#also damn I've missed just... sitting down with a mug of tea and going down a research rabbit hole or three

[odekiisu]

Basic Guide to Clone Trooper Armour

I don’t know about you guys, but I have a hard time keeping the terms for various parts of clone armour straight in my mind. So, I decided to make this Guide To Armour, to make my life easier for those times I’m drawing or writing stuff and need to reference what this, that or the other piece is called, how it’s put on or taken off. (I’ve also tried to include/come up with some casual or slang terms for some parts because you cannot seriously expect these guys to use the Right Proper Terminology for everything all of the time.)

This is based on the Clone Wars cartoons, because that’s what I know best. Also, this is just the standard armour of regular troopers; if y’all want something about the possible additions/variations that you could have then lmk and I’ll see what I can put together I guess?

Note: a lot of this terminology is taken from medieval knights’ armour. Many terms are originally French; alternative names provided where possible. I did do a bit of research on medieval plate armour, which is the closest thing I can think of to clone armour, but I am by no means an expert so if you have any input or corrections feel free to @ me. Likewise, if you’ve cosplayed as a clone trooper or stormtrooper, I’d very much like to hear about your experience wearing this stuff, how it moves and how it might be similar or different to the “real thing” so to speak.

Figure 1: Clone trooper armour, front view. Kix got chosen for this because he’s a vain little bastard and loves to be painted. (ETA: this diagram now comes with a second, funnier version.)

(long post under cut)

Figure 2: Back view of armour.

According to Wookieepedia: The armour is produced on Kamino and has UV spectrum markings visible to Kaminoans. It is made of plastoid-alloy composite, and the plates are attached to the bodysuit via magnatomic gription panels. In general, Phase II armour is lighter, stronger and more ergonomic than Phase I, which has been described as heavy and uncomfortable (Wookieepedia also says that it weighs ‘just under forty kilograms’ which sounds like way too much but eh, I’ll roll with it.)

Body glove/bodysuit – the stuff worn under the armour. Provides thermoregulation, some level of protection from things like blasterfire, vacuum, etc. AKA: blacks.

Helmet – The Bucket. Stuffed full of various tech: tracking device, display screen, comlink… Phase I helmets also have life support capabilities, while Phase II helmets do not, requiring an external oxygen supply*. Helmet crest contains comlink antenna. AKA: bucket, I think Rex once called them sun-bonnets, etc… this is the piece likely to have the most slang terms associated with it. Go wild.

* this is according to Wookieepedia; I’m a bit sceptical but I haven’t yet seen the episode it refers to. I headcanon that Phase II is capable of limited life support for emergency situations, but extended missions require external respirators.

Cuirass – there is some conflicting information on whether this refers to just the front chest armour or both front and back. If both, it consists of breastplate and backplate, joined at the sides and shoulders. Shoulder connections appear to be different for Phase I and Phase II: Phase I has a separate piece covering the shoulder seam, implying that it can be opened, whereas Phase II looks like it has an integrated flexible band; it may or may not be possible to disconnect. Either way, the front and back pieces must be able to separate in order to get the whole thing on.

Plackart – belly piece, wraps around the back to protect kidneys as well. Probably flexible to some extent, has been seen to slide down under belt, as demonstrated by Jesse in Figure 3. Might also have to have at least one open-able seam in it in order for troopers to get into it efficiently.

Figure 3: I have no idea how the lower edge of this isn’t stabbing him in the crotch, but *shrug*.

Spaulder/shoulder bell – also known as pauldrons irl, but that term refers to a different item this context (the pauldrons that commanders, captains and ARC troopers wear), so I feel like it might be better to differentiate between them with different terms to avoid confusion. That’s just my opinion though, you feel free to do as you wish.

Rerebrace – bicep plate. Phase I has cutouts in the back to fit pointy elbows (see below); Phase II does not.

Couter – elbow plate. Pointy elbows in Phase I, unpointy elbows in Phase II, as shown on Figure 4. In Phase I appear to be attached to vambraces in the animated version, Phase II is more mobile. I admit, I’m not a huge fan of this word, I kinda prefer elbow plates.

Figure 4: Phase I and II elbows. Am I getting way too into this that it’s gotten to the point of studying clone elbows? *shrug* who knows.

Vambrace – forearm armour. Has wrist-mounted comlink (see below).

Gauntlet plate – covers back of hand. The 212th absolutely calls these “droid-punchers”, no you cannot convince me otherwise. I think I’ve seen fanon that some troopers sharpen the front edge of this plate to do more damage when punching. Decide for yourself if plastoid alloy would do more damage to the metal of a droid’s chassis if sharpened or unsharpened (and therefore sturdier).

Codpiece/crotch plate – covers the front hip and crotch area. Possible slang term, courtesy of @mockingjay34​: cockblock

Skidplate – covers butt and back hip. A lot of troopers probably just call this piece their shebs, and once again you cannot convince me otherwise. Note that in the clone wars cartoon, Phase I armour is triangular in the back and has a sort of erm… diaper shape, in that the codpiece and skidplate are connected in the crotch (I cannot imagine that being comfortable in any situation, but then again, I have Thicc™ Thighs. Do clones have thigh gaps? Also, I would not want to get pinched by the armour joint between crotch and thigh plates).

Figure 5: Sniper Butts! (Featuring Echo and Fives in quite possibly the only comfortable position in this armour.)

In Phase II the crotch and butt pieces are separated, which sounds a lot more sensible, as well as having better butt coverage – think cheeky panties vs full briefs.

Figure 6: Hardcase kindly demonstrating the new crotch plate alongside some significant gaps in his armour… please get yourself some bigger shoulder bells my dude!

I’d imagine that, given the amount of time these guys spend fully armoured, there should be some way of conveniently opening some of this up or removing individual plates for practical reasons (and if any particular trooper wanted to use this feature for… other things, well, that’s their own business).

Cuisse/Thigh plate – covers thighs. Phase I and II have different shapes in the back to account for skidplate shape, with Phase II having significantly less coverage in the upper thigh/butt area, but I guess better range of motion.

Figure 7: Troopers Hardcase and Dogma demonstrating the Butt Cutouts, or Buttouts.

Poleyn/knee plate/knee pad – important for maintaining kneecap integrity. Like elbow plates, appears to be integrated into greaves in Phase I, but moving freely in Phase II.

Greaves – cover shins, nothing fancy.

Boots – boots. Do not appear to be armoured, are soft enough to bend your toes for walking/kneeling/whatever you need bendy toes for.

Belt pouches/boxes/compartments – A place to keep your stuff when out & about. I’m assuming this is a Pocket Substitute. Clones deserve pockets too!

Comlink – Generally four large square buttons and one smaller one (live action has more buttons). They also have comlinks in their helmets. Wookieepedia mentioned that they used wrist comms in the show so that the audience could clearly see when characters were talking to each other. Possibly used for long-range communication, whereas the ones in the buckets could be for shorter range?

Life support/those box things on their back – I have no idea what they’re actually called but these also have different designs for Phase I and II. On stormtroopers they contain a power pack and a small oxygen supply, and I guess it’s reasonable to assume that they have the same life support function for clone troopers. Also read somewhere that they have comlink scanner for long-range communication?

Thermal detonator – why would they all have bombs on their back? Seems unsafe. Also I don’t think I’ve ever seen one used? Idk. These things confuse me.

#star wars #the clone wars #swtcw #clone troopers #clone armor #clone wars meta #wow this got long #also damn I've missed just... sitting down with a mug of tea and going down a research rabbit hole or three #star wars meta

[adam-dumortains]

longing - adam du mortain x detective

An unexpected visit from Adam to the Detective’s apartment brings both of their feelings to the surface.

“And all I've seen since 18 hours ago is green eyes, and freckles and your smile.”

words: 1620 | warning: swearing

Requested by @goldenforever17

The detective sat on her couch, a patterned blanket draped around her whilst a pile of papers and case files were strewn across her coffee table. It was supposed to be her day off, but the detective couldn’t relax knowing that somewhere, there was a young girl terrified, wanting to be back in her parent's arms. The mug of tea on the table had been left untouched due to the Detective's attention being fixed wholly on the case. Not only was a young girl missing, heartbroken parents and a supernatural culprit, but the case also had little evidence to go on and Bobby had been incessantly harassing her for details. A faint ache had plagued her head for days accompanied by heavy eyes. Her eyes fell onto the mug on her table, which she quickly took a swig off before grimacing at the cold liquid hitting her throat. She groaned as she slammed the mug back onto the table, her body sinking back into the couch. Why couldn’t anything go right recently? She cursed herself as she could feel the emotion bubbling inside her and the lump that was slowly forming in her throat. She rubbed her head as a single tear of frustration fell from her cheek before she snatched the case file from the table, opening it up to see a picture of Addie smiling up at her. She just wanted to find the young girl and bring her back home.

There was a knock at the door. The detective lifted her head up and peered over to the door with a confused frown. She wasn’t expecting anybody today and Rebecca would have called if she was going to visit. The only person she could think of that would be bothering her on her “day off” would be Bobby. The detective groaned as she moved the case file off her lap, forcing herself to walk to the door.

“Bobby, if that’s you, I’m gonna lose my shi-” Her words fell short as her gaze travelled up to meet the icy green eyes she had not stopped thinking about since she last saw them. “Adam?”

“Detective.”

“O-Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you were Bobby.”

Adam’s lips slowly turned into a disgusted grimace. He wasn’t sure whether it was because she mistook him for someone as incompetent as Bobby Marks or whether it was the reminder that Bobby was her ex. “It’s just me. I came to see if you were... alright.”

The detective rolled her eyes. “Did Rebecca send you? She knew I wanted a few days to look at this case. I love her and all but she doesn’t need to check up on me, or send anyone else to for that matter.”

“Rebecca didn’t send me... I came on my own accord.” His voice was soft. The admission shocked the detective for a split second before the shock turned into a small smile on her lips. He had come all the way to her apartment just to check on her. She quickly moved out of the doorway, gesturing Adam to come inside. Adam stepped in, yet again, inspecting her apartment.

“How is the case going, Detective?”

“How many times have I told you to call me by my name? It’s Adaline, in case you forgot.”

Adam’s jaw clenched slightly at the sarcastic tone in Adaline’s voice, but it wasn’t enough to hide the amused smile appearing on his lips. “How’s the case going, Adaline?”

Adaline laughed out loud at Adam’s attempt to be funny as he purposely said her name with a hint of sarcasm. She liked when he loosened up from his usual stoic expression.

“It’s... not,” she sighed. “There’s barely any evidence to go off. I just want to save this poor girl and bring her back to her parents.” She slumped back onto the couch, throwing her head into her hands in frustration. Adam’s gaze followed her to the couch. He moved over to sit beside her before he even realised what he was doing. He looked at his hand, a silent battle in his mind on whether to put his hand on her back to comfort her. The urge to do it won as he gently placed his hand on her back.

The sudden touch of Adam’s hand on Adaline’s back sent her heart into overdrive as her breath hitched. Just his touch alone was enough to make her feel alive. Her head slowly rose from her hands, before lifting up to meet Adam’s green eyes. The space between them was barely there, and Adam’s emerald eyes felt as though they were looking into her very soul. All she wanted to do was kiss him. Her hand moved to his arm, her voice a breathless whisper in her now silent apartment. “Adam..”

The gaze was interrupted by an awkward cough from Adam who quickly jumped up from the couch, almost knocking Adaline over in the process. Adaline frowned as she felt pricks of pain in her chest. Every time Adam moved from her touch, she could have sworn her heart broke a little each time. It was draining. She yearned for his touch. She looked back up at him before snapping her gaze away, shaking away the need to let tears spill.

“I’m getting really tired of this, Adam.”

“Of what?”

“Of you, I’m tired of-”

“You’re tired of me? Then I will leave.” He hissed through gritted teeth as he turned around and walked towards the door.

“You didn’t let me finish! I’m tired of you denying what we feel for each other.”

He shook his head, refusing to turn around. “I don’t.. I don’t feel anything.” As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted them.

The detective laughed to herself, shaking her head. “You can keep lying to yourself, Adam. But that won’t change how you feel. What we both feel.”

Adam finally turned around to meet her gaze. The words of Sanja still playing in his head after all this time. That fall will crush you both. He stayed silent. He turned again towards the door, putting his hand onto the handle before feeling a harsh hold on his arm.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Adaline yelled, the anger from his silence and ignoring what she had said bubbling over the edge. Adam’s eyebrows shot up as he turned around, before frowning angrily at the Detective.

“I told you. I feel nothing.” He barked.

“Fuck you, Adam. If you’re not going to be honest, then I will. Cause I’m tired of acting like your touch doesn’t send shockwaves through my skin. I’m tired of acting like your eyes aren’t all I dream about and I’m so damn tired of wanting you!”

The words left Adam speechless. His eyes searched her face as his mouth fell open.

“Tell me you feel the same, please,” Adaline pleaded. “Or just leave.” There was another moment of silence. Adaline looked at him one final time, before shaking her head.

She should have known better than to think Adam would actually care for her in the same way she did for him. She wiped a quick tear away from her cheek as she turned around from him, unable to look at him in case she broke. She waited for the sound of the door opening and shutting behind her, knowing that once she heard that, she could finally break down. But she didn’t hear it. Instead, she felt Adam’s fingers delicately on her arm and his presence behind her. She turned her neck slightly to see him stood behind her, the space between them only a few inches.

She could hear Adam’s nervous breathing against her neck, the shaky breaths warm against her skin. Adaline slowly turned around to face him again, their faces the closest they’d ever been. She looked into his green eyes and could see the fear in them. Not fear of her, but fear of what was about to happen next and what it could mean for them both.

His hand slowly traced up her arm to rest on her cheek, the touch causing Adaline to close her eyes. Adam’s thumb grazed against the skin of her cheek ever so gently, and to Adaline’s surprised, she felt his lips close to hers. Their lips hesitated against each other for a brief moment, unsure of whether they should go any further until a sigh of relief escaped Adaline as their lips melted into one another. The kiss was gentle, as though both were trying to savour every second of each other. It felt like time had stopped as their tongues slid against each other before the months and months of yearning came to a grinding halt as their kiss became more fervent as though they had both wanted this moment their entire lives. Adam’s other hand draped around the detective’s back, pulling her closer as his hungry kisses trailed down to her neck, before moving back up to her lips, missing the feel of them against his already. Adam moaned into the kiss, breaking the space between them as Adaline’s arms moved over his shoulders and wrap around his neck as her heart pounded against her chest.

Suddenly, Adam pulled his lips away from Adaline with a small frown on his face. Adaline moved closer to him as though it was instinct before realising he had pulled away, a small disappointed look washing over her face. The only sounds in the room were the unsteady breaths of them both as they tried to catch their breath. Adaline could feel the tingle on her lips left by Adam, bringing her fingers up to her lips to feel them as though she wanted to savour the feeling just a little longer. Adam’s eyes followed her fingers to her lips before meeting her eyes again. Their gazes never wavered for each other as they both realised that they crossed the line they never thought they would.

#the wayhaven chronicles #adam du mortain #agent du mortain #agent a #mc x adam du mortain fanfic #adam x detective #Adam x detective fanfic #Adam x detective fanfiction #Adam x mc #mc x Adam #detective x Adam #twc #twc fanfic #twc fanfiction #the wayhaven chronicles fanfiction

[cherrystreet]

hey! i was just thinking, that i've been listening to the songs harry requested on radio 1 and they've been stuck in my head for so long omg. and like, i'm not connecting the songs he requested to larry, but with each song a little scenario ab them plays in my head! was wondering if you could write little snippets based on a couple of the songs? sweetest devotion by adele and issues by julia michaels!

I got really carried away with this; I combined both of these songs and very subtly put a few of the lyrics into a mess of 3k. I hope this works for you xx

Louis watches the build up and break over a period of months. Years, even. Harry’s tired. They both are, but Harry’s exceptionally so. He’s been working nonstop on his album, his photography, himself, and now that he’s back in the limelight all day, everyday, it’s taking a serious toll. Louis doesn’t say anything or imply that Harry needs to slow down, but he wants to, just isn’t quite sure how. Harry’s been a little moodier, a little more on edge, and the whole time Louis is trying to figure out a way to approach the subject lightly, it seems that Harry has already given it just as much thought as Louis has, if not more.

“I think I wanna take some time off,” he says one night just before bed. He’s in the middle of changing his pants, tripping into them like he always does. “Like, hide, maybe?” The way he says it makes it sound like he’s asking for permission from Louis, just to make sure they’re currently at the same level.

Louis raises a brow from his position in bed and looks up, relieved, worried. “Yeah? Like go on an extended holiday?”

“Mmm, something like that.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Harry crawls into bed beside him, shirtless and shoulders pink from his sunburn. The weather was mild and about 10 degrees today - typical for January - but they spent the majority of the day outside, anyway, Harry lounging in the backyard, ignoring Louis’ request to venture out. Paps, he said simply, going back to shielding his eyes from the LA sun.

“I rented out a place in Maine,” he says, reaching for his reading glasses on the bedside table. He doesn’t really need them, but no matter how much Louis teases him about it, he continues to wear them, squinting without them. Dramatic. “I’m not even really sure where it is, but I know it’s right on a lake, it’s in the woods, it’s secluded, it’s…” He sighs. “Not here.”

Louis’ stomach tightens. “You trying to get away from me, Styles?”

“No, God no.” Harry shakes his head, curls finally grown back in and bouncing. “I’m trying to take a break from everything, but that doesn’t include you. You can come with me, if you want. But don’t feel obligated to. I know how much you love it here. And that you like writing here best.”

I love it here because you’re here. “I’m comin’ with,” he replies eventually.

“You want to?”

“Yes. You’re a bit strange for wanting to fuck off to the middle of nowhere but. I’m used to your weirdness by this point. No judgement here. I’ll come with.”

Harry smirks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose like Louis always does. Copy cat. “Good.”

“So, when’re we leaving?”

“Thursday morning.”

“Christ, you’re an impulsive lad, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Makes life interesting.”

Harry nods, reaching for the remote for the telly, then setting it back down. “I’m very happy. I really am. I just need a change, yeah?”

“It’s okay to, like, want to step back,” Louis says softly. “You don’t have to be grateful and positive every second of the day. Wanting to escape is probably the most normal thing I can think of.”

He’s quiet for a moment, probably thinking. He purses his lips when he looks at Louis. “Thank you.”

“Absolutely.”

“And you’re gonna escape with me? Until you’re tired of me?”

Louis smiles, turning off his bedside light. “Absolutely.”

Maine is fucking cold. Painfully cold. Being on the water does nothing to help that, and Louis spends the first week inside, wrapped in blankets and jumpers, the tip of his nose now permanently red. Harry makes him tea, all the while repeatedly saying, “It’s so gorgeous out here. The water seems so still under the ice. Look at all the snow. The trees. There are so many.”

Louis just rolls his eyes, jamming his toes under Harry’s thighs. “Yes, yes, nature is amazing. Would be more appreciative if it wasn’t so bloody freezing.”

The cabin is nothing to brag about. The kitchen is far from gourmet, the appliances old and creaky, and though there are three bedrooms, they’re all small, cramped. The living space offers next to nothing other than an old wood stove (which quickly becomes Louis’ best friend), and the entire space is outdated, in desperate need of some serious love. Louis keeps his mouth shut, though, because Harry is the happiest Louis has seen him since he got back from touring. He’s lounging, he’s playing his guitar, he’s fucking smiling, and Louis can’t stop staring at him, not worried for the first time in ages.

January ticks by quickly, the silence around them both calming and unnerving. It takes a while to get used to not having an agenda, not mapping out their day according to where paparazzi and nosy fans are, but once they figure out how to appreciate the new environment, Louis feels light. He turns off his phone for the majority of the day, the owls hooting and coyotes howling the soundtrack to their nights instead of constant beeping and ringing, and even though he gives Harry shit for essentially writing love songs about all that Maine has to offer, he’s finding himself embracing the change, too. He sleeps better than he has in months, the cold air numbing his lungs, his mind, dead tired by the time he slides under the duvet cover beside Harry each night. And though Louis knew Harry had been tense in months prior, he hadn’t realized how stressed he’d actually been. He has a comparison now, though, can see the way the bags under Harry’s eyes are clearing up, can see the brightness back in his grin, isn’t blind to the way he seems to be a little touchier than usual, fumbling into bed with Louis before it’s dark out, his hands restless and his mouth hot. On Harry’s birthday, they get stuck at the cabin, snowed in, but it doesn’t matter. Louis wakes him up slowly, Harry whining low in his throat the whole time, and when Louis does his best to make breakfast in bed with the limited ingredients they have in the kitchen, Harry acts like it’s the best gift he’s ever received. Louis almost believes him.

The shadows outside from the trees are long, ominous, and beg to be touched. Pine trees, oak trees; they’re all strong and sturdy and bare, the tops of them disappearing against the inky black sky, stars bright and unclouded by smog like in the city. The firewood snaps, the steam from mugs swirl up, their breath comes out like smoke in wisps. Heavy blankets feel like weights, heavy and safe. The yard is white. The lake is frozen. Sometimes, when Harry is finally fast asleep, his breathing even and his mind finally shut off, Louis will sneak out and stand out on the back deck, shaking in the cold, numb, could scream if his lungs would work, but it wouldn’t matter because no one is around to hear him.

It’s rejuvenating, it’s the best therapy he’s ever had, and damn Harry for knowing exactly what they both needed, somehow. Louis hadn’t realized how stuffed up he was, too, was so focused on Harry’s well being that he hadn’t realized he was also under the pressure of it all.

They’re incognito. Anonymous. Louis has never felt so exposed, so secluded. He never wants to go back.

Spring rolls in from out of nowhere; Louis has flown back to LA four times, home to his family twice, and to Miami once for a promise to record with a new group of people. When he’s gone, he misses the cabin, misses Harry, but finds himself feeling refreshed when he’s back to work, back with his people. It’s a nice balance for once.

Harry only leaves Maine twice, though, seemingly happy to stay locked away, exploring the woods, hiking and creating his own paths up and down muddy walkways. Louis invites him to come away with him but Harry just shrugs and says, “I’m good, baby, thank you.”

The ice melts away, the flowers emerge. It’s cooler in the mornings and evenings, afternoon temperatures comfortable with a light jacket on. They make dinner together and eat out on the back deck, watching the waves lap up against the dock, and they talk about their writing, what’s going on in their heads. Harry doesn’t tense up like he has over the course of the past year when Louis asks what he’s worked on today, and instead, lights up when he passes Louis his leather bound notebook across the table. His handwriting is messy but precise as always, and Louis nods along as he reads through the second verse.

“This,” he says. “This part is great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis confirms. “Phenomenal, really. Jealous I didn’t think of it first.”

Harry smirks, dimple poking out, and Louis wants to stick his finger in it. “Could’ve, if you spent more than ten minutes sitting still.”

“Hey, I do.”

“Sleeping doesn’t count.”

Louis shrugs. “Whatever. As long as you’re feeling good about where you are right now.”

“I am.”

“I’m glad.”

Spring in Maine is different than spring anywhere else Louis has lived. The leaves seem to bloom all at once, the branches grey and bare on Wednesday, green and thick by Thursday. The ground smells like dirt and wildflowers and new. The rain sweeps in every other day out of nowhere. It coats the pavement and grass, beading against the blades, sounds like pop rocks across the lake. It lulls Louis to sleep almost every time.

At the end of May, Harry has 18 songs complete, sings them so often that Louis has them memorized. Louis asks Harry if he’s ready to get back to LA and record, or maybe find some remote location somewhere to set up, like Juneau or the Keys or a tiny island off the coast of Ireland. Harry shakes his head.

“Nope. I’m good. Still want to be here.”

Louis just nods antsy.

June, July, and August are bloody hot, the humidity stifling. Louis wakes up with Harry plastered to his back every morning, stuck together from sweat, and he feels like he can’t breathe, suffocating in more ways than one. There’s no air conditioning, so Louis spends the majority of his time in the water, hissing from the shock of it when he dives into the wake. Harry typically joins him, ducking down to lick the water droplets off his collarbone, his neck. It feels good, being in their bubble, Harry’s hands wandering without consequences.

The lightning bugs come out half nine every night, mirroring the lightning streaking across the sky, and Harry says it’s for them, their own private show. Louis murmurs under his breath, “Well, no one’s here, Harry, who else would it be for?” Harry doesn’t answer that, just pulls Louis in closer, eyelashes sweeping across his cheekbones.

“You don’t have to stay,” he whispers.

“You don’t, either,” Louis counters.

“I’m just not ready to jump back into the speed of what used to be. I feel like I’m being more productive now than I’ve ever been, while I’m unwinding. Simultaneously.”

He gets that, understands completely. But. “It’s been awhile, love.”

“Okay, yeah, I know.”

Louis waits for Harry to say something else, but he doesn’t, just clinks his ice around in his glass, water sloshing over the side. The frogs are croaking, the crickets are chirping, and it’s the first time that Louis wants to shut it all off.

He heads back to LA for good just before the leaves start to transform into golds, reds, oranges, yellows, browns. Harry sends him pictures every morning, telling Louis he’s missing the views, followed by, I’m missing the views, too, if you know what I mean. Louis rolls his eyes at that and replies with, Come to LA and you can get a full show. Harry doesn’t come back, though, and Louis doesn’t expect him to.

It’s hard, missing Harry this much for the first time in ages, especially when he knows Harry still isn’t quite right. He can’t halt his life, though, can’t hole up in the woods forever, touching and kissing and listening to Harry’s pen scrawl across paper at three in the morning. It’s not realistic to continue to hide away, not when they both have so much waiting for them.

“We both clearly have some issues,” Louis says through the phone late one night in October. LA was hot today, but Harry told him he’s comfortable in a jumper and trackies, a little chilly, even. It feels like they’re worlds away, and not just on opposite ends of the country. “But you can’t keep yourself off the grid. Not forever.”

“I didn’t say it was forever,” Harry argues. “It’s not like I’ve been glued to this house. I’ve been home to see my mum and Gemma. I went to Sydney last month. I’ve been back to LA with you.”

“Yeah, once.”

“Lou, I need to do this for me. I did it for us, really, but now you’re gone and you’ve figured out how to settle but I haven’t. Not quite yet. You’re always one step ahead and I’m just trying to catch up.”

Louis swallows, picking at a scab on his knee. He has no idea where it came from. “See, that’s funny, because I always feel like we’re on exactly the same page.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do.” He pauses to clench and unclench his jaw. “I love you. And I hope you’re feeling the way you want to feel. I’m trying to be supportive but I also want to slap you and, like, I haven’t seen you in six weeks and it’s just. Come home.”

“Baby, when I come home, I’m heading straight for you. First thing.” Harry breathes through the phone for a beat. “I miss you. So much. Stepping away from the public was exactly what I needed. I know you can tell how much better I sound. How much healthier.”

Louis nods, because it’s true. “Yeah.”

“The next step would have been stepping away from. Everything.” He doesn’t have to explain further for Louis to know he’s implying breakup. “I had to. And guess what.”

He pauses to exhale. “What.”

“I’ve written another album. Like, 53 songs that I’m trying to sort though. I’ve never felt more at peace with myself. With you. I haven’t missed you like this in ages. I forgot what it felt like to love this hard. And, like, I don’t want us to be tired of one another. Tell me if you are.” His voice wavers, just slightly. “Because I feel like now I’m on my way to being fixed, and in turn, that fixed everything else. Even things that didn’t need major repairs. Like us.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut. “Never gonna be tired of you.”

“Thank God,” Harry whispers. “Hey, Lou.”

“Harry.”

“I had to use the heated blanket last night.”

“Was it really that cold?”

“No, but usually I have someone in bed with me and he’s pretty warm. Felt lonely.”

Louis smiles, shaking his head. “Put on wool socks next time.”

“Good advice.”

Over the course of the next month, Louis isn’t sure where they stand. They’re together, but Harry isn’t as communicative, and nothing feels reassuring anymore. Louis has to resist the urge to call and fight with him, just to put his negative energy somewhere, unsure of where else to put it, and he can’t believe he’s jealous of a Goddamn cabin. Louis has never been as devoted to anything in his entire life, nothing more than Harry, but he doesn’t know how to figure it all out on his own.

Turns out, he doesn’t have to.

He comes home to his boy lounging on their couch on a Tuesday night in November. He looks like he never left, bag of crisps on his lap, fucking wool socks covering his feet. He tips his head back and looks over the back of the couch when he hears Louis walk in.

“Hi, baby,” he says, the look on his face evident that he’s pleased with himself, sneaking through LAX without being seen, without Louis knowing. “‘m back.”

“I can see that.” Louis saunters over, not thinking about it as he carefully climbs astride Harry’s hips. He looks so good, smiling in that Harry way of his. “Decided to show up with no warning?”

Harry drops the bag onto the coffee table in favor of sliding his hands up and down Louis’ back. “Wanted to be a surprise.”

“I’ll say.”

“A good one, I hope.”

“Still thinking about it.”

He smirks, hands still moving. “You look gorgeous.”

“Obviously.”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes. “Wish you’d seen some of autumn. Best season, by far. I swear, the lake looks orange from the reflection of the leaves. You’d love it. Gonna have to go back with you there someday.” He backtracks when he sees the look on Louis’ face. “For, like, a long weekend.”

He laughs, pressing his forehead to Harry’s. “Don’t think I’d love it as much as I love having you back here.”

“You and my manager.”

Louis needs to make sure: “You didn’t come back here for him, though, right.”

“No. I didn’t. Being away… It didn’t feel like home anymore. I needed time to refocus and recenter. I missed.” Harry looks up. He looks young, like the Harry Louis fell in love with so many moons ago. “A lot of things. But mostly you. Can’t wait to get you in the studio with me and show you what I have so far. And just can’t wait to start living again, yeah? You know what I mean? I’m ready to do this.”

Louis doesn’t have to ask what ‘this’ is. He knows. He feels it.

And maybe they are on the same page.

#my drabble #drabble #answered #anon