revels in it, the worry there, a care he doesn’t know how to handle, as if it’s fragile and wrapped in moth wings. Ahead, the city crumbles, and he can’t stop the pictures he sees in the clouds.

His mother reads. Harrison watches. A father and son down below, who take turns walking their golden retriever. A food stand vendor that hands a stack of checked tissues to a mother wrangling four small children. A couple who take photos in front of a cherub fountain, how he can almost hear the mechanical click of their camera from fifty feet up. Something stirs inside of him, at the thought of Lonan back in that golden apartment, and he only realizes what it is much later, when his mother is heating up something spiced and leftover in the microwave. The feeling like being buried alive and wanting to do it again just so someone can pull you out. A loneliness he sucks on until his mouth sores.