#I'll probably post this to ao3 too but it needs a polish first I think

[adhd-merlin]

in all ways but one

Relationships: Arthur/Lancelot; background Arthur/Gwen Rating: Gen Length: 2,500 words Summary: The homosexual side of the classic Arthurian love triangle, featuring jealousy, repressed bisexuals, and Unresolved Sexual Tension. Literally just this:

(x)

Excerpt:

It's all easy enough to ignore, at first. A lingering glance here, a fond smile there – things easy to brush off and hard to notice, unless someone were looking for the signs. Arthur notices.

***

"In all ways but one, Lancelot was a man of honour." — Arthur in episode 4x09 (Lancelot Du Lac)

After Lancelot gets knighted for the third time, and for the first time properly, there is still a certain awkwardness between him and Gwen. From the sidelines, Arthur watches them soldier on and ignore it for the sake of courtly manners, and probably for his sake, too. That which resolve has started, time finishes, slowly wearing away the thin layer of stiff formality between them.

Given he loves them both, Arthur should be glad of their rediscovered friendship. Sometimes he is. Other times, he has to remind himself to be.

***

It's all easy enough to ignore, at first. A lingering glance here, a fond smile there – things easy to brush off and hard to notice, unless someone were looking for the signs. Arthur notices.

He trusts them both with his life, which is why he says nothing. Gwen acts with the ease that only a guilt-free conscience can grant, and Arthur is almost as sure of Lancelot's love as he is of Gwen's. Neither of them would ever cross the line.

And yet.

And yet, it's difficult for Arthur to keep his jealousy at bay when he knows, deep down, that he won that initial fight for Gwen’s heart not by his own strength, but by default. He has tried not to wonder whose side Gwen would be sitting at if Lancelot had not left, but sometimes he falls into temptation. He’s come up with different answers at different times.

***

For Gwen’s first anniversary as queen, Arthur arranges a great feast and a tournament. Not very original, according to Merlin, but Gwen seems pleased. Even more so when Lancelot kneels at her feet and humbly begs her to allow him to fight in her honour. She accepts.

The next day, Arthur fights Lancelot at training. His blows, perhaps, land a bit harder than usual, and he might throw Lancelot on the ground with more force than strictly necessary. Lancelot says nothing. Arthur's right arm is so bruised afterwards that it hurts to lift anything heavier than a goblet of wine for an entire day.

The day of the tournament, Arthur plasters on a smile as he watches Gwen tie her monogrammed silk handkerchief around Lancelot's arm. He thinks of the much humbler favour she gave him, years ago, right before he kissed her for the first time. As they sit on the royal dais, watching the tournament, Arthur has to endure every one of Gwen's soft gasps and sighs of relief as Lancelot works his way through his opponents with single-minded efficiency. He wins the tournament, of course. Arthur wasn't expecting any less.

***

He will not humiliate himself or wrong them by asking them to stop.

And to stop doing what, exactly? They haven't breached any law of propriety, unless perhaps in spirit, in the privacy of their own hearts, which Arthur prefers to remain ignorant about.

At times, Arthur thinks it would be easier to bear it if he did not care for Lancelot as much as he does. He still feels indebted to him for stepping aside, with his customary grace, when it was clear that Gwen’s affections did not lie where Arthur had hoped.

And he understands entirely what drew Gwen to Lancelot – he might not have been a prince, and he's not a king, but he's as valiant a knight as Arthur ever was, true-hearted, chivalrous, and with a spirit noble enough to make up for his humble origins.

He's a few more things besides, things Arthur could never aspire to be – patient, sensitive, modest. Lancelot would not throw his goblet at his servant in a fit of anger, not even one as disrespectful as Merlin. He would not brag about his fighting skills, even though he's the best swordsman Arthur has ever met. If he were to find out Lancelot reads poetry in his free time, Arthur wouldn't be surprised.

Lancelot is, in short, perfect in every way – with the singular exception of being in love with his king's wife, and even this he does with such selflessness that it is almost enough to wipe away the stain of blame. Almost.

Be it as it may, Arthur can hardly fault the man for loving Gwen. He, of all people, knows very well how hard it is not to.

***

Despite Arthur’s best intentions, his worry and irritation start to show. They manifest in mean and petty ways, unbecoming of a friend, let alone a king – picking Lancelot for the most unpleasant rounds of patrol, ignoring him in council meetings, being liberal with criticism and stingy with praise on the training field.

Lancelot accepts it all with resigned obedience, which makes Arthur feel even worse.

***

One afternoon, Lancelot knocks on the door of Arthur's chambers. Gwen isn't there, having left to go explore the market stalls in the lower town. Sometimes, she asks Lancelot to accompany her – not today, it seems.

“Have I displeased you in some way, sire?” Lancelot asks, cutting straight to the point.

Arthur doesn't even lift his eyes from the letter he was writing. “What makes you think so?”

“Your attitude, sire,” Lancelot says, levelly, but with uncharacteristic bluntness. Arthur lifts his eyes then, arching his eyebrows at him. Lancelot meets his gaze, undaunted. “Forgive me, but I must speak the truth. You have always shown me extraordinary kindness, and you have been most gracious in accepting me amongst your knights, despite… what happened in the past–”

“I do not care about your little ruse, Lancelot, I told you,” Arthur interrupts him, jamming his quill in the inkwell. “It's forgiven.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lancelot looks at Arthur with the same determined expression he wears on the training field, when he's squaring up to an opponent. It is clear he won't be dancing around the obvious any longer. “That isn't what I meant, sire. I do not wish to come between you and the queen.”

Arthur snorts. “Don't be presumptuous. What goes on between Guinevere and me does not concern you.”

“But what goes on between her and me concerns you,” Lancelot says. The withering look Arthur shoots him is not enough to stop him from taking a step forward. “I can see it, sire. I know that Gwen's heart belongs to you entirely, but I fear that my presence here is giving you cause to doubt it, and I do not wish to trouble your peace.” He stands straighter before announcing: “That is why I decided to leave Camelot.”

Panic pierces Arthur’s chest, as sharp and unexpected as a strike from a friend’s sword. “Don't be absurd,” he sneers, trying to mask his agitation with arrogance.

Lancelot maintains his composure. “I'm sorry, sire,” he simply says, and he genuinely looks it.

Arthur springs to his feet so abruptly his chair topples to the floor. Neither of them flinches. He walks around his desk, coming to stand in front of Lancelot. He cannot explain the anger that sweeps through him at Lancelot’s cool resolve.

Suddenly he’s a young prince again, watching the best knight he’s ever met slip through his fingers, and powerless to stop it – an unbearable feeling for a king who’s since grown used to having things go his way. 

“You swore an oath to me and Camelot,” Arthur says, trying to keep his anger from his voice. “To protect us both, and to serve me. Is your word really of so little worth?” A strange leap of association leads him to think of Gwen, left broken-hearted and tearful without so much as a goodbye after a narrow escape from a harrowing ordeal. With a few years’ delay, he feels outraged on her behalf. “Of course, that's your solution to all problems, isn't it, Lancelot? Running away. Guinevere won't be surprised to hear it – you did it once before, after all.”

He can see in Lancelot’s eyes that his words have wounded him, as he intended.

“I did it for you, sire, as much as her,” Lancelot says, quietly. “And it's for the love I bear you both that I beseech you now to release me from my oath.”

Even with a mind clouded by anger, Arthur hears what Lancelot is not saying. “You don't believe she would have chosen me.”

For the first time since he entered Arthur’s chambers, Lancelot's assuredness wavers. “I cannot presume to know what was in her heart,” he replies, but he lowers his eyes as he says it.

“And yet you left.”

“I didn't want to put her in the position of having to make a choice,” Lancelot says, because of course he would be the better man and think of others first, when Arthur was only thinking about himself. “When she confessed her feelings for me, she thought she might not live long enough to see you again.”

Arthur scoffs. “So it didn't count?”

“I only meant that she might not have been as forthright if we had met again under different circumstances.”

“But you don't doubt the truth of what she said,” Arthur insists, like a dog with a bone, not knowing himself what mad urge is driving him to drag the truth out of Lancelot when he's been trying to ignore it for so long.

Lancelot takes a moment to reply. “I believe she meant what she said, at the time,” he says, carefully, “and that she still holds me in esteem, despite what happened. That is all I can hope for. That is more than enough for me.”

“It’s not, though,” Arthur says, shaking his head. “You love her.”

The truth, now bare and undeniable, stands between them. Some emotion, which Arthur cannot name, flits across Lancelot's face at that accusation, like a ripple on the surface of a pond.

“I love her, sire, as much as I love you,” Lancelot says, his eyes as earnest and guileless as they were years ago, when, in a damp and dingy cell, he pleaded Arthur to let him ride at his side on a suicidal mission.

Arthur lets out a single burst of bitter laughter. “No, you don't.”

As he says this, Arthur’s anger evaporates, leaving only hurt in its place. He's not sure what pains him more – that Lancelot's love for Gwen surpasses his commitment to him, or that he would lie to Arthur's face about it.

“But I do, Arthur,” Lancelot protests. “I do.” He looks and sounds distressed, as if Arthur were doing him wrong by not believing him.

Lancelot's eyes search Arthur's face, hoping to find some trace of understanding. There is too much in those eyes – too much trembling honesty, despite his lies; too much devotion, for a man who was threatening to leave a mere moment ago – something too naked, too telling, so much so that Arthur feels the need to avert his eyes, as he did once, years ago, in that dingy cell. When he does so, Lancelot places his hand on Arthur’s face, turning it towards him again – and then, before Arthur can react, he presses his lips to his mouth.

It's a frantic gesture; a last resort. Arthur can tell from the way Lancelot's hand trembles on his cheek, from the desperation with which he pushes his mouth against his, all passion and no grace. Even so, the kiss lasts right up to the point of endurance, as if Lancelot needed Arthur to believe him. Perhaps he does – he is a man of honour; Arthur is certain he hates to be taken for a liar almost as much as he hates to lie.

Arthur doesn’t pull back, but he does not respond, either. He stands still and stiff, merely closing his eyes as he submits to Lancelot's tender assault out of confusion.

At last, the kiss ends. Lancelot takes his hand away and steps back, his eyes downcast, his face pale. Arthur just looks at him, with his mouth slightly open, too shocked to speak.

“Forgive me,” Lancelot says, his eyes fixed on Arthur’s boots. “I… I must go.”

He makes for the door, but Arthur’s hand, moving with no input from his mind, grabs Lancelot's wrist and pulls him back.

“No,” Arthur says, almost choking on the word. “Please. Stay.”

He's not entirely sure what he's asking, if he means ‘don't leave this chamber’ or ‘don't leave Camelot’; he only knows that he means: ‘don't leave me’, that the thought of Lancelot leaving is unbearable, just as it was the first time he did it, when Arthur had to watch the best man he ever met – the first man who ever truly understood what it meant to be a knight, perhaps better than Arthur himself – walk out of his life, leaving him with a feeling of loss he couldn't fully understand.

But Lancelot pulls his hand out of Arthur's grasp. “I'm sorry,” he says. There is genuine sorrow in his eyes.

Lancelot turns and leaves, and Arthur lets him go.

***

That night, Arthur seeks comfort in Gwen's body with an urgency that leads her to ask him what is wrong.

“Nothing,” Arthur lies, with a kiss between her breasts, because he can't very well tell her, ‘Lancelot is leaving us, and it is all my fault.’

Gwen looks unconvinced, but she pries no further.

***

The next morning, Arthur wakes with a feeling of dread, surprised that he's slept at all. He goes through his usual morning rituals with impressive stoicism – he eats his breakfast, reads the patrol report, and has Merlin prepare him for his training session, all the while listening to Merlin's mindless prattle, and never once throwing something heavy at his head.

He walks onto the training field much earlier than usual, expecting to find no one – but someone is already there, practising with a sword on a straw dummy. The distance is too great to make out much of him, but the precision and the swiftness of his movements are enough for Arthur to recognise the man at a glance. He starts walking faster.

“Lancelot,” Arthur breathes out when he's but a few steps away from him.

Lancelot turns. He doesn't bow to Arthur, as he normally would; instead, he wipes his sweaty brow with the back of his hand and looks at him warily. “Sire,” he says. He shifts his grip on the hilt of his sword.

“You're still here,” Arthur blurts out – an observation worthy of Merlin's wit, but the obvious relief in his voice seems to put Lancelot at ease.

Lancelot sheathes his sword. “You were right, sire. I took an oath to serve you and Camelot, so I'll endeavour to do so.” He pauses and adds, hesitantly: “That is, if you'll still have me.”

Arthur smiles at him without even meaning to. “I wouldn't wish you to be anywhere else.”

Lancelot's face clears up. “Then I remain your loyal servant,” he says, with feeling, and he bows.

Of course he is, just as he ever was, and Arthur was a fool to doubt it. The realisation hits him with staggering force, and it's all he can do not to embrace Lancelot.

He claps his hand on Lancelot's shoulder and squeezes it, instead. “Think you can beat me today?” he asks.

“I'll do my best,” Lancelot promises, almost solemnly.

Of course. “You always do, Lancelot,” Arthur says with warmth through the odd tightness in his throat. He backs a few steps and draws his sword, adjusting his grip with a twirl of his wrist. “Come on, then.”

With a happy smile, Lancelot unsheathes his sword.

[y-so-hungry]

Hungry Boy: Chapter 1

Summary: Joseph and Adam have had a mutual crush on each other for months now, though neither knows the other's feelings. Today, Adam goes to the diner that Joseph works at, hungry for dinner, and finds out that Joseph hasn't actually eaten all day... neither of their stomachs will stop rumbling either.

Notes: Hey everyone! This is a RP I did with someone, who wishes to remain anonymous, but was happy to share with you all our story! There will be 6 chapters, which I'm going to try and post one each day. They're all part of a single rp and I had to break it into chapters to avoid the story being WAY too long for one post. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Tags (for the whole story, not just this chapter): hunger, stuffing, starved to stuffed, stomach growling, belly rubs, light bondage, masturbation, cooking, friends to lovers, M/M

Read on AO3

Adam walked into the diner after a long day at work, shivering from the cold wind and snow outside. He stomped off the snow on his shoes at the doormat, and his stomach gurgles at the smell of food permeating the small diner. There were a few other people inside, apparently also tired and cold from the day. He looked up at the bar and saw his favorite waiter, Joseph, standing there filling another customer's coffee. He smiled, and called out to him.

"Oi, Joey, ya got an open spot for me?"

The cup fills to the top, and Joseph immediately springs his head toward the entrance to see Adam grinning widely at him. Joseph smiles back, happy to see a familiar face.

"Adam! Come in, come in!" he calls back, leaving his first customer to enjoy his coffee. "We got a few empty tables, how many in your party?”

"Just one today. Just need to fill up before I go home," he says, patting his stomach underneath his maroon turtleneck sweater.

"Busy day today?" Joseph chats, picking up a stray glass and casually wiping it down with a cloth. "I know how that feels. Right now's the only time it hasn't been busy today, I haven't had much of a chance to eat anything since breakfast."

Adam frowns.

"You haven't? Jeez, love, you must be starving!" he says. A very faint blush colors his cheeks as he realizes he accidentally said 'love' to the waiter he'd had a crush on for months now, and also at the fact that Joseph admitted he was hungry. Something about hunger had always been... interesting to Adam, say the least.

Thinking the pet name as just a friendly gesture, Joseph bobs his shoulders in a little laugh. "You get used to it. Seeing so many people eating can kind of fill the gap, you know?"

Fill ...Joseph's eye catches another waiter walk to a table with a tray full of freshly cooked food; a few burgers and chicken tender sides, even a bowl of onion rings. The smell carries over to his nose, and he has to swallow before he starts drooling.

"Um- I'll be with you in a second!" he says in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. "I just- need to clean these glasses."

Adam raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure that watching people eat would actually “fill in the gap”, but didn't argue.

"No worries, take your time," he said with a laugh. He sat in his usual booth and considered the menu. His stomach rumbled at the sight of the food on it, and he couldn't help palming his belly again, rubbing it a little. He'd even eaten lunch, he could imagine poor Joseph's belly was practically howling with hunger... Part of him hoped he would be able to hear it when he came by for his order.

Placing the final polished glass with the others, Joseph turned toward Adam's table ready to take his order. Upon closer inspection, he can see Adam has placed his hand on top of his stomach, rubbing slow circles into it. He isn't sure if it's the hunger getting to him or something else, but the sight is enough to make his cheeks feel ever so slightly warm. It's probably just Adam, right? Joseph's been holding feelings for him for a little while now, it must be that. But it's specifically when he sees the attention on his stomach that...

Joseph shakes the thought from his head and takes out a notebook and pen once he reaches Adam's table. "Good day, sir. May I take your order?" he playfully asks in a faux-fancy voice.

Adam laughed.

"Mmh, I think the only thing that's been on my mind since I left work is getting the biggest burger on the menu," he says, sounding almost dreamy as he talks about it. "Side of fries, chocolate milkshake. Ooh and chicken strips. Carbs and meat are the goal right now."

His stomach gurgles quietly again and he rubs his belly more, licking his lips.

Joseph's breath catches upon hearing Adam's stomach. He can't deny that his listing of the food makes his own stomach cramp with hunger, his mind filling with images of all the items being cooked in the kitchen.

"Your stomach sounds like it agrees," he says, attempting to be teasing but unable to hide the small voice crack.

Adam's face blushed further and he pressed his fingers sharply into his stomach as he laughed.

"I'm starving, honestly. It was rumbling the whole drive here!"

Oh, geez. Joseph feels his heart skip a beat as Adam says that, the image of him sitting in the car with a rumbling, gurgling stomach during the entire drive filling his head. He doesn't need this now, especially when he's still got other customers to serve once this order is done.

"Hope it wasn't too distracting," he nervously chuckles, then takes a second look at the notebook. "Right, so- Number 3 burger, side of fries, chocolate milkshake and some chicken strips. Is that everything?"

"That should be it!” Adam answers. “Thanks so much, Joe, you're the best."

Joseph grins, his chest feeling warm. "Aw, shucks. I'll see if I can make the order come quickly, just for you."

He turns to leave, peeling off the order from the notebook, but is stopped by his stomach letting out a deep, hollow rumble, one that's not quiet either. He gasps, free hand flying straight for his belly in an attempt to cover up the sound. Damn dress shirt, it's not gonna hide anything.

Adam immediately feels his heart begin to pound, his breath catching harshly as he hears poor Joseph's belly growl. It was loud, loud enough that there's no way Adam could pretend he hadn't heard.

"Jeez, Joseph, was that your stomach?" he says, his voice sounding surprised but gentle, and also strangely intrigued. His eyes were trained on Joseph's belly, and the hand pressing into the area under his ribs.

Joseph feels every inch of his face cringe, his cheeks surely flushing bright red in embarrassment. Though he turns back around to face Adam, he can't bring himself to look him in the eye. He can only keep his eyes focused on his own empty gut, hoping it doesn't protest again.

"Uh...yeah. It was. Guess I'm hungrier than I thought, huh? H-heh..."

"Aw you poor thing. You really haven't eaten anything since breakfast have you?" Adam says.

Poor thing. Joseph's chest flutters as the words float around in his mind. Why does he feel like this? Why is he afraid of Adam finding out something he has no idea about? Why does this have to be happening in the middle of his shift?

"N-no, not really. Busy shift," he sputters as his eyes dart back and forth. "I'll go get your order ready- won't be long!"

He's quick to escape, hugging his arms tightly around his middle so as to not give anything else away.

Adam opens his mouth but Joseph has already sped away, off to hand the order to the chefs. Adam's stomach gurgles again, but he finds he's wondering more about how hungry Joseph feels right now, rather than himself. Poor guy has been running around all day on an empty stomach...

Suddenly Adam wonders if that was the first time his belly had rumbled in front of a customer, or if it had happened already today. That brought an odd feeling, wondering how flustered Adam got in front of other customers, wondering if his belly had been just as loud then. He could imagine him going off to rub his poor empty belly in private somewhere in the back, trying to get it to calm down before going out for the next order...

Jesus, Adam, quit thinking about that, getting riled up in a public restaurant is the last thing we want right now, he thinks to himself.

In the kitchen, Joseph hands off the piece of paper to a chef and makes his way back into the diner, wiping his forehead and taking a moment to breathe. What the hell was that?! he angrily thinks to himself. Getting turned on in the middle of the diner right in front of your crush- you're gonna make a fool of yourself! You got other people to serve, you moron!

Just then, he catches sight of another table glancing at him hopefully, waiting for their order to be taken. He clears his mind of any remaining dirty thoughts and makes his way over, notepad ready.

Adam watched as Joseph took a table's order, then came out a few minutes later holding a tray full of food for another table that had ordered earlier. Joseph gave a small smile to Adam before training his eyes back on the table, but as he came nearer, Adam could hear his stomach practically moaning with hunger. It wasn't as loud as before, but it was constant, grumbling all the way as he passed Adam's table. Immediately he felt his face flush and suddenly all he wanted to do was push his hands into Joseph's stomach and rub his poor belly, feeling it growl under his fingers.

The more Joseph works, the more his hunger grows, and the more his hunger grows the more he wishes he could be alone and take care of it, but he knows that that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Occasionally he’ll see Adam glancing at him, and his heart beats faster every time. Stop it, he tries telling himself. Focus on your work. You can eat later. Just keep going.

Not only that, he hopes that Adam’s order will be done soon so he doesn’t have to be hungry any longer. Even if the sounds are…kind of nice.

He really does look hungry, Adam thinks to himself as he watches Joseph continue on with his job. He can see the way his eyes catch on certain dishes, the way his hand absentmindedly settles on his middle when he's talking to a customer. Not to mention each time he passes Adam can hear small, telltale gurgles coming from his middle.

He supposed he could tell so easily in part because he was quite hungry too. His stomach would not stop rumbling, especially since the table next to him had been served a few minutes ago. The burger on that table looked so good, it made his mouth water, and his stomach gave another violent growl.

Eventually, most of the orders are taken and Adam’s order is finally ready. Joseph sighs as he picks up the tray with his food on top of it. So much for making it quick, he says to himself.

Back in the diner, he speed walks to Adam’s table, placing the tray down as quick as possible. “Hey, I’m sorry it took so long. There were a lot of big orders today. Is this everything?”

Adam's stomach gives a long, desperate moan at the sight of the food. It's so loud he can feel it shaking his ribcage, and he can feel blood rushing in his ears immediately. Both hands touch to his stomach but there's no use trying to cover the noise. 

"Oh man, heh, sorry, yes I think this is everything, jesus..."

If he were a cartoon, Joseph swears that steam would be coming out of his ears at the sound of Adam’s stomach. He’s known him for years, he’s heard his stomach before…and yet it’s never been this ravenous before. He swallows to moisten his throat.

“Are you sure you ate enough for lunch? You sound starving…” he says. genuinely concerned but also a little intrigued.

"I thought I did, though I guess my job is fairly labor intensive, I'm on my feet all day helping customers, hauling around books, shelving them, but I didn't think I'd be this hungry after a day at the bookstore." He laughed and rubbed his belly as he popped a fry in his mouth. "MMMF, gods Joey, this is so good. Thank you, I swear I could kiss you."

Joseph felt his heart leap into his throat. Surely Adam didn't...mean that, right? Obviously not, they're just friends, he wouldn't actually want to kiss him...surely.

"O-oh, well, I'm- I'm glad you like it!" he stutters. "I'll make sure to send compliments to the chef, he'll-"

The smell of Adam's food wafts past Joseph's nose, and his stomach rumbles again. It's been consistently rumbling for the past hour, but Joseph's starting to reach his wit's end. Scowling, he gently smacks his notebook against his belly, as if punishing it.

"You're the one who sounds starved honestly, Joey," Adam says, sounding sincere, and yet his eyes were staring directly at Joseph's belly. "You haven't eaten all day, you must be damn near desperate now."

At this point, Joseph decides to give up on the attempt– no one in this diner believes he’s cool and collected about this– and takes a deep breath.

“God, yeah, I’m dying,” he exaggerates, gripping onto his belly. “Being around all this food is difficult on the easiest days but when you’ve barely eaten anything yourself? It’s like torture.”

His stomach lets out another long, rumbling groan. It’s enough to where he can feel it buzz against his palm. Despite his own words, his heart flutters at the feeling.

"I'm sure it is," Adam says. When Joseph's stomach rumbles again Adam's hand suddenly jumps up, Joseph's belly is so close Adam could touch it, but he quickly disguises the movement by tucking a hair behind his ear, unsure of how graceful it actually looked. "It really does sound empty, the poor hungry thing. Your shift ends in what, one, two hours?"

If he calls me a poor thing one more time– Joseph pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, attempting to hide the squirming in his legs. He feels like he’s going weak. “A-actually, I don’t have much left. I think I end in about half an hour? I’m tempted to order something myself if this keeps screaming at me.”

He gently prods his belly, which gives a small, agitated grruuu in response.

Jesus fuck it's like he's TRYING to make me lose my mind, Adam thinks as his face flushes thoroughly again at the sound. When Joseph mentioned buying something to eat however, Adam got an idea. A stupid idea, that Joseph would 100% turn down and would definitely think is weird but it's way too late Adam has already opened his mouth--

"Actually... I was wondering if maybe you would like to spend the evening at my place? You can eat there, we could talk... Maybe I could feed you?"

Thank you for reading! Chapter 2 will be posted soon!

[siriannatan]

Unwelcome Visitor

After some bad sleep, I decided I'll post THE fic a bit later today. Eating a pączek (polish doughnut with like jam in it) I feel much better about life.

AO3

Joey sighed over the mess of his latest potion experiment. It was a deep and annoyed sigh at all not directed at the mess his workspace was at the moment dues to the failed balancing of ice and fire. No. It was directed at an at all not invited guest chuckling in amusement at his experiment's spectacular end. Why was he still tolerating this man just letting himself into his home?

"Should I give you a few pointers?" the guest asked, the amusement still clear in his voice.

"Should I report you to authorities, necromancer?" he huffed, turning to look at the always messy in that perfect 'I totally did not work on my hair an hour before even thinking about leaving for the day' wavy dark hair. Perfectly pressed and clean black and green robes. Scott S. Major, a witch expelled from the Witch Academy and witch society for practising necromancy. And his dumb handsome face that has not aged a day since Joey saw his expulsion as a young student of the Academy about seven years ago. Not even one wrinkle. Creepy. Handsome but creepy. And he was staring at Joey and the soot on his robes with an amused grin. "What do you even want?"

"You make it sound like I ever wanted to conform to Witch Council's boring rules," Scott sighed but his grin did not match it in the slightest. "And like you haven't asked for my help first, and more often than I ever asked for yours, little Witch-Boy~. Who knows, Council just might have a sense of humour and toss us into a cell together, provided they can catch me," Scott chuckled waving his hand and making all the dust vanish off of Joey.

"Just leave me be, I'm busy," Joey scoffed. He was fully capable of cleaning his own robes, thank you very much.

Scott made an amused noise and glanced at the brewing mess. "With blowing things up?" he grinned even wider, annoying the FireFrost witch.

"Sometimes progress needs a few explosions to happen," Joey tossed, trying to sound casual and not at all bothered but not quite making the mark. Scott's giggle had him even more annoying than his experiment failing. That was a step to success. All Scott's giggles made him feel was annoyed. "Just go back to your..." Joey turned away from the not welcomed in his house guest to go over his notes and add some more when a pair of arms wrapped around him.

"I think that instead of stressing over that... invention... you need some rest. Doesn't that sound nice?" Scott muttered right into his ear. Lacing his voice with some charm.

Joey almost gave into said charm, realising what was going on at the last second and breaking it as his brain started to fog over and thoughts slow down. "I'll rest when you leave me alone and stop trying to make me into one of your mindless undead puppets," he huffed with effort, pushing the necromancer away.

"How do you know I'd let you be mindless? There's far too much up there to waste it like that," Scott chuckled but a hint of disappointment crossed his face. He was totally trying to kidnap the younger witch...

"You're the worst kind of bastard," Joey scoffed. No more turning his back to Scott. Never ever again. Under no circumstances. 

Scott chuckled as he shrugged. "Honestly, not the worst I've been called," he admitted. "And maybe I was actually worried about you, hm?"

Joey did not trust Scott at all. It was not the first time the necromancer tried dragging him away to wherever he operated from. And probably not the last. "Just leave me be," Joey sighed, leaning on a clean part of his workbench. "I have no time to waste dealing with you," he huffed offering the necromancer his best glare.

"Oh, trust me I know your little problem," Scott grinned and Joey froze. How did he... "And becoming..."

"No. Go away. GO AWAY!" Joey yelled, preparing a frost-fire bolt to throw at the annoyance.

"Okay, okay, I'll go," Scott grinned. "But do think about it, darling. It'd be a waste for someone as talented as you to end like that," he grinned, turned away and after tossing a kiss over his shoulder and left.

Joey waited a minute. And another. And one more for good measure. Once he was pretty sure there were no necromancers in his house he crumpled to the ground. How did Scott figure out Joey's own magic was slowly killing him? How... could he somehow sense that he was destined to die young? Frost and fire were not meant to go together and... Would being dead even stop that? No way. Scott was wrong. 

Joey would figure out a cure. And he needed no Scott and his creepy smiles. He just needed some more time.

Time was all he needed. And he didn't have much of that left...

He'd just have to double his efforts then...

(let me know what you think in comments and tags? how does one Tumblr?)

[lacomandante]

Tagged in '20 questions for fic writers' by the @chiropteracupola — thank you!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

4. Very shameful... I have many, many fics started, and so many ideas, but I usually lack the energy to finish them, but slowly work on them. And while I do have a couple that are finished, posting them wouldn't make a ton of sense without prior explanation on a lot of things. So it stays in the vault for now.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

8,887! I need to publish a fic that's just one word now!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Primarily Sharpe- but more often I've written for Tolkien, even though I've never published anything publicly to AO3, just tumblr.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

....I don't want to link the first one bc it's embarrassing, but it has 199 kudos.

Home has 34.

Longest Night has 26

And Después de guerra has 19.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely- I try to respond to every one I get. It's very rare I get comments for my fics, especially the Sharpe ones, so I treasure them dearly!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is going to sound terrible, but I usually don't write fics with angsty endings!! I always try and end with at least a silver lining. (And at least for Sharpe fics, canon already is pretty depressing, so I like to write happier things lol). I think it would have to be the one where my dúnedain ranger dies at the Battle of the Morannon, being snatched by a fell beast and dropped from a large height.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think Home. I just love Teresa and Sharpe and Antonia safe and happy and loved 🥺 Though it's been so many years since I wrote it I might have to go back and polish it....

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, thankfully. But the fear of getting hate is what's prevented me from posting most of my Tolkien ones, I would say.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! I've got one in the works atm that I really like. I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort in general, but honestly, I'm game for any smut. I'm the type of person who writes a 2,000 word blowjob fic thats IMPERATIVE for the character development lmao.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't think I've personally written any fics with crossovers before. I guess like 12 years ago I wrote a Resident Evil/Silent Hill crossover but never got far into it...I posted it to LiveJournal lol. Those were the days.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, thank goodness. At least for Sharpe the fandom is so tiny it'd be hard not to notice if someone did lol.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! Though I've considered translating my own into Spanish, I'm not quite proficient as I am in English and it wouldn't be the same.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Almost every single bit of writing for the Sharpe series that isn't posted to AO3 has pretty much been written with @properbastard. Sam and I pretty much every day bounce ideas off of each other and share one brain cell. But she also beta-reads my fics and often helps me when I'm stuck, so even if it's a fic I wrote myself, she's pretty much embedded into it too. And if rping counts as cowriting a fic, then yes, absolutely!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

If you're following me and reading this, you probably already know <3

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Personally I try not to think of WIP's that way. I think I have the potential to finish any fic, but I don't want to set myself up for failure by thinking I'll never finish something. Or maybe that's just me being in denial LOL.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think descriptions and maybe dialogue? I like to describe landscapes and set up scenes so that a nice image is painted and sets the stage for the main characters, so to speak. I also have a decent feel for dialogue, I think. Since I've very rarely written modern fiction, one of the most important aspects of historical fiction is being conscious of how characters speak. What words would they use? Do they shorten sentences, or not? What's their background? Upper class or from the gutter? Do they speak English natively? Can they use this phrase, or is that a modern one? I'm a stickler for it, and if I read a fic where the characters Do Not sound like themselves, I usually have to exit out of it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Actually writing lmfao. I don't tend to have a lot of confidence with my writing, which is a shame, but I struggle a lot with that and second guess myself on a lot of things. I'm also incredibly slow- I have so many fics on the backburner just chillin' that I get overwhelmed just looking at and then don't do it, despite wanting to. I create a lot of obstacles for myself that I know don't need to be there, but I'm not sure how to get rid of them.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before! Least not in published fics. For Teresa, since I literally got a Spanish degree because of her, in the past I've incorporated a bit of Spanish into my writing to practice my lessons with her. It was really fun- and honestly, I think it can definitely serve a purpose in a fic- sometimes not knowing what's being said and being forced to extrapolate for yourself through context clues can really put yourself into another characters shoes.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Left 4 Dead. I was hugely into the Valve games, but L4D was my first foray, and probably my biggest and most popular fic. I had quite a few chapters and people really liked it on FF.net, and I would write out the chapters on paper in class, in middle school. I ended up deleting it because I had no idea what to do with it- no plans, no story, just writing as I went. I fondly remember a scene I wrote where Zoey was bleeding out and Nick used a defib on her and it worked <3 oh 13 year old medical knowledge....

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I can't choose! I think I'm so critical of my writing it's so hard to like anything I write.

I tag @phoenixflames12 @properbastard @conquistadoradelmar @prvtocol and whoever else wants to do it!!

[rocknrollsalad]

I wasn't tagged by anyone but I stole it off my dash because I want to do it lol

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Only sixteen but I'm no where near done

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

an absolutely bonkers 98,955 (i'm a half a oneshot away from 100,00?!?!?!?! what the fuck) (and not to brag but I'm currently polishing something that'll be a minimum of 60k)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Stranger Things. There's some MCU on my ao3 because first and foremost I'll always be Bruce Banner trash

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Boyfriend Test - ADA Version 

From the Top, Make it Drop

Legally Speaking

It Was a Long Time Coming (Broken Arms and Healed Hearts)

Mountains, Molehills, and Other Such Problems; A Guide on How to Stop Your Nerd Boyfriend From Rambling by Steve Harrington 

The first fic has more kudos than three, four, and five combined. Also, I need to (again) pat myself on the back for the naming of number 5. A bitch to type out but I love it so much.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I struggle with what to type back to comments that are just the heart emoji but yeah, I eventually respond to them all. I wanna make friends and have cool fandom people and that doesn't happen being silent. Plus I'm so grateful people loved what I wrote enough to leave any comment at all.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't think there's an angsty fic in there, let alone an angsty ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

While I think they all have happy endings, maybe The Boyfriend Test - ADA Version has the happiest??? I think. feel free to tell me I'm wrong lol

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no, i've not gotten any hate. things I wouldn't call positive sure but no hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I tired once recently and it did not receive good reviews so I'll stick to what I know for now. Too many ideas to hone a craft lol

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

to go with what I've said above, I think I have too many ideas. I did see a post about an Amazing Race AU and the thought of writing that will not leave my brain. That'd be a crossover right?? If so there's probably one on deck but nothing currently published.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think so

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't. I don't think i'm big name enough for that but wow would it be so neat. i support this for any and all of my works if anyone wants.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no. i had someone who wanted me to but it didn't end up working out, unfortunately. I've always done the roleplay side of fandom/tumblr so I feel I'd be primed for it. The vibes would just have to be right.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

The OTP of all time?? Bruce Banner and Randall Jessup. The amount of times I've given the powerpoint presentation on this ship and helped people see the light, I can't not answer this. I wanna say something cooler, something more well known, steddie even but I think it has to go to those nerds.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The thing I refer to as my big fic would have to be the answer right? I mean, I want to think I'll finish it. I believe in it so hard and I think it just needs a bit of help but as it stands now, it's the considered abandoned and I don't want it to be.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Slice of life stuff. Banter. Comedy.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

All the cool stuff like pirates and demons and smut

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Don't use google translate?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

BBC Sherlock

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I think I'd either have to totally agree with my kudos graph and say The Boyfriend Test - ADA Version or completely disagree and say For a Bountiful Harvest (and Reprieve From Social Circles)

[olet-lucernam]

progress update : A Hollow Promise, CH6

current word count: 8,414 estimated completion percentage: 27%

progress notes: so i successfully managed to word-vomit about 1.5K words out at 2am a few days ago (with my whole-ass respectable adult job to get up for in the morning, i cannot believe i work in a sector that is considered Serious and Important) and am now editing it down and polishing it up. this third scene should be functionally finished by week's end, optimistically (as in, all the dialogue and prose will be Where They Should Be, but extensive edits to the actual content will be needed, to smooth the actual read of it)

slight pleased bc the new section involves a short convo in german that i wrote myself and barely used any google translate for (literally just for checking tenses why are there four different words for "a"??? is it ein or eine or einen or einem???? why do languages do this why do the words have genders what's the poiiiiiiint and words i'm not super familiar with yet/not sure if they'd be context-correct). it was also fun playing with formal-informal tenses for character dynamic reasons.

then i considered scrapping it all bc it'd be too opaque for my readers. then i got enabled by @femmealec to keep it, so here we are.

i think i'll post a full translation on here once it's finalised, and link to it on ao3 when the chapter's up. it's not a super plot-relevant convo, but maybe non-german speakers will want to know what's being said? ehhh

speaking of. have debated transferring the actual chapters for A Hollow Promise onto here. the difference between ao3 formatting and tumblr fics may require me to split up my chapters up tho? the same way i did with wattpad (although i barely update that one). i'll think about it.

have also begun rewatching the entire mcu saga from the beginning, in a run-up to finally watching infinity war and endgame. am currently on iron man 2 and very emotional about tony stark.

and got a reply to my reply to a comment on ao3 and they said my writing was "like mythril"???? ???????? so i'm gonna be riding that wave of euphoria for about a fortnight

and. probably entirely irrelevant to the progress update but: best friend and i watched a film together over disney+ groupwatch, and it was really really nice. it was their first night in their new place, and they already seem waaaay happier and freer, and they told me they slept well after being a lil anxious, so. it made my heart happy. i'm super proud of them too, for organising this move on such a tight schedule. they're just. the Best

[streetlights-was-taken]

[postscript] the gardener who only collects seeds

← read on AO3 (available on 230415)

for venlumiweek2023.

day 6: time loop au / "say you'll remember me"

i. conceptualizing the fic

oh god. I'll be honest, I wasn't planning to do this fic at all. but I think time loop and memory are very cool concepts and I would be remiss not to write anything for the day 6 prompts when I have a series dedicated to exploring these very concepts (caesura).

I shuffled through a bunch of ideas. I already had a "time loop"-ish idea back in february, but it was too ambitious to finish before this year’s venlumi week starts. it's like a choose your own adventure fic. if you're interested, I have a demo of how it works here (archive-locked, so you need an AO3 account to access).

unfortunately, writing that fic is the equivalent to writing 9+ fics and becoming an indie game designer. I know my limits. (I might still try writing it one day. but it will definitely take some time.)

the second idea I had for a time loop fic was to write about a storyteller (venti) rewriting their story over and over because it’s never perfect. and each rewrite of the story manifests as a time loop for the characters within it. he does this until he can create a beautiful story, but also because he deeply cares for the characters in it (lumine) and wants the best for them.

but I decided I couldn’t write it exactly that way because I don’t think venti is that much of a perfectionist. he observes and he records, but he's pretty chill about how events unfold. I think that would be more believable for lumine to be the perfectionist, given the hints of her having a martyr/hero complex. however, I do think venti is a great spectator-type of character, and I don’t want his affinity for memories/wind/time to go to waste.

I ended up with the semi-final idea for this fic after taking inspiration from this tumblr post about self-inflicted time loops:

a self-inflicted time loop where lumine keeps rewinding time until she can save everyone in teyvat. venti, who records everything through the winds, is aware of each time loop. lumine, who loses her own humanity as she becomes obsessed with doing a perfect run, rewinding at the slightest inconvenience and failing to connect with the people she wants to save with every loop. and finally venti, who takes pity on her and erases her memory, because he knows lumine will always save teyvat, just as she has 167 times. but she cannot save herself.

it's a little tragic and bittersweet… but I guess I really like writing this kind of fic. I developed the lore around this a bit more as I wrote (more in the next section).

other ideas I considered were:

looping just one event (but genshin doesn't have one that compels me)

doing something similar to link click and life is strange where the character visits the past through photographs (but genshin also didn't compel me here; I like the idea, but I'll probably just write a link click fic if that's the case).

finally, I actually planned for this to only be a 4000-word oneshot because I wanted to finish the fic in one weekend. for some reason, I ended up with 8000 words in three days. uh. yeah.

due to the deadline I set for myself, I did not have the time to polish this fic. I did give this a rough SPAG-edit, but the fic you're reading now is pretty much the first draft with hardly any revisions. there are some concepts that I probably could have executed more elegantly (such as when istaroth breaks the fourth wall). but I didn't really have the time develop this story more, unfortunately.

(there's something quite meta about this too, now that I think about it. we have a fic about a storyteller learning to be satisfied with their story, and what do I — the author of the fic — do? I post the first draft as it is, without revisions 😆)

ii. lore™ and other inspirations

this fic is actually a cool case of plantsing for me. I had a rough outline of the fic for lumine's chapter through the idea I explored above (plotting). but as I was writing venti's chapter, I ended up creating all this lore in the background purely through discovery writing (pantsing).

I was actually going to scrap the idea of venti being a storyteller and teyvat being his story. but then I was thinking of another fic idea (separate from venlumi week) and one of my inspirations for it was the parable of the tree in the in-game book before sun and moon. there is a line there that says:

for it is the god of moments who is able to take "seeds" from this "moment" into the past and the future.

this is where I got the idea of turning each time loop into a seed! this also ties neatly into the phrase, "seeds of stories, brought by the wind, cultivated by time."

the idea of storyteller venti soon evolved into him not just writing a story to be told, but composing a world/story to be "planted" into the fabric of reality. in a way, all the time loops are simulations of a reality that is yet to be created. (this is also an idea I played with in the cyoa demo too, though I wasn't really sure if I was going to use that idea in this fic until I started writing venti's chapter).

the title is also a play on this concept. the gardener is, of course, venti, who collected 256 seeds over the course of composing the world of teyvat.

composing is a neat word because it refers to the act of creating through artistic labor, and it is specifically tied to the idea of producing works of music and literature. which is exactly what a bard does! so I used composer as the title of... whatever it is venti and istaroth does.

with all of these elements in place, I can't help but take inspiration from other works as well. specifically:

svsss: my favorite thing about this novel is shen yuan and shang qinghua’s relationship with the narrative, so I was also inspired by that as well. particularly, how shen yuan’s kindness literally changed the narrative. and the overall readership/authorship commentary we have from shang qinghua. (cumplane also happens to be my favorite ship from this novel, which is fun to think about some meta subtext fuckery going on there where all the other characters falling for sqq just further legitimizes cumplane because those characters are all figments of sqh's imagination and— okay I'll stop here now because this is not the point of this post. but yeah basically the idea of the author falling for someone in the story and the world reflecting those intentions.)

twewy: I wrote a lot of twewy fics back in the day so you can't expect me to write about composers and not think about twewy. twewy doesn't really tie into the fic too much besides the whole composer thing, but when you're really into twewy it just makes the fic extra fun I think. like I said in the end notes, I was this 🤏 close to write seed:168 where venti knowingly calls lumine by name before asking for it, just like how joshua does it with neku in week two.

finally, I decided on 168 loops for lumine as a reference to the number of materials you need to ascend a character (this is also the same number of loops in the dream-battle samsara with scaramouche).

I decided on 88 loops for venti because 256 was the number of dots I can use for the hourglass art lol. it was just a happy coincidence that 256-168=88, and that 88 is a neat number to end a time loop with.

iii. a time loop is a puzzle

it really is! often, the character is already stuck in some way before the time loop starts, and the time loop breaks when they either achieve character development or break the puzzle that is trapping them.

I think lumine and venti approach the time loop puzzle from opposite ends. lumine regresses through her time loop. she becomes less connected to the world through it, and she aims for perfection that she can't achieve. she starts seeing her friends as more like characters in an unskippable cutscene than as people.

meanwhile, venti actually grows through his time loop. he began as a composer, but only through going through several lifetimes does he start to understand what it actually means to live and to love. he connects more with the world around him as he goes through the loops. he sees his characters more as people, as friends, and he is delighted that lumine can bring out the complexities that they offer instead of letting them stay as tropey stereotypes.

for both characters, the time loops are self-inflicted. they can stop at any time. venti lets go of his control over the time loops to lumine because that was his ultimate expression of love at that time. this was proof that he grew through the loops.

lumine was actually already in her best form in venti's 87th loop. she was in a world that was designed to love her, and she in turn was a loving person. however, venti advised her to focus on the destination instead of the journey. then he gave her the hourglass. this changes lumine's character and enables her regression in the time loops.

only by breaking the time loop and resetting her back to how she was in the beginning does she go back to her loving self. she was already happy before. venti didn't need to change her.

it is with both time loops that venti learns all his lessons in life and creates the most optimally designed world for lumine to love.

iv. narrative arrangement and the emotional journey

although the story started with lumine's chapter, this is very much a venti-centric story. lumine's chapter, for me, served more as a prologue to what was really going on in the background.

I quite like how I arranged the narrative. it is not chronological, but I think it most effectively delivers the emotional journey I want the reader to experience. lumine's chapter serves as an introduction to the time loop, the kind of world she lives in, and the kind of effects a self-inflicted loop can bring about. lumine knows less about the mechanics of this world, and she is the protagonist of venti's story, so she serves her role well as the one to introduce us this world. it also makes her into an unreliable narrator sometimes.

then she tips the hourglass at the end of her chapter. the reader is then transported to venti's chapter and his time loop. it's a bit of twist later on that his time loop actually happens before lumine's, so we actually get two time loops in one chapter. one is venti's loop, and the other is his pov during lumine's loop.

inserting venti's loop in between two povs of lumine's loop (first chapter, lumine pov; second half of second chapter, venti pov) also shows the contrast of the two loops more. where lumine regresses, venti grows. where venti becomes hopeful, lumine becomes hopeless. and so on, and so forth.

his pov in lumine's time loop is also important to show how much impact lumine leaves in his world. when she loves, the world loves her back. when she is detached, the story breaks apart in different ways. tighnari doesn't trust her, albedo becomes obsessive, festivals become gloomy (and come on. genshin is festival impact. when there are no archon quests, festivals are the bread and butter of this game).

the second chapter has two loops to follow, like an hourglass. the structure of the second chapter is very reminiscent of one imo. though I didn't really plan that out as I was writing; it's just something I noticed during my own read through of the draft. pretty neat how things can end up like that. I think this is what people call serendipity.

v. planting seeds and breaking walls

this part is, admittedly, probably something I could have executed better. I debated over just not doing it, but I wanted to try anyway and see if it works. I love meta bullshit in my stories.

yes, the seed istaroth plants is not really about teyvat: venti's world, but about venti and lumine themselves. about their story through the loops. in other words, the fic you read, the story you witnessed, is exactly the story istaroth planted into reality.

there's some funky implications about this. are we, the readers/author, also observers and composers? hm, yeah, we are. venti even mentions that his composition are just words on a screen.

without its protagonist and without its creator, it is nothing more than words on a screen. a story to be read, but not one that can come to life.

and when istaroth addresses the reader, she also looks beyond the screen.

she looks up, beyond the screen, and smiles. "and that will be a story worth observing."

there are other hints too. the higher dimension is also called the "fourth plane" (aka, the fourth wall). it's even a little cheeky that istaroth says, "we will bear witness to whatever story you choose." because that's exactly what is already happening. every time someone opens this fic and reads it, it is already being observed. we are already bearing witness to the story venti and lumine composed.

well, that was my intention with all of those lines anyway. I'm not sure if it was too subtle or too obvious, or if it fell flat and didn't quite land like I wanted to.

either way, I tried. I'll let the reader decide on that.

vi. ascii art?

honestly, I've thought about looking up if I can do ASCII art on AO3. but I only gave myself three days to finish this whole thing, so I decided against it.

I still ended up coding hourglasses in HTML while procrastinating on this fic lol.

fun fact: the lower half of the hourglass in the first chapter (the triangle, excluding the falling dots) add up to 256 dots. the hourglass in venti's chapter (including the neck) add up to 88 dots.