3rd year Hinata? 3rd year Hinata. I was enjoying emuyh-art’s third year headcanons, and since there was a clear lack of Hinata in her tag, I decided that I needed to draw it (please note that hinata, unlike the captains, was not fortunate enough to be beautiful until the very end of third year, poor sunshine child)
ALSO READING GLASSES, his far sight is so good that when things get really close they get blurry, he didn’t read enough books as a child
OKAY BRO YOU ASKED FOR THIS. YOU ASKED FOR THE SAP. Andy. My bro. My soupmate. Uhm. HOW TO START when there are So many good things about you. Well first off, I think you’re one of the most positive influences in my life. Like, when I was feeling down about other things or other friends or just personal baggage you were always that little island that I could go to to just breathe?? And feel better. Even if we weren’t talking about much. I think the reason so many people love you is because there’s just so much to love. You’re super sweet and kind and you’re funny and playful and you’re always needlessly worrying about how you word things just so that you don’t come across the wrong way and accidentally hurt someone. You trip a lot, often in public, and that’s adorable although I hope you don’t ever actually get injured. I’ve always liked the winter but you remind me of the spring and the summer and the sunny mornings and sparkling oceans and the sense of careless freedom without the stress of school. I’ve said this before but meeting you was one of the Best things to happen to me. I don’t really make close friends often (I literally have 2 other best friends that I’ve known for 9 years and 6 years respectively) so when we first started talking I didn’t really Expect anything but then we kept talking and you’re just so easy to talk to and it’s so comfortable talking to you and !! I was never one to say I love you to my friends or every really be outwardly sappy or affectionate I always found it uncomfortable and stilted but idk I can do that you now like it’s second nature. You’re the best bro if I could send you lil paper hearts I’d fill your house with them
❝ Darling, here the gods died, here the horsemen tremble, here we bathe in gasoline come, join us in our garden of dead bodies, we’re having fire for lunch.❞
Charles Zerilli | twenty-four (III) | The Riot Club | Bob Morley | open Charles Zerilli walked into life with company, and for that, he never learned how to be alone, never tasted the poison of solitude, never had to worry about watching his back. How could he, when he had been lectured, from his toddler days, that family was everything and when his mother has been by his side, holding both his and Charlotte’s hands in hers, with every step he took? All of his kindergarten drawings told the same story: the perfect family portrait covered sunshine — and only a long time later did he get to see the rest of the picture. To his surprise, the secret his parents have been keeping from both him and Charlotte hadn’t been that they loved each other any less, or that the two children have been picked up, six years ago, from the orphanage. To his surprise, the secret he had to wait until he knew how to tie his own shoes in order to be told had nothing to do with their state of happiness and harmony, but was just the explanation of the strange looking men surrounding papa. Apparently, one day he woke up being the heir of a Detroit Mafia sotto capo and he had that term and its spelling memorized and everybody bowing before him long before he understood what it meant. Charlie grew up with the outsole of his shoes glued to that world, deeply rooted and with a brain that filtered good moves and strategies from bad ever from the very start. Because he, unlike his younger twin sister, had an open heart to learn and listen and because the blood reddening his veins belonged to his father. Ever since the moment Charlie met the family consigliere — the first handshake he would remember — they knew he would dress in white suits and take the place of his father one day.
Wrong. Although blessed with potential and a mind for the kind of business his family name was involved in, Charles prefers a good joke to a gun fight and has never been anything but peace. Although the Mafia world never ceased to fascinate him, as his childhood playground, even after having been given guns to play with at his request and almost shooting Charlotte, and after watching half of his teenage years passing by his father in the office, the man doesn’t need signs to tell him that he isn’t suited for the job, despite pretending to be in front of his family. They don’t need more disappoint from him and he will be, one day, because no Zerilli firstborn skips the throne built on bullets, but having been spoiled and never taken out of his comfort zone — because the entire world is Charlie’s comfort zone and nothing in the world makes him feel uncomfortable — made him slower. As much as he wants to take on the family legacy, he knows he is too lighthearted, too sweet and careless to tie a tie around his neck and look for deeper meanings in his partners’ words, suspecting what is to suspect and keeping forgiveness for only the worthy. Simply put, he would get shot trying to buy some fruit. He doesn’t have time for hate, for negative energy and for trouble — the only thing worth his while being the entertainment behind a pint of cold beer and something buzzing to pop with it. His life style doesn’t bother him, howsoever, and the fact that it interferes with his studies leaves him indifferent, as he never wanted to go to university to begin with — it was papa’s wish for his children to go as far in life as possible, but Charlie, the boy, tripped over the threshold of their home and didn’t care to have a respectable career, unlike Charlotte, who would have got into Oxford even without her father’s connections and pressure putting.
They aren’t bad people: Charles can kneel before anybody, grab their hands and press his thumbs into their knuckles with belief enough to create holes, and swear to God that they are kind and good people anybody would be lucky to encounter with — but nobody brings up the rumors whispered in the dark about the situation back home of the twins and nobody risks to find out how warm their hearts truly are. No matter what would garantee, the only thing certain in his promises is that his own heart is in the right place, not the others’ too. Being decent, howsoever, isn’t painting a red target on his forehead, coloring him all stupid from head to toe, because his gentleness and friendly behavior aren’t his weakness rather than what is keeping him objective and genuine.
He treats all life like a constant invitation to party after party, knowing no definitions for words like consequences and trying his best to enjoy every gulp of alcohol and every drag of his joint. Yet, the epitome of a fraternity boy is lucky enough to have left out the cruel boy spark from his eyes — as he isn’t using his ‘best party planner on campus’ title dulling the alcohol tolerance of pretty girls and trying to hunt them down after they’ve had a little more than they can carry. On the contrary, growing up with a sister to look out for turned him responsible at least in that aspect, even though he doesn’t actively realize it and believes that bringing a girl a glass of water after shots of tequila and whispering in her ear advice about fixing her skirt and taking care are the least he could do. Yet, the gentleman can do plenty of wrong during summer breaks, when he returns home in the United States and joins his father on his business errands, trying to pick up gangster mannerism and become the perfect substitute for his father. Marc Arkwright Marc never liked Charlie-boy — never because of anything in particular, but always for some hidden reason that kept stepping on his toes and causing the older male to get annoyed at Charlie’s slightest gesture. Something just seems off to him about him, even though there is no concrete fact or explanation, but that didn’t stop him from jumping to conclusions based on thin air. The fact that Marc cares too little about him to actually pay attention to anything past his anger only makes it worse, because he doesn’t know the person he claims he is hating. The fact that the other man takes it all as a joke and laughs derisively at his frowns intensifies the tension. When Elizabeth started hanging out with Charlie’s closest friends, him included, the reason Marc was desperately looking for to have the right to hate Charlie found him. To this day, he believes that Charlie was trying to steal his girlfriend away from him, if not, has succeeded to, and holds deep grudge, leaving the Zerilli heir confused. And no one at all is better at holding grudges than Marc Arkwright.
Aria Bellefonte They both find it hilarious — their best inside joke, really — that Charlie fell in love with Aria, so they often laugh at it, as it is a very casual topic of discussion for the both of them. He’s not affected and she’s not bothered; as easy as that. They can’t afford to treat it any other way, seeing as Aria and the twins are a compact group, knowing everything about each other, including their deepest secrets, hidden fears and, most of times, predicting each others’ reactions, and neither wants the dynamic to change or to have Charlotte be caught in the middle of any kind of silly drama. Charlie isn’t bitter about it, liking their relationship the way it is and not minding Aria’s coldness, but, on the contrary, understanding it, given the circumstances. Frankly, if he had a choice, he would just stop loving her, because it tangles everything together, but the best he can do for now is dismiss his feelings and laugh them off until they become a joke.
Charlotte Zerilli No matter how many girls pass through Charles’ heart, Charlotte is the only constant in his life and their connection is so strong that he doesn’t need to tell her that — as if she can read his thoughts to make sure of it. She is his only weakness and he is her most solid strength, and, looking at them, all the twin stereotypes come true. Although, personality speaking, they are nothing alike, the Charlies are in perfect harmony. Although Charlotte isn’t certain of too many things in her life, she is certain of her brother and everything he means to her — and needless is it to say that the feeling is mutual. When it comes to potential, he sees hers like through a transparent glass and believes in nothing, not even God, more than he believes in her ability to untie links with their family name and start fresh a walk down the path to success. It saddens him to see Charlotte heading such a different direction, but there is nothing he wants more than her happiness.
Cordelia McQueen On a regular basis, this girl shows no emotion and is known for a passive, lost in space stare that nobody can reach under and cut off, even in conversations, but Charlie caught her in a delicate moment, during one of the infamous weekly parties and she poured her heart out and all of her sadness, almost enough to drown him. Ever since, he obliged, despite her insistence to just forget it, and became her confidant and friend, no matter how much she fought the idea at first. After all, they have nothing in common, but the man can make friends out of thin air and find a connection in everybody, even the ice queen of the campus. Nobody knows about their friendship, but it ironically and weirdly enough is one of the only things keeping Cordelia floating.
❝ You can carry a knife and still trust everyone carry it in your mouth everytime you open it we await the sharpening noise of worship.❞
Jamie Heather | twenty-one (II) | The Riot Club | Chace Crawford | taken Oxford doesn’t really know what really hides under Jamie Heather’s skin, for he is more often than not lingering in the shadows. Who is and who isn’t a part of the Riot Club is a mystery to outsiders, and for that, some don’t even believe he is included in it, let alone in lead. That every shallow assumption touches Jamie’s ego is implied, but he doesn’t let it get to him, shrugging theatrically and pretending it is all part of a plan. While his imagination had created a different kind of picture of the next few years as he was packing for university, he knows how to be resourceful and those who know him closely are also aware of the fact that he hadn’t lost his touch and become erasable. His initial intention was to make a boom out of his arrival and make everybody learn and remember his name — Lauren’s too — through childish, yet effective pranks and jokes taken to an extreme, but as soon as the girl took a step back to redeem herself and paint herself in a new light, with a new sort of reputation, Jamie figured out the smart move wasn’t to be a lone wolf and get acknowledged for that, but to not get acknowledged at all. That would spare him the warnings and penalties he had to deal with in high school — the ones his father paid so well to have deleted from his record so Oxford wouldn’t pretend his application wasn’t good enough only because of his disciplinary problems. Maintaining a low profile was going to be difficult for somebody who spent his whole life in the starring role, and as an intelligent person, he knew exactly what he was getting himself into, but he eventually learned. After all, Lauren had initiated the ‘pretending’ game and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to play a good one. He tries not to mind being considered irrelevant and often over-looked, because he knows he is anything but.
The Riot Club, on the other hand, isn’t so unimpressed with the shadow that once was a high-school star, because he has proven to be nothing but a stylish, eloquent and calculated leader — a voice of reason, endlessly calm and relaxed, therefore something a group of wild young adults need badly. It’s not that he is any more mature than the average childish, spoiled, rich boy, but that he knows how to act his part. In fact, he is anything but that. Jamie has never learned how to grow up to begin with, because he did not have to, stuck in a world where everything goes like clockwork and everybody is dancing to whatever tune he is playing. Although intelligent enough to acknowledge where he is wrong and how a certain mistake he just made could affect not only his reputation, but his freedom legally, he can’t help but keep playing with fire boldly, to the point where it’s the last solution he has left in order not to burn. Yet, after a lifetime of getting away with everything miraculously, how much can one rely on luck and the hope that nothing will change? He is on the edge and the worst part of it all is that he wouldn’t have liked it any other way, seeking trouble as if air tasted sweeter only after he knew there is something he can lose about his comfort at any minute, something he would feel the absence of.
Afraid of cliches to the point where he would twist his entire personality upside down to avoid one, he has always tried to be the most challenging version of himself he could be, knowing what a great advantage being unpredictable is. Except that, lately, unpredictable has become the new predictable and he can’t solve the paradox that he has become. Nothing is entertaining anymore and days seem to grow paler and paler without a new game to risk on. Lauren Hastings They used to be the platonic Bonnie and Clyde everybody in their high-school back in Brighton felt threatened by, and, the way Jamie used to see it, they should have been just as feared in Oxford, though the university changed Lauren instead of it being the other way around. She told him from the very start that it was a new beginning she wouldn’t waste on old habits and though it broke his heart, he didn’t try to change her mind, hoping that it would change on its own in time. Two years later, she is still clinging to a doll version of herself that Jamie can’t stand. Howsoever, the young man is not the only one with a heart that’s shattered into pieces. Lauren has always had a crush on her best friend — the only secret they have ever kept from each other. She is unaware of the fact that he is aware, but chose to act, for once, oblivious, not necessarily because he loves Lauren strictly like a sister, but because he respects her too much to let what is between them get messy.
Marc Arkwright As the only person Marc would be able to focus on for more than half a minute, Jamie knows what buttons to push and how to talk to his good friend so he would stop before making the situation worse. Their talks — soaked in old whiskey neither can really hold, mixed with sports, politics, goals, and strategies— usually end with them agreeing with each other, and because Marc’s recklessness fits Jamie’s calmness perfectly. Their friendship goes on, influenced by the balance they achieve as a duo, although they don’t have the slightest thing in common.
Gwendolyn Armstrong It all started with politics, a long time before either of them even considered sending their college applications to Oxford: a talk with a promising beginning about techniques and goals, ridiculous and passionate, since they weren’t seventeen yet — and they clicked and hit it off right away. A summer fling between two people who are too alike to be allowed in the same room, starting like a proper chick flick, sweet and right, and turning into a destructive relationship, filled with manipulation and jealousy — ultimately taking the form of a sick chess game, ended disastrously and left them both empty and with hard feelings. Now neither mentions their past, keeping it locked up, secret, hidden, but the game never stopped. They are each other’s mirror, standing still and tall in the opposite side and never looking in the same direction. Opposite poles who have done nothing since but clash and contradict each other vehemently and irrationally; more than anything, they challenge and provoke one another. It wasn’t until Jamie took the lead in the Riot Club that she launched her own version of it, starting a competition of a whole new level.
Miles Kenilsworth If there is one thing that Jamie hates about himself, it’s the weakness he has for people who hate themselves. The hero complex made him get close to Miles to begin with, because the boy is a lost cause, and ever since, he’s been chasing, feeling more and more stupid by the day. He is doing his best to give the other boy confidence, no matter what it takes. Miles can see what Jamie’s intentions are and he lets him do his part, knowing apathetically at the end of the day that it won’t change a thing. If it’s just attraction or more, the blond can’t tell because he doesn’t pay enough attention, but it certainly frustrates Jamie enough to keep trying to get something out of it.
dedicated to the rich, arrogant assholes that are harry villiers and alistair ryle and the undeniable love they quite undoubtedly share
i. lonely boy - the black keys / ii. love the way you lie - colton dixon (cover) / iii. memo - years & years / iv. my heroine - the maine / v. 505 - arctic monkeys / vi. toxic (cestladore remix) - melanie martinez (cover) / vii. same old same old - the civil wars / viii. take shelter (unplugged) - years & years