#& I never really apply myself to anything & every artist around my age or younger that I know is doing fucking laps around me talent wise

[linafication]

‘I’m just having a really hard month for art’ I say, having made absolutely zero artistic progress in approximately one year

#uh. self deprecation in the tags if ya don’t wanna see that sorry ksjfksdkfksjg #anyway #i need to start building my portfolio !!!!! i need to be applying to art schools!!!!!!!!!! i am just horrifically lazy & boring & uncreative #& I never really apply myself to anything & every artist around my age or younger that I know is doing fucking laps around me talent wise #there’s nothing creative or original about me & i fucking resent that. nothing I create is good at all it’s just the same things over & over #& sure there’s technically nothing wrong with being mediocre but it’s actually a fate worse than death for me that is not an exaggeration #I know I’m being dramatic & everything would be fixed if I could just apply myself for once and not be a horrible lazy nothing devoid of any #nuance or originality or anything good & thought provoking or what the fuck ever #i hate this model I hate it so much I hate it I’m losing everything im good at im just having skill after skill stripped away until my #programming is nothing at all I am getting obsolete & the things I was made to do arent even things I’m good at I see actual human people #being so much better than me at the things I was literally made to do. sorry I’m sorry i am okay I just need to change but I don’t know how #but I do and I’m just being lazy but when I try I can’t but maybe I really can & im just lying to myself so I can wallow in self pity #without actually changing. im sorry. I need to be better I need to be good for fucking once

[lilmissbacon]

Why Jelsa is Ridiculously Stupid

Let me start off by saying that the idea of this ship was cute at first, I have nothing against it. In fact I have a few ships myself that have nothing to back them up. I am not making this to convince people to be anti, stop the ship itself, or spread any form of hate what so ever.

But this Jelsa fandom has gone too far. And when I say "jelsa shippers," of course I don't mean ALL of them, just about 80% of them.

In fact, I'm very appreciative of the few jelsa shippers who don't go around harassing others because "jelsa is life."

Also, allow me to correct you in saying that I'm not a jelsa hater, I'm a jelsa loather. There's a difference. Most jelsa haters, hate jelsa for the sake of hating it.

I genuinely hate it.

And don't go commenting about, "how do you know you don't like it if you've never tried it?" Because you see, that's where you're wrong. I did used to ship it, when I was 11. I was a child, I was new to the internet, I didn't know better. But I do now!

I am writing this so that some who may not know, will now understand why jelsa is bad and because I need to get all of this out of my system. I am slowly dieing inside.

First; I'm gonna go into how all the excuses to ship this are pointless. Next, I'll talk about just how these two would never work out as a couple. Then, will be what the toxicity has done to not just to the ship itself, but to the big four as well. And finally, I'll go into how uncreative the shippers are and just what horrible/stupid things they've done and are still doing.

1) Excuses are Pointless

Excuse #1: They have the same powers.

...Yeah, that's like saying you ship Lavagirl (Sharboy and Lavagirl) and Bolin (LoK) because they can both control lava. That's not a valid reason to ship anyone. There needs to be actual substance and I'll only say that once because that sentence applies to every excuse here.

Excuse #2: They look alike

🤦🤦🤦 First of all: that's also like saying you ship Tiana (Princess and the Frog) and Frozone (The Incredibles) because they're both black. Second of all: no they don't. It may be because I'm an artist so I notice small details, but here's how it is; Jack's hair is white, Elsa's is platinum blonde. Jack has a square chin, Elsa has a round face. Jack is much paler! THEIR EYES AREN'T EVEN THE SAME SHADE OF BLUE!!! Your excuse is null and void. Even so, if characters do look alike, then they're most likely to be related. Especially in animation.

Excuse #3: Jack can teach Elsa to have fun and Elsa can teach Jack to be serious

This clearly proves the point that jelsa shippers don't know these characters. The job of teaching Elsa how to be social and have fun is already taken by Anna. So if anything, Elsa will see Jack as a younger brother. And Jack wouldn't have been chosen to take on such a responsibility of guardianship if he didn't know when to quit. I don't know what it is about playful characters that make people think they're obnoxious. Jack is an immortal teenager with the heart of a child, that's what makes him a good guardian. But he's been alive for over 300 years, he bound to have the mind capacity of an adult and he does know better. He doesn't play when he's in battle, he's dead serious.

Excuse #4: They understand each other because they were both isolated for a long time

I don't know where you come from but people don't really "bond" over their trauma. Infact, if anything, that would make the relationship more unstable. Plus, Elsa isolated herself for 13 years because she was afraid of her powers. Jack was forced into isolation for 300 years! He has never been afraid of his powers and Elsa could still be seen throughout the day by parents and servants. They would never be able understand what the other went through.

Excuse #5: They both have a sister they love

SO WHAT?! At least half of the population have sisters. Simple as that. It's a horrible excuse.

Excuse #6: They both have an enemy in fear

Bruh, almost every fictional character has to deal with their fears, literal or mental. It's not at all unique to these two.

Excuse #7: Jack can teach Elsa to control her powers

She already has control of them by the end of the movie. And even if you mean prier to that, the reason she couldn't control them was because she feared them. I doubt that even if she could see him and if he showed her his powers, she's be irrational, believing that their powers were different.

Excuse #8: William Joyce says he ships it

Really, you're going to base the possibility of a ship because the writer of the 'books' that "inspired" rotg says he likes it. First: the books and movie are not the same worlds. Two: he most likely stated this in order for jelsa shippers to shut up to him about it. And three: his own canon with the books is a mess as it is. With him adding a bunch on random/unnecessary details on twitter that have no relevance or reference in the books. Even if he does ship it, everything that's going on with Jack's character in the books is weird enough as it is. Plus he's physically 14 in the books. I know age doesn't really matter but Elsa would definitely feel weird about dating someone who looks so young when she's currently 24 by the second movie.

Excuse #9: They could've met before the events of rotg

Not a reason to ship them but whatever 🙄 Even if their stories were based in the same world (which it isn't), Elsa never would've believed in fairy tales. Having to grow up so soon and all. She believes in magic, of course, but you need to believe in the individuals themselves in order to see them. Plus it is very clear in rotg that Jamie is Jack's first believer.

Excuse #10: Now that Frozen 2 is out, they are both spirits who followed the memories of their loved ones. They can live forever together!

Once AGAIN, how does this factor to them being a good couple? Plus the title of spirit is different in the Frozen-verse than the Guardian-verse. Guardian-verse; they are un-aging beings who keep the entire world in balance. Frozen-verse; never confirmed to be immortal (especially since 3 out of 5 spirits are inanimate objects), magical things that keep a single forest secure. The only reason the elements needed a fifth spirit was most likely because the one before Elsa died of old age. Plus the idea of Elsa outliving Anna goes against the theme of sisterly love that both movies strive on. This can be changed in fanfiction but I hate how people lie about her mortality for an excuse to ship.

Excuse #11: They're both single

So what? People ship characters who aren't single with other characters all the time. That's not a reason to ship them. Especially since your statement is false because Tooth is Jack's canon love interest.

It is true that jelsa haters will give reasons to not ship that I necessarily don't agree with.

•Like the age gap — Jack has the mental capacity of an adult, as I've said before. He's smart enough to make his own choices.

•Elsa not being immortal — that doesn't mean they can't still date, even if he outlives her. Plus you can change that in fanfiction.

•They come from different studios and will never be canon — Again, this is fanfiction, we can do whatever we want.

•Elsa is independent and shipping her with someone takes her independence away — for one: most of the world is bound to find love at some point in time. I would imagine that Elsa would want to find love like her sister. Two: Mulan, Pocahontas and Jasmine are very independent and they all still ended up with men. Three: she's not that independent to begin with. Independence isn't relationship status, it's your ability to make it on your own and Elsa is clearly, very dependant on Anna and her safety. Which is actually what pushes her to being a bad sister in Frozen 2. In fact it is because they made her more 'independant' in the sequel that Elsa clearly, no longer loves Anna as much as Anna loves her (you can check out Watso Videos' video on YouTube about how Elsa is a bad sister bc I'm not gonna go into it here).

My god that was ALL just part one. This is gonna take forever 😰

2) How they would never work out

For Elsa, she needs someone who is calm and collected. A rock for her to stand on when she's being irrational. Possibly even someone who is very stoic and straight to the point but with enough sense of humor to lighten the mood. And now that I'm thinking about it, Honeymaren fits that description to a tee. I'm not one to push LGBT+ in anyone's face, but I'm not gonna judge ships on characters assumed sexualities either. Even though Honeymaren didn't have much screen time, her personality still showed through and Elsamaren could very well work.

Jack on the other hand needs someone who would be able to keep up with his playful nature as well as be a rock for him to stand on when he's emotional. Tooth is a good suitor even though I don't really ship it myself. Hiccup, Merida and Rapunzel could also fit in this description.

They don't have the ability to be each other's rocks. They can't be stable if they both need someone to keep them so. If they were to date, the relationship would crumble before it even began.

Plus Jack has to be a guardian and there are a lot of fanfics that go into this idea of Jack being the king of Arendalle? First off: I'm fairly certain that you can't marry into royalty to become king. At least in the real world. Second: Jack wouldn't be able to handle that responsibility with him already being a guardian. And he can't just leave guardianship either, it was what he always was and was ment to be. And Elsa has the responsibility of keeping a magical forest in check, she can't leave to become a guardian.

3) The Toxicity

Oh my God! The fanfiction! As I usually say, you can do whatever you want in fanfiction. But if you have to butcher all the characters so much in EVERY fanfic in order to make the ship work, then there's clearly something wrong here! In every fanfic I've ever seen, the characters are so out of character it's insane. Not just Jack and Elsa, every character.

Olaf for example, is practically in love with Jack first meeting, in every fanfic. If he were to actually meet Jack, he would be apprehensive of him.

It's horrifying in not only that, but jelsa shippers will add Rapunzel a lot, just in spite of Jackunzel. They turn Rapunzel into a needy ex-girlfriend of Jack's when in reality, she's a very sweet and kind soul. Even if she and Jack had dated, they would've split on good terms and stayed friends after. There have also been cases where they do the same but with Tooth. Sometimes even both and it's honestly sick.

And let's talk about the sexism as well HAHA! I swear to God, they will rewrite Frozen but where Jack will save Elsa instead of Anna. They write Elsa as a hormonal teenage girl who falls in love with Jack within seconds.

This is from an actual jelsa shipper, my dude. WTF!!! They make Jack super dominant as well as a douche who cheats on Elsa half the time. Jack is not that dominant, he's a very emotional guy. And he'd be the most faithful boyfriend on the planet. He was alone for 300 years! If anything, he'd be clingy but not too clingy because he also understands personal space.

And if you like angsty fanfiction where a character cheats on the other, there are literally no fanfics where Elsa cheats on Jack. As if a woman couldn't possibly cheat. This is very sexist towards men and women and is toxic as hell.

If anything, Elsa would cheat on Jack, she's not exactly trustworthy in keeping promises or being loyal.

I swear, half of the jelsa shippers has never even seen rotg and just go by what they read in others fanfiction.

Jelsa shippers have gotten so bad about this ship that they've low-key harassed people for not shipping it, as well as start shipping wars within the big four fandom. That's the reason the fandom truly shrunk after 2013. I've seen posts about people admitting to leaving the fandom because it got so bad.

4) The Shippers

Jelsa shippers have literally threatened lives, not just to other fans but even to the creators of the movies. Literally threatening them into making the ship canon. They've made patitions to make it canon as if that would work. They've even harassed a lot of recent shippers to Elsamaren because "jelsa is canon."

Oh look at that, they're homophobic too...

...

...

...

... That's great 🙃

Isn't it a bigger sin to love a celestial being though? Therefore the fact that you –as a toxic christian– ship Elsa with a spirit it worse.

THEY'RE DELUSIONAL!!! So many of them have shipped jelsa so long that legit think it's canon!

Not only all that mess but there are literally more jelsa games on the internet then there are Merida games. I'm specifying this for personal reasons (aka Merida is my fave Disney princess)

And let's continue on with what really aggravates me as an artist. Jelsa shippers, stealing artwork, mostly from Jackunzel. This is not just a rumor, it's very much real.

And it doesn't help when all of their actual original fanart is just them taking scenes from Frozen and adding Jack. Then to add more salt on the wound is that almost all the fanfiction is the same, whether it'd be based during Frozen, rotg or in a highschool au.

There's literally nothing original about or going on with this ship, even after Frozen 2 came out, the shippers and fanfiction haven't changed. If anything it made the shippers spike up again.

The only thing that could say is original about jelsa is the frost daughter fanon. Oh boy! What we have to unpack here.

This is something that I recently heard about...

...

I am mortified.

Frost daughters is this little thing that jelsa shippers came up with, believing Jack and Elsa (if they could get pregnant) would have nothing but girls. What's scary about it is they're designs. Like they're trying to be original... But it's not really going great.

Most of them are just young!Elsa copies, some are edits of Elsa with Jack's hair color.

For example:

This is fine, this follows genetrical rules. I'm fine with this.

But what has me low-key petrified are some of the other designs.

Like... WTF IS ALL OF THIS!!! Where are this colors coming from?!! I don't understand 😭 You can see in the screen shots that these are literally titled as daughters of jelsa.

The white haired ones are fine. The ginger is understandable. Got it from Elsa's dad's genes. That's okay. A few are wearing pink? They can wear what ever they want. But wtf I'd going on with Nevada? Why is she black? Jack and Elsa the pastiest of white! And you cannot tell me that she got it from Elsa's mom because this was made BEFORE Frozen 2 and her mother is still white as an adult.

Where tf does the blue and pink hair come from? None of these make sense!

I want to kill myself, just looking at these!

That's gonna be the end of this rant

Now I'll say it again, I really have nothing against the ship itself. I too have casual ships that make no sense. But with ALL the fanfiction and fanart being so unoriginal and most jelsa shippers low-key being dangerous, it's hard for me respect people's opinions about it.

I try, trust me, I do! But it's become so murky in my brain that I can't tell the difference anymore and I'm also just not a fan of Elsa's character in general. And I like ships that actually make sense.

And being that I'm an equalist... it's really hard for me to look at this stuff and not get pissed off. I'm sorry if all of this comes off as aggressive because it kinda is.

I'm just very passionate, okay?

I hope you understand where I'm coming from. None of the pictures I used are mine. And I hope you have a good day?

#anti jelsa #antijelsa #jack frost #anti elsa #DreamWorks #disney #ships #hate jelsa #the big five

[theunconcernedembalmer]

what’s the issue with elisop? is it just bc you hc aesop as ace? im so concerned by seeing ppl adamantly opposed to mlm/wlw ships but im also genuinely curious about why you dislike it and other lgbt ships so much lol

hmm. that is a strong accusation, n i find it just a bit odd. are you new here? or perhaps you are taking personal offense at my dislike towards a favourite ship of yours and using the lgbt argument as moral high ground?

whatever the case may be, i thank you for asking. if u r truly looking for an answer, its below the cut n it is very very long. mind u these are all my personal opinions n i am in no way policing how others enjoy ships. just in case this wasnt clear; i dont wish to start discourse on this blog, especially since my takes are probably... unpopular.

firstly i would like to address the “disliking lgbt ships” bit, because this has very strong implications in itself. i have nothing against lgbt ships. i enjoy them, even. if the two characters have chemistry between each other, i ship it. however, the moment characterization is broken for the sake of romance, i lose interest. this is generally my stance on ships in general, n this applies for both straight n lgbt ships. 

the ships themselves are fine. however, i do have issues with the ship dynamics, so ill let u in on that.

i want to touch on mlm ships in particular; i believe u are familiar with the top/bottom dynamic that is rampant in these kinds of ships? (i wont deny that this dynamic can be found in other types of ships, but for arguments sake i will be focusing on gay ships because i feel that this occurs more commonly here) its such a popular dynamic that is prone to stripping the personality from one if not both characters, only for them to be reduced to being dominant/submissive. for a character to be pigeonholed into a stereotypical category based on... preferred sexual positions? its just downright insulting, never mind the larger more problematic implications of it. top/bottom is not indicative of someones personality, by the way. flattening multi dimensional characters into these stereotypes is so so so insulting.

unfortunately this is The Most Popular portrayal of just about any gay ship around. ive seen it being used everywhere in so many fandoms n it just about becomes apparent to me that ppl come to stories looking for a Ship. not the stories, nor the characters, just a ship. while id like to say theres nothing wrong with that, keep in mind not everyone is just looking for 2 characters that look pretty next to each other. if i ship something, i see interesting n meaningful interactions between 2 characters, which is so often not the case once u bring in the top/bottom dynamic. why is it so popular? because somehow this is what ppl like from a gay ship n hence it sells. ppl want the drama, characterizations be damned. ppl want to see the big kiss that happens in the end, n maybe the sexy parts that come after. characterizations be damned.

so u can say im a little wary of gay ships when they cross my feed. hell, as a joseph aesop shipper i see this trope everywhere n im pretty disappointed as well. small tangent but i feel like this is the reason why zh0ngli n ch1lde is so popular in g3nshin. i try to see the appeal, i really do, but after a long while of analyzing their respective characters i dont think they have as much chemistry as ppl think they do. dont even get me started on how incredibly ooc they make either of these very interesting n unique characters in ship portrayals. all because of the top/bottom dynamic that ppl want to see. i say this for that particular ship, but this is pretty much the case for a lot of ships out there, n the latter part is painfully true even when the 2 characters do have potential between each other. ill say it again im disgusted by the blatant disrespect to the characterizations if all ppl ever want is 2 pretty puppets to mush lips together. cos thats what theyre essentially reduced to this way.

n its so obvious to see when an artist subscribes to this rhetoric, because u can so clearly see it in the way they draw their characters. the “top” generally has sharper features to go with their “dominating personality”, while the “bottom” has disturbingly softer, feminine, dare i say sometimes child like features “to submit”. n thats where the uwu soft gay trope comes from, i believe. which, in case u still dont know, i hate with a burning passion.

so again for ppl with impaired reading comprehension, im fine with ships, including lgbt ones, but the moment u break characterization for the sake of the ship, im not that okay with it. u want to do it for a short crack comic? fine. but if thats the only way ur portraying the 2 characters then im immediately wary of ur content. ill still look at it cos usually the art is really good, but im very very wary. so im not “adamantly opposed”, just very critical of how the ships are being portrayed. if other ppl want to enjoy their ships like that, sure. just dont expect me to join in on something i dont agree on.

.

now id like to address not shipping “because i hc aesop as ace”. for ppl who are new to the blog (hello there), im an ace in a romantic relationship, so thats definitely not the reason i dont ship elisop. its more of being in a relationship has largely shaped my views towards romance as a whole. even before i met my boyfriend, i hated the romance genre in stories n media. most of it comes off as incredibly forced, especially those love triangles they seem to love putting into teen novels. thats one reason why i stopped reading when i was younger, but i digress.

did i partake in shipping when i was younger? i did. for a gay ship too (if anyone really wants to know, its kurotsukki from haikyuu. at least this was one that i can remember, i was mostly working on my 20 odd ocs for the longest time). i also used to write little short romance ficlets that i never posted anywhere cos i hated (n still do hate) my writing. but writing romance when u dont have experience was really just a way of projecting n probably a way of coping for myself, not that i knew at that time. but after i actually started a relationship with my boyfriend (whom i love n cherish a lot thank u very much), i began to see how much all these have skewed my views towards romance n have actually done some harm to our relationship. the bullshit that the general media feeds u constantly doesnt help in the slightest either.

quick topic shift to elisop in particular (about time, right?). i already stated that i only ship characters if i sense chemistry between the two personalities, n if u have seen the part where i dont ship elisop then u must have seen how agonized i am over not being able to have a concrete personality for eli. that is the main problem i have with elisop: eli does not feel like a solid character to me. n that is a huge problem, because if he doesnt have any defining characteristics besides being mild n nice, then he can be whoever i want him to be. (i have done this in my exorcist comics, i will admit this. n the fact that i can just do that... it really does not sit well with me personally.)

n that is dangerous.

back to young me doing lil ship things. i think its also pretty safe to say when u really do ship 2 characters, chances are u kinda really relate very very hard to at least one of them. that very quickly can turn into projecting, n shipping therefore is not “exploring the relationship between 2 characters” n it becomes “my preferred dating simulator 101″. of course this isnt always the case, but at least it was for me, n subconsciously it might be for lots of ppl too. n since this is ur mental playground, u call the shots, n there is no consequences if u slightly (or even entirely) alter one or both personalities to fit ur desired narrative. n u wouldnt even notice or know, cos ur blind to ur own biasness.

we bring our perceived notions into real life, im sure u know that. so when ur partner does not become that perfect knight in shining armour, or when they get upset at things that u do (which is a very normal thing by the way), n u think (very subconsciously), That isnt what my otp would do, something is wrong here (nothing is wrong, actually its just ur skewed perception of a stable romantic relationship). why wouldnt ur otp do this? because u are both halves of ur otps, there is no hidden secrets between them (apart from the pining part but thats irrelevant), n again they have been altered to fit ur preferred narrative. 

a real relationship requires a lot of communication between parties, because newsflash, liking someone doesnt mean that u have to like every single thing they do, they will make mistakes n it will hurt u, n guess what, the reverse is also true. if u do go with absoutely anything that they would do with 0 objections whatsoever, ur not crushing on someone, ur idolizing them, n that power imbalance is detrimental to a relationship. these things are not obvious to ppl, especially when the whole climate is hell bent on getting into romantic relationships by a certain age or some bullshit. communication is key n is pretty much the only way to solve relationship issues, because the other person has a lot that u r not seeing n vice versa. as similar as 2 ppl can be, i doubt u can have 100% the same thoughts on all things. i dont make the rules.

so in ur mental playground u focus on the fluffy parts, maybe there is communication, but rarely is there any meaningful conflict. thats unrealistic, n if u bring that mindset to an actual relationship, thats not going to end well. i say meaningful conflict, because yes, generally u shouldnt have conflicts with ur significant other. but inevitably when ur with each other for long enough, u will realize that there are habits that u must change in order to be with the other person. habits that are harmful to the other person directly, or harmful habits towards yourself that indirectly harm the other person. these are meaningful in a sense that if left alone, it will manifest into larger problems that will harm u, the other person n the relationship as a whole. its meaningful to the relationship.

all these is made even worse if ur neurodivergent. maladaptive coping practices, self sabotaging behaviours, inherent disabilities. all these must be adjusted n addressed. im so incredibly thankful for my boyfriend for being incredibly patient with me when working all these out, n it has not been easy for me to work on myself n all my problems, n im still not done working on them. this aspect is often not explored in romance in general (or properly), n there is a very good chance i would have still been stuck in the unhealthy mindset of “this isnt like my otp, maybe we’re not meant to be”. because loving someone is a choice. no one is made for each other, it is a conscious choice made between 2 ppl to make things work. this is how arranged marriages work, i am told, n i do see the appeal, not that it actually does appeal to me culturally.

special mention to the kurotsukki ship, cos from there i found a very, very good fic that explored their relationship before n after getting together, n it actually showed aspects of this problem in the incredibly slow burn of (at that time) 20+ chapters. it was just one fic (n a very good one at that, i believe it was called Leviticus), but it had a lesson i never thought i needed to learn, n learn it i did, with a lot of help from my dear. 

this is also probably the reason why i dont really want to delve too much into romance now. i know its a lot of work, n everything (mostly) that the media feeds u is really false advertising, but ppl eat that shit up n so it remains one of the most popular genres to date. im just very wary that if i do start on a romantic story, i want to be able to show it in a way like that fic did, the truths of relationships, because i dont want to make something that sells, i want to make something that meaningful to me, if a little indulgent. n that also includes being very careful in how the respective characterizations will change in a relationship. almost too careful now that i think about it, but its not something that i mind. i was never one for romance from the start, n now im very careful about shipping because of what happened to me persoanlly.

okay enough about me, lets talk about aesop. in any au u put the character in, the essence of the character must remain despite the change in environment. so lets say we have ur typical modern au. dead mom, check. shitty mentor doing illegal stuff? also check. autistic boy with social anxiety? we’re good to go. all these have implications on aesop as a character, n while ppl are aware of this, again the way they go about portraying it can go, in my personal opinion, very wrong. ppl who immediately woobify aesop completely because he has autism annoy me. ppl who reduce him to uwu soft boi cos he has social anxiety do not know how the disorder really works n as someone who has that i hate it to the core. ppl who do all these for the sake of ship have lost my respect. its insulting.

remember the top/bottom dynamic? not that elisop is completely free from that (even if i dont know much about eli, to put him in either one of those stereotypes feels very insulting to his character. i wont even say anything about doing it to aesop its so upsetting), but its not entirely made up of either. but now i want to introduce another trope i am very wary of, which is “i can fix him”. im sure u guys have seen the meme going around poking fun at this trope (for those who havent, its along the lines of “u can fix him? well i can be his worst nightmare”) n no doubt yall would have seen it n gotten sick of it in some forced hetero romantic bullshit. we have one damsel in distress with a saviour that solves all their problems just by existing n being romo with each other.

remember “my preferred dating simulator 101″? this is not mutually exclusive n from my point of view this is dangerously close to this trope. lets be real, if it was actually a thing that all ur deep rooted trauma magically disappears if someone were to waltz into ur life, we would want it. definitely. no painfully dissecting ur own problems n constantly facing them head on. real life states that this is not the case, but it will not stop us from dreaming. n so this trope is born n lives n will go on.

(finally) pulling aesop n eli into this, at least in my mind, u have one severely traumatized boy with lots of issues n u have this. nice mild guy who can be anything u want him to be. i hope u can see where im going with this, n thats the direction i see some elisop heading towards (i dont read a lot of elisop to be fair). if u came from my eli character talk, i mentioned that it is incredibly one sided. this is exactly what im talking about.

putting it all together in case u havent already, aesop is the damsel in distress, whose problems magically disappear because of elis godly kindness n little to no work on improving himself, n they lived happily n gayly ever after.

can u tell how much that does not appeal to me. 

never mind the butchering of character that inevitably happens somewhere somehow, the unrealistically perfect themes n implications of this trope makes me so viscerally uncomfortable. this is, of course, due to personal reasons, n i definitely see the appeal of this dynamic because i would probably have been interested in this once upon a time as well. but as i am now, with everything i have explained up there n everything i have been through, i would politely rather not.

n its difficult to think of another dynamic, because of how little i know about eli apart from him being this saint, which easily makes him a candidate for being aesops trauma panacea. never mind aesop rarely, if ever, does anything for eli as a character in return, n its so damaging to buy into this rhetoric, where a person like this who would solve all ur issues no strings attached exists somewhere in the world. they really dont. a relationship has to be mutually benefitting, or it will be draining n disastrous. maybe u say, Oh its nice to imagine it once in a while. n yeah, i agree, except once in a while is a little difficult to keep track of n that is sort of what happened to me. id rather stay as far away as possible from this kind of unrealistic fantasy, i just got this shit sorted out with myself n my boyfriend.

i have some other reasons, but theyre more personally problematic, so i wont go into them here. but this is mostly n generally why i do not ship elisop romantically. if u do, u do u, and have fun, but again dont expect me to join u. thank u for coming to my ted talk, this took a lot longer than expected.

#mun rambles #its me the mun #unconcerned ramblings #posting this now cos this is a question ive been getting #although this has been worded in the most unnecessarily passive aggressive way possible that i do not appreciate #im wary about all u so called social justice warriors championing this n that liberal idea when all u want to do is stir shit #thankfully i dont have much experience with this but just passively seeing all these ppl run their mouths is getting very annoying #but just know that i will not tolerate any of that bullshit here. because if u really do care about ppl as much as u say u do #then why r u attacking ppl period #ur really just hiding behind a righteous excuse to harm people. thats disgusting. i dont want u here

[theasstour]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓥𝓮𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓫𝔂 𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓸 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲

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

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

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

Sunday, 1 March 2020

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

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

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

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

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

“What?!”

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

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

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

“Do you even care?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

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

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

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

“That men find you attractive?”

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

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

“What, Y/N?”

“You just sound like a bellend.”

“How?”

Y/N gave her a look.

“How?!”

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

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

“Got what?”

Portia sighed. “Got nice arms.”

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

“I know it’s not all about looks.”

“It really is not.”

“But I still can’t help myself.”

“You’re such a prick.”

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

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

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

“Cheers.”

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

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

Portia rolled her eyes.

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

Portia crossed her arms, looking ahead.

“So boring.”

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

“Shouldn’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,” she said. “We have to go.”

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

Portia glanced at her as if she was insane.

“What?”

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

“Portia, this is a bad idea.”

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,”

“What?”

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

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

“Eight.” Y/N answered.

“And how many-“

“-Eight.”

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

“Why the fuck has he done that, Y/N?”

Y/N shook her head. “Dunno.-“

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

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

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

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

“It’s so painfully obvious, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

“-You can just call me Y/N.”

“You need to stand far away.”

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

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

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

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

“Won’t that smear the paint everywhere?”

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

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

“It’s dry.”

She frowned back at him. “Already?”

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

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

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

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Do you see that rock over there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Sit there facing me.”

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

“That could literally ruin my eyes.”

“Art goes beyond comfort.”

“I want to be able to see said art.”

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

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

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

Harry didn’t respond.

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

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

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

Harry huffed.

“What?”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry wasted no time. “Swing bar.”

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

“Explains the arms.”

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

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

She rolled her eyes. “I have not.”

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

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

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

“I’ll get it later.”

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

“What if someone steals your painting?”

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

“Don’t worry about it.”

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

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

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

“What?”

“A cat.”

“A live one?”

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

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

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

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

“Dunno.” Y/N sighed. “I… dunno.”

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

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

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

“Don’t bend your knee that much.”

Y/N readjusted her knee.

“No.”

“Then how?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will I always be there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At what?”

“You mean you don’t see it?”

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

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

Y/N took a closer look.

“Do you see all the blue?”

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N looked at her sister. “Yes.”

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

“He painted on me.”

“Shut. Up.”

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

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

“Portia!” Y/N hissed. “Leave off.”

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

Y/N only gave her a look.

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

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

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

Y/N frowned.

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

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

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

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

“With each planet, you slowly fade into-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m in London.”

“But I didn’t know you were.”

“But I am.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Harry sighed. “No.”

“Why?”

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

She frowned. “What made you think that?”

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

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

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

“Seemed that way over text.”

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

“A lot!”

Harry groaned. “Y/N, please.”

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

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

“We’re talking.”

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

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

“Uni,” she simply said. “And you?”

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

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

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

“It’s quite the exhibit.”

Harry nodded.

“Almost a little too extra.”

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

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

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

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

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

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

“Which is?”

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

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

“And us some more.”

She let out a small chuckle.

“What?”

“Start then.”

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

“I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

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

“Tortured me to think about you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could you explain it to me?”

He blinked. “Explain it?”

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

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

“I didn’t expect…”

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

She just looked at him, biting her bottom lip.

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

“It took me off guard.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Good.”

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

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

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

“The paintings.”

“It leads to the exhibition.”

“That’s the same thing.”

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

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

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

“Our solar system’s got eight planets-“

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

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

She didn’t know what to say to that.

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

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

“If you don’t-“

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

“Harry, slow down-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’re you in the ocean?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Here you can clearly tell-“

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

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

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

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

She nodded.

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

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

“Harry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N-“

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

He didn’t turn around still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Y/N?”

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

“What?”

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

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

“How I feel for you.”

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

“Just how you feel about me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N’s mouth fell open.

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

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

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

“I said don’t psycho-“

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

She blinked. “For what?”

“You.”

“Me?”

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

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

“That you felt like I did.”

“Exactly.”

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

“Harry-“

“-I love you.”

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

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

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

“I’ll wait for you.”

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

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

Thursday, 10 September 2020

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, the lighting’s amazing.”

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

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

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

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

“Sausage rolls!” Portia exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drake?”

“No.”

“That Felix lad?”

“Not him.”

“Ezra?”

Portia shook her head.

“Jackson-“

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

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

Portia rolled her eyes. “Azeem.”

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

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

“You did? What’d he say?”

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

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

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

“He asked me out on a date.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I do not! Oh, my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Been watching too much Love Island.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Complimenti per la laurea, celeste.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

“But I already am.”

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

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

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

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

“Go, Y/N.”

Saturday, 12 September 2020

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled. “What the fuck, Y/N.”

“What?”

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

“I’m here.”

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

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

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

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

“Big place for a big lad.”

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

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

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

“The puppy?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“A Scottish deerhound.”

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

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

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

“Harry…”

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

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

“Wanna take a look inside?”

She smiled at him. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m in love with you, Harry.”

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

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

Harry smiled. “Smug bastard.”

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

“Now fucking kiss me before I go out of my mind.” Harry said, an undertone to his voice that made a hot tingle run up Y/N’s spine.

“How about you kiss me?”

Harry frowned.

“After all, if I hadn’t kissed you in the ocean that night, would we even be here?”

“You take pride in that, don’t you? I would’ve kissed you eventually.” Harry said, and Y/N raised her eyebrows at him. “I would’ve!”

“Yeah, alright. When? The opportunity presented itself a couple of times, but you only had the nerve to kiss my hand.”

Harry gripped her hair hard in his hand, bringing her lips to hover above his. She gasped, looking down at his lips and then feeling it against her thigh. Very quickly, she felt hot all over, and the need to be closer to Harry grew so fast it made her dizzy.

“Got the nerve to fuck you good now, don’t I?” Harry said, voice so deep she felt it vibrate through her bones.

Y/N bit her lip. “What gentleman talks like that to a lady before he’s even kissed her for the first time in a year?”

“You want a gentleman?”

She ran her hands down his torso. “Depends on the situation.”

Harry kissed her jaw, leaving wet kisses down her neck. “Hmm, does it now?”

“Want a gentleman to walk the little puppy with, to make breakfast with, or to take me out for dates.”

“Do you want a gentleman between your thighs, baby?”

She closed her eyes at the feel of Harry’s lips on her, bit her bottom lip as he pressed her body closer to his. “Depends on how well that gentleman knows how to treat a lady.”

Harry chuckled, the feeling of his laughter against her skin was like heaven. “I’ll be a gentleman, the devil, an angel; I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

She huffed. “Thought we were doing dirty talk, and here you go turning it romantic.”

“I need you to shut up,” Harry said as his lips hovered above hers. “Because I’m about to kiss you and then fuck you on that sofa.”

She grinned, tilting her head to fit perfectly against his. “Kiss me.”

And he did. Hard and passionately. They wasted no time, slipping their tongue into one another’s mouths, clinging to one another, touching all over. They tasted the other, felt them right there. There were some birds singing outside, rustling of some leaves, but the two of them didn’t care. Harry pushed her backward till her legs hit the couch, but she stopped herself from falling back into it. Instead, she turned them around, pushing Harry back onto the ottoman.

“Let me show you how much I love you.” She said, and Harry let out a shaky breath at her words.

He quickly undid the buttons of his silk shirt, threw it somewhere behind him before he leaned on his elbows. “Nothing you’ve ever said has turned me on more.”

She giggled, taking her jeans and knickers off and straddling his lap. He sat up, attaching his lips to hers once again, grabbing onto her bum, begging her to grind against him. They both wanted some friction, and she knew that if he pressed her harder onto him, there would be wet marks from her left on his jeans. But in the moment, neither cared. They just wanted to be as close as humans could be, wanted to feel ecstasy. She buried her hands in his hair, dragging out the tongue filled, wet, lustful kisses. It was excruciating, and the heat between her thighs got more and more intense the more time went on. A wave of excitement and adoration ran through her as she felt Harry’s hand run up her back, reaching for her bra. He wanted to see all of her.

She let him, throwing her shirt off and letting her bra fall to the floor. Harry kissed her the second she was done undressing, moaning her name against her lips. She felt her centre ache, reaching for the zip of Harry’s jeans as quickly as possible. She couldn’t bare it any longer, she needed to be skin to skin; soul to soul. Y/N found that the people she had sex with, she formed an emotional attachment to them in a way that was unexplainable. There might not even be real feelings there, but you’d shared an intimate moment with someone, and it was a moment neither of you would ever forget. But with Harry, it was more than that. It wasn’t just a single moment she shared with him when they were like this; it felt like sharing an entire lifetime. It felt like happiness; it felt like the rest of her life. And she knew she was right to have spent time away from him, because she would tell him this over and over and over again, and she wouldn’t be ashamed or feel weak for admitting how much she loved him.

They got Harry’s jeans and boxers off, and as she took a grip of his cock, Harry stiffened. Their eyes met.

“A condom.” He said, reminding her what they were about to do.

She shook her head. “It’s fine.”

Harry gripped her thigh, squeezing her.

“You pay for the pill.”

He smiled, kissing her for a long time. “Fuck me, please.”

Slowly, she sat down on him, gasping at the familiar feeling of him inside her like this. Harry didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time, mouth opening wider for each centimetre he moved inside her. Positioning her feet on the floor, she started moving her hips over him. He instantly moaned, not able to help himself because it felt so good. He moved his hands up her thighs, her sides, her back, wanting to feel every single little part of her. Wanted her to know how much he appreciated every little thing about her. There wasn’t a single part of her body, of her soul, of her existence he didn’t love. She felt all his emotions in his touches, in the kisses he left along her collarbone, in the soft way he moaned her name.

She tried to push him down onto the ottoman, wanting to have him watch her as she rode him, but Harry stopped her. He shook his head, curls tickling her jawline and cheek.

“No,” he simply said, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m staying right here.”

And though he hadn’t meant it that way, Y/N still took it as him telling her he’d stay with her like this forever. After all, she’d been the one to leave him in the first place, but they were here now. Never was she going to leave him. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, the truest thing in her life, and her best influence. Had she ever been happy before she’d met him? Had she known true happiness till now? Because right now, feeling Harry’s bare skin against hers and hearing him repeat her name, she wasn’t so sure the happiness she’d felt before him could be counted as just that, happiness.

Harry squeezed her hips. “Like that,” he moaned, burying his face in the cook of her neck.

Nothing mattered besides the magic they were creating between them; nothing mattered but Harry and eternity. The soft skin of the inside of Y/N’s thighs against Harry’s hips and sides, pressed to him, sweaty. His tattooed body against her bare one. Heavy breathing, the occasional moan.

The burn in her core was really starting to build up now, and she knew it would burst any second. Harry moved his face so it was right in front of hers, studying her moving form above him. Her sliding hips, her desperate hands, her exclamations of pleasure. The butterflies in her stomach went crazy, all of them flying wildly in a single circle to intensify the oncoming orgasm. Harry’s hips moved more with hers, staring at her as she closed her eyes, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Harry said, hands trembling against her back.

She didn’t know why that almost brought her to tears, but it did, and she bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. No one had ever made her feel as stunning as Harry. Though she was confident in her body and on her own, being with Harry made her feel on top of the world. His love, his encouragement, his compliments, it all made her feel so incredibly good about herself in a way nothing ever had before. She had no idea how she could ever thank him for that.

Their hips moved rhythmically, hard against one another, desperate for release. Everything felt electric, everything felt hot. Y/N wanted to melt into him and have the two of them sitting like this forever. Wanted to feel him close, feel his love, feel his skin. Having him inside her like this, feeling him grip her hard, whimpering against her lips, moan her name; she felt powerful, beautiful, strong, and so so so good.

“Harry,” she moaned, looking into his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He said, bringing her closer. He reached between them, knowing that in order to come properly, she needed him to flick her bud. “Let me watch you come.”

“Oh, God.” She gripped his shoulders harder, moaning loudly as he rubbed her clit like he knew she loved so much.

“Yeah?” He watched her, flicking her faster. “Come for me, baby.”

She came hard. Harry watched her intently, clearly holding back his own release till he knew she was completely done with hers. She grinded on top of him, looking deeply into her eyes as hot flames lashed threw her body, rocking up her entire reality. She gasped for breath and moaned and repeated Harry’s name over and over and over again until it let like it was the only word she knew. Her legs were shaking, and it was hard for her to move properly so he could come to.

“Say it.” Harry said, his neck vein about to show and his face reddening with the oncoming climax. “Tell me.”

She knew exactly what he needed to hear. “I love you.” She whispered against his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the side of his lips as she continued to rock over him. “Everyday, for the rest of my existence, I’ll love you.”

“Fuck.” Harry moaned, not able to look away from her. “Y/N. My love.”

She held his face in her hands. “Never leave me. I love you too much.”

“Never.” Harry said, a moan escaping his lips. “Shit.”

He came, not looking away from her. A furrow appearing between his brows, lips parted, and Y/N had never seen anything so hot and beautiful. He stilled, neck vein showing, and he moaned and moaned and moaned. She watched him till he came down, feeling his cum inside her, feeling his breathing against her, his arms around her.

“You need to go meet Gopher now.” Harry said after a little while.

“My puppy.”

Harry laughed. “We’re gonna have a house filled with fucking animals, aren’t we?”

“And what about it?” Y/N smiled. “Don’t you want to see me happy?”

Harry’s eyes softened, smiling slightly up at her as he took her hand, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed her hand, then her palm, then the pulse of her wrist. “For the rest of my life, celeste.” His smile widened as he felt her beating hearts against his lips. “My baby blue.”

the BIGGEST thank you to all my beta readers! you lot have saved me and helped me more times than i can count! love you!

@aileenacoustic @sunflowervolumeeleven @emotionally-imbruised @fromyourstrulyh @harryisadogperson @harrysthighles @mellowstyles94 @toolazymyguy @clorenafila @dearest-rebecca @tpwkceline @tasteslikestrawberriesharry​

and thank you to you! thank you for reading baby blue! thank you for the love sent both mine and bb’s way! thank you for letting me tell you yet another story, the fact that you sit down each sunday (or whichever day tbh) to read bb and immerse yourself in the bb-verse means so much to me!

as for what i’m gonna do next cos i’ve gotten quite a few questions about that! i won’t be posting writing on tumblr or wattpad till may, but in the meantime i’ll be over at patreon posting! there’ll be a poll there where some of my patrons can vote for what they want me to write next and i’ll post something every week!

my next fic will be announced sometime in april (tho i’ve talked about what it’s gonna be multiple times lmao), and the first few chapters will be available to read on my patreon before it starts posting on my other platforms!

ANYWAY, i love you all so much! thank you again! bb!harry and bb!mc appreciate you very much, as do i :’’)

thank you so much. till next time, stay hydrated.

your bestie, nora x

[404fmdtaejin]

famed idol life / career meme

notes: once again, a big mega post because i didn’t want to flood dash with answers. thanks to everyone that sent in!! 

1. what is your favorite single you’ve released?

“solo wise? i’ve only released one solo portal song, which was a self-written song called that’s okay. well, bc forced that one on me when they took pages from my diary — still, my only one solo release, and that’s the favorite since i’m left with no other option. in regards to group? everyone knows, amigo or not — my favorite will always be view. something special about that time, i tell you.”

2. what are your favorite b-sides/non-title tracks you’ve released?

“since i haven’t released any songs by myself other than the one mentioned before, i’d have to go through decipher’s discography. lovesick, odd eye, prism, honesty, stranger, better off — there’s a lot to sift through in the past few years. unfortunately, there’s a point where my interest had started weaning off idol-dom, and you can observe that when i stopped paying attention and interest into what decipher did conceptually after 2016. at least the enjoyment was fun while it lasted.”

3. what is your least favorite song (title track or b-side) you’ve released?

”that’s an easy one. you take any b-side we’ve released in the past few years, and that probably makes the list. the comeback with the b-side shot was awful. that’s probably the worst, in my head. never was a fan of that comeback, now that i think of it — i call it the dark blip of decipher’s early career. perhaps it’s just ambivalence at this point that i have no real strong feelings towards bsides nowadays.”

4. if you could do a duet with anyone in the industry, who would you choose? what do you think of your/your group’s concept?

“i’d want to do a duet with duri — we’ll have a tale of the oldies. the two 1990 liners inside bc’s walls doing a ballad song. though, duri would have to take the high notes on that one seeing as how he’s a power vocalist. there’s rarely times where i’m able to keep in touch or have people around my age, and for that — i’m always grateful when i come across that. we’d manage something interesting given the same age, and the ballad concept.”

5. what do you think of your/your group’s concept?

“decipher doesn’t really stick to a concept, and i suppose our concept has always been to branch into new avenues. there’s good things and bad things about it, obviously. we’re given new things to try, new stylings, and what not. however, we’re also subjected to that risk in case it doesn’t turn out how bc envisioned. to put it short — it’s either a hit or miss.”

6. what is one thing (a concept, a genre, an outfit, etc.) you would least like your company make you do?

“decipher’s novelty in the industry is that we’ve been here so long that we’ve managed a lot of different concepts. from the house pop to retro vibes, even spring ballads in soft tunes — we’ve done it all. the least? i’d say another electronic heavy music where we’re dancing like madmen. i wouldn’t mind a powerful choreography to show i can still ‘hang’, but to the sounds of techno-ish music? i don’t think so. at least, not with my age.”

7. what one thing (concepts, genres, styling, frequency of comebacks, etc.) would you like to change about your current career as an idol?

“i don’t want to comeback so frequently — it seems we’re coming back more frequently than other rookies. it would be nicer to stay back and relax while we let the hoobaes have their time to shine. genres and concepts aren’t really on the top of my list to complain about, though i would enjoy an old throw-back to decipher’s glory days where we’re given something newer. perhaps, that’d be enough to rejuvenate my attitude towards the industry.”

8. if you could be in any idol group, which one would you choose?

“with my age, i don’t think i’d fit any group. perhaps, i could assimilate myself to knight, but the bad boy niche doesn’t really match mine. say, i was a few years younger — then, you’d have me inside charm. i think i’d do a pretty good left and right if you ask me.”

9. if you could say one thing to your ceo, what would it be?

“i respect the business model you form. however, i’m still trying to understand it when applied to me. thirteen years, and i have yet to sit down and have a conversation with you. it’d be nice to have one someday.”

10. if you were auditioning for your company today, what would you perform for your audition, or what would you change from your original audition?

“my audition was so long ago. fourteen, fifteen years now, and that’s nearly half of my life. i wish i could remember parts — but there’s only the snippet of a ballad i sang, probably kim bum soo. all alongside some awkward dancing that bc shaped me up for. i’d probably pick a sung sikyung song instead.”

11. if you could do any special stage, what would it be and who would it be with?

”call it a weird match, but i’d have a set with duri, andy, joohwan, my maknae and jiah. well, those would be the people i’d know well enough to collaborate with, though the outcome might not be as promising as i initially thought. case closed, never make me do a special stage.”

12. what career opportunities would you like to pursue that you’ve yet to, or what achievements would you like to obtain that you’ve yet to?

“maybe a bit of variety? i’m completely happy where i am with acting, though it’d be better if decipher’s comebacks were rarer. however, i’m taking what i can get and variety might be a chance to show the side that doesn’t get shown when i’m playing a role on tv. i’ve heard from some people that i can be funny at times.”

13. if you could become a model or ambassador for any brand, what would you choose?

“as much as i like high fashion, i haven’t done any modeling in regards to brand deals with high fashion. a luxury brand would be nice — i hear prada has changed with the entrance of raf simons. i’ve been into the streetwear look lately after itaewon class, so that would be a current go-to. otherwise, i think i’m happy promoting good feel and credit cards.”

14. if you could be on any variety show, which one (or which type of one) would you want to be on?

“i live alone would be my first pick. only because i’ve decorated my house nicely recently, and haven’t had a chance to show it off to many people as i’m not home as often these days. however, that’d require an off day and i don’t have many of those lately. i think people would be shocked to see what i do when i’m around my house, lounging and rarely moving around.”

15. if you were offered the chance to become a ceo of an entertainment company, new or existing, would you take it? why or why not?

“as much as i’m leader of decipher, i don’t think i could handle leading a company. i wouldn’t want to become a ceo. it distracts from my own schedule, and i’d be too focused on my company rather than the hobbies and interests that appeal to me. sure, i’d make more money — but what’s more money on top of the money i already have? it’s counterproductive and i’d rather do what i like doing.”

16. what changes would you implement if you were the ceo of your company?

“each company runs on a specific pattern of events, and there’s a reason for that. a reason why routine shapes each group, so i wouldn’t necessarily change much. my trainee year was difficult, but it also fostered friendships within the group that i consider irreplaceable. the only change i can think of? maybe getting to know my artists rather than staying far off.”

17. what do you do to relieve the stress of idol life?

“i work out. i run a lot, and go to the gym as cliche as it sounds. but each role requires me to be in top shape, and after all that i’ve found a love for working out each morning. other than that, i like to shop and cook, even walk my dog. normal things any other person does on their day off. by the end of the day? finishing it off with a cold beer becomes my saving peace.”

18. what tips would you give to a trainee about to debut?

”push through it because it’s only a matter of time till debut happens. the trainee years are taken for granted, and you need to learn to treasure those moments. once debut happens, there’s no looking back and you’re constantly on the move — so, you’re better off enjoying now. also, don’t be afraid to approach sunbaes. we’re all in the same boat, been there and done that, so let us help where we can.”

19. what was the hardest part of being a trainee?

“singing while running around the room? i remember running too many laps, out of breath belting a high note. looking back, it was probably the time i thought i was going to end my trainee career right there and run to my parents. other than that? learning to live with others? i’ve lived a blessed life, and i’ve never had to share a room with anyone. that felt like a culture shock.”

20. did you enjoy the lifestyle of a trainee or of a debuted idol more?

“call me weird, but i’d say the trainee life. there was something special about those days, and now i’m so many years in my career and i miss the days crammed in the dorms. i don’t think there’s anything like it. the structure of it, the tears of joy and sadness all into one — every emotion all there. it’s rare moments like those i’ll never get back.”

21. what one song or album by another group or soloist would you have liked to release yourself?

“i’ve heard a lot of songs, but i heard a song recently by a charm member. one of the solo projects of dai, and his song let’s love was something that made me want to release music as well. maybe, it’s just inspiration just at that moment, but the song was something i enjoyed listening to. knight’s tempo was also something that i wish decipher was given, just because there’s a certain spark when it comes to the song.”

22. describe your dream sub-unit (members and concept).

“my dream sub-unit? does that relate to in-group or out of group? for the sake of this question, i’ll keep it in-group to simplify things. i’d like to keep our main vocal, myself and our lead rapper only because the maknae already has his thing in champion — though conceptually, i’m not sure what we’d be able to do. something non-dance related, i’d hope. perhaps, a power house vocal because i know our lead rapper can belt a few notes better than most main vocals of other groups.”

23. out of the following six options, would you rather be allowed to play a major hand in the lyrics, production, choreography, styling, music videos, or concepts you release?

“no lyrics, production or choreography. i’ve never been talented in that market, and maybe that’s why i don’t take part in any of these things. instead, i’d keep to the styling, and music videos — though, i don’t have an artistic eye. perhaps, i’d keep to styling as it lies most with my interests. my members might get bored of wearing the same dress shirts and slacks for each comeback.”

24. which of the two other companies (out of bc, dimensions, and gold star) you are not currently signed under would you rather be an artist in?

“none of the other two. i’ve said it time and time again that i’m loyal to bc — i might complain about it, sure. but in hindsight, i don’t see myself being in any other music company. now, if you had asked me in terms of acting? then, we’d have a different story between namoo, artist and vast.”

25. what is your least favorite part of being an idol?

“there’s no breaks, not for age. there’s little opportunity to cease the past, and continue on a new future. instead, i’m always tethered to the role of an idol, and despite how much i try — they still reel me back in each time for another comeback. on top of that, some songs don’t age well with time — decipher has a few of those. yet, because they’re fan favorites, i have no choice but to dance and sing along as if it’s 2009 again.”

26. what is your favorite part of being an idol?

“ironic, but there’s a lot of opportunities to try new things. i wouldn’t have thought of cf modeling or acting, if it weren’t for the opportunities presented to me. as a result, i’ve found a new enjoyment in an acting career due to the idol life. plus, along the way i meet different people to give me new insight — suppose it keeps me young again.”

27. would you rather be incredibly famous with a terrible reputation and hated by most or be fairly unknown with a good reputation and adored by those who know of you? why?

“i don’t know how to answer this one because being incredibly famous with a terrible reputation is just a cheapened output of your career you’ve built thus far. that would simply become a life unenjoyable, so by default i suppose i’d rather have the latter. fairy unknown with a good reputation because that way, you have a basis to build yourself up.”

28. what moment in your career are you proudest of so far?

“i’d either attribute it to parasite, which did win a lot of accolades not only in the country but out or i’d give it to the recent baeksang nomination for the dramas i was in. i don’t think i’d ever predict the success of stories i had a pleasure of working on. in retrospect, it was nice that so many people were able to relate and get along with the characters i was given the honor of portraying.”

29. what have you learned about yourself and/or society since becoming a celebrity?

“i’m no longer an extrovert. in fact, i’m more of an introvert. i used to think i was an extrovert, and one time i was when i was busy running around getting assimilated to those new faces. however, over the years, my circle’s only run short and i’ve been given little things here and there that make me want to preserve my small circle of people i’ve gotten to know along the way. i don’t like going out and partying, and much rather have a night in with dubu in peace.”

30. what would you like to change about how society views or treats idols?

“it’d be nice to be given more freedom — but isn’t that what everyone wants? i’m talking about stepping into something without facing backlash, or how we’re seen as approachable because we’re public figures. it’d be nice to sit down and have a meal without the thought of dispatch finding who i’m with, or scrutinizing any of my friendships. there should be some level of normalcy given, and i think that’s the least anyone could ask for.”

#fmdmeme001 #thanks to everyone that sent in!! :) #fmdkiana #fmdtaeyong #fmdjihoon #fmdsunghee #fmdjoosung #jiwonfmd #fmdting

[bambikisss]

Cafe Rewind

Hey everyone! Here is the first chapter of the series! I’m so excited to keep writing this and post it. This took me a bit, but i’m proud of it. Enjoy!

~<3

Chapter 1

I don’t even know why colleges feel like they need to take so much money from their students, but they do. But not only that, they don’t even do that well.  

Hence why I'm applying to jobs right now to pay rent.

You see, I used to live on campus, like every freshman does, when my roommates started bringing over their boyfriends. After a while, I got super uncomfortable with how many times they had sex in the room, along with every time I’d walk in on them. I decided that I would live off campus to make sure that I would never have to go through that experience again.  I used all my money to look for the perfect place and design it. But now that school is starting again and I got my supply list, I realized something:

I’m really broke.

“Why are there so many jobs offered on campus?” I asked myself, scrolling through the open jobs before sighing aggressively.  To be able to work on campus, you must LIVE on campus, which no longer applies to me. Deciding that I've spent enough time on this, I got up and stretched, closing my laptop, grabbing my phone and a hoodie before walking out the door. I need to walk to think straight so that I don’t throw my laptop across my living room. Another reason I chose my apartment was because it was close to a café named “Cafe Rewind”.  I used to love coming to that café after classes and getting a nice latte, but I stopped when I moved and decided to rely on Starbucks.  

Big Mistake. I got sick from that place and their prices drained my bank account dry.  

Before I opened the door, I noticed a sign by the window the words “Help wanted.” Like a truck, it hit me hard: I could just work here.  

I walked inside, smiling immediately at the familiar atmosphere before walking to the counter to order a drink and maybe bring up the sign outside. The minute I reached the counter, I noticed to guys yelling and pointing to the faucet. “How could you break this, Yugeom?!” The older man yelled at who I assumed to be Yugeom, even though he was much taller than him, so he had to look up. “I didn’t, Hyung! That was totally you! I was making myself an iced coffee!” Yugeom said back before sighing and fiddling with the faucet some more. I’ve never seen them before. They must be new.  

“Excuse me, miss” I snapped out of staring at the two men before turning around to face another man, who looked about my age. He had a piercing under his eyebrow, black fluffy looking hair, and a slight stubble on his face. “We aren’t open yet. How did you get in?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to see over my head and look at the two men who were still yelling about the faucet. “Oh, sorry. The door was unlocked so I just thought I’d walk in.’’ I sound like a creep. He smiled at me, showing a bit of his teeth before motioning for me to follow him to the counter. He had a messenger type bag with him, that he put on the counter. “I, um, also saw the sign outside” I whispered. I was trying to figure out a way to bring it up to him. He looked so scary. “The help wanted sign?” he responded, tapping stuff on the tablet.  

Huh, guess he herd me.  

I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat up from embarrassment. He looked up at me before looking over my body slightly. It made me feel like I should have worn something else due to how his gaze looked. Once his eyes met mine, he smiled softly, his gaze also softened. “Ok, follow me to the back” he opened the door beside the counter before walking in, holding it open for me to follow him. I followed him, even though I felt like I was being kidnapped. The room was their break room, apparently, which had a couch, vending machine, along with a table that also looked broken, but glued back together. The only thing that was on it was a plastic bottle with a random flower in it (which also looked fake).  

He sat down on the couch and patted a spot next to him, which is where I sat. There was a moment of silence before I noticed his name tag. “Jaebum?” I asked, looking up at him. He looked shocked for a second before realizing where I looked. “Yeah, but it’s spelled wrong. Its j-a-e-b-e-o-m" I nodded before holding my hand out for him to shake. “I’m Y/N” he smiled before shaking my hand. “That’s a pretty name” his voice seemed deeper than earlier, which made me shiver a bit. ‘’So, have you worked in a café before?’’ he asked me, making me remember the fact that this was probably an interview. “Yeah. I worked at my mom’s café called ‘Blue Rose’. I worked there for 4 years” Jae seemed very interested in what I was saying and didn’t stop me when I stopped talking. I was about to add more information when I heard an alarm on his phone go off. “Shit, morning rush. There’s an apron on the coat rack. Go wash your hands and help me while stupid one and stupid two play around with the faucet that I’m pretty sure Jackson broke. He even broke the table by trying to sit on it” He rushed before running out the door.  

Well, that went well.  

I grabbed the apron and rushed out the door like Jae did, sliding behind the order station. When I looked down at it, however, I noticed it needed a password.

Of course, it does.

Before I could say anything, Jae must have noticed my confused face because he yelled “it’s Noralove33.” I quietly giggled while typing it in. Whoever Nora is, she’s so lucky. The minute I finished typing it in, a group of people came in; about 9 of them came in...and ordered...

All at once.  

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand any of you. Do it one at a time” I sounded like a preschool teacher, but whatever. Once I got their orders, I handed it to Jae, who took it and began making drinks as quickly as possible. As quickly as I ordered, he finished and placed it on a tray and called the group’s table number. “That was so fast, Jaebeom” he smiled at my compliment before rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, I do this a lot.’’ I was about to say something when Yugeom, one of the faucet guys, walked over to us. “Mark hyung said he’ll fix the faucet when he comes in... who's the noona” he pointed to me while whispering to Jae. He chuckled and flicked Yugeom’s ear. “This is Y/N. She is going to be working with us from now on.” Yugeom bowed before rubbing his ear. He seemed so much younger than Jaebeom did. “You don’t have to call me noona. I’m 20. I’m in college right now” I smiled at him. His eyes grew bigger as he smiled. “We are too! What’s your major, Y/N? Favorite teacher? Dorm room number?” he was asking questions so quickly that I couldn’t keep up. “Yah, you’re scaring her, and morning rush isn’t even over yet.’’ They both seemed so nice and calm. While we were talking, Jackson came over and, much to his disliking, was trying to explain the table incident to me. I worked the rest of the morning before Jaebeom tapped my shoulder as a man with black hair, a blue shirt, and jeans walked in. “That’s boss Jinyoung. Be nice.’’  

Boss Jinyoung?

“Hello Jaebeom. You said there was a newbie?’’ His voice seemed deep, almost like a grandpa or dad's voice. Jae patted my shoulder softly. “I trust her. She seems fast enough.” Boss Jinyoung nodded before handing me a packet and looked back at Jae. “Tell Jackson to stop breaking things.’’ Then, he walked out. I looked down at the packet, noticing the contract. “Hurry up and sign it, Y/N. I have to go to class in a few minutes and I can’t let you keep that.” he chuckled while taking his apron off. I looked up at the time and gasped. “You too?” I nodded as he helped me take mine off. “I’ll take you. Consider it a thank you for wanting to work here and helping me with morning rush.” I looked back down at the packet and grabbed a pen off the counter. My eyes were drawn to the bold words above the signature line:

Dating is not allowed.  

I gulped before signing. I hope everyone else here isn’t extremely attractive (besides Jaebeom, Yugyeom, and Jackson). I handed the packet back to Jae before we began walking out the door. I noticed the ‘Help Wanted’ sign was taken down. “You work here now, Y/N. We don’t need anyone else” he told me before opening the door for me. I walked outside and noticed the weather was better and warmer than this morning. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Jae asked me, walking to his sleek black car. “Get in. I promise I drive better than I sing” I laughed before getting into his car. The inside was very sleek and clean. I noticed some R&B albums on the backseat as he got in. “You listen to R&B? I LOVE that genre.” I smiled before grabbing a CD. Jae had already started the car and began driving when I opened it. “You can put it in if you like.” I put it into the CD player before closing my eyes and listing to the singer and the beat. “I’ve never heard this artist before, but I love it. Who are they?” the CD cover didn’t have a name on it. All it said was ‘Volume 3.’ “That’s me” Jae said, smirking at my shocked reaction. “You said you drive better than you sing! There’s no way this is you!” he nodded before turning the volume down a bit so he could only hear the beat and not his voice. He began singing, and his voice sounded just like the guy’s did on the song.  

“Ok, so maybe this is you. What’s the song called?” He smiled before turning into the school’s parking lot. “Ring. I made it a week ago. Anyway, do you want me to drop you off near your class building?” He asked me while showing the security guard his school ID. I thought for a brief second about is offer. I wouldn’t have to walk and from here it’s far... “Please do” I cringed at my request as he laughed. “Please do? Are you royalty or something?” I rolled my eyes before telling him the building number. I felt kind of sad when he pulled up to my building, but then he pulled into a parking space and parked the car. “Your building is near mine. Do you want to get lunch with me after class?” I could feel my cheeks heat up a bit before nodding. He made me feel like I was in 5th grade, crushing on a boy.  

Stop thinking like that...you can’t even date him...he has Nora.  

“Sure, but won’t Nora mind?” I asked, getting out of the car. He let out a big laugh as he locked the door. “Nora? My cat? Why would she mind?” I could feel the embarrassment hit my face as he said that.

His cat...ugh, I'm jealous over a cat. That’s a new low, Y/N L/N.

I started walking to my building while Jae called from behind me. “Where are you going, Y/N? Want to talk more about Nora?’’

“Meet me out here after class! Bye!”

#got7 #got7 im jaebeom #got7 imagines #got7 mark #Im Jaebum #JYP #jackson wang #got7 jackson #mark tuan #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #choi youngjae #got7 youngjae #got7 bambam #kim yugeom #got7 yugyeom #cafe rewind

[lamortexiii]

Shades and Shadows: What Exactly is an Art Witch?

We live in an age now where you’re no longer burned at the stake for identifying as a witch or wanting to burn down your local church. If anything it’s become trendy, and all kinds of different witches are cropping up as a result. In fact, the internet is loaded with posts where you can essentially Web MD whether you have the qualifying “symptoms” of a witch, and all sorts of little BuzzFeed-esque quizzes to further help you identify just what kind of witch you might be. While this is cute and whatnot, witchcraft is ultimately a path; it’s a practice. I myself am still learning every day. If you caught my introduction post, you may be wondering what exactly an art witch is, or what art even has to do with witchcraft or the occult in general. Let me explain…

Creativity is something that requires you to tap into the unseen, and for me, this is where the correlation between art and the occult begins. Art is a means of entering another world, and it’s actually how I got into witchcraft and the occult in the first place. While my interest in such began at a much younger age, actively practicing and delving in didn’t begin until later when I started painting abstracts. I had no idea this was the path painting would lead me down. Like anything new, painting was initially an experiment. It was fun, it was easy, it was something I could do without thinking too hard, and it felt like I was finally tapping into myself. But something strange began to happen as I got more and more into art, I started to feel as though I was stepping out of my current reality and into something more. I would get so engrossed in what I was doing that when I would step away from a painting, I found myself wondering where it had come from and who had painted it. Of course I never told anybody for fear of sounding insane, but I began to wonder about this something more I was stepping into. So I started asking questions and suddenly found myself with a wealth of information that actually resonated with me.

Ever since then, I’ve made art a part of my practice. Not necessarily on a daily basis, but the parts of my practice that don’t involve art still work to strengthen myself as an artist. The two just seem to intertwine so well. Basically, an art witch is someone who not only incorporates art into their practice but finds a solid connection with their practice through their art. It’s more than just being an artist who also happens to practice witchcraft. I think anything creative that you can incorporate into your practice will strengthen both you and your practice, and I think that goes back to what I said earlier about creativity being a way to tap into the unseen. Really what makes you any kind of witch is figuring out where you feel like you step into your power. Where is it that you find that solid connection with yourself? If you want to find your connection to anyone or anything else, especially something intangible like “the other side,” you first have to find that connection with yourself, and that connection then has to be nurtured. There are many ways you can incorporate art into your practice, which I will be discussing further in upcoming posts, but one very basic application is using it to keep your mental health in check. Walking a spiritual path of any sort does not make you immune to life’s challenges, and let’s face it, 2020 has been the year for challenges. I would be lying if I were to say I haven’t been thrown off track a few times. However, looking back on those moments it’s easy to see where I just wasn’t applying any of my practice to keep myself in check.

Art is incredibly powerful in healing rituals, so naturally one of the main things I do to keep my mental health in check is to paint. I understand that not everyone is an artist or even remotely interested in such, but chances are you’re more creative than you think. When you’re engaged in something like artwork, you’re momentarily distracted from what ails you. You’re also allowing whatever state you’re in to just be, meaning you’re not berating yourself for it, which often does more damage than the initial state itself. An art ritual can be as simple as lighting a candle or burning incense and putting what you feel onto canvas. Lighting a candle or burning incense alone can sometimes be enough to help shift your state of mind. Of course no practice is meant to replace working with a professional when necessary, but it can certainly aid in the process. Art doesn’t always have to be a serious practice either though. There are times when I take what I’m doing more seriously, but it can be easy to get too caught up in that, so it’s equally important to let go and have fun.

Something new I’ve incorporated into my art practice is connecting with my paintings through card reading. As Ja Rule once said in a rap skit, “the cards never lie, it’s all in the tarot reading.” In all seriousness though, I find reading cards an excellent way to check in with my own energy, the energy around me, and as I stated, the energy of my paintings. One of the areas I began to feel stuck regarding my artwork was feeling like I never knew what to say about my pieces. It felt as though I wasn’t connecting with my own paintings on the level of the story they have to tell. Pulling cards is a creative way for me to go about that connection and allows for expansion in both my art and my practice. If you’re familiar with reading cards, then you know the kind of guidance and insight they have to offer, but it had never occurred to me to incorporate them in my art practice.

I think a lot of the time when we feel stuck, whether it’s in an area of life, an emotional state, or even a mindset, it’s because we need to look at how we could expand whatever it is. Even I go through periods where my artwork and practice feel stagnant, and it’s usually because I’m lacking growth in that area. All the extra free time we’ve been given this year due to the pandemic is also giving us the opportunity for major growth, and as many of us know, that can be uncomfortable. Maybe it’s time to try new things. I think it’s become glaringly evident (at least in the United States) that the way we’ve been going about things as a society is not working. Maybe that’s what the rising interest in witchcraft and the occult is all about. More and more people are waking up to the fact that a lot of what we’ve been fed, such as traditional religion, isn’t working anymore. Let me make it perfectly clear though, I have nothing against religion, so if it works for you that’s great.

For me witchcraft is about stepping into your own power. Does that mean you need it? No, of course not, it’s simply a tool. That’s why I can’t stress enough the importance of figuring out where you step into your power, or what it is that energizes you. It doesn’t have to be art or even witchcraft for that matter. It could literally be anything. Follow the things that spark your interest. If you are following the path of witchcraft, incorporate these things into your practice, even if they seem completely unrelated. These are all simple tools, and they will give you something to work with when you meet life’s inevitable challenges. It will also help to expand you and your practice as well.

Shades and Shadows Blog by @thecraftyvvitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com

<•Ø•>

#shadesandshadows #lhp #occultblog #witchcraft #wicca #pagan #highermagick #black flame #coven #livedeliciously #thecraftyvvitch #psychvvitch #lamortexiii #luciferian #satanism #knowledge #freedom

[claiirvoyantjedi]

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  || Headcanons :: Eileria ||  ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I thought I’d share my headcanons on Kyrra’s homeworld, Eileria. I’m not done, and some of the details definitely needs work. But this is primarily for myself to refer to when I use Kyrra’s Lady of Eileria verse and I think I already have way more details than I’ll ever need.

Enjoy!

Asterological information

·         Region Mid rim

·         Sector Nicandra sector

·         System Eileria System

·        Moon(s) Geon II Yeliv

·         Trade routes The Couter route The Celanon spur

·         Rotation period 26 standard hours

·         Orbital period 324 days

Physical information

·         Class Terrestrial

·         Atmosphere Breathable

·         Climate Hot and dry

·         Primary terrain Cities Plains Mountains and hills Oceans Forests

·         Points of interest Oquion Sanctuary

Ruroluna bay The great Eilerian sea Lake lands Mos Miara Palace Vulcano fields of Nagrea

Societal information

·         Primary language(s) Basic Twi’lek

·         Immigrated species The foregone (Extinct) Humans Twi’lek

·         Government Aristocracy

·         Demonym Eilerian

·         Major cities Mos Miara (Capital) Jiamel Filhnaes Su’inia Viphaistia

·         Major imports Electronics Technology Ore

·         Major exports Silk Art Organic chemicals Wine Foodstuffs Perfumes

·         Affiliation The galactic republic The Confederacy of Independent systems

·         Most of Eilerias major cities are located at the coasts, but the capital of Mos Miara is located on the inland

·         Eileria’s seas are farmed for the Cetu, a seaweed used in pharmaceuticals.  When treated correctly it contains a chemical that provides very potent pain relief. Its production and processing is regulated for trade reasons as well as the danger of disturbing the aquatic life that also thrive on the weed or farming it to extinction.

·         A peaceful people who take great pride in hospitality and generosity. One of the great offences one can commit on the planet surface is to disrespect the rules of hospitality by disrespecting your host and their home or mistreating your guest. 

·         Eileria is home to a fairly large population of Twi’leks, having welcomed them as refugees many years ago. Many chose to stay and became part of the community.  The current ruler of the principality of Bylene, L’idara Deulara, is a Twi’lek.

·         About two thousand years prior to the Clone Wars, Eileria was deep in bloody civil wars. The noble families fought each other for power and control over the system. Over time and through many treaties the large battles turned into quiet assassinations and from that to sabotage and espionage, to finally settling on the peaceful and cooperative system currently in order. Everyone agreed on never letting the bloody shadow of their past return, nurturing peaceful ideals, philosophies and diplomacy.  

·         Even though the bloody and violent days are far behind them, teaching the youths of noble families self-defence is a tradition that have not really faded with time. For younger generations of the noble class to get together in friendly spars, showing off their skills, is common.

·         Aside from nobility being unable to keep rom killing each other, the past systems also brought on regular revolts from the people they ruled. Even now the council ruling Eileria is exceedingly mindful of the will of the people, because they can and will fight them if they are unhappy, and they are educated enough to know it.

·         Eileria was once populated by a race now only known as The Foregone. A humanoid race that was eradicated about a million years before the rise of the old republic when a great catastrophe caused earthquakes and tsunamis to destroy their civilization. Traces of them are still found in the shape of ancient buildings, on the ocean floor and dotting the landscape of the inland.

·         On Eileria the age of responsibility is 17. At this point the individual is considered an adult and is legally responsible for their own actions and affairs. Before that they are the responsibility of a parent or legal guardian.  

·         Eileria foster a people who value peace, philosophy, artistic expression and education. The ruling body were composed of families who represented and contributed to the spread of these values among the masses the most.

·         Eileria is split into 5 principalities, each ruled by a duke or duchess. These nobles make up the ruling council who, along with a group of elected officials and local representatives, get together to discuss issues or make any decisions that affect the people as a whole,  including but not limited to such issues as laws, taxation or handling of growing conflicts. The current rulers are Aarek Lira of Piatz, Shesea Pabrivi of Nagrea, L’idara Deulara of Bylene, Filo Ulesse of Criyne and Lis Ahidaris of Eideyria. The title is passed down to the current occupant’s eldest child when they die, retire or for any other reason is incapable or unwilling to maintain the position. This is assuming they are of the proper age. Though seventeen is the age when one is legally considered an adult, you need to be at least fifteen to sit on the council. A seat can remain empty for up to a maximum of three years before a new duke or duchess will be elected to take the place. If there is no one to inherit the title the council will elect a new duke or duchess to take the place. There has been no need to elect a new member for over a hundred years.

·         Although the five nobles rule together, every five years a chairperson is elected from among them. Whoever is elected serves as the face of Eileria and the council on official matters, but they have very little authority to do anything without first addressing the issue with the council. However, they serve symbolic importance and well-liked chairmen can have a lot of influence over the people. At the start of the Clone Wars Shesea Pabrivi of Nagrea was the chairwoman, replaced shortly thereafter by Aarek Lira of Piatz who then held the seat throughout the war.

·         The current Eierian representative in the Confederacy of Independent systems is Senator Peri Lira.

·         The Eilerian winters are relatively short and mild; usually marked by an upswing in colder winds, shorter days and rain. Snow is a rare occurrence for the coastal cities but the regions around the mountains can on a more regular occasion wake up to snow that has blown down from the mountain ridges.  On occasion harsher winters will swoop in, covering even the coasts in snow. It’s not too common however.

·         The traditional greeting on Artorias is to place the right hand placed flat over the heart and then brought down to the side, palm facing out towards the person you greet. In formal situations this also accompanied by a bow. The bow is done in two different ways, depending on who you are addressing. To someone who is older or of higher status than you the bow is done by carefully shifting the left leg back a little and gently bending the knees.   If you are greeting someone younger or the same age as yourself, of lower or similar social rank, you simply do a gentle lean forward at the waist. All while doing the proper movement of the right hand.

·         The people of Eileria don garments that are comfortable for the hot, dry climate.

·         A past tradition for colors was that which set strict codes for what colours and hues you were allowed to wear depended on your age.  White and near white shades for the very youngest and adolescents who are then gradually introduced to more colours and deeper, darker and more vibrant shades as they grew older. Black was a colour reserved only for the very oldest of the community, only seen on citizens over the age of seventy. This tradition barely holds on, usually only applied for formal events or ceremonies. However, due to the hot climate and often blazing sun, light colours are favoured as everyday wear.

·         During the warm months most wear clothes sewn from fabrics such as silk, Illiaweave and Ceouruwool , made from Ellaria’s natural resources. Other fabrics such as synthetic materials are primarily imported and are used, but not quite as common. The Eilerians take a sense of pride in what they create themselves.

·         Illiaweave is a lightweight, breathable material that protects the skin from the sun and wicks away moisture really well, keeping the body cool without adding bulk and weight.  It is made from the Illiagrass, a waist high plant that grows pretty much all over the planet naturally, but is also grown more controlled by farmers. It’s a strong and durable material, and is suitable for anyone from the noble classes to the working farmers due to its accessibility and the way it can easily be woven thicker for further durability, or so thinly and fine that it’s almost transparent and very delicate. Illiaweave is the most commonly used fabric overall on Eileria.

·         Ceouruwool is a type of fabric made from the fleece of the Ceouru, a horned medium sized mammal who graze the pains and hills of Eileria. The fleece when cleaned, spun and woven creates a dense, warm cloth that repels water and wind very well. Much clothing used for the wet and windy winters of Eileria are made from this material.

·         Jewellery is a common type of accessory. Earrings, bracelets, arm rings and anklets as well as various types of circlets, diadems and headdresses are popular among all classes and sexes. The intricacy of the craftsmanship and value of the materials is what sets them apart. Ribbons woven in spirals or nature inspired patterns and then braided into the hair is a much simpler alternative to an intricate gold chain set with precious stones.

·         Most Eilerians own at least one brooch. It is a very iconic type of accessory for Eilerians, often given as gifts when a child is very young and over the years receives or collects chains, beads, stones or charms to attach to it. It is fairly rare to see an Eilerian wearing necklaces, but in contrast it is very common to see them with a brooch or even a pair that connects with one or more chains or a string of pearls or beads between them across the chest. Though usually decorative, sometimes these brooches serve the function of holding a scarf or a garment in place.

·         The silhouette of the Eilerian fashion is generally defined by draped, gathered, tucked and pleated fabric. Loose robes, dresses, skirts and kaftans, trousers, shirts, jackets and coats often follow similar cuts. Scarves, shawls and wraps to protect the head and face from the sun, or hats and caps also add to the silhouette.

·         Low contrast patterns woven into fabrics are common, as are edgings, trims, embroidery and other decorations, though the lower classes prefer plainer garments for everyday use. Most decorations are heavily inspired by the local flora and fauna, often depicting nature in its various forms. Many of the structures left by The Foregone are also decorated with spirals and wave-like patterns, something the Eilerians have adopted as well.

·         There are no real rules for hair, but just prior to the clone wars shaved undercuts were fashionable. Cutting patterns into it and wearing the rest of your hair short or in an updo to display the undercut was popular. Trimming beards into elegant patters and donning braided hairdos was also very popular.

·         Shoes vary greatly depending on the wearers work, geographical position, social status and the occation. Along the coasts simple sandals or flat shoes are comfortable for everyday wear. Towards the inland and the mountainous regions, boots or spats provide better protection against the elements. For a formal occasion sandals, flat, low or high-heeled shoes are all appropriate options.

·         Prior to the Clone Wars Eileria were already harbouring a dislike for the hypocritical and corrupt senate.  The people of Eileria value peace and diplomacy, honesty and generosity, and they saw only how the republic were carving out the resources of mid and Outer rim worlds to make the core prosper, all while doing nothing to aid those who suffered at the hands of ludicrous taxations, aid refuted or delayed because of vague or overly complicated policies, allowing criminal syndicates, piracy and raiding to roam the edges of the mid rim and the outer rim as they please.

·         Months before the outbreak of the Clone Wars, Eileria had already joined the Confederacy of Independent systems. They did however remain opposed to the fighting throughout the war and promoted peaceful negotiations, provided humanitarian aid and took in refugees whenever possible.

·         All children of Eileria are required to attend school between the age of 5 and 15. After that there are alternatives to enter higher education, apply for stipends to attend universities off world and the like. While the primary education is all paid for by the government, higher education only provided the education itself and some material for the students. Things like lodging and literature need to be paid for by the student. However, even if a citizen had no desire to approach higher education, they were free to attend the many talks, debates, lectures and smaller coursers often provided by the colleges, local libraries and seats of learning for free or a symbolic fee. These could range between a wide array of topics.

·         Eileria is composed primarily of four classes: The nobility – The richest and most influential of the people. The highest members of this class are the rulers of Eileria. They are responsible for providing and protecting the means that makes it possible for the rest of the people to live comfortably and capable of following the values such as peace and education. They are responsible for ensuring the schools are properly maintained, its students fed. It is their job to make sure everyone has a home, that medical facilities are properly functional supplied and off-world trade is properly done. The middle class. The largest of the groups. These are the people living in the cities. Craftsmen, merchants, artisans, teachers, workers, all those who makes Eileria thrive.

·         There exists a worldwide security force, compiled almost entirely of volunteers trained in hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship and piloting.  A small number are located in each larger town and city, conducting both local peacekeeping, being ready for any approaching off-world threats and protect the members of the ruling council. However, they do no longer have an official military. The guard stationed inside the Mos Miara Palace building are known as ----

·         General crime rate is very low. The most common major crime is the unlicensed farming, harvest, processing or selling of the Cetu Seaweed. Breaking the sacred rules of hospitality is also considered a major crime.

·         Only a very small number of blasters are allowed on Eileria and anyone who wants to own one or to bring such a weapon onto the planet must be able to provide a weapons permit. If they don’t have one, they can apply for one at boarder control, but it’s a rather long and tedious process. If they do apply for a permit or can’t show one but still wishes to proceed, their weapon will be confiscated until they leave. Most weapons owned by civilians are stunners and all security force weapons are set to stun by default. Lethal blasters are not easy to come by, what you’ll usually find are either stunners or low-energy types that are usually owned by farmers inland or in the mountains to defend themselves or their cattle from the wildlife.

·         Eileria has two spaceports; the larger and more modern port of Jiamel and the older, smaller one of Mos Miara. It is through the Jiamel spaceport that most of Eileria’s intergalactic trade is done. 

·         Eileria has a thriving agriculture. Vineyards, orchards and fields stretch from the dry, sun-drenched areas of the coasts to the slightly more temperate regions of the inland and mountains.

#;;headcanons #v;A lady of Eileria #;;Eileria

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Classical love story; John Deacon x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so in honor of our beloved goofball Joseph Francis Mazzello III’s birthday I have made a John deacon story that was requested to me on my wattpad. Now you can either read this as the real Disco deacy but in honor of Joey’s bday why don’t we all read it as a Joe mazzello!John deacon story. Sound good everyone? Great.

Now not really much warning except swearing, INSANE AMOUNTS OF FLUFF, a pinch of angst and above all JOHN DEACON CAUSE COME ON HE'S ADORABLE :) Also.....HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JOE MAZZELLO THE ACTOR WHO BROUGHT DEACY TO LIFE ON SCREEN. I bet he was proud of your performance my dino boy :)

Taglist

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@ixchel-9275​

@waddles03​

@geek-and-proud​

@queendeakyy​

@coolcxt​

@mexifangorl​

________________________________________________________

*1971*

I close my eyes and I just let the music take me away.  That’s how I’ve always done it.  As I gracefully played one of my favorite compositions by Beethoven “Bagatelle No. 25” in A Minor.  For as long as I can remember I’ve always just loved classical music, I guess you could say my first introduction to it was when my aunt took me out to see “The Nutcracker” ballet when they were performing at the London theatre.

And when I first heard that opening number and saw just how much music can tell a story without having any dialogue, I dove into all the classical artists.  Got my first piano lessons at the age of seven and got my first scholarship at the Royal Academy of Music.

The headmistress said that with my skills, I had reminded her of another bright young student that she taught long before me, who unfortunately quit the program and the school to pursue a dream of rock and roll.  I graduated with the highest grade in my class and even got Valedictorian after graduating the school.

Now after having graduated back in the Winter three months ago, I’ve been searching for jobs until I could hear back from the most elite orchestra in all of England, The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.

By the end of the song, I opened my eyes and that’s when I heard the phone ring.  I walked over and picked it up and said.

“Hello?”

‘Hope I was disturbing your concentration my darling.’ I smiled and said.

“Freddie, long time no speak.”

‘I know right, we have so much to catch up on. In fact why not we do it tonight?’

“Tonight?”

‘Yes, come down to the pub right by London University.’

“Freddie you know I—don’t do so well in pubs. With the crowds and all.”

‘For someone who wants to be a concert pianist and doesn’t like crowds…..’

“Not like that Fred I mean—the drunkards that associate with pubs. The inappropriate ones.”

‘Well no worries darling, I’ll make sure Mary stands with you the whole time. C’mon please, for all the times I’ve told you about my new band, you have yet to come watch us perform. And I thought you were my Ohana?’

I smiled softly and said.

“I hate it when you use that word against me.”

‘That’s cause I know it works. And wear something cute, but not too slutty. I’ve got a special friend that I know you’ll like. He’s our recent bassist.’

“Wait I thought you already had one?”

‘Had to let him go, he was too much of an arsehole to keep around. But I’ve got a good feeling about the one we just found last week.’

“What time do I have to be ready by?”

‘I’ll have Mary pick you up at around 6. Our performance starts at 8pm.’ I looked at my clock at saw that it was almost 4pm.

“If that works for her.”

‘It totally does darling, ohh I can’t wait to see you. We need to hang out more. You’re always so busy lately.’

“Well what about you Mr. Lead singer. When can I expect that first album you promised me?”

‘Once we are sure the four misfits that we are can connect with the audience fully and eternally throughout the entire show.’

“See you later Freddie.”

‘See you soon darling, mwah.’

“Ciao Freddie.” I hung up the phone.  God that Freddie Bulsara.

Ever since Freddie and his family moved across from me and my family, the two of us have stuck together like glue.  We both had a love for the piano and he’s even kinda helped me come out of my shell a bit.

He’s always there with his arms open for a warm hug, a kiss on the cheek and a shoulder to cry on should the occasion arise. When life got stressful for me, I knew I could count on Freddie no matter what, day or night.

I got showered and dressed as cute as I could according to Freddie.  I went with a basic skirt and blouse along with some boots.  As I was putting on the last touches of my makeup the doorbell rang and I said.

“It’s open!” It opened and soon Mary’s voice called out.

“(Y/n)?”

“In the bathroom Mary I’m just putting the last few touches of my makeup on, fill free to take a seat I’ll be out in just a second.” After applying my lip gloss, I looked myself over before turning off the lights and went over to Mary who was sitting in my living room.

“Wow look at you.”

“Freddie helped picked it out when we went to Biba shortly after meeting you. He said this outfit was made for me.”

“Well he definitely has a sense of style. That’s one of the many things I love about him.”

“Yeah, well we best get going before we’re late. And trust me Freddie will never let us live it down if we’re late for a performance.” She nodded and we both left my flat.  I locked it up and we piled into Mary’s car and soon we drove off towards the pub.

After just being here for an hour, I was already starting to feel a little overwhelmed with how many people had come. Not to say I didn’t deny Freddie and his band weren’t good, but this pub looked practically packed, it was like the maximum capacity had already been filled.

“You doing alright?” Mary asked me.

“I don’t think this pub could be anymore packed than it is.”

“If you want, I can have us go backstage and we can watch the show from there. I’m sure Freddie and the boys won’t mind.”

“No I—I’ll try and toughen it out.” She rubbed my back and soon Freddie along with three other boys came up onto the stage. One that went behind the drums had long blonde hair and he was pretty handsome and easy on the eyes but he wasn’t really my type.

The one with curly hair holding a red guitar seemed like a nice guy, I especially intrigued at the SAVE THE BADGERS wristband that he wore.  But the person that caught my eye as well as make my heart go BOOM was the other guitar player.

He had long brown hair that went down past his shoulders.  He looked to be about my age or maybe a bit younger I don’t know.  But oh was he sure handsome, and—cute at the same time. Is that even possible to be both adorable yet incredibly hot?

“Hello all you beautiful people. Seems I’ve seen a lot of you before, but I do see some new faces which is lovely, thank you all for coming to our show tonight. We’d first like to start off by introducing our new bass player; John Deacon.”  John Deacon, it suits him.  “So all of those who have been with us since the beginning treat him well, if not then I’ll fuck you all over and not in the good way.” Typical Freddie, that was always his go too saying, especially when I first started dating awhile back.

“I think they get the idea Fred, right so we’d like to begin with our first number. It’s called Keep yourself alive, thank you.” The curly haired guitarist said before striking his strings and when I heard that first strum, it was unlike anything I had heard come out of a guitar.

Wow, why didn’t I ever come and see Freddie and his band before? They each had a wonderful sound that I had never heard from a rock band before, not even from the Beatles or even Elton John.

Freddie owned the stage like it was his, and he made sure that everyone in the pub felt included, the guitarist skillfully fingered his guitar with every note, the drummer kept in tempo with the song and I could definitely tell that he was passionate about drumming.

And John…..god why must he be so cute when he bops his head along to the beat of each song that played, or do a little dance step on stage.  And I know this sounds crazy, but I swore I thought John was looking right at me every now and then as he played his bass.  I couldn’t help but blush and look down shyly.

By the end of the show, everyone was clapping and whistling loudly.  I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face and Freddie said in the mic.

“Thank you my lovely darlings, we are Queen. Thank you, goodnight!” The boys then walked off the stage.  Mary grabbed my arm and gestured me to follow her.  We walked out of the pub and into the university corridors before heading out to the back.

“Freddie!” she greeted.

“Hello my love.” Freddie turned and said as he smiled widely at his girlfriend.  The two of them kissed and he picked her up and spun her around making Mary giggle.

“Freddie, Freddie put me down!” she laughed which caused Freddie to chuckle.

“And you, my lovely darling.” Freddie said to me. I smiled and the two of us embraced each other.  He picked me up and swung me side to side.

“You guys were amazing!” I praised. “And you were incredible.”

“Well I had to give my bestest friend a show she’d never forget.”

“So this is the (y/n) you were telling us about?” the curly haired guitarist said.  We turned towards them and Freddie said.

“Yes, my darlings this is my most dearest and closest friend since childhood, (y/n) (l/n).”

“Wait a minute, didn’t you once perform at the London opera house last year?” asked the guitarist.

“Yeah. I was chosen to be the pianist for the live orchestra performance of Figaro.”

“So you—like classical music?” asked the drummer. I nodded. “So—why come here to a rock concert?”

“Rog don’t be a bastard!” hissed the guitarist lowly.  He turned to me and he said, “What Roger was trying to say is that….we thought a classical musician like yourself wouldn’t like Rock and roll.”

“Well while most of the people I perform with always talk bad about rock and roll. I actually find it quite enjoyable. In fact Freddie here got me into David Bowie and I’ve just found rock and roll enjoyable ever since. I just love to hear the sounds of a guitar and if struck the right way, it almost sounds like it’s singing.”

“Wow, so you did notice? Oh where are my manners, I’m Brian May.” He said as he held out his hand and I shook it.  “You know Roger of course.”

“I hope you really didn’t take it offensive love.” Roger said to me.

“None taken. I’ve dealt with Freddie for years and I’ve heard worse taunts and teases from him. You’ve got quite an ear for the drums and—was I going crazy or did I see you tighten your drums after a few of your songs?”

“You actually caught that?”

“Yeah. I—never knew you could do that to a drum.”

“I would be happy to show you sometime if you’d like.”

“Watch it Taylor. Just because you and I are roommates, doesn’t mean you get dibs on my bestie.” Freddie warned as he held me protectively.  “And last but not least, the man I wanted you to meet, our new bassist. Deacy.” Wait I thought his name was John?

“I—actually prefer John.” He muttered.

“No John just sounds so boring, especially after what I saw out of you on stage. So from now on I dub thee Deacy.”

“Well I…..”

“Freddie I think it’s a little early for nicknames.”

“Oh come off it, you know I love giving people new names, right bunny?” I blushed heavily and sneered lowly.

“Why must you call me that in front of people?!”

“Because it’s adorable. Just like you.” He bopped my nose as he said ‘you’. “Right now this calls for a celebration, drinks all around. Roger’s buying tonight my darlings!”

“Oi hold on a second Fred!” As everyone walked off, John and I stayed behind and I shyly looked at him.

God he was even more handsomer up close.  He had a great profile, but the thing that caught my attention were his eyes.  I cant pinpoint what color they were exactly but—they were beautiful.

“Freddie can always be a bit eccentric, I hope he hasn’t scared you away already.”

“Not really. I—I think I’ll stick around. He definitely has a vision for this band.”

“I know already he likes you already. Your bass playing was definitely what they needed. And he’s told me about all the other bass players before who were either so egotistical it made them arseholes, or they just sucked once they got on stage.” John looked at me and the two of us just stared at each other before we smiled shyly.

Wow this was so awkward, why am I like this? Why is my heart beating so fast, I just met John.

“Then I’m glad I went with the audition.” We both smiled at each other then before we could say anything else, Freddie came up and said.

“Oi you two done snogging each other or what?” the two of us heavily blushed and I squeaked out towards him.

“Get your mind out of the gutter you rotter!”

“Then either get your little bums in here or hop in the back of the van, because you two are immediately radiating sexual tension!” I chased after Freddie and he ran off screaming.

*John’s POV*

Is it wrong for me to say that I’m turned on by her strength? I mean Freddie’s told us so much about this friend of his but when I saw her it—it was like everything else in the world vanished except for her.  The second I saw her from up on stage, I almost forgot how to play on stage, but I didn’t want the boys to get pissed at me.

But every now and then throughout the performance, I would look right at her just to admire her beauty.  Now getting to talk to her, she was just so adorable, and the fact that Freddie calls her bunny I could see why he called her that.

Much like a bunny she was adorable with those beautiful (e/c) eyes of hers that just glowed.

I followed behind her and tried to think of a better conversation, god I can’t believe I made a complete ass of myself in front of her.

*My POV*

Throughout the rest of the night, I got to know Freddie’s bandmates better.  Like I was told that Brian is studying astrophysics and that he and his dad both built his guitar from scratch.

“You know Roger’s a dentist.” John told me.

“A dentist?”

“I was never a dentist.” Roger pointed out.

“He’s a dentist.” John teased towards Brian.

“He’s a dentist.” Brian agreed. I giggled softly as I sipped my strawberry margarita.

“So John, what do you study?” I asked.

“I’m still in school over at Chelsey studying electrical engineering.”

“Really?” I asked bewildered. He nodded. “Wow I mean I may be smart but not that smart. Is it hard?”

“Some things are difficult. It’s just a whole bunch of words meshed together as you read them, it’s once you get down to the real hard work that it becomes easier. I’m—actually currently in the process of making my own amp for my bass.”

“Really? That’s incredible.” I said in awe.

“Thank you (y/n).” we both smiled at each other and the two of us had our own private conversation while the others kept talking amongst each other.

I got to really know John extremely well that night.  I learned about his family, how long he had been playing bass, and what type of music he likes to listen to.  I also told him some facts about me, like when I got into classical music, what kind of Rock and roll artists and bands I liked, a bit about my family and my big dream of being in the Philharmonics.

By the end of the night as Freddie offered to drive me home, John piped in and said.

“Actually Freddie, if I could—I could take her home.” Freddie looked at him skeptically but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Are you sure it isn’t for another reason Deacy darling?” he teased.

“No I-I-I was just…..”

“Lay off Freddie! Besides Mary looks like she’s about to pass out. You should get her home before someone else offers.” I said to him gesturing to a drowsy Mary who was leaning against Freddie’s shoulder.

“Alright, but if you guys do the deed tonight just be sure to use protection.”

“Okay we’re going now!” I exclaimed as I stood up and John followed behind me.

We went in John’s car and I told him where to turn in order to get to my flat.

“Again I apologize for Freddie’s bluntness. He just says what he wants and doesn’t think about it.”

“Guess that’s another thing I’ll have to get used to huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I admire him for that. To be honest, I’m kinda jealous that he can speak so freely. All my life I’ve just stayed quiet and let people speak for me.”

“But I have noticed you do have some hidden sass in you. If you don’t mind me pointing that out.”

“I don’t mind.” Sadly we reached my flat and as I turned to get out, he got out of the car as well and came over to open my door. “I hope you also don’t mind if I walk you to your door. Just, to make sure you get there safely in case you’re still a little woozy.”

“Thank you.” I said.  As we walked towards my door, I guess I must’ve been more wasted than I thought because next thing I knew, the tip of my sandal got caught along the curb and I went flying forward but it wasn’t until John caught me in his arms.

I placed my hands on his biceps and—goddamn they were…..something.

“You okay?” he asked me.

“Sorry.”

“For what? Tripping? You had no control of that. But aren’t you glad I came to walk you to your door instead of waiting in the car?”  I hummed a nod.  We soon arrived at my door and I unlocked it.

“Thank you again John. And it was wonderful to meet you. I—hope we can hang out again soon?”

“I’d like that.” He said with such a warm smile, it sent shivers up my spine and made my stress fade away.  He then surprised me by taking a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear.

I felt my heart stop as his finger softly grazed across my temple and the tip of my ear.  I could feel the slight calloused feel of his fingertips, and the two of us stared into each other’s eyes.

“Deacy.” I whispered.  It took a second for me to process that I had called him by the nickname Freddie had given him and I said embarrassedly, “I—I’m sorry John I didn’t mean it, it-it just slipped out. I won’t call you that if you…..”

“Actually it—it has a nice ring when you say it.” I looked up at him surprised.

“Really?”

“Yeah I—I wouldn’t mind if you called me that.” I softly smiled and said.

“Well, thanks again for—for walking me to my door. And it was great to finally meet you.” He took my hand and did another surprising thing.  He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it and he said.

“It was great getting to know you too, bunny.” I blushed at the nickname but it gave me this warm feeling when he said it. I fiddled with my door handle before finally opening it and bid him one final goodnight before slowly closing the door behind me.

I leaned against my door and sighed blissfully as my heart almost felt like it wanted to explode.  He actually kissed my hand! Oh my god he kissed my hand! God I can still feel the tingles from that kiss.  His lips were so soft.

Well I guess there’s no doubting it even though I want to, especially since we just met tonight.  I am infatuated with my best friend’s bass player John Deacon.

Months passed and I began to get really close with John.  In fact the two of us have become practically best friends with each other even though I’m a few years older than him, it didn’t bother us.  But sometimes I do wish we could be more than that, but my damn shyness and introverted attitude just stands in the way.

We’ve already established a good friendship, what if I screw it up by admitting that I love him? I’d lose him. So I kept my feelings for him buried as deep as I could.  And I did find a perfect distraction for that.

You see just three weeks ago the auditions for the Philharmonics finally happened and I had been practicing for so long for years to hope for the chance to perform with them.  They said they would contact me soon with a letter and so every day since the audition I have been pacing with worry.

“If you keep pacing around like that, you’ll create a rut in your home.” Deacy teased.  I stuck my tongue at him and sat down on my couch.

“It’s been three weeks Deacy and there hasn’t been a single letter from them. Why haven’t they reached out to me?”  He set down some tools (my refrigerator has been a bit of the fritz and when I told him about it, he offered to take a look at it and offered to do it for free. So who can say no to that).

“I know you’re stressed (y/n), believe me I know how hard you’ve worked for that audition. I’ve caught you using some of our studio time to practice. You’re incredibly talented, I’ve never seen anyone strike the piano keys that way when it comes to classical music.” I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder and that’s when I saw some mail fall through my mall slot.

We looked to each other and I walked over and gathered up everything.  Gas bill, cable bill, water bill, my monthly magazine prescription, oh my god—From the London Philharmonics.  I tossed the mail aside save for that one letter.

“Is it from them?” he asked.  I spoke not a word but quickly ripped the envelope up and unfolded the letter inside.  I read it over as quick as I could trying to get to the bolded part of whether I got in or not.

My heart at that moment became lead.

“(Y/n)?” I vaguely heard John say.  I collapsed to my knees and John knelt down in front of me. I saw him take the letter that had fallen to the floor and as soon as he read it, he looked at me with sad empathy. “Oh love I’m so sorry. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me but I just felt numb.

Tears formed in my eyes and I let them out one by one.  At first it was just a trickle, then it formed into a soft whimper, until finally I just broke down.  I gripped onto Deacy like he was my lifeline and he not once released me or forced me to separate from him.  Instead he held on tighter and rubbed my back in soothing circles.

I don’t know how long I cried for, must’ve felt like hours till I finally stopped crying and just sniffled against Deacy’s shoulder.  As he rubbed my back, he gently rocked me from side to side in a gentle manner like I was a baby again.

“I’m sorry.” I choked out silently.

“No, you have no reason to be sorry. They are nothing but upper class arseholes. They wouldn’t know a good pianist if it bit them in the balls.” I sobbed out a laugh and sniffled.

“Oh god now I’ve gone and stained your shirt.”

“Oh this old thing don’t worry about it. That’ll wash off. I’m more concerned about you right now.” At hearing that I’ll admit it did make my lead heart feel a bit lighter than it did reading my rejection letter.

“It’s just—I hate you seeing me like this. I don’t like it when people see me cry.” He leaned his forehead against mine and rubbed my arms soothingly.

“Well…..if you don’t want me to see you cry, then maybe I should make you laugh instead.” At hearing him say that, I acted fast.  I stood up as fast as I could and tried to run but he came right up on me and playfully tackled me onto my loveseat and began tickling me along my ribs and sides.

I immediately was taken over by shrieks and laughs.  God why was he such a skilled tickler? Was it because of his years of bass playing? Whatever the case he was a sadistic tickler and he knew it.  Ever since I one night worked myself to complete stress that my back was killing me.

Deacy offered to give me a massage to help put me at ease.  Of course he was shy about the sudden offer he had said but I told him I accepted.  As he began with my shoulders, he lightly stroked across my shoulder blades which kinda tickled and ever since then he’s secretly exploited my weakness whenever it’s just us two together.

“Nohahaha…..Deacy stohahahap!”

“I don’t think I want to. Not until I know for sure you’re happy and forget about that letter.” I kept trying to push him off but he had me pinned right between him and the loveseat.

“Okahahay…..okahahahay! I’m Hahahahahappy! I’m haphahahahppphehehee!!” he then stopped at my request leaving me breathless.  We both looked at each other and he stroked a wild strand away from my face.  My heart was fluttering as he just stared down at me.

“(Y/n)…..”

“(Y/n) my darling! Have you……oh well.” We were both horrified to see not only Freddie standing at my doorway, but also Brian and Roger too. “If you want we can come back later dearies.”

“No! It—it’s not like that at all!” Deacy said as he quickly got off of me and I adjusted myself.

“We—we were just…..” I tried to explain but Roger interrupted.

“No, no, no you don’t need to explain. We’ve had a feeling this was going to happen. Now Bri and Fred owe me 10 quid.”

“Oh my god nothing happened here!” Deacy snapped.

“So what exactly was going on here?” quirked Brian. At that point I grew solemn again.  Deacy turned to me and asked me through his eyes if it was okay.

“I’d gotten a response from the Philharmonics…..”

“You did? Oh darling that’s fantastic!! When do you start performing with them. My darlings this cause for a celebration. Brian get the wine that’s in the car. Rog, her wine glasses are kept on the second top shelf over her oven.” Freddie suddenly jumped to conclusions.

“Freddie stop!” Deacy hissed.  At hearing his tone, all three boys were stunned.  I sighed heavily and I told them.

“I didn’t make it.” At hearing that, Freddie’s eyes widened with horror.

“What the fuck!?”

“(Y/n) we’re—we’re so sorry love.” Brian said as he came over and wrapped an arm around me in a comforting one armed hug.

“How could they not pick you!? You were the only reason why I give classical music a chance. Why would they not pick you!?” shouted Roger.

“Right that’s it. Rog get in the car we’re gonna throw some stones right through the windows of the Philharmonics hall.”

“I’ll drive Fred.”

“Nobody’s going anywhere.” Brian emphasized towards my two hysterical queens.

“Please guys I—I don’t want to even think about this anymore.”

“And we’ll respect that love. Won’t we Fred? Rog?” the two of them whined out exasperated but agreed.

“My darling forget about them. Clearly you were so good, they were threatened by you. You deserve better than them.” Freddie said as he came up and embraced me and rubbed my back.

“Thanks for trying Fred. But—what am I gonna do now? I’ve done all this work for nothing. I mean I knew there would be a slim chance, but after achieving so many scholarships and graduating Valedictorian of my class, it—feels like I’ve done countless of hours of practicing for nothing.”

“You’ll find something (n/n). Until then we’re here for you. Aren’t we darlings?” Freddie said to the boys.

“Absolutely.” Said Brian with a comforting pat.

“Without a doubt. And if you need me to bury some bodies, I’ll happily oblige.” Said Roger.

“Rog.” Lectured Brian.  It was then I felt Deacy’s hand take mine and he gave me a soft smile, telling me his answer.

“You guys are the best group of friends a girl could ask for.” They all huddled around me trapping me in a loving and tender group hug.

*John’s POV*

As I leaned my head against hers, Freddie and Rog weren’t the only ones who wanted to go up to the Philharmonics and raise hell on them.  (Y/n) is so gifted and incredibly talented, that I can’t understand why they wouldn’t take her.

But I knew that’s not what she needed right now, what she needed was us, but I hope she’ll want just me to hold her and assure her of her incredible talent every day for the rest of her life.  

That she’ll make it big one day and she can rub it in the Philharmonics faces that she got famous without them, and that they will forever be known as the group who lost (Y/n) (l/n).

We stayed in her flat and just had a small, casual hangout filled with junk food, take outs, booze, and desserts by the mile. By around nightfall she had passed out on the couch from all the wine she had drank.  Still slightly sober, I stroked the hair out of her face and slowly picked her up without trying to wake her up.

I took her down the hall toward her room and set her down on the bed.  I figured it’d be inappropriate for me to remove her clothing without her consent, so I chose not to do it.  But I tucked her in and prepared her a glass of water as well as found some medicine for her to take come morning for her hangover.

“You have got it bad Deacy dear.” I looked up to see Freddie leaning against her doorway.

“You’re drunk Fred.”

“I may be drunk…..but at least I’m not in denial. Unlike you two.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In all my years of knowing the darling, never have I seen her so invested with you. She’s told me you know. How much she loved you.” Part of me wanted to just think it was Fred messing with me like he always does, that the beer and wine was making him say this.  But then again—there was some hope in me that wanted to think that (y/n) loved me the way I loved her.

I looked down at her and brushed some strands of hair out of her face and couldn’t help but stroke her soft cheek with my thumb.  She stirred tiredly but leaned against my hand and even clung onto my arm.

“Just tell her how you feel and put us all out of our misery. Cause honestly Rog and I are sick and tired of the fucking pining.”

“Why can’t you just keep your busy-body nose out of this?” I said annoyed.

“Fine, but I’m not giving up till you both grow a pair and finally admit your feelings for each other. You’re simply meant to be. You’re her lobster.”

“Go to sleep Fred you’re talking rubbish.”

“Again I may be rubbish, but I’m not in denial.”

“Goodnight Freddie.” I said as I walked up to him and gently shoved him aside so that I could quietly close (y/n)’s bedroom door. I walked back over to her and couldn’t help but stroke her cheek again.

God what I wouldn’t give to fall asleep with her every night, and to wake up to her every morning.  Seeing her first and last part of the day, that would be the perfect heaven for me.  I lay down beside her but I didn’t get under the covers, just so she wouldn’t be freaked out come morning.

I stroked her cheek and she moaned tiredly and what she did next stunned me.  She scooted closer to me till her head was resting over my chest.  I almost wanted to move her but the second her arms wrapped around me, I knew I didn’t want to.  I stroked down her head and whispered to her.

“You’re talented love. And—so beautiful. Goodnight (y/n). I—I love you (y/n).” with a kiss to the crown of her head, I fell asleep holding her in my arms.

*My POV*

It had been about three months since my rejection letter.  Of course I’ll mention the next morning after my ‘cheer up party’ when I woke up to see me sleeping on Deacy, I won’t deny that I was shocked that I had actually forced him to stay with me.  But he assured me that it was alright and that he was happy to provide some comfort to me in my sleep drunk stage.

And I don’t know how he knew about it, but Freddie’s constantly teased me about it.  He says he’s determined to let us see the light and finally admit our feelings to each other, but I think he’s just full with a bunch of bullshit.  

No matter how much I want to admit my feelings, I just have this feeling Deacy won’t reciprocate my feelings.

That was until I received a message from Freddie telling me that he’d like to meet up for lunch as compensation for being a pain these past few months.  Figuring I’d get a free meal out of this, especially since Queen’s first album has been doing good on the charts and they are currently in negotiations with a record label.

I met with Freddie his place only to find that answering the door was Deacy.

“(Y/n) what….what are you….I-I mean not that I’m not happy to see you but…..”

“It’s okay Deacy. Freddie told me that he was willing to make up for his constant harassing of our ‘ordeal’ and buy me lunch. What about you? What brings you here to Fred’s”

“Actually he invited me here for the very same reason.” Oh that son of a bitch! “Think this could be another scheme of his?”

“Quite possibly, you know Freddie.”

“Ahh (y/n) darling you made it! Come on we have a special lunch cooking in the kitchen.” Freddie said as he pulled me into his flat and directed me and Deacy towards a table that was set up like what you would see in a fancy restaurant.

However instead of a white tablecloth it was a white bedsheet, instead of a grand candle set, it was two scented candles from the Yankee candle shop, with a bottle of wine set up.

“Have a seat my darlings.”

“But the table’s set for two.” I said.

“I know.” He grinned.  Deacy and I looked at each other nervously and turned away blushing. Since we were trapped, I took the first step and scooted one of the chairs out.  But before I could scoot my chair back in, Deacy came up and ever the gentleman that he is, scooted my chair in.

“Thanks Deacy.” He smiled bashfully and nodded before taking his seat opposite of me.

“Good afternoon madam and monsieur. I am Roger Taylor and I shall be your sommelier today. No wise cracks please.” He spoke the last part towards Deacy who merely held his hands up in surrender.

“And in the kitchen is chief Brian May preparing a delightful Italian dish for you both.” Freddie said as he set down the wine glasses in front of Deacy and I.

Roger poured us a thing of Sangria wine and they walked towards the kitchen.  I fiddled around with my hands that sat in my lap and Deacy said.

“I can’t believe they would resort to this.” I’ll admit that kinda stung a little. Was he—offended that he had to do this with me? “I—I don’t mean to offend you (y/n), I hope you don’t think that. I’m only referring to this bizarre delusion Freddie is under.”

“Oh yeah it—I mean he can live in his own fantasy world most of the time. Mad as a hatter I used to call him.” Soon Fred came in with a plate of pasta.

“Here we are my darlings.” He set the plate down along with a basket of bread.

“Uhh Fred, there’s only one plate.” Deacy said.

“Oh is there? Silly me. Sorry my dears that was the only clean plate we had. Someone forgot to do the dishes this week.” Freddie said speaking towards Roger.  Roger cut his finger along his throat telling him to shut it. “But I hope you enjoy it either way my lovelies.”

The two of them turned away but that wasn’t until Fred stopped and said.

“Oh silly me, Rog. Mood music please.” Roger grinned and went over to the vinyl record player and turned it on and soon Elton John’s voice began playing.  I blushed heavily and I saw Deacy look at Roger with a deadly look and I think he even flipped them off, but of course Fred and Rog didn’t take it seriously and just walked away.

“I mean…..it’d—be a shame if we just let this pasta go to waste.” He did nod in agreement and we both shyly scooted towards each other and we each took a bite of the pasta.  Oh my god this was soo good! I never knew Bri was such a good cook.

We continued to eat the pasta and occasionally look at each other as the beautiful voice of Elton John continued to echo through the room.  I took a few strands of pasta and put it in my mouth.  However I felt my head slowly drifting right and in a split second I found myself kissing the corner of Deacy’s lips.

My heart sped up and I quickly turned away from him feeling my face burning up like it was on fire.  I was probably redder than a tomato or even an apple at this point.

“I-I-I-I-I’m so sorry Deacy I….I-I didn’t mean to it just sorta….” But I was stopped when I felt Deacy gently cup the side of my face and press his lips to mine.  I was frozen in shock as I felt his soft lips against mine.  He separated but then realized what he had done.

“Oh shit I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that! (Y/n) I-I’d never…..” but I stopped him by kissing him again.

The two of us soon fell under the spell of the kiss as I ran my fingers through his long auburn brown hair and I felt him wrap his arm around my waist pulling me closer toward him.  My brain went fuzzy and all I could focus on was Deacy’s kiss.

It was then Elton’s song Tiny Dancer came through the vinyl and as we separated from each other he asked me.

“Would you care to dance?”

“I—I don’t know how. I’ve got two left feet.”

“I can teach you, better yet I’ll let you stand on my feet.” He stood up and held his hand out to me and he said, “Do you trust me?” I looked up at him and softly whispered as I took his hand.

“Yes.” He helped me stand up and we found an open space in Freddie’s flat.  He slowly wrapped his arm around my waist and kept hold of my hand with the other.  And just as he promised, he allowed me to stand up on his feet.  “You sure I’m not too heavy?”

“You couldn’t be any lighter if you tried. Just keep your eyes locked with mine okay?” I nodded and soon the two of us began swaying.  “(Y/n)….”

“Deacy I—” we both spoke in unison.  I chuckled awkwardly and said. “You go first.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah you spoke up first.”

“(Y/n) I—I haven’t been completely honest with you.” I looked at him confused. “I—I don’t want us to be friends anymore. Because….ever since Freddie brought you to see us on my first night with the band I’ve…..I’ve felt more around you. I—get this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, my heart just—escalates to almost wanting to jump out of my chest.”

“Deacy I…..is it—sad to say that I feel the same way?”

“No not at all.” He said as he tucked a strand of hair away from my face.  I shyly smiled and lowered my head.  He softly chuckled and said. “Now I see why Freddie calls you bunny.”

“Why?”

“I’ve noticed that whenever you turn away all shy, especially when I tuck your hair behind your ear. You nose slightly twitches much like a bunny’s nose.” I groaned embarrassedly and hid into his shoulder.

I heard him chuckle as he wrapped his arms around me and I felt one of his hands stroke down my hair.  I felt him kiss the top of my head and he whispered in my ear.

“Don’t be embarrassed love, it’s cute. Just like you.” I nuzzled further into his embrace and wrapped my arms around him as the two of us continued to sway.  We looked at each other before finally leaning close to each other, our noses softly grazing against one another making me smile before finally our lips touched each other’s.

*Freddie’s POV*

FINALLY!!! About fucking time they admitted it to each other.  I wish I had a camera right now because this was like a scene out of a movie.  The two lovebirds finally admitted their feelings for each other, and sharing that magical long awaited kiss.

I know Deacy will take such good care of my darling (y/n). The two of them were destined to be together, as I said. They’re each other’s lobsters and they’ll always be that way.  

I also look forward to the day they have children so that I can be named godfather and rub it in Roger’s face for the rest of eternity.

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody x reader #bohemian rhapsody imagine #john deacon #john deacon x reader #joe mazzello #joe mazzello!john deacon #joe mazzello!john deacon x reader #freddie mercury x reader #roger taylor #brian may #queen #queen fanfic #queen imagine #queen imagines #queen fanfiction #joe mazzello x reader

[writearctic]

Shades of Blue - oneshot

⚤︎ Minhyuk & female reader

✔︎ fluff, angst with happy ending, (omo he'll turn 27 in Nov.)

⌨︎ 4.3k

hello hello !! this is my 1st angst and i kinda like it (hopefully you do too !!) i made this especially because of his newly released #vogueshow ;)

“Bye Irene!” You hollered as you left work. 

“Bye y/n! You have to let me know how he reacts,” she laughed as you walked away.

“I will!” You waved from your car and drove to your boyfriend’s apartment. Today was his 27th birthday, and you planned to surprise him. Ever since high school, you were convinced everyone needed a surprise birthday party at least once in their life. After brief conversions with Minhyuk about it, you learned he was yet to experience the thrill of someone planning out a surprise party for him. 

For the past 3 weeks, you ordered party supplies- streamers, confetti, a birthday banner- the whole shebang; you were set on making this the best surprise party for him.

06:17pm

You arrived at his apartment and started unloading the packages from the trunk of your car. You climbed the flights of stairs to his apartment door and found Changkyun eating potato chips on the now messy couch.

“Ya, Changkyun. If you want to help with decorations, there are 2 more packages to bring upstairs,” you huffed out as you piled a handful of large packages on the table.

“Hey, all I have to do is be here and text him when you’re finished,” the younger friend remarked. You and Changkyun were very close; in fact, out of the other 5 friends of Minhyuk's, you were closest with Changkyun. Partly because you were roughly the same age, and also because he and Minhyuk were roommates.

“Well, if you’d like to keep being a couch potato, that’s on you. I was merely suggesting a way to burn all those fats.”

At your comeback, Changkyun snorted. “Hon, I’m pure muscle and you know it.”

“If Mr. Muscle wants a slice of the cake I’m making for Min, I suggest you bring the remaining boxes in.” You turned to him and winked.

“Anything for cake- I mean- anything for noona!!!” He blurted as he returned the wink and raced out the door. What a dork, you thought to yourself. You took to the task of unboxing the decorations. Starting with the streamers, you hung them from the living space to the kitchen. The soft greens mixed with the darker ones as you diligently arranged them into an ombre pattern. 

The theme for Minhyuk’s birthday was the jungle. During your first year with him, you gave him the nickname 원숭이 [wonsoongi], or monkey because of his “crazy” love for you. And also because he is super pumped to be with you or do anything with you. He was your little monkey. You even bought a plush monkey as one of his presents.

You were hoping to decorate the living space of his apartment into a mini jungle with blow up, inflatable palm trees, the closest thing to big jungle trees you could find. You began blowing them up while Changkyun emerged through the door. He laughed at you- who was struggling to blow one leaf up. 

“Here. I’ll blow while you get started on this cake you were talking about.” He took the still deflated tree and blew into it.

“Awe~ it seems someone decided to be even more helpful.” You laughed as he shoved you towards the kitchen. “Thank you Changie!” 

Now, you weren’t much of a baker, but you were determined to bake the love of your life a successful cake. You followed the tutorial on YouTube cautiously with occasional help, or rather, taste tests, from Changkyun. While it was baking, you helped Changkyun with the remainder of the decor. You wrapped Minhyuk’s presents- the plush monkey, a new pair of trendy sunglasses, and a paper sketch of your favorite photo you had of Min and you. It was hard to decide between the many selfies you had of each other, but you finally chose the one you took while the both of you laid on your apartment buildings’ roof and watched the fireworks together one fourth of July.

Once the cake was finished, you set it aside to cool while you started to cook dinner. You began making the pasta when you noticed Changkyun fell asleep. Not surprising. I’ll just have to wake him up to help decorate the cake, you thought. Once the pasta was finished, you glazed the egg, pork, and noodles in the sauce. You successfully made, what was in your opinion, a fancy dinner- pasta carbonara. You placed it on the table and smiled.

You turned to look at Changkyun, who by now was drooling in his sleep, and softly wiggled his legs with your foot. “Changkyun.” No reply. “Changkyun.” You shook his legs harder now. “Ya, if you want to help frost and decorate the cake, I’m starting now…” 

He leaped off the couch and strode into the kitchen. “You just want the cake,” you giggled. 

“Well, yeah. I’m taking one, maybe two or possibly three, pieces then inviting myself to Jooheon-hyung’s room. I don’t want to be here when you two are all snuggly and lovey-dovey,” he explained. You nodded and laughed; Changkyun was so considerate to let you and Minhyuk have the evening, or maybe night, together. Despite him being the youngest of the friend group, he seemed so mature at times.

“You keep being cute and mature like that and you’ll have a girlfriend by your side in no time,” you joked.

“Me? Mature? Nah, y/n. It’s called being well-rested. My brain is wide awake and wise now that I've slept.” He smirked, and he placed some frosting on his finger and coyly licked it off.

“We haven’t even started and you’re already eating the frosting!” You screamed as you punched his arm. But to no avail. He added more to his finger and licked it off just the same.

“Noona, I can assure you it’s quite good.” He winked.

“Stop that or we won’t have enough for the cake, Changkyun” you sighed as you took the frosting away from him.

You were starting to feel tired and stressed. This had to be the best party for Minhyuk.

08:02pm

Once the frosting was done, you placed the cake lid over the platter and put it in the refrigerator. The cake turned out better than you planned. The table was perfectly set. You could not be happier with how the decorations turned out. And the food! It looked like something straight out of a chef’s magazine. 

You went to change into the fancy blouse and skirt you hauled over. You combed your hair until it was tamed. You then applied some mascara and a lip tint to your face. When you came out of the bathroom, Changkyun gave you two thumbs up.

“Alright, Changkyun. I’m ready; text him,” you said as confidence filled your tone.

“Ohhh-kay.” He reached for his phone. You heard the send button whoosh in confirmation. “Now, we just wait.”

You couldn’t lie; you were nervous. This was the first time you planned something big for Minhyuk. Of course, there were the times you arranged large social events for work, but this was different. You didn’t need the approval of the customer, your coworkers, or your boss. You need Minhyuk to not just like it but love it. You took a seat on his couch.

You hoped this was enough for him. His name was well known since his dad owned one of the biggest jewelry companies in Seoul. Minhyuk would one day replace his father. All of his friends came from wealthy families actually; the reason the boys didn't live with their families as they simply wanted a sense of freedom from the heavyweights their family title held. Jooheon’s family owned a military factory that focuses on making explosives, machinery, and defense technology for the South Korean Military; Kihyun’s family owned the entire Yoo Mall, and Changkyun was expected to become the CEO of his families’ real estate company. And here you were: a regular girl with a business degree, working at a floral shop and using your online art portfolio to sell pieces of your art. Sure, it was not the career you wanted, but you were focused on paying off your college debt before making bigger- more costly- decisions. You were now laying down on his couch reminiscing one of your favorite memories.

You met Minhyuk at a professional art exhibit you had saved up all your pennies to see. You distinctly remember admiring a blue, monotone painting of a man around your age.

It wasn’t until you took your notepad and pencil out to write down the techniques that you realized a man was standing at your side.

...

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” The stranger began.

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “I really like how the brush strokes are done so diligently. I will never have the patience to make mine look so professional.” You giggled shyly.

“So, you’re an artist too?”

“Oh, yes, but I’m not-” When you turned to face the man to your left, all words fell from your mouth. “You- you’re the- you’re the man in the painting!” 

He let out a low laugh that sent shivers through your body. “Yes, that’s me. I’m Lee Minhyuk; and you are…?”

“Did you paint this?” You quickly asked. 

He smiled. “Me? Goodness no. My friend Son Hyunwoo, or I mean, he goes by Shownu in the art world, he painted this portrait of me.” His smile was so pure and genuine that you couldn’t help but admire his every feature. And the way he spoke with a care, that almost sounded careless, made your head spin. “You never answered me.”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry; I’m L/n y/n.” You gave him your hand and expected him to shake it, but instead, he gripped it gently and brought it to his lips. Oh, how soft they were.

“It’s lovely to meet you, y/n.”

...

Since then, your heart completely fell for Lee Minhyuk. When he escorted you to your car that night, he asked for your number which you so eagerly gave to him. After a month or so of daily texts and countless facetimes, he finally asked you out. It was a dream. No. It was better than a dream. It was a reality. It was real. Your love for him and his love for you- all of it was real. And now, you’ve been dating Minhyuk for over 2 years and he never failed to tell you how important you are to him.

12:26am

The front doorknob rattled. Changkyun quickly got up and raced to the door. The faint laughter outside grew louder and more familiar with every step. He flung the door open and pushed his hyungs out into the hall.

“What the f*ck?” He growled.

“Changkyun? We thought you were busy tonight,” Hyungwon said with a tongue counted in alcohol.

“I was! Where were you Minhyuk?” Changkyun glared sternly at his roommate.

“The guys surprised me; we went to Hoseok’s family club for drinks. Hyungwon texted you about it but said you were busy,” replied Minhyuk. He was curious and a bit concerned at how irritated his roommate was acting.

“I was!” yelled Changkyun. “Did you not see my texts!? I've been asking when you were going to come home!” 

“No; my phone died earlier tonight.” Minhyuk assured Changkyun that he had no intention of ignoring him.

“Why are you so peeved?” asked Jooheon.

“Yeah, chill out Changkyun.” Kihyun mumbled. “It’s Minhyuk-hyung’s birthday. Don’t you think you should calm down?” He turned his cold gaze to the birthday boy.

“It WAS his birthday until about 27 minutes ago!” Changkyun snapped. ”Haven’t you been wondering about y/n?” 

“Yeah, I was,” Minhyuk protested. “That’s why I was trying to get inside MY apartment. To charge my phone.” He waved his dead phone in front of Changkyun, shoved him out of the doorway, and unlocked the door. He opened it; the automatic hall light turned on.

And there it was. 

Your surprise. His surprise. 

He slowly walked further into his apartment not daring to turn on the rest of the lights. He could see enough. Your sleeping form was curled up on his couch. You were still dressed in your blouse and skirt. He looked at you a little while longer, watching your chest rise and fall in rhythm. Your soft lashes fluttered now and then. Your tinted lips were grazed by your tongue just once. Your silhouette was glowing from the warmth of the hall light.

“Oh, sh*t…” Hoseok whispered. Minhyuk turned his eyes to the rest of the room. The streamers that hung from his ceiling. The banner you and Changkyun hung over 5 hours ago. The palm trees. He glanced at the table and saw the ceramic plates and shiny utensils. His gaze lastly shifted to his kitchen island. Your presents sat untouched, unopened.

He walked to you. “Y/n...” he called so softly. Your eyes flashed open.

“Minhyuk! You’re back; happy birth-,” you leaped to Minhyuk. You looked at the stove clock. You turned to Changkyun and everyone else. “-day.” You hesitated. You missed it. You had missed Min’s birthday. Your eyes fell to the floor; you couldn’t look at Minhyuk. You were embarrassed, confused, and most of all, sad.

“Oh! The food!” You rushed to the table, but Changkyun gently grabbed your wrist and sighed.

“I put it away while you were sleeping.” You mouthed an “o” with your mouth. How dare you fall asleep, you mentally cursed yourself.

“Y/n… I’m so sorry.” Minhyuk walked to you and held your hands in his. “I didn’t know you were planning something for me. My phone died and Changkyun said he texted me, but I never got it.” He pleaded. “I’m so sorry, y/n.” 

“It’s ok,” you smiled while trying so hard to hide the sadness and hurt you felt as you shuffled to the front door. You began putting your shoes on. You layered your wool coat over your floral-printed blouse. 

“I should get going. Oh um, there’s cake in the refrigerator,” you faintly said as you took your keys out of your purse. You realized how worried your roommate must be. “Irene must be worried sick that I haven’t come home or texted her that I wouldn’t be.” 

“Y/n, it’s snowing outside,” Hyunwoo whispered.

“That’s right, y/n!” Minhyuk’s face lit up at the opportunity of having you stay longer. “You should spend the night here. I don’t want you to catch a cold-”

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you Minhyuk, but I drove here from work,” you replied. “I’ll get home safe without a cold.” You gave him a sad, soft smile but what broke his heart were the tears that threatened to fall from your delicate eyes.

Don't leave, y/n. Please. I'm sorry. His eyes started to water. 

“I’ll see you soon, Minhyuk,” you sniffed not wanting to let your tears fall. You quickly waved goodbye to the others and mouthed “bye-bye” to them.

The door shut.

The automatic lock locked.

“Wait, y/n-” Minhyuk needed to tell you how sorry he was, but Changkyun and Hoseok held him back. “What is wrong with you? I need to be with her.” He sobbed as trails of tears fell down his round cheeks. "I need y/n…"

“Can’t you see she needs space right now!?” Changkyun’s voice was loud as thunder and clear as lightning. 

“Go see y/n tomorrow,” Hoseok suggested. “You’re sad and angry right now, Minhyuk. I can’t imagine how y/n feels.”

“Minhyuk-hyung…” said Kihyun. All the boys turned to face him; Kihyun was facing the refrigerator with the door wide open. Minhyuk forced himself away from his friends and stomped towards Kihyun. His friend pointed to the cake tray and Minhyuk pulled it out. 

“Oh, yeah,” Changkyun crossed his arms harshly and sat on the couch. “Y/n baked that; she made dinner too.” Minhyuk placed the cake tray on the counter and slowly removed the lid. You rarely baked, and your cooking... well, let's just say, you cooking was a hit or miss situation.

Your cake was shaped into a round cylinder. It was perfectly frosted in white vanilla frosting and the sides were laced with green tufts of frosting. In the middle, you had written: "For my Minhyukie~ 🐒" followed by a drawing of a monkey.

"Minhyuk-hyung, didn't y/n say she's been here since she left the flower shop?" Hyungwon gently asked. Oh, sh*t. She's been here all evening preparing this for me. Minhyuk felt crushed.

"Yeah, y/n's been here since six o'clock," replied Changkyun.

"She didn't eat," confirmed Jooheon as he opened the plastic lid that enclosed your perfect pasta carbonara.

"Nope. She fell asleep waiting for you." Changkyun was still upset with his hyung, and the bitterness in his voice proved it.

I’m going to make it up to her, Minhyuk promised while the tears he’d been fighting earlier finally fell from his lashes as he sobbed. He could no longer hold back his breaking heart. The look on your face when you realized you missed his birthday was haunting his mind. You looked so hurt. So broken. And you were hurt because of him. He didn’t realize that you’d want to spend his birthday with him. Minhyuk was going to make this right. Because he loved you and he knew you loved him.

09:00am

You woke up covered in a cold sweat. Your eyes stung from crying, and your nose still itched from last night. You stood up to take in the clear mess you were; you stared at the full-length mirror in your bedroom. Your cheeks were red and puffy. Your mascara had stained the skin around your eyes. Oh, how you wished you had the energy to remove your makeup last night. But you came back to your apartment, changed into a tank top and shorts, and went straight to sleep. 

You walked out of your room and found Irene cooking oatmeal and toast. 

“I heard you come in last night,” she began. There was a hint of concern in her voice. “You didn’t answer my texts until 12:30. And you came inside 10 minutes after.” She placed a warm bowl of blueberry oatmeal in front of you as you sat at the table.

“I missed it,” you croaked.

“Missed what, y/n?”

“His birthday.”

“Huh? You spent your entire evening preparing for his birthday and you- you missed it?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, well, judging by the smudged mascara on your face, I’m missing something…”

“Why are surprises so important, Irene?” 

“Surprises are a part of life, y/n. They’re like an unexpected earthquake.”

“He came back after midnight. His phone died while he was out clubbing with the guys. That’s why Changkyun never got a hold of him.” Your bottom lip began to quiver as you shoved a spoonful of oats into your mouth.

Irene sat down with a fresh plate of toast and a jar of strawberry preserves in her hand.

“Y/n, you love the whole house, even the crow sitting on it.” You turned to Irene.

“Ugh, Irene. I just woke up, and I can’t really think about your riddles right now.”

“This isn’t a riddle. You love Minhyuk, the house, with every fiber in your body. I’ve seen how happy you get when he’s with you. But, loving Minhyuk also means loving everything that comes with him. His friends, his status, his imperfections, his mistakes, this. Y/n, I know he’s your everything, but can you accept everything that comes with loving him? And y/n, Minhyuk loves you so much; there’s-”

The doorbell rang.

Irene stood up and opened it. You looked out the window, not daring to look at your unexpected yet expected visitor. 

“Y/n, it’s Minhyuk,” whispered Irene as she walked back into your shared apartment to grab her coat, shoes, and keys. “I’ll go out for breakfast. Invite him in when you’re ready, y/n. We both know he’s not going to leave until he at least sees you. And there’s plenty of food here; I’m sure he hasn’t eaten.” You watched as she flung her purse over her shoulder and gripped the door handle. The air outside was bitter and cold which didn’t surprise you since snowfall covered the ground and thickened the air. I can’t leave him standing there.

You quickly rose from the table and rushed into the bathroom to wash the black smudges off your face. After drying your face, you went to the front door. You swung it open, and as expected, Minhyuk was standing nervously outside your door. 

“Hi,” he breathed, his breath visible in the harsh November air.

“Hi.” Your eyes met and looked away. “Irene made toast and oatmeal; you should come in. It’s cold here.” You gestured him inside and he followed your figure through your door. He smiled; before now, he was sure you would ignore him. But seeing how you welcomed him into your apartment told him how you wanted to fix the tension as much as him.

You placed a warm mug of coffee in his hands and sat down to resume eating. He sat down across from you. 

Y/n’s eyes are puffy, Minhyuk silently concluded as your red-shot eyes momentarily met his.

Min has bags under his eyes, you noted realizing he must not have slept well or at all last night. 

For a while, a silent tension was painted between you. You only heard the clinks of eachothers silverware against the bowls. If you could see the color, you were convinced it would be the same shades of blue you admired from his portrait on the night you met him. There were no reddish hues of anger. No purple hints of fear. Just blue; just sadness. 

He spoke first with a gentle tremble to his voice: “Y/n, I’m sorry about last night. It was selfish and rude of me to go out with the boys last night; I should have invited you. I didn’t think you were wanting to spend it with me. I assumed, and it was wrong, y/n.” He hung his head down towards his half-empty bowl of blueberry oatmeal.

“It was a mistake, Min. It’s not your fault. But, thank you for your apology. I am sorry I walked away. I was ashamed that I… well I was ashamed at my own expectations, and I didn’t want you to see how upset I was over a simple mistake. I’ve always wanted to give you a surprise party, but last nights' surprise was not the gift I was planning on giving you.” Your small laugh was followed by a sigh as you regretted the night before.

You stood up to clean your dishes expecting him to continue talking, but he also rose from his seat and followed you with his dishes in hand.

“I brought them.” You turned the faucet on and began rinsing your dishes. “I’ll dry,” he continued after handing you his used dishes and taking a rag into his hands.

“Brought what?” You placed his dishes in the sink and covered the sets of ceramics and silverware in soap.

“Your decorations, food, cake, and your presents. They’re all in my car.” His gaze was focused solely on you as you handed him a bowl to dry. So, he hasn’t slept. It took hours to set up the decor; it must have taken nearly as long to remove them all.

“Did you not like the decorations?” You murmured as your breath hitched. You didn’t want to cry, but your aggressive shove while handing him your glass didn’t go unnoticed.

“No. No, y/n,” Minhyuk’s voice wavered with worry as he took the glass. “I took them down because they kept making me cry.” His eyes shifted to the ground. “I loved your jungle theme. It reminded me of the first time you started calling me ‘monkey.’” He smiled and looked into your eyes again while removing the clean plate and mug from your hands.

“Your cake is amazing, y/n. I didn’t eat it though! I want to eat it with my lovely girlfriend. I haven’t had any of your pasta either. I want to eat it with you.” His fingers laced into yours as you turned off the water. “I haven’t opened your gifts too.” You gave him the silverware, and he obediently dried them.

“I missed your birthday though,” you cooed as your head rested on his shoulder.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate it today, baby.” The utensils chimed as he placed them down. Minhyuk’s arms wrapped around your lower back. Your breath became unsteady, and your tears trickled down your cheeks as Minhyuk held you. He nuzzled his head into your shoulder. Holding your shaking figure made his heart ache. He breathed in your scent trying to fight the urge to cry.

“Min, I’m so sorry. I- I should have planned the surprise better. I- I shouldn’t have been... so selfish thinking you’d spend your birthday only with me. I know the world... doesn’t revolve around me-.”

“No, y/n. You are my world. Without you, I’m not complete. I need you in my life more than anything or anyone. Yesterday was awful and I’m so sorry for not spending any time with you. I know how special surprise birthdays are to you-.”

“Not anymore,” you interpreted. “Not after last night.” You looked up at his watery eyes. “Surprises are unexpected. And I expected too much from surprises.” You giggled; he cupped your face in his soft hands.

“I love you so so much, y/n. You don’t have to surprise me with a party when every day with you is already a surprise.” His thumb slowly wiped every tear away from your face. 

“I love you, Minhyuckie~” You stood on your toes and reached his lips. Oh, how his lips made your heart flutter. 

"I love you, y/n."

#monsta x #kpop fic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop drabbles #requested #vogue korea

[voicesfromthelight]

My Dance Guru Pays Me A  Visit from Spirit

In connection with my post on astral party-crashers, I recently gave an example or two of how Spirit can use social media to let us know they are with us, or convey messages through synchronicity. Last night, I was blessed with a very special instance of this, and would like to share it with you to show how portentous these little nudges from Spirit can be, if we keep our feelers out and our eyes open.

To fully convey the emotional impact of this experience, I will need to frame this story with a little bit about my background.

For many years of my early life, starting around the age of five, I developed an inexplicably intense fascination with Indian and Hindu culture. This was accompanied by a feeling of longing so deep, I felt like I belonged there, and had been born in the wrong place - as if I had been there in a past life, and was still somewhat stuck in that previous identity.

One of the outlets I eventually found for this longing was through studying the classical Indian dance form, Bharata Natyam, starting at the age of eight. I was lucky enough to be instructed by a woman named Indrani Rahman - whom I knew simply as Indrani. The reverence I felt for Indrani cannot be overstated. She was my guru. Her mother, known as Ragini Devi, American by birth, had been one of the pioneers of classical Indian dance in the West, and had also helped to revive the art form in India itself during her lifetime. Years later, I was to learn that Indrani, in addition to being a highly respected dancer, had also been crowned Miss India in 1952, but my childhood self could hardly have been more in awe of her had she been the actual Hindu goddess whose name she bore.

The way in which I parted ways with Indrani left a profound mark on me. Throughout the year that I studied with her, in between dancing, Indrani would hint at the cultural stringencies inherent in the teacher-disciple relationship in classical Indian traditions. The comment that always stayed with me was this: “You know, Emily, in India, if you insult your guru, and they throw you out, you can come back crawling on your hands and knees, and they won’t have you back.” Little did I know what it foreshadowed.

After a year of studying with her in New York City, my mother and I were about to move to Finland. I had one last lesson left. Bharata Natyam is a dance form that incorporates pantomime into its storytelling, and I was in the process of learning a dance about a woman who asks a parrot to deliver a love letter to Kartikeya, son of Shiva and Parvati. At the end of the second-to-last lesson I was to have, my mother, Indrani, and I were on our way out of the dance studio we had been working in, in an elevator. I was anxious to learn the end of the dance we had been working on before leaving, and expressed to my mother how urgently I wanted to learn it. My mother responded something to the effect of “Don’t be too impatient,” and I, with my child’s impetuousness, retorted with something silly along the lines of “Why are you always criticizing me?!”. My mother and I laughed it off. Indrani said nothing.

The next evening, the phone rang. My mother was in the other room, and I picked it up. It was Indrani. In a calm, deliberate tone, she expressed to me how horrified she had been with how disrespectfully I had spoken to my mother the previous night, and unceremoniously announced that she was canceling the last lesson. I was blindsided, and utterly mortified. On my subsequent trips back to the US, Indrani refused to teach me, referring me, through my parents, to a younger teacher (whom I would also come to adore.) We didn’t speak again for almost ten years, and I would break down sobbing every time the subject came up, for years to come. We never spoke of her rejection of me. It was one of the most painful experiences of my childhood. 

The sting eventually dulled, and I drifted away from the world of classical Indian art, but never completely forgot my experiences with Indrani. In all the years I spent moving back and forth between Finland and the U.S, I never lost my first set of ankle bells, which she had brought me from a trip to India during the year I had studied with her. They remained with me, a relic of what felt like a past life in an almost literal sense.

Indrani passed away in 1999.

Dance remained an important part of my life, albeit one that felt like a passionate but unrequited love. I continued studying Bharata Natyam for a total of six years, but when my new teacher, Arundhati, moved back to India, I never found anyone to replace her. I loved ballet, but didn’t have the build of a ballet dancer. I fell into an obsession with Argentine tango at 16, and danced it on and off in an amateur capacity for decades, but always felt a bit like an outsider. I always had my finger in many different kinds of artistic pies, and eventually, it was music and film-making that won out as my main forms of professional, artistic expression.

That is, until last spring.

Last April, I took up Argentine tango again in a serious way, dancing for hours on end, nearly daily, within a matter of weeks of returning to it. Around this time, my usual work in the film industry had become somewhat harder to find than before, and my spirit guides went so far as to straight up ask me if I was sure I was in the right career. Wouldn’t a musical setting be better for me? Working through an emotional healing process after losing a fiancé, I found myself unmotivated to do much else than dance tango and give psychic readings. Things started getting tight, financially, and I eventually asked to be sent a new spirit guide to help me find the right job. The guide presented itself the next day, and my spiritual team informed me that they were cooking up something good.

In July, after a year-long wait, I had a chance to get a reading from one of the best psychic mediums I have ever had the pleasure of working with, Medium Fleur, from Los Angeles. As she looked into my energy field, she expressed concern about my finances, but said that she saw me being offered a job, working in an office environment, part-time, receiving a salary from a corporation, through people who had known me for a while. Having been a freelancer all my life, this seemed like a huge departure from anything I had done before. However, knowing the accuracy of her second sight, I trusted her.

Around mid-September, the following popped up in a channeling session with my spirit guides: “Your professional life is predicted to grow very busy. Everyone will benefit better from your work when you have the energy to give back to the things you love. Don’t grow poor! Desire a job. Give a grand reception in which you teach messages of inspiration to your community." A couple of weeks later, a new friend of mine from the tango community - a professional ballroom dancer and Argentine tango champion - asked me to event-manage a pair of big fundraising galas he was putting together for his non-profit organization, which teaches ballroom dancing to underserved school children around the country. Applying my film-producing skills to the events, I managed to pull off the feat with a week to spare, and the evening was deemed a great success. Seeing the children perform at the galas, and the respect with which they treated each other, inspired by the dance, I was moved to tears of happiness.

A couple of days after the galas, I was rummaging through a bag of items my father had passed on to me during a move to his new apartment. There, I found a small bronze statue I hadn’t looked at for years: A figure of Shiva Nataraja - the Hindu god, Shiva, in his creative form, as Lord of The Dance. We had acquired this statue around the time I had been studying with Indrani, and the very first dance I had learned with her had been “Natanam Adinar” - a dance that brought the image engraved in that statue to life. As much as my spiritual proclivities had changed since that time in my childhood, placing the statue of Shiva Nataraja, Lord of The Dance, near a window, next to my houseplants, felt reassuring, like a small piece of my soul had been reclaimed.

Yesterday, the organization for which I had event-managed the fundraising galas officially hired me on an on-going, part-time basis, to work for them in an administrative capacity. I was thrilled to be offered a job working with friends to further a mission that brought healing to so many young people through the joy of dance. I was also thrilled that both Fleur’s and my guides’ predictions were coming true.

My new boss and I celebrated by dancing a few tangos at an event put on by another friend. I arrived home late at night, tired but content. As I was walking up the stairs to my apartment, my phone suddenly flashed. I looked down, and saw that it was exactly 1:11AM.  I’ve found myself intuitively checking the time at repetitive “angel number” times quite a bit, of late, but this particular one felt more significant than usual. I sent a mental “Hello and thank you!” to my guides.

My feet ached badly from dancing, and I decided I needed to put on a pair of silicone toe-spreaders for the night. I had lost them a week earlier, and had to push myself to muster up the energy to look for them.

Rummaging through a desk drawer in my tiny work room, my eyes were suddenly drawn to something familiar. A lone ankle bell. My gift from Indrani. I had never really noticed it there before, but I felt a strange emotional pull to it. In that moment, I had a fleeting thought: “It still hurts a little bit to think about Indrani, but see, she loved me enough to give me those ankle bells, when I was just a little girl, as a symbol of passing on her tradition, and her dance, to me. Their significance is profound.” I closed the drawer.

A few minutes later, having mercifully located my toe-spreaders on  a night-stand, I climbed into bed, and out of habit, checked Facebook one last time.

And all at once, there it was: Indrani’s beautiful face, smiling at me.

About 40 minutes earlier, Indrani’s son, Ram, whom I have never met in my life, and am not linked up with on social media, had posted a photo of his mother as a young woman, clothed in a white sari, standing next to the illustrious sitar player, Ravi Shankar.  For reasons that were not readily apparent, he had tagged Arundhati, my other teacher, in the photo, which was why I could see it.

I truly feel that Indrani was looking down on me at that moment, letting me know that for all the pain I associated with our parting, she was proud of me for contributing to the world through dance in a positive way. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had lent my guides a hand in putting me on my current path! I also feel that in the afterlife, perhaps in her life review, she may have realized how deep an effect the harshness of her disposition had had on me, and this was her way of showing up for me one more time, as my dance guru again, in a kind of reconciliation. I feel an immense sense of healing from this moment.

Have your departed loved ones ever shown up for you at important moments, communicating through synchronicities? How did it happen? How did you feel? Let me know!

#visitations #spirit communication #spirit guides #guru #bharata natyam #discipleship #spirit #synchrodogs #psychic #mediumship #psychic medium #healing #reconciliation #trauma #past lives #reincarnation

[salfordiansiren]

Interview Questions for Ren Harvieu, God is in the TV ‘In Conversation with…’article

We do like to ask some ‘off-the-wall’ questions, also some slightly tongue-in-cheek and left-field ones not connected to the music business at all. There are also a few multiple questions and I’ve mixed them up a bit so that the subjects keep changing. Many of them are open-ended, giving you the opportunity to be as verbose as you wish.  Please ignore any question you do not wish to answer.

Hi Lauren, my name is David Bentley, I write for a UK-based e-zine God is in the TV (GIITTV).

The objective of this interview, which will be published in GIITTV within a week of receiving your responses, is to introduce you to a new audience in the UK and abroad and to promote your forth on ming album.

The interview will also feature some embedded videos and/or audio unless you ask us not to do that.

There will be an ‘introduction’ to the interview but that will be written after its completion.

Thanks for agreeing to take part.

So, here we go…

 

Hi Lauren, thanks for joining us today. How are you?

I’m in a great mood today thanks. I had foot surgery last week and so I cant leave the house or really move for 6 weeks but I feel strangely calm about the whole thing, I dont mind bein

 

For the benefit of readers who may not be familiar with you, how would you describe yourself as an artist, in a paragraph?

 

 

You have released two singles, ‘Teenage Mascara’ and just now ‘Yes, Please’ from your second album, ‘Revel in the Drama’ which is scheduled for next April and the first one was well received by broadcasting ‘tastemakers’. How does the album differ from the first one, ‘Through the Night?’

 

The difference between Revel In The Drama and Through The Night is that this is a much more personal album. I spent the last couple of years honing my songwriting craft and these lyrics have come straight from my gothic salfordian brain. Its darker, more intense, stranger but still has the beauty of Through The Night. I think both albums sit nicely together.

 

 

Since 2015 you’ve been co-writing with Romeo Stodart of the Magic Numbers and he appeared on stage with you at your recent concerts. Will that relationship continue? Do you prefer to control the songwriting process yourself, or are you content to work with other music or lyric writer(s) into the future? If the latter, who has the final say?

I’ll keep writing with romeo till I die if he wants to. He’s the best of the best, and he understands me. I never really felt understood as an artist till I met him. I feel so comfortable in his presence that I let it allllll out, not just the versions of me t

 

You signed with Universal, a huge corporation, as a 17-year old. Is that too young, or are there any benefits in being ‘bloodied’ in the industry at such a tender age?

I think I was too young, although Universal were great that wasn’t the problem. But there was a lot going on behind the scenes that I was dealing with. I wasn’t a show biz kid from a showbiz family and I had real problems that seemed bigger than singing about about being dumped by some boy. I felt too young and overwhelmed but also too streetwise and smart for it all. It was a confusing time.

They say that everything happens for a reason. In 2011 you suffered a life-changing event, just as your debut album was about to be released, and one which set you back several years. Eight years on do you think the dreadful accident in which you broke your back has had any positive repercussions?

I think there had been positive repercussions,I dont think I would have started writing if it wasn’t for the accident. I dont

 

What attracted you to signing with Bella Union for your new album?

Well

 

Do you have any role models in the music business? A hero or heroine? Anyone you would enjoy being “mentioned in the same breath” with? (Dusty Springfield comes to mind, also perhaps Shirley Bassey).

 

I really admire Fiona apple because she does whatever the hell she wants. And her records are stunning, unique and completely un compromising.

You are compared occasionally with Elkie Brooks (I’ve done it myself!), a different kind of singer perhaps but a highly respected one who hails from the same city, and even the same suburb as you. And she’s still performing, in her seventies. Is there anything you feel you can learn from her and, indeed, are you ever in contact with her?

I dont know Elkie personally but I love her shes a legend. Rising Cost Of Love is my jam!

 

 

You left Salford and relocated to London a while ago. Do you miss it? How did the move impact on your creativity?

I really miss the north, everything about it but I needed to leave because I was really sad and I knew if i didnt do something soon I was going to slip down the back alleyof my mind and maybe disappear forever. I have memories on every street, bus stops make me emotional. Corner shops where me and my friend would try and get booze in our school, theres just memories everywhere and I needed a clean break. To create some distance so I could write about it

When you’re writing, how do most of your songs start life? A piano part? A chord? A melody? Does inspiration simply come, or do you have to seek it?

I feel inspired everyday by everything. When writing a song I like to visualise it, like a film, frame by frame. Sometimes I move around, dance, put on voices. Romeo will play something off the cuff that’s so beautiful that I’ll just start shouting and laughing and hugging him. Its the closest I get to spirituality. Writing wise, I want the narrative to have as much depth as possible, I want to feel something and I feel it is my duty to give the emotion and the stories the respect they deserve. I take it very seriously.

 

Do you see yourself as a live artist, or a recording artist, or both?

I see myself as both. I get to appease the introvert in me by being in the studio and attend to the outrovert by playing live.

 

How would you personally measure ‘success’? By ‘breaking’ America? Or something more modest?

Success to me would mean I get to create and perform music for all time and make a living on it. Success to me would mean that people are touched and moved by my music. I would love to be a voice to someone that can comfort them, just as say Rufus Wainwirght was to me when I was a depressed 14 year old. I’m not doing this just to stroke my own fragile ego, I genuinely want to reach o

 

When I saw your show at the Deaf Institute in Manchester recently, in one song (I think it was ‘Cruel Disguise’), you reached and sustained a note that convinced me and those in my company that you could probably tackle opera singing. Do you have any ambitions to perform in that or any other genre?

I would love to learn opera. I think

 

Back in 2012, while you were recovering, you performed several James Bond film theme tunes with the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra, including ‘You only live twice’ and ‘Nobody does it better’, both of which arguably could be applied to you. Do you picture yourself as a ‘Bond girl’ in the sense of recording the theme to a future movie, or do you even have any acting ambitions to actually play such a role? After all, the new album is constructed so that you can “revel in the drama of my life” as you say. (Incidentally, a female friend of mine – also from Salford – commented that you look like a 1950s Hollywood movie star).

Tell your friend I said thanks a lot! I would love to sing a Bond theme, I feel like it could happe

Acting wise I’m open to it, why not?

 

I saw one of your Christmas Special shows at the Soup Kitchen in Manchester in 2015. During the show you told a story about how a school choirmaster prevented you joining a musical assembly on four occasions for no better reason than that there was something about you that he didn’t like. Your rejoinder to that was “Well, fuck him” and of course you soon went on to release demos on MySpace which were picked up by a local manager and sent on to Amy Winehouse’s producer. The rest is history. A new song, ‘Little Raven’ was written cathartically as one to your younger self when you had no label and didn’t know if it would ever be recorded. What advice would you give to young people who find doors being slammed in their face as that schoolmaster did to you?

If anyone is picking you, school teachers, other kids, parents, anyone i would say to

If schoolmasters are singling you out and picking on you, its probably because your different and they cant stand

 

 

What touring plans do you have to support the release of the new album?

We are organising a tour right now around the UK, quite a big one its really exciting. I also cant wait to tour outside of England, I’ve never done that.

 

If you weren’t a musician what would you be? Do you ever aspire to being ‘something else’ entirely (model, politician, footballer, train driver…?!)

I think I’d try and be a fiction writer. I love books and stories and characters. I heard Donna Tartt say something life ‘as much fun as it is to read a book, writing one is one level deeper’ There’s something about losing myself into another world entirely that really appeals to me.

 

The environment. Whose viewpoint are you closest to? Donald Trump or Greta Thunberg?

 Greta or course.

United or City?

United

 

Coronation Street or EastEnders?

Corrie

 

Thanks again and good luck with the album and your future career.

[dawnasiler]

How to Do Nina Dobrev’s Skincare Routine

Nina Dobrev wants you to know that her skin is NOT flawless.

"I get pimples just like every other Joe Schmoe," the 30-year-old actress, best known for her role on the The Vampire Diaries, admitted to Allure.

But that doesn't mean she won't leave the house bare-faced. 

"I absolutely feel comfortable going out in public and being on social media without makeup," she revealed in an interview with People. "It's real. When I have a lot of makeup on, that's usually work. At home, I just let it breathe. I don't think I was always [this] comfortable with myself, but as I get older, I start to care less. I feel a lot more comfortable in my own skin now."

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With age has also come a newfound dedication to skincare. 

"I think the older I get, the more important it becomes [to take care of my skin]," she told The Cut. "When I was younger, I'd always just fall asleep in my makeup and it wouldn't really have an effect, but nowadays, because of some maturity, knowledge and growth, it's changed." 

Photo: @nina

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Nina's routine includes an array of products from Dr. Barbara Sturm, along with some drugstore favourites and a "magic" light therapy mask.

Ready to see how she keeps her skin clear and glowing? Read on:

Nina’s Morning Skincare Routine

1. Sunscreens:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Sun Drops SPF 50

Dr. Barbara Sturm Sun Drops SPF 50: "Her sunscreen is the only sunscreen I've been able to use that doesn't come out white, and it doesn't get cakey with your foundation."

Chanel UV Essential SPF 50

Chanel UV Essential SPF 50: "It's anti-pollution, broad-spectrum SPF.... Not a single day goes by where this isn't the first thing that I apply to my face upon waking up. I've tried so many different products that, especially when you're wearing makeup right afterwards, it can get thick or it gets sticky or it's really white. I've found that this specific one has the most sheen, it has the most protection, it has 50 SPF in it, which is a lot. And it's light and airy and you can put makeup on seamlessly. It's like a primer, almost."

2. Serum:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Glow Drops

Dr. Barbara Sturm Glow Drops: "These are amazing. I mix them in with my sunscreen and my moisturizer. I don't know what it is that's inside of it, but whatever it is, it really does make your skin glow. I've never gotten more compliments on my skin since I started using that. All of her products are amazing, and I have honestly seen great results."

3. Foundation:

Chanel Ultra Le Teint Velvet Blurring Smooth-Effect Foundation SPF 15

Chanel Ultra Le Teint Velvet Blurring Smooth-Effect Foundation SPF 15: "The next product after my sunscreen and after my Glow Drops is my foundation. We talked about prepping the skin with a glowy, dewy tint, and right after that I also apply this... which I love mainly because it has sunscreen in it already. So even if I for whatever reason forgot to put my sunscreen on that day, I do have a little bit of protection in the foundation. It has full coverage, but it's not super heavy and cakey, and at the same time, they also put powder in it. I am an on-the-go person. I have a dog, I have a busy life. I don't have time to put foundation on and then powder it and do all these steps. In general, I like to keep the skin glowy and fresh and not really wear a lot of makeup. I get red pretty quickly and easily, so I just let it shine through, which I'm told is rosacea, which is not a good thing, but I like it, so I don't wanna treat it. It skips a step."

4. Sunscreen Setting Spray:

Kate Somerville UncompliKated SPF Soft Focus Makeup Setting Spray SPF 50

Kate Somerville UncompliKated SPF Soft Focus Makeup Setting Spray SPF 50: "After my makeup is done, I use Kate Somerville sunscreen setting spray."

Nina’s Nighttime Skincare Routine

1. Makeup Removers:

Simple Kind to Skin Micellar Cleansing Wipes

Simple Kind to Skin Micellar Cleansing Wipes: "One big, main, important thing is to wash your makeup off every night before you go to bed. In order to take my makeup off, the first step is a makeup wipe. I'm told you're supposed to be really light on your skin, especially around the under-eye area, but I don't always practice what I preach."

Simple Kind to Skin Dual Effect Eye Make-Up Remover

Simple Kind to Skin Dual Effect Eye Make-Up Remover: "In order to remove the makeup around the eyes, sometimes I like to use a Q-tip to really get in there, and I typically use an oil-free makeup remover."

2. Cleansers:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Cleanser

Dr. Barbara Sturm Cleanser: "I put two pumps of Dr. Sturm's cleanser, and then I mix that with my exfoliant [the Dr. Barbara Sturm Enzyme Cleanser]."

Dr. Barbara Sturm Enzyme Cleanser

Dr. Barbara Sturm Enzyme Cleanser: "It is an enzyme cleanser, also by Dr. Sturm. You just put it in your hand and you mix it with water. The exfoliant helps really get into the pores and get rid of that dead skin. It also removes the makeup if anything's been left behind that the makeup wipes were not able to get. And then... I use warm water to rinse. Then I pat the face dry."

3. Cleansing Brush:

Clarisonic Mia Smart 3-in-1 Connected Sonic Beauty Device

Clarisonic: "I use Clarisonic. They're great—they really get in there."

4. Serums:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Hyaluronic Serum

Dr. Barbara Sturm Hyaluronic Serum: "I use Dr. Sturm's hyaluronic acid, which allows for all kinds of moisture and water and plumpness to get into the skin."

Dr. Barbara Sturm Super Anti-Aging Serum

Dr. Barbara Sturm Super Anti-Aging Serum: "Sometimes, I mix [the hyaluronic acid] with the Super Anti-Aging Serum. Mainly because it sounds cool.... [I use it] for no reason in particular, just because it saves time and I'm a busy lady."

5. Moisturizers:

La Mer The Moisturizing Soft Cream

La Mer The Moisturizing Soft Cream: "At night specifically, I use a thicker moisturizer like La Mer, and that way you have all night for it to soak in and really work its magic. La Mer is especially special because it was originally created—fun little fact—for burn victims. And it repaired their cells so well when they had third-degree burns that they decided they should probably re-brand and use it as a face cream because it had so many healing properties. This is one that I use a couple times a week and/or before big red carpets when I want that extra dewy glow. And I like to put it under the eyeballs as well."

Dior Prestige La Crème Texture Essentielle

Dior Prestige La Crème Texture Essentielle: "I use Dior Prestige La Crème for my moisturizer."

6. Eye Cream:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Eye Cream

Dr. Barbara Sturm Eye Cream: "I usually use Dr. Sturm under-eye cream at night. Something I've learned from makeup artists is that you should pat the under-eye area as opposed to rubbing it because it saves you from getting wrinkles maybe a few days earlier than you would have otherwise."

7. Lip Balms:

L'Occitane Ultra Rich Lip Balm

L'Occitane Ultra Rich Lip Balm: "Next step is lip moisturizer. This is a L'Occitane en Provence [lip balm], which, if I have to be honest with you, I got this from one of those little travel-sized things on the plane."

Dior Lip Glow Color Reviving Balm

Dior Lip Glow Color Reviving Balm: "I get so dry in the middle of the night that I also have to use lip balm, and I also use Dior's lip balm."

8. Spot Treatment:

La Roche-Posay Effaclar Duo Dual Action Acne Treatment

La Roche-Posay Effaclar Duo Dual Action Acne Treatment: "Now, if I'm having a little bit of an outbreak or a pimple or an uninvited friend that has made my face their home, I consult my friend La Roche-Posay. This is a spot treatment that you only need a very little amount of; it's got retinol in it and you just zap 'em. It's basically like an eviction notice for your face. You tell 'em they gotta go find somewhere else to squat."

Nina’s Skincare Treatments

Vampire Facials:

Dr. Barbara Sturm: "She was introduced to me by a friend of mine who works with her and who has beautiful skin. Dr. Sturm was the first person to come up with the Vampire Facial. I get it, there's a double pun there because I used to be a vampire. [But] it really works. Her Vampire Facials are amazing...."

Radiofrequency Facials:

The Beauty Sandwich

Light Therapy:

Deesse Pro LED Mask

Déesse Pro LED Mask: "Keep in mind I don't use this every day. I use it maybe twice a week and before big red carpets so that I get that nice glow. It is a product that I, weirdly enough, initially saw on Kate Hudson, on her Instagram. I reached out to her and asked her what that was because she looked like Jason, the killer [from the Friday the 13th movies], and I was scared at first. And then she told me what it does and I was very, very excited by it. It makes you look creepy, though. Total Jason vibes. I usually either use Mode 1, which is red light for anti-aging, or I use Mode 5, which is the red light and the blue light combined, which helps with healing. So for example, if you have a pimple like I do, and you happen to have popped it, like I often do—which you shouldn't do—it heals your pimples really fast. Like, you can have an open pimple, put the mask on, and when you take the mask off, it's gone. It's crazy. It's magic."

Spas:

"I'm a bit of a spa-holic, is that a thing? AIRE Spa of New York is my go-to here. In London, the Corinthia Hotel. It's insane, the steam rooms and the saunas and the massages, it's one of the most incredible experiences. In Toronto, just outside of Toronto near Blue Mountain, the Scandinavian Spa. It's an outdoor/indoor spa, so especially if you go in the winter, it's snowing and you're going in the hot tubs, you're going from room to room, and it's huge and really cool. The Korean Spa in Los Angeles. It's not fancy—everyone's naked. I'm a steam-room-aholic as well… I have a steam room and a hot tub." 

Infrared Saunas:

Shape House and Sweatheory: "I don't have an infrared sauna, but I think that's my next step. They're amazing. Shape House in L.A. will wrap you up in infrared, and then Sweatheory is an infrared sauna place in Los Angeles that I go to."

Nina’s Diet, Exercise and Lifestyle

Diet:

"I used to eat three full meals and then I would not be able to move after each meal. I would be so full and tired. Now, I eat all the time but portion control is what's important for me—I'm eating more in total but not more at a time. [My trainer] coached me through it, but basically, I aim to have the size of my thumb in fat, the size of my palm in protein, and then unlimited veggies. I wish I'd learned this in school."

Exercise:

"I just love working out. Doing something different [each day] has been the most fun, and I've seen the most benefit because you shock your system. I need to sweat every single day somehow, even if it's just in the steam room."

Sleep:

"I put more time and energy into the relationship with my bed than I do with any relationship I've ever had in my life. I always have a sleep mask, because if there’s even a crack of light, I'll be up. I also sleep with a sound machine. Sound machines are my secret weapon because they drown out any noise and keep you in this even-keeled environment that's peaceful and chill. Between those two and chamomile tea, those are my tricks."

Attitude:

"I think anyone and everyone, at some point, has maybe not felt like their best self. What I've learned is that life is just a compilation of days where you just try to live life to the fullest and be happy in any way that you can and try to better yourself. Audrey Hepburn has this quote that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that to be very true. Your smile is your best accessory, and I try to wear it every day if I can."

"At the end of the day, you are what makes you beautiful. Your personality, your aura and who you naturally are."

Thanks to Harper's Bazaar, The Cut, Women's Health, Allure, People, Byrdie, The Coveteur and Shape.

Shop Nina’s Skincare Routine

What do you think of Nina's routine? Have you tried anything she uses?

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How to Do Nina Dobrev’s Skincare Routine syndicated from The Skincare Edit

#skincare #beauty #makeup

[drink-n-watch]

  Genre : Action, comedy, supernatural, urban fantasy, science fiction.

Episodes: 12

Studio: Bones

  Being a teenager is hard. Your body does all sorts of crazy things, your hormones go wild. And you’re supposed to figure out who you are through all that? How is that a reasonable plan? And what if there’s a chance that “who you are” is someone very dangerous to everyone around you? But certainly, that couldn’t apply to Mob! If anything, the boy is too soft in every sense of the word. He couldn’t hurt a fly. Even if he somehow manages to summon up the emotional rigour, there’s no way he could catch the fly and still have the strength to do anything else. No, a boy like Mob is not someone to worry about. Not when you have evil spirits, shadowy psychic organizations and smooth-talking con artists to deal with already. What could some quiet, unassuming boy possibly do?

Well, it certainly took me long enough to get to this one. The second season is already out and done before I got my lazy behind to watch the first. There’s no real reason for that. I always knew that I wanted to watch Mob Psycho 100, I just didn’t know why.

get ready to have your mind blown!

I don’t think I’ll shock anyone by saying that Mob Psycho has a very distinctive look. I’m not sure how to describe it. “Sketchy” as in it looks like sketches. The outlines are a little rough. The character models go through wild transformation on a regular basis. The colours are purposefully flat. It’s not at all in line with a lot of the more popular trends in current anime aesthetics.

I loved it. I thought about at least 4 people I could recommend Mob Psycho 100 to on the art alone. But I also know of at least 2 people who refuse to watch the series for the same reason. I guess you have to choose for yourself.

One of the definitive upsides to having more “naive” art and fluid character models is that animation becomes less restricted. There are some crazy physics going on in this show and it’s really fun to watch. One thing I noticed is that while everyone else zooms around the screen, Mob is largely immobile during combat. For a second I thought this might be an animation shortcut but I quickly realized that this goes hand in hand with the running joke (pun intended) of Mob having no physical stamina. Nice little animation character building!

he might need a bit more than encouragement

As the show is unexpectedly character-driven, I was happy to hear such an accomplished cast. I can’t really single any performance out. For me, I would say the strength lies in the undeniable chemistry between characters. The relationships are very important in the narrative and the actors’ performances go a long way toward selling them.

I had heard a lot of vaguely good things about Mob Psycho 100. Mostly personal to the writers. It’s simply a show a lot of people like. However, as I was planning on watching it, I never looked too deeply into why people were enjoying it so much as I didn’t want to spoil myself. That’s probably why I never heard just how smart this show is.

The writing in Mob Psycho is clever and witty. Not just the dialogue mind you. The setups, the visual metaphors and yes, the dialogue, all of them are just..smart. clearly smarter than me. For example, there’s a running gag about Mob accidentally bending the spoon he’s eating with during dinner. His mom exasperated tells him to try and be careful while his dad jovially chimes in that “he’s a teenager, let him bend a few spoons”. I love this joke. It my type of absurdist humour but even if you don’t, I can still use it to illustrate my point. First, it works on many levels. The Yong ones may not register it as a joke at all, older viewers might register the light nonsense, while the others could pick up on the innuendo. It’s like Pixar at it’s best, offering the possibility of being understood and appreciated from multiple angles and therefore by varied audiences.

spoons are a recurring visual metaphor for Ritsu’s insecurities and inability to relate to his brother, often shown in how refections get distorted in the curved surface… 

But it goes beyond just that. These dinner scenes are some of the extremely rare occasions we see Mob’s parents at all, yet we instinctively get so much from them. We know they eat as a family regularly enough for this to be a repeated event, probably just about every day. We know both his parents are comfortable enough with Mob’s powers to either scold him about them or poke fun as if it was no more special than talking with his mouth full. We know his mom is a bit fussy but cares about him and his dad is easy going. We can tell that Mob has a caring and close family which partly explains his crippling fear of accidentally hurting loved ones. We know all this, from one very short , very natural, running gag. Impressive!

Mob Psycho has some masterful exposition free character building. By the middle of the very first episode. Having only seen Reigen and Mob, I already had a pretty good idea who they were and how they related to each other even though I knew almost nothing about them. To me, that was smart writing. And to a lover of character driven shows, it was irresistible!

You may be wondering about my lofty title. You see, while watching the show a few things started to bubble in my brain. There were these themes of growing pains, of having a hero with the mindset of an ordinary guy in extraordinary circumstances, of self imposed isolation through guilt and fear as well as difficult family bonds and disappointing mentor figures. Basically, it really reminded me of Evangelion. I said so on twitter.

Surprisingly only one person was horrified by this statement. But I stand by it. I prefer the subtler approach of Mob Psycho 100 and I will happily point at this show when people tell me quality anime is no longer being made.

Of course comparing Mob Psycho 100 to Neon (grrrr) Genesis Evangelion is rather pointless. Save from the themes and character archetypes, they are drastically different in tone, genre and even message. It’s apples and oranges. In fact when I mentioned Pixar earlier, it wasn’t random. There’s a lot about Mob Psycho that makes you think it’s a kid’s show. A smart one that can easily be enjoyed by adults but still remains accessible to younger audiences. Consequences never get too bloody, villains are fairly uncomplicated evil so far. You always know exactly who to cheer for. Despite all its wit, it stays straightforward in its morality.

But who cares. There are many brilliant works that are written in a way that can be enjoyed by audiences of all ages. That’s part of the brilliance really! And this is one of them.

dimple was a great sarcastic audience surrogate

Favourite character: Reigen

What this anime taught me: When you shave hair it grows back twice as long

One should always be drunk. That’s all that matters…But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk.

Suggested drink: Clairvoyant

Every time Mob performs an exorcism – take a sip

Every time Reigen uses a “special move” – raise your glass

Every time Mob attempts to run – take a sip

Every time we see the super awesome Body Improvement club – cheer!

Every time Mob’s % changes – take a sip

Every time the art style changes – take another sip

Every time Ritsu protects Mob – take a sip

Every time Dimple possesses someone – take a sip

Every time Reigen gives good advice – listen..in stunned silence

Every time we see the Kageyama house – take a sip

Every time we see a spoon – get a snack!

I love Bones’ visuals. They really speak to me. So once again I uploaded a whole bunch of screencaps to Pinterest and Imgur.

    Mob Psycho 100 s1 – The New Guard Genre : Action, comedy, supernatural, urban fantasy, science fiction. Episodes: 12 Studio: Bones Being a teenager is hard.

#action #anime #comedy #sci fi #shonen #super powers

[purplesurveys]

422

Do you enjoy watching birth vlogs? I’ve never watched this particular kind of vlog. I’ve seen photo stories of births on Facebook though and while I find women fucking metal for going through childbirth, I’m rather squeamish and I feel like crying when I see the process :((( Would you rather paint on canvas or wood? I’d...rather not paint at all. I’m really not artistic. What regret keeps coming back to haunt you daily? I have this one class that I regret taking this semester just because there were two available sections, and I still ended up in the section with the shittier professor. It’s a pain in my ass every Wednesday and I can’t wait to give a review for this teacher. Do you miss someone? Always, but I’m on depression break at the moment and I just want to be alone for 7 days. If you could cure yourself of one allergy, what would it be? I don’t have any.

Do you know anyone else with your name? I know two people. When I was still applying for AIESEC, I was surprised that there was a sudden abundance of Robyns haha. There’s never any Robyns anywhere. Have you felt like the main character in a book was you? I’m not a big reader, so no. Which country's flag is your favorite? Nepal just because it went ‘fuck it’ on how flags traditionally should look like. What would you be most afraid of happening if you were to visit Africa? Getting arrested??? I’m down for anything but I can’t get in trouble, because I’m a big fucking baby when it comes to crime lmaooooo. Where are you tempted to move to sometimes? Canada. Have you ever hiked a mountain? Nope, but would love to someday. Who seems like they have the perfect life? People who graduate summa cum laude while juggling multiple orgs and have both a tight-knit family and a love life??? How???????? Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? I have. I still have them on my phone.  I don’t see the point of taking nor keeping them if they just make me upset every time I see them but since I have a photo hoarding problem, I can’t bring myself to get rid of them. Do you think it would be a good idea to post photos of negative moments as well as positive? It’s different for everyone. Some might want to capture their negative times to remind them that they went through it and they’re a stronger person now. Some might prefer to block negative stuff from their mind as soon as they overcome it. I’m the latter. What time zone are you in? Idk how the format is...but I use the Hong Kong one. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? No. ^Why or why not? It’s just something that would make me feel uncomfortable. I don’t even like crying in front of people other than Gab, so even more would I not want something permanent like a photo to capture me crying. Do you like dark blue jeggings or light blue jeggings better? Light blue seems to be the trend recently. What color is the rim of your whiteboard? I don’t own one. Do you have trouble staying organized? I’m generally organized, but there are certain things that I can never seem to maintain, yes; like I can never keep my closet organized. And my school bag. What was the last thing you cried about? I had a short breakdown in the car last Friday because I had to usher for an event and run errands all day while the weather was RIDICULOUSLY humid and I could feel the sweat seeping in my pants for 8 whole hours, and then when Gabie came to visit she didn’t do the one thing I asked her to do. I exploded by the end of the day and gave myself ample time to cry. Funny how the universe works though - in the middle of my episode, the known dogs that roam in my college skipped over to my car. I had some leftover lunch so I fed them and I instantly felt better. Have you ever held a newborn baby? I have, but he started squirming and crying and I almost dropped him onto the ground. I was 9 and I was assigned to watch over the baby. I’ve never held an infant since. Do you know anyone who has twins? Yes. I was surprised to see my classmate from comm research posting photos of her and her twin on Facebook. Would you rather look older or younger than your age? Younger, and that’s how it works so I’m satisfied.  Related story: I went to get my driver’s license renewed a couple of weeks ago. The guy in charge made me fill up a bunch of forms and made me do unnecessary shit in the process (i.e. made me go ACROSS THE MALL to have my ID xeroxed) because he thought I was a student driver and that I was getting my license for the first time. I would have gotten my license SO MUCH QUICKER, but he gave me the process meant for student permits. I was annoyed, but in the end 1) he apologized profusely, and 2) I just took it to mean I look much younger than 21 which I can be happy about. Where do you buy calendars from? I don’t buy calendars because I already have one on my laptop and phone. Do you shop at the dollar store often? We don’t have dollar stores. We don’t even use dollars. What does your name rhyme with? Bitchin’. Are you following in the career path of any family members? As far as I know, no. I think I’m the first to take up journalism. My maternal grandfather’s side are all very...lawyerish and diplomat-ish though, and I guess that’s kind of related to journ and the fact that I’m taking up history, psychology, and political science courses. Have you ever met anyone who talks like a robot? THAT PROF I TALKED ABOUT A FEW QUESTIONS AGO URGH. He’s probably like 25 but I wish he would resign. He’s awful. What is your favorite country in Europe? I don’t have one. Probably one with a lot of history in it. Name something unique about your town. It has a lower and upper part, haha. I’ve never heard anyone else talk about their province and if they live in the lower/upper part of it. Who does all the chores in your home? My mom. She prefers it that way. Do you feel you missed out on a lot as a kid? I believe so. I was exposed to a lot of nasty shit, so while I was pretty privileged and went to a good school, had all the cool toys, and kept up to date with the cool TV shows, I had to grow up earlier than the kids around me. What is your best kept secret (or one big secret you have right now)? Kinda the point of having a secret. Do you have anyone you can tell your secrets to? I know I can trust my friends, but I’m generally most comfortable telling my girlfriend. ^If so, who? ^ Who was that best friend you ever had? If this question was meant to be in past tense, then it would be Sofie. I really, really hope she’s doing well and that she’s happy where she is. Do people appreciate you and accept you for who you are? I hope they do? What color is your laptop? Silver. What class would you like to repeat over again just for fun? Any art studies and history class I’ve taken. I also had this one class where all we did was have oral presentations/monologues, and it was so much fun, even for an introvert. Passed that class like a breeze. It helped that I had an amazing professor who believed in each of us and knew that we all had stories to tell and share. What are five careers you think you'd be good at? Researcher, analyst...anything that entals organization and data, really. Are you thriving in your life right now? We’re all thriving. We all just have our own paces. :) Who do you have moral support from? College friends, Angela, and Gabie. Who encourages you to go after your dreams? There’s this shirt that says “I work hard so my dog can have a better life,” and that pretty much hits the nail on the head. Do you have people in your family who want you dead? Wow. List all the antiques you have in your room. None. What Bratz doll resembles you the most? I’m not sure about resembles because I guarantee you no human being looks like a Bratz doll, but Jade had always resonated with me. She always seemed like the spunkiest one out of the four. Do you have a walk-in closet? No, I’m not really interested in one. What was the last thing you ate? Krispy Kreme doughnut with Nutella filling. What would you do to save money for your wedding? Work my ass off. I absolutely need to have my dream wedding. Have you ever been manipulated, lied to, abused, or controlled? Sure. Are you against plagiarism? ...Aren’t we all?

#survey #surveys

[pisati]

I did write some comments on your post, but that was an initial reaction after one read-through, and of course it was a lot to take in. I went to my guitar lesson, ate a little bit, dicked around for a bit, and read it through again. what’s on my mind is too much for character-limited replies so I figured I’d just write a post.

if you’re serious that the amount of stuff you told me is maybe 10% of all the things her parents did, then... holy shit, dude. it’s hard to imagine anyone growing up with that and not being completely brainwashed. I feel for her daughter too. hopefully once she gets her degree and gets a job she can get away from that bullshit. most people, I think, are reasonably paranoid about the possible threats that come from strangers on the internet, but that’s just extreme. the scottish mafia??? is that even a thing?? I’ve never even. heard of that, lmao. jesus.

I want to say when the internet was in its infancy, a lot of scammers saw it as an opportunity. that’s where the whole Nigerian prince thing and all that came about. first rule of the internet was not to trust anyone. no personal information, to anyone, ever. the thing is, the internet has changed drastically since then. social media has revolutionized the way everyday people use the internet, and very, very many everyday people use it. the chances you’re likely to run into a normal person just like yourself vs. a scam artist today are much, much higher than they were even a decade ago. some people don’t want to accept that things have changed. I mentioned my Brazilian friends on your post; my mom was pretty nervous at first when I told her about them. I met them just before I graduated high school, so I was 17. I actually was on Omegle (which was WAY worse than tumblr or twitter???) and I talked to a kid named Matia. he was a few years younger than me but his english was very good and he was a cool kid. we followed each other on twitter, and then his friends saw and a bunch of them followed me, asking him “quem é essa gringa matia??”-- who’s this foreign girl? they’d talk to me in english about music and ask me what it was like in the US; they were fascinated. they affectionately nicknamed me ‘gringa’; in Brazil it doesn’t have the same negative connotations as it can in Spanish-speaking countries; it literally means ‘foreginer’. I learned Portuguese inadvertently just from reading all the tweets they posted. they’d mess with me and tweet in slang and typo-ed Portuguese so I couldn’t google translate it, but when I learned enough Portuguese and read back on their old tweets, I had a good laugh because it was all stuff like “lol let’s mess with her so she can’t translate it, that’ll be so funny!” and they knew I’d get all frustrated because I didn’t know what it said, lol. like, just pure, innocent interactions between strangers on the internet. I had a ton of fun with it. and Portuguese even ended up being my best language, because I learned it not only in natural, informal contexts (rather than “hello, how are you?”), but I learned it through drunken slang and intentional typos and a whole assload of cursing, lmao.

I was nervous to tell my mom about it; I knew how she’d react. there was no way to tell her about all the jokes and conversations and how all of it was harmless. how I just knew they were real people like me (they were all around my age too). she didn’t want me to study abroad there, when I brought it up, or at least... if I did, she’d rather I’d have picked somewhere in Europe instead. I told her I’d skyped with my friend David, and once I even mailed him a package with an old shirt of mine (because I’d tweeted about how I had this IUP shirt and once I transferred I knew I wasn’t gonna wear it anymore, but I didn’t want to donate it; he said he wanted it and I was like well if you’re serious lol). I skyped another friend Guilherme once because he said he could help with an assignment I had for researching the grammar of non-native speakers of english, or something like that. she warmed up after a while. I think she realized that, hey, most normal people are also on the internet now. and there’s normal people in other countries, lol. but like. people in that generation are from a different era of information-sharing. it’s a totally different perspective. and if you’re the kind of person who worries entirely too much... well, you’ve seen what can happen.

you said it in your other post too (which, first of all, I’m really proud of you for opening up, as painful as I’m sure all this is, and second of all, I’m honored that you’re comfortable enough to share with me)... the thing about sounding ‘weak’ and ‘pathetic’. and... maybe it does feel like that. but given the circumstances? I think reacting like that is perfectly normal. I’m sure you know, but this kind of situation, all the things that happened... none of that is normal. you had a perfectly normal reaction to seriously abnormal events. it’s only natural to want to know why. when you love someone so much and think they love you too, and have your whole perception of the world turned on its head... it’s absolutely devastating. you don’t want to let it go. what else is there? you didn’t picture it vanishing so suddenly, and you feel like that’s it. 

I just want you to know, I don’t see weak or pathetic. I see someone very much like myself. who genuinely cares and feels so intensely and deeply and is sometimes even afraid of being too much. a lot of people don’t understand that we have pure intentions. they don’t understand how we feel because they don’t have that depth. 

anyway, I understand a little better how you feel about it. a lot of it wasn’t her fault; she pretty much had a gun to her head. or, multiple, depending how you want to look at it. she grew up with that bullshit. you said it wasn’t even the first time something like that happened to her. it’s really, really hard to defend yourself or stand up for yourself when that’s what you know. when that’s your family, who is supporting you and your daughter, and threatens to kick you out if you follow your own will. she was playing a losing game. it made me a little sad to read how hard you tried to make it work, when clearly you were being pushed away, but I understand, man. I’ve done the same thing. you want so badly to make it work, you feel like there’s always a way you can. the most devastating part of it all is realizing you can’t. and it can’t be fixed.

the thing that puzzles me, though, and please tell me if I cross a line here. I really don’t want to. I respect your feelings and I understand that your relationship with her lasted a long time; there’s so much packed into that time. I’ve told you a lot of the shitty parts of my relationship with A, and you’ve wondered why I didn’t kick him to the curb; I didn’t tell you about all the good parts there were too. I know how complicated and difficult those things can be. despite how much they hurt you, how they did it, how much more pain you were in because of what they did than anything you could ever do to them... you still care about them. a lot. 

I just... I guess I’m not 100% clear on the purpose she serves in your life at this point. of course you care about her. it’s only natural to, when they’re your best friend. you know so much about them and they know so much about you and you’ve shared so many good things and you just enjoy them as a person. god, I even remember writing some sappy poem or blog post or something about how, even after everything, A could have stabbed me in the gut and I would have apologized for getting my blood on him. but he also did more damage to me than anyone ever has. I realized this past summer (that’s a story for another time) with such sudden, horrible clarity that I burst out sobbing while I was driving home on the highway; what he did was irredeemable. there was nothing he could do to fix it. I had done everything I knew how to do to even stay his friend, and I finally told myself that it was either I continue to pursue this and make myself miserable and make him miserable (because he was allowed to have feelings for whoever he wanted; me getting upset over every new one would hurt him too), or I could just. let go. finally. and that was not a decision I ever wanted to face. I put it off for so long. I told myself there could always be a way to fix it. but it always came down to him putting in the effort. he was my best friend. he knew me better than anyone. a lot of the things you said about M, I’ve said about A. I’ve never been able to be that close to anyone before; he’d seen much more of me than I was comfortable showing anyone else. I didn’t know if I’d be able to be that close to anyone else. making the decision to let go of the one person I was that close to was the hardest thing I had to do this past year, right up there with having to talk to the team from the cremation place not 15 minutes after learning my dad was dead and watching them take him away in a body bag. 

anyway, I guess what I’m getting at is... you can still love her, and still care deeply about her, but also keep her in the past. this is just my conjecture, given that I don’t know anything about your relationship now, but it seems to me like trying to keep her in your life is not beneficial to either of you. I know you said you don’t keep people around based on the purpose they serve in your life, and that’s a good philosophy to have, for sure. I’m not arguing that at all. but I think there’s a lesson to take from Marie Kondo here (ha); when something has served its purpose in your life, you should understand when it’s time to let it go. thank it for all it brought to you, all it did for you, of course; there’s apparently a lot of Shinto traditional beliefs that influenced her organization philosophy that would be really interesting to read about. but anyway I don’t think it just applies to the physical clutter we all accumulate in our homes. we weigh ourselves down with all the things we keep. especially those that don’t ~spark joy~, lol.  if she’s really as brisk with you as you say... do you think she would be bothered if you disappeared as well? 

I know it’s never just that easy. I made that decision, and then later I learned that A had a whole clusterfuck of mental illnesses that he wasn’t even aware he had. it was bad. worse than he thought. but once he finally got into therapy and started journaling his moods, it became more obvious. he realized a lot of how he treated me came from that. when he told me, I felt just a tiny bit of my resolve crumble. how could I drop him like that, when he was clearly struggling and needed something stable? even just a good friend, who was patient and understanding, like I’ve always tried to be? I’m not the only friend he has, of course. he has plenty of people around. I don’t have to go back to trying so hard if I don’t want to, but I also felt like I couldn’t just abandon him. I realized it wasn’t entirely his fault. he still did what he did knowingly, he still knew how it hurt me, but it still wasn’t entirely his fault. I know you’ve seen that in M as well. it’s so complicated, I know.

I’m not trying to convince you of anything. maybe just trying to get you to think about it another way. you’ve got a lot of pain that you’ve buried and try your hardest not to deal with. I’ve done it too. get to it when we get to it, except we hope we never have to. but it makes healing so hard when we don’t address it and subsequently deal with it. I wonder if you think it’s possible to heal the way you hope to and also keep her in your life. I’m sure in some way it is, but I wonder how you picture that possible future. I’m still trying to work that out for myself, with my situation. 

anyway, I really do appreciate you taking the time to help me understand your demons better. and... if it means anything, I don’t see you as broken. even if that’s how you feel. I mean, shit. all of that is enough to break anyone. I’ve never even been in a relationship, let alone had one that got to the marriage-talk, engagement-ring, wedding-dress, baby-name point. for someone that feels as intensely as we do, no less... I can only imagine. I see how the innocence, so to speak, was ripped from your hands. I understand how you feel changed by it. I see the darkness in you that I’ve seen in myself, but I see the light there too. you need to feel safe so that light has time to heal and grow again. 

#and like sorry for talking about myself and my experiences so much LOL #just trying to use examples to illustrate my line of thinking