#ah glorious music

[thoughtsformtheuniverse]

tagged by @booksandchainmail to shuffle my general listening music and post the first 10 songs. I chose my 'music' playlist rather just my full library to avoid the two (2) podcast episodes and random audiobook chapters in there.

1. Songs for Lonely Giants by The Mountain Goats ⁃ I mean. it’s The Mountain Goats. it’s slow, it’s sad, it’s pretty weird. I found this one on a character playlist for Jack from E. Jade Lomax’s Beanstalk series (read it for free here!) it’s very good!

2. Moving On by Oysterband ⁃ not blue oyster cult, but a much weirder band that mostly sings songs about working man’s politics in England in during the last century. this song has both the lines "we asked the man for justice, well he handed us a stone" and "the way to hell is straight and sure/the way to heaven is long/the way to your heart is never-ending/so I just keep moving on" and I adore it

3. Four Hours by The Longest Johns ⁃ I found The Longest Johns late in college (and felt deeply smug when their Wellerman was a hit a year later. I found them first), but I do just listen to a lot of sea shanties. This one is a big ass mood for getting off a ship again and trying to adjust to Land and Not a Watch Schedule. Also, like most sea shanties, great to do chores and lab work too

4. Theseus by The Oh Hellos ⁃ god but I always love The Oh Hellos; this is a song about the importance of maintenance and I treasure it. all of the Zephyrus album is good

5. Loves Me Like a Rock by The Wailin’ Jennys ⁃ turns out The Wailin’ Jennys, usually a folk band, did a cover of Paul Simon’s Love Me a Rock. it’s pretty good. (I actually downloaded this earlier today; I have no sophisticated thoughts yet)

6. I Don’t Want You Now by KT Tunstall ⁃ If Only is probably my actual favorite song off this album, but KT Tunstall is always a good time

7. Angels of the River by Oysterband ⁃ aaand the other stuff Oysterband does is odd, folky, kinda wifty stuff like this. Genuinely no idea what this one is about, any more than I know what Milford Haven is about. I like it though

8. Now I am an Arsonist by Jonathon Colton (ft Suzanne Vega) ⁃ to me, this is a very unlikely combination of artists; Colton usually does deeply nerdy fare, while Suzanne Vega soft and strange. this song is on my thieves playlist, and I could not really describe why

9. Heavy Horses by Jethro Tull ⁃ most of the Jethro Tull songs I like best are songs about industrialization with some of the weirdest flute solos I have ever heard, and Heavy Horses is no exception. This song is nearly 9 minutes long and about the arrival of tractors. it’s great. (Stormwatch is actually my favorite Jethro Tull album, and Weathercock or Acres Wild are more favorite songs from this one, but do I really like Heavy Horses)

10. Falling For The First Time by The Barenaked Ladies ⁃ This is the kind of overlapping wordplay I’m here for, the whole chorus delights me; "Anyone perfect must be lying, anything easy has its cost/Anyone plain can be lovely, anyone loved can be lost/What if I lost my direction? What if I lost sense of time?". And the way it comes back in the final chorus, but tweaked a little. it’s just a good time.

I’m deeply surprised that there’s no They Might Be Giants, Great Big Sea, or songs from my highschool acapella group, but other than that, this is pretty representative.

@epsilon-delta do you play tag games?

[mehiwilldoitlater]

*crawls in through opened window* Hi, hello,you done goofed, and I am back. May I humbly request on behalf of all of us monke simps if we may have a continuation of my previous request? Maybe a little while after our journey with the destined one had started,maybe some blossoming romantic tensions of sorts? 👀👀? Pretty please, oh glorious author?

"~ Came on, Barbie, let's go party!"

"~ah ah ah YEAH!"

"This song is worse than hearing my sisters bickering."

How could someone predict that the recovery of your cellphone, with still all your music insider, could have led to a night of fun and drinks in the Zodiac Village?

It wasn't the first time that you and the Destined One used that place as a place for rest, such as a hiding spot for the fourth spider sister, but that was the first time that the stop became an actual party.

"Aaah, young one, cheer up! The music may not be of your king, but the spirits are high tonight!"

Even Chen mused, taking the chance to relive the cul of the young yaogaui. Despite her unamused looks, just like her new master Yin, too focused on his blacksmith projects to care about your party, she seemed more relaxed than usual. 

At the ending of the song, you finally stopped spinning with Shen, laughing while Xu kept on clapping his pawns together in a thunderous laugh.

"Marvelous, marvelous! Such fun! Oh, how I missed these days, brothers!"

"Here, younger sister! Have another drink! Let's have fun tonight; Destiny can wait!"

"Thank you, Brother Shen!"

You gladly gulped another cup of the new liquor that Shen Monkey was able to distill from some fruits. It was sweet to your tongue—far too much of your king.

"Easy there," your friend monkey said, putting his own cup on the ground. "We don't want you having a hangover tomorrow!" 

"I can handle some alcohol!"

"Let her have some fun! We're with friends! No enemy, no celestial realm, no Yaoguais, only friends, little brother!"

Shen laughed while saying this, putting more wine in the Monkey Cup again. The song slowly faded, then another one started. You recognized in one second, remembering your evergreen era.

"Ooh! This one is a love song from my world! Here here!"

You laughed, grabbing Spider's hand, invincing her for a small dance. She sighed, obliged you in your fun, sure that you'll maybe regret it for your childish behavior in the morning. Without a care, you even started to sing again to this new tune.

"~L is for the way you look at me,

~O is for the only one I see,

~V is very, very extraordinary,

~E is even more than anyone that you adore can!"

During your dance alongside Spider, Shen looked quite pleased. The first time he saw you, you were a trembling mess, always afraid of the new Yaogaui ready to eat you whole, and now you were just part of their world, like if it was always supposed to be this way. He chuckled a little, nodging to the other simian.

"Well, look at that. I believed that the Biàn huà was supposed to be-"

He stopped After his eyes fell on the younger monkey. 

His face was supported by his hand; he sat on the ground, his attention completely on you and your dance. His eyes were filled with such adoration that Shen wondered if even other deities had ever gotten the chance to be looked at that way. The breath of the monkey was deep and slow, like he was holding his breath, such that his attention was only on you. His tail moved slowly, almost mimicking or following you.

That glint in his eyes...Shen smiled a little, taking another sip from his cup./

//////

"And here I thought you could hold your alcohol."

Monkey smiled while covering you with your blanket. The fire that accompanied your little gathering was now long dead; everyone was calling for the night, especially the two of you since this one was just a small stop on your journey. You needed it, he thought, thinking on how much you endured and how much you became strong in the recent weeks.

In your sleep, you grabbed his hand, searching for the security of his own presence. That gesture made his chest warmer, more for the liquor that he ingested before. He caressed, taking your mind at ease. Where was he supposed to go without you, his beloved friend?

He strechet; he still needed to check on his armor with Yin, so he started to take his way out from Chen house, which he gladly decided to share with you two.

"It was a nice party; the view was... amazing too."

Shen was sitting on his usual spot, taking advantage of the still-burning furnace of his friend Xu. Despite the amount of liquor consumed, he still was holding another gourd, his cheeks holding a darker shade of color.

"The view?"

Asked monkey, confused by the forefather statement. Shen rose up, helping himself by holding the younger hand and putting his arm behind his neck. Enough space to talk, not enough to be heard.

"I noticed... That look on you came on; don't be shy with your forefather; tell me everything!"

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

Shen looked at Monkey, between some curiosity and suspicion. Was he really that stupid to haven't noticed something about himself?

"About our lovely friend, lady Y/n... don't tell me your feel nothing!"

"Of course not! I care for her! She's my friend!"

"I mean deeper..."

"Uh.. well, she's... courageous and... kind and... She has shown to have a God heart, and she's funny, and-"

"Okay, okay, so you... like her?"

"Of course I like her; she's my friend!"

Shen looked at him in indisbelief. Then he started to laugh, so high that Monkey feared that he would wake up everyone.

"I can't believe it! Little Brother, you're clearly falling for the lady! A deep fall!"

Monkey held his breath; he couldn't believe what he was hearing! Shen kept on snickering like a child, moving his tail like never before.

"I'm not! We're Just... We Need to... It's inappropriate!"

"Aaaaaw, you're like a cub learning about the beauty of the love season! Ah, love...the worst liquor! Sweet on the tongue, the worst hangover at the end."

He was even making fun of him! The furr of the younger was all Shaggy for the mocking from the eldest! Why he needed to point it out something so embarrassing! Gods, he was lucky that you were deep asleep in front of the alcohol; the idea to be even mortified in front of you was an awful idea!

"I suggest you take your step a little faster! I heard that your precious little Y/N is becoming quite popular."

"UUUGH!...I gave up!"

And so, between the laugh of the elders, Monkey marched to Yin forgery. He wanted nothing more than to avoid the subject! Damn, he preferred to be forced to fight the tiger even instead to think about it!

You and him together?! Absurd! You two were companions, friends! He promised you to get you home, and that was it! Nothing more, nothing less!

But, for some reason, that thought brought him a feeling of... loss. Once it was over, once Sun Wukong revival, you'd be gone. No more adventures, no more parties, no more talk between the two of you.

You'll be back to your normal and mundane life, and he'll be the monkey that helped the resurrection of the Great Sage...

And about the idea of others courting you, he felt uneasy, even angry! But it wasn't nice! Of course you would strike someone; you were amazing! And yet he didn't like it... No, he didn't like the idea of you with someone.

...Oh boy...

He started to run towards the tiger, hoping that a few strikes from him would free his mind from these thoughts. 

@sun-jglim

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[inf3ct3dd]

ACT 1. TROUBLE

summary: the plan hatches.

warnings: mentions of death, sex joke

wc: 3k

authors note: this fic has been my wonderfully niche vision for so long.... i hope you all enjoy

next chapter. masterlist

the unforgiving blaring heat of the desert was torturous.

the sun seemed to be beaming from right above, practically frying you and your companions skin as you treaded through the sand. one suffering the consequences worse than another, skin resembling a boiled lobster.

dry, chapped lips silently begging for water, only to be met with the sting of saltwater sweat dripping onto them. you can try to lick them away, but it will only worsen the pain. pain, your muscles ache and your bones feel as if they’ll crumble if you step forward once more. you needed…out.…of the heat……

ah, alas, a river! oh, how lovely, a quench to the terrible thirst…. you reach out towards it, cupping your hands to drink, and are met with the hot, cruel surface of a car door.

“are you done, r? you’re gonna set off the alarm.” ellie had destroyed your dramatic scene , rolling her eyes and slumping down on the concrete next to the car. her long ass jorts protected her skin from the heat of the ground.

“no, it can’t be! twas a mirage, my mind has fooled me!” draping a dramatic hand across your forehead, you’re met with a moist surface that you wipe away onto your shorts, falling next to the girl. your shorts however, did not protect you. you slightly hissed in pain, before bringing your knees to your chest.

“they shouldn’t have let you read othello. i think you’re actually going insane.” she bluntly remarks, offering you a light giggle.

your english teacher, honors english if you wanna brag, had just started a shakespeare unit, and you were over the moon. being the first to volunteer to read in class, writing your own gorgeous sonnets about even more gorgeous subjects , and torturing ellie with your constant chiming of “shall i compare thee to a midsummers day?”

“ugh, you hate to see a girl being theatrical.” with a quick roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms and pouted.

“yes, i do.”

ellie knew it wasn’t one of your actual sad pouts, like when she accidentally killed the snail you two found, but simply you being….theatrical. like your wonderful performance in the school musical last year, as sharpay in high school musical. was that fuckass blonde wig a disgrace? absolutely. but your wonderful acting skills distracted from it, or so you hoped.

“you know whats actually making me go insane? the fact that you made me walk to 7-11 in this heat!!! you tryna kill me?”

the taste of the slushy was still lingering in your mouth , along with the red color on your tounge, but the cold it brought was long gone.

“oh my lady, i would never do such a thing! but alas, i required a refreshment, and id hate to go alone.” ellie counters back in her own shitty-british accent , holding a hand to her chest.

“see, told you its fun.” you nudged her elbow with your own, sweaty limbs colliding with a gross “splat”.

“yeah yeah, whatever. you’re right about everything, my glorious queen-“

“indeed!” you interrupted, pout replaced with a cheeky smile.

you both sat for a second, catching your breath. your eyes wandered to ellies arms, and you noticed she had turned into a lobster. her arms were bright red and sunburnt, and you reached out to poke her.

“ow-fuck! why did you do that!!” she winced in pain, moving her arm away.

“jesus, why do you never put on sunscreen? you trying to get tan or something?”

“i didn’t think it would be this bad outside..”

“you’re stupid.”

“you’re mean..”

after a while of you both sitting in comfortable silence, both of your eyes fall on the vehicle across the street. it was the one thing you always loved staring at on this street. the ferrari was reflecting all the beams of ultraviolet hitting it, practically glowing in the humid hellscape. the dashboard and practically everything else was smothered in dust, the cause probably being its idle parking spot, same one it had been occupying since you and ellie were 5 years old. the black detailing and the shiny silver horse enchanted you, despite the cars mildly decrepit state. 13 years later, you wondered if it would even still run. wondered how the engine would feel rumbling underneath you as you pushed against the wind down the empty streets.

people always make driving seem so crazy and thrilling in movies. sharp turns, constant speeding, drifting, it was like the road was a rollercoaster. or maybe you had just watched too many fast and furious movies with your dad.

but every time you were in a car, you were calm. always having an arm out the window, sometimes waving your hand like the ocean, and others making finger legs and doing parkour off of the other cars. when it rained, especially at night, you’d always beg your dad to drive you around. you’d try to count the raindrops on the windshield , and often times you’d let the taps on the windows lull you to sleep.

you have many memories of your dad taking you on drives to get you to sleep. especially when you were younger, and didn’t want to go to bed because you ‘weren’t tired’. every time, he’d just say “you don’t have to sleep, just rest.” sometimes he’d sing the songs he burned onto his cds, other times he’d make lists of things you wanted to do the next day. but no matter what, within 10 minutes you were always out cold. most times he’d keep driving for a bit, just to make sure you were really sleeping, and then carry you as gently as possible up to your room.

now, you knew better than to try and make him carry you up the stairs. you’d have a dramatic stretch, and practically drag yourself to your house before flopping down on the couch. half of the time face first.

you never wanted to be the one driving, though. you didn’t trust yourself behind the wheel, thinking you’d get too relaxed and doze off the second you started driving. or get into a crash. every time you did bumper carts, you’d be the one annoying all the little kids by hitting them a thousand times with your car. plus, highways are scary as fuck.

but for some reason, every time you saw that car parked down your street, you imagined yourself behind the wheel. always with some of those cool ass driving gloves on, and the scorpion jacket ryan gosling had in drive. you’d drift like all those cool dudes in your dads movies, and never ever crash into anyone on the highway. you thought it was blessed with some spell that made everyone who drove it amazing at driving.

ellie had zero faith in you though.

“you’d total that thing in five seconds. do you not remember the last time you tried to drive?”

her rude remark reminded you of the “raspberry incident”, as you called it, from last summer. you were at your grandmas in the countryside, her in the passenger of her big ass suburban trying to teach you to drive in the raspberry fields. you had been pushing a bit hard on the gas a few times, making her tell you to “calm down” , but you were a damn good driver as far as you saw. but it allll went downhill when she made you practice turning. you had turned around one of the rows of berries perfectly, and you were driving a bit too fast to the next corner. but somehow, you turned on the wrong angle and drove straight into the berries. and to make things worse, you kept pushing the gas pedal on accident instead of the brakes. your grandma screaming at you to stop didn’t help much either. you had torn down no more than 1/5 of the row, but nothing happened to the car. a trip to the carwash and it was like nothing ever happened.

“that was soooo long ago. you weren’t even there either! what if i was just over exaggerating when i told you and it wasn’t that bad?”

“you calling yourself a liar?” ellie took a sip of her slushy. the one she made you take this whole treacherous journey for. she was somehow still nursing hers, while yours was in a trash can five blocks back.

“never. how are you still drinking that thing? we’ve been walking for like half an hour!” you grab the drink out of her hand, taking a sip for a biiit too long.

“hey! you can’t even ask? i spent my hard earned money on that thing.“

“oh please, it was only like 3 dollars. you sound like joel right now.”

you both chuckled. ellies dad acted just like yours, that’s probably why they’re such best friends. that and the two dead wives thing, they had a lot in common. and coincidentally, so did you and ellie. you knew each other since you came out of the womb. well, since you came out. ellie was there three weeks before you, and she never let you forget it. constantly on her “respect your elders” bullshit every time you punched her in the arm for stealing your food. you two were fighting over the same toys and blabbering to each other since birth. your parents were convinced you were some baby geniuses that had developed your own language with how much you ‘spoke’ to each other. you two always understood each other.

“whatever dude, i’d be a driving master in that thing. it’d probably be a total chick magnet too. i’d be cleaning that backseat every day.”

ellie poked you in the side at your joke, and you both shoved each other while you laughed.

“yeah, you and your spongebob boxers are definitely soooo seductive.”

“you can’t say shit, you have the matching patrick pair!”

almost half your closet was either clothes you took from ellies house, or ones you bought to match with her. your dad has a whole photo album of old pictures he took of you and her in your matching outfits. and you have a bin in the attic stacked to the brim with your matching halloween costumes. the one matching thing the two of you never took off was your necklaces. it was one of those basic hearts, two pieces of silver that fit together perfectly with “best friends” and an infinity sign engraved on it. you had begged your dad for it while you were at a beach store, and he reluctantly gave in. you had the ‘st ends’ side, and ellie had the ‘be fri’ one. no matter the occasion, even with the excessive amount of necklaces you always wore, that one was always a part of the stack. and ellie only ever wore the one. in fact, the only jewelry she ever wore was the bracelets you two had made for each other and her necklace.

“hey, they’re comfy! i love those things.”

“you know what i’d love?”

“deez nuts in your mouth??”

you slapped ellie on the arm , and she grabbed it in pain.

“fuck you! you know im sensitive right now!!”

“you’ll live. ANYWAYS, i was talking about the car.”

“pssht, who wouldn’t. who leaves a perfect 288 on the side of the road for this long?” ellies inner car-nerd spilled out,eyebrows furrowing in question.

you and ellie had dreamed of that car ever since you were barely taller than the side doors. pretending to drive it when she came over to yours, leaning against it as you ate your ice cream and accidentally setting off the alarm, even peering in through the windows occasionally. the white envelope with a small bulge always intrigued the two of you, desperately wondering what was inside of it. you’d never seen anyone get in or out of it, and you were surprised it lasted this long on this street.

“why’re you still on this anyway? its not like we’re gonna just steal it or something.”

when you stare back at her for a bit too long, she sighs at you and rolls her eyes. your dumb ideas almost always end horribly, and she wasn’t in for all that this summer.

like last year, when you two were working at this big outdoor restaurant. you had somehow convinced her to drive around one of the golf carts, and it ended with you accidentally ramming it into some dudes car. you both quit to avoid the guy, and you’ve never been back since.

“well, why not! i mean really ellie, I’ve seen you break into joels truck before. you could do it.”

it was an isolated incident. she had locked herself out of the car, and she used a random hanger she found in the mall parking lot to squeeze through the crack in the window and unlock the door.

“thats not the same as stealing some random car!!what if the dude who owns it is some mean gangster and he finds out we took his car and he fucking kills us??? or what if its full of a bunch of illegal shit and we get arrested while we’re driving it?”

“since when do you care this much about shit like that? you convinced me to keep a lizard in my closet for three weeks once. plus, do you really think anyone’s gonna come looking for it? that things been there longer than we’ve been alive.”

“even if we do steal it, what if it doesn’t even run anymore? and if it does, are we just gonna hotwire it every time we wanna drive?”

ellie was sadly thinking logically about this , and you weren’t having it. the pout on your face was growing bigger and bigger, and you rolled your eyes at her.

“you’re so boring.”

“im not boring, you’re just insane and impulsive.”

“besides, where would we even hide it? neither of us have a garage or anything.”

“you ask too many questions. come onnnn, this could be our little sappy senior year memory!! even if it goes like, totally wrong and we get arrested or some shit.”

you and ellies high school experience was..lackluster at most. no crazy adventures, no parties, no insane hookups, nothing. every movie about highschool you two had watched had completely lied to you, because it was boring as fuck. i mean, probably not for everyone else, but definitely for you two. this car would be a saving grace for you two, it could top off senior year perfectly.

“your idea of a great senior year memory is grand theft auto?”

“i mean, the games awesome. why not?”

she chuckled a bit at your bad joke, leaving a smile on your face. everything in her was telling her it was an awful idea, but you were giving her your most convincing puppy dog eyes, hands under your chin pleading to her.

you were amazing at persuading her, and the way your eyes practically sparkled when you spoke of even the mere idea of it sent her to the stars. how could she say no to you?

“…let me think about it.”

“WOOOO”

for ellie, ‘let me think about it’ was almost always code for yes. especially when it came to you. the two of you walked back to your house, ellie finally finishing her slushy. she chucked it in your garbage can before leaving you at your door. you tried to hug her goodbye, but she pushed you away.

“lobster skin. it still hurts. youll probably wanna hug me more tomorrow.”

and the next day, at 8:30, ellie showed up at your window with a toolbox smelling like aloe vera.

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Roomies - Edmund Pevensie x Reader Modern AU!

Word count: 4.2k

I just had a glorious idea about a modern Narnia AU. I'm not British so lmao. Football in this means Soccer. slay

Fem identifying reader. Mention of having long hair.

Summary: Edmund is an asshole AND your roommate. But he also happens to be a really attractive asshole roommate. And apparently, a really possessive one too.

Warnings: Language, smut, mutual pining, SO SWEET at the end!!

I'm down bad for him

"What time will you be back today?" You and Edmund were in the kitchen, eating breakfast before your day of classes began.

You glanced at him, shirtless in all his glory, eating a piece of toast. He was leaning on the counter, watching you butter your own.

"My writing class was canceled so I will be back around 1." Edmund audibly sighs, a sign that he will definitely have company over at that time. "Don't ask me to stay on campus. Just because you can't keep it in your pants doesn't mean I should be exiled from my own home."

Edmund pushes himself off of the counter, chuckling to himself.

"I wasn't gonna ask you anything. I just didn't think you'd be one to listen though." Before you could respond, he was gone.

Several hours later, you pulled into your parking spot in front of your and Edmund's apartment. You had since forgotten about your earlier conversation until you opened your front door to hear the oh-so-delightful noises of Edmund's newest friend moaning at the top of her lungs.

You have to stop yourself from gagging.

"Jesus." The time was 1:30. You had given him thirty extra minutes. "I fucking hate him." This was untrue, as you really did not hate the handsome man who you lived with. Underneath your facade of disdain and disgust, lay your actual feelings toward your roommate. Ever since he took his sister Lucy's spot in the lease for her year abroad, you developed a minor, (major!!!), crush on him. And your feelings of disgust? Totally not jealousy!

You had spent the better half of the last five months trying not to listen to him and his lady friends in his room and pining over him from yours.

How could you not be attracted to Edmund Pevensie? A pre-law major with dark hair and dark eyes, and a dashing smile. Not to mention the spatter of freckles that covered his body, toned from years of playing football. Jesus, you were down so bad for your flatmate.

You set your stuff down on the couch in your shared living space and turned to the sink where his dishes lay, unclean. Still able to hear the actions of the lovely people downstairs, you turn your music up all the way to drown out the noise before unloading the dishwasher and loading it again with his dishes.

Minutes later, the front door opens and closes, signifying that Edmund's friend has left. You turn your music down and focused on the plate you are scrubbing, dried mac and cheese would not come out in the dishwasher, as Edmund walked up the stairs.

"Ah. So you are home." His accent makes you smile the slightest bit. You can see him in your peripheral, shirtless with grey sweats low on his hips. You move your eyes away quickly. "Did you enjoy what you heard, darling?" Rolling your eyes, you look at him, not giving into the flutter of your heart when he called you darling.

"You're a pig, Pevensie." You weren't anticipating his next move and were startled when his lips were suddenly on your cheek.

"You love me."

"Ew!" Glaring at him, you wipe the wetness from his lips off of your face and then wipe your hand on a paper towel only to find him grinning at you. You do a once-over of his uncovered torso, which you could now see was adorned with scratches and bruises. "Go put a shirt on." Edmund glances down, smile widening, before looking back at you.

"And cover up the view? Nah." You move to put the plate you had been washing away in the cabinet and then suddenly, Edmund is behind you, his body only inches from yours.

You try to ignore the heat radiating off of his bare skin and how his fingers brush yours when he reaches above you to grab a bowl. He steps away quickly and if he noticed a change in your demeanor, he didn't bring it up. You left the kitchen area, grabbed your backpack, and went to your room.

How in the world did he have this effect on you? As soon as your door was closed and you were safe in the comfort of your bedroom, you let out a sigh of relief. A buzz pulled your attention from your feelings toward Edmund to your phone.

r u going to the party tn???

It was your friend Alyssa, whom you had met freshman year in your Intro to Psychology class.

You know I don't like parties.

You flop on your bed, awaiting her pleading response. In truth, you didn't hate parties, you just didn't see the point in going out and getting drunk with strangers when you could get drunk in the pleasure of your own home.

im coming over at 8 and we are getting ready together

You knew there wouldn't be a point in fighting her on the topic since sooner or later she would have convinced you to go.

Hours later, after Edmund had left for his evening classes, and also the party you presumed, Alyssa knocked on your front door and seconds later walked into your room.

"Is he here?" You sit up on your bed, your book falling onto your comforter beside you.

"No." Alyssa had gone straight into your closet, pulling out an outfit for you to wear.

"Good. That way he won't know you are going tonight." Your eyebrow quirks up.

"What does that mean?"

She turned to you, a smirk gracing her tanned face.

"We both know that if your roomie knew you were going tonight, he would have texted all his little friends to keep away from you."

This was true and it was annoying, but one night while drunk, you had let it slip to him that you were a virgin. Since then, Edmund had made sure that no guys would talk to you at parties.

You made no effort to argue and reached over to pick up what she had chosen for you to wear. It was simple, a pair of faux leather pants and a black lace corset. (the urban one iykyk)

"Alyssa, I haven't worn this top out-"

"All the more reason to wear it tonight! C'mon! It will be fun! Besides, maybe Ed will finally take notice of your feelings and how hot you are."

"Alyssa!" She smiles.

"Ok fine. But maybe you'll meet another guy. Since our good friend hasn't had time to scare anyone away."

The idea intrigues you, maybe you'd have a good time tonight.

You notice what she is wearing, a pair of straight-leg jeans and a black tank top. She looks amazing, as always. You get up to sit at your desk to begin applying your makeup.

"So what do you suppose he will do when he sees you looking all sexy?"

"Nothing?" Your reply earns you an eyebrow raise.

"Nothing? You don't think he's gonna react at all?"

You shrug, leaning forward to perfect your winged eyeliner.

"There is nothing he can do now. If he wants to try and ruin my night, he can go ahead. If I'm going to this party, I intend on having a good time." Alyssa giggles.

"Maybe even get laid?" You whip around in your chair to glare at her.

"Seriously?" Her laughter grows.

"Hey, if not by Edmund, you're bound to find someone at this party!"

Your heart beats faster at the thought.

...

You and Alyssa arrive at the party at around eleven. It has been going on for about an hour so it had grown quite large. The other girls around you are dressed similarly to you, bringing some comfort into the oddness you felt about your appearance. Alyssa had requested you wear your hair down and straight and you obliged.

To be honest, you did look amazing. The corset had been a perfect fit, makes your chest look fantastic, and the pants fit you like a glove, hugging your ass so well that when you saw yourself in the mirror, you were surprised. The look was completed with your dark green platform converse, which somehow made you feel comfortable.

While walking through the crowd of people, you keep your eye out for a certain raven-haired boy, but couldn't seem to find him.

"Hey, don't think about him. Just have a good time." Alyssa nudges your arm and you nod, disregarding the looming thought of Edmund's reaction to your appearance at the party.

"You're right. I'm gonna go get a drink." You leave her in a room filled with sweaty university students to find the kitchen, where you presumed the alcohol to be.

To be honest? You felt great. You looked great and with no Edmund around, you had nothing to worry about. If you wanted to flirt with a cute guy, you would.

You round the corner and spot the kitchen, and a pack of Trulys, and made a beeline for the drinks. As you fish a black cherry seltzer out of the box you hear someone call your name.

"Y/N!" You turn abruptly and came face to face with a familiar face.

Sam, a friend of Edmund's from football, smiling at you.

"How are you?" Sam is very attractive, with blond hair and sparkly blue eyes, he's the complete opposite of Edmund.

"I'm alright." You smile at him.

"I didn't expect you to be here."

"Yeah, it was kind of a last-minute decision." You take a swig of your drink as he smiles down at you.

"Well, I'm glad. I was hoping I would be able to speak to you at some point. Ed's always telling the team to stay away from you." You roll your eyes.

"Sorry about that, I don't know why he does that. Is he here tonight?" Sam nods.

"Yeah, he's somewhere around here." Sam glances around, as if nervous that he'd get in trouble for talking to you. "Do you wanna dance?"

"Sure!" Sam takes your hand and leads you back into the room where you left Alyssa, back to the loud music and dancing. It is then that you see Edmund for the first time.

He's walking down the stairs holding hands with a pretty blonde girl who is dressed in a dark green slip dress. You wrap your arms around Sam and pull him into your body. His hands settle on your hips, fingers hooking onto your belt loops and pulling you closer.

You make eye contact with Edmund and his eyes widen and then narrow at the sight of you with Sam. You can see him mouth something to the girl he is with but instead of paying attention to him, you focus on Sam.

The two of you dance to the music and you forget about Edmund. You realize you have run out of your drink and tap Sam's shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just need another drink! Give me like fifteen minutes. I need to check on my friend, too." You smile at him before returning to the kitchen, where you happen to find Alyssa.

"Hi!" Lord, she is drunk. "I've missed you! Where have you been?" You giggle at her antics, pouring yourself a shot of vodka, the burning causing you to make a face as you take it.

"I've been dancing! With a guy named Sam from the football team!"

Her eyes widen in shock and she grins at you.

"OMG. Fucking finally!" She takes the initiative to pour you, and her, another shot.

...

Ten minutes later, and maybe 4 more shots later, you and Alyssa are drunk off of your asses.

"So you're telling me that if Sam wanted to take you home tonight, you'd say no?" Her arm is clasped around your forearm.

"Yes." You can't contain your giggling.

"But why? He's so hot and obviously into you!"

Your face flushes as you think of the real reason you don't want to spend the night with Sam.

"You know why." You take a sip of your newly opened Truly and glare at her.

A deadpan look blooms on her face.

"I forgot." Your eyes roll.

"Because I like someone else!" Alyssa gets really excited at this news.

"WHO?" You shush her, her voice well above the other chatter in the small kitchen you are in.

"You know who!" Her face contorts into confusion.

"No, I don't."

"It's..." You look around, suddenly very aware through your drunken haze, just to make sure there aren't any lurkers to hear your conversation. "It's Edmund!" You whisper.

"Oh! I did know that!" She giggles and takes a sip of her drink. "Yeah, I remember how you said you were jealous of all of the girls he fucked and how you wished he would-"

"Jesus Christ, Alyssa! Shut up!" She continues.

"just fuck you already!" Your face is red and you are mortified. Anyone passing by could have heard what you had been talking about. "Don't worry babe. Everyone here is way too drunk to even remember this conversation. I'm too drunk to remember this conversation!" A small smile graces your lips. "So, how do you want him to do it?" You hit her arm.

"Alyssa!"

"What? I wanna hear about your Edmund fantasies!" Your blush deepens. "C'mon!"

"Fuck- fine. I've always imagined him..." You cannot believe you are speaking your deepest secret aloud, at a party nonetheless. "I don't know. Cornering me in the kitchen." Alyssa squeals.

"Counter sex!" The girl is fucking giddy at the thought of you getting some action in your kitchen. You roll your eyes but nod.

"I guess..." Suddenly, you remember the nice boy you had been dancing with. "Shit! I have to go find Sam! He probably thinks I ditched him. Will you be ok?" She smiles and nods at you.

You trek back into the masses to find the blonde guy and he's right where you left him. You catch his eyes and smile.

"Hey! I'm so sorry. I found my friend and we ended up talking for a bit. I didn't mean to leave you here." He doesn't respond right away and looks away from your eyes, glancing around. "Is everything ok? You look uncomfortable."

"Listen, you are really nice but I don't think this is gonna work out." Confusion wipes across your face.

"What the hell? We were just dancing!" You don't understand what you could have done to make him act this way.

"It's not you, really. It's just-" You cut him off, suddenly very aware of what was happening.

"He told you to leave me alone, didn't he?" Sam looks apologetic as he nods.

"I'm sorry, I really like you." You run a hand through your hair.

"I'm so fucking done with this." You leave Sam and look around for the dark mess of hair you know so well. You're pissed. Even though you weren't going to do anything with Sam, you were still glad to have the option. You decided then and there that you were done with Edmund deciding things for you.

You found him in the kitchen, drinking a beer and laughing with some of his football mates.

"Edmund!" His head turns to you and he grins. "Stop fucking with me!" You somehow have the courage to get all up in his face. His stupid, Goddamn handsome face. "Stop telling any guy I see to stop talking to me. It's my fucking life. Stay out of it."

Edmund licks his lips and his gaze rakes down your body, making you very aware of the fact you are in lingerie in front of your roommate.

"Whatever you say, darling." His friends laugh and you leave before Edmund can see your face heat up. You find Alyssa dancing in the other room and pull her aside.

"I'm ready to leave whenever you are. I can't be around him right now." She nods frantically.

"Omg. Ok. Yeah, let's go!"

The two of you leave the party and begin the, thankfully short, walk to Alyssa's place.

"Do you wanna stay the night?" You thought about what would happen if you went home, would Edmund be home tonight? Would he not? You remember the blonde from earlier.

"No, I'll get an Uber home. I don't think he's going to be home anytime soon and I'd like to sleep in my own bed." Alyssa nods and the two of you talk until your Uber arrives.

"Text me when you get home." You nod and hug her.

"I'm sorry for making you leave early."

"No! If one of us wants to leave, we leave. That's the rule." She ushers you out of her door. "Sleep well!" A grin appears on her face. "With visions of Edmund dancing in your head!"

"Fuck off!" You glare before getting into the car.

As you expect, Edmund is not at the apartment when you get back and you are able to go to your room without him and blondie interfering. A small bubbling of jealousy and anger blooms in your gut when you think about what he is probably doing right now. With her. Shaking it off, you brush your teeth and slip into bed before falling asleep.

...

You wake up the next morning with a splitting headache. Groaning as you roll out of bed, you close your blinds to make your room dimmer. As you go upstairs you listen for any movement in Edmund's room, praying he isn't home yet. You breathe a sigh of relief when you're greeted with silence on the other side.

As you walk up the stairs, you halt in your tracks as you see him sitting on the couch. Clad in grey sweats and nothing else, he makes your heart flutter, even though you are pissed at him. You don't engage with him at all, avoiding his gaze as you walk to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

While opening the bottle of Advil you hear Edmund move from the couch. You take the meds and open the dishwasher to put your glass inside. When you stand, Edmund is behind you, his hands set on the counter, effectively caging you in. Your breath catches in your throat.

"So, is this how you imagined it?" His voice is right next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Me fucking you in the kitchen?" Your eyes widen in shock. His lips graze your neck as he murmurs... "Answer me." Your words are stuck in your throat, thoughts going wild in your head.

Had he heard you and Alyssa last night?

You are brought out of your thoughts when Edmund dips his head further down and kisses where your neck meets your shoulder. "C'mon hun, let me make make you feel good." His lips travel up to your throat and you melt back into his body. He whispers in your ear, "Please?"

His hands leave the counter to rest on your waist, his fingers just slightly touching your bare skin where your shirt had been riding up moments before.

"Don't make me beg, love." He turns you around, bringing his body closer to you. You don't reply, too flustered with his actions to say anything. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Ok, fine. I'll beg." He grins.

Edmund's hands reach down to pick you up, setting you on the counter. He steps in between your legs, setting his hands on your thighs while his thumbs draw circles on your bare skin.

"Do you know how many times I've thought about surprising you in the shower? Just so I could see you naked?" His gaze is still trained on your eyes. "Do you know how many times I've heard you touching yourself in your room? Wishing it was me who was making you feel that way?" He looks down at your lips and then back up to your eyes. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this moment? Last night? After I saw you dancing with Sam in that outfit... You looked stunning, my love." He moves to be right above your face, his lips so close they could touch yours. "So many Goddamn times, baby. So please," He pouts the slightest bit. "Let me make you feel good."

Kiss me.

As if he could read your mind, he does. Your hands fly to his hair and pull him into you even more, his lower half fully against you.

And oh.

Oh.

You pull away, looking down at his hips with wide eyes. Edmund laughs.

"Darling this is what you do to me. Every." He kisses your shoulder. "Bloody." Your neck. "Day." Your jaw. He pulls away so you are able to see him. His perfect hair, and his perfect smile, and his perfect freckles.

And the fucking devil in his eyes.

"So are you going to let me act on your fantasies? Or are we just going to go back to you thinking about me when you touch yourself at night and me pretending not to get off on it?" You lean forward to kiss him again and he leans back, running his tongue over his lips. "Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?" A deep blush blooms on your cheeks.

"Yes." It's barely above a whisper but it's audible. When he hears your response, he smiles again.

"Fucking finally."

His lips return to yours and his grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you against him again. You tighten your thighs around him, reveling in the taste of his lips.

"Oh my God." He murmurs against your lips. Your hands travel down his neck and to his bare shoulders and your nails dig into his skin just a bit, making him hiss in sweet pain.

"Fuck." His hands start to pull at your shorts. "Off. Now." You lift yourself up so he can pull them down, along with your underwear. He groans as he looks down. "Bloody hell." One of his hands wipes over his face, taking you in. His bottom lip pulls in between his teeth as he looks into your eyes again. "Darling, I'd absolutely love to taste you but I'm afraid I'll explode if I don't fuck you soon." His fingers find his waistband and he pauses at your wide eyes. "Do you want to do it?"

Holy Hell you can feel the effects of his words on the surface below you. He gently grabs your hands, setting them on his hips. "Go ahead." You do as your told and push the fabric down his thighs. You look away, not quite ready to take witness to your roommates dick.

"I need you to say it one more time. Do you want this?" You look into his eyes.

"Yes." He smiles, his lips on yours and brings himself to your core.

"Take a deep breath, my love." When you do, Edmund pushes into you. The pain takes you by surprise and you let out a grunt of pain. He catches your lips with his and draws patterns on your skin with his free hand. Your nails dig into his back once again and he groans into your mouth when he bottoms out. "If you keep doing that I'm not going to last long." He begins moving very slowly. The pain slowly becomes pleasure. "I wanna make this good for you."

You drop your head to his shoulder.

"Oh my god, Ed it's-." His mouth is close to your ear making you hear all of the sounds he's making. "Fuck!"

"Holy shit."

"Ed-" You gasp, hands on his shoulders, as he stops moving.

"Please don't make me stop. I've been wanting this for so long." He lays his forehead on your shoulder and you can tell it's taking every ounce of his self-control not to move.

"No- I was just gonna ask if..." You pause to catch your breath. "if you could go faster.

"Jesus. You're perfect." His breath on your skin makes you flush again and then, the wonderful sensation you had felt moments before begins again.

"You're doing so well, love. So well."

Edmund begins to pick up his pace and you whine into his neck.

"Oh-" Edmund's fingers are suddenly on your clit, forcing your thighs to tighten around his. Your hips rock into his as you feel yourself begin to near your high. With his fingers on your clit, his bruising grip on your thighs, and his fucking dick inside of you, it takes only a few more seconds before you are releasing around him. Edmund moans after feeling you squeeze around him and it's the sexiest thing you've ever heard.

"You're so fucking perfect."

He releases soon after and he catches his breath.

He pulls away, looking at your face.

"Are you ok?" You smile.

Despite his asshole actions of the past 24 hours, Edmund does truly care about you. He's always taken care of you. He always made sure you had dinner, would always cover you with a blanket if you had fallen asleep upstairs, always made you tea and soup when you were sick.

"I'm perfectly fine." You grin at him.

You remember all of his comments to you, all of the pet-names he's called you.

"Ed, how long? How long have you wanted this?" He grins back at you.

"My love it was you the moment Lucy brought you home to visit during Christmas."

"Edmund that was three years ago!" His smile grows.

He dips down to kiss you.

"I'm a patient man."

Wait i heart them

I hope that was enjoyable l o l.

[povlnfour]

congrats on 1k!! for the drabble gamee can u do jenson button x supermodel or victoria’s secret angel readerr?? set in the 2000s thank youu and congrats again! 🫶

AH YES I CAN (extra kisses for u jenson is my fav)

from the 1k drabble game

ੈ✩‧₊˚ JENSON SUPPORTING YOUR MODELLING CAREER

— it was an open secret that one of victoria secret’s newest angels was dating up f1 superstar jenson button. the two of you had never shared the details of your relationship, but paparazzi photos and little easter eggs had meant that everyone knew you were together.

— once the secret was out, jenson took advantage of it.

— he would come to every show that his schedule allowed, usually sat front row with other drivers on the grid that were lucky enough to get an invite. you enjoyed every show he was at, but the main event was a personal favorite because you got to interact with the crowd.

— most of the time, you’d be focused on your walk and showing the clothing off to its best ability, but the victoria secret fashion show meant you could show a cheekier side to yourself. this included setting tabloids alight with you relationship.

— you had spotted him the first time you walked down the runway, keeping your focus on your strut. you were saving it for the big moment. it was when you donned the iconic angel wings and took off during the music artist’s performance that you made the most of your boyfriend in the crowd.

— katy perry lead you down the runway mid performance, holding your hand and helping you twirl without the wings getting caught. as you reached the mid point of the stage, she gave you a wink and spun you to where jenson was sat.

— you bent down, blowing a kiss in your boyfriends direction. jenson pretending to catch the kiss and ‘faint’ warning a glorious laugh from yourself that was caught on camera.

— the papers called you ‘the new it couple’.

[jinbedreams]

Exposed Bone

Pairing: Brook x Jimbei One Piece, Fishbones Content: General Audience, old man crushing Word Count: 944

Note: God I never write fic, so this is barely anything, but Brook and Jimbei seem to have made enough noise in my brain that I had to change that. I blame @badly-drawn-doflamingo for making me think about fishbones. Maybe I will write more of this at some point. ~~~~~~~

Brook is a conundrum, a soul with no body, a body with no flesh, a mind inside an empty skull, and no heart in his chest. Yet he lives, somehow he lives, he has no choice. 

He also feels. His emotions weave through him, with no skin to shiver through and no muscles to clench they can overtake him like a wave. Where else does his music come from but his emotions? How else does he know he is truly alive without them? He has no belly to laugh from but he laughs all the same. He has no chest to ache with sadness but he aches all the same. No tear ducts to weep with yet it is impossible to prevent the flow. 

He feels purely through his soul, and sometimes if he does not think too hard he can almost feel his flesh sing with these emotions too, like a phantom limb all over him. 

He avoids thinking about the absence of the warmth of touch on his skin at all times. 

He spent 50 years alone, his bones picked clean and smooth, he cannot change what has happened. He is simply grateful he is no longer alone. 

“That’s beautiful” 

If Brook had eyelids he would have opened them but instead his gaze simply refocuses on the big blue shape that has moved in close to him here on the top deck of the Sunny. 

“Yohoho” Brook chuckles as he pulls his violin out from under his chin.

“Thank you Jimbei” he smiles (he can do nothing but smile in these bones) 

“Is that a new . . ah, piece ? that you’ve been working on?” Jimbei asks, his deep baritone voice rumbles and not for the first time does Brook find himself wondering if Jimbei would ever consider putting those big lungs to use in song. 

“I suppose it is” Brook inspects the instrument, plucks at a string with a bone pick of a finger. 

“I was simply going with the flow, I suppose” he says thoughtfully 

“Ah” Jimbei nods “I know all about traveling the flow . . “ 

Brook cocks his head curiously towards Jimbei, sensing he is missing something from the way the fishman spoke. 

“Helmsman joke” Jimbei smiles, an obvious reference to one of Brooks recurring bits, and then laughs. 

That glorious big belly laugh, his face turned up, eyes scrunched up, rows of sharp teeth on display. It’s one of the most intoxicating laughs Brook has ever heard and he never tires of it. 

“Jimbei you kill me” Brook teases as he laughs. 

Their laughter peels off as Brook turns to lounge against the railing Jimbei is leaning forward on. He picks the violin back up to tuck it under his jawbone and pluck it for tuning. 

“Oh, but wait, I already died,” Brook chuckles. 

This time Jimbei only smiles, a soft look. Brook redirects his gaze from the fishmans face before he can identify the moment that soft look turns to pity. He’s not sure if it will but he would rather not take the chance. He hears Jimbei take a breath as if to speak and braces himself for the concerned lecture, wise and careful, the way he has heard Jimbei advise Luffy and many others before. 

“Play me another” 

Brook turns to look at him again, unsure if the surprise is readable on his blank emotionless skull of a face. Jimbei is still smiling, open and gentle and bright, like a calm ocean at sunset. Brook busies himself with the G string immediately, trying to recover from being set so suddenly and unexpectedly adrift by the expression. 

“Of course my good sir!” Brook slips into an exaggerated character of himself, hamming it up as the merry musician of the Thousand Sunny. It’s safer there, when he is less himself and more of a performance of himself instead. Why would he explore his feelings when he can just let the Soul King express them for him. He strings out a merry tune for Jimbei, an old song about a drunken fisherman catching a mermaid for a wife, neither of them sure which one drinks more like a fish. It only occurs to him halfway through the song that this is a rather old one from before he died and could possibly be considered uncouth in Fishmen society today. 

However when he glances over at Jimbei he sees the man smiling with genuine amusement and laughing at the funniest moments. This is both a relief and also a curse as the sight of that smile sends goosebumps across his phantom skin. He takes a deep breath to steady his phantom lungs between verses and finishes off the song by pushing off the railing and dancing with aplomb. 

“Oh I enjoyed that very much” Jimbei chuckles and applauds with gusto. Brook does a few deep bows, in a very becoming and gentlemanly manner. He tries to remain composed but the sight of Jimbei so joyful has him almost twitching from the overstimulation. All these emotions with no body to express them. It almost feels like he wants to jump out of his skin . . oh but it seems he already has. 

Instead he decides to put his violin back into its case, taking care to tuck it into the shaped depression, laying the bow by its side. He finds himself considering how bonelike it is for this instrument to be compressed safely inside a perfectly shaped casing. He must have paused noticeably because he hears Jimbei ask, 

“Everything alright?” 

“Why yes of course! I simply grow tired of playing for the moment, perhaps instead we could have some tea?” 

“I would like that”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I'm not good at writing these but can we please see an interaction between Rollo and Trein and maybe Lucius? I really like the idea of Trein being a mentor figure to Rollo since Trein says he will keep an eye on him at the end of Glorious Masquerade. I don't know how the interaction would be structured but I'll leave that up to you if you choose to write this!

Yessss 😭 YOU GET IT, Trein could be a great mentor to Rollo…

For the last hour, Rollo had been nursing a growing migraine. The bumping music, the horde of guests, his inner voice counting off all the work still yet to be done. Each was another icy nail driven into his skull. Two glasses of grape juice were not enough to dull that buzz that clouded his mind.

Rollo had excused himself from making social rounds to fill up on refreshments—but he knew it wouldn't be long before someone came by to drag him back into the fray.

He slumped forward in his seat, catching his forehead with one hand. In his other hand, he clutched onto his third serving of grape juice. His only solace in these trying times.

Rollo exhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut. A silent prayer was at his lips.

Lord help me persevere. I am surrounded by idiots, beseeched to engage with them…!! Why must I endure this madness?!

A sudden softness came down on his nose.

“Mrow.”

Startled, Rollo immediately shot up. His grape juice nearly spilled, had a quick paw not catch the rim and keep it upright.

A plump cat had appeared on the table, staring at Rollo through sharp golden eyes. Its coat was a glossy black, the tip of its fluffy tail, chest, and muzzle a fine white. The cat meowed again, releasing its hold on the almost-fallen cup.

“Good day to you, Flamme.”

An older man appeared, scooping up the feline in his arms. His stern, bony face had been carved out with lines like the rings in a tree's core, his hair--streaked in shades of salt and pepper--slicked back from his forehead. He was dressed in a sharp suit and cravat, long maroon robes spilling over them.

“Mozus-sensei.” Rollo automatically straightened. “I was not aware that you were among those in attendance. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

"Quite a large number of students wished to leave campus for an important function. I am serving as the chaperone to them. Were it only one or two boys wishing to leave, I would not be needed to supervise." Trein gave a papery smile. "Ah, but it looks as though you have too many companions to keep them away."

Rollo attempted at a polite laugh behind his handkerchief. “Yes, it seems they feel the need to shower me with their attention.”

“I take it you do not favor these circumstances.”

“… Is it that easy to tell? I thought I was hiding it as best as I could.”

“You are sitting alone in a corner with nothing more than a drink in hand to keep you company,” Trein tactfully pointed out. “I understand. These events have the potential to wear one down. A moment of peace and quiet can be restorative.

"As for myself, I find that sitting down and stroking my dear Lucius helps after a long day. Would you like to give it a try? It just may soothe you as well."

Trein shifted, holding out Lucius to Rollo. The cat stared expectantly at the student, its tail swishing back and forth like a metronome.

Rollo's eyes widened. “What? No, I couldn't possibly...!"

Too late, Lucius had already been placed into his lap. The cat's body was almost liquid, pooling and settling into his new resting spot. Lucius was warm and soft, like the wings of an angel.

Rollo grimaced.

A familiar was on him, some mangy animal that had been mucking around who knows where before making contact.

"He likes to be scratched behind the ears and under the chin," Trein coaxed, demonstrating. "The head and back are safe too."

Rollo reluctantly followed Trein's instructions, his fingers sinking into the depths of Lucius's fur and awkwardly petting. Soon, the cat was purring contentedly.

“Aaah, Lucius. You’re so adorable and good with children," Trein cooed. "I think he likes you, Flamme."

"Does he?" Rollo looked doubtful--not that he had any particular interest in befriending a mage's familiar to begin with. Am I meant to feel flattered by that comment?

"Of course. I don't mind if you wish to stay a little longer and become better acquainted with Lucius." Trein motioned to the empty seat across from Rollo. "May I join you?"

He hesitated, considering. Between returning to the raging party and remaining in respite... Rollo warily glanced between his two options, and his answer immediately became clear.

"... I don't see why not," he said at last, relenting. Rollo had a fistful of Lucius's fur in his hand as he got the words out.

"Excellent. I've been meaning to catch up with you." Trein sank into the chair and folded his hands together. "Now then, how have you been? It's been a while."

The conversation that followed flowed like wine. Easily poured, and just as easily downed. It tasted clean and smooth upon his palate, clearing away the bitterness that had pervaded all day.

The glass of grape juice sat there, forgotten.

[lvrhughes]

King of my Heart | N. Hischier

word count: 1.5k

pairing: Nico Hischier x gn!reader (I think pls correct me if I’m wrong)

summary: at a team dinner it finally hits you, Nico is all you want.

warnings: none?

requested: no

not my gif!

you met Nico when he joined the devils, you just being hired, him just joining the team. You two became best friends fast.

He was always there for you, if you were sad, if anything happened, if you did something and you were proud, he was right there supporting you. Everyone always assumed there was something more, you two were so close, always. Out for dinner or watching a show on the couch, you two were almost always touching.

“You two are such a cute couple, what can I get for you?” That was a commonly heard sentence that it came to the point you both stopped correcting people.

I mean being assumed to be dating your best friend of 6 years, daily, was normal, right?

“Nico!” You squealed as he picked you up and spun, he was finally home from a roadie.

“I missed you” he said, placing your feet on the ground and shoving his face in your neck. You giggled, the scruff on his face tickling you slightly.

“I missed you too”

“There’s a team dinner tonight, your coming.”

“I don’t even have a choice anymore?” You asked, a clear joking tone. You were going either away, if he had asked you or told you.

“Come on Y/n/n, you knew you were coming either way.”

You laughed and pulled him down onto the couch, him falling on top of you. This was a normal place for you two, cuddling was basically a daily activity.

“Okay come on, we should get going.”

“Nooo, I just got home I don’t want go out again.” Nico mumbled into you. He would never admit it but all he ever wanted was to be yours, to cuddle you and kiss you everyday, but he couldn’t risk the friendship so he’d take what he could get for now.

“Up, up, Neeks. We’re going to dinner.”

It took a bit of bribery, more cuddles as soon as you guys get home, but finally you were both out the door and headed to dinner.

“Ah they’ve arrived!” Jack was quick to greet you both, and immediately start telling you how insufferable Nico was because he wouldn’t stop talking about you.

A blush covered your face, you loved Nico, everyone knew that but you loved Nico in a more then a friendship way. But you wouldn’t even admit that to yourself, so you played the blush off as you get flustered when anyone talks about you.

Dinner was fun, obviously on a high from all the wins, team dinner was held at a random bar. There was drinks and dancing all the night. You and Jack had talked for a bit before he left to find someone to dance with, Nico had been quick to disappear to the dance floor after a few drinks, hence leaving you with Dawson to talk.

“You know, Nico really loves you. You’re really lucky.”

“I know, I love him too”

“No not like that, Y/n. He loves you, more then you think.”

Before you could even comprehend what he said Nico was pushing his way back to you. His hair was sweaty and in his face. He looked glorious. The lights were shining on him just right and the way his hair fell was perfect.

Holy shit. You were in love with Nico. All at once, it all came crashing down on you.

“Come dance with me” Nico yelled over the music. You were still frozen, staring at him with awe. Dawson swiped his hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your gaze.

“Shit, sorry Neek, what’d you say?”

“Come dance”

He waited no time for a reply he took your hand and pulled you onto the dance floor. It was crowed, you were pushed against Nico. This was not helping you figure anything out, you had just realized your in love with your best friend, was a lot.

“What’s wrong?”

Fuck he noticed.

“Nothing Neeks, I’m fine.” You lied but he was a bit tipsy so he couldn’t notice it. Soon he was back to jumping around and dancing, forcing you to join him. It was so fun. You two would occasionally stop for drinks but go right back after, you both were out there til final call.

You and Nico had walked to the bar, only living 10 minutes away, so you started your trek back. You were a bit tipsy now and Nico was completely drunk at this point. And now Nico was extra needy.

“Baby, I just wanna hold youuu” he whined the entire walk back, all he wanted was to lay with you and hold you, he made that very clear.

“Come on Nico, you need to go to bed.” You finally had gotten home and Nico inside but now he wouldn’t even go in his own room.

“But Baby, I wanna cuddle.” He words were slightly mumbled together but he was getting his point across.

You gave up. He clearly wasn’t going go bed so you’d comprise.

“Nico, we can cuddle as soon as you change, okay?”

He didn’t even answer he just stumbled over to his room before coming out not even a minute later in sweats and a tee-shirt.

You fell done onto your bed, while he was getting changed you had ran in to your room to change, he found you quickly, and opened your arms. He fell into them in an instant.

“Come on, let me get comfy. Then you can sleep in here tonight, okay Ni?”

“Mhm” Was all he mumbled before slightly lifting himself so you could move, as soon as he deemed you looked comfy, he threw himself back on you.

“Umph” was all you could use to describe the sound you made as he landed on you, quickly he cuddled into you.

“Okay Neeks, let’s sleep now.”

“Okay” was all he said, right before he passed out. You ran your hand threw his hair. It was so soft.

“What am I going to do?” You whispered, looking down at Nico.

You had managed to fall asleep pretty quickly after that though, Nico’s body heat lulling you into sleep. You woke up in the morning, no Nico.

“Nico?” You call through the house. No answer. Odd.

You got up slowly, your head had a slight pounding but you chose to ignore it. You walked into the kitchen, Nico still wasn’t there but there was a fresh pot of coffee. You quickly poured yourself a cup before taking it with you to find Nico. You walked into the living room, still not there. The bathroom? Nope. The pantry? Still no. Finally it came down to his room or the laundry room. You chose his room.

“Nico?” You asked through the door, yet still no answer. Gently you pushed the door open, you found Nico pacing the room, his phone to his ear, speaking rushed and panicked in German.

it took less then a minute for Nico to notice you, he stopped pacing to look at you, then end his call.

“Good morning” was all he said.

“Nico what is going on?”

“Nothing”

You shook your head, you knew he was going to tell you now, why keep pushing. You walked over and feel on his bed, having left your coffee in the bathroom on accident. He follow in suite, laying beside you.

“Nico?”

“Yes?”

you took a deep breath, this might ruin everything, hopefully Dawson was right.

“I love you.”

“I love you too”

Fuck. This is harder then you thought.

“No Nico, I am in love with you.”

When he didn’t say anything you looked over at him. He was just starting at you.

“Nico?”

He pushed his lips against your fast. You barely had time to react before he pulled away.

“Shit, I’m so sorry I should’ve asked-“

You cut him off with another kiss. He was quick to reciprocate, his arm shaking around your waist, his other holding your jaw. You hands tangled in his hair.

When you finally pulled away, you were both out of breath.

“I am in love with you too.” Was the only thing said, by Nico, before kissing you again.

“I’ll never get tired of that” he mumbled against your lips, your lips curving into a smile at his words.

“Your all I want Nico.”

“I’m all yours baby”

bonus part

“Hey Ni?”

“Hmm?”

“Who were you on the phone with? You sounded panicked.”

“My mom. When I woke up this morning I couldn’t take it anymore, I called her to confess I loved you and I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.” He explained. He was going to tell you he loved you today, you just beat him to it.

You laughed lightly as he shyly smiled.

“Don’t laugh” He said with a smile, hiding himself in your neck. He began to place kisses on your neck.

“Ni” you warned.

“what’s wrong, Baby?”

His look was playful, matching the energy of a golden retriever.

“Be careful where you plan on taking this, Hischier.”

he laughed in response and let his head fall to your chest.

[therealvinelle]

You mentioned Love never dies in one of your recent podcast episodes. I would love to hear if you have any more thoughts about that you would like to share here?

Oh little do you know.

@theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin and I first watched Love Never Dies when Andrew Lloyd Webber released musicals for COVID, it was instantly the most incredible thing either of us had ever seen and we watched it again as soon as Muffin came online the next day.

We have since rented it, rewatched it before the 48 hour rent period expired, and I think watched it a fifth time somehow though I don't recall the details for it. It's... very possible we watched it thrice that rent period. One of them was broadcast to the Rank Heresy discord server, so it did have a purpose, we just... also rewatched it...

Love Never Dies is the single funniest, most delightful, most entertaining and glorious musical we have ever seen. Everything about it, from the uncomfortable incest anthem, to TEN YEARS OOOOOOOOLD, to the nonsensical "Devil takes the hindmost!" leitmotif (thought I was having an English fail, but no, Muffin had no idea what that meant either), to the Phantom's great artistic vision being a Coney Island circus extravaganza where girls sing about swimsuits, to said extravaganza hemorrhaging money so Meg has to prostitute herself to keep the lights on, to Christine dying at the end and Ralph says to the child he raised, "Aight son, hope you like phantoms because you'll be living with one from now on. Kk bye", to ALW being so mad the ugly guy he projected on lost the girl that he wrote the whole thing in the first place (um actually Christine loved the Phantom so after the ending scene where she chose Raoul she actually ran back into the opera basement, made love to the Phantom, then ran back again to Ralph. It was a night of passion and the song about it will take ten minutes. Beneath a Moonless Sky, my beloved. Also Raoul is a stupid idiot who spent all his money and Christine regrets everything).

And yes, the above list was only going to be a few lines long but I couln't stop naming beautiful things I loved.

Oh my goodness, another thing I almost forgot (which is sayign something!): the Phantom finds out Christine and Raoul have a child, his immediate response is "Ah, yes, it would be a shame if something... happened... to that child..."

Proceeds to get the child on his own while his parents are distracted, only the child starts playing the piano... my god... the child is ten years old... MY GOD...

This is where we get the incest anthem, the Phantom drops the infanticide plans and starts serenading his son about the beauty underneath, a terrible intense impulse you must follow, and desires we deny ourselves, how his son will accept and embrace it, and... the lyrics are just so bad, alright, and the acting somehow made it worse. Watch at your own peril.

Wild fucking ride.

[moonyasnow]

Hello!

I saw that your requests are open, and was wondering if you could maybe write the „dancing in the dark with him“ thing for Rook?

It’s your favourite fic of mine so far!!

This is my first time requesting + English isn’t my first language, so I hope I did this right, I’m sorry if not ^^“ pls take as much time as you need!

Dancing in the Dark: 2

PROMPT : Dancing in the dark with him

(This is the 2nd entry of 'Dancing in the Dark'! The first one, featuring Idia, can be found here)

CHARACTER(S) : Rook

TYPE : Short fic (~1.2k words)

CONTENT: PLEASE forgive my French I used Google Translate ; ;, Reader is implied to not like crowds, very brief mention of some of my OCs in the background, takes place during Glorious Masquerade but has no spoilers

The stone-columned hall swelled with music, its polished marble floors reflecting the candelabras to cast a dreamlike candlelight over the room.

'Comme une histoire.'

Oui. Like a scene from a storybook. And out of second nature, he watched.

Watched his dear Chevalier de la Reine and Monsieur Pommétte dance, the former attempting to teach the latter. Watched Roi de Neige in all his glory, kindness radiating from him. Indeed, it had been a delight to observe him so closely on this trip.

Yet still… His eyes were drawn to a small corner of the dance floor, one where few would look, to see you twirling in the small circles of a makeshift waltz, your feline companion in your arms to indicate him your dance partner.

It was true that he had been enjoying this chance to watch Roi de Neige up close. Yet, as had begun to be commonplace as of late, he found his attention drifting from his target, and towards you. He'd found himself drifting even from his Roi du Poison. Like a planet caught in your orbit. Or a comet, perhaps? Bound to burn in your orbit, ashes scattering to the winds of your skies, never again to leave?

As he pondered over the nature of your magnetism, he saw the tell-tale signs of fatigue grace your features. That meant you'd be going to seek out solitude. Crowds had a tendency to tire you out, he was well-aware. He had once compared you to the Mimosa Pudica; the 'Touch-Me-Not'.

For a split second, your eyes locked with his, across the ballroom.

Ah, had you known he was watching you?

His heart beat wild with excitement as he began to weave his way, seen yet unnoticed, across the throngs of people on the floor. What a wonderful feeling! One he knew well, surrounding himself with beauty that touched his soul. Yet your particular charms had their own flavor of allure.

And like a bee to nectar, he found himself craving to know more of it.

He caught you in the dark of the courtyard, away from the lights of the venue, the moment you stepped outside for some fresh air. He stepped lightly, on the tips of his toes, simply as second nature to him. But he knew you were easily spooked. -snap- So for your sake, he stepped on a twig to foretell his arrival...

"It isn't very wise to separate from the herd, mon oiseau."

You turned around to face him.

"Oh, Rook." You pretended to act surprised, like you hadn't been expecting this.

He could see it in your eyes. The anticipation. He felt it, too, charging the air. Perhaps you thought that he had you right where he wanted? He let out a chuckle at his thought. Did you believe this to be the end of your little chat perché? There was still so much of you for him to discover.

The more you kept your secrets close to your chest, the more he desired to know of them. And each time you let the hunter a step closer to the core of your heart, he was sliced deeper with the sweet sting of love.

It was a long, slow game. And he loved every second.

"People saw me leave; I'll be fine, I think. It's not like you'd hurt me."

"Non. Indeed, I would not. But I urge you to caution all the same; I would not want some other predator to snatch you up for themselves."

He smiled that enigmatic smile of his that made mere slivers of his eyes visible, the one that always sent your heart racing. He definitely knew what he was doing. It was just unfair sometimes.

"So you admit you're a predator?"

Thinking it over with a hum, he strode toward you.

"It is true that a hunter is not unlike a predator. It is such a delight to observe you in a new environment. Yet," Taking your hand gently in his own, he swept his cape back and bent his knee to deliver a kiss to the back of your hand. "far lovelier still," his eyes captured your own "to see you flourishing in your natural environment, where I may be graced with sides of you not visible to others."

"'Natural environment'…you mean alone in a dark corner?"

"Non, mon petite." he rose from the ground in a fluid motion, shaking his head. "Away from the prying gaze of others. Being observed, you always behave differently than when alone."

"So then here, where there is none but you and I, voulez-vous danser?"

He would have loved to teach you French, if only you had asked. Yet the way your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion each time he spoke it and did not translate himself was too lovely, he feared, for him to offer to teach you himself. The color of your cheeks tinged darker when you saw his outstretched hand and realized what he'd meant, and he heard your breath hitch, the sound sweet music to his ears. Without a word, you took his hand.

Looking at you now, face the very image of one absolutely besotted— much such as himself, he imagined— it was almost hard to imagine you were scared of him when first you met; uncomfortable by his watching... Oui, your expression of unease was beautiful as well. Yet he could not claim to miss it. Not when he was allowed to see the sight before him in that very moment.

When, then, had that aversion turned into this? To flushed cheeks in his presence, subtly trying to stand closer? Though of course, nothing was ever too subtle for him not to catch it.

He knew when. For he had engraved the precise moment into the very flesh of his heart. Did you know when? Ah, non, this wouldn't be something he'd tell you. He would much rather watch you realize it for yourself.

Held delicately in each other's arms, swaying gracefully to the three-step rhythm of the waltz, you seemed almost to be floating over the grass and stone of the courtyard, spinning in circles around the well.

'Just like...'

He found himself laughing.

"See, the way we're spinning around the well? Almost as though it was our point of gravity. It made me think of us akin to twin moons, orbiting the same planet."

"Where do you get it all..."

He'd thought of you as someone else to be figured out, even as he fell deeper for you.

Yet with his eyes opened by the image newly sprung into his mind...

'Maybe I'll let you keep your secrets.'

He knows when. Engraved the precise moment into the very flesh of his heart. Do you know when? Ah, non, this won't be something he'll tell you. He'd rather watch you realize it for yourself.

Might you be able to keep this up for the rest of your lives, he wondered?

He held your waist closer, touching his forehead almost reverently to your own, eyes closed in bliss. "Mon cœur..." he sighed

In other circumstances, he might think he was dying to find out. But for once, no.

He'd rather hold back; let the mystery warm his heart.

He had believed himself to be the one cornering you.

'Mais, mon ange... There in your hands, I see my own heart'

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope my use of French wasn't too atrocious! ; I vI) And to the anon who requested this, I hope you liked it! ^^

I guess this is a series now??? I was originally planning to include more than just Idia in my initial post, so I'm not unprepared at least!

Oh— but definitely don't expect me to make one of these for EVERY character. Having the exact same prompt 22+ times would get SO reppetetive But more requests are very much welcome!

[arc-misadventures]

The VTuber: The Songstress

Errant: Haaaa…

(Thud)

A dull thud was heard as, Errant’s head struck the table, thus was his reaction to receiving the the end title screen after losing a game on survivalist, endurance mode whilst playing, Frostpunk.

Errant: I don’t get it? I can do a lot of these maps on medium difficulty, but this one. I just can’t do it?! I mean, it’s the same map as the, Refugees Scenario, and yet I keep losing? Why?

~~~Stream Chat~~~

Kingsbane: GG

FallenStarDrop: GG

VoluptuousFox: GG

PengoQueen: GG

~~~~~~

Errant: Okay… Coal, and people to mine said coal… If I had more of those, I probably would have lasted longer. Could I have one? Possibly, but, well you don’t exactly win, Endurance mode games, just last a long time till you’ve had enough of it. But, why can’t I win this map?!

~~~Stream Chat~~~

Junipz: I’ll stay with you to the bitter end captain!

FallenValkyrie: Your voice is devine!

TempestPotato: All hail our glorious leader!

~~~~~~

Errant: Pfft.

Errant laughed for a brief moment as he read the chat knowing full well that these were things said by the NPC’s in game, although, he knew some of them meant it in another way.

Errant: Alright, once more onto the breach, or shall we play something el… Hmm?

Errant looked up upon hearing the sounds of blades clashing to see that a donation had been made.

Errant: Hey, DestinyForsaken, thanks for the, $20 donation, I greatly appreciate it. And, there’s a message attached to it… “Hey, Errant how about taking a break, and watching the new music video from, SnowAngel?” SnowAngel? SnowAngel, SnowAngel…?

Errant drummed his fingers atop his desk, his eyes looking heavenwards as they dart back, and forth, his mind deep in though as he tried to recall which streamer went by the name of, ‘SnowAngel.’

Errant: Ah ha!

He suddenly jolted forward with a snap of his fingers as the name finally struck a chord within his mind. At least her tried to snap his fingers on account he couldn’t actually do it.

Errant: IHateMyDad2.0! SnowAngel is the name she uses for when she does music. Her album cover name, thingy? I don’t know music terminology.

Errant shrugged at the camera.

~~~Stream Chat~~~

BaconFighter: It confuses me too.

Halo1EE7: Why is that her name?

PenguWithAGun: It is a weird name

Trumpeter97th: I love her singing voice!

Kingsbane: I heard it’s a rerelease of a old song she did.

Squeekem’s: I heard it was a remix

DesireUnbound: Let’s hear it!

~~~~~~

Errant: Why is, IHateMyDad2.0 her VTuber name? Well, to put it simply, she hates, key word, hates her father. Her first account was simply, IHateMyDad. Her dad found out she was a streamer, and forced her to delete her account. A year later she came back, hence why she added, 2.0 to her VTuber alias. Now, I don’t know what happened between her, and her father, but it’s none of my business either, so I don’t ask. If she wanted people to know she would let them. But, IHateMyDad2.0 isn’t a braggart looking for sympathy points like some people… So I will leave it at so. Now then… what is this new song of yours?

Upon the screen appeared a video displaying, IHateMyDad2.0 latest single release.

Errant: Mirror Mirror? Hmm? Wonder what this is all about. Let’s find out shall we~?

Errants face was a blank void throughout the whole video. The most emotions he displayed throughout the video was the occasional humming in thought that escaped his lips. When the song reached the credits he paused the video before he sat back, and addressed his stream.

Errant: Well… what do you think chat?

~~~Stream Chat~~~

Junipz: Awesome!

KillmongerBunny: I had no idea she could sing

VelveteenKitty: That was a pretty song

SteveWasHere: Nice animation

IceWallowCome: What was she fighting?

GingerSnap: Did you not enjoy it?

TempestPotato: You seem rather blank

ChibiCapybara: He didn’t like it

BaconFighter: But, it was good

~~~~~~

Errant: I never said that chat… granted I never said anything, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.

~~~Stream Chat~~~

FallenStarDrop: So you do like it?

KreigsMarine0971: Then why didn’t you?

VoluptuousFox: Yeah, you just sat there looking thoughtful

Quinten: He looked hot in his brooding stance

CelestialDoggo: Damn hot

~~~~~~

Errant: Uh huwwww…

Errant had come to expect the more depraved comments members of his chat made, but their timing always seemed to catch him off guard.

Errant: I was simply enjoying the song, and taking everything in. As well as the animation, I didn’t expect a animated music video. I like the way her character seemed to… fly like a swan before attacking that armoured knight with surgical precision. I especially liked that quick pace piano rift that seemed seemed to rise, and fall with the song. I will most definitely listen to this on repeat if it’s on Spotify for an indefinite amount of time until I find something else to draw my attention to.

Errant looked at the chat feed, with a questioning gaze of his own as he skimmed the comments.

Errant: What; did you expect me to give you a play-by-play colour commentary throughout the whole video? Not likely, I want to see what’s going on, and me talking in the midst of it takes me out of the immersion, did you really want me to break it to hear me complain about how that guy said: Introducing, in such a nasally voice? That would taken everyone out of the song! No?

~~~Stream Chat~~~

UziPatoozi: He’s right

KillmongerBunny: Yeah I have to watch the video, then the reaction

Tryto: Still would have liked to listen to daddy talk.

Hava196: Still a good song

FallenStarDrop: What’s with her model

Dimitree: She doesn’t look like, IHateMyDad2.0

~~~~~~

Errant: Ahh that’s because, this her character model was what her avatar in the, MMORPG, World of the Huntsmen, The Second Great Hunt, the second game in the series. It was her first outfit design before her father destroyed her account. I think she used this design for the AMV because when she probably wrote the song around the time she had this model. She did mention that she was a singer during a hunt I believe.

~~~ Stream Chat~~~

PengoQueen: Oh, that makes sense

SteveWasHere: I like the older more mature design

BannersRUs: She was a bit of a brat during the early days

~~~~~~

Errant couldn’t help but nodded his head at the last comment knowing full well the validity of their words.

Errant: You’re right, back when I played, World of The Huntsmen I did a few hunting missions with, IHateMyDad2.0. Good greif it’s a headache saying that over, and over again, she needs a nick name, or something. Anyway, she complained about her fellow teammates, and myself a lot… How we attacked, how we defended in a battle, you name it, she complained about it. Seriously she complained a lot…

He looked off into the void with a far off gaze as if he was reliving haunted memories of those days

Errant: (Shudder) That’s an unpleasant memory. But, she has matured a lot since she came back from her imposed hiatus. So, yay.

~~~Stream Chat~~~

VoluptuousFox: She’s gotten prettier

SparrowStar: A like the braid

KingsBane: I like her sisters model more

SeaNymph: Ara Ara energy from that one there!

KinkyMelody: Majot step on me mommy energy too

~~~~~~

Errant: Cool it chat, least I start calling you out on your simping.

Errant: …

Errant: Actually, half of you already are simps, so it doesn’t make a difference now does it? Now, back to, IHateMyDad2.0, and her music. I will most definitely listen to the song on repeat for an indefinite amount of time, until I find something else to listen on repeat for an indefinite amount of time. I thought the video was okay, but I was more interested in her singing. I think her singing was beautiful, and the rhythm was well paced. My only gripe is that I think the song could have been longer, it felt a little short to me, did it feel a little short to you guys chat, it felt short.

Errant looked to his chat with an almost lamenting look across his face as he felt disappointment at the song’s short overall length. But, he shrugged his should before he returned to the game at hand.

Errant: Oh well. Let’s get back to it shall we? After all; ‘The city must survive.’

~~~

Unbeknownst to, The ErrantryKnight, as he reviewed, IHateMyDad2.0’s song, he had one special viewer watching his video. One who was most pleased he review her song.

The SnowAngel herself, IHateMyDad2.0

IHateMyDad2.0: H-He thinks my voice is beautiful…? HE thinks my voice is beautiful! Ahahahaha~! Take that, Cookie! He thinks I’m beautiful! Whoo!

And, with those simple words, IHateMyDad2.0’s mood skyrocketed, to a high that would never fall from.

That was until one of, Errant’s viewers, one of the infamous, ‘Fair Maidens’ entered her chat, and called her a skank that is.

Then all hell broke loose.

[alice-after-dark]

Late Night with the Radio Demon - Sing Me a Song

Alastor is bored and visits his favorite human.

Alastor's POV for once! Normally I want this au to lean a little more on the dark and horrory side of things, but this popped into my brain space so here, have some short fluff of silly boys being silly.

And, as usual, gotta tag @hiemaldesirae!

When Alastor appeared in the young man's apartment, he was greeted by two very pleasant things.

The smell of something cooking.

And a lovely melody drifting out of the kitchen.

Half a love, never appealed to me

If your heart, never could yield to me

Then I'd rather have nothing at all

All or nothing at all

The first voice crooning that delightful sound Alastor immediately recognized as the glorious Frank Sinatra. A true pity that Alastor had passed only a year before the man stepped onto the music scene. He would have been delighted to play the man's music on his show. The second voice singing along however...truly, his human never failed to entertain. He made his way towards the kitchen.

If it's love, there ain't no in between

Why begin then cry for something that might have been?

No, I'd rather, rather have nothing at all

"My, my! So full of surprises, Vincent!"

The human yelped, jumping and nearly dropping the knife he was holding as he scrambled to turn off the radio. He whirled around, leveling the demon with a glare as Alastor made himself comfortable at the table.

"Do you have to do that?"

"Oh my, no! But it's far more fun!" The Radio Demon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and tucking his hands under his chin. "I wasn't aware you could sing."

His human looked rather adorable, flushed in the face like a shy schoolgirl. He looked away from Alastor's gaze. "I don't usually...it's just a casual hobby...my dad used to sing a lot and I guess I just picked it up from him."

Alastor tried not to let his mood sour at the mention of a father figure. Well, at least not everyone had to put up with a piece of shit contributing the second half of their chromosomes. Thankfully, his human provided a quick distraction.

"So why are you here? Did you come for your favor?"

Oh dear, he'd nearly forgotten! "Of course! Can't let it go to waste, now can I?"

His human sighed. "Okay, so what do you want?"

Alastor tapped his chin. He didn't really have anything he truly needed at the moment, but it wouldn't be right to let the TV host get away without upholding his end of their bargain for the day. An idea formed.

"Well, you were so quick to turn off that radio upon my arrival that I didn't get to hear the end of that lovely song. Why don't you finish it for me?"

His human blushed again. Ah, he did so enjoy the sight of him flustered. "You...you want me to sing for you?"

"Indeed! In fact, why don't we take it from the top?" Without waiting for further commentary, Alastor tapped his microphone and music began to fill the small kitchen. His human turned back to his cooking, shoulders tense and awkward, but nevertheless began to sing. Alastor leaned on his hands and watched him. As the song continued, the TV host began to relax, losing himself in the music as he returned to cooking. Alastor wondered if he even remembered the demon was there.

Please don't bring your lips so close to my cheek

Don't you smile or I'll be lost beyond recall

The kiss in your eyes, the touch of your hand makes me weak

And my heart, it may grow dizzy and fall

And if I fell under the spell of your call

I would be, I'd be caught in the undertow

So you see, I have got to say no, no

All or nothing at all

He really should get his human to sing for him more often.

All or nothing at all

Nothing at all

There ain't nothing at all

Nothing at all

---

All or Nothing at All by Frank Sinatra

[scroogemcducksbastardchild]

"too sweet is so hannigram coded" wrong. listen to shrike right now

buckle up cause this is gonna be a long post!!

[image id: screenshotted text from reddit user @yupsquared. it reads:

I've seen a lot of pretty varied interpretations of Shrike, which always kinda surprised me as I thought it had a very direct reading. Might as well type out my interpretation now in the chance anyone sees this, or maybe I'll make it into a post.

I read Shrike as a song in which the singer describes how his attitude towards love has been corrupted by a scornful and captivating lover, and how in a sense he has been 'ruined', having no other recourse now for new love.

He illustrates this with the image of the shrike, a bird—typically symbols of carefree or joyous life, but in this case a bird that relies on a brutal counterpart, a thorn, to live. The shrike impales its prey on the thorn and then tears it apart. The shrike needs its thorn.

We see the singer in the beginning, as generally timid, perhaps naïve, but ultimately good:

I couldn't utter my love when it counted

and

And I'd no idea on what ground I was founded

and

Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted

He doesn't seem to have much ideological ground or experience. Carefree, like a songbird. Moving on, we are treated to imagery showing just how asymmetric the relationship is; the lover is much more powerful than the singer. He is "hung like the pelt of some prey [she] had won." By all accounts he is under her thumb, and he is altered by it:

I was housed by your warmth

Thus transformed

By you're grounded and giving

And darkening scorn

The fact that her "scorn", such a harsh word, is perceived as giving betrays how awful this relationship is. Happy, healthy relationships are not scornful, they are affirming. The singer doesn't care, something within him has changed, has darkened. He now flies to "the hedgerows where bodies are mounted"— the final form this relationship takes, a killing field, terrible and grotesque. Ultimately, he is reborn:

As the shrike to your sharp

And glorious thorn

—and in this final transformation, he sees the thorn, by all means a noxious thing, sharp, something to be avoided— as "glorious" even invigorating. He has become a shrike, reliant, within the context of the relationship maybe even addicted, to a toxic lover's cruelty and scornful love.

The fact that this is set to pretty, melodic, gentle folk-blues music makes it cut even deeper for me. The singer has internalized this to the point where it is reflected as harmony, instead of grotesquerie. We see it, but he is slavishly devoted to this thing whose warmth seems superficial and who wears him like a pelt. There is no going back, no return to carefree songbird days. The shrike needs to eat. The shrike needs its thorn.

To wrap, this captivation with dark lovers seems like a pretty consistent theme of Hozier's. As It Was has those lovely closing lines:

And the sights were as stark as my baby

And the cold was as sharp as my baby

And the nights were as dark as my baby

Half as beautiful too

Dark, cold, sharp, and beautiful. Not despite the darkness, the sharpness, but because of it. And if we look at NFWMB, the whole of it describes his lover as apocalypse, literally warming her fingers on the pyre of the word and giggling at the sound of the dead rising from Hell. He likes 'em bad.

**rattled this out on the train, so lil grammar edits. end id]

i'd offer my own interpretation of the lyrics, but yupsquared did a far better job than i could (here's a link to the reddit thread in case anyone wants to check it out!) so i'll just go off their analysis.

I couldn't utter my love when it counted Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now

The words hung above But never would form Like a cry at the final Breath that is drawn Remember me, love When I'm reborn As the shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

aside from the obvious shrike symbolism, to me, this is a contrast between mizumono and the wrath of the lamb. we know that will has difficulty accepting his feelings about killing- and by extension, about hannibal. he doesn't want to accept that he could love that part of himself, and in mizumono, we see him torn between hannibal and his life at the fbi. hannibal believes he's been betrayed by will and punishes him, destroying the possibility of a life with abigail. i think that if events had gone according to plan, will would have chosen hannibal ("i gave you a rare gift. but you didn't want it." "didn't i?"), but in hannibal's eyes will "couldn't utter [his] love when it counted" and suffered the consequences. a betrayal for a betrayal, a gutting for a gutting.

s3b has will go through a similar arc, choosing this time between hannibal and his life with molly. but he can make the choice this time, and he chooses hannibal ("this is all i ever wanted for you, will. for both of us." "it's beautiful"). even after everything they had gone through, everything hannibal had done, will chose hannibal, and his becoming is rebirth. he acknowledges their symbiotic relationship and accepts (to an extent; i agree with hugh that he's not fully there yet) that death can be beautiful. he becomes the shrike to hannibal's "sharp and glorious thorn."

And I'd no idea on what ground I was founded All of that goodness is goin' with you now Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted All of my goodness is goin' with you now

Dragging along Following your form Hung like the pelt Of some prey you had worn Remember me, love When I'm reborn As a shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

when will and hannibal meet, and as their relationship progresses, will is unstable and unsure of himself but still has faith in his morals. his job helps him save lives, and if it plays into some darker urges he keeps buried, well, so be it. but hannibal's manipulation of will and the murder of garrett jacob hobbs brought those urges to the surface.

i think hannibal's manipulation of will was equal parts curiosity and personal longing. he wanted to see what will would do, but he also saw in will the potential to understand and be understood in return, something hannibal never considered as a possibility. he saw himself in will and that allowed him to see a future.

I fled to the city with so much discounted Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now

this verse can have multiple interpretations. one, and perhaps the most obvious, is will looking for hannibal in s3a. the first two lines are from hannibal's perspective; he fled to the city (florence), with the promise of a life with will and abigail discounted, but found himself returning to will in the metaphorical sense. leaving him his broken heart. the second two lines are from will's perspective. he's sailing away from home but towards hannibal, towards the life of violence he could easily escape. will also returns to hannibal in the metaphorical sense with the firefly tableau. he has become the shrike, mounting his prey on hannibal's thorns.

this verse can also be taken within the context of s3b, with will returning yet again to hannibal and "the hedgerows where bodies are mounted." this time, however, all four lines are from will's perspective. his "city" is a normal life with molly, and what he discounted was not the possibility of a life with hannibal (as the latter did in mizumono) but rather the possibility that he could want such a life.

I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By your grounded and giving And darkening scorn Remember me, love When I'm reborn As a shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

this is the final scene in the wrath of the lamb, the last step in will's becoming. he was transformed by hannibal; his manipulation, his understanding, the idea that someone could accept even the darkest parts of him wholly and completely ("you're not alone, will. i'm standing right beside you"). his love.

[seneon]

I'm so sorry i didn't know about this lmao >¬<

Can You please do a Abyss x reader oneshot ? (i don't know for an idea I'm really bad for idéa sorry T-T) but whatever You write i know it would be amazing <3

I really don't know what to say sorry ahah :')

featuring. abyss razor x fem! reader — oneshot.

genre. romance | fuedal japan! alternate universe.

synopsis. in which, abyss was sent on a mission to capture an infamous criminal but in reality, he saves her.

notes. 1.8k words | taken and edited from my oneshot book ANGELS in wattpad. this is originally a kamui (gintama) and rin oneshot. anyways, abyss is actually so pretty 😭😭

abyss razor roamed through the underground red light districts of yoshiwara — old tokyo, with the samurai lord he served under, abel walker.

they were oblivious to it, but women had their eyes on the fellow samurai.

the ladies whispered among themselves, wondering who these attractive young men were.

the samurai men had striking features, good height, their eyes, and overall, their serious demeanour. they wore fine clothing, showing everyone they work for the shogun, prominent and the best in their field.

a mission was what the two were on, in seacrh of a few criminals to murder. each samurai was given a different task, abel receiving the more brutal and heinous criminals and abyss receiving orders to search for intel.

but abyss never intended to search for intel upon stepping foot in this... all glorious district of endless entertainment.

it bore him to know that many samurai came here to have fun with women and drink their night away, immediately spotting a few rivals of his, drinking.

abyss' sole purpose of coming here was to find for a certain woman.

ah . . . a woman that held a great place in his organ called heart. never would abyss himself thought he would be looking forward in a search for her, a recently known villain.

"abyss, go west. i will search east. we return at six in the middle of four directions," abel said before vanishing in a flash, heading to the east for his mission.

the said male scanned the area and started to move his feet to collect as many information on you as he can.

there were oiran making their way to customers of prominence, dancers, sake, music and light all around the place. it was a place abyss wasn't very fond of, for he preferred silence and a time to solitary.

what he needed now was a change of clothes. citizens had their eyes on the samurai, growing weary of his idea of being in a red light district. so he went to the nearest shop to buy a cheap kimono to disguise himself.

abyss quickly picked up the clues that was given to him as a starter from the palace. now he has a lead, that you were a master in disguise, and there was a well-known brothel that recently recruited a skillful courtesan.

that brothel was the first place he went to as a normal customer looking for a service.

"greetings. may i ask for kitsuhime oiran?" he asked the receptionist, as the male shook his head.

"kitsuhime-sama is currently serving a customer, but our other courtesans are available for you, sir."

"it's alright. when will she be free? i'll pay you in gold for an audience with her."

the receptionist hesitated to answer the offer abyss gave him. it had not been the first time men had brought up gold for their best courtesan in their service.

"uh, she should be free in two days. if you could wait sir, we'll—"

"how does a hundred gold sound to you?"

"uhm... i'm not sure if that's how it works.."

"a hundred and fifty."

"sir.."

"excuse me, what is going on?" another male voice asked, standing beside abyss in hopes on lending a hand to the troubled.

the receptionist perked up in hope. "ah! haru-sama! this fellow customer wanted an audience with kitsuhime-sama, and he keeps raising the wage. i don't know what to do..."

the male whom the blue-haired male assumed was a high ranking staff in this brothel placed his fingers on his chin, thinking hardly. his dark red scanned from top to bottom, before letting out a sigh. "guess there's no choice. did you bring the goods?"

rin nodded, stashing a bag of gold onto the table. "when can i meet the courtesan?"

"right now. her schedule is empty, since her customer went out for a small errand," haru said as he quickly counted the gold. "one hundred fourty two, three... one fifty... deal. you have fifteen minutes at most. this way, sir."

the male with red eyes led abyss through the huge brothel and abyss wished he at least waxed his ears temporarily from the erotic sounds he kept hearing throughout the whole place.

he felt relieved when they ascended, the noises disappearing behind them. abyss believed they were heading to the highest and most off-limits floors, a high-class area.

haru stopped at the room right at the end of the floor, opening the door while stepping aside for the customer to head in. he walked in after abyss, shutting the door behind him.

abyss grew alert at the sound of the door shutting, his eyes looking around the room.

"kitsuhime-sama! you have an unexpected audience," haru said, abyss taking a glance behind to have his eyes widened in sheer shock.

he froze at the sight of haru slowly peeling himself off. only to reveal a completely different person underneath it.

abyss couldn't see who it was, for the male was peeling off the skin on his face. e/c eyes then flashed under the moonlight, fingers moving to remove the wig.

a chill ran down abyss' spine, like tiny spiders crawling down his skin. the moment it was revealed who was under it, he couldn't help but remembered old memories that seemed to get more prominent now that he sees a familiar face.

how long has it been since he saw that face? the same old smirk that he recognised since childhood, and the eyes that held so many dreams, only to be crushed right in front of him.

"care for a round of sake?" you asked, your smirk turning into a slight smile.

the razor was too stunned to speak at the sight of seeing you for the first time in all these years. you were a criminal now, working as a courtesan, and disguised as a man...?

everything was spinning around him. he didn't know what to do, so he simply nodded and sat down on the cushion laid out for customers and a courtesan to have a chat.

it was quiet, sentimental, as you carefully and gracefully poured japanese alcohol into both cups, handing one to abyss. he picked it up and drank it, still registering what had happened.

"why have you come here?" you asked, gaze on the samurai, "i thought you didn't like red light districts."

it was quiet again. you sipped on your alcohol, never taking your eyes off of the man you haven't seen for a long time.

he was as beautiful as you remember, a child connected to the moon in a way that it favours him. even if his eyes were eyepatched from a battle wound. abyss is even more beautiful now, his features chiseled and you could tell he had been doing some hard work.

"i'm on a mission. you are one of the shogun's targets."

"and you've became a shogun dog," you never let him finished. shutting your eyes while feeling the most ease, you sighed.

abyss felt his eyes twitched at your answer, but he kept his cool and set down the sake cup. "i became one to receive top notch training. to find you, and follow you until the ends of the earth."

it was your turn to be caught off-guard. it seems like he hadn't forget about the promise they made during childhood after all.

"as courtesan, may i have my valued customer's name?" you asked, wanting to hear him said it himself.

"abyss razor."

it ringed around your ears, inside your mind and down to the core of your memories. you knew who he was, yet hearing him said it himself was . . . different.

abyss!

a little girl, no more than the age of nine would call out for the boy who was staring at the black heavens that was filled with twinkling little life.

she would twirl around and capture abyss into a deadly hug, releasing to then plop herself beside him. wherein little abyss would be flushed red and continue his stargazing.

"hey abyss, when you grow up, what do you want to do or be?" she asked, and the little razor would soon fell deep into his thoughts.

"hmm... i want to be like abel-san! i want to be a cool man who's going to be a samurai and protect everyone i love. like mom and dad, abel-san... and you!" he gave her a goofy smile. "you?"

it was little y/n's turn to think for a while. and when she found the perfect answer, she returned the same childish grin he gave her. "i'll go with you anywhere!!"

lies.

she was taken away months after those words came out. oh how abyss fell into ultimate despair seeing her getting taken away by the shogun's officials. her eyes only held the look of fear, tears running down her cheeks.

"i'll be a strong samurai and protect you! then i'll follow you wherever you go! i promise, y/n!" abyss could only shout his little throat out, his older friend, abel, holding him back from any more harm the officials might inflict.

abyss couldn't defeat the people that took away his only friend. he was simply too weak, a mere child with the brightest dreams.

who knew the person he looked up to the most would also leave him to volunteer in a recruitment for new generation samurai?

everything was ruined, so much that abyss' mind became twisted and he too, would soon join the next recruitment to search for you. only to find that you are now a criminal.

your eyes stared at the table contents of a tea set. throat becoming dryer and dryer as seconds passed by. "i'm a murderer now. what are you going to do?" it turned intense and heavy around the atmosphere.

".. i don't care. you simply killed the men that tried assaulting you back in the palace right? that is nothing," he said coolly, pouring for the both of you another drink. "i plan to retire to make the shogun mad anyways."

"so, will you come with me?"

you chuckled at his words. things had certainly changed, abyss too, for he had grown way more mature than you are compared to your childhood days.

it all felt so nostalgic, to be speaking to the razor the same as you both did back then.

"i will."

a smile unconsciously crawled up to abyss' lips, portraying a beauty you hadn't seen in forever. such a work of art, indeed.

if the woman sitting in front of him knew what he was thinking about, you were definitely, most certainly the y/n that abyss was looking for.

there was no mistaking it. you were the light to his darkness. and even if you committed a crime or two, it was all for abyss and a promise.

you elegantly stood up, a habit picked up from the brothel owner that brought you in to keep your disguise.

"but first. i just want you to know this place is a disguise itself. everyone here has committed a crime before, even customers. it's my home."

"sounds like a you thing to do. now then, shall we abandon everything and head for a run? i don't want to be seen as a samurai any longer ," he stood up, holding a hand out.

you immediately accepted it with a smile, "we shall, abyss."

"perfect."

istg if anyone talks or mentions about raiden shogun or whoever tf she is, i will literally send you paragraphs to educate you that shogun doesn't only exist in genshin impact and it's actually history in japan 💀

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Prologue.

Styling Mr. Styles Series Masterlist.

word count - 5.7k

authors note - hiya! welcome to my first series, i hope you all enjoy!! this may not be the best thing you have ever read as i’m still fairly new to this whole thing but please go easy on me, i’m hoping my writing will improve as more chapters come out <3

SUMMARY -

in which, harry is in desperate need of a hair stylist, so when his good friend recommends you, with a lot of persuasion you decide to take the job. having no idea what the future will have in store for you and for him.

In the vibrant world of music, the boys of One Direction found themselves backstage in Montreal for the Canadian leg of their tour, amidst a flurry of activity. The air crackled with anticipation as the stage crew scurried around, meticulously preparing every detail for the upcoming concert.

It was going to be a big one.

Amidst the organised chaos, the distant sound of the Icona Pop, the support act reverberated through the corridors. Melodies filled the air, intertwining with the excited chatter of fans and the occasional burst of laughter from the boys themselves.

Backstage was a sight to behold—a tapestry of colours, textures, and energy. The walls were adorned with posters, reflecting the band's journey and connecting the present moment with their glorious past. Soft lighting bathed the area, casting a warm glow on the bustling crew members, who moved with purpose and precision.

Equipment was meticulously arranged, wires coiling like serpents as they connected instruments, amplifiers, and soundboards. The hum of machinery and the occasional clink of metal blended harmoniously with the distant soundcheck, creating a symphony of backstage ambiance.

As the boys prepared themselves for the stage, their tour crew darted around, ensuring their attire was impeccable. Mirrors became portals to self-reflection, as each member meticulously adjusted their appearance, adding the final touches that would captivate the waiting audience.

The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the sweet fragrance of flowers and cologne, creating a unique backstage scent that lingered in the air. And amid this vibrant backdrop, the energy surged, fueled by the shared excitement and the knowledge that magic was about to unfold before a sea of devoted fans.

In this atmosphere, the boys of One Direction found solace and camaraderie. They shared laughter, words of encouragement, and the unspoken bond that had been forged through years of shared dreams and experiences. Amidst the buzzing energy and the carefully orchestrated chaos, they stood united, ready to embark on another unforgettable journey on the stage they called home.

And so, against the backdrop of a backstage aesthetic, the boys prepared themselves for their performance, drawing strength from the charged atmosphere and the unwavering support of their dedicated team.

Harry Styles, with his shoulder-length, tousled hair, caught Liam's eye as he playfully ruffled his locks.

Liam's brow furrowed with concern as he approached his bandmate. "Hey, Haz, something troubling you, mate?"

Harry's gaze met Liam's, a hint of frustration in his expression. "You know, Li, it's getting warm right here, isn't it? And m’hair ain't helping none. It's like a bloomin' sauna on me 'ead!"

Liam chuckled softly, understanding the struggle. "Ah, I get you, mate. Can't have them curls wilting under the heat, can we?"

Harry nodded earnestly. "Exactly! I've been thinkin'... maybe it's time for a trim. A little snip-snip to keep it manageable, yeah?"

Not a huge trim, just something to sort out the humidity his head was currently experiencing.

As they chatted and laughed, Niall glanced over at Harry's shoulder-length curls and playfully teased, "Ey, Hazza, ya know what? I reckon you should get yourself a personal hair stylist just for you!"

That didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Harry raised an eyebrow, amused by the suggestion. "Oh, really? And why's that, Nialler?"

Niall grinned, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously. "Well, mate, your hair's a lot longer than mine or Li and Lou’s, but it's still a fair bit to manage, innit? Plus, with all the styling and primping we do before every show, you deserve someone who can give your lovely curls the special attention they need!"

That was true, the band did have a hair stylist and her name was Lou Teasedale. She was good, don’t get Harry wrong but he needed someone who could do a bit more than just some hairspray and a brush.

Louis chimed in, nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Besides, you're our resident style icon, Haz. Having a personal hair stylist would only enhance your legendary image!"

That was true.

Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "You've got a point there, lads. I do love m’hair, and sometimes it can be a bit of a handful. Having someone who knows how to handle it just right would be fantastic."

Liam, ever the practical one, added, "Well, it's settled then. We'll find you a talented stylist who can cater to your hair's needs and make sure it's always looking its best."

As they exchanged ideas and banter, their dear friend and renowned hair stylist, Lou Teasdale, entered the room, cradling her four-year-old daughter, Lux, in her arms.

A playful grin adorned her face as she overheard the boys chatting about Harry's hair.

"Ey, what's all this fuss about Harry's hair then?" Lou chimed in, her voice filled with a teasing tone.

Startled by her sudden appearance, the boys turned their attention to Lou, a mix of surprise and delight on their faces. "Lou! Didn't expect to see you here with Lux," Liam exclaimed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Lou smirked, adjusting Lux in her arms. "Just thought we'd drop by and see what's happenin'. And it seems I've arrived just in time for some serious hair talk."

Harry chuckled, running his fingers through his tousled locks. "Seems like my hair's become the center of attention today. What do you think, Lou?"

Lou's eyes twinkled mischievously as she leaned against a nearby chair. "Oh, you know how it goes, Hazza. Can't have One Direction without some major hair game. But speaking of which, I've got someone in mind who can take your locks to the next level."

The boys leaned in, their curiosity piqued. "Alright, Lou, spill the beans. Who's the lucky stylist?" Louis asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Lou flashed a sly smile. "Well, her name's (Y/N), and she's a real gem. Works at this quaint little salon in London. I've known her for years, and let me tell ya, she's got the skills to pay the bills."

Niall raised an eyebrow. "Skills, huh? What makes her so special, Lou?"

Lou's voice was filled with admiration as she spoke. "Oh, lads, where do I begin? (Y/N) knows her stuff, no doubt about it. But what sets her apart is that she's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. Genuine, down-to-earth, and always up for a laugh."

Harry's interest was piqued, a smile tugging at his lips. "So, she's not just a talented stylist, but she's an all-around great person?"

Lou nodded, a playful glint in her eyes. "Absolutely, Hazza. She's looking to spread her wings a bit, gain more experience, and I thought she'd fit right in with our crazy crew. Plus, I reckon she'll give your hair that extra touch of magic."

The boys exchanged excited glances, the thought of having someone skilled and easygoing on board filling them with anticipation. Harry beamed. "Well, if she's as amazing as you say, Lou, I'm all for it. Let's reach out to (Y/N) and see if she's up for the challenge."

And so, with Lou's recommendation and their shared enthusiasm, the boys embarked on a mission to connect with (Y/N), the talented stylist from the bustling streets of London. The prospect of bringing her aboard their wild journey filled them with excitement and the promise of even more unforgettable hair moments.

After an exhilarating performance that left the crowd in awe, Harry and the boys of One Direction stepped off the stage, their energy still electrifying the air around them. Sweat glistened on their foreheads, testament to the passion and intensity they had poured into their show.

As they made their way towards the backstage area, they were met with a wave of congratulations from the dedicated tour crew. Hands clapped on their backs, voices filled with excitement and pride. The energy was infectious, an outpouring of admiration for a job well done.

Harry's face lit up with a radiant smile, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. He exchanged high-fives and heartfelt hugs, expressing his appreciation to the crew members who had worked tirelessly to ensure a flawless show. Their camaraderie was a testament to the tight-knit family they had become on the road.

But amidst the jubilant celebration, Harry turned to his bandmates, a sense of urgency in his eyes. "Hey, lads, I need to have a quick chat with Katie," he explained, his voice filled with determination. "I'll catch up with you in the car in just a bit, alright?"

His bandmates nodded, understanding the need for his timely conversation. They exchanged knowing glances, a mixture of curiosity and excitement in their expressions. With a pat on Harry's back, they bid him farewell, allowing him to venture off to seek Katie's guidance.

Harry manoeuvred through the bustling backstage area, a trail of vibrant memories and shared triumphs lingering in his wake. The hum of excitement filled the air as the crew members continued to revel in the success of the show, their cheers echoing in his ears.

With each step, Harry's anticipation grew. He knew Katie, the tour manager, held the key to transforming his desires into reality. She was the one who could orchestrate the logistical magic necessary to fulfil his request. And he had an inkling that his conversation with her would set a plan into motion, a plan that would bring about a new chapter for his hair and his journey as an artist.

As he neared Katie's office, his heart beat a little faster. The moment was ripe with possibility and the promise of change. And with a deep breath, Harry stepped through the door, ready to embark on the next phase of his hair transformation journey, knowing that his conversation with Katie would pave the way for the exciting path that lay ahead.

With a determined knock on Katie's office door, Harry waited for her response, anticipation bubbling within him. The door swung open, revealing Katie, the tour manager, engrossed in her work.

Katie glanced up, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Harry! Come on in. What can I do for you, love?"

Harry stepped into the office, his voice filled with eagerness. "Hey, K, I've been thinking... about what the boys said earlier. And I reckon it's time I have my own personal hair stylist."

Katie had overheard parts of the conversation and just before the boys were about to go on stage, she pulled Harry aside quickly and told him that it may be a good idea, that if he wanted to talk he should come to her if there’s any questions about how to go about it.

Katie raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Oh, really? You want to take your hair game up a notch, huh?"

Harry nodded, his curls bouncing with enthusiasm. "Absolutely, K. The boys were onto something. I want someone who can help me take care of my hair, bring out its best, and try out new styles. Just like we do with the music."

Katie leaned back in her chair, considering his request. "Well, if that's what you want, Haz, then you'll have to go and see her. If you want a personal hair stylist, it's time to make it happen.”

His eyes widened with excitement, a grin spreading across his face. "Y’mean, you'll support me on this?"

Katie smirked mischievously, reaching for the phone on her desk. "Of course, Haz. If you're serious about having your own stylist, then I'm here to make it happen. Just give me a moment."

With a sense of determination, Katie dialed a number, a glint of anticipation in her eyes. "Paul, it's Katie. I need you to come to my office, please. It's urgent."

Within moments, Paul, the head of security, arrived at the office, a puzzled expression on his face. "Katie, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

Katie motioned for Paul to take a seat, her excitement barely contained. "Everything's perfectly fine, Paul. I just have a little request that involves you and the security team."

Paul raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "A request? Alright, spill the beans, Katie. What's this about?”

Katie leaned forward, her voice brimming with excitement. "When we head to Europe, I want you to clear Harry's schedule for a day. We've got a special appointment lined up for him."

A smile crept across Paul's face as he caught onto Katie's plan. "Ah, I see. A special appointment, eh? Well, let's hear it then. Who's he going to see?"

Katie's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "He's going to visit a hair salon in Hampshire, and meet (Y/N), the stylist the Lou recommended. We want to give Harry the chance to have his own personal hair transformation."

Paul grinned, his excitement matching Katie's. "Ah, I get it now! Well, if that's what the lad wants, then consider it done. I'll coordinate with the security team and ensure everything goes smoothly."

Harry's face beamed with joy, gratitude welling up in his heart for his supportive team. "Thank you! Thank you!”

Katie chuckled, her eyes gleaming. "You're welcome, Haz. We're here to support your creative vision, and if this is what you want, then we're all in. Get ready for a hair transformation like no other!"

With plans set in motion and an agreement among them, Harry left Katie's office, a spring in his step. The thought of meeting (Y/N) and experiencing a personal hair transformation filled him with an overwhelming sense of excitement. As he walked back towards the waiting car, his mind whirled with possibilities and visions of the new looks that awaited him.

The vibrant energy of the backstage area enveloped Harry as he made his way through the corridors. The crew members he encountered congratulated him once again on the outstanding show, their words fueling his anticipation for the upcoming salon visit.

Reaching the coach, Harry found his bandmates waiting, their eyes gleaming with curiosity. They couldn't contain their excitement any longer and bombarded him with questions.

"Hazza, what did Katie say? Are they really letting you see (Y/N)?" Louis exclaimed, a grin stretching across his face.

Harry beamed, his heart filled with gratitude for the support of his friends. "Yes, lads! Katie and Paul are on board. They've cleared my schedule when we head to Europe so I can go and see (Y/N)."

Niall's eyes widened with excitement. "That's brilliant, mate! I can already imagine the incredible hairstyles she'll create for you."

Liam chimed in, his voice filled with anticipation. "I can't wait to see the transformation, Harry. Your hair is going to be even more legendary."

The moment one stepped into the quaint Hampshire salon, a symphony of sounds and a feast for the senses enveloped them. The air carried the gentle hum of hair dryers, creating a rhythmic harmony with the soft snip-snip of scissors diligently at work. Amidst the buzz, the warm and inviting ambiance was further elevated by the soft strains of classical music that wafted from hidden speakers, casting a soothing spell upon the space.

As customers entered, their eyes were drawn to the bustling scene before them. Behind the front desk, Kyle, the owner of the salon, meticulously attended to the administrative tasks on his computer, his focused demeanor a testament to his dedication. His passion for the craft emanated from him, infusing the salon with an air of creativity and professionalism.

The salon itself was a sight to behold, designed with meticulous attention to detail. The walls adorned with elegant artwork and vintage mirrors, reflecting the soft glow of warm lighting. The combination of earthy tones and pops of vibrant colors created an atmosphere that was both trendy and inviting, a sanctuary for self-care and beauty.

Amongst the stations, where skilled stylists worked their magic, was Clarissa. Her disinterest was palpable as she sat behind a station, her attention consumed by her phone, seemingly unbothered by the customers around her. It was a stark contrast to the warm and engaging environment crafted by Kyle and the rest of the team.

Yet, despite the lack of interaction from Clarissa, the salon thrived with an undeniable aesthetic. The atmosphere buzzed with creative energy and a sense of community, where customers and stylists alike found solace and inspiration. The scent of fresh hair products mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, creating a sensory experience that was as comforting as it was invigorating.

Within this picturesque setting, (Y/N) stood out like a gentle star. Her shy demeanour and anxious nature were almost imperceptible amidst the vibrancy of the salon. With a constant smile on her face, she worked her magic, transforming hair with precision and care. Her presence added an extra layer of warmth and a touch of magic to the already aesthetic environment, captivating those around her.

As clients settled into the plush salon chairs, entrusting their locks to the skilled hands of the stylists, they were enveloped by a sense of tranquillity. The combination of the symphony of salon sounds, the visual splendour, and the dedicated professionals working with passion created a sanctuary where beauty and self-expression flourished.

In this realm of artistry, where style and innovation harmoniously danced, the salon became a haven, an aesthetic oasis where one could escape the world for a brief moment and emerge transformed, both outwardly and within.

Amongst the energetic ambiance, (Y/N) meticulously worked her magic, her hands gracefully maneuvering through a client's hair. As she cut and styled, she engaged in a conversation, her shy and anxious nature subtly evident.

With a soft smile, (Y/N) focused her attention on the woman whose hair she was transforming. "H-hello, Mrs. Thompson. How are you feeling today? Are you ready for a new look?"

Mrs. Thompson smiled warmly, her eyes filled with trust. "Oh, hello, (Y/N). I'm excited for a change! I'm putting my trust in you, dear. You always do wonders with hair."

(Y/N)'s fingers trembled slightly as she combed through Mrs. Thompson's hair, her voice hesitant. "T-thank you, Mrs. Thompson. I appreciate your trust. Let's discuss what you have in mind."

As Mrs. Thompson described her desired hairstyle, (Y/N)'s anxiety became more palpable, causing her words to stumble. "S-so, you want a bob with layers, right? I-I can definitely do that for you."

Mrs. Thompson nodded, her confidence in (Y/N)'s abilities unwavering. "Yes, that's right, (Y/N). I believe in you. You have such a talent for creating beautiful hairstyles."

(Y/N)'s smile grew, her voice softening further. "Th-thank you, Mrs. Thompson. I'll do my best to give you the look you want.."

As (Y/N) began cutting, her hands displayed steady precision despite the underlying nervousness. She engaged in conversation, her voice often faltering with hesitation. But her dedication to her craft shone through as she meticulously crafted each layer and brought Mrs. Thompson's vision to life.

Mrs. Thompson watched the transformation unfold in the mirror, her eyes filled with admiration. "You're doing an amazing job, (Y/N). I can see your passion and dedication in every movement."

(Y/N)'s cheeks flushed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Th-thank you, Mrs. Thompson. Your words mean a lot to me. I'm glad you're happy with it."

With a soft smile, (Y/N) once again focused her attention on the woman whose hair she was transforming "S-so, how are you liking the new style, Mrs. Thompson?"

Mrs. Thompson, a kind-hearted and chatty woman, gazed at herself in the mirror, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Oh, (Y/N), I absolutely love it! You're a true artist. You always know just how to make me feel beautiful."

A gentle blush graced (Y/N)'s cheeks as she thanked Mrs. Thompson, her voice slightly faltering. She was known for her attention to detail and the care she put into each client's hair. Yet, despite her talent, (Y/N) carried a timid demeanour, often hesitating and stuttering when speaking to people.

Mrs. Thompson, noticing (Y/N)'s reserved nature, continued, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "You know, (Y/N), you have such a gift. You bring more than just skill to this salon—you bring kindness and genuine care for your clients. It's one of the reasons I keep coming back."

(Y/N) lowered her gaze, a mix of gratitude and anxiety washing over her. "Th-thank you, Mrs. Thompson. Y-your words mean a lot to me."

As the blow dryer whirred and the scissors glide through Mrs. Thompson's hair, (Y/N)'s shyness seemed to melt away, replaced by a deep sense of dedication. She may be hesitant with her words, but her work spoke volumes.

Despite her anxious disposition, (Y/N) wore a constant smile, channelling her passion and love for her craft into every hairstyle she created. Each snip, each brush stroke was executed with precision, leaving a trail of satisfied clients in her wake.

As Mrs. Thompson admired her new look in the mirror, (Y/N) carefully removed the hairdressing cape, her hands gentle and her movements calculated. "There you g-go, Mrs. Thompson. Y-you're all set. It was a pleasure as always."

Mrs. Thompson beamed, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. "Thank you, (Y/N). You truly have a gift. don't ever doubt yourself."

(Y/N) nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, her stutter more pronounced in her nervousness. "I'll try, Mrs. Thompson. Th-thank you for your kind words."

As (Y/N) put the finishing touches on Mrs. Thompson's hair, she gently guided her towards the front desk where Kyle, the owner of the salon, stood. With each step, (Y/N)'s heart fluttered with anticipation, her anxiety causing her words to stumble even more.

Approaching Kyle, (Y/N) managed a shy smile. "H-hey, Kyle. Mrs. Thompson's all done. I'll let you handle the payment."

Kyle beamed at (Y/N), his eyes reflecting a deep friendship and understanding. "Thanks, (Y/N). You did an incredible job as always. I'm lucky to have you here."

(Y/N) blushed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Th-thank you, Kyle. I-I appreciate your support."

Mrs. Thompson handed her payment to Kyle, who graciously accepted it with a warm smile. As she reached into her purse, she discreetly slipped an additional bill into (Y/N)'s hands, her eyes twinkling with gratitude for the exceptional service she had received.

(Y/N)'s cheeks flushed even deeper, her voice quivering with surprise. "Mrs. Thompson, y-you didn't have to do that. Thank you so much."

Mrs. Thompson chuckled softly, her voice filled with affection. "Consider it a little something extra for you, (Y/N). You deserve it. Keep up the amazing work. Kyle, tell her that she’s deserves it, if anyone knows she does it’s you.”

“That’s right,” Kyle nodded, pushing some hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear, making her smile. “She’s my bestie after all and there’s no one else that knows her better, you deserve the tip (Y/N) trust me.”

Touched by the kind gesture, (Y/N) managed a heartfelt "Thank you" before turning her attention back to Kyle, her anxiety causing her words to stumble once again. "K-Kyle, I...I appreciate everything you do for me. You're...you're the best."

Kyle's eyes softened, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Right back at you, bestie. You're not just a talented stylist; you're an invaluable friend. I'm grateful to have you by my side."

As (Y/N) and Kyle exchanged a knowing look, their unspoken bond spoke volumes. Through her stuttering and anxious nature, (Y/N) found solace in the unwavering support of her best friend, Kyle. He had seen beyond her insecurities and embraced her for who she was—a talented stylist with a heart of gold.

As Mrs. Thompson left the salon, (Y/N) watched her go, a mixture of pride and apprehension swirling within her. Though she may be shy and anxious, her dedication to her craft and the ability to make her clients feel beautiful pushed her to overcome her insecurities.

Later that day, As the soft melodies of classical music continued to fill the cozy Hampshire salon, the entrance chimed with the arrival of three unexpected guests. Harry, Katie, and Paul stepped inside, the energy in the room shifting as heads turned in recognition of the famous face.

The warm glow of the salon's lighting seemed to caress the contours of Harry's face, casting a golden halo around his wavy locks. His charismatic smile illuminated the room, his presence instantly captivating. The soft whispers and curious glances exchanged among the customers and staff hinted at the excitement that pulsed through the air.

Kyle, the owner of the salon, fought to maintain a composed demeanor, despite his excitement and slight nervousness. He approached the trio with a warm smile, his voice attempting to exude normalcy. "Hey there! Welcome to our salon. How can I help you today?"

Harry's emerald eyes sparkled with intrigue as he glanced around, taking in the salon's aesthetic. His charm and genuine nature put everyone at ease, creating an atmosphere of familiarity. "Thanks! I was wondering if anyone named (Y/N) works here?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Kyle's face before he quickly composed himself, not wanting to reveal the inner excitement that threatened to burst forth. "Ah, (Y/N). Yes, (Y/N) does work here. Why do you ask?"

Harry's gaze locked with Kyle's, a sense of eager anticipation in his voice. "Well, my friends have been raving about (Y/N)'s talent, and I was hoping to meet them, maybe get a haircut."

Kyle's excitement mixed with a touch of disappointment as he spoke, his voice laced with anticipation. "I'm sorry, Mr. Styles, but (Y/N) is currently on her break. She'll be back in about fifteen minutes. Would you mind waiting for her?"

Harry's warm smile remained unwavering as he nodded eagerly. "Of course, I'll happily wait for her. Take your time."

As the minutes slipped by, the anticipation in the salon grew thicker. The melodies of classical music seemed to harmonize with the gentle whispers of excitement among the stylists and clients alike. The door chimed softly, announcing (Y/N)'s return from their break.

(Y/N) stepped into the salon, their demeanor exuding innocence and a hint of shyness. Clad in a delightful summer dress and a cozy cardigan, their eyes hidden behind a pair of earphones, they seemed oblivious to the presence that awaited them. Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Harry Styles himself sat patiently in the corner, his gaze fixed on the doorway.

Kyle, unable to contain his excitement any longer, subtly nodded his head in Harry's direction, silently urging (Y/N) to turn and discover the surprise that awaited them. As if sensing the unspoken cue, (Y/N) turned their head, wide-eyed and innocent, their gaze meeting Harry's.

And in that moment, time seemed to stand still. The collision of their unsuspecting eyes sparked an undeniable connection, an intangible thread weaving between their souls. The air crackled with electricity, anticipation hanging in every breath.

And there, in the cosy Hampshire salon, the stage was set for an extraordinary encounter that would forever alter the course of (Y/N)'s life. The moment held infinite possibilities, as two worlds collided in a collision of fate and destiny.

“Hi…excuse me…(Y/N), right? m’names Harry,”the singer smiled at her politely. “— I was wondering if I could possibly speak to you somewhere in private? It’s okay if not.”

As the weight of the moment hung in the air, Harry's eyes locked with (Y/N)'s, a silent request passing between them. Sensing Harry's desire for privacy, (Y/N) glanced at Kyle, their trusted confidant and supporter.

(Y/N)'s gaze pleaded for guidance, and Kyle, understanding the unspoken need, smiled warmly. "Of course, Sir. (Y/N) would appreciate speaking with you in private. I'll make sure they're comfortable."

A mixture of apprehension and curiosity danced in (Y/N)'s eyes as they nodded in agreement. The safety net of Kyle's presence and the knowledge that they had someone they trusted nearby provided a sense of reassurance.

With a gentle smile, Harry gestured towards a quieter corner of the salon, away from the prying eyes and curious whispers. The anticipation swelled as they found a secluded space, cocooned from the busyness of the salon.

In the secluded corner of the salon, Harry's gaze was filled with anticipation as he spoke, his words carrying a weight of recommendation. "(Y/N), my friend Lou, who happens to be a dear friend of yours too, recommended you. She told me about the incredible talent you possess."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and nostalgia washing over them. Their voice trembled with the remnants of their anxious personality, stuttering as they spoke. "L-Lou? Oh, yes, I know her. She used to teach me when I was learning to be a hairdresser. We've kept in touch since."

Harry's expression softened with understanding, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Lou speaks highly of you, (Y/N). She mentioned how talented and dedicated you are. That's why I'm here. I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to be my personal hair stylist."

The weight of the decision bore heavily upon (Y/N), their anxiety surfacing as their voice faltered. "I-I'm honored, Harry, but I'm... I'm really hesitant. It's such a big responsibility, and... and I'm not sure if I'm ready."

Harry's eyes reflected empathy as he placed a comforting hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder. "I understand, (Y/N). It's a big ask, and I don't want to pressure you into anything. You don't have to say yes right away. Take your time, think it over. Your happiness and comfort matter above all else."

Feeling torn, (Y/N) turned to their trusted friend Kyle, who was sat behind the desk and pretending not to listen in on there conversation, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Kyle, what do you think? Should I take this opportunity?"

Kyle's smile was filled with unwavering support as he met (Y/N)'s gaze. "Oh, (Y/N), I've seen your talent and dedication firsthand. You've grown so much since those early days with Lou. This could be an incredible opportunity for you. I believe you're ready for it."

The weight of Kyle's words, coupled with the encouragement that had always surrounded (Y/N), began to lift the fog of anxiety. Though their voice still stuttered, a newfound determination crept into their words. "Th-thank you, Kyle. Your support means the world to me. Maybe... maybe I should take this chance."

In that moment, (Y/N) felt a surge of resilience and bravery, ready to step into the unknown and embrace the possibilities that lay ahead. With the reassurance of Kyle's wisdom and the memory of Lou's guidance, they were prepared to embark on this journey, even if their anxious nature continued to accompany them.

As the sun rose on a new day, the cozy Hampshire salon brimmed with anticipation. The air hummed with excitement as Katie, Harry, and Paul returned, ready to discuss the next steps with (Y/N).

Katie, with her warm smile and approachable demeanour, took charge of the conversation. Her voice carried a reassuring tone as she explained the details to (Y/N). "(Y/N), I'm here to talk about the next phase of your journey as Harry's personal hair stylist. Before we proceed, there's a requirement we need to discuss."

(Y/N) listened attentively, their anxious nature momentarily overshadowed by the genuine kindness radiating from Katie. Their voice quivered with curiosity as they asked, "W-what is it, Miss?"

Katie's eyes sparkled with understanding as she explained, "We'll need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement (NDA). It ensures that the collaboration between you and Harry remains confidential. You won't be able to share that you're working with him, except with your immediate family and close friends."

A mix of excitement and nervousness welled up within (Y/N) as they processed the information. Despite their apprehension, Katie's warm demeanour made them feel at ease. They could sense a genuine connection forming, a glimmer of a friendship that had the potential to blossom.

"I-I understand," (Y/N) replied, their voice tinged with a blend of enthusiasm and caution. "I’ll happily sign, Miss. I want to make this work."

Katie's smile widened, her encouragement palpable. "That's wonderful to hear, (Y/N). I have a feeling we're going to get along just fine. Together, we'll navigate the journey ahead and create something truly amazing."

As (Y/N) engaged in conversation with Katie, discussing the details and signing the necessary documents, Harry couldn't help but find himself captivated by her presence. With each word, each gesture, she exuded a certain grace and beauty that resonated with him.

He watched as (Y/N) delicately held the pen, her fingers gliding across the paper with a mixture of confidence and a hint of nervousness. There was an air of sincerity that surrounded her, her genuine nature shining through every interaction. It was in these moments that Harry found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

(Y/N)'s choice of attire only heightened Harry's admiration. The light blue cardigan draped gently over her shoulders, contrasting perfectly with the pristine white summer dress that flowed around her figure. The casualness of the ensemble, combined with the pair of vans on her feet, gave her an effortless allure. Her hair, neatly styled into two French braids, framed her face in a way that accentuated her features. With minimal makeup, her natural beauty radiated like a sunbeam.

To Harry, (Y/N) was like a burst of sunshine in a world that often seemed dim. Her genuine personality and the way she carried herself resonated deeply within him. As he watched her sign the document, he couldn't help but be captivated by her presence.

A sense of awe washed over Harry as he quietly observed, his heart fluttering with a newfound appreciation. In that moment, he recognized the remarkable blend of beauty and authenticity that made (Y/N) so captivating. It wasn't just her physical appearance, but the way she effortlessly exuded warmth and kindness, making those around her feel seen and valued.

As the ink dried on the paper, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for this unexpected connection. (Y/N) had become more than just a talented hair stylist; she had become a beacon of light in his life. And in that moment, he silently acknowledged the beauty that resided within her, both inside and out.

tag list: @kaverichauhan @teamspideyman @victoria-styles

[cakesandfail]

Do you have any headcanons about how Vetinari ended up taking power?

Actually yes I do!

I wrote a fic about his first day in power that vaguely referenced this and while I don't have like, a fully fleshed out story, there are a few bits and pieces that I sort of bodged together from things in the books and what I personally find entertaining about him as a character:

There's a bit in Soul Music which says that there was a rat plague in Ankh-Morpork shortly before Vetinari came to power, and that his solution was "tax the rat farms". It's unclear in context whether this means he suggested it at the end of Snapcase's time in power or if it was one of the first things he did after he became Patrician. I've just gone ahead and assumed that the rat plague was the last straw for Snapcase and that actually having a good suggestion was one of the reasons Vetinari was in people's minds as a replacement

That then leads us to ask, well, what on earth was he doing there? He's been in power a fair while even by Guards Guards but chronologically must still only be in his early 40s by then, to have been in his late teens in the 30-years-ago bits of Night Watch (and he can't be older than that, because it's made fairly clear that he's in the Guild equivalent of secondary school at that time, and Vimes knows that the two of them are approximately the same age). Given his canonically hilariously long list of postgrad qualifications, he probably went straight from Assassins Guild grad school to the Oblong Office, more or less. Conclusion: he was the fucking INTERN. (or possibly working as a clerk, but calling him the intern is at least 500% funnier)

Given the running joke about him being this weird posh dude who doesn't seem like a threat until you remember where he was educated, I would imagine that his whole "ah capital jolly good here I go getting slang wrong again" bullshit started here. We know that among the Ankh-Morpork elite, pretending to be stupider than you really are is something that can both keep you safe and help you get away with a lot, because we see Vetinari and Vimes and Sybil do it. So this is where he got his practice. Bertie Wooster the FUCK out of your working day, quietly get on with the things that need to be done while nobody's looking, and nobody will realise because they just think you're Madam's weird nephew with the shit beard and the puppy

So, bearing all that in mind, picture this:

Snapcase is dead. The important people (at least, the people who think themselves important) converge on the palace. In a small room off the Oblong Office is a young man steadily working through a large pile of paperwork. Oh, yes, that's Madam's nephew, you know... Havelock, isn't it? They ask if he knows what's happened, and he says no, he has no idea, he's just been working his way through all these regulations, and gosh, they really are very dull. And... well... nobody else is here. And nobody else seems to understand the filing system, or the rest of the staff, or anything really. But he does.

This guy's had a few good ideas when he's been doing the minutes at various meetings, that makes him a plausible candidate surely? And he's so young, so he's going to need a lot of guidance from helpful, experienced folks, right? How useful. He's just smart enough not to be an obvious puppet. Very handy indeed.

And the cream of Ankh-Morpork society being what they are (truly the cream- rich and thick) they don't realise until it's far too late that this lanky goth weirdo they'd thought would do their bidding knows everything about everyone and he's been quietly furious about the result of the Glorious 25th for over a decade. And, whoops, they'd somehow forgotten that he didn't spend all of that time on Guild postgraduate courses doing resits. Oh dear. And now he's their boss.