#the very specific type of joy it brings me is not something i ever saw coming. i am so glad i'm here to feel it now.

[mysterywheeze]

If you've ever struggled with suicidal ideation, this has likely been a particularly difficult week. It certainly has been for me. I've lost a lot of trust in a lot of people. I hope this post doesn't make anyone lose trust in me.

You need to live. That means you, the person reading this post. I don't know your name or your situation but I know, with the same certainty that I know that the Earth is turning, that you need to live.

I know that it can be hard, crushingly hard. I know what it's like to feel so empty that getting out of bed seems impossible, or so overwhelmed that drastic action seems like the only way out.

It isn't. Death is not the answer. It sure as fuck isn't praxis. Please, please do not let anyone convince you otherwise. If you think that your death will have a net positive effect on the world, I promise you, as someone who has been there before, it won't.

And while I encourage you to do what you can to try and make the world a better place - donate to charity, pick up litter, volunteer your time, write your representatives, et cetera - I want to make it clear that those aren't requirements you need to meet to justify being alive. Your life has value, inherently.

Today things may be terrible. They may stay terrible for a while. But one day, a song will get stuck in your head that makes you feel something again. You'll meet a dog that loves you unconditionally. You'll eat a meal that tastes like it was cooked by an angel. You'll pick up a new hobby, perhaps without even realizing it, and it will bring you some sense of satisfaction. You'll watch a beautiful movie. You'll walk past a beautiful mural. Someone will compliment your outfit, someone will laugh at your joke, someone will tell you they're happy to spend time with you. One day you will wake up early enough to see the sun rise.

It's a cliche to say "it will get better". That's because it's true. It probably won't be a linear upward trend, rarely do things stay better forever, but there will come a time when you'll be glad you stayed alive. I promise.

[doll-r-t]

A Weird Position to Relax in

Syverson x autistic/ADHD!reader

(No race or body type explicitly stated! And written by and actually autistic/ADHD person)

Summary: you have the habit of getting into weird positions to relax and just hang out. (Inspired by the pictures I saw on Pinterest)

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Masterlist

Pictures found on Pinterest and mood board made by me. Credit to the people the photos belong to!

Syverson loved living with you for a very weird and specific reason. Something he had not noticed prior to living with you. Every time he came home, especially late. He would wonder how he would find you this time? 

Yes you had the weirdest habit when it came to well… positions. 

You could relax or sleep in the weirdest positions. It looked so uncomfortable to him but you looked more than fine. 

You called it things like floor time. Needing to just lay on the ground. You had no idea why but it felt so good. You would sometimes just lay there and stare at the wall. Not in sadness or anything. Just, you know, hanging out. 

When he first saw you in q weird position he just looked at you, exclaiming: "what the fuck are you doing?" He was amused. 

Soon creating a game in his head: how would he find you today? 

On his way home he would decide which room, couch floor or bed, and which position he would find you in.

Yet, most of the times you still surprised him

That is why he loved you, you made him laugh as soon as he stepped into the flat

And although you were not aware of his game, he was giddy every single day to come home to you, excited to see what kind of weird position you came up with 

One time he had found you in a small nook with you body almost bend in half on your hip, this was one of the weirdest one 

“How are you comfortable?” 

You just looked confused at him, your phone in your hand, shrugging your shoulder 

One time he woke up in the middle of the night and you were not next to him,

he went in search for you and found you in the small pantry/guest room in your house

The house was not big but you insisted of having another bed in case anyone ever needed to stay over 

You were sat on the floor next to the bed in your PJs 

just when he entered you had taken a big bite from a take out pizza 

Smiling through a full mouth you held up the pizza carton, 

“You want some?”, mumbling through your bites 

“It's 3 a.m.?!” He looked at you bewildered. 

“What are you doing?!” 

You just shrugged and took another big bite

“I woke up and was hungry.” 

“How did you get this stuff?” 

Looking at him like he was an idiot you held up your phone, waving it around 

“I did not hear the doorbell.” 

“Didn’t want to wake you so waited until I saw their car then went outside.” 

He rubbed his eyebrows, Sitting down on the floor as well, 

It was a tight fit but he took one of the slices anyway 

“Don’t go out next time.” He said after a bite 

“Either let them ring, don’t care if it wakes me. Or tell them to put it down at the front door and then wait until they leave.” After a pause he went on 

“Actually, just get me.” 

You smiled softly up at him, “Okay.” 

You knew he was worried about strangers coming to your home at night and you coming to harm 

He mustard you for one more second before nodding at your phone 

You pressed play on the episode your were watching and you two sat their just eating 

Although it was a bit uncomfortable, sitting like this for him after a while he could not bring himself to care 

He had not done this since before his military career

Just sitting down in the middle of the night with a bunch of junk food and a cute girl while watching TV on your shitty phone 

Shitty, because you constantly dropped it, the screen was slightly chipped and it just looked worn out 

He wanted to get you a new one but you waved him away, 

“It’ll just end up looking like this anyway.” 

He made sure that you were able to call him or the police in case you were in trouble and when he was confident your shitty phone could he had let it be 

You eventually fell asleep on the floor, seemingly fully comfortable and your tummy full with food

He waited until the episode was finished just looking at you in amused fascination that you could just sleep like this 

“You would be a great army personal” He thought, they had to sleep whenever and wherever they could 

Groaning he stood up, stretching himself 

Picking you up he made his way back with you to bed

One of the funniest ones was when he came home and you were working on the computer, the small fluffy kitten you had adopted from a shelter, laying on your head

He was not too fond of cats but he could never say no to you, so when both you and the cat looked up at him with big pleading eyes, he finalized the adopted 

You cuddled her to you and talked about you were its new mummy and the big rough looking guy driving the car was its new daddy

He liked the sound of that and melted even more when you reassured the kitten that he only looked scary but he was a big warm cuddle bug 

So when he came home to you working on the computer with the kitten on your head happy as ever he barked out a laugh. 

“Oh God she is you in cat form.” 

However, he soon only called the little kitten “Princess” or “little miss” when he was cross, giving you a glimpse at how he would be with a daughter

Now he would come home to you, his beloved everything and his furr daughter in weird positions 

And eventually he would just lay next to you on the ground or, whatever weird spot you were and would hang out 

You’d put your blanket around him and the little kitten would snuggle up with him, purring at his warmth 

“I think I get it now.”

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Taglist:

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[driftwithme]

THIS KINDAAA ENDED UP BECOMING RANT(?) ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF BOTH MAKO AND CHUCK IN MY CHALEIGH INTERPRETATION, AND HOW CAN BOTH THEIR DYNAMICS WITH RALEIGH CAN BE PROPERLY PORTRAYED WITHOUT REPRESENTING A THREAT TO THE OTHER.

ENJOY?

The relationship of Mako and Raleigh in my Chaleigh interpretations is very specific on its dynamic.

You know those stories where the hero has a wife and a brother-in-arms that he would go to hell and war for and spend the rest of his life loving closely, without it meaning he does not love his wife dearly and with all his heart?

That is Mako to Raleigh.

She is the other half of his soul. Mako knows him in a way Chuck can't, not more or less in intensity, just different. The same way Chuck knows Raleigh differently.

Mako knows Raleigh like they were the same. Maybe they are the same, the overlapping in their existence a constant reminder that they are not alone and never would be. It's Yancy-Raleigh-Mako in the spot, three persons so knitted together the universe would had to work hard to separate their essences.

She knows his muscles in battle by heart, his breathing, his mind. If he hided, she'd be the one to find him. If he ever lied feverly sick, her blood would be the one to cure him. She is the one of a kind connection of legends, of myths. The sister, beloved, friend and many other tags, because it feels like she's a million things in one. She is what the Greeks sang about in their hymns and what the knights of the round table were after.

Their bond is so special, it'd be an insult to suggest they can't live separate lives or love others in any way. It'd suggest their bond is fragile and can be threatened or replaced by others, which is not true.

This is when I have to be careful explaining that Chuck is kinda the wife of my exmaple ONLY in the sense of being the romantic love of Raleigh's life. I don't want you to think I'm using the female role as a stereotype of the wife who stays at home waiting for the two warriors to done waging war. When I say that Chuck would wait as the wife, I refer to the tender wait of the heart, the type it's done when the lover is having a nightmare and you have to wait for them to come to their senses or when you wait for someone to always be back at home, always return to you. It's the wait of a lighthouse for a boat, the gestures. It reads "We both have our dark stories and troubled pasts, but you taught me with your example the waiting of lovers and so I'll do for you what you did for me: I'll wait for you to come around".

Chuck knows Raleigh by practice. Instead of learning because they were in each other's heads, Chuck knew him by days and minutes and moments spend together. Painfully and slowly, they agonized to the awkward and worked through the ugly, an exercise in love. For Raleigh it is line building and tending to the Wall in the sense he has to to there and do his job daily to build something new and make sure to repair the old achievements. For Chuck it is like rehabilitation: in order to walk and run and dance and live his life with a smile on his face, he needs to do the same exercises every day, as boring as they can be or even if he thinks is not necessary.

I think the wonderful thing about Mako and Raleigh is that they are like magic (which it's not a quality of the drift but of themselves). We saw each other and we knew us, instant connection. I was waiting for you all my life, even before I knew you existed. It's easy as breathing, second nature, The Movie Type.

With Chuck and Raleigh, it is so human and real it cannot be other thint but love, both pure and raw. Hand-made, their live is the craft that hurts and brings them extreme joy, hard enough to make you cry, mad enough to got you doing things you never thought you would. It's so real and so painfully human that it sounds like a joke. It's life. There's no magic or influence they are under, nothing to put them together, not destiny or big plan or mission. They choose each other. Even if it could be easier with someone else, they do want it like that with each other.

I love the idea of Raleigh representing both of those things to Mako and Chuck. He's the magic for Mako and the mundane for Chuck. I think Mako had enough of the harsh reality of life and she deserves to live like in a movie; that Chuck has enough of being trapped on a narrative and he deserves someone who's capable of bringing him down, show him the blood on his veins runs red, he is not a hero or a martyr but a man, flawed, lovable, real.

Maybe is the aspect side of me, but it is so easy to see. I don't like when writers protrait Chuck like he's just a male object for Raleigh to have sex with or just an object of love. Or when they write Mako as the Boss Bitch TM stereotype or the sidekick or the actual real girlfriend and Chuck's the sidepiece.

Raleigh is better at feelings than that.

[my-excellent-bicycle]

Taskmaster Dream Contestants

Whenever people bring up their dream contestants, a few names always rattle around in my head, but I've never actually sat down and wrote out a proper list until today.

I should mention that Ivo Graham would be on this list if I wrote it several months ago, and I'm incredibly hyped to see what disastrous things he gets himself into during S15.

David O'Doherty

I mean, if you've been following my blog at all, this should be a no-brainer. He's a perfect mix of silly, wholesome, and weird that would be perfect for the show, with a hint of athleticism as well. And he hangs out with lots of TM-related people like Alex Horne, Tim Key, Rose Matafeo, Dara O Briain, and others to the point whether I question why he hasn't been on already. Only time will tell whether he becomes one of the fandom's beloved "old men." (A term I use loosely since he's in his 40s.)

Rob Brydon

I'll admit I only know him from Would I Lie To You and his Brydon & podcast (I haven't seen his stuff with Steve Coogan), but Rob seems like the type of contestant who isn't afraid to get into humiliating situations, while also having that combative banter side that Greg would waste no time trying to put down. And I guarantee you he'll try to squeeze in an impression whenever he can.

Susan Calman

Whenever I see Susan in the lineup on a panel show, I already know I'm gonna enjoy it. Her enthusiasm is insanely infectious, and I just know she'll want to throw herself head first into any task she'll get. Her QI episodes are legendary, and the way she can steer the entire room towards the weirdest situations has made me cry laughing numerous times. And she also seems to have a sweeter side to her that will surely make her a fan favorite.

Harriet Kemsley

There's a specific clip I saw of Harriet Kemsley on Hypothetical that was just pure insanity, and made me go "yeah, she's gonna be great on Taskmaster." Unfortunately the clip isn't accessible on US YouTube anymore for some reason, so you're gonna have to take my word for it. Between that one wild Hypothetical appearance, and her appearances on Catsdown and Guessable, Harriet is sure to be among the "chaotic" contestants, bursting with nervous energy. Something tells me that she'll also torment Alex during the tasks. Think Bridget Christie on TM but x20 at least.

Adam Hills

Can you believe I nearly forgot to include Adam Hills on this list? He's always a joy to watch on The Last Leg, and just appears to be a great human all around. He's athletic and has a great competitive spirit, but also very down to earth. Oh, and he's also hilarious and witty, and I bet he'll bring some level of sass to the studio portions of the show, with maybe a joke or two about his leg thrown in there.

Henry Paker

A bit of a left-field choice, but anyone who listens to the Three Bean Salad podcast (which also features Mike Wozniak) would agree that Henry is an odd man. His tangents on the podcast are legendary, and happen so often that someone actually calculated the speaking time between all three podcast hosts, determining Henry spoke over 10x longer than the others. His Wikipedia page sorta reads like a press release, and says Ivo Graham once called Henry's 2010 show the "funniest stand up he's ever seen." I could see him reaching Ardal or Bob levels of absurdity on the show.

Miles Jupp

I don't really know much about Miles' comedy outside of his appearances on Catsdown, but every time I see him show up during the introductions, I already know it's gonna be a great watch. His chemistry with Sean Lock (who would have easily been included on this list if things were different) was always a treat to watch, and I could watch them shoot the shit for hours on that show and not get bored.

Jamie Laing

This might be a controversial choice, since I've seen lots of people call him irritating. I know Jamie has his roots in reality TV (which I haven't watched), but the instances in which he's rubbed shoulders with comedians have really warmed me to the idea of seeing him on Taskmaster. Watching him be "confident" on House of Games despite being absolute shit at the quizzes is the perfect attitude I'd want in a Taskmaster contestant, and the comedian interviews he's done on his Private Parts podcast were excellent, and shows he already has great rapport with more established comics.

Richard Ayoade and David Mitchell

Both of these are cliche answers to the question "who do you want to see on Taskmaster," but they're brought up often for a reason: it would make for amazing television. A prevailing notion that's repeated when the prospect of Richard on TM is mentioned is that he "has a persona that he wouldn't want to break." This might also be true for David, but the joy of Taskmaster is how the show pushes back against personas and presents comedians for who they are, rather than how they would necessarily prefer to be seen. The idea of David having a breakdown over a silly, inconsequential task given to him would be the stuff of dreams, and I could already see Richard starting a task saying "I wouldn't want to do that," before immersing himself in the weirdness presented to him. Will they ever go on TM? Probably not. Do I still want it to happen? For sure. Listen, if VCM could agree, so could her husband.

And as a bonus, here's a list of comedians I don't know as much about aside from brief appearances on shows or podcasts, but have impressed me enough to want them on TM:

Jayde Adams

Cariad Lloyd

Darren Harriot

Ahir Shah

Sam Simons

Huge Davies

Nick Helm

[malewifemammon]

oh yeah baby kam's peter post made me want to share some of my own thoughts abt him (but also i didn't wanna tack em on in a reblog bc my thoughts r very related to Personal Stuff About Me and i didn't want to make their post my storytime i guess haha)

cw for mentions of sexual harassment/assault under the cut, as well as discussion of germophobia and ocd! also uh maybe some peter hate so if u don't wanna read that don't open the post! and have a nice day ^_^

so like i'm definitely not the type of person to say that nobody should ever like characters who do bad things, or that unhealthy relationships should Never be portrayed in art. so if you like peter or his dynamic with alice, please don't take this as me saying you shouldn't do that.

but like i've been into this series since i was about twelve or maybe even eleven? (long hours largely unsupervised with my best friend at the local library waiting for my mom to finish work) and while i definitely didn't understand healthy relationship dynamics all that much, i still took issue with peter forcing a kiss on alice from the get-go. i'll be honest, that along with his attitude towards her made me hate him right off the bat. these days i definitely think he has interesting and/or comedic potential in some situations, but that particular side of him still freaks me out. obviously. he was my least favorite of alice's potential interests (besides the twins).

BUT something kam brought up in their post kind of clicked with me.

around middle school, i started developing symptoms of ocd (i think triggered by a lot of stressful life events happening in quick and intense succession on top of the usual chaos of middle school). eventually it got on to be actual ocd, which i still deal with to this day. and my biggest trigger has been germs/uncleanliness. i didn't used to have this obsession with contamination, so i'm pretty sure i didn't have it when i first got into nkna. but as time went on i saw more and more of myself in that aspect of peter.

i really didn't want to, since i disliked him so much (not to mention how often ocd or similar traits are either played for jokes in most media or given to eccentric villain types to make them seem more Weird™). but over time it got harder to ignore.

kam brings up that bc of his germophobia, peter doesn't really have much experience in the way of romantic/sexual interactions. and it made me think of myself.

because aside from my tendency to not be able to interact with others all that well, my cleanliness ocd is a big stumbling block in the way of physical intimacy, of ANY kind, but especially romantic/sexual since that tends to be more... involved. and there's the screenshot of peter telling alice smth about how he doesn't mind Her Germs specifically, which is probably something i've said almost word for word to my own partner. they were my first for a lot of things, both because of my anxiety but also because of the germ thing. (side note i love them very much they're so cool and good about My Tendencies lol) and it can be really weird to be in a relationship with someone who has a lot more experience than you sometimes, because it can be easy to worry that you're somehow letting them down (not that i get the sense alice gets out all that much either, but still). but i also know the overwhelming joy and relief that comes with finding someone whose germs you don't mind.

AND IT DRIVES ME CRAZY haha because i still don't really like peter! i think it's funny to bully him but also sometimes he does genuinely anger me. and it's been an odd experience to feel myself become more like him in this very specific way over the years, to relate to some of his fears and such. not to mention, i don't remember his germophobia being played as a joke all that much?

i mean there probably are moments where it is, i wouldn't be surprised, but comparing the way he's treated as opposed to, say, death the kid from soul eater... it feels different. [i could make a whole other post about my feelings on kid but i digress]

he's just a character that i personally have a lot of really complex feelings about, because on the one hand he can be a total scumbag who i hate, but on the other hand he seems to encapsulate certain struggles i've dealt with that i don't see illustrated in media very often. he's really important to me but also i want to kick the shit out of him ^_^

anyway. i don't think i really had A Point to all of this, just wanted to jot down some of my own ideas on him ig

[clood]

Man you sent in some questions I really have to think about so here you have a few to work on in the meantime: 3, 7, 11 & 25 😅💕

hehe thank you for asking!!!

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

hmmm do i even have a writing ritual?? i feel like i don't... sometimes i'll put on one of two playlists: tunes for typing or driving too fast but i'm writing... but is that enough of a ritual??

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

aww this one is cute. i think the thing about writing (fanfiction) that brings me the most joy is getting to share in such a wonderful fandom with everyone. whether that takes the form of me sobbing over kudos or comments, or just throwing around ideas and headcanons with friends, i think it's really the people that make it so much fun.

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

pffft. i don't think i've written any TRUE mcd.. maybe in where are you roaming where killua is a ghost xD but i like to make my darlings suffer endlessly >:3c i am a darling torturer, and i suffer right along with them!!!

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

hehe i feel like this question and the previous one are where you can really tell this is for writers who write their own original stories and characters rather than fanfiction with characters that already exist and have their own preexisting set of traits xD

i’ve been trying to come up with some weirdly specific, have-nothing-to-do-with-anything headcanons, but i can’t think of any either!! wtf

please enjoy some regular headcanons (that aren’t even that new lol) as a consolation prize orz

-killua lives with chronic pain as a result of his brutal treatment as a child. all those years of dislocating all his joints and breaking all his bones can’t just melt away like that no sir

-leorio comes from a small town that’s half fishing village, half canning factory town. his mother died of complications with having a baby when leorio was young and he and his father have a very loving, yet gruff, relationship. unsure if i’ve decided i want him to be one of many siblings or an only child or something in the middle hehe i talked with extrat about leorio the other day and can’t stop thinking about him

-kurapika definitely is into textile arts as a way to preserve his culture. i saw this post by slowopoke one time and i’ve been feral for fiber arts kurapika ever since xD someday i’ll write the fic i’ve been stewing over about this

[remcycl333]

you don’t need to be happy to be manifest!! but...

who doesn’t want to be happy?

(long post alert, sorry in advance lol. but please read it all the way through, i really think it’ll be worth it<3)

ok, to preface this, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. i’ve manifested great, positive things while i was in depressive episodes. i manifested wonderful things with tears streaming down my face. BUT, i think something a lot of people overlook is that it’s really beneficial to feel positively about your desires.

this is something i realized a few months ago, saw great results from, and then forgot all about and, well, stopped seeing the progress i wanted. but i’m back on track now, don’t you worry.

(i’m going to be using the example of my sp, bc that’s what i have the most experience with, but this applies to literally anything u r manifesting) 

i’ve made a few other posts saying pretty much what i’m about to say in this next paragraph, so if you’ve already read those, i’m sorry for repeating myself. just bear with me lol. 

so i came to a realization a few months ago--and i don’t exactly remember how i came to this realization--that i kind of...hated my sp? like i fucking resented him. and i was like, wait a minute, that’s not right. i love my sp. that’s why i’m trying to manifest him! so why do i feel like this?

i used to focus on manifesting in steps, so naturally the first step was contact. so i’d be affirming all day every day “my sp is texting me right fucking now😡“ (and other variations) and then when he didn’t text me, it’d just make me angry at him. but technically, he didn’t even do anything wrong?? sure he didn’t text me, but he had no clue he was supposed to? idk it was all complicated and weird. and then when i wasn’t mad that he didn’t text me, i was having arguments with him in my head, preparing for some weird fight that my brain just assumed was going to happen whenever we did get into contact. which is weird, bc my sp and i never fight. like, this is my ex. yet i literally cannot tell you a single fight that we have ever had. we literally get along perfectly. we have never fought (or even argued) once in all the time that we’ve known each other. yet my brain was always fighting him. and it was just, exhausting?

and so one day, when i was troubleshooting, i realized: rem, if you were in a relationship right now with your sp, would u hate him? would u be constantly fighting with him? god i fucking hope not! 

now, what would i be thinking? i’d be laying in bed at night, hugging my pillow, thinking about how much i love him. reflecting on how happy he makes me, how perfect he is, how good he makes me feel. i’d be thinking about how he is the most perfect boyfriend i could ever have asked for. i’d be content after spending a long day with him, excited to spend the next day with him as well. 

and during the day i wouldn’t be wondering why he wasn’t texting me. if anything, i’d be wondering why he was texting me considering we were literally hanging out, together, at that very moment! 

i would trust him. i’d be walking on cloud nine. i’d be content. i’d be...happy. 

now, in no way am i saying that you need to be happy 24/7, or dancing on air, or feeling intense butterflies in your stomach. you’re allowed to have other emotions. you’re allowed to feel anger, you’re allowed to break down and cry! you’re allowed to have bad days. but if you’re feeling these negative emotions about your desire, i want you to try your hardest to release them. i don’t think any of us want to have breakdowns over our manifestations and cry about them, but if it happens, it happens. just pick yourself up afterwards--or stop it before it even really begins, trust me, it gets easier to do this--and maybe do a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, and remind yourself why you’re on this journey in the first place. once again using the sp example, it’s because you love your sp. because they are perfect for you! they make you happy. you love their smile, their laugh, the witty conversations you have with each other. you love being in their arms.  you love when they’re in your arms! they did something that made you fall in love with them, or want to be in a relationship with them. what was it? focus on that. 

enough with the sammy ingram (i could go on a whole rant about her) style affirmations. with the “he’s going to fucking text me, he has no choice, he’s my fucking boyfriend and he does what i say.” like....ew?? i used to say shit like this, and it was really what started making me resent my sp. i was ordering him around in my head, creating this weird dynamic between us (which, he wasn’t even aware was there), and getting mad when he wasn’t doing what i was ordering him to do. looking back, it was borderline psychotic. it was just turning it into me against him, and that’s not what i wanted at all. i want to be in a relationship with him, with mutual love. i don’t want to be his boss, or his mom, or his fucking military sergeant!! (i don’t even know if that was the proper term bc fuck the military, but u guys know what i mean lmfaooo)

(disclaimer if u use these types of affirmations and they work for you, go for it. but i used them for a while and they just weren’t it for me. carry on)

i guess what i’m trying to say is, those affirmations weren’t making me feel good. they weren’t making me feel like a “boss ass bitch”. they were making me feel...like a bitch. and strangely, powerless. i’d say these affirmations, or just bland ones where i wasn’t necessarily demanding my sp to throw himself at my feet and kiss my shoes and tell me he is nothing without me, and ultimately, if i wasn’t feeling resentment, i was feeling...nothing. 

once again, i want to make this so so so clear, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. but my belief? if your affirmations aren’t making you feel joy, or excitement, or contentment, then what’s the fucking point? if you think of your desire, and don’t feel positive feelings about it, then you might have lost your way a little. 

don’t worry!! it’s an easy fix. easy, and even...fun? rewarding? comforting? i just want you to take some time--laying in bed at night is the perfect time to do this in my experience--to think about why you want your desire so badly. do you want money? think of how great life is going to be once you have it. of all the stuff you’re going to buy, for yourself, and maybe even for others. don’t focus on the problems you want to fix with it right now. think of that clothing item you’ve had your eye on, or that book you’ve been wanting to read but haven’t felt like “wasting” money on. think of how excited you are to buy those things, because you’re going to! think of the good. not the bad.

remember: you create more of what you focus on. focus on the good, get the good. focus more on the bad...get more of the bad. 

your manifestation is done. it is created. it is on it’s way to you. it is here! all there’s left to do is feel excited. it’ll be here any moment now, how fucking exciting is that! it’s safe for you to be happy. it’s safe for you to focus on the feelings you would have if you had it, rather than focus on affirming specifically to bring it to you. it is safe to be happy. 

i used to affirm solely for contact, all day every day, and sometimes i’d get it. but it’d be short lived, my sp would be distant, etc. but then once i started focusing on truly living in the end and basking in my love for my sp, thinking about how perfect and amazing he is, i not only got contact (without having to specifically affirm for it), but he was actively engaged in our conversations, making up new topics to keep the conversation going, asking me about and expressing interest in my hobbies and interests, bringing up and reminiscing on old memories of our previous relationship, complimenting me, flirting with me, asking me to hang out, etc. shit i was not getting when i was “he is so fucking in love with me and he’s texting me right fucking now”-ing all day long. i started focusing on how amazing and perfect and good to me he was, and that’s exactly what i got in my reality. who would’ve thunk? 

and you know what? yeah, he fucking loves me. he misses me and he wants to be with me. but that’s a given. but that doesn’t fucking matter. i am the only person who matters in my reality!! sure he loves me, but do i love him??? that’s what the universe wants to know. that’s what truly fucking matters. the universe brings me my desires. so i’m gonna fucking desire it! 

guys, please trust me on this. just try it out, with whatever you’re manifesting. this could be what you’re missing. this could bring your manifestation to you. i promise, if you’re like i was and feel resententment or anger or hatred towards your desire, this is going to make you feel so fucking good. just stick with this for a week or two. i promise, you’ll see movement.

and remember, there is no one to change but self. don’t change them (or it), change your perception of them (or it). 

let’s make manifesting fun again!!! it’s the perfect tool to bring happiness into your life. so fucking let it!!!! 

so no, you don’t need to be happy in order to manifest. but....maybe, just maybe, prioritizing your happiness isn’t such a bad thing. i mean, who doesn’t want to be happy?

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“Mostly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

You can only hum in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

“Hey.”

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

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

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

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mitch.”

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

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

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mitch...I have to go.”

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

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

“It’s not that simple…”

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

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

“Plans can change, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: Fic snippet proposed by @myakkoh​ (tumblr) or BlueSapphire718 (ao3):

“I’m what?” Lan Qiren squawks, since this is the first time he’s heard anything about this. “Sworn brothers with me,” Wen Ruohan drawls. “A memorable night, really.” Lan Qiren stares. “What.” “What’s wrong?” Wen Ruohan sneers. “Can’t speak properly to Da-ge?” “You,” Lan Qiren says, “cannot be Da-ge. It sounds wrong.” “Oh?” “You, are two generations older than me. I am only sixteen.” “All the better,” Wen Ruohan says smoothly.

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

Spilled Pearls

A/N: If Tedious Joys is the story of LQR's relationship with Sect Leader Nie and how WRH impacts that, then this is the story of LQR's relationship with WRH and how Sect Leader Nie impacts that.

Please note the tagging on Ao3 for all warnings, including as to tone

- Chapter 1 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren was running to catch up, because he was always running to catch up.

He’d only been allowed to join this particular night-hunt because of Lao Nie’s interference – his brother hadn’t wanted him there, specifically because Lan Qiren was slow and overly fixated on details and not all that handy with a sword – and he was determined not to fall behind. But he was slow, as always, and tired more easily than the others, and then he got distracted and realized a considerable distance had opened up between him and the rest of the group.

He ran to catch up –

He tripped.

He was going to fall flat on his face, he realized as he pitched forward, throwing his hands up in front of his face to try to blunt the pain since humiliation was already a given. He probably wasn’t far enough behind for them not to see this, and then his brother would turn his face away and sigh, aggravated, his shoulders slumping in disappointment at how Lan Qiren had lost him and their sect face all over again.

Lan Qiren was so bound up in his gloomy thoughts that it took him a moment to realize that he had not, in fact, hit the ground.

Someone had caught him.

Even now, they were holding him by the shoulder, keeping him from falling the rest of the way down with a single hand; the posture was awkward, and must be uncomfortable for them.

Lan Qiren straightened himself up immediately and dropped into a deep salute. “Thank you for your help –”

He looked up.

“…Sect Leader Wen,” he finished weakly.

He stared briefly up into red eyes before averting his gaze. He’d thought it was Lao Nie who’d come back to help him, and out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw the familiar Nie colors turning back to the group – perhaps he had come, and was now leaving, since help wasn’t necessary any longer.

He hadn’t expected it to be Wen Ruohan, an ancient monster two generations his elder despite his deceptively youthful face – he hadn’t even realized that Wen Ruohan had decided to tag along on this night-hunt, though of course once he thought about it, it seemed perfectly reasonable. He, like all the other sect leaders, was here for the discussion conference, and a small forest town in the vicinity of the Cloud Recesses did not offer much in the way of other entertainment for outsiders. Why shouldn’t he come along on the night-hunt?

“It’s no matter,” Wen Ruohan said, and it probably wasn’t, for him. Someone with his level of cultivation could hold a kid like Lan Qiren up for a week without noticing the strain. “Did you get distracted by something back there?”

“Small blue flowers,” Lan Qiren said. “Typically associated with certain healing herbs, none of which are native to this area, and growing under an oak of all things; I was wondering if the placement had been deliberate and, if so, by whom and for what purpose. Not to mention when, since those aren’t perennial herbs; they have a longer growing cycle that requires certain meteorological conditions –”

“Aren’t we hunting serpent demons today?” Wen Ruohan asked, and Lan Qiren flinched.

They were, of course. And serpent demons wouldn’t exactly take the time to go plant healing herbs in a wild patch, so it had been a totally pointless diversion.

As usual.

“I got distracted,” Lan Qiren mumbled, his earlier enthusiasm squashed. “I’d say it won’t happen again, but it probably will, and do not lie is a rule.”

Wen Ruohan gave an amused huff. “Ah yes, the famous Lan sect rules. Do you often follow them?”

“Always!”

A hum. “I see. Well, the others have gotten rather far ahead, and I hear the sound of fighting – they must have already found the serpent demons, and will no doubt finish them off by the time we catch up.”

So he’d missed it. Lan Qiren’s shoulders drooped in disappointment.

“Why don’t you show me your flowers, instead?”

Lan Qiren looked up. Wen Ruohan was smiling.

“If you’re sure,” he said cautiously, but Wen Ruohan shrugged and nodded, and, well, Lan Qiren was supposed to be making friends with the members of the other sects, wasn’t he? Maybe no one had been thinking about the Wen sect, especially since Wen Ruohan’s last set of children had all died – someone had broken the prohibition on gossip in Lan Qiren’s presence and suggested that Wen Ruohan had something to do with that, rather than it being just bad luck, and that he’d done it because he thought he was a real immortal and therefore could always start anew, but the idea was so appalling that it surely couldn’t be true – but there wasn’t any real reason to exempt his sect or even him, either. Friends were friends, weren’t they? “It’s this way. Follow me.”

Wen Ruohan put his hands behind his back and followed Lan Qiren back towards the tree he’d found, his every motion slow and stately as if he were walking in a garden rather than the forest. Lan Qiren found himself mildly jealous.

To distract himself – envying others was against the rules! – he started explaining about the flowers he’d recognized and the types of herbs he thought the plant might be, citing the treatises he’d read about their usual spread and growing patterns and the uses for each one. Somewhere along the line he got distracted, though, because Wen Ruohan mentioned something about the Lan sect rules again, except he got it wrong; there was no rule against excessive verbosity, only against frivolous speech, and while there was a positive rule that counseled speaking meagerly, that was explicitly meant to avoid words that could bring harm and therefore did not apply to intellectual discussions.

Delighted as always to talk about his favorite subject, Lan Qiren promptly launched into an explanation as to the history of the debate as to whether there should be an affirmative prohibition against excessive speech, the various points on either side, the historical texts on the subject, the storied history of the rules regarding the need for an exchange of ideas in furthering education balanced against the exhortation not to take words lightly…

“Look at me,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren obeyed at once. Wen Ruohan was his elder, although not of his sect, and by this point Lan Qiren was used to elders disapproving of how his flickering gaze tended not to settle on people and his preference to look at things through his peripheral vision, and of being ordered to meet their gaze.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes were red, as he’d noticed before, and his gaze was heavy and thoughtful, somehow ponderous. It felt almost like pressure against his skin or maybe his mind.

Maybe I should change subjects or be quiet, Lan Qiren thought to himself, the thought coming to him almost involuntarily, but then he realized that if he did, Wen Ruohan wouldn’t hear about the three-day conference that had been held in his great-grandparents’ generation that specifically focused on the rules that related to speech. And that would be an awful shame, wouldn’t it?

So he kept going.

He kept up the eye contact, though. The elders didn’t always like that, either – when he did hold someone’s gaze, he would stare too directly and too long, not knowing when it was appropriate to turn away, but he figured Wen Ruohan would simply tell him. He’d reminded him about the eye contact earlier, hadn’t he?

“How old are you?” Wen Ruohan suddenly asked, just as Lan Qiren was taking a deep breath, having finished explaining the conference and about to launch into a discourse on the follow-up texts that had been written in the immediate aftermath.

Lan Qiren blinked, distracted by the apparent non sequitur. “Thirteen,” he said.

Wen Ruohan hummed thoughtfully. “Thirteen. Interesting.”

“Is it?” Lan Qiren asked, bemused. “I think it’s a rather boring age. I’m old enough for more chores, but not old enough to have free access to the library or go on night-hunts on my own.”

Wen Ruohan chuckled. His voice was very deep. “I was more commenting on your strength of mind, which is remarkable for your age. I do not recall the age itself,” he said, his tone a little dry. He was ancient, so it was reasonable for him to forget having been thirteen. “Has anyone ever told you about the ways in which cultivation can be used to influence the thoughts and will of others?”

Lan Qiren thought about it. “I think so? There’s a text that says that weak-willed cultivators can be swayed through external pressure wielded by a stronger person’s cultivation, and the larger the power gap between the cultivators, the more effective the influence can be…I don’t remember which text it was, though. I could look up the citation for you when we return –”

“No need. I am not in search of sources.”

Wen Ruohan probably had his own library full of sources, Lan Qiren reflected, and nodded.

“Oh, we’re here,” he said, noticing, and pointed to the flowers. “See, like I told you earlier, it has the characteristic qualities of –”

“Qiren!”

Lan Qiren flinched.

That was his brother’s voice, and he didn’t sound happy.

“Sect Leader Wen,” his brother said, striding into the clearing where they were standing and saluting in a somewhat perfunctory fashion. “I appreciate you taking the time to watch over my younger brother – please forgive him for any impertinence or insult –”

Lan Qiren’s shoulders were up by his ears and his whole face was red with shame. He hated how his brother apologized for him before he even checked whether Lan Qiren had even done anything; it was embarrassing that his brother always thought so little of him.

Maybe he wasn’t talented the way his brother was, but he wasn’t that bad, he didn’t think.

“Think nothing of it, Qingheng-jun,” Wen Ruohan was saying in return. “We were merely spending some time together. I assume the serpent demons have been taken care of?”

“Yes, they have,” Lan Qiren’s brother said. “There’s some debate regarding the disposition of the corpses, if you’d like to join in – forgive us both, but I have to take my brother back to make sure he doesn’t miss curfew.”

Curfew wasn’t for another two shichen, so Lan Qiren had no idea what his brother was talking about, but he obediently saluted Wen Ruohan and followed his brother away.

The moment they were out of view, his brother reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, squeezing far too tightly, and tugged meaningfully, glaring when Lan Qiren opened his mouth to protest.

Lan Qiren didn’t understand what his brother was trying to convey.

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Qiren started to say, and felt his lips abruptly seal together – it was the muting spell. He could break it, of course, being a member of the Lan sect as well, but his brother was his elder; he should wait patiently until he removed it. Still, he was a little indignant that his brother felt the need to use it on him. He didn’t even know what he’d done wrong!

(The glare, he thought. The glare must have been a secret message to not speak, and he’d missed it.)

His brother didn’t say anything as they got on their swords, and he didn’t let go of Lan Qiren’s wrist, either, tugging him along as if he thought Lan Qiren was stupid enough to get lost on the way home. A feeling of shame, the sensation of having made some terrible error and not having realized it again, settled in Lan Qiren’s belly and steadily got worse and worse as they traveled.

It wasn’t until they were back at the inn that was housing everyone during the night-hunt that his brother released his hand.

“You shouldn’t let yourself be alone with Sect Leader Wen,” he said, which surprised Lan Qiren – he’d expected his brother to jump straight into listing out all the ways Lan Qiren had embarrassed him at the night-hunt. He hadn’t been expecting his brother to say something like that at all.

“Why not?” he asked, and his brother glared at him. “You didn’t want to babysit me, and I was falling behind. He wanted to see the flowers –”

“He was humoring you,” his brother interrupted. “Everyone always humors you, but no one actually ever cares about whatever nonsense you’re rambling on about this week. Don’t you know that especially powerful cultivators can affect the mind of the weak-willed?”

Lan Qiren blinked. What a strange coincidence, both his brother and Sect Leader Wen mentioning the exact same thing. “Yes,” he said. “I know. In fact –”

“I don’t want to hear another one of your stupid citations,” his brother said, cutting him off, and making Lan Qiren feel stupid and resentful again – he hadn’t even been about to cite anything! “Anyone who’s ever met you can figure out that you’re little better than a half-wit, all right? Wen Ruohan is a petty person, capable of anything, even only on a whim. Don’t spend time alone with him. Consider it another rule.”

“You don’t have the authority to make rules!”

“Do not disrespect your elders,” his brother snapped, and Lan Qiren bowed his head, acknowledging the point. “Now do me a favor and stay here until the conference is over – I should be back with the rest of them, acting in Father’s place as the sects divide up the spoils. I can’t believe I’m here taking care of you again instead.”

Lan Qiren wrung his hands together. He hadn’t intended anything like that. “Xiongzhang –”

“Have I made myself clear?”

“…yes, xiongzhang.”

“Good.” His brother was on his sword and flying back towards the forest before Lan Qiren could even blink. He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye.

Lan Qiren supposed he didn’t have to. It wasn’t like Lan Qiren was going anywhere.

At least, not yet. He was already thirteen – less than ten years and he’d be advanced enough to go anywhere he liked, to be a traveling musician and cultivator the way he’d always planned. He’d be able to help people and spend time with anyone he liked, or not spend time with anyone at all if he didn’t feel like it, and there would be nothing his brother could do to stop him.

[choptop-sawyer]

Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.

[angelic-jeonghan1004]

Dancing with ENHYPEN at a ball

Okay so I've been to many balls and masquerades in my day actually I used to go to 3 specific ones every year for the past 7 or so years so Enhypen doing something with a similar vibe in concept photos had me very excited. I can usually read someone on how they are as a dance partner by their initial bow and as we saw from the Instagram stories all of them did a bow and all had their own characterisc charm so here I am to put that into words for you :) also my first ever enha writing! Sorry if some are longer than others

Genre: fluff, first meet, non relationship (still some romantic charm for a few)

Warnings: none

Pairing: Enhypen x gn reader

Gif credits to me this time actually

Heeseung

He'd be my favorite to dance with by far (along with Jake and Sunghoon theyre just my favorite type of people at masquerades/balls)

He'd be one to take you around the entire ballroom and spin you like crazy

No specific crazy moves

Just swaying with you around the room with many twirls

It'd be so comfortable no pressure at all

Just no care in the world

He'd guide you through the whole room and very playful with a big grin on his face

Conversation is very fun just full of giggles with how little effort in dancing to replace with twirling

The spinning around the room is such pure fun and filled with so much laughter and he's just happy to make you happy

Would want everything to feel like a cheery fairytale

So to see you in pure glee he's just so energetic and happy as well

Plus he's also having the time of his life

Would find your way to the center of the ballroom or a more so isolated area to which he'd ask if he could dip you

The dip would be so cheesy and romantic even if you where complete strangers

One to kiss your hand when parting

"thank you for a joy-filled dance"

Jay

The flirtatious gentleman

He'd have confidence in his walk when going up to you

Would hold his hand out to you acting like a true gentleman straight out of a fairytale

"would you like to share this dance?"

Then when you accept he'd ask your comfortablity levels

When you take his hand he'd guide you closer to him so he could put his hand on your waist

He'd be one for small talk while dancing with like an underlining level of flirting (if you're okay with that)

if not he'd just be chilling talking to you on how your evening has been

Would be one to dip you when dancing

Spin you multiple times in a row and that whole time have that specifc grin (you know the one the :D happy Jay one)

Would definitely also be the gentleman when you finish dancing he'd say

"thank you for sharing this dance with me" then bow.

Kiss your hand if you're okay with that

We love the flirtatious gentleman agenda that's for sure

Jake

I swoon at the idea omg

One of my favorite kind of dancers that hold some sort of magic in them

The one to be where it doesn't matter if you've never ballroom danced before

Since when you dance with him it's like you've been doing this all your life like it's muscle memory

(dancers like this own my heart please give me your sorcery I'm talking about you Mr tango man who I had never danced tango once in my life but once on the dance floor with him was like I was a pro for years)

very respectful and super sweet

Trys to keep a steady and good conversation with you

Learns a lot about you and you learn a lot about him in the 3-5 minute dance

After the dance is done would give you one last spin then bow with a giggle

would smile at you when making eye contact throughout the rest of the evening when crossing paths

Sunghoon

My mans got many moves but he goes for the classics

would do simple ballroom 1234 steps

A great partner for a beginner or first time ballroom

Teach you the basic steps and gives that toothy grin

Cautious of stepping on feet but would be very sweet and understanding if you stepped on his feet accidentally

Due to the simple movements it's easy to talk with him and not get to anxious messing up the footwork once you get a hang of it

Will spin you and show you the different ways people are spined so you can learn how to do them correctly so you don't get tangled when spinning with other people

Or let you spin him to flex his excellent spinning skills

Very charming

Doesn't do the most intense of moves since he wants the experience to be enjoyful and relaxing with less pressure

If you have a lot of experience in dancing already he may amp up the level but not too bad

Sunoo

Sunoo seems like a lot of fun

he'd be a mixture of Riki and Sunghoon

Simple steps and would have a firm hand on your waist

He'd be immediately talking with you and joking with you

"so what brings you here?" wiggling his eyebrows pls y'all would be so loud from laughter

Would love spinning you!! And you could spin him too he finds it so much fun

If he saw someone dancing with someone super well and ethereal

Oh boy that's a battle

He'd take that as a challenge

So then both of you had the goal to out do them

You'd move to the center of the room doing basic outgoing moves(example both spinning out at once, trying to lift the other gracefully ect) so that gets people's eyes on you

There'd be a lot of laughter definitely at how ridiculous it was to be trying to out do those other people

would definitely once finishing dancing if later in the night you both have no partners would come up to you once again and be a continuous partner throughout the dance

Jungwon

Someone help this boy please

Gives me the tense awkward vibe?

Being so scared to overstep boundaries he'd be so stiff

Boys hands would be clamy but strictly at your waist

Like he'd be super sweet don't get me wrong!!

But be so respectful he'd end up being tense

Makes sure not to over step boundaries

You'd have a good conversation and he’d slowly get less tense as the dance continues

Would apologize for his hands getting a bit sweaty

If you danced together again later in the night or saw you at another ball your next dance he’d be way less tense

Definitely a gentleman though

When the dance ends he’d bow squeezing your hand lightly before biding farewell

“Thank you for dancing with me”

Riki

Riki would be a little tense (I know surprising from the amazing dancer he is)

In the beginning a little awkward

But gradually as the song escalates would be more calm and loosen up

His hand would have a little bit of a firm grip on your waist (the only thing making him tense is from idea of over stepping boundaries)

He'd be a little bad at small talk in the beginning

But once he loosens up he'd let loose of the tension the conversations got better

Went from

“How are you this evening?” very awkward to

“You see those two over there? Have you noticed how they both keep stepping on each others feet then glaring at each other?”

Trying both your best to not laugh at the situation in from of you to be kind

But when your conversation is finally going well and pure fun

Just having an amazing time of fun joking around and getting to know each other

The song ends

Now you have two options

You share another dance

or say a bittersweet goodbye

[ohhthereuare]

cannot believe we’re back to shipping wars in the year of our lord 2021 but with the overwhelmingly stupid cancel culture and moral police on every corner making it almost impossible to simply enjoy stuff these days I had to chime in my 5 kruge cents or else I’d choke

nobody gives a flying fuck about who you ship and neither should you because this is very rarely up to you. it’s like a god-chosen enlightenment, a sudden rush of serotonin that mysteriously dictates what’s gonna rock your boat from now on. that is great. grab that wheel and get on with it.

you don’t have to justify any of that. and I wish it was clear enough but apparently it still isn’t that villains are called villains for a reason and murder is murder no matter the motive. we know. trust me we do. but I guess that’s half the charm of a work of fiction that a character can be interesting despite its flaws. hell most of the time it’s interesting thanks to its flaws. when you say you like them it doesn’t mean you run to justify their sins and therefor imply these new moral conclusions to your everyday life and real people in it. it just means that this particular fictional creature makes your brain go happy. be them a ball of sunshine or a ball of darkness. you’ll enjoy their actions in a specific media and then get on with your life as an intelligent, morally responsible member of a society that will definitely not go on a killing spree because a fictional guy in a cool cape that doesn’t even exist did so in a story.

now getting that lengthy introduction out of the way I cannot believe that people cannot engage in an intellectually stimulating critical thinking discourse (that back in the day we just called meta) without criticizing every thing or else apparently they’ll go to literal hell. the Darkling is overall a bad guy and Mal is overall a good guy. that’s what the story it built upon. then again both of them are grey to some extent as people are because they are people. they have thoughts and desires and justify themselves because they believe in a greater good that sometimes they personally created. there’s no reason to compare the Darkling who’s straight-up a millenium-old murderer who just happens to be very charismatic and sexy to Mal who’s more human and the mistakes he makes are less of the murderous nature and as it unfortunately happens he’s just more plain. I’d be happy with Alina ending with either of them, knowing full well that there would be good and bad sides to either of the endings. even if the positive outcome of Alina ending up with the bad guy was only a sense of aesthetic fulfillment. that is all. I can say I see and understand the manipulation and the toxicity and still enjoy a power couple dressed in black cloaks the same way I’d enjoy childhood sweethearts leading a safe and quite life. whatever rocks my boat.

if we look at Leigh Bardugo’s work in a simple, quite superficial way then yes it is the question of black and white, good and bad. but it’s more than that and it’s one of the many reasons why it’s one of my favorite books series ever (let’s not go all JKR on her because as I’ve seen some of you do because apart from obvious situations no creator of anything should to held to impossibly pure moral standards making their work morally flawless because it’s based on their own personal experience and it’s impossible to stop some of it from seeping into the work itself even if you personally might find it problematic but they’re human just like you and me and I cannot believe I even have to type this rn). now I’m not wasting my time writing this essay and you reading it to stir up a ship war and I am NOT here as a darklina shipper because in the end I was quite happy with malina getting their happily ever after. but I cannot STAND this sudden wave of frantic justification and of hate towards it because it’s all missing the point.

the Darkling is a villain. the Darkling is a human being (to some extent). the Darkling is the bad character but he’s more grey than black and it’s Alina’s own opinion. THAT’s what’s so interesting about their relationship. he hurt her and the people she loved and hurt people she didn’t even know only to pin the blame on her to guilt trip her to do his bidding. we know it’s toxic and manipulative. Alina knows that too. she hates him and fears him and at times would kill him without hesitation. but she also comes back to him and can’t help but marvel and his beauty and genuinely sheds a tear when he falls. it’s hard to say whether she loves him to some extent, I think even she wasn’t sure and felt quite guilty about it. there’s was a strange pull she couldn’t deny, a wicked sense of understanding that could not be matched by anyone else. despite their chemistry she couldn’t overlook the murder part and that’s who she chose. that’s also who she became because if she had accepted his offer and went down that powerful path we would have been given a completely different story with Alina being a different character. it’s that magic of fiction that lets you explore such extremes but it still is just fiction. it’s okay to type lengthy essays about it to pick it apart and examine with interest but there’s very little point to criticize something so obvious or defend the impossible.

now still on the topic of the Darkling that’s what I love about the show. how Ben Barnes looked for the human parts in him (which is also literally his job as an actor to find parts of the character that he could sympathize with idk why are y’all so surprised and scandalized and y’all better leave my man Ben alone). parts that might have been lonely and misunderstood because that’s how the Darkling saw himself. he had to justify his own actions somehow because he believed he was right. a bad villain is bad by nature. a good villain makes you question whether he’s really bad, makes you justify his villainous actions with him. showing the Darkling express real emotions towards Alina, hope for their shared future, tears in his eyes as she turns her back on him just made him that much more interesting and multidimensional as a great character should be. a great character can still be a murderer. a murderer can still be a great character. it has nothing to do with them being a good person. but it doesn’t erase the toxic behaviors just by being sexy the same way that toxic behaviors have a hard time erasing the sexy part and if you find it sexy in fiction that’s great go on reblogging passionate darklina gifsets and if you can’t stand it even on paper that’s fine too enjoy your heartwarming malina handholding posts. fill in your “rip to alina but I’m different” preferable scenario and let it bring you joy.

Leigh Bardugo is a great author. Ben Barnes is a great actor. actually all the actors are great actors and they did a marvelous job of bringing our beloved characters to life and we cannot even imagine the burden of responsibility they must have felt. let’s try to be less negative and more grateful for a really well-done book adaptation and surround ourselves with people that share our likes and dislikes in a respectful and positive manner and hopefully not foolishly trust that people can tell the good from the bad in real life and still enjoy both in a work of fiction.

[sixeyesgojo]

Team Gojo as flowers

Summary: Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara and Sukuna as types of flowers

Characters: stated above

Content warning: mild manga spoilers

Word count: -

A/N: I’d appreciate feedback here (and in general) because I’m not sure whether to do this kind of hc for other JJK characters or not. I am thinking of Toge in particular because I love my salmon boy. Also fyi, this was some time after 135 but before 140 for sure.

Gojo Satoru  - Nemophila

I just saw these and immediately thought about how good they would suit him???

another name for them would be baby blue eyes (no, I had no idea beforehand)

they symbolize prosperity, victory, success or triumph over an enemy

flashback to Gojo beating Jogo tf up... but add a nemophila field in the background <3

That being said, his profile literally states that he is perfect in every way (except for his personality but we still love that, right?), so if this isn't success in every way then idk

This flower's essence is also said to be helpful for those who put up a mask over their painful sensitivity

Gojo also displays characteristics of cynism and mistrust towards the higher-ups

Furthermore, I think he is a little anti-social - doesn't have a lot of friends. As someone from the secret Jujutsu World, he's bound to be hidden in a way. This is enforced by the fact that he is the strongest, so a lot of people and curses are out to get his head. I'd think he doesn't keep anyone too close to him so that they do not become a target for anyone. Must be traumatizing to be him.

This flower helps soothen the soul's conflict, healing it slowly, which is exactly what Gojo needs imo

it really is the perfect flower for him

but it's native to North America

Yeah, watch him teleport there to bring back a bouquet of them for his s/o

Itadori Yuji - Protea (orange)

This kind of flower comes in many different shapes, which is why it's a symbol of transformation, which is exactly what Yuji embodies by going from a regular human being to being a Jujutsu sorcerer

Diversity: Yuji is open to anything, Gojo even described him as "having a few screws loose up there". I don't even think he questions how he is being taught by Gojo or anything for that matter?

Yuji also embodies courage and is known to be daring and i don't think i need to explain this one further

I mean, the boy literally jumped right into a curse to rescue Sasaki and Iguchi and help Megumi while not even knowing what a curse is

Orange proteas represent cheerfulness, joy and happiness - if that isn't our sunshine boy, then idk. After what happened to Junpei, he seemed a little down at first but recent episodes have shown that he will not slow down because of that and will keep on being the energetic fluffball of joy that he is.

moreover, they also symbolize unlimited possibilities as his cursed technique so far probably isn't even his final technique yet - compared to Nobara's hammer and Megumi's shikigami. All we know is that Sukuna's techniques are going to be his over time but we don't even know the full extent of the said curse's power yet

If anyone ever mentioned all this to him and showed him the flower, he would think it looks weird at first but will grow to find it interesting (especially the shape). It's not like the flower is native to Japan, so he most likely wouldn't have seen it anywhere.

Gets really excited if you were to give this baby one of these flowers

Fushiguro Megumi - Anemone (purple)

hear me out

The most common symbol for the purple Anemone is 'protection against evil'. While it's Megumi's primary focus in his line of work as a professional, you ought to know he became a sorcerer in the first place because of his sister, Tsukimi.

Fragility: While Megumi shows a lot of potential for growth, it's also said that he will most likely stagnate due to the mental aspect. He's pretty insecure about his own abilities and doesn't think much of himself but that doesn't mean he won't use his powers in order to protect someone.

Anticipation: As previously stated, Megumi shows a lot of potential as a sorcerer, even to the point that Sukuna (mind you, the creature that only cares about himself) has praised him and will not hesitate to make Megumi a pawn to whatever his big, mysterious plans may be. With that being said, if Sukuna himself is interested in our blue-haired boy, we can anticipate great things from Megumi in the foreseeable future.

This specific flower seems to be a double-edged sword in terms of symbolism. In some cultural circles, it is believed to be a symbol of bad luck, whereas in other areas it's seen as a lucky charm (in which we hope this is the one for our boy). I see the same principle applying to Megumi's descent and his mysterious technique - not gonna elaborate further though (feel free to ask though)

a rather dark symbol for this particular flower: "death of a loved one". In this case, I am referring to Tsukimi, his step-sister. She may not be dead but it is indicated that she is in a comatose state due to being cursed. It seems that Megumi does not know when - or rather whether - she will wake up or not. Knowing this boy, he probably has tried anything and everything in his power to wake her up (hell, he probably even consulted Gojo) but nothing worked so far. This poor boy is anxious about it all the time.

he's surprised anyone would even associate him with flowers but wouldn't mind it

Kugisaki Nobara - Orchid (mainly orange)

I had some trouble finding something for her but orchids seem to suit her best

couldn't really pick a particular color though but I am leaning towards orange

orange orchids represent: pride, enthusiasm and boldness

Nobara is very proud of who she is. She strikes me as a person who is not afraid to tell her story, even though she despices the countryside where she is from. She also takes pride in staying true to herself all the time, to the point of admitting that she only enrolled in Jujutsu High so that she could move to Tokyo to Yuji, who was basically a stranger at that time

She is also very enthusiastic about her own future. She knows she won't ever like having to exorcise curses but somehow, being a Jujutsu sorcerer excites her.

plus points for her being enthusiastic about winning in the Kyoto Goodwill Event Arc and just beating up the Kyoto students

I don't need to mention her being enthusiastic about shopping and sightseeing in big cities, do I?

Bold? Oh, she is bold. She has no filter when it comes to speaking her mind and would never hesitate to put anyone in their place. I see her going places in Gojo's revolution... and cussing at the superiors.

Yellow symbolizes new beginnings and friendships. Nobara does not have any problems making new friends, she adapts fairly well in new environments. There's also the way she mourned for Yuji, despite "only knowing him for two weeks" and I don't even doubt for a second that it was her making him hold the black funeral picture frame when he came back lol

Pink: grace, femininity, joy + purple: royalty and admiration

There is no doubt that Nobara tries to enjoy her life to the fullest *cough* moving to Tokyo

Moreover, there is something about her that just screams "queen behavior" to me and I don't even mean that in the slang sense. Have you all seen how graceful this girl moves? (I would like to thank MAPPA at this point)

Nobara shows respect where it's due - I'm just gonna mention Maki here - but is a very admirable girl herself

probably has an orchid plant in her room, ngl

Ryomen Sukuna - Snapdragon

please, the name already sounds a little dangerous

This flower shares a certain character trait with him: being unique

Snapdragons are usually associated with strength due to the way they even grow in rocky areas and if that's not screaming Sukuna's name, who is all about strength, then correct me

Deviousness is practically Sukuna's second name, so this symbol isn't exactly off the track either. Let me remind you about the way Sukuna and Mahito laughed at Yuji??

Graciousness: just like Nobara, he possesses some sort of grace that makes me percept him as a majestic being

but maybe that's just his throne of bones and title as King of Curses contributing

and him owning a shrine???

or maybe that is just the way he majestetically killed that special grade lol

"Only large insects like bumblebees can pollinate snapdragons because the petals are too heavy for smaller insects to push apart." I read this and if you reverse it a little, it somehow reminded me of the fact that Sukuna's fingers need to have a powerful vessel aka small fry won't do because they will simply die away.

Deception: despite being given the minimum amount of information about Sukuna in general, I just don't see him being anything but egoistic and evil. I just cannot picture it. So yeah, put everything evil in a pot, stir a little and don't be surprised if your result is not the Powerpuff girls but a four-eyed multi-talented and deceptive curse that is out to kill you for fun

[isabellehemlock]

🏆

Thanks Bee for sending me a reader ask 😍

🏆 "What do you wish more authors in your fandom would write about?"

This is such a loaded question that could go multiple ways lol . . . But I think the reader asks are looking for subject matter, so let's head there 😅

Though before I do, allow me to say, that though there are some tropes that I enjoy, or fics I'll blog about because I really resonated with something, I don't think my personal opinion should really sway any author in any way. It's one thing to share resource posts about a subject matter, and another to inadvertently imply my personal opinion is like the standard to aim for.

Also, this got way longer, and heavier than I ever thought it would so quick cw warning for themes of religious LGBT+ character representation and (non descriptive references to) spiritual abuse mentioned below.

Okay all that being said . . . Honestly? I, and many other faithful people (of any religion, not just Christians) are on a spectrum that is not heteronormative. It can feel like a fairly niche group to toe the line between two very specific identities and some of my greatest joys have been to write and read about characters like me (I know, I know, self projection to the extreme). If you ever wanted to read a post that spoke to me on a core level about how exhausting it can feel to navigate those two things (though it ends on a hopeful note), please check out this one that I keep on my phone.

I've been truly blessed to have had opportunities of discussions with other people of faiths in this fandom about LGBT+ issues, but some of us would love to see more representation for both religious and LGBT+ affirming, because it can feel so miniscule. But we exist, and even the smallest possibility to see that in fandom spaces and across platforms - where it can echo our real life experiences - just yeah, it really does mean something to see it.

You weren't there last November, Bee, but @mostlyimmortal commissioned the header in my blog for me for my birthday - it's Joe and Nicky in the helicopter scene, praying together and holding prayer beads of their respective faiths. I literally started crying when I saw it and recorded a video I shared bc my hands were too shaky to type it all out. I was a blubbering mess trying to express my thanks because I was seeing something so deeply personal that spoke to a younger version of myself. It felt both healing and like a relief. I love that picture.

Of course the other half of all of this is the very real and hard truth that religious trauma exists - in fact I've personally experienced spiritual abuse in relation to my sexuality as well - and the last thing I would ever want someone to do is to read something that involves a religious LGBT+ character and have a triggering response - it's why I over tag my fics. And I definitly don't mean to come across as suggesting anyone should make themselves push through a discomfort and write something that would bring pain (writing should bring joy, or healing, but never pain). Same goes for reading, I would never want anyone to pressure themselves to read my fics and experience anything but either joy, or healing, or both.

And really, the fact is within this fandom, we have no concrete evidence that any of the characters are religious (maybe Nicky with the script leak and some visual comic references but again maybe) and gosh, my brain is tired, I forgot about Nile and her cross and her "not my God" line (thanks Bee). So frankly a fic where they are not religious, or used to be but now hate all things religious is no less valid of a take. Just want to be super clear about that.

So long it's tagged accordingly so each reader can make an informed decision about whether to read it or not, I'll admit I'd love to see more of the TOG characters as religious LGBT+, and I know I'm not the only one 😊

[marchioness-caprina]

Confessions

Pairings : Reader x Bakugou

Writing Style : 1st Person and 3rd Person

Warning : A Lot of Swearing

Word Count : 3639

____________________

Y/n's POV

" I Just don't Know what To do Izuku! You're Telling Me He Likes me but he barely even takes a glance at me! The bad thing is that whenever I try approaching him... Or even expressing my Love for him... He screams bloody murder and roasts me like there's no tomorrow! " I complained as I buried my face within my palms .

I was on the verge of tears simply because of a shitty crush. I felt Izuku's Hand caress my head as He stared down at me with a sympathetic gaze.

" There, There y/n. Let it all out " He muttered making me want to cry even more but I wasn't done venting.

" I've been chasing him ever since we were in middle school! Ironic how I give nothing but love but receive pain instead... I think... I should finally Give up" I whispered the last part and Izuku's movements were put in a halt.

" Really? After everything you've been doing for him? You'll just give up?! That's not you y/n! You're the type of person who fights with everything you've got without losing hope! And that's pretty admirable! I may not be as close with Kaachan as I was before but I know for a fact that he likes you too and is just too... Errr... Umm... How do I say this? Uhh He just has a really big Ego to admit it " He tried lifting my spirit up but I was tired. My heart was tired and I just wanted to... Give up or maybe Just Rest for a couple of weeks.

" Yeah? Well you think pretty Highly of Me Izuku.... But I'm weak too you know and there are battles I must quit.... I'll just try to recollect myself and rest for a few weeks Or so, I'll have to set my Priorities straight too... Ya know... If you get what I mean and all " I chuckled trying to mask the pain and it was futile. Izuku can read me like an open book.

He gave me a solemn look before nodding. This little cinnamon roll is just too kind and understanding, he even accompanied me to this very cafe we were in when he saw me looking down coming out of the Dorms.

" I get it, People need to cool off from time to time " He gave me a small smile and I returned it with a grin.

" Hey! You know there's this Carnival That was set up last week and it's their last day today! I had two tickets and tried inviting Katsuki.... I mean Bakugou Yesterday and he almost blew these tickets away.... It would be a waste if we don't use it so why don't we start my Personal Growth and healing by having Fun!? " I exclaimed and Izuku looked genuinely as excited as me.

" Really!? Sure! I'd like to go! It's been awhile since I actually had fun because of all the Pressure and Stress! " He smiled and I grabbed his hand immediately and dragged him out of the cafe and Off to The carnival we Go!.

_________________

" Man! And Don't even get me started on the Food there! Although the Almight Mascot looked Really Weird it was still fun! " I Beamed as Izuku opened the front door.

" Yeah! And the Fireworks were awesome Too! I'm really glad we hung out today! " He bashfully stated as we simultaneously stepped inside .

" And Where have you two gone to? Maybe you shouldn't have came back if you'd show up in the middle of the damn night " Aizawa sensei suddenly appeared out of nowhere making me and Izuku flinch in shock.

" W-why... Hello there sensei " Midoriya stuttered fear ridden as he glanced down at me.

' Shit we're screwed '

" Guys! I believe it was extremely irresponsible to be gone without a word and come back at an unearthly hour! You could have atleast sent one of us a message or even answered Our calls! So we wouldn't be this anxious of your arrival! " Iida Sped walked towards me and Izuku and that's when we noticed that everyone was still up and gathered in the common room.

" We were so worried about you guys! We thought a villain took you or something! "

" Not cool dude, Aizawa Sensei almost flipped and called out a search team to look for you guys "

" You could have told us before you left "

Came the concerned comments of our classmates. It made my heart swell up with Joy and at the same time Guilt.

" We're so Sorry! " Me and Izuku yelled in Sync bowing our heads.

" It was my fault! I forgot my phone in my room! And Izuku was just accompanying me to a small cafe in town... And I invited him to go have fun at the carnival... To Distress.... I didn't think you guys would be this worried but thank you for worrying about us! " I yelled an apology and Izuku was fast to take the blame.

" No it's my fault! I turned off my phone and left without informing anyone and without thinking of the consequences! Neither me and y/n were aware of the time. We won't do it again! We're sorry guys" Izuku frowned as I placed my hand on his shoulder.

With a sigh Aizawa gave us a stern look scratching the back of his head before speaking.

" Look, this better not happen again or else you two will be in serious trouble. You're lucky tomorrow's a Sunday so No school . Just make sure to say something next time and not disappear without a trace "

" Yes sensei! " Izuku answered while I nodded my head vigorously.

As Aizawa continued his Lecture my eyes drifted towards the crowd of my classmates and what surprised me was that Bakugou was Present. He was awake. Did he actually give a fuck?... No he's probably dragged into this by Kaminari or Kirishima.

After a long 30 minutes of sermon Aizawa sensei finally let us go.

In the end everyone returned to their rooms and Before I went to mine I gave Izuku a Hug as a ' Thank you for being there for me ' and I was unaware of a pair of crimson red eyes staring at us.

_____________

The Next Day

_____________

I heard knocking on my door which forced me to wake up and open the door and to my surprise it was Izuku and Uraraka.

" Morning Guys.... What brings you here? " I yawned blinking my eyes as the two chuckled at my messy appearance.

Bed hair, oversized t shirt and drool on the corner of my lips.

" We came here to invite you for breakfast! Everyone is gathered in the common room! You're a pretty heavy sleeper! Jirou and Momo tried waking you up earlier and there was no answer " Uraraka explained but still, sleep was very much alive in my system and I just gave a lazy nod before hanging again.

" Looks like she's still Tired Uraraka, you go on ahead we'll catch up with you" Izuku offered and Uraraka was fast to jolt away a from us.

" Ok! But you better not let her go back to sleep Deku! Everyone's counting on you to wake her up! " Uraraka yelled as she headed downstairs.

I was swaying back and forth with my eyes half lidded and I had a sudden urge to sleep on the floor.

" Still sleepy? " Izuku asked and fortunately I was still awake enough to give him a nod.

" Wanna get on my back? I'll carry you down stairs so you'll have time to rest " He offered while turning his back against me and bending down.

Without hesitation I fell on his back and subconsciously wrapped my arms around his neck and my head resting on his back.

I felt his scarred hand grip my thighs and he lifted me off the ground and started walking.

Honestly I didn't know how long it took him to get to the common room but I was happy I had a really nice friend to carry me like this.

" Wow, Midoriya when we told you to get Y/n we didn't know you'd actually ' Get ' Her " The familiar Voice of Kaminari commented and I was thankfully awake or more like I forced myself to be awake.

I peeked my eyes at him and stuck my tongue out.

" Yeah you're just jealous cause Izuku is Carrying me " I retorted and Izuku's chest vibrated in a small chuckle.

" You two a Thing Now or something? " Mina grinned pointing at us with her chopsticks.

" No Mina we're not a Thing. We're People " I countered and she gave a light laugh.

" Smart move y/n. Smart move "

" Do you want me to put you down now? " Izuku asked as he looked back at me and I shook my head.

" No, I like being carried by you. You're really warm " I smirked and the poor boy's face overheated with embarrassment.

" Oo~ are you sure you two aren't a Thing? " Uraraka Teased giving me and Izuku a suggestive wink.

" So you're dumping Bakugou for Midoriya or something? " Kaminari crackled with laughter and the whole room fell into a cold silence.

As if everyone knew something I should be aware of.

" Me and Bakugou aren't Dating in the first place, I don't think we'll ever be together too " I confidently stated and I could hear gasps and the shock faces of my classmates didn't go unnoticed.

" S-She called him Bakugou and Not Katsuki! " Mineta Yelled in panic as he stared at me with wide eyes.

Suddenly a loud bang was heard from one of the tables. Specifically the Table Bakugou was on.

He had slammed his hand on the table along with his chopsticks and he was seething with so much anger and... Are my eyes lying? Is that jealousy!?.

" I ain't fucking hungry! " He yelled and stood up violently that the chair fell off.

He started stomping his way towards us. I was never afraid of Him.... Well not until Now atleast.

" Deku " He growled lowly and I could feel Izuku tremble.

Immediately, I got down from his back and when Katsuki was close enough I stepped infront of Izuku.

" Stay Back Bitch! " He hissed and I stood my ground.

" No you Stay back Asshole! What is your problem!? Why don't you mind your own fucking Business! " I snapped harshly poked his Chest with each word I uttered.

He glared at me tiny sparks popping on his palms.

What he said next was something I have never expected him to say.

" You are My goddamn Business You Little Shit! Hanging around with Deku the whole Night making me worry about your shitty ass! And now you're clinging onto him like a stupid fucking Koala! Can't you see how jealous I am!? Can't you drill it in your pretty little head that you're Fucking Mine! " His voice rang through every corner of the common room.

Everyone was silent for a few seconds. My eyes were wide and full of disbelief.

" Finally, Took Him a long time to actually confess... It was kinda getting painful to watch " Kaminari mumbled but it was loud enough for me to hear.

" Dude, it was so manly confessing to her infront of everyone. Bakugou is a true man " Came another comment from one of my classmates, Kirishima.

Katsuki was glaring at me his Chest rising and falling at a visible way clearly indicating how aggravated he was.

His crimson eyes held a lot of swirling emotions, Jealousy, Anger, Betrayal and Possessiveness.

" ..... Excuse you!? " I managed to voice out and he tried grabbing me but I was quick to evade his hand.

" No! And Just when I finally decided to give up on you. You decide to throw all this bullshit infront of me Bakugou Fucking Katsuki! No you listen here you Egotistical Haughty Son of a Bitch! I suffered through every shitty insult and pain you threw my way because I loved you and when I'm at my limit and ready to go you give me this!? all you gave me was pain and honestly I'm not a masochistic bitch to accept it with open arms how but my middle finger huh?!. Damn you and your very confusing and petty way of claiming me! That is not happening! You hear me!? So suck it up Bakuhoe and Go Fuck yourself " I actually felt proud of myself but that was the first time I actually raised my voice or even cursed infront of everyone in the first place so their dumbfounded expression didn't really surprised me.

" Wow.... Your girl's as good at Cursing as you are Bakugou " Sero was the first to comment and that pissed me off.

" I'm not his 'Girl' " I emphasized the girl part with a hint of mockery.

" Yet " Bakugou added making me glare at him.

" Fuck you " I grumbled turning around to walk away in victory thinking I had won the fight.

But before I could even take one step forward I was slung over Bakugou's Shoulder hanging upside down.

" Put me down you Fucking Asshole! " I yelled as he carried me away from the common room.

" Hey! " I grab hold of his blonde hair which was surprisingly soft and gave it a harsh tug which earned me a groan from him.

" Bitch! " He yelled slapping my butt making me gasp.

" I should get you mad more often, That was hot " He commented as if he hadn't just slapped my butt.

The nerve of this fucker.

" Put me down!" I growled as he proceeded to carry me upstairs.

" Now don't think I'm done with you just yet. I have to get my sweet revenge because you hung out with Fucking Deku and let him touch you! " He barked as I felt him tighten his hold on my fleshy thigh.

I tried everything I could, from squirming to kicking to punching his back but the guy is a Fucking wall and didn't even budge.

" Stop it Bitch! Save your energy for later. You're gonna need it " He muttered making me react violently. Until he had enough of it and slammed my back to the nearest wall with his strong muscular arms trapping me I'm between with his body a bit too close to mine.

His face was inches away and I visibly gulped turning my face to the side as his breathe fanned my cheek.

" Bakugou I'm warning you. I'm gonna do something YOU'RE gonna regret if you don't let me go " I had managed to say without stuttering and I mentally Pat myself on the back for my strong tone.

" Fuck it y/n. You really think I'd let you get away after Saying all that shit and defending Deku!? After you hopped onto his back like you're HIS!? Well you're Fucking Mine! You got that!? " He yelled making me groan. His voice was too loud and I think my ears are gonna bleed.

" You asked for it! " I yelled back as I prepared to kick him where the sun don't shine but I didn't even get to raise my leg halfway when he pulled me down by my leg and pressed his body against mine even more.

Right now I had no way of moving with my leg trapped against his thighs holding me in place.

" Oh? Was that your Great Fucking Move? Well it's pretty pathetic so kick and scream all you want. I'm claiming you right now " Using his hand he raked my locks down and gripped onto my hair roughly forcing me to face him and his lips had already connected with mine.

His kiss was rough, dominating with a tinge of passion and jealousy. Moving his lips at a better angle his other hand trailed down to squeeze my hips.

I ressisted. I really did but after awhile of him kissing me I melted. My hands wrapping themselves around his neck my chest squeezed with his toned chest. Both of his hands resting on my waist as I stood on my tippy toes kissing him back with the same intensity.

Opening my mouth to give him access he didn't waste a second to slip his tongue inside my claiming his new domain. His tongue wrestled with my own and soon gaining dominance as he continued the rough kiss.

It was a very angry kiss with lots of jealousy coming from him.

When we finally pulled away breathless and panting his intense crimson orbs pierced mine a smug smirk slowly rigging on the corners of his mouth.

" Still refusing me after that? After you willingly kissed me back? After clinging onto me for dear life? " He was either mocking me or teasing me but either way it pissed me off.

" Katsuki I'm gonna rip your throat off if you keep that up " I glared at him but I guess actions spoke louder than words because my neck was still wrapped around his neck and my body still pressed against his.

" Yeah right and a moment ago you called me Bakugou now look who's calling me Katsuki again " He sneered and I tried retreating my hand away from his neck to push him away but he beat me to it; grabbing my arms and using it as leverage to pull me closer towards him.

" I know I did some pretty fucked up shit. I'm not the best person at expressing these shitty feelings I have for you but I will make it up to you, I'm s-soow.... S-sooo.... Rrr... Eeyyyy " The way he forced out a ' I'm sorry ' got me laughing so hard .

He didn't appreciate that because his cheeks were tinted red form embarrassment and anger.

" You Fucking bitch! Don't laugh at me! I'm trying! " He yelled as I continued laughing.

Yeah, seeing him like that was new and hilarious.

My laughter was cut off when I felt his warm lips press a kiss on my cheek.

He looked to his side his eyes avoiding mine.

" Don't Fucking laugh cause I mean it though.... I'll make it up to you.... " He muttered the faint red color of his cheeks still present.

A smile formed on my lips as I stared at him fondly. A small pinkish tint coating my own cheeks but me being me I ruined the moment with a bitchy remark.

" Yeah why don't you practice saying Sorry first while not sounding like you were about to take the biggest shit of your life " I retorted and because of that I began laughing once again and he was raging. Screaming at me to stop laughing but I couldn't help it. He did deserve it after all.

I'm pretty sure I'll get more of my little revenge in the future....

________

Bonus :

" Deku.... I know you care about those two and You're a hardcore shipper but... What you did though... Was it on purpose? " Uraraka asked taking another bite of her pancakes as they listened to the two bicker.

" Who knows " Izuku answered with a contented smile on his face.

" Huh... You're a bit suicidal for doing that but I respect you man. Bakugou finally confessed it was getting pretty sad to watch him act all tough and pretending he doesn't like her " Sero chuckled.

" Hopefully those two will stay strong from now on... " Momo took a sip of her tea and everyone silently agreed with her.

" So.... Do you think they're Fucking? " Mineta suddenly brought up the topic which caused Tsu to slap him with her Tongue.

" Mineta-kun you're being a pervert again" Tsu muttered staring at the purple headed boy.

" Hahahahha! " Denki and Mina suddenly came down stairs holding a camera.

" You guys wanna see what they were doing upstairs? " Denki asked while laughing.

" Dude, invading other people's privacy is Not manly " Kirishima stated bit he couldn't help but be curious.

" .... What happened though? " Kirishima asked taking a peek at the camera.

" Oh you know, They kissed and Bakugou tried saying sorry but it was an epic fail! " Mina laughed and on cue Y/n came running down with an in raged Bakugou trailing hot on her tail.

" Come Back here! " Bakugou barked trying to grab hold of the girl.

" I was being honest when I said you need practice in saying sorry! You look like you're about to shit Bricks! " She yelled merely avoiding the hand of Bakugou that was centimeters away from holding her.

" Drama and Breakfast in the morning sure is pretty Good. But Drama, Breakfast and Comedy in the Morning is The best! " Denki chuckled watching the two interact.

" Oh boy... I have a feeling everything is going to be a lot more louder here than usual " Izuku sighed .

[necros-writing-stuff]

Hiya ^__^! I was in the middle of writing a thirst/emo ask when I saw your "medias/entertainment the LIs would be interested in." post, and I have some HCs & thoughts about Robin, Kylar & Eden:

Robin- They like MMO games, but since they financially can't afford subscription games, they stick to free MMOs like Neverwinter, Guild Wars 2, Old School Runescape (even though you have to pay to access the game's best content, lol, but w/e), etc. They enjoy listening to light-hearted podcasts where participants are chatting about the mundane. On youtube, they mostly follow cooking channels to find simple, affordable recipes to try out & share w/ PC. When it comes to social media, they're more of a lucker than an active user. I also kinda see them having a hard time grasping internet culture/memes. Uses let's-play videos as background noise when they're studying.

Kylar- they like movies such as Eyes Without a Face, Don't Look Now, Rosemary's Baby, V/H/S anthology, From Beyond, etc. Watches true-crimes docs & series. When it comes to video games, they're very big on any game that requires a shit-ton of reading, so their fav genres are mostly VNs, dating sims & text-based games. Sometimes they like to mess around w/ dungeon crawlers & FPS games. They listen to popular gothic rock bands like The Cure, Joy Division, Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, etc. Def a veteran mod in some obscure anime forum. Their internet persona is diametrically opposite to their IRL personality. Has a blog where they journal their daily life & dump their writing & drawings. Literally pirates anything they could get their hand on. Occasionally surfs & posts in /lit/, /adv/, /x/, /ic/, and /r9k/.

Eden- If they ever used the internet, it's just to pirate books, read news & op-ed articles; they wouldn't care about anything else. Has a great collection of books that centres around political & economic theories. I don't think they have a specific favourite music artist, but when they were young, they might have listened to Alice in Chains, Rage Against the Machine, The Smashing Pumpkins, System of a Down, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, etc. Because of K*rk*t, now I'm legally obligated to assign any remotely grumpy character as a rom-com enjoyer whether it fits or not :v, so yeah, Eden's guilty pleasure is shitty rom-com movies, w/ The Notebook being one of their favorites. (But they're def not ashamed of reading & enjoying romance novels.)

I agree with a lot of this, anon.

Robin falls for Joe mama-style set ups everytime. Probably has played every Final Fantasy and has a few ideas for a TTRPG character they want to play as but never found a group to play with. Also, when it comes to YouTube Robin strikes me as someone who would have enjoyed Jenna Marbles (I miss her so bad).

Kylar seems like the type of person to have one of those Yandere blogs you see. Updates it with every look you give them, posts pictures of their shrine in their room (with you censored, they don't want anyone getting any ideas) and talks about how they can't wait for your future together. I also think Kylar is emo as hell and may have been a scene kid at one point - yes even listening to absolute trash like Simon Curtis. Which brings up a theory of mine - Kylar dyes their hair black. It's naturally something else. They could also enjoy films like The Boy, and openly roots for Brahms.

Eden strikes me as someone potentially leaning anarchist politically. Probably has Peter Kropotkin and such in their book stack. But also could lean into conspiracy theories a bit too much. It may just be because of the town, but Eden has a line where they say they'll never go to the hospital - if they're that injured then they'll die. And I don't blame them, knowing Harper, but it does make me think Eden could be an illuminati/lizard person believer. If Eden ever had electricity put in at the cabin I would bet they'd like How I Met Your Mother and other rom-com shows. Doesn't even flinch when you watch Bambi together and it reaches that scene, which is a little concerning.