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ravenya003 · 4 months

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Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Harvest, S01E02

Here we go, the second half of Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s two-part premiere episode, picking up right where the cliff-hanger left off...

Despite having Buffy pinned down in a crypt, Luke is fended off by the cross around her neck. I knew it would come in handy at some point. She rushes outside and saves Willow and Xander, but the vampires manage to drag Jesse away.

Sorry Jesse, but you’re the only character in this scene not to feature in the opening credits, and you know what that means. (Whedon actually wanted to get Eric Balfour included in these credits, just to make his death more of a shock, but there are all sorts of legal issues concerning who gets to be in such things and who doesn’t).

Back at the library, Giles has accepted the presence of Xander and Willow in the Slayer’s inner circle remarkably well, and is filling them in on the show’s mythos. Whedon has commented in the past how surprised he was to get away with the line: “contrary to popular mythology, [this world] did not begin as a paradise,” which is obviously a direct refutation to what the Good Book says, and Giles goes on to describe it as a place where demons roamed the earth – at least until the rise of humans.

We actually learn very little about how/why they left, only that the last demon (or Old One) to leave this reality fed off a human and mixed their blood together, resulting in the first vampire: a human body infected by a demon’s soul.

Again, we don’t exactly learn why the demon did this, though that explanation very much tracks with how vampirism works throughout the course of the entire show. When a person is turned, their body remains but their personality (through their lack of a soul/possession by a demon) is drastically different.

Now vampires drink the blood of humans, occasionally creating more of their kind, waiting for the Old Ones to return.

Okay, I’m going to be a complete nerd about all this, so bear with me. I love trying to parse through rudimentary world-building and pulling questions/possible fanfic scenarios out of it.

If the Earth originally belonged to demons, only to be overcome by humans, does that mean that a war between them took place at some stage? Every decent fantasy story needs a Great Offscreen War in its distant past, right? Think the Battle for the Dawn, the Butlerian Jihad, the War of Power, the War of Wrath, the Great Hyperspace War...

Maybe something similar happened in the Buffyverse: a war for supremacy between demons and humans. Was it the reason the Slayer was created, which (as we find out much later) occurred very early in humanity’s history. Did she have something to do with the demons leaving this reality for a hell dimension, or to wherever they are now?

And who was this unidentified demon that made the very first vampire? And why? It’s not hard to imagine it was intended as a final “fuck you” to humanity if we assume that the demons were forcibly banished from this dimension... but perhaps even as a contingency plan considering this particular band of vampires are trying to bring the Old Ones back by opening the Hellmouth.

In the seven years of this show, none of this ever gets elaborated on. They even move away from the concept that demons are attempting to return to this earthly plane – the Mayor was trying to ascend into a demon, and Glory was trying to get back to her hell dimension by whatever means necessary, though I suppose any attempts (of which there were several) to open the Hellmouth came with the objective of unleashing demons back into the world.

Poor Jesse; he’s completely bewildered by whatever the heck’s going on, even after he’s been “upgraded to bait.” I did, however, appreciate the intelligence of the Master when he points out that the Slayer will come to rescue her friend. No Evil Cannot Comprehend Good, here. This guy is smart enough to understand that heroes are the ones who help other people.

It turns out the Master is trapped in an underground church (more on this later) and I had to chuckle when he mentions his “ascension” out of it. The writers obviously enjoyed that word, as it essentially becomes the Arc Word of season three.

The issue of the existence of a police force within a show that incorporates supernatural elements is raised and just as quickly discarded when Willow suggests calling them, only for Giles to point out that no one will believe their story. Moving on. (That said, I’ll have a LOT to say about how the police – what little we see of them – are portrayed in later episodes/seasons, why they’re such a hassle to deal with in these types of shows, and how they’re connected to the failure of the Initiative as a concept. Stay tuned).

In trying to figure out where Jesse may have been taken, Willow shows off her hacking skills by bringing up a map of Sunnydale’s sewage system – completely illegally of course, making this our first glimpse of Willow demonstrating some hidden depths behind that nerdy exterior.

Then we get a fun deconstruction of Behind the Black. This is a trope in which a character doesn’t notice something obvious because it’s not visible to the camera. It’s usually used when villains need to sneak up on our hero, or for comic effect when a character talks about someone even through they’re standing right there.

In this case, the average viewer will be forgiven for thinking that Luke sneaking up on Buffy at the end of the last episode was a case of Behind the Black. She didn’t notice him until he grabbed her neck because it’s just more dramatic that way. It’s such a prevalent trick that most probably wouldn't have even questioned it.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t just a standard use of this trope, but a plot-point. Buffy thinks about how she was facing the mausoleum door and realizes that Luke came up behind her – which means that the vampires must have doubled-back with Jesse and gone through a secret passage located in the building. Nicely played, Whedon.

Xander wants to go with Buffy and when she shoots him down he commends: “I’m less than a man.” Urgh. I realize that Xander coming to terms with his perceived emasculation in the face of Buffy’s strength is a significant part of his character arc, but in this case it was enough for him to just be disappointed that he can’t help his friend. Make Jesse his motivation, not a desire to protect his manhood.

In my last review I observed that the writers got lucky when they only shot scenes of Angel at night (having not yet decided that he was a vampire), a comment I may have to retract considering he’s clearly standing in sunlight in this next scene. Muted sunlight, but sunlight nonetheless.

And his personality is still so weird. David Boreanaz is playing Angel as that “smarmy know-it-all smartass” character type, not the wounded, broody soul who was so moved by Buffy’s plight that he decided to join the good fight after a single glimpse of her through a window. He actually reminds me of Whistler here.

Buffy says to Angel: “I’ve got a friend down there – or a potential friend. Do you know what it’s like to have a friend?” He’s stumped by this question. Oh Angel, just you wait...

Ah, the Absurdly Spacious Sewer, another classic of the genre.

Back at school in the computer lab, Willow does research for Giles while Cordelia struggles with the assignment. And look – it’s Harmony! At this early stage she’s depicted as a complete airhead (okay, I suppose that never truly changes) and a sycophantic member of Cordelia’s girl-posse (a dynamic that does change – quite profoundly).

Fun fact: if we count this premiere as a single episode (they did originally air together on the same night) then David Boreanaz and Mercedes McNab are the only two actors to appear in the very first episode of Buffy and the very last episode of Angel.

This scene is mostly filler, were it not for the aforementioned introduction of Harmony, and that fact that Willow stands up for Buffy in the face of Cordelia’s malicious gossip. Already she’s starting to grow a backbone and not just scurry away.

Buffy and Xander finds Jesse, and one of them (I forget who) utters that most beloved line of all screenwriters: “we’ve gotta get outta here.” We already know it’s a trap, so it’s no big surprise when vampires start to emerge from the shadows to cut off their escape route – but to this day it’s a considerable gut-punch when Jesse reveals his new vampiric state.

They fend him off with a crucifix and manage to escape through a manhole to the surface. I love the scene when Xander tries to pull Buffy away from the vampire that’s grabbed her ankle, only for the sunlight to burn its skin and drive it back underground.

More filler when the Master hears of Buffy’s escape and pokes out a minion’s eye.

Giles and Willow compare notes, and Willow has come up with some pertinent information: in 1937 there were a rash of murders in Sunnydale that match the profile of vampiric activity, only for them to cease when an earthquake hit the town. When Buffy and Xander return, Giles hypothesizes that sixty years ago the Master tried to open a mystical portal that the Spanish called “Boca del Infierno,” the Mouth of Hell. Or more colloquially, the Hellmouth. His goal: to bring about the apocalypse.

Yay, more mythos! I just love made-up supernatural history.

But I have more questions, because CLEARLY this isn’t the whole story. Obviously, the Master failed in his attempt to open the Hellmouth, because now he’s trapped in a buried church behind a mystical barrier after an earthquake prevented him from going through with his plan. So there’s no way that earthquake was a coincidental natural occurrence. And that invisible barrier is magical, dammit! That means someone had to have put it there.

Surely the Watchers Council would have had records if a Slayer had been involved in all this, so if it wasn’t her, who was behind the Master’s entrapment back in 1937? Honestly, I don’t think Whedon ever had it mapped out; at this stage the point was simply to set up the mechanics and get on with the story at hand. That’s fair enough, but it’s still interesting to ponder these gaps in the history.

Giles has also figured out how the Master plans to escape his prison: by making one of his disciples the Vessel, which will allow him to draw enough strength from the blood that his servant drinks to break through the magic that keeps him trapped underground. We’ve already seen the first stage of this ritual take place: Luke drinks from the Master’s wrist and gets a three-pointed star rendered in blood on his forehead.

Xander realizes that the most obvious locale for the second stage of the ritual to take place is the Bronze, filled with all those fresh young bodies, and the gang heads out as a team for the first time. However, Buffy takes a short detour home to grab some supplies, and Joyce confronts her with the fact Principal Flutie called her to say she’d missed some classes.

Joyce tries her hand at discipline but the moment she’s out of the room Buffy promptly grabs her bag of weapons and slips out the bedroom window. This is kind of cute actually, since Buffy having to sneak out of the house without her mother knowing is a reasonably big part of these early episodes, but not a factor at all in the later ones. (Also, the episode never returns to this development – as far as we know, Joyce never realizes that Buffy left the house).

Vampire!Jesse approaches Cordelia at the Bronze, and she’s immediately struck by his more assertive persona. This is a fascinating first glimpse at the allure of vampires: as a human, Jesse was a complete loser, now all he has to do is stare at Cordelia and she turns to deferential pudding.

Yeah, you can feel the nasty subtext of Whedon’s “nice guys finish last” mentality at work here (especially since Jesse gets Cordelia to dance with him by telling her to shut up) but it’s also consistent with how vampires will be portrayed in episodes to come. In many ways, they serve as an unsubtle allegory for sexual predators: attractive and magnetic on the surface, only to reveal their monstrous true faces when they attack.

I love the slow-motion approach of the vampires to the Bronze, especially with Darla merrily skipping as she leads the way.

Just in case Buffy wasn’t able to notice the symbol etched on Luke’s forehead that identifies him as the Vessel, he helps out by taking the stage and making a speech in which he will not shut up about this fact. Warm bodies are brought to him and he starts to drink, though just before he bites into Cordelia, Buffy makes her presence known.

The rest of the team help the civilians escape, and then it’s Buffy versus Luke, Xander versus Jesse, and Giles versus Darla – at least until Willow comes along and throws the vial of holy water that Buffy gave her into her face. Darla rushes off – screaming in pain, but with the opportunity to return another night.

The same can’t be said for Jesse, who is mocking Xander on his inability to kill him, only to be pushed into Xander’s stake and dusted by a panic-stricken girl rushing to escape the building. It’s a deliberately anti-climactic, killed-in-mid-sentence death that sets the tone for how characters (even the beloved ones) are going to be dispatched across the course of this show. Get used to it.

Buffy distracts Luke by making him believe it’s sunrise and breaking a window behind him, then stakes him as he tries to figure out what’s going on. The other vampires gather round only to flee at this zoom-in:

Oh yeah.

Outside, Angel watches the vampires run for it, and says “she did it – I’ll be damned,” the most serendipitous line since Uncle Owen said “that’s what worries me” to Beru’s “he’s too much like his father” in the first Star Wars movie, well before anyone working on the production knew that Vader would turn out to be Luke’s father. (In this case, the writers had not yet realized that Angel was a vampire himself, and therefore already literally “damned”).

Giles takes off his glasses and cleans them for the first time, and the following day Buffy is bemused to hear Cordelia pass off the situation as gang warfare, while her friend declares: “I wish I’d been there.” Xander expresses his disbelief at how people have rationalized everything, and the phrase "Sunnydale Syndrome" is born – at least in the fandom. I don’t think it’s ever uttered on the show.

Giles is excited about what they might face next (again, I’m mildly astonished that he puts up no protest at all that Willow and Xander are involved in this) and the trio walk off, jabbering nonsense to each other.

The last line is Giles muttering: “the Earth is doomed” and my mind flashforwards to the reiteration of this scene in the show’s very final episode. I take a deep breath. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us, but it’s going to be these three friends who’ll be standing there at the finish line.

Miscellaneous Observations:

Jesse is a perfect example of a Forgotten Fallen Friend, even though he should have been a huge part of the show going forward. And I don’t mean in the sense he should have been spared (though I can also envision an arc in which Xander spends the entirety of the season gearing himself up to killing his former friend) but that he could have been touchstone on the brutal nature of death in this show; a reminder that no one is safe, whatever their proximity to the Core Four.

He should have been the ongoing source of Xander’s hatred for vampires; a sobering reminder that Buffy can’t save everyone; someone who was mentioned frequently as the “first one down.” Did this kid have parents? Was there a funeral? Everything is swept under the rug instead of mined for maximum angst potential.

Apparently there were plans to have Eric Balfour return in season seven as an aspect that the First took in "Conversations with Dead People", though as cool as that could have been, it also had the potential to be completely baffling since – as stated – no one ever speaks about this guy after his death.

And at this point it occurs to me that Buffy essentially comes along and takes Jesse’s place in that particular triad of friends.

For a hot second I considered the possibility that the demon who created the first vampire was meant to be the Master, but no – supplementary material makes it very clear he was once a human called Heinrich Joseph Nest who was turned into a vampire six hundred years ago. And that’s all the background we ever get on him. Makes you wonder who turned him into a vampire all those centuries ago, especially when you consider that he’s the “grandsire” of Darla, Angel, Drusilla and Spike – the four most famous vampires in this entire franchise.

Whedon is quite clever in giving the Master two separate goals, which allows him to be defeated in this episode, while still keeping him around as the season’s Big Bad. The Harvest is designed to free him from the underground church, but the opening of the Hellmouth is something else entirely, and won’t be attempted until the final episode. Nicely done.

Towards the end, we get the vague implication that killing a Slayer is considered a great trophy for vampires, and that her blood is particularly powerful. These hints will certainly become more explicit plot-points later on in the show.

A quick theory on how crucifixes work on this show: they’re regularly used to ward off vampires, even when used by people who aren’t affiliated with Christianity. In fact, the concept of Christ and Christianity is never explored – or even discussed – in any detail at any point during the show’s run.

This is unsurprising given Joss Whedon’s lack of faith, and I can only assume he simply felt obliged to keep that specific bit of vampire lore in. I’ve always supposed that in this context the crucifixes work a bit like metaphysical negatively-charged magnets in how they can deflect vamps. They symbolize the fact that many people believe Christ died and came back to life by the grace of God as a living, breathing human being. Vampires on the other hand, die and come back to life as members of the undead; soulless and filled with demon blood. The same process, but fundamentally different. As such, a crucifix repels them because they symbolize the complete inversion of what they went through.

Or something, I don’t know.

Best Shot: This wide shot of Buffy and Xander on the ground, having just escaped the sewer system:

Best Line: Giles telling Xander: “Jesse is dead. You have to remember that if you see him. You’re not looking at your friend, you’re looking at the thing that killed him.”

Most Random Scene: This surfer dude who pops up out of nowhere and the fact that Cordelia seems friendly with him:

Best Subversion: Even if you had Jesse pegged for death, you probably didn’t see his accidentally-get-pushed-into-Xander’s-stake real death coming.

Death Toll: Jesse as a human, and then Jesse as a vampire. The bouncer at the Bronze, and another clubber. Two vampires at the Bronze. Luke.

Grand Total: Four civilians, five villains.

#buffy the vampire slayer #rav's watching log #rav's buffy rewatch #buffy season one

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adamwatchesmovies · 2 years

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Hocus Pocus 2 (2022)

Although I wouldn't call Hocus Pocus a great film, you can see its appeal. Released nearly thirty years later on Disney+, Hocus Pocus 2 is made for the people who have turned the original into a cult classic. Unfortunately, the film banks heavily on you wanting "more" so desperately that you'll overlook the overwhelming lack of effort in this follow-up.

Twenty-nine years after the Sanderson sisters were first resurrected, aspiring witches Becca and Izzy (Whitney Peaks and Belissa Escobedo) bring Winifred, Mary and Sarah Sanderson (Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker and Kathy Najimy) back from the grave once more. Determined to cast a spell that will make them all-powerful so they can remain alive past the upcoming sunrise, the three spellcasters go after Becca and Izzy’s estranged friend Cassie (Lilia Buckingham) - a descendant of the witches’ old enemy.

Don’t be fooled. Hocus Pocus 2 is almost a beat-for-beat repeat of the first. The witches are just as dimwitted and flabbergasted by modern technology as ever as they try their best to brew a potion that will spell doom for the town of Salem. More than that, the film repeats/updates numerous gags and scenes. Winifred once again finds herself on a stage so she can perform I Put a Spell on You and the zombie Billy Butcherson (this time played by Doug Jones) is brought back for no reason other than he was in the first movie. Several gags are repeated, though the one where the sisters once again find themselves without brooms and grab modern cleaning tools instead has a clever payoff, as do the witches confusing beauty products for potions. I wish writers David Kirschner, Blake Harris and Jen D’Angelo had found a way to bring back the talking cat - my favorite part of the original movie.

Hocus Pocus 2 knows the witches have become sort of icons. It tries to soften them up so we’ll sympathize with them, maybe even cheer for the ladies to stay alive past Halloween night… despite them clearly being evil. The picture’s first scene is set in 1653 and has the sisters running away from Reverend Traske (Tony Hale, who also plays his descendent in the present) so they can stick together. With the film’s strong theme of sisterhood, we’re supposed to see this whole magic thing as empowering for women… but that concept falls apart when you scrutinize it even a little. The Sanderson sisters and other witches murder and eat children so they can stay young and beautiful. Their book of spells is made of human flesh and was given to Winifred by the Devil - or it was until they retconned it in this movie via a clumsy scene early on. Regardless, we know they worship Satan and since magic is real, we can assume Hell is too… which means that harsh Reverend at the beginning of the movie? He was probably right to do what he did. I’m sure Emily Binx’s family thinks so, anyway.

Nitpicks aside, there is something to be said about giving your target audience what it wants. For die-hard fans who've been wanting a Hocus Pocus 2 since 1993 of course this will satisfy. I'd argue ANYTHING would. For everyone else, there’s little here. Being made nearly 30 years after the first, there’s a certain something-something missing. The film isn’t trying hard and a diverse cast, along with committed performances from the three witches (who are the leads - sorry Whitney Peak and Belissa Escobedo) doesn’t make up for it. This Halloween comedy is rarely funny, and even less frequently original. A sequel hinted is teased after the credits, however, so stick around for that if you like. (October 29, 2022)

#Hocus Pocus 2 #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Anne Fletcher #Jen D'Angelo #Bette Midler #Sarah jessica Parker #Kathy Najimy #Sam Richardson #Doug Jones #Whitney Peak #Belissa Escobedo #Tony Hale #Hannah Waddingham #2022 films #2022 movies

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers. But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules. Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

- All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

part 2

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becomingbts · 3 years

Text

Time heals (sometimes) - Teaser 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights and the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

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Warnings: The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: I was thinking of “Moonchild” and for some reasons, some memories I’d prefer to have forgotten came back to my mind and instead of making a full-blown panic attack like I used to, I thought that it would make a great plot if I mingled that with a soulmate and idol verse and that’s how I started going into it. This is going to be loaded with personal experiences, even if they’ll probably be a bit differently explained compared to what I experienced. Despite the heavy themes and many warnings, I hope you guys will like it. I think I really needed to write it. It will be a semisocial media AU!, because I like the idea of being to write some of their conversations through texts. However, I do plan on fully writing most of it. Though, you’ll have some updates about their social medias as I will update their profiles soon after you see this. I will probably mix a lot of different media for this story such as songs written and produced by myself. I’ll upload for real MC’s EP. So expect a lot for this story. Please take well care, feedback is always very warmly welcomed, it helps me to write for real. If you need to talk to someone, my dms are always opened and if you really don’t feel well, please call urgency numbers.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

"And we will close our night show with the most awaited segment! The audience jumped during the commercial break, it's amazing how many people just joined us! Welcome to our interview segment and especially, welcome and thank you so much for being with us Moon!”

"Of course, thank you for having me on your radio show."

"Thank you for coming! I have to mention that this is your very first interview with another media than your usual personal platforms like Vlive, YouTube, or Instagram, so we are honored to be the first ones to greet you! Do you plan on making more activities outside your personal schedule for the promotion of your new album?"

"If I may be honest, not really. I'm the most comfortable in my own safe zone and I tend to try not to get out of it too often. It might close some doors to me but I'm comfortable with my fans that way. However, I often listen to this radio show and a lot of my fans were enthusiastic about that so I thought: why not."

"Ah, thank you so much, it means a lot! Your fans are indeed a strong community and they support you whether you go to TV shows or not. Besides, you've been a very active artist on social media and your whole career started on YouTube and SoundCloud before you signed to your current agency. We have to congratulate you on your journey! It's barely been two years but here you are, with your second EP 'People'! Congratulations on the release!"

"Thank you very much."

“For our listeners who might not know who Moon is, I’m going to introduce her to you: Moon, your real name is (Y/N), you were born on August 4th, 1998, Incheon and your mother was American so you pursued your studies in America. You have been taking online classes since the start of your career at the HULT, university of Florida, and even recently got your Business Bachelor, now aiming for a Ph.D. You started your journey on Youtube, uploading covers and vlogs until you finally started producing your own songs, releasing them on Soundcloud. You started gaining a lot of followers; thus, you started on other social media such as Twitter or Instagram. One year ago, you release your first EP called ‘BALANCE’ which is the reason why the music label BigHit reached to you and asked you if you wanted to sign with them. Did I get everything right?”

“You are. It feels like you know my life better than I do.”

"Ah not at all, but thank you, I am glad that I didn’t say something wrong! Would you mind sharing the concept of this EP? Many of your fans probably already know but maybe some of our daily listeners might not!"

"Of course. As you said, 'People' is my second EP, yet the first to be studio recorded. Signing with BigHit is a big step in my career and it created a lot of changes, hence I decided to focus on the people I have met, stayed with, became close to, or detached myself from… This is dedicated to the people who changed my life, whether they intended to or not. It could be interpreted as my social life diary in a way."

"I see, many of your fans have said that the album held a very distinct duality, with a bright and a much darker side that made quite the storm on social media. ‘Y/N our Moon’ and ‘MOONISBACK’ trended for a few nights on Twitter. Do you have anything you'd like to say about that?"

"I guess it was a surprise because this mini-album is really raw and uncensored. I didn't try to sugarcoat it nor to romanticize my experiences. I hope it brings comfort to people who haven't been feeling well. Because I think that it’s always easy to say that it's going to be okay to someone who’s not feeling well. Everything doesn’t suddenly become okay. And it's fine to be hurting, you can learn to live with this pain and move on while still hoping for better days. There is no end to hopes, and this is why my EP has a brighter side to it. Not everything is always a vast cold ocean. Sometimes, there are small or big waves that come crashing into our universe and they form something that we couldn't have imagined. They bring a little piece of sunshine in life and it helps to move on. So I hope that people who are struggling know that, despite how insignificant I might be, there is a person that understands and can relate to their struggles. I hope it can comfort them, even just slightly, to know that they are not alone."

"That's a beautiful way to put it."

"Ah, thank you."

"I have to ask because I'm really curious and I’m definitely not the only one: a lot of your fans have been theorizing about who could your title track ‘TIME’ be about? I have to ask you on the behalf of everyone. Is it okay for me to break the mystery?"

"Time is a track that shouldn’t have made it to the EP. It’s a bit like a fit of personal anger that I didn’t know I needed to let out.”

“Your anger was definitely heard and understood. People have been curious about the addressee of the song especially because of the line ‘maybe it’s time I finally let go of you’. So can you tell us who is it about?”

“Uh...Time was written for my seven soulmates who rejected me years ago."

"Seven!?"

"Yeah, it's a lot I know.”

“Is that why you have covered your soul mark with this tattoo on your arm? Netizens talked about it a lot; normally idols tend to cover their arm from the public eyes to avoid for their soulmates’ names to be known, but instead, you were proudly showing your tattooed arm, fully covering what might be under the ink. Many people assumed that it meant that you didn’t have a soulmate at all.”

“Well, I decided to cover the mark because there was no reason for me to keep it without hurting myself. I decided that I have been hurt enough to let myself take a rest. I didn’t see the point in hiding my arm either, I’m proud of my tattoo, I mean; it’s really a beautiful piece in my opinion. But to answer the assumptions, I don’t consider that I have soulmates anymore, hence why the tattoo as well."

"This is really a heartbreaking story, it must have been extremely hard. Breaking a soul bond is immensely dangerous, my link with my husband already itches when I spend the day away from him, so seven soul bonds? It must have been terrible."

"It was, but the most important is where I am now. I'm not lingering on that anymore because they made their choices and I thus made mine. I just hope that they all are healthy and happy where they are."

"I have to say I'm really impressed (Y/N)-shi, you really have a delicate and caring soul. I probably wouldn't be able to have such soft words about your soulmates had I been in your shoes."

"I think living the actual experience made me reflect on myself a lot. I'm comfortable where I am now, I'm able to do music and make what I love. I have nothing to complain about, I'm surrounded by lovely and supportive fans, I have the best manager I could have ever hoped for and a warm and healthy family. I don't need more on my side."

"I'm glad you are happy then. Many of your fans have pointed out it's really hard to make you smile and some wonder if you are happy, especially after the release of ‘TIME’, I don’t blame some of your fans for being worried."

"Ahhh, is smiling the only way to prove that we are happy? I believe my words are usually a bit more impactful than my facial expressions. I have to admit that I don't often smile, it's not a bad thing, at least I don't think so, but I just don't feel the need to smile when I don’t feel like it. Besides, I get shy easily when I expose my emotions too much."

"It's hard to imagine you being shy but at the same time now that I have you in front of me, our listeners cannot see you, but I definitely feel that you have a very shy and reserved aura despite the energy you give off when you are on stage. It’s not unfriendly either, but you’re just very soft-spoken and quiet in everything you do. Like when you came in, I barely heard you entering at all; you’re just silently making your way without a fuss, it’s really endearing, to be honest."

"Ah... I’ve been told that my stage persona and the ‘me’ in real life were two different entities but I don’t really think it’s true. I'm extremely introverted and it doesn't really mix well with the stage. So I just put it on the side for the people who came to see me and deserve to see more than a 24 years old woman who has troubles speaking without stuttering in front of other people."

"You stutter when you have to speak in front of other people?"

"Sometimes it happens when I’m nervous, and I’m very often nervous. Like right now, I’m extremely nervous. But it's something I'm working on."

"Well it's definitely paying off because I couldn't sense that you were nervous at all, just very calm and soft, but I wouldn’t be able to imagine you being nervous enough to stutter."

"A lot of artists actually have stage fright, most of them just don't want to admit it because it doesn't sound sexy when you tell your fans you're actually shaking before going up there for the show."

"This is very true, but it's refreshing to hear it from someone who actually lives through that rather than fan theories."

"That's understandable."

"Our time is coming to the end, do you have anything you would like to add before we sadly get our mics taken away?"

"Oh uhm, everyone, my new mini-album 'People' came out very recently and yet it already received a lot of love so I want to thank you for that. This EP was a very personal project and I was worried about how it would be welcomed but you all made me realize that I have nothing to fear because we'll always find someone who can relate to our stories. As long as I can help even one person with my songs, then it's enough for me. Thank you for listening to me and my voice. I hope we'll be able to meet soon. Love you my fans and non-fans as well, please take well care of yourselves in those times. Be careful and stay safe. Wear your mask!"

“Thank you so much Moon for being with us tonight. Our time was short but I really enjoyed it, I hope our listeners were able to feel that very warm presence of yours through the mic. ‘Give Me A Song’ of Moon’s EP ‘People’ will now be playing and we will see each other tomorrow night with IU for the release of her new album LILAC. Take care!”

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Uploaded : 08/04/2021

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matildashoney · 3 years

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Concept: you and Harry are exes and have to attend a wedding together (my song inspo is I Almost Do, but ofc you can take it anywhere you want!!)

Harry knew they would see each other again. It was inevitable, wasn't it?

Harry knew from the moment they decided to part ways that dreaded night that he would see her again, that this wouldn't be the end. He assumed that they would keep in contact, that she would reach out to him to let her know of the promotion that she received at her company, or maybe to congratulate him on the new single.

Harry did reach out, sort of, through their mutual friend, the one that’s getting married, the wedding that they’ll both be in attendance of. They kind of have to be, as part of the bridal party. Harry asked how she was doing over brunch, and their mutual friend – Molly is her name – said that she was doing well. This made Harry quiet, unsure of where to go. It’s not that he was expecting her to be doing poorly, he didn’t want that for her, especially not because he was still in love with her, but there was a part of him that was hoping she was even the tiniest bit as miserable as he was. That’s the selfish part of him, the one part she always complained about. That’s the reason they split, in the end. Harry was a bit selfish, is a bit selfish, and she wasn’t willing to give up her life for the touring and the music and the craziness that surrounded him.

YN’s whole life, all she wanted was to be an engineer.

YN used to tell her mother and father, “I want to build bridges and skyscrapers and all the things!” and when she was old enough to go to school and pursue her passions, that’s exactly what she was doing. Little did she know that she would start building stages for some of the biggest recording acts known to the music industry. Her career took her across the world, from Sydney to Tokyo to London, and she fell in love with what she was doing, even if she started at it by mistake. Her best friends were met through the industry, people that she fell in love with, people she grew to care for deeply and never wished to be parted from in her life.

Harry Styles is one of those people.

Immediately, Harry and YN hit it off, talking about their experiences in the music industry, the concerts they’ve seen, the stages they’ve loved and hated. They bonded over their love for artists and the way that music is unique to everyone, and how everyone’s muse is a little bit different. YN wasn’t nosey or prying into his personal life, and to be honest, she couldn’t care less. Harry was simply Harry in those moments in the office, not Harry Styles, the pop sensation. That’s how she saw him. That’s how she always saw him, even at the end of everything.

YN knew what she wanted and demanded it gets done. Harry liked that. He made that much very clear. She was pretty much expecting it when Harry asked her out for the first time. Harry asked her on their first date the night she visited the O2 Arena for their first construction of the stage, her first time seeing it live and in action. Harry had asked her on a date a bit before he was about to go on stage when he was dressed and ready and his band was making their way and she was mingling with other techs. It was quick, caught her off guard if she was honest. “Would you get drinks with me after the show?”

And before YN could properly understand what was happening in her life, she and Harry were exchanging keys to each other’s houses and staying the night and moving in clothing and going to weddings together. Their friends called it a whirlwind romance, and many of them admittedly said it was something that couldn’t see lasting past a few months – great friends they had back then – but if she was being honest with herself, which often she was, she loved every minute of it. YN loved Harry, more than she loved anyone before him, and she wanted to spend her life loving him and loving her career.

YN enjoyed going to the studio and hearing him record the songs that would never get heard past her ears. Harry loved watching her sketch out new stage plans for artists that he adored. They loved going to concerts together, seeing her work portrayed to thousands and thousands. Mutually, they respected each other’s crafts and their dedication, and it was something that bonded them more than it separated them.

Until the dreaded tour conversation came about.

Harry wanted her to come with him, to take a year remotely and travel the world with him, with her significant other, her partner. YN wanted Harry to understand that her career came first, just like his. That he didn’t like. In Harry’s eyes, YN came first, that he would’ve dropped everything for her and she wouldn’t do the same. Harry wouldn’t listen after that, and it led to a dreaded conversation in her kitchen with their keys on the table and two glasses of wine, saying that maybe in another life this was meant to be.

Eight months later, Harry is trying to prepare himself for what it’ll be like to see her again. Harry’s never stopped loving her. Hell, he’s written an entire album of songs that no one will ever hear because they’re lyrics he only wants her to hear. He nearly sent it to her, last month, all the recordings, simply to see if she would have something to say.

Always an almost. That’s how everything has been with YN, lately. Almost called. Almost sent the recordings. Almost reached out. Harry can never do the damn thing. He can never just say it. It’s always on the tip of his tongue, one step away. Harry’s always just one step away from her.

He can see her from across the room. It’s easy to notice her. YN is so fucking beautiful. He’s always said that, that her beauty is unlike anything he’s ever seen before. He notices her before he’s even made his way to the room where all the groomsmen are getting ready. Her voice travels through the tiny hallway in the hotel and Harry stops dead in his tracks, aching at the sound. He hasn’t heard her voice in so long. Way too long. He doesn’t want to disturb her, to take her away from her friends that she’s talking to, but more than anything he wants to steal her away and talk, just talk about anything, to simply hear her voice.

YN sees Harry almost as easily as he sees her – he certainly spotted her first – and walks right to him with her signature smile printed on her lips, leaving her friends behind and waving them off when they mention waiting for her. He swallows thickly and nearly extends his arm to shake her hand – now what would she have done with that – but she is too quick for him, always has been, and hugs him tightly, whispering, “Hey, H.” Harry nearly melts at the name. “It’s good to see you.”

Hugging feels intimate in the quiet hallway, and Harry stops himself a few times from breathing her in, the scent of her perfume that he knows too well bringing back memories that existed only in the furthest depths of his memory. He smiles warmly when she loosens her grip and steps away, saying something about seeing him at the aisle and saving a dance for her, something along those lines. He was too in awe of her to be paying all that much attention, in all honesty.

Harry watched as she walked away, and silently beat himself up for not saying more.

Harry’s hand was shaking against his side when YN walked towards him at the base of the aisle. He silently told his brain to ‘quit fucking around’ but it didn’t do all that much. She slinked her arm through his and smiled, nodding towards where the other bridesmaids were already walking and waiting for them. He didn’t notice that he was keeping them behind.

Green eyes are on her the entire ceremony, and she surely notices. Everyone does. Nearly to the point where one of the groomsmen nudge his arm and make him stare at the bride for even a nanosecond. Harry shrugs it off, saying that it’s nothing and that’s he’s fine, but everyone knows that he’s swimming with regret and unanswered questions.

He is fine. Harry’s fine. He’s fine until YN walks over and says, “I think you owe me a dance.”

Harry smiles his signature smile and stands, leaving his whiskey on the table and scooting his chair against the hardwood floor, taking her hand that’s stretched out for him and bravely kissing her knuckles. YN smiles, and he knows that wherever this is going, it’s nowhere near what the worst-case scenario he created in his head might have been.

“God, I love this song,” she says as soon as they make their way to the dance floor. “I’m working on their stage, right now. They have a tour coming up, this year.”

Harry circles his arms around her waist, exactly like he used to, and brings her into his chest, their faces mere inches from each other. Her hands lay on his shoulders, inching towards his neck, and the way their eyes are staring into each other’s make him know that there is still something there, even in the slightest capacity. “Busy bee, as always.”

“Have to do something with my time,” she giggles, shrugging her shoulders and licking her lips. Harry remembers that she does this when she’s nervous, and for the first time that night, it feels like his nerves begin to ease. “How are you? How’s everything?”

“Eh, well, I’m okay, I guess,” Harry says, and he believes that to be true. He is okay. He knows better than to lie to her, too. YN has a radar for bullshit. “I wrote two albums, this year.”

“Two?” YN blinks, waiting for confirmation. When Harry doesn’t say anything in return, she continues, “That’s amazing, H. I’m really proud of you.”

Harry doesn’t know how to react to that sentiment, because, although it feels painfully good to hear, it is still painful, nonetheless. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“It’s been a while since we talked,” she says softly, sliding her arms further around his shoulders and clasping her hands together behind his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner. I, there were things I wanted to tell you, and I wanted to share with you, but I just couldn’t. Things felt too raw. I wanted to talk, but every time I would go to dial your number, it was like, a mental block.”

Harry nods sadly, almost like he’s agreeing with her. “I know. I almost called, I almost texted. Good amount of almost things. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“H, we said we’d stay friends.”

“Am I not your friend, YN?” Harry chuckles, but she knows that there is pain behind it, an aching question that is dying to be answered unless the answer is something neither of them wants to admit. “Honestly, I just thought you’d moved on or hated me. I resigned to either of those reasons. I was okay with either, as long as you’re happy. That’s all I wanted to know.”

“Harry,” she says, shaking her head adamantly and meeting his glassy stare, “that’s the last thing from the truth.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a minute or two, maybe more, and YN is beginning to wonder if this conversation was a mistake. His silence is deafening and there’s a moment where she thinks she’ll slip out of his grasp, only to feel his palms widen on her back and one hand slip away to take her hand and spin her around. Harry smiles softly and listens to her laugh, and soaks in the sound, very unaware of where the conversation will go afterwards.

Music still plays behind them, and couples come and go from the dance floor. Harry and YN mind their business, dancing quietly and leaning into each other and soaking at the moment that feels like it could last a lifetime. His hand is holding hers, his other splayed across her lower back, and her cheek is resting on his shoulder when he whispers, “I still love you.”

Her hair falls down her back and across her face when she turns her head on his shoulder, and Harry reaches forward with their interlocked hands and brushes it away from her cheek. His expression is neutral, calm, and she can barely tell if she was meant to hear the confession or not. “Harry.”

“I still love you.”

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therealvinelle · 3 years

Text

Carlisle wouldn’t want to be human

This really goes for most of the Cullens, Rosalie excepted (I think Edward would last one day without his telepathy and superpowers before this happened (well honestly I think his denial would keep him from ever admitting this but this isn’t an Edward post so we’re cutting this thought short right now before it spirals)), but I see both Edward and general fandom just sort of take it for granted that if anyone offered Carlisle a miraculous human again pill (and I’m just picturing that as some hokey pill being sold on ad TV) he’d praise Jesus and swallow that down immediately, and I’ve to see anybody argue with that so here I go.

First of, if Carlisle were to suddenly find himself human again I have every belief that Aro would materialize and go, “My dear Carlisle has been made a human? How tragic! Never fear, old friend, I’ll fix that for you. Om nom nom.” and then Carlisle would not be human. And I’m only half joking when I say that, because Carlisle has a lot of friends, and while his animal diet is all well and good, if he were to actually do something like this they’d be very sad his human obsession has gone too far and stage an intervention. “We’re doing this because we love you, Carlisle. Now please try not to be too delicious. Om nom nom.” And then we’re back to Carlisle being a vampire again, though with slightly longer hair this time.

More seriously, if Carlisle was offered this miracle pill, then as a doctor he’d probably be less than enthused about it. He was there to see what happened to the Native Americans when the Europeans came carrying brand new disease, and after viruses and bacteria have had 350 years and a globalized planet to evolve, our seventeenth century priest is going to be in trouble. He’s unvaccinated to boot. He also has a completely different intestinal bacterial flora than modern humans do, which I imagine would not be fun for his digestion. This guy would be a sickly, constipated mess.

As for the main reason - why would Carlisle ever want to be human?

Before he’d mastered his thirst, then he’d probably feel obligated to. For as long as he hadn’t mastered it there was always the risk of him losing control and killing somebody. In his early days he certainly would have jumped on the chance. But none of this is a problem anymore.

So, to take the reasons why he wouldn’t say yes in the present day - first of, why would he not want to be a vampire? He is past worrying about his thirst. His vampirism is at this point purely an asset to him. It makes him great at his job. All his friends and family are vampires. If he were to become human again, he’d not just suddenly suck at his job (as I imagine he has incorporated his super senses into his work to the point where he would pretty much have to learn everything anew if he still wanted to be a doctor), his brain would be slow and limited, and he could never see his cherished friends, people he has known for centuries, again. He’d have to start over with another fake identity in a new place, and sure, this time he could stay until he died of old age, but he’d still be lying to everybody he met about his identity. Carlisle is very much a social butterfly, and he’d be unable to form meaningful friendships when he could never get truly personal with anybody.

In other words, Carlisle would be signing himself up for a lonely life of being average if not bad at his work. And his work is incredibly important to him.

Then there’s the fact that as a doctor, modern viruses aside, when it comes to health problems Carlisle has seen it all. He would know better than everybody that even if the modern viruses don’t make him a sickly mess, even if he doesn’t join the statistics of people who die in tragic accidents, he could still get a brain aneurism at the age of 24 and his human LARP is over. And who knows, maybe he had some nasty disease lurking in his DNA just waiting to ruin his life had he lived long enough, such as ALS. But assuming that Carlisle says “I’LL RISK IT”, even if he makes it to an older age, aging is no joke. Dementia, gout, incontinence, the general and inevitable decline of his body - this is the looming shadow hanging over all our heads. For an immortal who has seen countless humans succumb to it, why choose this?

And for what?

So he could have kids of his own, presumably with Esme?

He has a whole family. Rosalie and Edward especially are his children. Just, this guy loves his whole family so much, I can’t imagine he’d throw them aside in favor of some faceless toddler concept. I also don’t think he’d even want kids of his own, but I think that’s for another post. And also mostly a vibe.

So he could grow old with Esme?

Again - why? She’d be just as much an outcast as he, and face all the same health risks (except I suppose for the modern viruses, she hasn’t been dead for that long). I can’t imagine he’d want to sit idly by and watch her either die ahead of schedule, or live long enough to become unable to care for herself.

Then there’s the fact that at most he’d have six or seven decades. To him, that’s just the blink of an eye. And, again, a very unpleasant blink where he loses everything, is less intelligent, and slowly dies.

Lastly there’s the fact that the human he was is dead, his time has passed. Carlisle doesn’t belong in the human world any longer. He interacts with it because helping humans gives him joy and meaning in life, but he’s a man out of his time and this brave new world is not the one he once lived in. He would not in any way belong, and I think he knows that quite well.

Just, the whole idea that Carlisle would want this is founded on Carlisle having some sort of innate worship of humans where being human is inherently better. I’m sorry, but that’s Edward. If Carlisle felt this way, he wouldn’t be turning others into vampires, and he wouldn’t have vampire friends all over the globe. To him, thirst isn’t a problem, and his vampirism means he can save more humans than he otherwise would. The remaining concern would be God, but Carlisle’s life philosophy is that being a vampire is not by itself a sin, so he’s fine in that regard too.

In summation, I think Carlisle is quite happy being a vampire, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

#carlisle cullen #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #note on the intestinal bacterial flora #a study was done on an african tribe whose members were eating the same food as their ancestors had for thousands of years #and a group of regular americans #they switched diets #and the african tribesmembers' gut flora was noticeably decreased after just a few weeks #and as far as i remember this was irreversible change #while the modern americans did not have noticeable change #so if i understand that correctly then this might not be such a big problem for carlisle #but it's still food for thought #and i imagine the transition period would suck #he'd probably just take the easy way out and eat unprocessed organic food #be that hipster #vegan vampire and hipster human #... i'm quitting this 'carlisle's indigestion combat tactics' tag spiral #before it gets weirder #point is this guy would lose everything #he could never see his friends again #and in exchange he gets to give a forced smile and say 'yay. i'm human. yayy...'

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oliverwvvd · 3 years

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the potential for chaos

For the anon who asked about Yule Ball Flintwood, this is a beginning of sorts for you. This didn’t turn out the way I anticipated originally when you presented the concept, so I offer this as version 1.0 with something softer to follow.

pairing: Marcus Flint x Oliver Wood

premise: Marcus shows up to the Yule Ball solo. So does Oliver. Neither one is especially pleased about it, and the reasons why are personal.

wordcount: 2,194 words.

The Yule Ball. Welcome to the distinct scent of too much teenage desperation in one room.

The snide thought belonged to Marcus Flint, whose dress robes fit just fine, thanks very much, not that the same could be said of some of the people attending. Weasley the younger, for example, looked like a cat crawled onto the front of his robes, rolled around, and then obligingly threw up a lacy hairball before departing. Marcus’ were, shockingly, not green, because Slytherins were in fact capable of wearing colours that weren’t the house colours. Instead, he’d gone for navy blue, and they were tailored to fit. For now, he was leaning with his right shoulder firmly parked against a nearby wall, drink in hand (liberally spiked, courtesy of Pucey’s far too innocent face which had successfully hidden very good Firewhiskey somewhere on his person), and settling into the buzz around him.

He was razor-edged, dark hair and sharp jawline identifying him in the shadows, gaze steady still despite the warm burn of the Firewhiskey, and the growing warmth of the room. The music was alright, he supposed. He could work with this. He could especially work without being forced to find a date he didn’t like just to fit in, because no one dared give him crap about it. That left him with a sour thought of a very different kind he’d already decided not to dwell on. A lot of other people were on the dancefloor, but he was good right where he was, absorbing the potential for chaos and waiting for the lights to go just a little lower and darker. That was more his speed.

Unfortunately, someone else didn’t seem to care what his speed was, when they came up behind him and spoke into his ear. “You look bored, Flint. Looking for someone?”

Marcus didn’t even turn his head, simply took a sip of his drink. “Hardly. You evidently were, if you spotted me back here. Shouldn’t you be with your date, Wood? I’m sure you had a list of invites to choose from.” The words were cool and more than a little antagonistic, holding the pointed hint that he’d been fine by himself, and that Wood was welcome to leave him be now.

The other boy didn’t so much as take the hint, instead spoke more quietly, that hint of Glasgow burr there and gravelly in his ear. “Didn’t accept an invite, so no date. You?”

A little more to drink, but then he caught a hint of Firewhiskey that distinctly wasn’t from him. “So, you’ve also been in a corner drinking from whatever enchanted hipflask you and your mates in Gryffindor came up with, then,” he observed dryly. “Please to Merlin tell me at least that it’s not one with someone’s initials on it for when they inevitably drop and lose it later, at least.”

There was a very nearly painful silence then, and Marcus snorted, soft but still audible. “It figures.” It really, really did. “You know, it’s good form to at least cast a charm to hide the initials, Wood. I’m assuming it at least doesn’t belong to you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Marcus usually had to shut his eyes and count to ten before he bit the offending person’s head off and told them to mind their business at this stage. The Firewhiskey mellowed him out enough that it took away the edge to some degree, but it was still there.

“Good observation skills there, Wood,” he remarked, aware of other people potentially in earshot. “It’s almost as though it’s not really any of your business. Which it isn’t. But since you apparently can’t let it drop, I chose to attend solo. This is like a knock-off of all the same stuff that half of us deal with on holidays anyway.” The curse of the Sacred 28, old pureblood family gatherings and traditions and parties littered every holiday throughout the year. Inevitably, they all found ways of coping with the boredom after the age of fifteen, and usually that involved finding substances or decent company (preferably both) and vanishing from the scene entirely once it was deemed polite.

Wood moved in front of him then, there in the corner, solidly built shoulders blocking the rest of the room, mirroring the way Marcus leaned against the wall. He didn’t have any choice but to look at him then, and could only be grateful that the warm breath into his ear had stopped. If it hadn’t, he might have had to think too hard about how it made him feel, and he really didn’t want to right now.

“So you didn’t come with anyone.” It seemed like Wood was trying to make a point, but Marcus couldn’t tell what. It was frustrating, so rather than focus on that, he looked at the boy in front of him instead. He’d been lanky when they were younger, a bit skinny and coltish, but Quidditch had bulked him out and he was solidly built now at seventeen. And then there was the choice of dress robes; apparently he wasn’t the only one who made use of a tailor for once. That was a fine outline right there.

Realising he was admiring the view and that that wouldn’t do given the reason why he was in a mood in the first place, Marcus exhaled a sigh. “Obviously. What do you want, Wood?”

Wood seemed to realise he only had a finite amount of patience. That was a years overdue realisation as far as Marcus was concerned. “To dance with you.”

That made Marcus stare for a few seconds. Seeming to register that he wasn’t going to get a response unless he pushed, Oliver tilted his head at him. “One dance, Marcus. Something slow. We can stay right here in the corner for all I care, since you seem to prefer lurking in the shadows.” Then brown eyes examined him far too closely, his lips curled up into a smile that held just a hint of smirk at the edges. “Presuming you’re not too caught up in posing and sulking, of course.”

Oliver was crowding him now, just a little, and Marcus wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about it yet. His immediate response was no longer to punch the other boy in the face, that had been gone for a long while, so that was progress. “You can’t hold your Firewhiskey and you’re seriously misreading things, if that’s the best offer you can give me,” he pointed out bluntly. “So if you don’t mind, I’ll continue minding my own business right where I am. Lurking in the shadows.” That was when he leaned back and away, and took another sip of his drink. No one could see them back here. That thought made his pulse race.

Oliver (Wood, his mind stubbornly reminded him, trying to hang onto it) wasn’t necessarily going to just leave him alone, though, or so it appeared. “Then come out of here with me for a minute,” he said, voice quiet but still carrying through the space between them. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Marcus sighed exasperatedly, and drained what was left in the cup. Obligingly, it vanished the moment he set it down on a nearby table, and at this point, he’d given up arguing with Oliver. “Fine. You get two minutes.”

Once they did get outside, though, Marcus hadn’t quite registered just how much Oliver intended to make the most of those two minutes. He found himself rapidly dragged around a corner and pressed into an alcove hidden behind a statue that he hadn’t even known was there. When he went to ask what the fuck, Oliver put a hand over his mouth. “Shh, someone will hear.”

Beyond annoyed and now suspecting where this was going, neither of which he enjoyed, Marcus dragged Oliver’s hand off his mouth and hissed his next words. “What are you doing?”

Earnest brown eyes were fixed on him then, and this time, Marcus couldn’t get away or give him the cold shoulder. “Are you seriously still mad that someone tried to ask me to this thing?”

Marcus gave him a truly evil glare then. “You mean, am I pleased that someone else asked the person I’m not allowed to walk down the corridor with? I’m absolutely thrilled. Someone else walks up to you and asks right where I can hear; I kiss you in dark corners and Quidditch changing rooms for three months and get ignored when convenient.” The tone was flat, but the sarcasm wasn’t.

He saw Oliver wince, and then, completely annoyed and altogether done with the conversation, Marcus went to shoulder past him. Instead, he found himself pushed back into the stone, found himself being kissed, and he wasn’t letting Oliver think that was the last word on it. He wasn’t about to be lulled into compliance. Rather than lean into it, instead, he nipped the other’s bottom lip sharply, just enough to make him feel it, a kiss like a warning, before he reached up and sunk his fingers into his hair.

If he couldn’t have the evening, he was going to make sure Oliver went back with bruised, swollen lips, hair a mess, and every possible hallmark to show that he’d vanished with someone. Let everyone wonder who.

That it changed when Oliver seemed to yield, to surrender to being kissed rather than one doing the kissing didn’t escape Marcus either. It wasn’t until he could feel him trembling that Marcus released him, leaving him looking faintly dizzy where he stood. He smoothed out his robes then, slow and insouciant, enough to make Oliver watch the trail of his hands. “I’m not going to take whatever scraps you decide to throw me and be happy that’s all I get,” he said, words short, making sure they landed home. This was probably one of the worst sides of him. “You don’t act like it, so you don’t get to call me yours. Because I’m not.” Wasn’t that just the biggest lie he’d ever told, but it was supposed to be, because he was doing it purely to be mean and he knew it.

He lifted his thumb to the corner of his mouth then ran it along to the middle of his own lower lip, as though he could taste Oliver there. He could, Firewhiskey and everything that had become so familiar since they first crashed into trying to understand what this was. The reason he really did it, though, was to be a little bit cruel, to watch Oliver’s pupils dilate some more, to see him want to close the distance again, and then to deny him. Or at least, that’s the intention, right up until Oliver shakes his head. “Merlin help me you’re impossible sometimes,” was the set of words bitten out. “I was trying to apologise. To tell you that I only wanted to go with you, but I also wanted to protect this because it’s ours and people are incredibly nosy. I’m not ashamed of what we’re doing. You might not be mine, but I want you to be.”

Those were a set of words that Marcus badly wanted to be true, and it was enough to stop him cold, to make him rein in the sulking (if he was honest about what he’d been doing, that was it) and register them. The attempts to deflect hard that his feelings had actually been hurt had all ultimately proven to be unsuccessful, and he knew better than to use kissing as a weapon, it too often backfired and this was very much a case in point.

As though Oliver sensed the weakness somehow, damn him for it, the next time he was being touched was much gentler. “We could dance right here, if you wanted.” The words were breathed between them. That was when Marcus realised that they could still hear the music from the hall.

He made a decision. “Nah,” he said, not hesitating to turn down the suggestion. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.” He gave Oliver a pointed look then, and threw down the gauntlet. “Together.” It was a ceasefire, or the closest that they’d get, because they still needed to talk about the actual feelings involved at some point.

There was no phasing a Gryffindor with that kind of challenge, though, so Oliver didn’t even bat an eyelid. Show them anything like a bet you can’t and they immediately decided that not only could they, but screw you who says I can’t. The only reply Marcus got was a hand in his. It turned out he did want to kiss Oliver softly then, so it still took a few minutes longer for them to get back to the hall. When they did, the night sky that illuminated the ceiling had darkened to hold a spill of stars, and the lights had gone down to something far lower and barely there.

Oliver got his one dance. What he also got was a truth in his ear. “I’m only yours if you’re mine. Non-negotiable. What about it?”

The night wasn’t over yet.

#the potential for chaos #yule ball #ol writes things #flintwood #flintwoodnet #Marcus x Oliver #marcus flint #oliver wood

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absolutebl · 3 years

Text

This Week In BL

June 2021 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Y-Destiny Ep 11 - a timeslip friends-to-lovers episode, interesting. I do like that YD is exploring unique concepts for BL. I thought the use of anime for the past rather than child actors was smart given the subtext, but wtf subtext? Switching to English in times of extreme intimacy was fun too, although I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe because it threw up a culture contrast between the language and the innately Thai gestures they were doing at the same time (like the cheek snuffle)? (On a side note did you notice how extremely articulate both actors were with Thai as well as English? Very pretty orators, these two.) I really like this pair A LOT. The plot though? Ohboy. Childish innocent in body of adult but... is actually a child? Gives creepy a new meaning. I keep thinking about the 80s movie Big. That scene didn’t work in Big either. (It’s a bummer because it really does work as a couple of teens discovering their sexuality.)

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 10 - Mork finally has a reason for liking Pi, it’s just weak. Maybe that’s where my annoyance comes from, this is a weak show with poor story but good actors and GMMTV’s money, a contrast that makes it consistently disappointing. Like My Gear and Your Gown all over again, only worse. They didn’t need to shoehorn secret relationship trope into this series at all, but they did just to get situational comedy and that’s not an adequate reason. This show is a bummer because Phuwin really acts a great goofball, and Pond does noble pining well, the script is just failing them.

Top Secret Together Ep 5 - dropped with subs this week (yeah!) and introduced a new couple (totally unnecessary). I always think an excess of couples means they don’t have confidence in the main pair, which doesn’t makes sense with this show, since everyone is solid. Anyway, we getting bloated in a Gen Y kinda way but I’m stil enjoying it. My favorites got an “outsider assumes you’re a couple” moment which made me happy.

Nitiman Ep 6 - There’s a lot of limping in this BL. Yes yes injured ankles = allegory for limping injured relationship, I gets it. Then they doused us with singing feelings + lots of moot pining. Plus surprise Kao (from Oxygen) and, since it’s ep 6, a kiss. It was a lot but this is still my favorite BL right now. It’s so flipping D/s, alright? Jin was like “Bbomb, you can’t commit to being a Dom and then absent yourself from care responsibilities, even as a punishment, you gotta communicate.” Look at my boy dolling out kink life lessons. I love Jin. I love this flirty confused af big bi baby. Okay? Okay. Still, what inquiring minds want to know is: Will we ever know what is UP with Kheam (or whether to spell his name with or without the h)?

Side note: I know it’s a pipe dream at this juncture but seeing Turbo in Nitman (Jay) I really do think he’d be a great Izumi if Thailand ever does do that remake of Love Stage. I want them to do the original (manga or anime) mind you, not the live action version. And Kaownah would make for a lovable puppy-ish Ryouma. Ah well, if wishes were BLs... there’d be a lot more Thai adaptations of Japanese yaoi in my life in general.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Monster in Law AKA Mẹ Chồn Dâu Cáo (Vietnam) Ep 6 - continues to be cute (slow to sub but cute). Oh the trials of gay domesticity. I love it when a show justifies my own intense dislike of both marriage and children. So far this one is doing that while still managing to bring on the queer af family charm.

Love is Science? (Taiwan) Ep 11 (BL subplot) - DELAYED, but a new one is supposed to drop next week. Good thing too, I was going into cute-suit withdrawal.

Be Loved in House: I Do (Taiwan) Ep 5 - possibly one of the sexiest yet sweetest versions of the wet towel sponge bath trope I’ve seen in a long time. Plus I love how well they are redeeming the tsundere uke and the grumpy seme by making them both, secretly, the biggest softies ever. I take back what I said last week about this not being a favorite. This ep was a game changer. This show is great and I am so grateful we’re getting a full 12 eps of it.

Friend or Lover (Taiwan) Ep 3 - been waiting for this for a while, indie project that they seem to drop only once a month or so. It’s really sweet low budget but quite Taiwanese so enjoyable.

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 10 fin - sad to see this one end but it’s really good! You Are Ma Boy might still be my favorite from Vietnam but this show really had some crazy great queer rep, so I gotta give it extra rainbow stars. Full review here. RECOMMENDED with reservations.

Breaking News

Gaya Sa Pelikula AKA Like in the Movies announced a 3 part special airing June 11, 18, 25 on Globe Studio’s YouTube channel. It’s a “making of” BTS.

Lovely Writer special ep aired on June 9th. It was cute if largely unnecessary. Like the Cherry Magic special episodes, this one is fine if you want to track it down but you’re not missing much.

Made in Rooftop is a new Korean BL that I can’t believe I didn’t know was coming! It looks a bit like Korea does a light, bright version of Life: Love on the Line. Could lean a bit Queer as Folk? We got us a manic pixie dream boy + upright serious (but lost) out gay characters. MDL has it listed as a movie, their description is pants, but this trailer on Insta gives an idea what it’s about (trailer is also on YouTube but may not last there). Thanks to @crapyouknowme for the tip.

Gossip

Just a quick update to add I just learned about Fahlanruk the series (AKA Fhalanruk) form @heretherebedork. It’s slated for 2022 but it already has a fundraising trailer. Looks to be a strong contender in the Thai BL pulp arena. It’s using tropes we rarely see for the mains (one night stand + friends with benefits), and it tonally seems like a combination of Nitiman and the Y-Destiny players episode. I like sexually messy and identity confused college dramas (Love Mechanics for the win) but none of this is popular with BL main, and I suspect tastemakers know that. So Fahlanruk might struggle to find funding.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International subs accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

(I had to include this quote from Top Secret Together because I love it so much. It is such a classic grumpy seme complaining about a puppy uke.)

#asian bl #asianbl #thaibl #thai bl #Y-Destiny #Fish Upon The Sky #Top Secret Together #Nitiman the series #Taiwanese BL #Be Loved in House: I Do #My Lascivious Boss #Vietnamese BL #Monster in Law #Lovely Writer special EP #lovely writer #episode recaps #Gaya Sa Pelikula #Made in Rooftop #Fahlanruk

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Note

Your lan Quiren defending Jiang cheng fics, ARE THE BEST. I DIDN'T KNOW I NEEDED THEM TILL I READ THEM. THEY ARE FANTASTIC. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING THEM!! If it were up to me I would read 30 different stories about Lan Quiren being the real father figure JC rightfully deserves. Pleasw please could you continue with the moder!AU, in which LQ offers his house in case JC ever needs it? I just need a continuation based on JC going to LQ home and having some hurt/comfort.

Thank yoouuu

Anon: Please please can we have a continuation for that moder Au fix with JC and Lan Quiren?? My heart exploded from all the love. I just want good things for Jiang Cheng. 💚💚.

Anon: With JC day 7 all I can think about is the next family meal when LX and LW come over just to find Jiang Cheng setting the table

JC Love Month 2020 Day 17

Loneliness and Thoughtfulness

It seems like this idea was really popular, since three people asked for a continuation of this, so have at it ;) Day 17 of JC Love Month brings more found family with Lan Qiren, who continues to drag Jiang Cheng into his own home, and this time even his nephews get in on this as well. It follows JC Love Month 2020 Day 7.

Jiang Cheng is not at all surprised when Wei Wuxian bounds up to him during one of their breaks.

“Listen, Jiang Cheng,” he starts and Jiang Cheng is rolling his eyes at him before he even goes on.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re not coming home tonight,” he says and he tries to hide just how much that hurts.

Ever since the last fight Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian got into, Wei Wuxian has unofficially moved in with Lan Wangji and his brother. He only comes home sporadically to get some of his shit, but he never actually brings it back home again, and Jiang knows that it’s only a matter of time until he announces officially that he’s moving.

Jiang Cheng is not looking forward to that day.

Jiang Yanli has moved in with Jin Zixuan much more officially and she even cleared out her old room. She barely drops by anymore, not that Jiang Cheng can blame her much, and instead opts to invite Wei Wuxian and him to her new home.

She hasn’t invited Jiang Cheng in almost a week and he tries to not let that get to him.

But when he’s sitting in his own room, the whole house quiet and empty, because his siblings moved on and his parents simply don’t care enough to come home, it’s hard to pretend that everything is alright.

Jiang Cheng has only seen his parents once since he got the cast on his wrist and he’s not entirely sure they didn’t just buy a new house and simply forgot to mention it to Jiang Cheng.

He wouldn’t put it past them.

“You’re right!” Wei Wuxian excitedly says and brings their shoulder’s together. “Will you be okay?” he then asks, much more subdued and he lightly taps the cast still on Jiang Cheng’s wrist.

“Of course I will be,” Jiang Cheng scoffs, even though he’s not sure about that.

Cooking with one hand is damn hard and for the past few weeks when he’s been alone at home—which he is more often than not—he opted to eat take-out or prepared dishes.

It’s not the healthiest lifestyle to have, Jiang Cheng knows that, but the loneliness is getting to him and he can’t get himself up to cook anything, less alone do it with only one hand.

“Good,” Wei Wuxian says, clearly not picking up on Jiang Cheng’s lie and then his gaze strays over to Lan Wangji.

“Go over there already,” Jiang Cheng huffs out, already annoyed with the love sick gazes they throw each other even though there are only a few tables between them.

“If you say so,” Wei Wuxian beams as if he needed Jiang Cheng’s permission to leave his side and then he’s already gone again.

Jiang Cheng stares down at the food in front of him and it feels like the key in his pocket is burning a hole into the fabric.

He knows he could go over to Lan Qiren’s place, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t want to do it too often. He’s scared Lan Qiren will get fed up with him rather quickly if he shows up there every other day, and so Jiang Cheng has tried to limit himself to only go there once or twice a week.

It’s not nearly as often as he wants to go there but he figures it’s better than nothing.

With how today is going, he might have to make use of the key again, because for the first time this week his parents were home during breakfast and while his father didn’t spare him a glance, his mother berated him about how long it’s already been with the cast and she made an appointment to get it taken off.

Jiang Cheng is pretty sure the doctor in the hospital told him it would take six weeks, and it’s barely been four, but he didn’t dare to argue with his mother.

And now Wei Wuxian isn’t coming home either, and Jiang Cheng can think of nothing worse than to go back there; either to an empty house or to see his parents, so really, that only leaves him one choice.

“Dinner is at six,” Lan Qiren suddenly says from behind Jiang Cheng and he wonders where he materialized from. “I expect you at four, so you can help me prepare it.”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng says through the lump in his throat because he has seen Lan Qiren cook before.

He doesn’t need any help; doesn’t even accept it because he prefers to do it on his own, so clearly, this is only for Jiang Cheng’s benefit.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t make a detour home after class, because a few of his own things have migrated to Lan Qiren’s places as well; mostly stuff he needs to sleep in case he ever stays over again so Jiang Cheng doesn’t need to pick anything else up.

When he gets to Lan Qiren’s house, it’s still dark, so Jiang Cheng uses the key to let himself in. Once inside he sees light from Lan Qiren’s study and Jiang Cheng has to take yet again a moment to himself.

Lan Qiren deliberately let him use the key again, so that Jiang Cheng can see that it’s still working, that Lan Qiren didn’t change the locks or anything else completely ridiculous that Jiang Cheng can’t stop fretting about and Jiang Cheng presses his eyes closed for a second.

Jiang Cheng almost opens his mouth to yell “I’m home” but in the last second he bites his lips.

He shouldn’t take liberties, he shouldn’t assume. It’s not a home; it’s shelter at best.

“Ah, you’re home,” Lan Qiren says just at that moment, completely wiping Jiang Cheng’s mind blank but Lan Qiren doesn’t seem to notice.

“Keep me company in the kitchen,” he says and Jiang Cheng nods before he trails after Lan Qiren.

“I can help,” Jiang Cheng offers, despite knowing how this will go and Lan Qiren sends him a very pointed look that tells Jiang Cheng to shup up, sit down and do his homework.

Jiang Cheng does exactly that.

Lan Qiren is an efficient man in the kitchen and it’s not long before everything is ready; he’s certainly done faster than Jiang Cheng is with his homework.

“Do you have a problem?” Lan Qiren asks when he turns around and sees Jiang Cheng frowning down at his book and Jiang Cheng flushes.

He shouldn’t need help with this; they covered it in class, Jiang Cheng remembers it, so he should be able to figure it out for himself.

“Let me see,” Lan Qiren demands and comes around to look over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

“It’s this problem,” Jiang Cheng whispers and points at the passage that trips him up.

Lan Qiren reads it over and then he turns a few pages back, pointing at an entirely different passage. Jiang Cheng reads it over and finds that it’s exactly what he needs to solve the problem he’s working on.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng whispers, expecting to be scolded like his mother used to do when she was still overseeing his homework, but Lan Qiren only shakes his head.

“Homework is there to learn, there’s no need to be sorry for not immediately understanding a concept,” he gives back and Jiang Cheng can only stare at him.

No one ever actually told him that it’s okay to not get things on the first try and Jiang Cheng ducks his head.

“Thank you,” he whispers and that seems to please Lan Qiren much more.

“Finish up here, and then set the table,” he says, squeezing Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, who nods. “We’ll be four people tonight.”

“Four?” Jiang Cheng blurts out and he goes cold.

“My nephews will come over for dinner today,” Lan Qiren says as if nothing is wrong with that and Jiang Cheng scrambles to get his things together.

“I’ll get out of your way, I’m sorry for intruding today,” Jiang Cheng rushes out, his heart heavy in his chest and he only stops his frantic movements when he realizes that Lan Qiren is staring at him.

“What are you doing?” he demands to know and Jiang Cheng looks down at his book, so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Getting out of your way,” he lowly says. “Leaving you to your family dinner.”

“Four people, Wanyin,” Lan Qiren reiterates and Jiang Cheng briefly wonders if Wei Wuxian is allowed to come.

He and Lan Wangji are certainly at the boyfriend meets parents stage of their relationship.

“And I don’t mean Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren then says and Jiang Cheng’s head snaps up.

“I can stay?” he unsurely asks, because surely Lan Qiren would want to be alone with his nephews but when Lan Qiren nods he sinks down on his chair again.

“Oh, okay,” Jiang Cheng whispers.

“Family dinner is for those I want to have around,” Lan Qiren says, and now he’s not quite meeting his eyes anymore. “And that includes you.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes immediately start to burn and he’s so tired of always bursting into tears when someone is nice to him, but he can’t help himself.

He didn’t have a chance to build up a tolerance for it yet even though Lan Qiren is very relentless in trying to rectify that.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng says once he’s sure that his voice will hold and he turns back around to his homework.

He’ll get it done and then he’ll set the table, just like Lan Qiren asked of him.

~*~*~

When the doorbell rings, Jiang Cheng flinches. He thought Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen would have a key but maybe it’s just common curtesy for them to announce their arrival differently.

“You have a key, so you will use it,” Lan Qiren tells him before he marches off and Jiang Cheng sits back down again.

There are low murmurs and then Lan Qiren leads his nephews into the room. They both freeze when they see Jiang Cheng at the table.

“I wasn’t aware we’d have company this evening,” Lan Xichen mildly says though he gives Jiang Cheng a small smile.

When Lan Wangji only stares at him, he sinks further into his chair.

“Wanyin will attend family dinners from now on,” Lan Qiren decides and Jiang Cheng’s eyes get big.

He had thought this would be a one-time thing.

“Alright,” Lan Xichen says easily and then goes off to help his uncle carry the dishes over to the table, something Jiang Cheng can’t do yet, because of the cast on his hand.

“Wei Ying said you went home,” Lan Wangji says after he sat down, a small frown on his face and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I didn’t,” Jiang Cheng gives back and when Lan Wangji only glares at him, he looks down at the table.

He really does feel like an intruder.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen chides his brother when they get back from the kitchen and even Lan Qiren seems displeased by Lan Wangji’s icy glare.

“Don’t mind him,” Lan Xichen says to Jiang Cheng sitting down next to him. “He doesn’t do well with changes, especially unannounced ones.”

“I see,” Jiang Cheng whispers even though he doesn’t.

He steals a glance at Lan Xichen, because it feels safer than to look at Lan Wangji again, and he startles when he finds Lan Xichen already looking at him.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know Lan Xichen well at all, because he is already attending university and has been ever since Wei Wuxian took an interest in Lan Wangji which really was the start of all of this, Jiang Cheng thinks.

Jiang Cheng is curious to know what exactly Lan Xichen is studying, but he can’t bring himself to ask before they start with dinner, and Jiang Cheng knows enough by now to keep his mouth shut while they are eating.

Lan Qiren’s reprimand the first time had been almost gentle, but Jiang Cheng is still very careful to never forget it again.

Once they are done, Lan Qiren asks Lan Wangji to go with him to his study, leaving only Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng behind.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t dare to think that Lan Qiren wants to speak to Lan Wangji because of how he treated Jiang Cheng this evening, but he fails to see how else he could interpret Lan Qiren’s many glares at Lan Wangji during dinner.

“Join me in the kitchen?” Lan Xichen asks as he gathers up all the dishes and Jiang Cheng nods, before he reaches out to take his own bowl.

“Give that to me,” Lan Xichen says before Jiang Cheng can pick it up and then Lan Xichen looks at his cast. “How is your wrist?”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng says and then winces. “It doesn’t hurt at all anymore, it’s mostly annoying,” he admits and gets a smaller smile for it, though this one seems more real than the others.

“Will it come off soon?” Lan Xichen wants to know as he gets started on cleaning the dishes and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I have an appointment with a doctor on Friday,” he says, still hearing his mother say how he better not miss it and Lan Xichen stops.

“It’s only been four weeks, though, right?” he questions and Jiang Cheng presses his lips together. “A broken bone needs longer than that. You shouldn’t rush it,” Lan Xichen advises him and Jiang Cheng almost lets out a bitter huff.

How is he supposed to take the time to heal properly when his mother will only take it as one more weakness from him.

“Uncle said you’re going to attend family dinner from now on?” Lan Xichen eventually says when it becomes clear that Jiang Cheng doesn’t have a reply for him.

“It seems like it,” Jiang Cheng says, still unsure about it, because he cannot believe that Lan Qiren would want him to come back again.

“It’s good,” Lan Xichen says and then he turns around towards Jiang Cheng, instantly putting him on edge.

“Uncle mentioned that you have a key, but barely use it,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng grimaces at that.

“Jiang Wanyin, if he gave you that key he wants you to use it,” Lan Xichen gently says and Jiang Cheng shrugs, because Lan Qiren said the same, but it’s still hard for Jiang Cheng to trust it.

“Uncle has been lonely since Wangji and I moved out,” Lan Xichen says almost out of the blue. “He would never admit to it, but it’s true. He misses coming home to someone. Wangji or I were usually home before him and one of us would cook. Uncle misses that the most, I think. A homecooked meal by someone who cares about him.”

“I—” Jiang Cheng starts and then doesn’t know how to go on, because it feels presumptuous to offer to cook for Lan Qiren when he doesn’t know if Lan Qiren would even want him to.

“I could show you his favourite dishes,” Lan Xichen offers and Jiang Cheng finds himself nodding before he can give it a conscious thought.

“Uncle likes his food light and without many spices,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng scoffs, because yeah, that he noticed already.

“He keeps some spices and chili sauce for you here, did you know?” Lan Xichen asks and before Jiang Cheng can call him out on his lie, Lan Xichen opens a cupboard and true to his words the spices and chili sauce are all there.

The thoughtfulness is enough to bring Jiang Cheng to tears again and he only feels slightly ashamed when Lan Xichen steps close and puts a hand to his shoulder.

“Uncle wants you here,” Lan Xichen says. “He’s not doing it out of pity, if that is what you think. He has always spoken very highly of you and he was worried long before he learned about your situation at home,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng burns with the knowledge that even Lan Xichen knows that his family home is shit.

“He didn’t go into details, but it’s clear that he wants to take care of you. He’s not good at saying it, he and Wangji are much alike in that, but he means it. So please come home more often,” Lan Xichen softly finishes and Jiang Cheng tries to hide his face when a few tears roll down his cheeks.

“I’ll try,” he chokes out and Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren choose that moment to come into the kitchen.

“Xichen,” Lan Qiren exclaims and is at Jiang Cheng’s side a moment later. “Do not be rude,” Lan Qiren chides him but before Lan Xichen can say something Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“He wasn’t. I’m fine,” he says, even though it’s clear to everyone in the kitchen that he’s not.

Lan Qiren still hovers at his side and Jiang Cheng almost thinks that funny, but then Lan Wangji clears his throat.

“See you next week, Jiang Wanyin,” he awkwardly says and it’s as much of a peace offering as Jiang Cheng will get from him so he simply nods at him.

“See you next week. Do not say hi to my brother for me,” Jiang Cheng says, because he’s not quite ready to have Wei Wuxian ask questions about it, and Lan Wangji seems to understand because he nods.

“Well, until next week then, uncle, Jiang Wanyin, have a pleasant evening,” Lan Xichen also says and pushes Lan Wangji out of the room before anyone else can say something.

“Family dinners are weekly,” Lan Qiren explains, yet again not quite looking at Jiang Cheng. “Plus a monthly brunch on the last Sunday in the month.”

It’s not quite an invitation, but by now Jiang Cheng dares to presume that it actually is an invitation and so he nods.

“I will be there,” he reassures Lan Qiren who strokes his beard.

“See to it that you are,” he says and then makes his way into the living-room.

Jiang Cheng remains in the kitchen until he feels at least a little bit composed again and then he joins Lan Qiren, who is practicing on his guqin.

Jiang Cheng has found that it’s excellent background noise to do some reading for class, so he settles down on the couch with his book and an approving look from Lan Qiren.

It does feel a little bit like home.

Next part!

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #jclovemonth2020 #the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #lan qiren #found family #hurt/comfort #bad parenting #lqr is the best #but so is lxc #anon #Anonymous

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edensrose · 3 years

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Hello can I ask a question, just wanna make sure who was tomeo first love before nanami

Of course you can!! Okay let me explain, now, before I do

SPOILERS!! DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT THEM

So in order to understand this you need to have knowledge of Kamisama Hajimemashita's concept of time. In this case, time is a loop.

Consider this, if you go back in time and kill your grandfather, that would mean you cease to exist, correct? However, if you didn't exist, your grandfather wouldn't have been killed by you, therefore, nothing changes.

Another way of thinking of this would be:

You going into the past was already predicted and although it is your present, the actions you commit are already the past

Doesn't make sense? Hopefully this will explain it better.

Tomoe was in love with a human woman and so made a deal with a fallen god to turn human, and in return he was to marry this human for life. Unfortunately, she dies, leaving Tomoe with a curse mark which will eventually kill him. This is when Mikage finds him and in an attempt to save his life, makes him forget about his past, the contract and in-turn, the woman.

Now, who is this woman, you ask?

Do you remember when Tomoe takes Nanami's place at school because she's ill? Mizuki comes over with his incense burner and tells her Tomoe was far different in the past, so she goes back in time to see him?

She meets the feral Tomoe there, before he is a familiar. We see that Tomoe takes a liking to the girl, calling her a 'fine catch' and such, before tossing her once Akura-Ou arrives.

Nanami takes her chance and escaped back to the present, however, her actions were already mediated by the past. When she went back in time, the sight of her interests the past Tomoe and he finds himself thinking about her more than he usually would.

However, this is only brought up during the ending ovas of Kako-Hen.

Tomoe had fallen in love with Nanami [present times], this causes him to remember everything Mikage suppressed and in turn, brings back the cursed marks. Tomoe will die in seven days if nothing is done, so, determined as ever, Nanami springs back into the past to find a solution to save Tomoe. She hopes to find the fallen god he made the deal with.

Nanami, unfortunately, is caught by men who think she is a yokai due to her clothing, however, she is saved by a woman. This same woman takes her in and looks after her for the time being,

This woman is Yukiji

Nanami recognises her as the woman Tomoe loves [as per the episode where the Dragon King captures Tomoe and she goes to the past to prevent Tomoe from doing wrong to the king in the first place]

Nanami soon discovers that Yukiji hates yokai as they massacred her village and family. She is confused as to how something between her and Tomoe could have started up, if that was the case.

Now, I'm not going into the whole ova plots for the sake of simplicity, but past Tomoe soon recognises Nanami, as the girl he had taken an interest in [refer up where she goes back in time when Mizuki brings the incense burner], yet, he doesn't know her name. So when Akura-Ou speaks of a village beauty he wishes to make his own, Tomoe immediately connects the dots and deducts that the woman Akura refers to is in fact, Nanami. [However, Akura-Ou is actually referring to Yukiji].

Yukiji is to travel to another area [idk all the details forgive me], yet her father is sceptical due to the recent yokai attacks. This is when Nanami steps up as says she will disguise herself as Yukiji and do it instead. They agreed to this and Nanami is made to look exactly like, or at least, close enough to Yukiji

Nanami then goes on the little journey and is attacked by one of Akura-Ou's men in a staged kidnapping. Tomoe arrives and stops the creature, taking Nanami for himself.

Again, I'm not getting into detail but Nanami and Tomoe spend a lot of time together, with Nanami not letting up the guise of 'Yukiji', Tomoe assumes whoever he is spending all this time with is in fact, Yukiji instead of Nanami

Eventually, Tomoe asks Nanami to marry him, Nanami, although touched, tells him that one day she will be his wife. Tomoe requests that she gives him something as a 'promise' that she will indeed, one day, be his wife. Nanami gives him the hairpin that present Tomoe gave her as a gift

Nanami then leaves, as her time in the past as brought her body to a weakened state. Meanwhile, still in the past - Tomoe finds a fallen god and makes a deal with them to turn human, he presents the hairpin as a sort of 'seal' for this arrangement. The fallen god tells him that if he does not marry the human, he will die

Yukiji is killed by Akura-Ou and because Tomoe had been under the impression that the woman, Yukiji, was the love of his life - and the one he had made the deal over, the contract was broken and therefor, Tomoe was to die because he did not marry the human

Nanami discovers that it is her hairpin that is the key and ends up saving Tomoe, who now knows that it was Nanami all along. That she was the one whom he fell in love with and wanted to spend his life with, not Yukiji.

So, to put it simply. Nanami is the woman Tomoe loved in the past, it was always her. The only difference is that Tomoe was under the impression that Nanami was Yukiji due to the circumstances and information he recieved.

I hope that answers your question anon!! I'm also open for these types of things, idm explaining more and so on!

#kamisama kiss #kamisama hajimemashita #tomoe #nanami #yukiji #tomoe x nanami #kamisama kiss facts #kamisama hajimemashita facts #kamisama kiss canon explained #kamisama hajimemashita canon explained #kamisama kiss past #kamisama hajimemashita past

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inonibird · 3 years

Text

Sahuldeem/Kaleesh Q&A #6

Holy shit, a backlog of asks to address! Let’s DO it! (questions bold; answers italic) — I love all your Kaleesh stuff so much aaaaaa. Have you ever played Star Wars the Old Republic? Thoughts on Xalek? Thank you! I’ve never actually played it, but I’ve watched clips of Xalek interactions and he seems like a swell fellow, all [Sith] things considered. Curious if anyone’s written in-depth about him, fanfic or otherwise! More Kaleesh content, please and thank you. <3

Who’s your favorite original character from Sahuldeem? Ooooh, that’s a doozy. Hmm. Can’t pick just one. In terms of characters y’all have met so far in the story, I’d say Jindra is a personal favorite, if partially for the fact that she’s one of the most-developed. There’s another enjoyable minor Kaleesh original character who will arrive in the next part. We have quite a while before we meet my favorite original character overall, who we will not see until Part SIX of Sahuldeem (and who plays a rather important role for such a late showing). And then, yeah, okay, not an ORIGINAL character, but I think my absolute favorite character to write for is the insufferably snarky sassy smugness that is Chairman San Hill of the InterGalactic Banking Clan. God I want to punch him so badly. He’s great. Can’t wait for him to show up.

I noticed Sahuldeem hasn't dropped the name Qymaen just yet... Does he ever formally forsake it, or does it just get to the point where he doesn't have anyone to be on a first-name basis with and his forename just... fades into irrelevance? Short answer? No. Long answer? No, and also sort of yes, but not really, because it’s sad and complicated and you’ll just have to wait and see.

So, Huk is also the home planet of the Yam’rii. How did the Kaleesh even hear the word, much less come to associate it with the Yam’rii themselves, to the point it means soulless insect? Oh, boy. Yes. Exactly. It is the most ridiculous part of Kaleesh/Yam’rii “established canon” and something I almost immediately said “yeah no” to; it’s one the few flat-out changes I made for this fic. Within the universe of Sahuldeem, “Huk” is purely a Kaleesh word meaning “soulless bug” and NOT the name of the Yam’rii home planet (which I haven’t referred to by name in the story, but might as well simply be “Yam’rii”). And that’s it. Otherwise you’d have to assume that somehow Huk is a word both in Yam’rii and Kaleesh and just happens to mean what it means in Kaleesh and—yeah, no, that’s nonsensical. I don’t care. No. Bad.

Is fashioning kakmusmal from the skulls of other Kaleesh unheard of? I’m sure it’s taboo, but has anyone ever crossed that line? Way, WAY back in the day such things were done (like prehistorically speaking, before certain theological practices were finessed and upheld), but at least for the past few thousand years, yes, calling it “taboo” would be accurate. That’s not to say it HASN’T been done recently, but such a person would be considered a sociopathic monster.

Something something, Ronderu is taller than Qymaen, something something, I wonder how often Grievous thinks about how that wouldn’t be true anymore You assume Grievous thinks about such things post-crash…

Were any Force-sensitive Kaleesh discovered by the Jedi during the Bitthævrian War? Personally, I think that the relatively small number of Kaleesh that the Jedi would have encountered/exploited during the Bitthævrian War would mean that the sample size simply wouldn’t be enough to include a Force-sensitive individual, since such a thing IS pretty rare on Kalee. But that would be a heck of a fanfic. ;)

We know Shahulla was taken alive— is it possible she’s survived this long? Certainly possible. But I can confirm she’s out of the picture.

How did you go about designing your (iconic!) versions of Qymaen and Ronderu, since they differ visually slightly from the only canon images we have? I don’t think I changed them TOO much, but, uh, thank you for thinking of them as iconic! I took cues from the official Kaleesh art out there + the only art of Ronderu we have + various concept art of Qymaen, made my own lazy shortcuts when it came to costume design (since I was thinking this might end up being a comic, aka, oh-god-simplify-this-shit), and picked out some clear key colors for each of them (bluish-grey + red for Ronderu, gold/beige/brown for Qymaen). Ah, and I think I mentioned before that I was just looking to design something “different” than what we saw in concept art when it came to Qy’s hair. Still probably my favorite part about drawing him!

(oops, made myself sad)

When is Part Three coming? Haha, joke’s on YOU, no one actually asked me this!! …I’m still answering. Part Three is the hardest part to write (it was also originally the hardest part to script), and I’m STILL struggling to get past the more challenging aspects (between staging space battles and the overall more grim tone). I’ve got a schedule drafted up to see how long it will take to post what I have already written, and…though part of me is worried I’ll catch up to myself too quickly, even with a biweekly posting schedule, I also recognize that giving myself deadlines is going to help me push forward instead of wallowing in the uncertainty of some of these chapters. So, ASSUMING I can haul myself out of this rut, it’s possible I may start posting by the end of the month. And possibly no longer on Friday. Stay tuned and thanks for your patience. Hopefully it will be worth the wait~

#Inoni Answers #Inoni Writes #Sahuldeem #Star Wars #Kaleesh #Kalee #Qymaen jai Sheelal #Ronderu lij Kummar #General Grievous backstory #Sahuldeem spoilers #fanfic #Inoni Art

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samsaintjames · 3 years

Text

okay so: fic recs

So this is gonna be really long and rambling (I'm sure), but we start with the basics.

If you're only ever going to read one and only one fanfic in your entire life you have to read Increments of Longing. It's a Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner fanfic, but it's AU enough and so well written, that you probably do not actually need to know anything about Warcraft or World of Warcraft and the respective lore and backstory to enjoy it. Just look at it like a very good fantasy novel about an arranged marriage. [...]“But you would tell me what you want?” Sylvanas asked in a voice that was far too controlled to be truly nonchalant."[...] I could not even tell you why, but this line there from the second chapter? It gives me feels (and I could not even tell you what exactly I'm feeling, but yeah).

Anyway, read it (I've read it twice now)!

Okay, from the same author I also whole-heartedly recommend you search the mountain. Which is another Jaina/Sylvanas story, again AU, with Jaina being Drust. You do not necessarily need background info - there even is a map of Kul Tiras included - but you'd probably benefit from it. Particularly the early chapters, when you get to know Arthur, made me laugh and giggle quite a bit, even though the story itself is - since it's about the Drust and a civil war - a bit of a horror story/military fiction crossover I'd say. Good read.

And my kinda guilty pleasure (also from the same author) is no end in sight. It's a story about Suramar (and healing). And when I started playing WoW towards the end of Legion, shortly before the Argus patch, I absolutely fell in love with that region/city and the Nightborne - probably because I wasn't stuck on the repetitive content of it for forever lol. So this story about Thalyssra and Jaina and the other Nightborne NPCs is awesome. I was actually considering to also write about Jaina/Thalyssra, simply because just imagine the insane magic those two could do when working together (I mean they kinda do in Nazjatar), but knowing me, this will probably never get past the conception stage.

Inevitability is also absolutely amazing (it's another - you probably guessed it - Jaina/Sylvanas AU, with both of them being professors - considering I've been working in academics for the last 15 years that's kinda my jam). And I have a lot of thoughts about it, which for the sake of not boring people to death I'm gonna abbreviate (but well I'm ready to talk people to death if they are interested). One: I'd love to meet this Sylvanas. Two: I'd never have the guts to talk to her, but I'd totally want her to take me home lol (and I'm not even sure I'm gay). Three: life at universities around here is very different from - I'm assuming - the US.

(Also if you're into AUs, go check Fearless - which features witches and ghosts and is fun.)

Okay, so now we're coming to how I actually fell into the whole Jaina/Sylvanas thing. It's because of Daugthers of Sea and Snow. Which is a Frozen/WoW crossover featuring Jaina/Elsa I found by looking through Frozen Fanfics when I was bored around the time Frozen 2 came out and then completely forgot - it was still work in progress then; I found the still open tab in my browser like four to three weeks ago, saw it was finished now and devoured the whole thing. And while I was there, I looked at the other things that author had written - and that's how I stumbled upon Jaina/Sylvanas, like two years late. Which is probably kinda ironic, since I played BFA a lot (mythic raiding beginning with Uldir), loving the Storyline in Kul Tiras and being absolutely enamoured with Jaina especially after her Warbringers vid (I still sometimes humm the song) - and liked Sylvanas since Warcraft III. Sometimes life is weird.

So and after that I jumped down this particular rabbit hole while doing a thrilling backflip. There is an assortment of other stories that I very much enjoyed.

A Touch of Arcane - the first fix of political marriage AU for Jaina and Sylvanas that I got (I think it was actually the first Jaina/Sylvanas fic I read period). And boy did I get hooked to that.

Along the same lines but different are Worth the Trouble and Two Rooms.

If you're into AUs for that pairring, you'll find a lot of intereseting ones from the Author katofthenorth. The one about diving is really cute.

Stories not yet finished that I thoroughly enjoyed so far (most of them political marriage AUs - lol I'm a sucker for those okay, it's not my fault!):

Ink and Honor is amazing. I came for Jaina/Sylvanas, but I love the Thalyssra/Vereesa storyline just as much - it's sooooo cute, like even Genn ships them ^^.

threads of silk.

climb the walls.

Measure of the world. They aren't married (yet, it's a possibility though I'd guess and I haven't even reached the end of the so far posted chapters yet, but enjoyable read nonetheless).

The Lighthouse. Amazing AU, I love the idea - and it's not political marriage! I cannot wait for the next chapters.

I've dug too many holes into this thawing ground. This story gave me a lot of feels too.

Honorary mentions for stories that I'm assuming might never be finished, but are amazing reads.

Shot in the Dark. Fuck that is awesome! Secret agents and spies - okay technically snipers, but it's the feeling that counts, right? (and Tyrande in a suit is a nice bonus).

Trust in Me. Sylvanas as Jainas bodyguard AU.

Okay so... I still have like 250 tabs or something ridiculous open in my browser (that's not overstating it, it's fact, in fact I might be understating it at this point and it could already be 300) and I haven't obviously read all the amazing Jaina/Sylvanas fanfics out there yet, particularly short ones or one shots or series might have gotten lost, since I usually filter for high wordcounts only. So, if anyone feels stuff is missing, it does not mean I didn't like it, it could be I've just not read it yet.

And now for something completely different.

I want to point towards one of the coolest crossover stories/series I've ever read: Felicitas. Which is an Arrow/Highlander/Raven crossover that imagines Felicity as an ancient immortal. And it's just soooooo good, I've been following it for years. (That being said, I never watched Arrow past season 2 and I probably never will considering what I know about how the story of the show continues, I've been burned once with Bering and Wells, I'm not going there again. But that's totally fine, because Felicitas also only goes as far as Season 2.)

And then there's still waters and quiet men. I'm not even sure what to say about it. The sheer lunacy and the insane escalation present in this story should not have amused me as much as it did I think, but I remember laughing tears when reading this, because while it's actually really sad that some people might find this kind of behaviour of male characters in fiction normal, it was abso-fucking-lutely hilarious in my opinion. (That said, I've probably only read it halfway, but still, it's hilarious! Well if you have the same maybe weird sense of humor I have anyway.)

New Beginnings is a FemShep/Liara crossover with Stargate SG-1. So it's combining my favourite TV show with my favourite Videogame of all time. And it's brilliant.

So yeah that's my fic recs for the time being. If you just want a tl;dr, go read Increments of Longing. (I just cannot stress enough how amazing that story is.)

I'm only tagging Jaina/Sylvanas since most fics are about them.

#fic rec #fic recs #Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner #sylvaina

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sanstropfremir · 3 years

Text

episode 9 baby!!! dear lord that was a lot!!

frankly, i'm still in shock that i full on manifested an opera stage, AND it was a rock opera stage at that! plus i got a jazz stage AND a taemin stage??? if they’re pulling out all my favourites now then what on earth are they gonna do in the finale??? this was a very overwhelming crop of stages, i thought i was going to be prepared, but oh no i was not prepared. i'm just going to get right into it because this one is gonna be long and i have many words. i'll discuss in airing order first, and then put my personal rankings for this round at the end.

btob

costume

changsub, you absolute king. spectacular. stunning. incredible. zoot suit riot playing in my brain on repeat. will i finally get the zoot suit revival of my fucking dreams instead of this current drab ill-fitting suit trend? for those who are wondering why in the fuck changsub is dressed like that and what on earth i’m talking about, the specific cut of suit that he’s wearing is called a zoot suit, which were popular in mexican, black and italian american communities in the 30s and 40s, until they were outlawed by the united states war production board as a fabric rationing method as part of the war effort in 1942. there was a huge amount of mob violence surrrounding the wearing of them (there were actual zoot suit riots) as they were direct counter culture fashion to the predominant drab trends of white americans at the time. i'm actually very impressed they got a proper (modernized) cut of zoot suit instead of just putting him in an oversized one; there are actually specific structural differences. the pegged trouser legs, large should pads, and knee length single breasted jacket are key features, and they were often in much more flashy fabrics than a pinstripe, but they get points for effort. i wish they had put all of them in zoot suits but he’s playing the ‘lead’ actor so i will begrudgingly forgive them.

eunkwang those are the stupidest sleeve garters ive ever seen i love them never take them off. they’re like someone decided to repurpose a suspender in the worst way. excellent. i do love that they’ve got three of them in oxford saddle shoes, another great touch.

love the three piece and the fedora* on peniel. it's also in a relatively close period cut; waistcoasts (vests) were generally cut much higher in the neck pre-war, we only start seeing the neckline slide down in the 60s (i think? i don’t remember when exactly). also love to see a proper sleeve and jacket length, it's good practice to have at least a finger’s width of sleeve cuff visible ahead of the jacket sleeve when hanging at rest. also looks like there’s french cuffs on everyone, which is also great.

minhyuk in his slutty lowneck shirt....thank you. in addition to the zoot suit revival i would also like a revival of those ultra low necklines on mens’ shirts from like 2010-2011. i don’t think those are the same boots from the backdoor stage but those are some beautifully cut boots. i also loved the little details of his crewmember look, especially the chunky watch and the string bracelets; those are super realistic, i know so many crew with them and i had several for many years. and who doesn’t love a visible button fly?

none of any of the other costumes are period in any way shape or form but i’m forgiving it because there’s several layers of meta in this stage, and they explicitly based it on la la land, even though we don’t respect la la land in this house. do i wish they had gone more strictly period with at least the jazz club ‘actors’ a little more? absolutely, but i'm not mad about it.

set

again we’ve got a good delineation of the two different ‘stages,’ there’s the club itself in the smaller stage and the soundstage set in the larger space. you can pretty clearly see all the ‘pieces’ of the set on the soundstage, especially the obvious set painting techniques on false prosc frame and the window facade from that first little scene. also the you can see the castors (wheels) on all the setpieces too, which is another nice little versimilitudinous** (triple word score!) touch, as old hollywood movies were made still using theatre stagecraft techniques.

i love how the visual shorthand for ‘this is a set wink wonk’ is just...leaving a ladder on stage. i see it all the time and it's so funny. it doesn’t always make sense because as soon as there’s actors on set the ladders are the first thing cleared because actors cannot be trusted, but yes there are always ladders, so. also psa ladder safety is no joke, please be careful on ladders.

nice streamline of the mnet deco into the club. i’m consistently surprised at how well the designers have been able to mask it or use it to their advantage, because in the normal kingdom stage lighting it is SO obvious and stylistic that it always sticks out.

i'm going to ignore the fact that they implied changsub and miyeon were drinking wine out of martini glasses.

lighting

no complaints, it does its job. everything is visible and super clear. love that the ‘scene’ changes are made through the lighting, it's a really simple and effective device to change atmosphere. purple/blue/amber are the most flattering colours on human skin and that’s why you see it so commonly in stage lighting. also blue/lavendar is the best way to show nighttime/moonlight.

really nice and subtle projection work, especially with the billboard bit and the blue moon sign in the club. despite being obviously meta/’world breaking’ it’s actually very seamless and fits well into the flow of the stage.

sound

i love love love the big band feel in the intro, combined with the piano lead. very duke ellington, as all things should be.

no complaints. i love big band. i love eunkwang’s voice. i have nothing else to say.

staging

i LOVE this movie within a movie within a performance meta nonsense! it's such a fun concept and it is exactly what i wanted ikon’s first round stage to be! i also love to see btob consistently coming up with concepts that are inventive and fun and allow them to showcase their technical performance skills without the aerobics the younger groups are putting themselves through. it provides a really lovely variety and it just goes to show that you can make impressive, dramatic stages without having to be serious or ‘dark.’

i do wish they had leaned into the band director/lead singer with eunkwang a bit more; this could have been a really excellent place for a tap number a la the nicholas brothers or an homage to cab calloway. i know i know this was meant to be la la land themed but la la land is a cheap and whitewashed version of jazz and look me right in the eyes and tell me this isn’t the greatest tap routine of all time. i know i’ve typed this out somewhere before but la la land is just a conglomeration of old hollywood tropes and so stylistically cheap that this would have such a better visual core if they had actually looked back at the real old hollywood musicals like stormy weather. even singing in the rain and an american in paris have such phenomenal visuals and are really beautiful examples of the scope you can pull off with a limited technical capacity and sticking to these old techniques.

now that i'm thinking about it, oh my GOD i would DIE for a lindy hop routine in kpop PLEASE. i know it would never happen because kpop doesn’t like partner dancing and not a single kpop boy has the chops but oh you think fourth gen has too many acrobatics?

this got off track but i think you see my point.

---

ateez

costume

these are really sharply cut suits. and the detail work on the beading??? so beautiful. i'm disappointed that they gave me a rock opera stage without the true ridiculousness of rock opera costuming, because they could have pushed this a lot farther if they really wanted. a tragic lack of gay little outfits, seonghwa’s lace choker is just not enough! two favourite suits: hongjoong’s and yunho’s.

that being said i do actually really like these. this stage is actually very modern opera with a kpop twist and i'm a little surprised by that? i continue to be impressed by the ateez team who are clearly doing their research.

i'm absolutely not going back through their stages to check all the choreography but i wonder if you can track all the ‘wound’ placements to places they’ve been ‘hit.’ i wouldn’t put it past them to have put that thought in but also i’m not expecting that much either.

who is this white grim reaper bdsm executioner chain arm man. where did he come from. i have no idea and i love it.

why is honjoong blindfolded. it was such a fast beat, if youre gonna blindfold someone give it a little longer and some more obvious narrative weight!

seonghwa does that quickchange, runs across that massive stage to the smaller set, and gets into places in like 45 seconds. it's not the hardest quickchange in the world but still, under a minute is fast for any quickchange, especially when there’s travel time involved. i think the fastest, most complex quickchange i ever did was in university which was a 50s cocktail dress into a flannel and culottes with a shoe, hair, and jewelry change in 35 seconds. and that took three dressers. quickchanges are always impressive. the added bonus of this review being later is that i can specifically reference that you can see him book it the fuck off stage in the full cam!

cute moment with the backup dancers dressed in costumes from the previous stages. i'm assuming this is a time travel reference? i'll get more into my thoughts on this in the staging section. regardless, love to see that iconic seonghwa moment again.

set

this is such a restricted space! they really pared down their dancing space with those staircases and ....arms? honestly i have NO clue what these are supposed to be. the only thing i can maybe think of is flying buttresses??? but why?? i mean, i'm 90% sure theyre just there for drama and i agree but i do still have questions.

there’s a lot of moving parts in this set? the buttresses, and the upstage centre staircase. i don’t think the staircase is totally automated because i spotted some dancers securing it in place, but it’s still a moving part. i do really like that we get that expanding upwards energy, because it's really tough to get functional level movement in this kind of a performance, mostly because of its length and because it moves so quickly. so seeing the downward vertical movement and then the upward movement was actually a really nice visual contrast that made use of how tall those fucking ceilings are, and the fact that they had less horizontal space. in sort of similar way to sf9’s jealousy stage, using long, narrow vertical lines really makes it feel like a castle space. the interiors of castles, especially the really old ones, are a lot smaller than you think they would be.

i’ve actually seen that type of small house/tent/thing several times in various types of performances before, but i think this is the first time i’ve seen it used as a time travel device (other than in the say my name mv). aesthetically it's a bit incongruent but i dont really mind because i'm used to watching rock operas that look a lot weirder than this.

lighting

there is so much happening. i have NO clue what the projections are doing. i dont hate it though, so that’s a plus? there’s a clear-ish colour arc even if it does get a bit funky in the middle, which is why the projections dont feel as insanely distracting as some of the other stages we’ve seen.

the climax is a perfect example of how to light a busy stage with primarily red but still maintain clarity on the performers. a little bit of red goes a long way; the spark stage from last week would have looked so much better if they had done what the ateez designers did here.

sound

i know it's only ode to joy, but answer already gets my motor running and then i get so gassed by the guitars and then by the time those vocals come in i'm inconsolable. i don’t know why i wasn’t expecting a rock opera stage but i'm so glad i got that surprise because i genuinely love rock operas so much. it's two of the most dramatic genres in music, what more could you possibly want?

staging

the choreo for answer is so goofy that I'm kinda glad this was mostly terrible mnet boom shots. i love it, but you can't deny that it's goofy. i spotted a couple of moves from their other choreos as well?

choreographing dance fights is just as difficult as choreographing real fights and i think they did a fairly good job here. i think it was a solid mix of dance and conflict that erred on the side of dramatic rather than accurate and i prefer that over trying to be ‘realistic.’ i’ve only ever seen one truly realistic fight scene on stage and that was for a deeply naturalist play (boring and a waste of the medium), but the best fight scene i’ve ever seen was in the prague national ballet’s adaptation of kafka’s the trial where three ballet dancers beat the absolute snot out of the main character with the most beautiful leg extensions. that whole show was probably one of the best pieces of dance i’ve ever seen, holy fuck it was so good.

despite how insane the music and the visuals were going, i actually really liked how sedate this was, on the part of ateez’s performance. there was a really sophisticated and resigned energy from them that is very different from what we’ve previously seen and i think that was a pretty admirable risk to take. reaching the top and then throwing away the crown? especially in a competition where every other stage has involved stealing crowns or royalty and there’s a group competing that got here through that very concept? that shows a real maturity, peace of mind, and foresight that i did not at all expect from a bunch of 22 year olds.

here we come to a very interesting comparison. both ateez and tbz are very heavily leaning on previously established group lore. we all know my thoughts on why it isn’t working for tbz, but here’s why i think it is working for ateez: it's because it doesn’t matter to the audience’s understanding of the stage. i had absolutely no fucking clue what was going on the first time i watched this, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the music and all the weird shit they were doing. i totally believed that they understood what was going on. there’s a loose enough established conflict right at the beginning that draws us in, and really it doesn’t matter who they're fighting because they win in the end. the key here is that they’re so earnest. they believe 100% in every move they make on that stage. there’s no winks to camera, there’s not a drop of irony. they really deeply care about the ridiculousness of it all and that’s what makes it work. i sure as fuck dont know what’s going on, but i can see that they do, and i trust that. this is what i meant when i talked about convincing the audience you belong on stage in my stage presence post. i’ve never once believed that juyeon was anything other than an idol. he’s talented and very beautiful and he may occasionally stand on that stage like he owns it but it's always as juyeon. as an idol. but when hongjoong flaps around in that gigantic fur coat i 100% believe he’s a pirate captain. I believe he’s a punk rebel leader. i believe him a resigned king. there’s always a level of irony you have to fight as a performer because we all start from a place of disbelief. acting is not just lying to the audience, it's lying to yourself too. and if you succeed in convincing yourself? well, you’re already halfway to convincing us.

i checked it out because i wanted to see if they did the blindfold how i expected them to and was genuinely surprised by hongjoong’s fancam. the boy is EMOTING even when he knew the camera wasn’t on him; that’s a real dedication to craft.

ok i'm finished talking about this stage, this is over two pages in my document, there’s so many things i have not covered here but that’s fine, i'm quite sure any further thoughts will end up out there at some point.

---

sf9

costume

let’s get it out of the way......crop top. crop top? crop top. crop top.

ok, besides the crop top, i think i might actually like the backup dancer outfits more...? i find mannequin adjacent looks really fascinating and i thought there was a lot more they could have done here in connecting the two thematically. i actually think a change of costume on the boys would have been very interesting, especially because there was a lot of inference and direct reference to changes of colour.

ALL the backup dancers are wearing the same wig and i LOVE that.

special mention zuho’s.....jacket? the right idea but it absolutely should have been one of those extreme french cut bodysuits, you COWARDS. don’t come at me with this ‘male version of venus’ if you don’t have your whole torso out! come on!

set

not sure if this is meant to be a department store, a factory, or a white cube gallery. honestly you could make the case that they’re all the same place anyways. more on this later.

i loved the movator and wish they had used it more! that sequence was so good and they could have done some more interesting repetition sequences to further highlight the ‘sameness’/the breaking of that sameness.

i feel like the set could have been used more as a whole? i would have loved to see some mannequin interactions with those boxes, because all they did was dump colour everywhere.

....why did they feel the need to include the rain bit? i know it's likely because it's in the mv and at the 2018 dream concert taemin does perform move in the rain, but with the standing still and the box walls with the words it just looks like a department store ad. which i...dont think is what they were intending?

lighting

nothing really to say here. it has a similar feel to the mayfly rap stage, which is fine because the lighting for that was good. i could tell what was going on all the time and that’s the most important part. notable standouts are the lips sequence, that's fun use of pop iconography and very effective, and the scanning lasers at the beginning.

the repeating sequence in the edm dance break is actually done pretty simply, it's just what happens when you point a camera that’s livestreaming to a monitor directly at that monitor. it's a very cool effect and it was neat to see it used intentionally, especially with the handheld leds.

actually i also really liked the lightbox tables, those were cool.

sound

the remix was fine for the most part, it was about what i expected it to sound like. i did however greatly dislike that unnecessary edm break in the middle. what was the point of that? it didn’t add anything to the overall sound or arc of the stage because it was SO out of place. there was no connective tissue around it.

oh i was also not a fan of the effect on zuho’s mic. no one else had a discernible vocal effect so it felt a little out of place. also for some reason his cadence and tone right at the end made me think of some of the voices that bo burnam uses for his vocal masque sketches/songs, especially repeat stuff, weirdly? took me right the fuck out of it. i listened to it again after i slept and i’m still getting it, so maybe i’m just going insane so best ignore this part.

staging

loved the mannequin tree, not a clue why it was there.

do actually think this is a successful cover because it does what i was hoping it would, which is take move completely out of the taemin context and put it into an entirely new one. however, i’m really struggling to figure out what exactly that new context is? and what theyre trying to say with it?

obviously they went for a ‘show your own colours/individuality’ vibe, like i said in the set section, where exactly is this supposed to be? from the start i get factory/mechanized environment, which is fine and grand because mannequins and making repetitive motions and products and all that, makes sense. but then there’s stacked shelving type units happening and curtains and that combined with the mannequins give me pretty big department store vibes, which is also fine, because that’s still a comment on commercialization and the mass production of product. but then we get to the movator and the repetitive movements of the dancers say pretty clearly factory, but the lighting and projections are very pop art referential, plus combining that with the white set, just makes me think of an art gallery. so now is this a comment on the commercialization and commidification of contemporary art? are they making a statement about being ‘real’ artists among the others who have lost the critical understanding of why pop art was even a thing in the first place? and then the rain bit at the end literally looks like a department store ad, so are they then making another statement that they still are that packaged product? maybe the episode has more clarity in it but i’m genuinely a bit baffled by what the underlying statement is here.

i suspect it is not as deep as i'm making it, but i did say that i was likely to be hyper critical of this stage AND i am a grad student, so here we are.

---

tbz

costume

ok of all the ‘fourth gen’ style costumes we’ve seen, i actually like these ones more than most. i'm not entirely clear on the theme but i'm assuming it's meant to be post apocalyptic, and i'll take that.

backup dancers in black!!! we’re beyond this!!!

this will be a running theme with this stage, but i’m disappointed these don’t have more depth.

set

compared to every other stage, the set here seems especially plain. there’s so little set dec that it's disappointing. i do like the movement of the pieces themselves combined with the blocking; that first slide underneath the arches was slick and i would have liked to have seen more of that.

yea ok the big snake was cool and also a fairly complex build, but the transitions around it were a bit awkward for my tastes. especially the turn around, why did they even show that at all? you have control over what the audience sees, you can totally not show scenic transitions. skz were super smart about hiding theirs in last week’s episode.

also if you have a bigass puppet like that, i wanna see some more movement from it! it doesn’t have to be complex, we literally just saw a kraken balloon arm wave around aimlessly, but at least there was movement! that snake had a long ass body, why didn’t they at least take a pseudo dragon dance movement with it, that would have been such fun to watch with the iridescent scales. there was a lot of opportunity here!

lighting

i don’t hate it but also.... not a lot to say about it on the whole.

there were two really smart ideas here, the first being the front projection section, which i was SO glad to see! i explained in a previous review, but the projections in kingdom are not actually projections per se, because they’re actually massive led screens. there are two common types of projections in performance, rear projection and front projection. rear projection is when the projector is behind the screen, and front projection is ‘normal’ projection. rear projection can produce a crisper image because you have full control of the light values, because the projector is in a separate room from the performance space. but the downsides are that the projector has to be in a separate room from the performance space. so if you’re short on real estate, it's not ideal. front projection is much more common, because the tech is a lot cheaper and easier to access, especially now, and it requires less real estate because you can ceiling mount about the audience (you can move a projector wherever, this is just the most common spot in commercial theatres). but! in order to get an actually crisp image, you have to be really careful with your light bounce. it’s exactly the same principle as how you kinda can't see a projected screen when you have all the lights turned on, but when you turn them off it's a lot clearer. front projection works best in pitch dark, so when you use it in a theatre you gotta be smart about it. i use front projection a lot in my personal art practice as a singular light source, and that’s what tbz did here in that traveling/snake intro sequence. it’s a really fun technique that they used as a good gimmick because it’s not something we’ve seen before, and you get some great shadow effects because the projector is throwing light directionally at the performers (they have it set up close to the floor, it’s probably on a wheeled cart of some kind). however i did not like the snake intro. a bit too cheesy and out of place, especially because the asset quality didn’t match the rest of landscapes that we have been seeing.

the second smart idea, which is partially also a set and blocking thing but whatever, was that final image of the eclipse within the circle architecture with all the members standing in front of it. it was a great shot and a great ending pose, but it felt like a concept photo. like someone had that image as the idea that they then built the stage around, instead of a narrative first and then imagery after.

sound

this remix had SO much promise! those first two minutes were SO GOOD. i love that dirty discordant strings bit, it's gross and right up my alley. but it really fell off in the back half and i'm sad about that.

staging

i'm sorry tbz but.....what did you actually do differently than exo here? with the exception of the continual game of thrones references? nothing here felt transcendentally different from the original monster. and especially coming RIGHT after sf9’s move, which did go beyond its original context. this feels more like an awards show stage cover than a stage at the level of the others we’ve seen just this episode.

again like with the skz stage, there’s no conflict here. no tension. yes they do a great job covering the dance but it just isn’t enough! this is obviously personal preference and i'm sure lots of people liked the fact that it was uncomplicated, but even just a hint of narrative tension could have pushed this into more engaging territory. and if they didn’t want to do that, i would have loved to see them make up for that with extra visual spectacle. this is the no limits round! ikon is putting a full jungle on stage and these are grey cubes!

i think this is a perfect example of what i talked about at the end of my tbz section in my episode four review; this is a good performance, there are good elements at play and good ideas at their genesis, but the core of the issue is that nothing about this is transformative. all of the ideas here are just exaggerations of the original song. fuck, the snake was even IN the mv! and they didn’t even include the best part which is the lip chains! ive said before and i'll say it again; being a good artist has two steps, the first is understanding the material and its context, and the second is elevating the material from that context and synthesizing something new. tbz are really good at the first step, but terrible at the second.

---

ranking

btob - the cleanest and the most fun of the round. everything i wanted.

sf9 - fun and a good cover, despite being conceptually baffling.

ateez - very extra dramatic nonsense with an unexpected dose of sincerity. and it’s rock opera, of course i love it.

skz - fun, with some good thematic devices but generally lacking in arc. also australian accents, that’s an automatic ding.

tbz - honestly the first two minutes of the remix and the costume are holding this above 6th. it just wasn’t fully formed.

ikon - aesthetically this is a great set design and although i do love the opening and closing moments, everything else scrapes me the wrong way. super personal preference here, i’m not expecting anyone else to agree with me.

i feel like my rankings were probably pretty easy to guess if you’ve been around reading the reviews for long enough. i do have very specific tastes after all. i know sf9 ranked first in the episode but i have no idea what the other slots are. i’ll find out when i watch the episode in a couple of days, but i think yea a first for sf9 is fair. i do think its mostly because it’s a taemin song and you have to do something horrendous in order to fuck up a taemin song, but there is a lot of thought and work that went into that stage.

ok i'm done now, sorry this was later than usual, but i was busier and there were four stages that i had to review. also technical difficulties because tumblr is a garbage platform and nothing works properly. comments/questions/opinions always welcome, i know i didn't expand on a couple of points that i could have so hopefully y'all have some thoughts too!

* the type of hat that ~society~ has told you is a fedora is actually a trilby. what peniel is wearing is a real fedora, i felt the need to correct this unjust hat malignment.

** meaning ‘the appearance of being true or real.’ you do sometimes hear it used by normal people, but it’s more commonly used as a descriptor in film and theatre. it’s also one of the five rules of neoclassical theatre, which are: versimilitude, purity of form, five act structure, decorum, and purpose. the most prominent playwrights from that era are moliere and racine if youre interested in what those look like in an actual text.

#kingdom #kingdom review #btob #ateez #stray kids #the boyz #sf9 #tumblr is so broken it would NOT let me save this as a draft #does my constant hyperlinking make you angry tumblr? too bad im gonna keep doing it #i played in a jazz band in school for seven years #which is another indicator as to why i am like this #one of the first songs i remember learning was zoot suit riot #i have very strong memories of yelling RIOT during performances #i will however forever question the logic of our band teacher making us learn a song written by 'the cherry poppin daddies'#christ on a bicycle this is TEN pages #and it took a full eight hours last night and then i did like two hours of editing after i woke up #maybe i should go back to bed #ah i forgot to tag ikon again lmao #ikon #kpop analysis #text #if there are any spelling errrors do not tell me im tired of reading this #im pretty sure this is my longest review so far i decided to hate myself and did a wordcount #its 5.2K you're welcome you better get a snack for this one #i hope this is an interesting read for people ive lost all objectivity at this point #pls enjoy my semi-comprehensible word vomit!

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

imitheos. (oikawa tooru)

➵ oikawa barely recognises the god he used to be.

wc: 3.8k

warnings: gn!reader, greek god au, melancholia? angst? is that something to warn people about?

a/n: so this got away from me, and ended up half a character study, but,,, @kacchand (sorry for tagging this one but i couldn’t tag @kacchand-archive aa) thank you so much for the warm, lovely things you’ve said to me ever since stumbling across my blog, and for complimenting my oikawa specifically. it’s those sorts of compliments that makes me feel all soft!

Oikawa Tooru. He’s still not sure of the name. He never chooses them himself; they come to him, quite naturally, each time he assumes a new form. Each time he knits himself a backstory, he wonders what this life will bring. If it will be better than the last.

He hasn’t always been Oikawa Tooru. He’s been many other forms littered throughout history, recycling the same ego. And before each of those, he was Apollo.

Apollo had been a god amongst gods, deity of so much and so many. He could absolve men of guilt, gift mortals with the power of prophecy, balance their lives in his hands as he commanded the fate of their crops. Even the gods feared him, loved him, revered him.

But he is no longer Apollo. He is a whisper of him, a half-forgotten shadow.

His old name is everywhere. Rocket ships, theatres, philosophical concepts. He’s watched countless effigies to his old self shoot themselves into the sky, chasing a distance once thought unreachable. They always seem to take the light with them, blazing into the darkness.

But Apollo is just a name, now. Everything he used to symbolise seems to pass through him like white smoke.

It’s so hard to find the light in this endless winter.

Archery is just a niche hobby, now. Wars are won through other means.

Disease and the means to combat it are far past his sphere of influence now. Both continue to take on new and frightening forms that even he couldn’t conjure.

There is no space in this world for prophecy anymore. Such things are considered untruths, the trade of hackneyed swindlers masquerading as fortune tellers.

But poetry. Poetry refuses to die.

Sunday afternoon. The sky is already dark. Slam poetry night at a dingy little coffee shop. He’s sat in his usual spot, a dark corner that grants him a clear view of the makeshift stage at the back of the shop. It’s the best spot to melt away into, to become a true observer.

He’s not sure why he’s come here. The coffee itself isn’t particularly good, nor is the atmosphere of the place much to his liking. It’s a little dingy, reliant on weak oil lamps for light. He knows that it’s supposed to give off a retro vibe, but he thinks it just makes it miserable. There’s the smell of musk too, permeated through both wood and cushion.

But something is drawing him to this place. Something, beating against the fabric of the universe, is telling him that this is where he’s supposed to be.

He still doesn’t know why.

You smile at him from across the room, giving him a small wave. You usually work Sunday afternoons, right until close. He isn’t sure of your name, and usually, he wouldn’t care.

But every Sunday, you seem to take it upon yourself to fulfil his orders. Once upon a time, he would’ve been sure that it was his charm that induced you to do so; mortals often found it hard to resist the gods, after all. But he’s not so sure he can still claim that allure.

“You’re becoming a bit of a regular,” you smile, setting his drink down in front of him. Something made with honey, but he’s not sure what. He never pays much attention when he orders.

Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You’re always here on Sundays,” you nod, daring to meet his gaze. “But you’ve never performed yourself.”

Oikawa smiles. One person, at the very least, has noticed his existence. That’s as powerful as a prayer these days.

“I take it you’re a fan,” you remark, eyes scanning his face.

Oikawa nods. “You could say that.”

You smile. It’s small, and he wonders if it’s merely a nicety. “Of slam poetry in particular, or…”

Ah. Yes.

He wants to say it’s because he’s tired of typical poetry. Tired of all its embellishments and platitudes. Slam poetry is newer, younger, angrier. There’s a rawness to it, a rage that speaks to something more visceral in him. Pretty words are not enough anymore.

It’s an offering of something else, of a yearning he still struggles to place. It’s a call for something better, for change, for vindication.

But he won’t bore you with that. You’re just a waiter, making small talk to be polite.

“My preferences change often,” he shrugs.

He appraises you for a moment, clad in a button-up shirt and dress trousers, a charmingly small apron wrapped around your waist. He’s not paid you much mind before; maybe because he’s been looking too hard.

He once thought that this café was drawing him towards a modern muse, an echo of Melpomene. Or perhaps Erato? But it hadn’t been that at all. It had been a call to draw him to you.

For what, he can’t say. But this small moment, this little recognition in the back of a dingy coffee shop on a dour Sunday afternoon in the midst of winter, is the closest he’s felt to worship in aeons.

He fears, for a moment, that you might be Daphne. Or maybe Marpessa. He’s already lost another Hyacinth; not to death, but to the rhythm of life. The pull of a world to which Oikawa couldn’t follow. How long had it been since Hajime left?

Oikawa can’t say.

But he’s been so lonely. So faded.

Whoever you are, whoever you were, does not matter.

What matters is that you’re the first person in a very long time who can see him.

☉ ☉ ☉

“Back again,” you smile. Another drink with honey is placed in front of him. It’s the only thing he’s been ordering for the past few weeks.

He nods, looking up at you with a smile. He knows it’s dead behind the eyes, but he’s trying. He hopes, quietly, that the darkness will mask it.

“You must really enjoy the poetry,” you remark, looking over your shoulder.

One girl has just finished, face flushed with both nervousness and pride. She is young, perhaps barely seventeen, but with the fury of someone who knows too much about the horrors of the world. She’d done quite well by Oikawa’s account. He hadn’t derived much joy from it, but she certainly has potential.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, taking a sip of his drink.

“Do you prefer more…” You pause, brow furrowed as you search for the words. “Traditional poetry?”

Oikawa shakes his head.

Perhaps his tastes would err more to the modern, if he knew more about it. But the fact of the matter is that he simply doesn’t have a clue. Too much time spent with volleyball preoccupying most of his thoughts, and very little time keeping up with the artistic scene of the last decade and a half.

He can’t speak as an expert. But he can speak as the god who invented poetry, who gave mortals the means with which to express their magnitudes. A gift, he’d said. To turn the human experience into something beautiful. But was it for them, or for him?

“The anger is sincere,” he muses, “And they all seem to have poured their soul into their poems.”

You nod, smiling at him. “I wish I was that creative, at their age.”

He looks at you. You look about the same age he should be; twenty-something, maybe? Young, perhaps still in university.

You’ve been spending your breaks with him for a few weeks now.

He doesn’t mind; in fact, he enjoys the company. And, you seem to care about what he has to say, which certainly fluffs his ego.

Why you would care so much about an odd, discreet man sitting in a dark corner of a coffee shop is beyond him.

But he wants to know why. Know more about you. What you love. What you desire.

“What do you want to do with your life?”

The question is sudden, perhaps a bit invasive. It flies from his lips before he has time to reassess it, to craft it into something a bit less intense. He fears, for a moment, that it might scare you – that it might be a bit too much.

But you laugh, tilting your head at him. “That’s a bit of a big question, don’t you think?”

He smiles. “You must have some idea.”

You sigh, shrugging. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I need to survive university before I can start worrying about that sort of stuff.”

He hums.

“What about you?” You ask, polite smile gracing your lips.

He bites the inside of his cheek, his brows creasing. “Not sure.”

He might have dreamed of greatness a while ago. He would’ve chased volleyball, brilliant and vibrant as he was.

Who would have thought that Apollo would find his heart in something so coarse as sport? For a moment, however brief, he’d felt like he might be able to shrug off this immortal shackle. To exist for himself, and not as a mere echo reliant on mortal belief. To maybe, finally, have a chance to live as he wanted to, dictated by his own desires.

That last spark of vibrant humanity had spluttered out the day they lost that one fateful match.

He had wanted to chase his own dreams, the tangible passions he’d discovered as a mortal. He hadn’t wanted to be this, a pathetic half-god that was fading into the grey. But that was the trappings of his dying godhood – a life half-lived, a dream unfulfilled. Where would he be, if he had been able to take on the world as Oikawa Tooru?

Happier, he supposes. Though, he can’t be sure. Because maybe this early evening, grey and cold and bitter, almost tastes like happiness. Almost. And he knows why.

☉ ☉ ☉

There’s a glow to him. He doesn’t notice it; he’s been brighter in the past, blindingly radiant. He was once considered the most beautiful of the gods for a reason.

But to you, this distant, peculiar man is beautiful. There’s something of a fallen giant to him; is he the sort of person whose glory days has long since passed? Had he been a high school hero maybe?

There’s something else to him, too. Something strange. Something esoteric.

You don’t quite know how to explain it.

It’s like he’s asking – no, begging someone to acknowledge him. To breathe new life into him.

And for all his strange, aggressive indifference, there’s a little flame in him. One that seems like it’s been burning for centuries, too stubborn to flicker out.

You haven’t missed how it’s getting brighter.

He only comes in on Sundays, staying from three until eight. If his prolonged presence bothers your co-workers, they don’t mention it.

Perhaps it’s silly to be so fascinated by a complete stranger, especially one that simply sits in a corner and watches. Perhaps it is even sillier to spend your breaks with him. But it’s as if you can’t help yourself; something pulls you towards him, even if you don’t understand it.

“What about the Greeks?” You ask one evening, sitting next to him in his booth.

His smile is bemused at best. “What about them?”

“Well… they’re classics,” you muse, “Are you a fan, or…?”

“Homer can suck my dick,” Oikawa grumbles. He never quite forgave that man for the unflattering portrait of his godliness.

You laugh. There’s an echo of a lyre in it. He wonders, for a moment, what you might look like with a laurel woven through your hair, smiling on a Pierian coast in the height of a blistering summer.

He doesn’t let his mind wander too far.

“I’m not really one for poetry,” you murmur, looking down at your hands.

“Is that so?” Oikawa smiles, taking a sip of his coffee. It’s lukewarm after sitting on the table for so long, but he doesn’t mind.

You shake your head. “I find it difficult to wrap my head around. It makes me feel kind of stupid.”

He nods. He used to understand poetry so well – in the darkest of nights, it was often the only thing he understood. It used to be laced with his very being, threaded through his body like veins. But now, it just fills him with bitterness.

“I like the classics, though,” you smile softly, playing with your fingers. “There’s something about the simplicity and straightforwardness of the language that appeal to me. And, I don’t know…” You bite your lip. “Some emotions seem to transcend time and culture. And some of the classics are so… raw. So… human.”

‘Human.’ He gazes at you, that word in particular playing over in his mind. There’s some truth in the classics, he supposes. Something in them that echoes across the centuries. But he’s been around far too long to care for patterns and parallels.

“Sorry,” you blush, smoothing your apron. “I must be boring you.”

“Not at all.” Oikawa shakes his head, leaning towards you. He takes another sip of his coffee. It’s cold now. “So, you’re a history buff, then?”

Maybe you are Clio, after all.

You shrug. “Only ancient history, really. But I haven’t read as much about it as I should’ve.”

“Are you a fan of the myths?” He asks, a playful lilt to his voice. He knows you won’t get the joke, but he doesn’t mind.

“Some,” you nod. “Why?”

“Know any about Apollo?”

“Apollo?” You smile. His old name sounds like a melody on your lips. “As in the god?”

“Sure.” Who else could he mean?

You pause for a moment, pressing your lips together. It’s a beautiful silence.

“Have you read Plato’s Symposium, by any chance?” You ask, gaze meeting his.

He nods. He doesn’t mind Plato; the man had been grateful for the gift of music, after all.

“There’s a story in it I really like,” you murmur, eyes turning towards the roof. “Well, it’s more of a myth, but… it’s the one about soulmates.”

“Oh?”

“Do you know it?”

“Vaguely.” Of course he knows it. He just wants to hear it retold in your voice.

“Well, alright,” you clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter. “There were three kinds of humans, descended from the sun, the earth and the moon. All had four arms and four legs, two faces, et cetera. But, the gods felt they were too unruly and powerful. By Zeus’ count, this was unacceptable, and he wanted to humble them.”

Oikawa hopes his expression is neutral enough. How is Zeus? Is he still around?

“Instead of simply destroying them, he split them in two,” you continue. “And that made us miserable.”

Your use of the word ‘us’ intrigues him, but he wants to save his questions for later.

“But, Apollo took pity on us,” you smile. “He decided to patch us up, and shape us into, well… the form we have today. The story goes that our navel is where he sewed our broken skin together. But he turned our heads around to what had once been our back, so we’d have to look at that mark as a reminder of our punishment and how incomplete we are.”

It does not matter to him if there is any truth in this story. Regardless, it certainly sounds like the folly of the gods.

“Once we were split, the two halves were flung to the far ends of the earth. From then on, each of us yearns with both body and soul to be reunited with our other half.” Your voice is so lyrical, so comforting. It is, perhaps, the closest thing to music he’s heard in a while. “Those of us who are lucky enough to find them supposedly know no greater joy. We’ll never feel so understood, so complete. Most of us though, will never know that joy.”

Perhaps the gods didn’t deserve the reverence they got. Perhaps they really had been tyrants, all along. But then again, there was little love between gods and mortals; if anything, worship was simply a reflection of the fears the divine inspired.

A new question itches at the back of his mind.

“Do you believe in life after death?” He asks.

You blink at him, eyes wide and round. “Well, I… I don’t know, really.”

He knows it’s a heavy question. He knows that he didn’t prepare you for it, and that it’s only tenuously connected to the conversation at hand. But, he always found that people were at their most honest when they were caught off guard.

“I don’t like thinking about it,” you admit, looking down at your hands. “It makes me all existential.”

Oikawa nods. Most humans react like this.

The relationship between mortals and death has always fascinated him. Fear, loathing, regret. It’s all bundled together. Sometimes, there is comfort. Sometimes, there is a sense of calm. But it is never easy to face the unknown, after such a brief stint of being alive.

It’s something he cannot understand in this existence of his that stretches itself thin across the millenniums.

What is death to a god? He imagines it must be something like relief.

☉ ☉ ☉

“Do you write yourself?” It’s a little question, one he knows was coming.

He doesn’t know how to answer.

You sit next to him in the lamplight, eyes sparkling as they always do. If he was more human, maybe he would compare them to the stars. Or perhaps the ocean after a storm. But he is not human, much less a poet.

How does he say that he’s never needed to? That his patronage, his presence alone was enough to inspire those classics you so dearly love? That he himself has never put lyrics to the human experience?

He has always been a god. There is no beauty to his experience; only in those small pockets of human intimacy he’s been granted across the centuries. There is no beauty to the life of a god – only fire, and fury, and hubris. Even his body is unlike yours; he has no heart, and he bleeds ichor.

“Not really,” he shrugs. It’s all he can say.

“‘Not really’ implies that you write at least a little,” you smile, leaning towards him.

He shakes his head. “I didn��t really have time to do something like that.” He pauses for a moment. Should he tell you? Should he reveal more of himself than is maybe wise? “I played volleyball in high school.”

“Oh, really?” You ask, tilting your head at him.

“I was good, too,” he sighs, brow furrowing. “But my team never made it to nationals.”

“Oh.” You look genuinely sad. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. There’s little else to do.

“I wanted to go further,” he admits. The lamplight casts a long shadow on his face, each feature soft and delicate as marble.

Each form, each reiteration, wants more.

So much of what he’s done this time doesn’t echo the traditional Apollonian figure. There is no art, this time. No song.

There was drama in sport, but it was different. It had filled him with a passion he’d never felt before, beating in his chest just like a heart would. It provided that rush of adrenaline, the brutal awareness of the importance of just one moment. Eternity stretches on forever for a god, but a game must end. Perhaps, in some way, death is very much the same.

He wants that closure. That passion for the now.

Now, more than ever before, he wants to be mortal. To lose himself in the storm that is being human – he wants it all. He wants to let go of the god he no longer is.

Where does Apollo end? Where does Oikawa Tooru begin?

☉ ☉ ☉

Time is passing again. Each day is over before it’s even begun, slipping through his fingers like a lucid dream. A heartbeat that isn’t his own thrums in his ears, quick and loud and frantic.

And yet, he finds himself outside the coffee shop, standing on the curb. You’re next to him, hands dug deep in your pockets. He’s arrived earlier than usual, catching you right at the beginning of your shift.

There’s something he wants – no, needs to say. Something that can’t wait.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, looking up at the sky. It’s pale, a shade found in-between blue and grey. A perfect winter sky, one you might find on a postcard trying to capture the beauty of the season.

Something is pressing on his chest, heavy and immovable. It feels like a goodbye.

“What for?” You laugh. It really is a delightful sound.

Where to begin? You couldn’t possibly comprehend it. Nor would you believe him. If he speaks too frankly, you may not remember him fondly.

“For the coffee,” he says.

There’s more he wants to say. Something about how, maybe, in another life, there could have been something more between the two of you. Something quite beautiful.

But he knows it’s wiser not to speak that into being. If you feel even a modicum of these emotions, then silence would be an act of kindness.

“Are you… going somewhere?” You ask, all signs of levity gone from your face. He regrets speaking at all now.

“Something like that,” he murmurs. It’s the closest he can get to the truth.

A long silence ensues. Oikawa doesn’t know if he should try to fill it; perhaps he should just let it sit for a while? To enjoy this little moment with you, standing with you in front of a dingy coffee shop on a dour Sunday night in the midst of winter.

Because this moment cannot last. Because nothing can.

“Well,” you clear your throat, eyes lingering on his face, as if you’re committing each detail to memory.

He smiles at you. He’s not aware of it, but it’s almost blinding. It brings a warmth to his face that you’ve never seen before, a warmth that makes him so striking, so beautiful, that you know you won’t be able to find the words to praise it.

“I hope I’ll see you again,” you murmur. It’s the best you can manage, keeping your feelings in your heart as best you can.

“Me too.”

He means it.

It’s time to go. Where, he’s not sure. But, with all the courage he could muster, he turns his back to you, making his way down the street.

There’s a space in his heart for fear. But it’s empty. Whatever’s coming, whatever’s about to change – he’s ready for it.

He welcomes it.

☉ ☉ ☉

He opens his eyes. He’s tangled in blankets; his own, or someone else’s?

One thought.

My name is Oikawa Tooru.

In the haze of a Sunday morning, he knows nothing else. His eyes flick to the blinds as they flutter with the wind that whispers through his window.

The light floods in.

It’s finally spring.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa toru x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #oikawa imagine #oikawa tooru imagine #haikyuucreations #this was a labour of love #it's different from my usual style but i enjoyed it

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