#in like. some years hopefully. but happiness before death is kind of ideal

[dragonmuse]

10 and 30 for the writer asks please?

10. Top three favourite fic tropes.

Found Family forever and always. My beloved. Followed by, hopefully also including in the same story, Domestic stuff (ideally not 'fluff', but like the day to day things that impact relationships etc), and Grump for Grump (any time two grumpy people make each other happy is a great day, preferably they are also very dangerous people).

I also did a whole ding-dong essay on my favorite kind of pairing: The Golden Knave and The Wounded Knight. I wrote it before OFMD even came out, but you might find some VERY familiar things there anyway!

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't.

woof, so many. The first one that comes to mind though was that I was Big Mad with the end of the new Star Wars Trilogy for a lot of reasons, but mostly that I hate 'Redemption Through Death' as a trope. I wanted Ben Solo to have to go on a biiiig long redemption trip goaded by Anakin's force ghost, who is a not very nice person to be haunted by, but is also trying to atone. Ben would've wound up on this partially abandoned space station where a bunch of kids got stranded because they were on there way to stormtrooper recruitment before everything went boom. Ben would wind up essentially in charge of this whole platoon of kids, figures out how to get them to a safe place, and accidentally starts a school because most of them have no where to go. He does that for ages, along with other 'fixing my mess' stuff' and at the very end, when he's really getting on in years, he runs into Rey again and they sit and have tea together. He's had flashes of her through the years and she of him, but now they can put memories and stories to those flashes and they make peace and Anakin finally tells Ben that he's done a good job after she leaves and Ben cries over it. Fade to black.

[redrobin-detective]

*crawls through you bedroom window* actually sorry I’m not done talking about the tragic, complicated clusterfuck which is Ben and Rook’s friendship/partnership. Because of how it was set up and their own personalities at the time, it was doomed to fail. I mentioned previously how neither got to know/understand the other and I retract that because it’s not entirely true. They did get to bond in a way that you almost have to when you’re in life or death situations together but they never talked about it and so each went on thinking they weren’t important to the other.

The whole nature of their partnership reeks of impermanence. Max obviously knew ahead of time that Gwen and Kevin were leaving for college and had time to prepare. Ben being on his own, reckless and stupid, was not an option. I wonder how many candidates they went through before they got to Rook. They chose someone who excelled at Plumber training, who knew the rules Ben never bothered to learn backwards and forwards. Someone who would balance out Ben and keep him reigned in. Someone who was obviously destined for higher management so why not give him the best field training possible? Rook, if not Ben, was certainly aware that it was a temporary thing. Ben was 16 going on 17, soon he wouldn’t need a partner anymore; this was the last attempt at training wheels. I imagine the partnership dissolved not long after Omniverse ends, when Rook becomes Magister and probably has new training and responsibilities. Ben, almost an adult by human standards and hopefully positively molded by Rook’s influence, is deemed ready to be on his own. 

So imagine you’re Rook, you’re a newly graduated Plumber who was ready to take on the universe. You’re informed you’re heading to Earth and you will be working one on one with your idol, the Ben 10, the one who inspired you to leave your traditional, isolated homeworld. You meet your hero and while he’s got the watch and the quips, he’s also a child in a culture you don’t understand. You’re disappointed that your hero isn’t as perfect as rumor and propaganda told you. You’re angry and frustrated and you don’t bother to hide it, Ben almost seems to retaliate by being more obnoxious. The more time you spend with Ben, you realize there’s a method to his madness. He wins more battles than he loses, what Rook at first took to be Ben’s flaws turn out to also be his strengths. Seeing Ben in action snarling and laughing in the face of certain destruction, he realizes that Ben is, at the same time, a stupid, idiot kid who barely has an idea of what he’s doing but also twice the hero Rook thought he was. Suddenly Ben 10 isn’t just a poster in his room or a radio show to listen to in the dark, he is a real person and that makes him even more worthy of admiration.

And Rook does admire him, quietly. Ben keeps up his walls and Rook lets him because who is he to try and really befriend Ben 10? Rook is just one of billions of Plumbers in the universe, Ben is the universe’s savior. I bet before Rook ever stepped foot on Earth it was drilled into him that Ben Tennyson was to be protected at all costs, that Rook’s life was nothing compared to Ben’s. Rook already comes from a very restrained and private culture, he won’t initiate anything beyond what is needed for to the mission and to save his partner. It is enough for him to be able to work alongside his hero (even if said hero is thoughtless and ridiculous and has no sense of self preservation and he drives Rook insane but by gum does he respect the hell out of Ben when he isn’t contemplating murdering him). When the time ultimately comes for Rook to depart, he will be sad but not mention it. Because he imagines he is only a blip on Ben’s radar, a temporary partner before Ben goes onto bigger and better things. He never tells Ben that his loyalty wasn’t to the Plumbers, to Ben 10 but to the scrawny, sleep deprived kid who always remembered Rook’s favorite smoothie flavor. 

Now imagine you’re Ben. You’ve saved the universe at the cost of your privacy, chance for a normal life, general sense of safety and sanity. You’re quickly losing track of what part is you and what part is the myth about you. Two of your three major support systems abandon you without notice. Over the years of AF/UAF, Gwen and Kevin saw all your brokenness, fears, vulnerabilities, watched you go from dumb kid to hero. You didn’t have to tell them these things, they saw them happen and just knew. And now they’re gone and you only have your grandpa who you love but is also sorta of your boss now. He tells you you’re being assigned a new partner, someone chosen without your consent, someone you’re expected to trust your life and secrets with. Fine, this Rook fellow will do. He can watch your back but he’s not having any pieces of your broken heart. 

You fight, both bad guys and each other. The two of you have such opposite styles that you clash. He may have training and discipline but you have experience and incredible power. You fumble and bicker and somewhere through it all find an understanding. Suddenly the rumble of his voice is familiar as Kevin’s once was, his logical approaches and teasing barbs slot in where Gwen’s used to be. It’s not bad, you tell yourself. You know this isn’t forever, that it’s not real, but it’s not bad. Because you know first and foremost that Rook is a Plumber and you are not. You also know he is a fan and you are acutely aware how short you fall from the perfect hero ideal. Ben laughs, clinging harder to the arrogant hero façade and pretends Rook’s disappointment doesn’t crush him. If someone who’s forced to work with him doesn’t like Ben, then how can he be the beloved savior everyone tells him he is even though he doesn’t quite know how he got there? He’s just a kid doing his best and soon buries himself in his perceived role.

Time passes, Ben and Rook have been through so much. Against your will, he’s seen some of your broken parts. He sees past your cracks, sees your guilt and grief and bone deep fear. But he doesn’t seem upset, even more disappointed by the failure hero. He is kind, friendly, understanding. Not enough that Ben feels comfortable to open up but he relaxes, just a bit. Rook isn’t just a forced upon partner, he’s now a friend. But he knows Rook is only here because he was ordered, he feels Rook’s annoyance with him and believes his kindness is only out of duty. It’s fine, he’s used to everyone around him bleeding him dry of everything he has and then some. Just another part of being a hero. He’s not Kevin or Gwen but he is Rook and he is grown on you because Ben is always an open soul, one who wants to receive some love he gives so freely. You finally feel steady, like you can stop pretending so much and try and find some peace and happiness in your dangerous, chaotic life.

Suddenly so fast, you’ve saved the universe once more and Rook is moving on. It’s like Gwen and Kevin leaving all over again. Rook himself seems excited to move up the ranks, to get more tassles on his uniform. He is a soldier at heart, you are not even if you play the part of one. You are a child only you’re not anymore, while you were busy saving everyone again and again your childhood was stolen from you. Now on the edge of adulthood, you’re told it’s time to take responsibility. You want to scream you’ve been doing that since you were 10 years old, that someone else can do  it for a change. You want to beg Rook to stay, to drag Gwen and Kevin home, to hide your loved ones away with you and not have to confront the big, bad universe alone. Instead, you do what you always do. You swallow all your fears, your wishes and hopes and shake his hand goodbye and wish him well. You don’t tell him you’ll miss him, neither does he. 

Rook and Ben part as the strangers they never stopped being even if both of them aches at the loss of the close proximity, of the friendship. Both are very much aware that the relationship was weak, transient, that it might have been something more if they gave it more attention. However, too many things were between them and both of them genuinely believed the other didn’t care as much. The rest of their lives they remain friendly, distant but polite. It’s not much different from when they fought side by side even if they wish it different.

[kstewdeux]

@inukagfluffweek

August 14, 2021 - Family

Sure

Summary: Inuyasha & Kagome discuss starting a family

“Knee,” Kagome whined softly as her foot prodded her husband’s leg so it would go where she wanted, “Knee Inuyasha.”

With a tired sigh, Inuyasha slid his foot up until it rested comfortably against his thigh and adjusted his hips so falling asleep in that position wouldn’t make him lock up. It was a tried and true ritual. One that he didn’t mean to perpetuate but Kagome was always the last one to go to bed. Always. So by the time she changed and brushed her hair and washed her face and did whatever else she felt inclined to do, he was typically asleep in a position he found comfortable. Kagome told him he slept like a vampire but having met and fought vampires Inuyasha had no idea what she was talking about. Besides, he didn’t know why it had always seemed to matter how he slept. Sitting up had just been how he’d done it for over a hundred years and even though three years had gone by, he still wasn’t used to those while laying down business. Having a body trained not to move wasn’t ideal for laying down and he usually woke up stiff. His muscles locking up for absolutely no reason out of habit. Sitting up, having muscles that locked was useful. Not so for how the rest of the world went down for the night.

Still, Kagome slept laying down. Always had. Always would. And he planned on sleeping next to her for the rest of her hopefully long life. Which killed the monk. Even occasional overnight exorcisms were out of the question. Sunup to sundown only.

“That better?” he yawned and Kagome nodded against the arm she was using as a pillow while Inuyasha’s hand absently played with tendrils of her hair.

One of the things he liked best was that in this position he could feel her ribs expand with each breath and the steady rhythm was soothing. Every couple found a sleeping position that worked for them it would seem and with his primary issue being hardwired survival anxiety, a cuddling position where no backs were being exposed worked best.

Problem with this position was that it’d make co-sleeping with an infant dangerous. Not that…that they were trying or even planning on having brats. Hell, they’d never spoken about it but by some unspoken understanding, they’d been careful. Kinda. Sometimes. Okay, fine, mainly they’d been whinging it and been lucky as hell.

But…you know…maybe one day…

Lips twitching upward, Inuyasha allowed himself to imagine what their own puffy blob of flesh would look like. Newborn babies…well they weren’t exactly the cutest things in the planet. More they looked like boiled prunes - both in color and looks. And the screams. But once they hit a few months old they definitely started looking more like tiny people and you could start seeing the parents. From a strangers perspective anyway. Miroku’s twins had always looked identical but they went through phases and who they favored depended on which parent was standing closest….

God he hoped whatever they had one day - not that he was even sure they’d have babies - was a girl. He’d make a decent looking boy or girl. After all, minus the coloring, he looked just like his mother who had been very pretty. Kagome…Kagome would only make a pretty girl. Sota sure as hell didn’t look like her though so maybe there were some okay looking boy genes in there but Inuyasha for the life of him could not imagine what a Kagome-looking boy would even be.

Nah. If they did one day have a…

“Why you purring?” Kagome hummed bemusedly in such a way that left him powerless to stop said noise. A noise that he’d only discovered he made since she fell back into his life. At first it bothered him that she called the chest growl thing a ‘purr’ but seeing as how he didn’t have a better name, he just rolled with it.

“Dunno,” he laughed softly.

“What were you thinking about?” Kagome hummed as she slowly and awkwardly began trying to roll towards him - something which had the purring noise stop immediately. It didn’t matter that his brain knew they were safe and there was no need to worry about being exposed. His body though….was hard wired to worry.

She froze.

“I didn’t…”

“S’not the question. It’s the stupid back thing,” Inuyasha reassured her wearily before running one hand over his face, “Look, I was thinking about us having kids, alright?”

The slow smile that bloomed on her lips as she sat up brought the soft purring sound back.

“And what were your initial thoughts?” Kagome asked curiously and the purring sound intensified.

“How newborns look like meat sacks,” he offered as he stretched his legs out and yawned, “And how they’re loud. And obnoxious. And how they shit everywhere…”

“Ah but said things made you happy,” Kagome observed and shrugging, Inuyasha didn’t deny it. Couldn’t anyway given the vibrations rumbling from his chest. Well, that was what they assumed it meant anyway. Could be he was dying or something. Wouldn’t that be the final kick in the balls.

“Thinking about it and living it are two different things. Reality is I’d fuck them up,” Inuyasha countered with an ill-checked half-grin, “You’d have to go around fixing them all the time.”

“You’d be a good daddy,” Kagome soothed as she lay back down and stared up at the ceiling - allowing Inuyasha to fully relax by covering her back. She never really thought of Inuyasha as the anxious type but apparently that was his secret to surviving so long and once they’d figured it out and pinned down his triggers to better avoid them, he’d actually been significantly less…grumpy. In fact, he could be downright pleasant most of the time.

Miroku and Sango had told her on more than one occasion that Inuyasha seemed, at times, like a completely new person. In public, he was still by and large snippy and obstinate but among friends and in private, his natural state of being sans anxiety was much more Kagome-like than any of them previously believed. Looking back, he had always seemed to find comfort in being around others but he was never what anyone would call sensitive or attune to emotional needs of others. In recent months, however, he’d been surprisingly observant, kind and gentle.

Well, actually it wasn’t all that surprising. The gentleness yes but the rest of it? No. Every time one of them lost it during the quest, Inuyasha was always the one who stepped up and did exactly the right thing to bring his friends’ minds back to center. In fact, his brand of abrasive encouragement was what saved their souls from being devoured by the moth demon’s trap. Whenever any of them felt like giving up, Inuyasha had been the one to encourage them to keep going. In some ways Inuyasha was so forgiving it was beyond understanding. For all his insults and for all his aggression, Inuyasha could be…damningly gracious. Kikyo being, well, Kikyo. Sango stealing his sword. Miroku trying to kill him. Shippo pulling trick after trick. None of those things ever drove him away.

That wasn’t to say Inuyasha didn’t get irritable or react poorly when said things happened but he did tend to let things go eventually and truly act like nothing happened. And his brand of love was protection and providing so there was that too.

So maybe it wasn’t all that surprising that being kind and gentle was his calm state of being. Now that he was more comfortable and no one was in imminent danger of dying a horrible, painful death; now that Kagome had been returned to him and everything worked out, how his natural being manifested was different was all.

But his anxiety still did rear it’s ugly head on occasion. New things. Unexpected things. Any slightly uncomfortable thing and he’d instantly snap his abrasive behavior back into place. There were also his triggers of course but those could be negated.

For example, he never slept with his back exposed and now that Kagome was, sorta, an extension of himself, his body decided to make him skittish at night if she too was left ‘open to attack.’ Not fun for anyone involved - the amount of twitching alone had kept them both awake until they figured out the issue.

“Don’t know how to be a father,” he sighed sadly - the purring sound grounding to halt, “So maybe…maybe kids isn’t something we should do. What…what if I hurt them? They won’t be like me. They’ll be mostly human. I’ll be too rough.”

“No because of that fear, I imagine you’d treat them like they might shatter,” Kagome pointed out and with that, Inuyasha reached over to intertwine their fingers.

“I could turn one day. You…or they might get hurt and I’ll make it worse,” he offered in a small voice, “I’m dangerous. I shouldn’t…and what if they can’t control what I give them? What if they’re born and…and they’re just like that all the time?”

Turning her head to look at his defeated face, Kagome sighed and waited for him to look at her. When he did, the worry mixed with longing made her heart ache. He wanted kids. That much was clear from his expression as was the fact that he didn’t trust himself.

“Inuyasha, I always bring you back, don’t I?” she pointed out and with a faint nod of acknowledgment, her statement seemed to soothe some of the anxiety that needed checking, “And our baby will be part me too. So it’ll have both….”

“It could purify itself. Hurt itself,” he countered shakily, “And we’re happy just the two of us. What if I’m a bad father and you end up hating me? What if it ends up being a mistake? Ruins everything?”

“I will never abandon you,” Kagome promised as she brought his hand up to her lips and gave his thumb a quick kiss, “Never.”

A nod and a relieved sigh. Like he knew that to be the case but wanted to hear it anyway. There was still some tension though which meant his fears hadn’t been addressed completely and so Kagome waited for him to continue. It had taken a few months but anymore he discussed everything with her. From feelings to fears to his past. The only thing off the table was Kikyo but that was more her hang up than his.

From his perspective, he found himself much lighter when he heard her opinion rather than just imaging what she was thinking. His inner monologue was usually depressing and rather cruel. Always assuming everyone hated him or was upset with him in some way. That everyone thought the worst. How he needed to receive love was verbal affirmations. Kagome would’ve thought it was touch but she discovered words were much more effective. What would’ve happened if she just told him back then how deeply he was loved? But, alas, she didn’t and it didn’t matter. In fact, that would’ve been worse. What if he achieved this and then had her taken away?

“I mean, do you want kids? You’ve never really said…” Inuyasha asked wearily and Kagome knew if she said yes, he’d do whatever she wanted. Even if it terrified him.

No. This needed to be his choice. His decision.

“What do you want?”

For a long moment, he was quiet before he swallowed and closed his eyes.

“I think you want them,” he answered evasively before pulling up one knee and fidgeting slightly, “And I don’t know. I want…I want, you know, the type of things Sango and Miroku have with their brats. And what I had with my mother before she got sick. I want someone to…to…you know, there’s just some type of connection. I…I wouldn’t mind being a brat’s person.”

“Their person?” Kagome asked curiously and Inuyasha let out a long sigh as he swayed his knee.

“Like…like you know they’ll take care of you. You scrape your knee. They fix it. You get hungry, they give you snacks. You get sad and just…just they….,” Inuyasha floundered before seemingly choosing a word to describe what he meant, “A helper. I wouldn’t mind being their helper.”

“You’d be the best helper,” Kagome sighed affectionately and Inuyasha eyes fluttered open.

“You really think so? I don’t have the…the warm thing going…”

Nodding, Kagome gently rolled onto her side and scooted her back against his torso. Like clockwork, he assumed their former position and sighed contentedly.

“You…” she belatedly started to address his comment but he was already off to the races.

“I could work on that though. You know, with the twins,” Inuyasha opined hopefully - like he was trying to convince her that he could be a good father and encourage her to say yes, “See…see if I could get better at the whole…whole warm thing. I bet I could get the hang of it in a month or two. I mean look at how fast I mastered Tessaiga. You wouldn’t have to worry about…about me scarring the kid.”

“That has never been a concern,” Kagome chided affectionately earning a frustrated grunt. Oh yeah, he was trying to get her to just make the decision or convince her to just agree with his decision. A decision he’d clearly already made.

“Inuyasha, I know you’d be a great daddy,” Kagome finally yawned - earning a faint blush, “But don’t push yourself just because you think I want this. I only want babies if you do too. I’m honestly okay either way.”

She felt him inhale deeply.

“I think…I think I’ll see if…if I can do the warm thing then we can decide,” Inuyasha hummed before adding hesistantly, “I think I can do it but I wanna be sure.”

“I…”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I could do it,” Inuyasha continued to think out loud, “But I just want to be sure, ya know? And I want you to be sure I’m good for it.”

At this, Kagome laughed softly despite herself - the hand by her head sliding up to cup his. Curling her fingers between his fingers, she pressed her fingertips against his palm.

“I know you can do…”

“J-just think about it,” Inuyasha interrupted shakily as he gave her hand a light squeeze “A-and I’ll think about it. And we can…talk about it when we’re sure.”

The miko grinned and replied with a soft laugh, “Sure.”

“Will you be mad if I…I think about it and say no?” he asked hesitantly and Kagome shook her head - making some of the tension seep out of him. For a long time, he was quiet and Kagome was just about to pass out when she heard his voice - small and timid - whisper those three little words he didn’t say that often.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know. You show me all the time,” she affirmed and with a timid half-smile, Inuyasha flexed his hand ever so.

“Just want to make sure you know…”

“I do.”

“And you still love me, right?”

“Always.”

“Okay. Just want to make sure…”

[ethernetchord]

lets talk: popular iwwv criticism

(disclaimer: i know criticism is subjective and thats why im doing this, i wanna look at some common points made against iwwv and dissect them just a little bit in the opposite direction. also none of this is directed at any individual- it’s all based on the general talking points i’ve seen surrounding the book.)

SPOILER WARNING !!

lack of exploration into james and oliver (+ gay characters feel performative)

i’ve seen loads of people say that oliver and james’ relationship felt very performative, a way of including the queer romnce which clearly is very important to the plot but not actually giving it any space in the novel, nor developing it to the same extent which meredith/oliver was.

oliver and meredith had a very strictly physical relationship and while he did love her, he wasn’t in love with her the way he was with james. the juxtaposition in the way that oliver/james is delivered and the way meredith/oliver is delivered is, i believe, far too repetitive to not be intentional. i actually realised upon re-reading how much focus there really is on meredith’s sexuality, even in subtleties in the book. meredith and oliver get more blatant sex scenes, get more physical parts because oliver was (to an extent) using his attraction to meredith to distract himself from his infatuation with james.

we also have to remember that oliver and james didn’t get their real moment of honesty about their relationship till extremely late into the book. i’d honestly see it as more ‘performative’ to then after or in the middle of kind lear throwing in some wild sex scene between the two. it wouldn't have fit.

“why didn’t james and oliver get together earlier then >:(((“ because the slow burn between them, the subtext, the subtle-ness, the yearning, they were all crucial to the decision which oliver made at the end. the fact that they burned so bright for each other but (oliver particularly) were so desperately repressed, that was what made this such a tragic romance. yes its tiring to read stories about queer people being repressed, yes its tiring to see the bury your gays trope. but like oliver says, it goes beyond gender.

if oliver’s second love interest was a girl, and treated this way, we’d be a lot more on board with these tropes- but the fact that james is a man, and this therefor becomes a queer relationship, makes it feel performative. i can’t convince you of anything- but i like to believe that their relationship being treated like this not only makes it so much more “heart wrenching because why! why couldn’t it work out, why couldn’t it be better!” - not because its a queer relationship but because they were soulmates.

alexander wasn’t performative. not in the slightest, rio just didn’t make being gay his entire identity. same goes for colin. just because they’re queer doesn’t mean it needs to be the only thing about them. this isn’t a lgbt novel- characters dont have to be gay just for plot. they can just be gay.

i’ve also seen people complain about not just making oliver bisexual. guys. did you read the book? he was bisexual. he was emotionally and physically attracted to both meredith and james. guys that’s literally what bisexual means.

i'm totally on board with the coming out scenes! and realisation of feelings and all that stuff- but again, not an lgbt centric novel and also- these were things oliver probably did and realised far before this book. remember that its set in 4th year, at an art school. he knew he was fruity ok. not every queer character in every queer book have to have these grandious coming out scenes or realisations. the lack there of doesn’t equal performance.

the ending was rushed and bad

believe what you will, but i don’t think james is dead. there’s a little too much ambiguity in that ending, in the extract he leaves oliver, in the “his body was never found.” so if your main quarrel with the ending is that “bury your gays” situation- please know there’s a chance- and that giving it that chance opens up so much more discussion and reader response.

yes, the ending is sad. but it’s not rushed. “but that is how a tragedy like ours or king lears breaks your heart- by making you believe the ending might still be happy until the very last second.” doing king lear, doing macbeth, doing romeo and juliet, the plays are chosen not only for reader convenience (they’re plays readers will most likely be familiar with) but also because they all, so very deeply, foreshadow a “bad” ending. killing james, makes sense. as much as people don’t want to hear it, from an authorial perspective- from the reader’s perspective and as a human being it makes sense. why do keep arguing that he “should’ve stayed alive for oliver” or that “if he really loved oliver he wouldn’t have done it” - why are we limiting a character’s entire existence down to their love interest. yes, they were best friends, yes they were set up as lovers but that doesn’t mean that that would be enough to keep james around. james was a fragile character- he was always checking with oliver if he had upset him, he was always worried, overthinking, james wasn’t strong minded- and he was suffering. the only person he had left to depend on was in prison, he was plagued with the guilt of causing the death of a classmate and letting oliver take the blame, if he did kill himself, it sure as hell doesn’t have any reason to sound forced.

“its not nearly as good as the secret history!!!!”

to be honest here buds, why the fuck do we keep comparing them so insistently. they are not the same book. iwwv wasn’t trying to be tsh 2.0, yes there are similarities because hey! guess what! books in similar genres tend to do that! always comparing it tsh when they have different motives, different plots and vastly different execution makes no sense. the only reason that they are compared is because tumblrtm dark academics like to group the two together. and yea- makes sense, but stop trying to belittle iwwv because it isn't as grandiose as tsh, because it’s a little more literal, because it’s not as intertextual as tsh. half the people saying iwwv isn’t as good as tsh are practically just subtly going “shakespeare isn’t as complicated as ancient greek huehue” stop forcing the two together and let them be separately appreciated.

the characters were flat/archetypes/etc

sigh. okay.

these characters are actors. this book shows us their transition from themselves entirely into a conjunction of the roles they’ve played and the stereotypes they’ve portrayed.

“we were so easily manipulated - confusion made a masterpiece of us.”

“for us, everything was a performance”

“imagine having all your own thoughts and feelings tangled up with all the thoughts and feelings of a whole other person. it can be hard, sometimes, to sort out which is which.”

“far too many times i had asked myself whether art was imitating life or if it was the other way around”

“it’s easier now to be romeo, or macbeth, or brutus, or edmund. someone else.”

are you seeing it now? this focus on their archetypes, this focus on the character they are; the way they see themselves not merely as human but as a walking concoction of every character they have turned into and out of. they depend on their archetypes to give them meaning. rio uses these archetypes to remind us of the submersion of her characters. they weren’t flat, their intentional lack of dimension due to their pasts is what makes them so intricate. furthermore, there's an evident subversion- the tyrant becomes a victim, the hero becomes a villain (they all become villains really), the ingenue becomes corrupted. like mentioned before, i think we forget ourselves easily reading this book but there is a great deal of emphasis on this being their last year- which is so important. the damage has been done and a lot of the issues people have with the content (or lack thereof) in this book has to do with the fact that it’s all things that would have occurred in books focusing on previous years at delletcher.

“it didn't live up to expectation” (also leading on from read tsh to this and being ‘disappointed’)

i cant argue this because its entirely subjective. whatever expectation was created for you, i cannot know that and appropriately respond however- if you liked the secret history and understood the secret history then there's a good chance you also liked and understood this book- even if not to the same extent but you must be able to recognize the authorial approach and its significance. i think a lot of ppl read iwwv (and a lot of “dark academia” texts and films) and hope to be able to romanticize the aesthetic or the concepts and then are disappointed when they are presented with mildly unlikeable and overwhelmingly human characters who aren’t easy to romanticize.

a great majority of these books are criticisms of the very culture you’re trying to romanticize, and the only time you’re willing to admit that is when boasting about the ‘self-awareness’ of the people indulging in them, and then a moment later complain about those same qualities because they don’t serve this idealized expectation.

bad rep for arts/liberal arts/ humanities students as being pretentious/cultish

as a humanities student with a great love for eng lit- all of these things are indeed pretentious and cultish. not all the time and not always and not every person- but it is a common theme. academia is overwhelmingly obsessive and extremely white-washed. people become so fast to believe that they are indulging in finer arts and are therefore a higher standard of person. academia is problematic. and the recent influx of people interested in it is good, very good because hopefully, we’ll be more diverse, more open-minded, more accepting. that's what i hope at least. if you know, as an individual, that you’re not a pretentious academic who places themselves above non-academics then that's wonderful- but there are dangers and negative sides to academia that need to be understood so that we can see to not perpetuating them.

i cant refute all points, mostly because there's a lot of good and well-explained criticism because no book is perfect. and my intentions are not to belittle anyone's opinion. these are merely opposing arguments, food for thought and to be fair- a critical look into why not everything is always going to be what we expect of it and why every ‘problem’ can be assessed.

[jikookiekosmos]

Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv​​​​ for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk​ @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

[makeste]

regarding Best Jeanist, Dabi, and all of that

@kaleswagdragon​ I hope you don’t mind me posting this comment and my response as its own post, seeing as it quickly got out of hand and sort of morphed into a whole entire essay.

anyway, so! you say that it’s a mischaracterization, but it’s really not, though. I mean, props for bringing up the cultural context of Japan, in which the honne-tatemae culture of covering up anything that might lead to any sort of conflict -- even if it means harming an innocent victim in the process -- is a very real issue. so given that, I understand why so many people are interpreting Jeanist’s statement in a “how dare you bring this family shame to light” sort of way. and Caleb’s “dirty laundry” translation doesn’t help, given the “we’re more embarrassed than actually concerned about this” feel of that particular phrase, which he apparently chose just because of the clothing pun without really giving much thought to any other implications.

but in the actual Japanese, the meaning/context is somewhat different. here’s a link to a twitter thread clarifying the original spoiler translation, and breaking down the actual Japanese dialogue.

I think the meaning here is very clearly “you waited until the public’s faith in heroes was already wavering to bring this down on them as a final blow.” if he was simply criticizing Dabi for publicizing the Todoroki family drama, he would have stopped with that first sentence. the two sentences afterward (“you waited until everyone’s faith in heroes was wavering, when the damage would be too great to handle”) make it clear that what he’s actually calling Dabi out for is the way that he basically weaponizes his story into the perfect political tool to finally take down the heroes. which is an observation that we as the readers can verify for ourselves as being true. look at how he so carefully edited the footage of Twice’s death. look at the contrast between the way he acts in the video, compared with the homicidal glee we see from the actual Dabi in real time.

Jeanist is notably the only one who is able to get the same perspective as the readers here, since he’s the only person who’s physically present in Jakku with the real Dabi, but is also able to hear the video being broadcast. meaning that he’s able to hear both video!Dabi’s calm, prerecorded “I’m just a concerned citizen trying to look out for a society being taken advantage of by the ones charged with protecting it” speech, and actual!Dabi’s “hahaha fuck you Endeavor I’m bringing the whole country down even as we speak, well anyway time to kill you all” reality. he alone can see that stark contrast between the concerned whistleblower act Dabi is putting onscreen, versus his true attitude of “I don’t actually give a fuck, I just want to eradicate the heroes and make my dad suffer.” basically, Jeanist is the only one who can see that juxtaposition, and see Dabi’s reveal for what it really is, seeing as Dabi literally spelled it out for Endeavor and the others. and so he’s calling him out on that.

and he’s not wrong to do so. it’s clear that a lot of fans vehemently disagree with this, but being an abuse survivor doesn’t excuse you from having the same obligation as every other human being on the planet to try your best to be a decent person, which at minimum means not going out of your way to hurt other people. I say this as someone who’s experienced abuse, which shouldn’t need to be a disclaimer honestly, but I guess that’s how it is these days. anyways, though, I have, and I know a lot of other people who have as well. it’s a terrible, awful, exceptionally shitty thing to experience, and it affects everyone in different ways. and every single person who goes through something like that deserves help and support and time to heal, and it’s a tragedy and an injustice that Dabi, from what we have seen, never got any of that.

but that doesn’t excuse him from still being held to the same basic standard of “hurting other people is shitty” as everyone else. it doesn’t mean he gets a free pass. it doesn’t mean that anyone who says “hey, Dabi using his trauma as an excuse to murder people is kind of fucked up” is an abuse apologist. and it doesn’t mean Horikoshi is an abuse apologist for writing him that way, for that matter, because guess what? sometimes people who are abused grow up to become abusers. that’s just a fucked-up thing that happens sometimes. and pretending like it doesn’t is ironically not all that different from that whole “sweeping things under the rug” concept you mentioned earlier. it does happen, and I think it’s important to acknowledge that, because acknowledging it is one of the necessary steps to take in fixing it.

this attitude of “if someone was abused they should be absolved of responsibility for their actions” that I’ve seen in some posts is taking the concept of “abuse often has a profound impact on people’s mental health, and that should be taken into consideration before judging them too harshly for behavior that they can’t always necessarily control”, and twisting it into this nice little loophole that people can use to duck accountability whenever it’s convenient. but being abused doesn’t give you the right to abuse other people, is my point. nothing gives somebody the right to do that.

and Dabi is hurting other people. he waited ten years to tell his story specifically because he wanted to use it to make others suffer. and, putting aside the part where he’s trying to engineer the downfall of society as a precursor to the mass destruction he and his pals have planned, he also broadcast the story nationwide without the consent of the other abused parties involved. which I’m not saying he didn’t have the right to do, mind you, because it’s his story as well as theirs, and he has the right to tell it. and the right to make his abuser’s crimes as public as he wants, if that’s what he decides. but it also ignores the question of what his mother and siblings might want, and the fact is that they’re also survivors, and so in theory should have the same right as Dabi to choose their own healing process, and decide exactly how they want their abuser, who like so many abusers is also a close family member, to be held accountable. anyway, but all of that is obviously very, very complicated and I don’t think there’s a clear right or wrong side as far as this part of it all. it’s not a situation where everyone can be happy, which unfortunately is often how it goes.

anyway, I’ve kind of meandered pretty far from my original point now, so my bad. my points are, basically,

(a) I think the linked explanation does show that Jeanist is chiding Dabi for using his trauma in this specifically scheming and destructive way, as opposed to saying “shame on you for not being a good little victim and staying quiet”, which would be a ridiculous thing for Horikoshi, who’s explored the topic of abuse more thoughtfully than any other mangaka I’ve read, to randomly have one of his protagonists say.

and (b) the people calling Dabi out on his shit aren’t all smug victim-blamers who have no sympathy for what he has been through. the latter point (and a lot of this post, actually) isn’t particularly directed at you btw; it’s more of just a general statement brought on by some of the discussion that’s been going on these past few days.

anyways, I actually like that the fandom is talking about all of this! I just think it’s a very complex subject, and an even more complex situation currently in the manga. and ideally, people would try to acknowledge that complexity when discussing it, rather than simply picking a side and doubling down on it no matter what, or shooting down the whole thing as problematic writing just because isn’t a neat and tidy situation where you can simply say “oh, person A is right and person B is wrong, that’s it, end of story.” it’s not, unfortunately. it’s a messy clusterfuck of a topic that’s only going to get messier as this plot continues, so hopefully we can all just sort of brace ourselves for that lol. this is really just the tip of the iceberg, I think.

[memento-morri-writes]

Happy Blorbo Blursday, Morri !

For the character who is most plot important what is his or hers or theirs relationship to a character who is a side character or significantly less important?

~ love, leia

Hi Leia!! Thanks for the ask!

Ooh, this is a fun question!!! Gives me a chance to talk about two relationships between side characters and Fallon.

Fallon and Captain Blackthorne:

Captain Blackthorne (Fallon's captain of the guard) has known Fallon since she was born. Literally her entire life. Because of this and also his good friendship with Rosalynn, he has a sort of fatherly love for her. And because of that, he really, really wants to protect her. The worst thing he can imagine happening is something happening to Fallon, and him not being able to do anything about it. (Like what happened to Rosalynn.) For her part, Fallon does love Captain Blackthorne. After her mother's death, he was literally the only person she trusted. She asked him to stay as her captain of the guard, and he did. However, since Wymond was basically completely absent from Fallon's life growing up, she's not used to having that kind of protective or fatherly love. (Not to say Rosalynn didn't love her, because she did. She adored Fallon. But her love was different from what Wymond's should have been, and what Blackthorne's is.) Because of this, Fallon sometimes feels vaguely smothered by Blackthorne, despite the fact that he genuinely means well and has her best interests at heart. (Not to mention that he's usually right.) And because of her tendency to push away the people she loves when stressed, Blackthorne often got the brunt of that. (See after Lavinia's attack when Fallon tells Blackthorne that she is his Queen, not his daughter.)

another relationship under the cut!

Fallon and Duncan:

I know I've mentioned some of this before, but Duncan is vitally plot important. A lot more than you would think, to be honest. I've half-jokingly said you can trace all of the problems of ATQH back to Pierre Pelle, and similarly, a lot of things happen because of Duncan. (not all bad.) Duncan is the Duke of a province in western Anvia, right along the border with Oryn. He's kind, caring, and puts his people first. Everyone loves him, from the citizens to the other nobles. And so when Fallon reopens the Palace and announces that she'll be open to receiving suitors, everyone assumes Duncan is the logical choice. He's well-loved by the people, handsome, Anvian, a hopeless romantic, plays the piano, and to top it all off, as a lovely singing voice. Oh, and he has a massive crush on Fallon. To everyone, it seems like he would make her perfectly happy, and be the ideal Prince Consort. And Fallon does respect him immensely. He's the kind of person that Fallon wishes more people were: honest, kind, and dedicated. She is very impressed and happy with what he's done with his province even in the first few years as Duke. But there's one problem. Fallon doesn't love him, at least not romantically. She's not even remotely attracted to him, either. She cares about him, and loves him as a friend, but she has no romantic feelings for him. So when he proposes, she lets him down slowly. Weirdly enough, this triggers both The Incident, and also Lavinia's assassination attempt. (For different reasons, but also not really.) Also, Duncan doesn't really trust Kristopher. He's from Oryn, and Duncan's province has been the most affected by the rebel raiders. And also, he can be arrogant at times, which Duncan doesn't like. But he's too nice, too kind, and too much of a pushover to do or say anything. Several years down the line, however, peace is made after Kris gets fucking poisoned and almost dies near Duncan's estate. :)))

Thanks for the ask, Leia!! Hopefully you like this answer!

[ssscentral]

Drawing Blood [Taehyung x Reader]

Summary: An attempt to get over a two year crush on your friend (and a suspected vampire) leads to interesting discoveries.

genre: angst, fluff, supernatural, vampire, god

warnings: death mentioned in passing

wc: 3.8k

member: Lillia || @moccahobi​

a/n: Happy (late) birthday @voiceswithoutlips​!

You fell into your bed, a headache developing as you screamed into your pillow. You’d hoped that a date would help clear up some of your emotional constipation like some detox but instead you were left even more confused and torn. That date was so nice. 

Sure, you hadn’t been on many dates or even socialized much since you finally got a deadline for your next manuscript (and it in many ways felt more like two friends hanging out than a romantic date… but it was just one date… that could change). This was also by far one of the best dates you’d had. Jungkook was such a gentleman and you had so much fun.

You’d only met Jungkook last week, the man talking you up at the cafe you were writing at. He exuded confidence and you were drawn in by his detailed tattoos and soft voice (it’d helped as well that you could have sworn that you recognized him vaguely, although you couldn’t place where). Next thing you knew, the two of you were texting and excitedly making plans for a date at a small pizza shop that you immediately fell in love with. He was apparently a picky eater with a sensitive stomach, which reminded you so much of two of your friends (Seokjin and Taehyung), so he only had a few slices of pizza and one of the fancy drinks the shop sold (you suspected that Jungkook was a vampire and the drink was some fancy blood based drink but didn’t want to pry). Unlike Jungkook, you stuck with a simple soda to wash down your pizza, and unlike Jungkook you weren’t limited to a few foods (a perk of being a minor god probably). 

In fact, Jungkook got a hoot at just how much you could eat (you didn’t tell him yet since it was just the first date, but as a minor god, you needed to eat a lot since you burned so much energy) and you got a hoot out of slowly eating the pizza as he eyed it with hunger. The man had a sensitive stomach, not a lack of taste and the pizza was damn good.

That being said, the night seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and soon enough the pizza shop was closing and Jungkook was walking you home. You offered for him to come in since the two of you were having so much fun but he didn’t take you up on that offer . Jungkook simply kissed you sweetly and said goodbye. 

A sigh left you as you thought about the kiss, a ghost of the kiss still caressing your own lips still tingling at the idea of it. 

Jungkook was so sweet!

But you didn’t think the two of you clicked romantically. At least not this date. You’d probably give it a few more dates, a seed of hope whispering to you that he might be what you need to get over a long term crush. That being said, what if he developed feelings and you didn’t and then a potential friendship was ruined? 

It was an amazing date but the more you reflected on it, the less it felt like his romantic passes hit you as much. Sure, you felt giddy because of his soft kiss and the many compliments but was that because of Jungkook or because you wanted affection?

You’d been holding out for your crush to ask you out for so long and only recently settled on the idea that, despite the flirtyness of some conversations, he probably didn’t like you one bit. Seokjin was the one who urged you to go on a date with Jungkook. Seokjin was also the only one who knew about your crush on your mutual friend. 

A comfort did come to you in the fact that Jungkook was busy tonight. You didn’t have to text him expressing how much you enjoyed the date yet. You had time to think through stuff and hopefully have a better understanding of what you did want. 

With that thought in mind, you tried to clear your mind and fall asleep but after an hour, you still couldn’t. So you did what any logical insomniac did:

You rolled over and opened discord. Only one of your friends, Taehyung, was online and while you were torn about talking to your crush about your date, you also knew that he was dying to hear how your date went. Even if he was a tad suspicious about Jungkook (“who would just… walk up to you and talk?! That is extroverted… and extroverts are scary”), he was curious. Plus, with how sweet Jungkook was during the date, you were fairly positive that Taehyung would  have to love Jungkook.

Right?

The more you thought about it, the less sure you were.

You shook your head.

Taehyung was an oddball you’d met back when you were a regular at the local library. He was the main person who worked night shifts and you were one of the few people who liked to be at the library at night. After a week of him stuttering welcome and goodbye when you were in the library, you finally worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation about a manga he was reading. 

That was basically the start of your friendship with him. 

After that night, he would help you procrastinate on your work by reading mangas together and that then evolved to getting breakfast together some mornings after his shift. Not surprisingly, that also evolved into a small crush. He was funny and kind and sweet and good looking. That being said, you didn’t think he liked you back. Sometimes he’d flirt but for the most part he actually seemed to not care about romance which is understandable. You had an inkling that he was a supernatural being of sorts and you understood how hard it was to indulge in romance when humans were often very scared of the supernatural. It took you so long before you even contemplated going on a date with non-gods (and even gods because relationships got messy between gods).

Despite your crush, he was a good friends and he was bound to be up at this time, unlike Seokjin or Jisoo. If you messaged one of them, they’d probably wake up just to scold you for being up so late. 

Talking with Taehyung hadn’t turned out how you’d hoped though. You tried to show only the best parts so that he’d trust Jungkook more (and maybe also to try and make Taehyung jealous) but it seemed as if even the idealized store made  Jungkook seem even more suspicious and you found yourself stopping Taehyung in the middle of a tangent, your headache growing. You liked Jungkook. You were still unsure if you liked him romantically but you did like him in a friendly manner… what was Taehyung seeing that was so strange?

Hell.

You thought that they were fairly similar. 

Both seemed to work late nights. They both enjoyed dark red drinks. They both had an interest in fashion. They both had a similar humor. Both enjoyed games. You could go on. They were very similar. 

Did they have some past conflict?

Taehyung was often overly protective of you. It was a struggle to have him accept your friendship with Seokjin but he was never this suspicious. Although that could have been because you were fairly positive they were friends before you became friends with either of them.

You tossed over in your bed, your mind becoming more clouded.

There were other friends that Seokjin and Taehyung shared that Taehyung was fairly determined to not let you meet. You had an inkling that Seokjin and Taehyung were either the same supernatural creature or were opposites which could explain why they fought… but Taehyung’s other friends? He chose them as friends, right? They would like each other. A tight knot formed in your stomach as you thought more about it. Taehyung didn’t have a problem with other people you were friends with (and some you knew for a fact were supernatural beings as well)… only those he knew previously… who from what you’ve seen in pictures, were fairly attractive bachelors…

Did Taehyung have a crush on you? 

Well… fuck… that would make sense. 

His original reasoning for not wanting you to go on a date was because Jungkook was extraverted… but so was Chae and Mina. He often checked in to make sure you got places safely and always jumped to hang with you. From what you’d gathered from some bruises that Seokjin and Taehyung sported shortly before Taehyung became ok with you being friends with Seokjin, there was also some sort of fight there. The more you thought about it, the more you were sure that the two fought shortly before Taehyung became ok with you two being friends. 

The possible fight was just so odd in general. You brushed it off because both seemed to be fine but it most definitely made you a tad apprehensive of the two and you practically avoided them for a month after that. If it hadn’t been for them working to show that they were close for almost a year after that, you would have been close to dropping both of them.

Did that mean that Seokjin was trying to come onto you at first?

The knot in your stomach tightened uncomfortably. 

He was friendly and somewhat flirty, but no more than he was for others! Were you just so oblivious? 

No. You were fairly positive that he didn’t try to come onto you. Sure he was flirty for a little at the beginning of your friendship, but it dropped soon into your friendship.

Taehyung has known you for at least three years now though… Why hasn’t he made a move? 

You got up anxiously. There was no way you’d be able to sleep tonight. Thoughts were racing through your head at the speed of professional track and field runners and they were all making you more anxious and confused. Nothing was adding up properly and a headache was blooming the longer you dwelled on it all… but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

By five in the morning, you were exhausted and just wanted an answer.

Which is what led to you doing one of the most ballsy things in your life. 

You texted Taehyung (in a long rambling paragraph) asking if he liked you romantically. 

He most definitely saw it and shortly after went offline (or invisible). Surely he got off at 4:30 unless the next person was late. He should have time to respond. You took a deep breath and went to your small and shabby kitchen to grab a glass of water, hopeful that the water would add clarity to the confusion you were feeling. 

As you sipped from your chipped cup, you tried to distract your mind from the many scenarios that were running through your mind. Every five seconds, your mind would stray again and you were once again forced to refocus on the world around you. 

In another moment of focus on the present moment, an incessant knock at your door made you jump in shock. The knocking scared you at first (because who in their right mind would possibly be at your house at five in the morning) until you noticed the knocks happening in a pattern.

It was Taehyung.

The man child could never resist knocking in a pattern even if it was a serious situation. But why was he at your house? 

If he didn’t have a crush on you, he could just text you that.

If he did… maybe that would warrant coming over? 

Or maybe he was so mortified at you even thinking that you liked him. 

Fuck. You hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Yeah! Open the door!” Taehyung’s shout pulled you out of your worries and you rushed over to let him in. 

His work and home were both at least three kilometers away from your house and yet when you opened the door, he seemed to have barely broken a sweat nor was he gasping for air (which just further verified to you that he was some sort of supernatural creature). If you didn’t know his habits after work, you would have thought that he was already in your area when you texted. 

“I don’t want to go out with you.” He stated as soon as he entered your house, his shoulders tense and eyes wide. 

“Ok? You could have just texted me that.” 

His wording was confusing but nonetheless, it cut like a sword. He didn’t like you and didn’t want to go out with you. It stung a little (maybe a lot… you did have a crush on him for a whole two years after all) to know that he didn’t like you but you’d been trying to accept that for a while so it was really just a confirmation of what you already knew.

It wasn’t important. 

He was just a good friend. You were friends. Nothing more. Besides, you were hopefully starting something with Jungkook. It was good that Taehyung didn’t like you. 

Totally.

You didn’t like him. 

You didn’t want a relationship with him.

It wasn’t like you’d been crushing on him for a while.

“I did want to explain why I am so protective of you though. We’ve been friends for three years. I think you deserve to know at this point.”

“Taehyung…  what?” You were conflicted at what he said, wanting an answer for his strange actions but also nervous for how this might change your relationship.

Before Taehyung continued, you led him to your living room, him taking a seat in a large chair that practically swallowed him whole as he brought his knees to his chest, and you taking a seat on a matching chair, leaning forwards in your seat. 

He stilled as he spared you a quick glance and took a shaky breath in, “You know how humans and supernatural beings live together? Like… not a lot is shared and most talk about it is on the downlow?”

“Are you a supernatural being?” 

He nodded slowly, not meeting your eyes, “I am a vampire… but not like a sparkly one or something!”

You snorted at that comment, “Taehyung, I have seen you in the sunlight. I know you don’t sparkle… I know some about vampires… but not a ton. Does it hurt to go into the sun? Clearly you don’t burst into flames but I thought it burnt.” 

“Well… it irritates and we can get really bad sun burns…” Taehyung shifts uncomfortably, “We do some stuff to help mitigate it. Like the more skin we cover up, the less contact we will have with the sun.”

“Oh! Do you all have rings blessed by witches to help you venture into the sun?” 

“No? Where did you hear that?” Taehyung laughs and shakes his head.

“A show?”

At that, more tension seemed to leave him as he laughed more and shook his head, “Nah. I mean… There is some jewelry that can help… but not really because a spell is on them.”

“Ok… so why does this relate to me going out with Taehyung? Wh-” And then it clicked.

“Is Jungkook a vampire? Wait… is Seokjin a vampire? Is that why you didn’t want us to be friends? But if he is… then what made you change your mind? Why are we even friends if you are suspicious about… wait… even if Jungkook and Seokjin are vampires, why didn’t you want us to be friends or date?”

A blush rose on Taehyung’s face as you kept stammering, “I am honestly surprised that you didn’t realize we were vampires earlier… especially after Seokjin-hyung and I’s bruises healed so quickly after our fight.”

“I mean… I’ve honestly had suspicions that you three were some sort of supernatural beings.”

“Really?”

“You all have weak stomachs. I rarely see you drink anything other than some nondescript red drink. You all work night shifts mostly.”

Taehyung laughed awkwardly, “I should talk to them about varying up their habits… I hope no one else has found out.”

“Are the three of you in the same coven?”

“Yeah”

You nodded slowly.

“So you’re… you’re not upset that we kept it from you?”

“I was more upset that you even fucking faught Seokjin! He’s part of your coven and your friend.” 

“Yeah… I was…” Taehyung coughed and blushed more, “I fought him because I was worried. Seokjin doesn’t always have the best track record with humans. I mean… that was a while ago but still.” 

Your brows furrowed some, visions of what Seokjin could have possibly done quickly playing through your mind like a movie going x5 the speed.

Older supernatural beings often didn’t have the best track record. You’d most definitely killed some beings in your time… but now you were tentatively curious and anxious about what he might have done.

You’d ask Seokjin later. 

“Well… I was avoiding you after that so I didn’t really pay much attention to how fast your injuries healed. I was just glad that they healed.” You said, choosing to gloss over his comment on Seokjin. 

He laughed, “Yeah. I figured. But… our fight… it was about you.” He coughed again, “I was worried about what he wanted with you. I don’t really remember how it became a fist fight… but he was teasing me about… stuff and then it devolved… but we’re good now. We have fights every once in a while. He is part of my coven and we’re bound to have some… conflict with how long we’ve been around.”

“What did he tease you about… if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Oh… Uh. Nothing really.” Taehyung was practically as red as a tomato now. 

You knew he was covering for something but you didn’t have it in you to probe more on that topic at the moment. 

“So you were apprehensive about Seokjin because he has, in the past, not been the best with humans… why are you so worried about Jungkook then? He seems like a nice guy to me. Didn’t give me any creepy vibes… although Seokjin didn’t.”

“Uh… well he is also in my coven.” Taehyung finished softly, eyeing you shyly once again.

You eyed him from where you were now sitting in your kitchen, waiting for him to continue. 

Yet Taehyung didn’t continue. 

He just continued to shyly glance at you before looking away, his face practically radiating heat from how badly he was blushing.

Your heart sped up some.

Being part of his coven should be a good thing, right?

Covens are like family… So why was going on a date with Jungkook so bad?

Why was Taehyung talking about humans so much?

Why was Taehyung blushing so much?

What was it that Seokjin brought up that led to a physical conflict? 

You asked about him having a crush on you. Why did he say he didn’t want to date you instead of him not having a crush on you? Were you just reading too much into it?

“Why is that of importance?” You finally asked when a whole minute passed and Taehyung didn’t continue. 

“Well… uh… I might not have told the whole truth when I arrived?” His voice was soft and cautious as he kept eyeing you cautiously, “I… Uh… I said I didn’t want to go out with you… but uh… I do…”

You couldn’t hear what he said after that though, his voice too soft as he looked away shyly (curse you not being born as a being with sensitive hearing). 

“What? Can you repeat? I didn’t hear the ending.” 

Taehyung coughed and took a deep breath, “I d-do like you… I just… because I am a vampire I won’t die. You… a human will… I… I’ve had a past relationship that happened like that… and I can’t handle that again.”

You took a deep breath, your mind even more confused than before, and grabbed his hand gently, “Taehyung, I am so sorry you had past relationships like that, but… you thought I was human?” 

He nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I… I’m a minor god? Didn’t I tell you that I spoke for the trees once?” 

“What?”

“I am a minor god… I rule over the forests of this region… I’ve been around for at least a century… Probably more but I didn’t keep track of time until I left the woods.”

His eyes were wide as he stared at you, slowly blinking.

You nodded slowly, “Here I thought that all the talk in my manuscripts about the woods made it obvious that I was in some way connected to them.” 

A slow blink.

“Or what about the time that we literally were in a park and I told you to stop climbing the trees because they were weak.”

Another slow blink.

“All my plants?”

“I literally just thought you were a plant loving person. I’ve met more of those types of people. Hell, Namjoon hyung, another person in my coven, is obsessed with plants.” 

This time it was your turn to slowly blink.

“What about the trips I do to shrines? The gifts delivered to my house?”

“I just assumed you were spiritual and popular with readers.”

“Either way… your worry about me dying? Not likely. It’s possible like it’s possible for you to die… but not really something that is likely to happen.”

Taehyung simply looked at you wide eyed, his jaw slack and shoulders sagging. A small laugh left you at his expression as you gently patted his hand, “So… you have a crush on me?” 

“Bu-I” Taehyung shook his head slowly, not looking you in the eyes, “Yes? But you are dating Jungkook now so I guess I missed my chance?” 

At that you took a deep breath in, “I mean… if I am honest… I had fun with Jungkook but I really only accepted a date because I was trying to get over a crush I have on this really cute vampire… I had suspected him to be one for a tad but didn’t bring it up because I really didn’t think he liked me back.”

“Do you like Seokjin?” Taehyung interjected, his eyes wide as he gripped your hands tightly, “He said that he’d make you like him! He literally kept flirting with you and trying to make passes until I confronted him! Damn it!”

“Taehyung. I don’t like Seokjin-- although I did suspect him to be a vampire too. I like you. And while I had fun with Jungkook, I felt no romantic feelings for him on the date.”

“I- really?”

You nodded.

“And the chances of you passing are low?”

You nodded.

A heavy sigh left Taehyung and it was like he was deflating, “Thank fuck.” 

You pulled him into a tight hug, laughing lightly at his comment, “So… with all that out in the air… Would you like to go on a date with me later today, Taehyung?”

“I might appreciate you telling Jungkook that there will be no future dates first… but yes.”

“Thank fuck. I think that’s something I can do easily.”

[likeawildthing]

Not to be morbid on main, but everyone dies and people are rarely prepared for it. It’s so much easier when you know your loved one’s wishes. So even if you’re a teenager or twenty-three and healthy, I hope this helps you start thinking about end-of-life wishes, because it can happen to us all (both the dying and, rudely, being died upon).

Cremations are an affordable way to subvert the funeral industry, but going this route puts the burden of “the little things” on the family. I’ve learned a lot in the last 36 hours and wanted to pass those things that weren’t on any checklists, because the burden is on you to navigate the process.

Putting this under a cut because it’s so long (although not comprehensive). Obviously some of this is altered because COVID and some is meant to be applicable in some distant, theoretical future when we can go out to lunch again.

Before you die

Think about it, talk about it, write it down

Think about what kind of rememberance you want, if any. If it doesn’t matter, tell people that so they don’t fret about it and grieve in whatever way works best for them.

Communicate now to save your family and friends angst later.

Build an “in case of death” binder, zip drive, google doc with links, etc. Make sure your passwords are up to date so that’s not an administrative nightmare for your loved ones.

Advanced directives. Here’s a great article explaining the types of medical advanced directives and decisions to make before an accident or illness happens, including whether you want to donate your organs.

We lost grandma for about twenty minutes yesteday because we couldn’t find the paperwork and grandpa couldn’t remember where they signed up for services. Death. Binder. Have a death binder/folder/zip drive so no one loses grandma.

Insurance. 

You likely have insurance through work, so consider that. It will also expire if you leave your job.

You can usually get, with minimal fuss, a 10- or 20-year term policy with enough to cover your arrangements and debts for less than $20 a month. Death expenses are anywhere from $5-$20k, conservatively. 

Talk to your auto insurance agent and score a multi-line discount.

Body snatchers. 

If you want to be cremated, talk to a local crematory beforehand and give them your basic information. It can be paid out of your estate (i.e. by your family or a life insurance policy) when it happens. 

Most funeral homes (I believe) require pre-payment. It’s super morbid but there are TONS of heavily discounted grave sites for sale on Craigslist if that’s the route you want to go. 

Here’s a list of certified green burial sites in the US.

Donating your body to science 101.

Memorial service. 

The idea of a “proper” funeral is more or less out the window, especially in the time of COVID. Celebration of life? Religious ceremony (or not)? A picnic at your favorite park? Anything goes, so figure it out now. 

When my sister-in-law died, we had a celebration of life at a non-profit who donated the space and had a poker tournament with her ash tin (she lost). 

Whether you have strong or no preferences, write that down to guide decision-making. 

Memorials. 

Traditionally people would donate money in the event of a death to a charity, foundation, or family account, or flowers to a funeral home or church.

 Family accounts (like for children) are traditionally done in care of the deceased’s bank but online fundraisers are a thing. 

If you have a particular charity you love, add this to your list of wishes.

Food. 

Before COVID it was pretty typical for there to be some kind of meal after a funeral. Will this be a restaurant? 

This is ultimately up to the family but if you have strong preferences (i.e. no church or Italian food), tell people now.

Obituary. 

Writing down the basic facts of your life, hobbies, and accomplishments you want included in your obituary means your family doesn’t have to do a guessing game. 

Plants, animals, stuff, etc.

Do you want your clothes to go to a specific charity? 

Do you NOT want your stuff to go to a specific charity? (Goodwill is terrible!)

Who will get your car (person, donate, sell)? Want to have your record collection to go one sister? Obviously family will divvy up stuff how they like, but write down any special considerations.

Have a plan for your pets (insurance, vet info, guardianship).

Please organize and digitize your photos if they aren’t already.

If you lose someone close:

Identify the primary griever

Support that person/those people by providing feedback when solicited, running errands as needed, and running interference so they aren’t inundated with all the little things.

Notifying people

Use the phone tree method. Great Aunt M will be happy to help by calling your cousins. Your boss, coworkers and HR. Your mom’s best friend/your adoptive aunt, your mom’s bunco group. 

Ask that family not put anything on social media until the principal people are informed. I found out my grandpa died on facebook!

Esp these days, set boundaries for visits (who, where, and in what capacity).

Designate one person to be the primary contact for extended family to keep the burden off the primary griever(s). 

Give this persons’ information when the first phone calls are made. It also makes sense for this person to be the travel coordinator. 

This person should have a good handle on family dynamics (i.e. my aunt is flying in and would drive my grandma nuts so she’s staying with Mom). 

This should be their only task because it’s time consuming.

Food

When people die, people gather, even in the time of COVID. Be responsible but expect a ton of drop by food. Clean out the primary griever’s fridge in anticipaton.

Organization

Start a shared family Google doc or sheet. Consolidate to do lists, anecdotes, important contact information, questions and inquiries, etc. 

Pay to have the houses of anyone hosting (gatherings, people coming in from out of town, etc.) cleaned. Or, delegate. This can be an act of service for someone who wants to help and doesn’t mind doing the work. 

Find the death binder (hopefully), legal documentation, etc. Get a folder or binder for papers if one doesn’t exist. And start a shared google doc for loved ones to track everything.

Delegate

I know I have said this three times, but it’s important. If you’re a primary decision maker do not be the primary do-er. My mom is the primary decision maker so my sisters and I are doing literally everything else. 

Say YES when people ask if they can help you. Look at your running list of to-dos and say yes.

Pay to have the houses of people who are hosting cleaned. It will seriously be such a life saver, or this can be an act of service for someone who wants to help.

Social media

You will need to decide what to do with a person’s social media. Do you start a tribute page? Turn their facebook (if they’re old) into a tribute page for a time? Indefinitely? Things to think about. 

Thank yous

Keep a running list of people to thank after via hand-written thank you notes. The link includes guidelines on 

who should receive a thank you note (gave flowers, brought food, made donations, helped with arrangements or the service(s), did readings, or went well out of their way to warm your heart or show up)

when to send them (ideally 2-3 weeks after the funeral)

here’s how to write them (it doesn’t matter if you buy fancy, ones or dollar store ones, make sure they’re hand written).

Receipts. 

Don’t be the petty biatch your cousins hate, but do save significant receipts to be reimbursed by the estate. (I.e. catering hundreds of dollars of food, paying $250 for programs and thank-you cards like I just did, etc.)

Service.

You will have a million decisions to make including

what kind of service to hold, if any

where to hold it

costs

hymns, readings, and anecdotes to share

who will be pall bearers, readers, vocalists, and give eulogies

Crematories handle cremation only, not the service details. 

you will need photo boards (Hobby Lobby has nice black foamcore ones) or a powerpoint (and a way to display it depending on the venue)

a guest or memorial book

a card basket,

memorial cards, possibly programs, and thank you cards 

Officiants, musicians, religious institutions, etc. all need to be paid (and tipped) for their time.

If we ever wrangle this pandemic, donating funeral flowers to a nursing homes is a fantastic way to brighten residents’ days. 

Obituary.

Obituaries are expected, but traditionally costly ($200-$800). As part of the publishing fee, most newspapers keep the obituary on legacy.com indefinitely.

A funeral home will assist you with this, but the burden will be on you and your loved ones if using other methods. 

These take hours to write and many hands does not make light work. Keep it to 2-4 key people. Having the facts laid out will help, and so will looking at other obituaries. I read a great tip which was to write about your loved one in present tense first, then change the tense before submission. 

Newspapers will update your spelling and grammar but that’s about it. Cheaper alternatives: 

Death notice which gives age, date and location of death, and who is handling funeral arrangements. Our crematory put in the death notice for us because they had her body, but the requirements on this likely vary state-to-state. 

Here is a place to put a free online obituary.

Plants, animals, stuff, etc. 

Save the plants and pets. 

Household misc. are usually not dictated by the will, except in special circumstances or contested items. Closest members will go through possessions first. Voice early if you want something in particular, but understand that you may not get it. That’s ok. 

Going through someone’s life is an overwhelming process. You may be repulsed and sad and overwhelmed and amused, all at the same time.  

In deciding what to keep, as I’ve now cleared out three houses, I’ve found that quality over quantity is the way to go. The sweet spot? 1-2 sentimental + useful things. My great grandmother’s thimble and juicer? Use them all the time, and I remember her lemonade. 

It’s okay to throw away some keepsakes and let things get thrown out or donated, depending on the thing. 

Don’t give into guilt if you don’t want the china your Aunt Karen is pressuring you into taking when she doesn’t want it either.

Legal stuff. 

If someone dies, there will be all kinds of legal things you will need to do (bank accounts, utilities, debtors, education, etc.), investments or 401k, etc. 

This varies too much by state and circumstance to talk about in depth but there are guides to specifically help you.

If someone you love has lost someone they love

Do not give platitudes or ask if they’re ok

Don’t expect a response from someone grieving

Do send a card! It’s so thoughtful. I keep a stack of blank condolence cards and a set of forever stamps in my closet. It doesn’t have to be a $20 card to be special.

Don’t judge someone by how they grieve

Offer specific, actionable help if you’re close enough to give it

I am going to come over and clean at 10, leave the house unlocked

I’m at the store and am going to buy cheap vodka unless you tell me what kind of wine you want

oops I got you an uber eats gift card in your gmail sorry/not sorry

Buy thank you cards with stamps as a condolence gift, depending on the person and situation

Send a plant instead of a bouquet of flowers

Make a donation in the loved one’s name if you have the funds

If the grieving person is someone super close (best friend, sister, etc.) add the date in your recurring calender so you can check up on them this day next year with a card and/or phone call

[writtingsparxx]

...And Cold

Title: ...And Cold Rating: G. I don’t think I even swore in this Pairing: Reader/Sigma. Gender neutral, no pronouns used Notes: Oh geez. I lived bitch. Thank you so much to @talkingshitpost for the prompt that started this all

Also now posted on AO3

You knew that winter was the best time for stargazing. You had heard it in every planetarium demonstration, every astronomy club meeting, every naked-eye observation lecture. Winter in the Northern Hemisphere usually meant the clearest skies, the longest nights, and the brightest stars. But, even though you were tired of hearing the same information over and over again, when Siebren de Kuiper started talking about it, you didn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, whenever the scientist started to go on about different stuff in the universe your interest only grew. And one thing in particular that the astronomer had been rambling on for the past couple of weeks was the Ursids meteor shower that was going to be at its peak soon. 

It was one of the largest and most visible meteor showers that was visible in the Northern Hemisphere at this time of the year. The only problem that was it was also freezing during this time of the year. The thought of getting to spend the entire night just watching the stars and the meteor shower was ideal, but you really didn't want to turn into an icicle either. Still, after some planning you had everything set up and ready to go. Now, it was just getting permission from Siebren to not come into the lab the next day, because you knew that you were going to be exhausted. 

"Siebren?" you asked softly as you entered his office at the end of the day. The astronomer was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands as he stared down at the papers in front of him. The last couple of weeks had been difficult. All the research that Siebren and the team had been putting in wasn't showing results as fast as some of the higher members of Talon's administration wanted, and so they were threatening him. And it wasn't just with physical harm, it was also the idea of cutting off funding, and more importantly, cutting off the medical help that was keeping Siebren as stable as possible. It was terrifying to think about, especially the threat of taking away the thing that had helped Siebren so much over the last few months. 

"Hmm? Oh, yes, sorry.... I didn't see you there," Siebren said, sitting up slightly in his chair. When he looked up at you, you couldn't help but notice how hollow his eyes looked, and how tired it seemed that he was. It couldn't be easy having to answer to people like Reaper and Doomfist, but with the added pressure of everything else, you couldn't imagine the stress that Siebren was under. 

"That's okay... I just came in," you said with a smile, reaching up to move a piece of hair out of your face. "I um... I actually came in to ask you a question..." you started, biting your bottom lip, not sure how to approach whas was essentially asking your boss out on a date. "Well, as you probably know, tonight is going to be the peak of the Ursids meteor shower, and I was just... I was wondering if you wanted to watch it with me tonight?" you asked quickly. 

You could almost hear Siebren thinking. It was obvious that he wasn't expecting for you to ask him to watch the meteor shower with you. "I... I forgot that it was today..." Siebren said quietly, his voice trailing off as he looked up over your shoulder. The last few weeks Siebren had been losing track of time easily, and you were beginning to wonder if it was a side-effect of the accident that he had. "I hadn't planned on seeing it, but... I could catch some of it with you. For research of course," Siebren said with a small smile. 

You laughed slightly, loving that he had to find some kind of justification to actually enjoy something for himself for a change. "Of course... For research," you teased with a smile. "I'm hoping to set up a little make-shift camp out near the training field. Hopefully we won't freeze to death while waiting for it," you joke with a smile. "I um... I'm going to go change and get ready. I'll see you about 6?" you asked. 

"Oh yes, understood," Siebren said with a small smile. 

You smiled brightly, turning a slight shade of pink before rushing out of the office. Even after all this time with Siebren, you still felt nervous talking to him. You wondered if there would ever be a time where even thinking about Siebren wouldn't make you blush like you had a crush on him. Still, you were happy that Siebren agreed, and you couldn't wait until later that night in order to spend some quality time with him without having to worry about anything else. At least for a couple of hours. 

When you got back to your room, you immediately started to get ready for the evening. You had managed to "borrow" several blankets from the laundry and was making sure you had enough to not only put on the ground as a protective barrier, but also to hopefully bundle up in when you got too cold. You had also set out almost every piece of winter clothing that you had. Hopefully, with enough layers you wouldn't turn into a human icicle in just a few moments. So, after piling on your long johns, thermal tights, thermal shirt, a pair of long pants, a pair of jeans, a long sleeved shirt, a t-shirt, a hoodie, your winter jacket, your heavy boot socks, boots, gloves, a scarf and your hat, you figured that it would enough to keep you warm. Making sure that you had your communicator in case of any emergencies, you grabbed your pile of blankets and headed to the training grounds. 

Just as you suspected, there was no one out on the training field at this time of the night. You suspected with the snow and ice no one would be out here at any time during the day. Still, it was nice to know that you and Siebren probably wouldn’t be disturbed. Trudging through the snow to the middle of the field, you started to set up your pile of blankets into as comfortable as a bed that you could. You sat down, smiling as you laid back, looking up at the sky. 

There weren’t words to describe how beautiful it was out here. Being far enough away from base and the rest of the world meant that you could see the stars from one point on the horizon to the other. At your zenith the Milky Way cut across the sky with its subtle orange, purples, and blues. It was absolutely mesmerizing just laying there and watching the sky as it slowly started to change. 

After what could have been ten minutes or an hour, you could hear crunching of footsteps in the snow. Sitting up, you turned quickly, seeing a large figure walking toward you. It was too dark to really tell who it was that was approaching, but you had a feeling that there was only one person who would be coming out towards the training field at this time of night. Your suspicion was answered fairly quickly as you heard Siebren’s voice call out your name. 

“I’m here,” you said, grabbing your communicator and turning on the flashlight. With the sudden light, you saw Siebren approaching you, two thermos cups in hand. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit when you saw him. He was wearing only a pair of dark pants, a long shirt, a winter jacket, a scarf and a hat. 

“I… I brought us something to drink. Coffee to help keep us awake and then some hot chocolate just to make us warmer,” Siebren said, approaching and sitting down next to you on the blankets. 

“Thank you. I’m sure that I’m going to need it. I’m already freezing,” you joked, reaching out to take one of the warm thermos, just holding it in your hand. You looked over Siebren’s outfit and laughed slightly. “How are you not freezing in just that?” you asked.

“This weather… It reminds me of being up there, at Horizon. It was always so cold. No matter how much they tried to pump the place with heat… I could never get my feet to warm up,” Siebren said, looking down at his shoes. “Whenever it gets cold, I’m reminded of things that happened there. The memories are… hazy, but there,” Siebren said softly before turning back to you. 

You smiled softly, keeping quiet for a moment. After the accident Siebren had difficulty remembering things. The medics who worked for Talon said it had something to do with him repressing the trauma of the event, but you figured that it also had to do with some treatment that the Talon agents had put him through. After all, you couldn’t have an ideal weapon when the weapon could remember all of the good that he did in the world. After a moment you looked back up at Siebren. “Thank you, for bringing the drinks. I’m sure that I’m going to need it. I’m a baby when it comes to the cold,” you explained, taking a small sip of the drink in your hand. 

“I can tell,” Siebren joked, looking over your outfit. You blushed slightly, taking another sip of your drink.

You let the conversation die, just turning your attention to the sky once more. It was quiet out here. You didn’t have to think about what was going on in the lab, or whether or not someone was going to come into your room to ask you a question. Here, in this moment you had no responsibilities, no pressing matters that had to be dealt with immediately. It was just the sky, yourself, and Siebren.

After a while, as you started to relax more, you began to feel like your whole body was heavy, and it seemed like it was taking forever for you to blink. A combination of the cold weather, the peace and quiet, and knowing that you didn’t have any responsibilities until at least tomorrow afternoon meant that you were at your most relaxed in weeks. All you wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep right then and there. Surely you’d wake up in time for the meteor shower…

As you started to get more and more tired, at one point you fell forward a little, only to be jolted awake by the feeling of a strong arm across the front of your body. You blinked your eyes open, looking up at the source of the arm. Siebren was looking down at you with slight concern, his arm across your chest and keeping you propped up. “Are you okay, mijn beste?” he asked, helping you sit up straight again. 

You blushed slightly, nodding vigorously a few times. “I’m fine, just a little tired,” you explained. You adjusted slightly, allowing yourself to sit up completely. Maybe if you sat with correct posture you’d be able to stay awake. 

“If you’d like, I could let you sleep. I can wake you when the meteor shower starts,” Siebren offered. 

“Oh! No, thank you! I… I would feel bad. I invited you out here and I don’t want to fall asleep before anything even happens!” you said quickly, going to set the how drink down and turning back to Siebren. 

“It would be no trouble. I-I don’t mind,” Siebren said with a smile. 

You blushed again, hugging your arms around you and running your hands up and down your arms, trying to warm up slightly. You couldn’t believe how nice and thoughtful Siebren was. He had been so kind and thoughtful all evening. First with the warm drinks and now offering to let you sleep. You appreciated everything that he had done and offered you so far. “I would appreciate it, Siebren,” you said softly, looking up at him again. 

Siebren just nodded in response. You started to get ready to lay down, startled by Siebren suddenly getting up. You sat back up, wondering if something was wrong. “Everything okay?” you asked, puzzled. You couldn’t see anything that would warrant this kind of reaction, and even if there was a danger you didn’t have anything on you to protect yourself. 

“Oh, I just… I was going to give you some space,” Siebren explained, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You laughed a little, shaking your head. “You can’t just stand there for possibly hours, come sit back down,” you said. 

Siebren seemed a little shy about it, hesitating before he went to sit back down. He sat down next to you, looking over for a second before looking away. You couldn’t tell that great in the dark, but you swore that he was blushing. “If… If you want, you can lean against me. It might be warmer, and more comfortable than the ground,” Siebren mumbled quietly. 

The sudden offer made your skin feel like it was on fire. You looked away, trying to focus on anything but the scientist sitting next to you. Finally, you looked back at him, nodding slightly. “I would like that,” you stammered out. You awkwardly moved over to Siebren, sitting at his side. You put your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. A moment later, you felt Siebren wrapping you up in a blanket, making sure that you weren’t too cold still.

You didn’t know how you were going to get any sleep now. Your heart was racing and it felt like your skin was still on fire. Siebren was warmer than you expected and you were finally comfortable after freezing all night. He smelt amazing, too. You didn’t know what he used, but it definitely wasn’t the soap that they sold at the commissary. You sighed again softly, just letting everything else wash away. “Can you just talk about anything? Horizon, fun facts that you have about the meteor shower. Anything, Siebren. I like hearing you talk about space,” you said quietly, settling and moving in closer to Siebren. 

It took a moment before Siebren settled on a topic that he wanted to talk about. It had something to do with the discovery of Dark Matter and how it was probably the most important discovery that humans had ever made regarding astronomy and astrophysics, and how it had changed the way that we studied basically everything. It was hard to keep up with his train of thought as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep, or how long Siebren had kept talking about Dark Matter. The next thing that you knew you were being woken up by the scientist. You were laying back against the ground, looking up at Siebren. “Mijn beste, wake up… It’s starting,” you heard him say. As your eyes started to focus you caught sight of Siebren, a meteor streaking by in the night sky behind him. 

[hstyleshoney]

flawed - h.s

AU she has a new roommate and he’s not the worst 

Wordcount: 13K // slow-burn fluff with a small hint of angst and mutual-ish pining I suppose, strong language, alcohol use, sexual content

AN: This is my little College/Uni AU piece for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration writing fest! And I got carried away. I’ve had the start of this in my drafts for like two years and this challenge kind of just got me motivated to finish it. I’m really happy with some parts of it and some I’m not so sure about...I hate endings... BUT I had really fun writing it and that is all that matters and hopefully someone will enjoy it. I’m just happy I managed to finish it after such a long time. I’d also really really appreciate some feedback on it so please share your thoughts! I don’t have too much experience writing like this so be nice pls haha. ENJOY! <3 

“Harry, you left your dirty dishes by the sink...  AGAIN!  Dunno how many times I have to remind you to clean up after yourself Put it away. Thx. :)”

Y/N took a deep breath to calm herself down and re-read the pink post-it note infront of her. He was going to be the death of her. He really was. Harry was in every other way the perfect roommate, well perfect was perhaps a bit excessive but he wasn’t the worst, except for the fact that he never took care of his stupid dirty dishes. It drove her mad. It took all her willpower to not smash his stupid little kermit the frog teacup into tiny little pieces whenever she saw it.

And yes, maybe it was irrational of her to get so worked up over a few dirty cups when everything else was going so well. But Y/N liked it when things were in order.

In the past two months that she had lived with Harry she had lost count of how many times she had asked him to wash up his used pans, plates and cups. The first time it happened she didn’t really mind. The second time -- also fine. But the third? That was when she started to get a little bit bothered. Because not only was it his dirty dishes from the same day. No. The plate and cup from the day before were still there on the counter as well. That was the first time she asked him to clean up after himself.

It was still fine though.

Y/N just told herself it was because Harry had previously lived in a student accommodation with a bunch of unruly boys and wasn’t used to picking up after himself. It was fine. He’d soon get it.

Only, he didn’t seem to get it.

Because weeks later she still had to remind him to wash up after he was done in the kitchen. It was like what she said to him went in one ear and out the other. It took her another week before she started suspecting he was leaving it out on purpose to irritate her, which well, it worked. It only annoyed her further.

The amount of tea that boy drank was truly worrying. She had been told she drank a lot of tea, but she seemed to have met her match in Harry. At least judging by all the cups he left around the flat. They were everywhere. Literally. She had even found one under the bathroom sink just a couple days ago and she didn’t even bother asking him how it got there. She had simply just left him a post-it note asking him to put it away.

Because she was certainly not going to go around and pick up after him. He was a grown boy and therefore capable of cleaning up after himself. She wasn’t his mother.

It was basic housekeeping.

She ripped the little pink post-it note off the pad and stuck it up on Harry’s bedroom door so he couldn’t possibly miss it. She stared at it for another minute, pleased with herself, before getting her backpack and left to go to her lecture. It was her own way of telling him off; leaving post-it notes for him. A more passive-aggressive approach had always been her preferred strategy, it made her feel slightly less annoying, and anytime she had left him a note in the morning the dirty dishes had magically disappeared when she came home later.

So there was no reason for her to stop leaving them for him.

--

Apart from that Harry really was the best roommate she could’ve asked for. The best one in the short amount of time she had had to find a new one anyways. Lexi, her very good friend from home and roommate before Harry, had decided to drop out of uni a week before courses were due to start again after summer; leaving her alone with a flat she couldn’t afford on her own. Y/N couldn’t be mad at her though because she knew how unhappy Lexi was in Manchester. She wasn’t enjoying her course and she missed her family. Y/N couldn’t force Lexi to stay just because she didn’t want to find a new roommate. She wasn’t that selfish.

It just wasn’t ideal. Everyone she knew already had a place to live and she was feeling pretty defeated about the whole thing. She liked her flat and didn’t want to give it up. Her parents offered to help her pay rent until she could find someone to live with again but she didn’t want to take her parents money. It didn’t feel right. So when her friend Lucy mentioned that her boyfriend Nate had a friend who needed a place to live she offered the mysterious man Lexi’s old room without a second thought.

Then Harry showed up outside her door two days later with a large suitcase and a couple of moving boxes.

They didn’t really talk all that much their first week of living together. He mostly kept to himself, trying to get settled in and get used to being back at uni after a long summer. All she knew about him at that point was that he was the same age as her and that he was studying music. Something she probably would’ve figured out sooner or later on her own, because every evening she could hear him play his guitar from inside his bedroom. She couldn’t complain though. It was quite soothing actually, and she wanted to tell him that.

But she also didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable knowing she laid awake listening to him play and then stop because he didn’t want her to eavesdrop.

So Y/N never said anything.

Their second week of living together was when she picked up on his annoying habit of leaving the kitchen a mess. It was also that week he offered to make her a cup of tea for the first time and she would never admit it outloud but it was probably the best cup of tea she had ever had.

But since he left his own cups all around the flat she also refused to tell him that.

By the third week they started having dinner together and asked each other about their days. They were slowly getting to know one another and Y/N realised for the first time that she did in fact enjoy Harry’s company. That Sunday they spent the entire evening binge watching the first season of a scandinavian crime drama on netflix and shared a tub of ice cream.  

Then they were suddenly in the same group of friends.

Because with Lexi gone Y/N started hanging out with Lucy more and Lucy was dating Nate and Harry was always hanging out with Nate. Which all just led to Tara, Declan and Connor always being around as well. Their flat had, since Harry moved in, turned into the hotspot for the gang to hang out at. She didn’t mind much, because she liked them and she had never really been a part of a group like them before. It was nice. Lexi moving had in a weird way been a blessing in disguise.

So there really wasn’t anything else to complain about when it came to Harry as a roommate.

Well, maybe one more thing.

And she usually met that reason every Sunday morning in their kitchen after a night out.

That Sunday however took a different turn than what she had gotten used to.

“You told me you didn’t have a girlfriend!”

“Harry,“ Y/N said slowly and narrowed her eyes at him. The girl next to them, whose hair was dyed a rich red color, was only clad in one of Harry’s old band t-shirts and stared at the two of them with frantic eyes.

“Y/N, babe, I’m so sorry,” Harry said and stared at Y/N pleadingly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on!?” The red-haired girl demanded and crossed her arms over her chest and Y/N could’ve sworn she did a little stomp. “You told me last night that you were single!”

“Yes Harry, I’d love an explanation,” Y/N said and mimicked the redhead by crossing  her arms over her chest. She probably would’ve laughed if the situation had been any different because the stranger in the kitchen was glaring at Harry with such a hatred in her eyes and Y/N had never seen a girl look at him that way before. 

And it was still funny, but it would’ve been funnier if she wasn’t a part of it. Harry on the other hand only ignored the angry girl and kept the lie going, focusing on his roommate.

“Love, I’m so fucking sorry. It didn’t mean anything! I swear, I was drunk and-”

“Ugh, oh my god,” the redhead cried out, interrupting him. She was fuming and her face was as red as her hair. Before Y/N had the chance to say anything else, to resolve the situation, the redhead stepped forward and slapped Harry across the face. “You’re such a fucking asshole!”

Then she turned around and Y/N’s first instinct was to take a step back because that was how intimidating she looked with her red wild hair and red cheeks. But Y/N, very unexpectedly, found herself being embraced in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so sorry! I swear I had no idea. He told me he didn’t have a girlfriend. You deserve so much better! Leave him.”

And just like that the girl was gone, marching back to Harry’s room to get changed into her own clothes again, and left the two of them alone in the kitchen. Y/N at loss for words and Harry rubbing the side of his face.

It didn’t take very long before the sound of the front door being slammed shut echoed through the flat and made the walls around them shake.

“You’re disgusting,” Y/N muttered then and walked past him to put the kettle on. She had a headache from all the wine she had consumed the previous night and whatever it was that had just happened hadn’t exactly helped her feel any better. She had only wanted a nice cup of tea, and maybe some toast. She had definitely not been prepared, nor expected, to be part of a terrible made-up triangle drama. Not this early.

“Aw, c’mon,” Harry laughed and finally let his face break out into a grin. “I’ve tried to get her to go home all morning but she wouldn’t take any hints. I had no choice.”

Y/N turned her head to glare at him and pointed a warning finger in his direction

“If you bring a girl back you get rid of her yourself. I want no part in your disgusting shenanigans,” she told him. “You deserved that slap.”

“I didn’t even say anything to her,” Harry said and hopped up to take a seat on the counter. “She just assumed.”

“Why would she even assume that?” Y/N asked and eyed him suspiciously “If I was your girlfriend I wouldn’t randomly appear in the kitchen the next morning in my pyjamas. You must’ve told her something.”

“I didn’t,” Harry denied and put his hands up, still grinning. She rolled her eyes. “I swear! She just assumed.”

“Yeah well, you shouldn’t have let her,” she told him and took out two slices of bread to put in the toaster. “Besides, do you have to bring a girl back every weekend?”

“Do you have to go on like five dates a week?”

“I don’t,” she glared at him again. Harry raised his eyebrows at her knowingly and she looked away from him as the next few words left her lips. “It was only three this week.”

“Oh right,” Harry laughed. “Excuse me.”

“Shut up.”

“At least I’m getting something good out of it,” he continued to laugh. “I still don’t understand why you have to go on so many dates all the time. What do you get out of it?”

“I wanna find love,” she shrugged. “Is that so bad?”

“No, not at all,” Harry told her. “But dating douchebags ain’t gonna bring you love.”

“Yeah because sleeping with someone new every weekend is so much better,” she replied sarcastically and watched as Harry slid down from the counter when the kettle made a small noise to let them know it was ready.

“Like I said,” he started with a smirk and took down two tea cups from the cupboard. “At least I get something good out of it. You should try.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t say anything else as her toast popped up from the toaster. Her dating life was a running joke among her friends and she had learned to ignore the comments they made. She wanted to find love, so she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it. Some may say she was a bit desperate, and maybe she was, but it wasn’t her fault every guy she met was wrong for her. They were all either too clingy or too uncommitted.

Or maybe she was just a bit too picky.

Either way, she did go on a lot of dates when her schedule allowed her to. She wanted what everyone else around her seemed to have. Her parents acted more in love with each other every time she saw them, even after 30 years of marriage. One of her sisters had just gotten engaged to her long-term boyfriend and her oldest sister had been married for three years already and was expecting her second child. Her younger cousin got married that summer. Any time Y/N traveled back home all her relatives asked her when she was going to find herself a nice young man. It was exhausting. Y/N was stressed. Pressured. So she dated a lot. There was nothing wrong with that, yet people liked to mock her for it, especially Harry since he was the one who she came back home to after a bad date.

He’d usually burst into her room after a date, wanting all the details only so he could laugh about everything that had gone wrong. But then he also always made her a cup of tea and got her some biscuits.

He wasn’t the worst.

“Hey,” Harry said and held out the tea he had made for her. “You wanna watch an episode of The Bridge?”

Y/N stared at him for a second and for the first time ever her heart skipped a beat. It was no secret that Harry was unbelievably attractive, the kind of attractiveness that terrified you before you got to know him. If he hadn’t showed up outside her door she never would’ve had the guts to talk to him. After getting to know him though he was just Harry; her roommate.

But there was something about him right there and then, dressed casually in sweats and a plain t-shirt as he handed her a cup of tea in their kitchen, that just got to her. She quickly snapped herself out of her thoughts to stop her mind from wandering too far and took the tea from him. Must be the hangover.

“Sure, but only one episode,” she replied and picked up her plate of toast as well. “I have to read some shit for my seminar tomorrow and I can’t keep procrastinating.”

--

They ended up watching more than just one episode.

And Y/N never got around to reading the chapter she needed to read. She only skimmed through it on her way to her seminar, which is why she made a fool out of herself when the lecturer pointed straight at her and asked her to share her thoughts. She wanted to disappear.

And her day didn’t get any better when she stepped in dog shit on her way home.

And it certainly didn’t get any better when she accidentally knocked over her cup of tea and spilled it all over the rug. So instead of getting to lie on the couch and feel sorry for herself, like she had planned, she had to try and save the white rug from getting a stain. It wasn’t a great day.

It was also at that moment Harry came back home; when she was sitting on the floor, scrubbing the rug furiously and muttering profanities under her breath.

“You know,” Harry began to make his presence known. “There’s something about what you're doing right now that’s really turning me on.”  

Y/N stopped her scrubbing and looked up at him, not impressed by his joke or by the stupid smirk on his face.

“Oh fuck off,” she swore and simply raised her hand and her middle finger at him. “Or make yourself useful and get some baking soda or something.”

“Bad day?” he asked while putting his guitar case down. She only glared at him.

“What do you think?”

“I’ll just get the baking soda.”

“Good choice.”

They cleaned the rug together and after a good half an hour of scrubbing and googling the best tricks to remove tea stains they managed to save it from getting ruined. Y/N slumped down on the couch again, exhausted and defeated, and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down.

What a shit day.

Harry made her a new cup and put away everything they had used to get rid of the spilled one before joining her on the small couch.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked and squeezed his brows together, uncertain how to approach her.  

“I just had a shit day,” she sighed deeply. “Completely fucked up my seminar.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Ha!” Y/N scoffed. “No, I did. But it was my own fault though, so I can't really cry about it.”

“Well,” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Can I do anything to make you feel better? We could get some pizza and watch a movie or something?”

“I can’t,” she grumbled. “I have an assignment I have to finish by Wednesday and considering how shit I did today I have to focus. I can’t fuck this up too.”

“You have to eat something though.”

“Yeah, I will. I’ll just heat up some of that leftover pasta later or something,” she assured him and maybe if she hadn’t been so frustrated with herself she wouldn’t have confused the way her heart was racing inside her chest with stress; when in reality it was beating extra for the green eyed boy next to her.

Y/N stayed in her room for the rest of the afternoon into the evening, reading and typing away. She wouldn’t say it was going well, but she didn't want to throw her computer out the window and she always appreciated those rare moments.

She could also hear Harry roaming around in the rest of the flat and later on the low strum of his guitar. She smiled to herself when she heard it and didn’t even realise she was humming along to the melody he was playing until he stopped.

And it wasn’t until her stomach growled loudly that she remembered she hadn’t actually had any dinner yet. She made sure to save her work, hitting ‘save’ an extra time because you could never save a document too many times, before closing her laptop and standing up. Her muscles ached from how long she had been in the same position and she winced a little as she stretched them out.

Then her stomach rumbled and she was once again reminded of how hungry she was. It was nearing 11 pm and she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was not good, and she kind of regretted not accepting Harry’s offer about getting pizza before.

But when she made it into the kitchen there was a pink post-it note on the fridge, only this time she wasn’t the one who put it there.

I got some pizza earlier, saved you a few slices in case you want some instead of that old pasta xx H :)

A warm feeling spread through her body as she read his little note, and she couldn’t help but notice that Harry had a surprisingly neat handwriting. It was cute. Both the handwriting and the message. It put a smile on her face.

While the pizza was being reheated she decided to go find Harry and thank him for the nice gesture. She was just about to knock on his door when she noticed that the TV was still on and she spotted him on the couch.

Asleep.

And it was probably cuter than both his handwriting and the message combined.

His whole body took up the small couch; his legs dangled over the armrest and he had his arms crossed over his chest to make himself smaller. There was a slight frown on his face, presumably from the dream he was having, but it was endearing in a way to still see him so relaxed. He had changed out of the blue jeans he had worn last time she saw him and had on his black shorts and the knitted jumper he always just wore around the flat. He looked comfortable. Homely.

A part of her wanted to run back to her room and get her phone so she could snap a picture of him before he woke up.

But an even bigger part of her stopped her from doing so because it felt inappropriate to take a picture of him sleeping. She wasn’t so sure Harry would appreciate her taking pictures of him without him knowing either. So she refrained.

Then, almost like he could feel her watching him sleep like a total creep, he slowly blinked his eyes open, and honestly... it was probably the cutest thing yet. She blushed as he caught her staring.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice low and rough, and rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them. “What time is it?”

“Mm it’s about 11.”

“Shit, didn’t realise I fell asleep,” he grumbled and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Did you finish your assignment?”

“Almost,” she told him and smiled softly. “Thanks for the pizza.”

“No worries,” he said and matched her smile.

“Also, I’m sorry for being so cranky before. I was just a bit stressed.”

Harry shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “We’ve all been there.”

Y/N ended up joining him on the couch for a bit after the pizza was done. They didn’t talk much while she ate and Harry flicked through the channels on the TV, before he eventually decided on an old romcom. 

When Harry had first shown up outside the flat she had been nervous about living with him. She had only ever lived with girls before, but it had been easier to get along with him than she had first expected. Not that she had heard anything bad about him; Lucy had nothing but nice things to say when she first told her about Nate’s friend who needed a place to live.

She had just assumed it was going to be harder to live with a boy compared to a girl. But Harry made it easy, aside from the dirty dishes and the unknown women in her kitchen Sunday mornings of course, and he was slowly becoming one of her closest friends. While it was terrifying it also felt like the most natural thing. Like he was meant to be in her life.

Which is why she felt so stupid for what happened next.

“They make love seem so easy in these romcoms,” Y/N complained with a huff. “Why don’t I have a gorgeous guy pining after me? I just want someone to have a secret crush on me and then make a big grand gesture. Is that too much to ask?”

“How do you know you don’t?” Harry questioned and she snorted.

“I highly doubt it. Who would that be?”

Harry shrugged.

“Who knows,” he said. “It’s kinda the point of having someone secretly crushing on you, innit?”

“Oh whatever,” she grumbled and Harry laughed. “You have no say in this. I see the way girls stare at you whenever we go out. You probably have a handful of secret admirers. ”

“Are you forgetting the fact that you go on more dates than the rest of us combined?” Harry pointed out and raised his brows at her. “You probably have more admirers than anyone else I know.”

“Not true.”

“So true,” Harry insisted. “You need to stop trying so hard and maybe just let love find you instead.”

“That’s probably the most cliche thing someone has ever told me,” she said and rolled her eyes. “What am I supposed to do then? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs and wait for someone to come knocking on our door and say they love me?”

“No, not at all,” Harry frowned. “I just think that maybe you need to open your eyes and take a step back. Lower your expectations and don’t be so picky. You’re not going to find Prince charming. No one is flawless.”

“You know what? It’s too late to be having this conversation,” she told him and stood up. There was something about what he just said that made her heart sink a little inside her chest. “I’m going to bed.”

“Hey, you okay?” Harry said and caught her wrist to stop her from leaving. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s okay,” she said and swallowed thickly. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” His hand was hot on her skin and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his long fingers and how he traced his thumb across her wrist in small circles. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

He really didn’t. Y/N wasn’t sure why she had suddenly gotten so upset; why she took what he said to heart. It made her feel like a brat almost. She was used to people making fun of her dating life but she didn’t like this. 

She didn’t want people to think she was shallow or impossible to please. Especially not Harry.  

Because that wasn’t the case. There were plenty of good guys out there and she was far from perfect herself. She had a lot of flaws. Y/N had just never clicked with anyone in the way she wanted to and she wasn’t going to get into a relationship with someone she didn’t feel she connected with one hundred percent.

“Okay,” Harry said with a heavy sigh and let go of her wrist. “Goodnight then.”

“Night.”

Harry still had a frown on his face as he watched her take her plate back into the kitchen and Y/N could feel her pulse racing as she felt his eyes on her. It was awkward and she was embarrassed for how she had just handled everything. It wasn’t even a big deal. He hadn’t said anything she hadn’t thought of herself before. Harry was just giving her advice. 

So why did she feel so upset? 

It was the first time she had ever gotten even the tiniest bit self-conscious about the amount of dates she went on, and as she crawled into bed she couldn’t help but wonder if she felt like this because it was Harry.

It was also the first time she realised she cared a lot about what he thought of her.

She wanted Harry to like her.

--

Y/N got her period a day later and just like that everything she had felt on Monday made so much sense. Of course. Luckily everything was completely fine between her and Harry the morning after she left him on the couch and they even baked some brownies Tuesday evening because Y/N was craving chocolate, which also made sense when she woke up with stains in her underwear and cramps in her lower region on Wednesday.

Despite that though she had quite a good day. She managed to finish her assignment in time and she didn’t hate it; she was maybe even a little bit pleased with it. She bought herself a new pair of sneakers that were on sale and an eyeshadow palette she had been wanting for a while. Her and Harry got chinese food for dinner before meeting the rest of the gang down at the pub.

Wednesdays meant quiz night and Y/N teamed up with Tara and together they managed to win first prize which gave them £50 to spend at the bar.

Y/N blamed the alcohol for everything that happened after that.  

She tripped on her way over to the toilets. She accidentally managed to somehow elbow Connor in the face. She also spilled half a pint of beer all over herself, leaving a huge wet stain on her trousers so it looked like she pissed herself.

But she was still in good spirits.

Until she spotted Harry at the bar with a tall gorgeous girl. Their faces were close and even from the booth she was sitting in she could see his dimples. It left a sour taste in her mouth watching the pair talk and it annoyed her how easily Harry once again had a girl swooning over him. Why was he even off flirting with some random girl when they were all supposed to be there together? And why was he so good at it? And why did he look so good doing it?

Y/N rolled her eyes when the girl giggled and reached out to touch his bicep. Disgusting.

“Hello?” Lucy snapped her fingers in front of Y/N’s face. “You still with us?”

“What?” She tore her eyes away from the scene that was taking place at the bar and turned her attention back to her two friends. “Yeah, of course.” She faked a laugh and took a long sip from her beer. Lucy and Tara shared a look, but they didn’t say anything else about it which she was thankful for.

Mostly because she had no idea how to explain any of it. She glanced over at Harry and the girl again and tried to understand why her chest suddenly felt so tight. It must be the alcohol.

And oh, right, of course, she had her period.

It was her hormones; the only logical explanation.

Satisfied with the answer to her own confusion she threw herself back into the conversation around the table, ignoring the fact that she could still see Harry and the girl in the corner of her eye.  

Then Declan showed up at their table with a round of vodka shots for everyone because he knew the bartender and got them for free.

Who was she to say no to free shots?

But she really should’ve.

The strong liquid didn’t sit right with her and instead of giving her a bigger buzz her head felt heavy and her ears were ringing. She also felt a little bit sick; the chinese food she had had with Harry slowly rising in the back of her throat. Taking shots had never really ended well for her but drunk Y/N still always seemed to think it was a fantastic idea.

It was a good thing she didn’t have a lecture or anything the next day, because her hangover was not going to be pretty.

And Y/N didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone before she unexpectedly jumped out of her seat, got her coat and stumbled outside. She needed fresh air and she couldn’t wait.

The second she stepped outside into the cold autumn night she instantly felt better. The nausea from the stuffy pub atmosphere disappeared and she sat down on the curb next to the road and took a few deep breaths. 

“Hey there Quiz-Queen, you alright?”

Harry.

She glanced up at him and even though he had called her by the nickname she had jokingly given herself after winning first-prize he was looking down at her with concerned eyes. Her purse hung from his shoulder, she hadn’t even realised she had left it behind, and he had his own long and vibrant plaid coat wrapped around himself; protecting him from the cold.

“Yeah,” she said and took another deep breath. “I just needed some air.”

“Hm,” Harry hummed, relieved she was okay. “Maybe next time let the rest of us know where you’re going and don’t just get up and leave.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not at all,” Harry assured and shook his head. “Just want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t think that £50 bar tab was the best thing for a lightweight like you.”

“Oiii,” she pouted. “That’s mean. You’re just jealous you didn’t win. How many right answers did you guys get again? 6 out of 20?”

“It’s not about winning, it’s about having fun,” Harry said with a smug smile and a twinkle in his eyes that he only ever got when he thought he was being clever. “And I had fun.”  

“Oh give it a rest,” she scoffed but there was still a smile on her face. “You love to win, don’t stand there and pretend to be a good loser when I know how competitive you can get.”  

Harry laughed and she felt butterflies come alive inside her stomach as she watched his dimples appear. This time for her and not for some stupid girl at the bar.  

“C’mon Silly-girl, let’s get you home,” he said, ignoring her comment about him being a sore loser, and offered his hand to help her up. His fingers were strong around hers and her skin was tingling as she watched her own hand disappear in his.

Once back up on her feet she had to hold onto Harry for a second to stop her head from spinning so much. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol anymore or her hormones... or if it was merely just because of Harry.

It was just easier to blame the alcohol or her period, so that’s what she did.

Harry had an arm around her to support her swaying body as they made their way over to the bus stop, holding her close to him. He smelled like beer and the shampoo she always secretly sniffed when she took a shower. It was something she would never admit out loud, or sober, but she loved the smell of it.

Sometimes she had considered using it on her own hair, it was just so fresh and relaxing, so Harry, but it was also one of those things she wasn’t so sure he would appreciate her doing. 

“We should’ve stopped to get some food,” she muttered and slumped back against her seat on the bus. “I’m starving and I’m craving something salty.”

“I can make us something when we get home,” Harry offered.

“Really?” Y/N perked up. ”Could you?”

“Yeah, I’m a bit hungry as well.”

“Oh my gosh, have I ever told you you’re the best roommate?”

“Pretty sure you haven’t,” Harry laughed. "I do, however, have a lot of post-it notes that one could argue suggest the opposite."

“I saw you talking to a girl earlier. She was very pretty.” It slipped out before Y/N had the chance to think twice about it. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me now and didn’t get to go home with her.”

Harry didn’t laugh at that but he still had the same twinkle in his eyes as before and a fond smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said and suddenly his hand was on her knee and he gave it a gentle squeeze; causing her hormones to act up again so her heart skipped a beat. “You’re not the worst person to be stuck with.”

--

As expected her hangover wasn’t pretty the next day.

She woke up with a raging headache and an upset stomach. After Harry had made them both some food she had been too tired to go wash her make-up off so the girl staring back at her in the bathroom mirror had black mascara smudges all around her eyes and golden glitter eyeshadow smeared across her bloated face. It was a tragedy. She was a tragedy.

However, the thing that made her hangover feel even worse was when she walked into the kitchen and saw the all dirty pans and plates from her and Harry’s late night meal. Pangs of guilt instantly swept through her. Harry was already gone by the time she woke up. He had an early seminar, which she knew he did because he had told her before they met up with the others at the pub, and she felt terrible that she had kept him up half the night only to make her food. He couldn’t have gotten more than two hours of sleep and it filled her up with guilt.

So much guilt she didn’t leave him a post-it note telling him the kitchen was a mess, because that would’ve just been super fucking rude since it was her fault he was even in the kitchen cocking at 3 am in the first place. Instead she washed up and decided to go out and get his favorite snacks as a thank you, and also because she was craving more chocolate and a fizzy drink.

Being hungover while having your period was really not the best combination.

Y/N hid her tousled hair under a beanie and put on a quick layer of foundation in an attempt to cover up her blotchy skin. It didn’t really help her feel much better about her appearance so she decided to put on a scarf as well to disguise herself as much as possible, just in case she’d run into someone she knew on her way to the store. She didn’t want to be recognised. Not today.

But of course Y/N wasn’t that lucky.

She ran into three people from her course, who all stopped her and chit-chatted to her about their seminars and latest assignment, all while she stood there with a basket full of various brands of crisps, drinks and candy feeling and looking like an absolute troll.

And that wasn’t even the worst.

No.

Because naturally it was also the day she bumped into someone, quite literally, in the stairs on her way back up to the flat.

Y/N yelped and accidentally dropped her bag of snacks as she tried to find her balance. A pair of hands caught her by the shoulders before she fell backwards and when she looked up to see who she had crashed into her whole face turned red.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she apologized with wide eyes, her heart beating fast inside her chest.

“No worries,” the man in front of her said and removed his hands from her shoulders, but she kind of wished he hadn’t because his voice was so deep and smoky her knees weakened as he spoke.

Not to mention he had the most stunning pair of eyes she had ever seen. They were a deep, earthy brown color with perfectly long eyelashes she could only ever dream of. He was utterly breathtaking with his long dark hair, scruffy stubble and nose piercing, that she usually didn’t really like on boys but the stranger in front of her made it work. Oh how he made it work.

And as he leaned down to pick up her bag for her she caught a whiff of his fragrance and her knees were seconds away from giving up all together.

“Thank you,” she managed to croak out as he handed her the bag full of snacks and prayed he hadn’t seen what was in it. She looked pathetic enough as it was and she racked her brain for something else to say but there was nothing. Y/N was left completely gobsmacked by the breathtaking man she had just crashed into. Her cheeks only getting hotter and hotter for every second she stood there like a total idiot just staring at him in awe. “I’m Y/N.”

Y/N wanted nothing more than to just sink through the floor in embarrassment. The stranger, thankfully, reached out and shook her extended hand with an amused smile on his lips.

“Luke.”

Luke let his eyes wander up and down her body, taking in her attire, and she had never felt so unattractive as she did in that moment. Why didn’t she at least take a shower before going out? Fuck.

“Right,” she nodded and reached up to adjust her beanie a little, as if it was going to make her look any better. “So eh... do you live here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

What was she doing?

“I do,” Luke confirmed. “I moved in a couple days ago.”

“Awesome.”

Awesome? Fucking idiot. 

She was definitely losing her mind. While she did go on a lot of dates she had not been blessed with the ability to make small talk. 

“I’m guessing you live here as well?” Luke asked and ran a hand through his hair to push back a couple of strands from his face. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen.

“Yeah,” Y/N confirmed, her mouth dry, and she licked her lips nervously. “I’m on the top floor... aaand I should really get going. My roommate is waiting for me.”

“Of course.”

“It was nice to meet you though. Welcome to the building.” Her heart was still racing. “Again, I’m sorry for crashing into you.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. It was good to meet you too,” Luke told her and gave her a small wink. “See you around.”

And Y/N didn’t know how it happened but a strange cackle escaped her lips as he winked at her and she ran off before she could witness his reaction to it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered to herself all the way up to her and Harry’s flat.

Once she got inside she fell back against the door and tried to catch her breath, from both practically running up five flights of stairs and the encounter she had just had with probably the hottest man alive.

She really was pathetic.

After she got herself together she shrugged off her coat and pulled off her stupid beanie, cursing herself yet again for not taking a shower before going to the store. She could at least have put on a cute outfit. But no. She went out looking like a slob.  

And as she sauntered into the flat she realised that Harry was home again, and with him were Nate, Lucy and Connor as well. 

“Well if it isn’t the Quiz-Queen herself,” Nate teased when he saw her and bowed his head mockingly from where he was sitting on the couch. “Glad to see that you’re still alive after last night.”

“We have a new neighbour,” Y/N informed them, ignoring Nate and his teasing comments, because the new neighbour was the only thing on her mind. “I crashed into him on my way up. Literally. I made a complete fool out of myself.”

“Nothing new then,” Connor joked.

“Ha-ha,” Y/N said dryly. “For real though, he was the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He was unreal.”

“Really?” It got Lucy’s attention and she perked up from where she was sitting on the couch with Nate. “What did he look like?”

“Like a damn model right off the runway,” Y/N groaned and collapsed in one of the armchairs. “I’m telling you, he was unreal. Eyelashes that went on forever. Tall. Cheekbones that could cut glass and his hair was soooooo shiny. He didn’t have a single flaw. He even made a nose piercing look good and you know how I feel about those.”

“Aw, I wanna see him too,” Lucy pouted. “Did you get his name?”

“Luke.”

“So our serial dater has another date then I’m assuming,” Connor sniggered.

“I wish,” Y/N replied with a sigh. “I could hardly get a word out. I just stood there and stared at him like a creep.”

“You could always go over and ask to borrow a cup of sugar,” Nate suggested and wiggled his eyebrows. “And then just suck him off to return the favor.”

“You’re an idiot,” Y/N said and raised her middle finger towards him. It also earned him a slap on the arm from Lucy as she scolded her boyfriend. Connor laughed and made a comment about how it would be the perfect porn scene.

And it was also in that moment Y/N realised Harry hadn’t said anything since she had joined them. She glanced over at him where he sat in the armchair across from her and frowned. He looked tired and it caused the guilt in her to rise up again. In addition to that it troubled her that he wasn’t saying anything about the new neighbour or joining in on the jokes. He just sat in his seat and kept his eyes glued to the TV and the random show that was airing. “Harry?”

“What?”

There was something about how he spoke and how he turned to look at her that made her feel even worse. His voice was taut and low. His eyes burned right through her. It was far from the Harry she was used to. She wanted to ask him what was wrong but she also didn’t want to do so in front of the others if they hadn’t noticed it themselves.

“Um, I got some snacks if you want some,” Y/N said instead. She wasn’t sure if the others had noticed at all but she didn’t like it. Maybe he was angry with her for making him stay up so late? What if it had made him late for his seminar?

“Thank you,” he replied half-heartedly and turned his attention back to the TV without another word. Confusion filled the room and she met Lucy’s baffled expression for a split second. Okay they had noticed. Fuck. Y/N looked at Harry again and there was so much she wanted to ask him but at the same time she was at a loss for words. It wasn’t like him to be so tense. Not one bit.

She didn’t like it.

--

On Saturday they were all, once again, out getting drunk. After her hangover on Thursday Y/N had told herself she wasn’t going to drink again that week, but Harry was still being acting weird around her so she was easily persuaded.

Because she needed a drink.

Harry hadn’t really done anything, which was also part of the problem. She hadn’t seen him all Friday or Saturday, not until he turned up for pre-drinks at Connor’s flat. And once he was there he didn’t even look at her or talk to her. It bothered her. A lot. She hadn’t had the chance to ask him what was wrong and nothing was making sense. She tried to remember if she had said something inappropriate to him on Wednesday, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t figure out why he was being off with her.

Which is why, after a couple of drinks, she took the first chance she got to confront him about it.

She spotted him alone at one of the tables inside the club they were at and marched right up, ignoring the people she accidentally bumped into on her way, and plopped herself down on the leather sofa next to him. The beer she was carrying spilled over in her hand as she did but she paid no attention to it and Harry looked at her with questioning eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” Y/N wasted no time. The music was loud around them and she had to lean into him to make sure he heard her, his curls tickled her upper lip from how close she was. Harry only shrugged.

“Nothing is going on.”

“Oh really? Could’ve fooled me,” she said, almost shouting because of the music, and rolled her eyes. “You’re acting strange.”

“Nothing is going on,” Harry repeated and pursed his lips, looking away from her. Y/N tilted her head forward, to force him to look at her again, and waved her hand in front of his face.

“Look at me then,” she cried out in frustration. “Stop ignoring me and tell me what’s going on!”

It wasn’t the best spot for them to be having a conversation. A couple of people from the tables around them looked over curiously and the dim lights and loud music of club made it harder than what she would’ve liked. She had originally planned to talk to him that morning but he had gone out before she even woke up and it was the last sign she needed to know that he was avoiding her. So talking to him at a busy club felt like the only option. 

She flinched back as Harry unexpectedly turned to face her, almost knocking his head into hers.

”You know for wanting to find love so badly you’re really fucking blind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N frowned. Harry scoffed.

“You’re so oblivious,” he began. “If you just stopped being so desperate and so obsessed with finding the perfect guy for one damn second then maybe you’d-” Harry stopped himself and pressed his lips together in a thin line as he looked down at the beer in his hands. 

“Then what Harry?” she demanded, and didn’t even bother to try calm the anger that was stirring inside her. Harry ignoring her made her feel worse than she ever could’ve imagined. Nothing could’ve prepared her for it. She hated it. “I wouldn’t be so unlovable?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t,” Harry warned. “You know I would never say that. Don’t be daft.”  

“Do I?” she kept challenging him. The alcohol in her bloodstream gave her enough courage to not back down. Even if the loud music made it harder to hear what the other one was saying there was no way she was going to drop it. She needed to know what was going on. She couldn’t go another day with Harry ignoring her; she was too used to having him around for him to just cut her off.

“Yes, you do,” he spat.

“But you think I’m desperate?” she spat back and Y/N wasn’t sure why she was picking a fight with him in the middle of a full packed club, but she was.

Because at least he was talking to her.

“Yeah I do,” Harry admitted and licked his lips. She struggled to breathe a little after that. Her chest felt too tight. “Why are you so set on having the perfect relationship? No couple is perfect.”

“Lucy and Nate are,” she stated, not wanting her facade to falter in front of him. Her throat was dry but her eyes were burning with wet tears because she hated this. She hated it so much.

“No, they’re not,” Harry sneered loudly. “Both of them are far from fucking perfect. Nate is a menace and Lucy is a nutter.”

“Harry, don’t be a dick.”

“What? So just because they’re my friends I’m only allowed see the good in them? I still love both of them and they still love each other even if they’re not perfect,” he insisted. “You know they end up arguing like every night we go out, right? Over something stupid Nate said or some insane shit Lucy did. Do you know how many times Lucy has asked me for advice when it comes to Nate? They’re not perfect.”

“So I’m desperate because I want to find someone who is perfect for me?”

“What if you already have?”

“What?”

The music was still loud around them but suddenly the only thing she could hear was her own beating heart.

And suddenly she became aware of just how close the two of them actually were. Harry’s nose brushed against hers as his mouth carefully, barely, grazed her lips. His breath was hot on her face and oh wow, had his eyelashes always been that long?

Y/N wanted to reach out and touch him, but the way he was looking at her made her unable to move any part of her body. She was frozen; waiting for him to make the next move because she was far too overwhelmed by his presence to do anything herself. He was so close. Too close -- but at the same time not close enough. She wondered if he could hear her heart as well. 

“Oi, oi!”

Out of the blue Declan flopped down next to her on the sofa and just like that she was brought back into reality and away from Harry’s green eyes. Declan had two pints of beer with him and grinned at the two of them; clueless to what he had just interrupted. He didn’t come alone though, soon the rest of the gang had gathered around the small table. All so clueless.

Y/N watched as Harry drank what was left of his beer and glared at Declan and the rest while she tried to stop her head from spinning so much. What had just happened?

They were all talking around her but their voices got lost in the loud music and her own thoughts.

‘What if you already have?’ what was that even supposed to mean?

She wanted to turn and look at Harry again but she was too scared of what he might do or say and too scared that everyone else was going to notice something was wrong and ask them about it. Instead she just kept her eyes down to where her thigh was pressing into Harry’s after Declan had squeezed himself down beside them.

Thankfully no one else seemed to pick up on tension between the two of them but Y/N still regretted absolutely everything about her decision to talk to Harry. It hadn’t helped make anything clearer and she was now stuck next to him in a busy club with their drunk friends. Great.

To make things worse she then, out of nowhere, heard someone call her name and she nearly dropped her drink as she noticed who it belonged to. Well fuck.

“Luke.” 

His name fell from her lips as soon as she spotted him waving at her. He came up and stood behind Nate and Lucy, with his hands in his pockets and his hair slicked back perfectly. Lucy was quick to turn around to get a look at the guy Y/N had been raving about just a couple days ago. Then she looked at Y/N again with her jaw hanging open and gave her a look that confirmed Luke was indeed as flawless as he had been described. 

The tension was thick and awkward as Luke stood before her and her friends, more specifically Harry, and Y/N could feel him tense up beside her as he stared Luke down. She had no idea what to say or do. “This is our new neighbour I was telling you about,” was the only thing she could think of. The smirk on Luke’s face as he heard that she had been talking about him didn’t go unnoticed.

“Y’alright then?” Luke asked and nodded towards Y/N. She couldn’t breathe. How was he there? After everything that had just happened with Harry... where did Luke even come from? She hadn’t processed her conversation with Harry yet, how was she supposed to have a conversation with Luke again, in front of everyone, when her head was so scrambled?

“Yeah, I’m great.” What a fucking lie.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh.” What was happening? “Ummmm, I don’t - well I - ehm I-”

“Yes! She would love a drink!” Tara interrupted her with a big grin, and any other time she would’ve been grateful for her friend stepping in and helping, but now? “Wouldn’t you?” Y/N wasn’t even sure.

“I ehhh - well, I guess so?”

What?

Her whole body was screaming NO when she got up and felt Harry’s warmth leave her side. His eyes burned into her back and it was a miracle she even made it to the bar with Luke without vomiting right there and then.

Two days ago, when she first bumped into Luke, all she wanted was to go on a date with him. But something had changed. Something inside her had clicked, and it wasn’t her hormones or the alcohol this time. All she could think about as Luke talked to her and bought her a new drink was how he wasn’t Harry.

Luke didn’t know how she liked her tea. Luke didn’t know she couldn’t go straight to bed after watching a thriller or anything that resembled a scary movie; she needed to watch something more upbeat and cheerful before going to sleep. Luke didn’t know she liked to keep things in order. Luke didn’t know she ate her weight in chocolate when she got her period. Luke didn’t know she loved mint chocolate chip ice cream. Luke didn’t know she called her mum at least once a day. Luke didn’t know she was desperate to find love. 

Harry did.

Harry knew all those things.

And as she stood at the bar with Luke she realised he wasn’t actually flawless. He was still gorgeous, only a little less breathtaking that time around because he knew he looked good and he wasn’t humble about it. He smelled like cigarettes and she hated the smell of smoke mixed with his strong cologne. It gave her a headache. He also couldn’t keep his eyes off her cleavage and didn’t bother asking her anything about herself.

His nose piercing didn’t even look that good.

Luke wasn’t flawless and she didn’t really like him. 

Harry wasn’t flawless either... but she still liked him. 

“And that’s when we-”

“You know what Luke,” she interrupted and put a finger up to stop him from talking. “I think I have to get back to my friends. But um... “ She glanced at the drink he had bought her before picking it up and downed it in one go, because he had paid for it and the least she could do was drink it. The alcohol burned a little in the back of her throat and she accidentally spilled a few drops down her shirt. She hardly noticed though because she was just aching to get back to her friends. Luke looked at her with wide eyes and a puzzled expression. “Thanks for the drink! I’ll see you around.”

With that she walked off with just one thing, or rather someone, on her mind.

But that someone wasn’t there when she found her friends again. She spotted Lucy and her bright dress sitting on Nate’s lap. She spotted Tara having a conversation with a girl from the table next to them. She spotted Declan and Connor laughing loudly over something on their phones.

She did not spot Harry.

Tara was the first one to notice her standing there just staring at the empty seat where Harry was sat a while ago. Tara excused herself from the conversation she was having and came up to Y/N, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Where is Harry?”

“He left,” Tara told her. “I think.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Lucy came up to her as well, with a small frown on her face, worried something had happened. “Is everything alright?”

“I need to talk to Harry,” Y/N said and looked around the club; hoping to spot his curls somewhere in the crowd. Her eyes stung with tears when she couldn’t see him.

“He left after you walked off,” Lucy confirmed softly. “Is everything alright? Did something happen with Luke?”

“Yes- I mean no. I have to go,” was all she told them before she rushed off. “I need Harry.”

Y/N wasn’t aware of the three words that left her mouth but it didn’t make them any less true. It all made so much sense. It had clicked. ‘What if you already have?’ 

Yes. 

How could she have been so blind?

--

When she finally made it home she was out of breath from running all the way from the bus stop to their flat. She prayed Harry had actually gone home and not continued his night at some other club. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he had. 

But as soon as she stepped inside she heard the familiar sound of his guitar coming from his bedroom and she didn’t even bother catching her breath before walking across the flat in a couple of strides. She hadn't really thought anything through. Her whole body was just screaming at her that she needed Harry and it couldn't wait. 

Harry left his dirty dishes out. He sometimes forgot to put the toilet seat down. He was disorganized. He did not only leave his dirty dishes out but he could also leave his dirty socks lying around the flat. He didn't like the same music as her. He could be petty and immature. He had ignored her for two days. 

But Harry also made her tea when she was having a bad day. He made her laugh. He made her food in middle of the night. He always asked about her day. He helped her home when she got too drunk. He sometimes surprised her with breakfast. He understood her. He made her feel at ease and she could always be herself around him. 

All of the good thing outweighed the bad, and the bad was only part of who he was; Harry, her roommate, her friend, the boy who she hadn't realised gave her butterflies until now.

And perhaps she should’ve knocked or at least made her presence known in any other way because as she slung his bedroom door open Harry was visibly startled and a sour note came from his guitar. He looked at her with wide eyes. 

“Y/N? What the fuck?”

“Do I have any flaws?” she asked him breathlessly. 

“What?” he asked. “What do you mean?” 

“What about me annoys you?” 

 “Shouldn’t you be off getting a drink with Mr. Flawess himself.”

“Well I changed my mind. Now just answer the question,” she urged, wanting to cut straight to the chase. Harry frowned and she wasn’t really sure if he was angry with her or just confused. Maybe both? It didn’t matter though, she just needed answers before she passed out from the anxiety running through her. “Do I have any flaws?”

“I - yeah. You do,” he said. Y/N nodded and stepped further into his room, wanting to be closer to him. “Why?” 

“Just - wait,” she told him and ignored his question by asking her own. “What are they?”

Harry didn’t reply at first. He just sat in silence and stared at her with his brows still pressed together in a frown. God, what if she had gotten it all wrong? She’d have to give up the flat to Harry and move out, leave Manchester, maybe even leave the UK. She’d be absolutely mortified; she’d never recover from it. 

Just as she lost all hope and considered running off to hide in her own bedroom for the rest of the night, possibly for the rest of the term, Harry slowly put his guitar to the side. He rubbed his hand over his chin and pinched the bottom of his lip between his index finger and his thumb, contemplating his next few words cautiously.

“You’re incredibly stubborn,” he told her and despite the fact that he had just basically insulted her a wave relief washed over her as he finally said something. 

“Okay, what else?” 

“You ask way too many questions during a movie.”

“Okay.”

“You overthink absolutely everything.”

“More.”

“You leave notes around the flat over the most meaningless things.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t leave the kitchen a mess then.”

“You have too much milk in your tea.”

“You don’t have enough.”

Harry cracked a smile but it faltered almost just as quickly.

“You want love but don’t see the person right in front of you who has fallen head over heels for you.”

Y/N had never seen or heard him as vulnerable as he was right there and then. For a moment she wondered if maybe she had misheard him but judging by his nervous fidgeting and how he for the first time ever struggled to look her in the eyes she quickly realised she hadn’t.  

“I do now,” she admitted quietly, almost too quiet, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. “I see you.” 

Harry still heard her and looked right into her eyes as he took a sharp breath. Her body ached to feel his touch as she stood in the middle of his room, terrified of what she was about to ask next, but there was no going back. It was, after all, the reason she had followed him home. “And you still like me despite all my flaws?”

“Well,” Harry started and fought back a smile. “I suppose I wouldn’t have saved all your notes if I didn't.” 

It was really all it took for her to close the space between them and throw herself over him. Harry was quick to catch her and his arms wrapped around her body tightly, holding her close, as she pressed her lips to his.

It was strange kissing him and she didn’t quite know where to put her own hands at first, but it felt right that much she knew. Her whole body was on fire from just a simple little kiss. Y/N never wanted it to stop. Harry grinned against her lips before deepening the kiss and sneaked his hands in under her blazer, pushing it off her shoulders before running his hands over her body. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and it was almost ridiculous how giddy she felt. Harry made her feel drunk, more so than the alcohol in her body. Nothing had ever tasted as good as him. She was completely lost in him and his warmth. 

It wasn’t until she felt him pull at her trousers that she was reminded of reality again and she pulled away from his lips. “You okay?” Harry asked immediately.

“Yeah,” she panted and leaned her forehead against his, twirling the hair in the back of his neck around her finger carefully. “I just... I still got my period.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded and tightened his grip on her, still holding her close, and she was sure she could feel his heartbeat against hers. “S’that all? Because frankly I don’t really care about a little blood right now.”

“Oh.”

“Do you?”

“I... no.”

“You sure?” Harry wondered and placed his fingers under her chin and angled her face so he could look into her eyes. He saw right through her and her mind was hazy as her body melted right into his. Harry made her feel safe and comfortable and it was all she needed to know she was sure.  

She needed him. 

“Give me a second,” she said and gave him a quick peck before getting off him. It pained her to do so but even as she made her way over to the bathroom to remove her tampon, perhaps one of the most unattractive things you could do, Harry’s eyes on her as she walked away made her feel sexier than she ever had before.

She didn’t waste a single second inside the bathroom and quickly did what she had to before she just about ran back to Harry’s bedroom. She caught a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh. She looked dazed. But in the best possible way. Her cheeks were rosy. Her hair was messy. Lips swollen. It was the first time she had ever seen herself look so radiant. Glowing almost. 

Happy.

She also decided to not put her trousers back on after she was done in the bathroom, because why waste time when she was planning to take them off soon anyway?

And Harry seemed to have had the same idea because when she came back he had already removed his floral shirt and his beige trousers as well. His lips were the same colour as her lipstick and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at her bare legs and underwear. It made her whole body tingle and she didn’t mind him gawking, because she couldn’t take her own eyes away from his naked chest and the bulge between his legs.

“Come here,” Harry murmured and held out his hand for her to take. He gently pulled at her arm until she was sitting on top of him on the bed, straddling his hips. The lack of clothing on both of them made her blush as he embraced her and she felt all of him under her.  

Harry cupped one of his hands under her jaw and leaned in to kiss her again. It started out slow but as soon as his lips touched her a soft moan came from her. His lips were slightly chapped and yet they were the best lips she had ever kissed. It didn't matter that they weren’t perfectly soft. Not one bit. Y/N never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. 

The kiss quickly deepend and she had her hands in his hair, tugging at his soft curls and getting lost in the taste of his lips. She was throbbing against him and knew he could also feel just how desperately she wanted him through the thin lace of her panties. His lips were eager against hers and she was too lost in him to notice he had blindly reached out to the bedside table and sought out a condom.

It wasn’t until she felt his hand and the small foil packet brush against her leg that she realised. She pulled back and met his green eyes, breathing hard as she tried to find her words to speak. He looked back at her with questioning eyes, silently asking her if she was alright with what was happening between them, and she just nodded. 

She sat back to give him some room and watched as he pulled himself out of his boxers and then helped him get them off before he rolled the condom over his length. The sight alone made her light-headed and, if he hadn’t already, she was sure he could hear how hard her heart was beating. He also caught her staring but she didn’t really care and he only pulled her back into him.

He kissed her along her collarbone, sucking lightly at the skin as he made his way up to her neck. Y/N closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure as she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. Harry ran his hands up and down her back and then slipped his hands in under the tank top she was wearing before he pulled it off her swiftly. 

Harry took a few seconds to stare at her naked chest when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra before he kissed each of her breasts lightly, making her nipples hard. Y/N just cupped his face and pulled his head up so she could kiss him again, impatient and desperate to feel him inside her and he giggled against her lips. 

Harry only pushed the crotch of her underwear to the side when he lined himself up under her. She gasped as she slowly sank down onto him and had to break their kiss. Harry had one hand around her thigh and the other on the back of her head, her hair twisted between his fingers, as they breathed the same air. 

When she eventually started to move her hips after getting used to the stretch of him he groaned softly, low in his throat, and tightened the grip he had on her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Her blood rushed inside her and her whole chest and face flushed from hearing his words and how hoarse his voice was. She put her hands on his stomach, her fingers digging into his skin around his tattoo, before lifting her hips and taking all of him again; craving the friction created between the two of them.

Harry moaned and let his head fall backwards, breathing heavily, and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his strong jawline. She also couldn’t stop herself from kissing him right there and Harry moaned again as he felt her lips on his skin. 

It made her smile; knowing she was having the same affect on him that he had on her. 

Y/N did her best to find a steady rhythm riding him but her thighs were trembling around him and it had been awhile since she had been on top of anyone. She had almost forgotten how to do it. Harry bucked his hips up into her and she barely had time to react before he impatiently flipped them over and yanked her underwear off.

A loud moan left her lips as he pushed right back into her and instantly built up a new quicker pace, giving her all of him and hitting the spot in her that made her toes curl. He leaned down and connected their mouths again. His chest was slick with sweat as his body pressed against hers and her hands were all over him because she just couldn’t decide where to put them. She wanted all of him. 

And when Harry hoisted himself up and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder to get deeper she didn’t care if any of their neighbours heard her.

“Oh my god.”

Then his fingers were stroking her between her legs and it quite literally took her breath away. Her whole body was trembling as she felt every hot and thick inch of him. Her release was close, she could feel it in the pit of her stomach and he could see it on her as he continued to move above her.

And not once did Harry lose his pace or falter when her nails scratched his back and she clenched tightly around him as her orgasm swept through her body. He kept thrusting into her while she moaned and shivered beneath him.

Just as she came down from her high he got his own release and came with a loud sigh of relief. He continued to move his hips against hers until his muscles gave up from exhaustion and he collapsed on top of her.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, both spent, and she tried to catch her breath. 

Which was hard seeing as he was still on top of her and she could still feel him inside her.

When he raised his head to look down at her, grinning from ear to ear, her whole stomach fluttered. And this time she knew it was because of Harry. It wasn’t because of alcohol. Not because she had a hangover. Not because she was stressed. Maybe because of a few hormones. 

But there were just no excuses. 

Eventually Harry got up. He removed the used condom and retrieved a small towel to clean himself up quickly before handing it over and climbing back into bed with her.

Y/N curled up against his chest and let him run his fingers through her hair, gently scratching the top of her head, and she was seconds away from falling asleep when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry for calling you desperate.”

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him.

“S’okay, I have been a little.”

“Still,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t really fair of me.”

“You know you could’ve just told me.”

“I was going to,” Harry admitted with a low chuckle. “But you always came back home announcing you were going on another date so it never really felt like the right time.”

“Hmm, well you didn’t really help yourself by bringing a girl back like every weekend,” she pointed out and laughed lightly. “It was hard to not be blind.”

“Had to try to forget about you somehow,” Harry admitted and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting his lips linger for a few seconds before continuing. “But you and your stupid post-it notes made it hard.”

“Did you really save all of them?” she asked and pushed herself up so she was leaning on her elbows. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning proudly. Harry laughed and tipped his head back, covering his face with his hands as his cheeks turned pink.

“God, I’m gonna regret telling you that aren’t I?”

“Maybe,” she laughed again before giving his chest a quick kiss, just because she could. “I do kind of enjoy writing them for you though.”

“Of course you do,” Harry said and peaked out from behind his hands with a cheeky smile. “And I enjoy leaving the kitchen a mess because I know you’ll leave me a new one,” he confessed and tapped her nose. 

“I fuckin’ knew it!” she exclaimed with a gasp and shoved him away from her playfully. “You absolute knobhead!” 

Harry only laughed and pulled her back into his warm body. 

On her way back home from the club Y/N had been a little bit worried that she was wrong or that it was going to be weird to go from roommates to more with Harry -- but it felt like the most natural thing. It felt just as natural as everything else they already did together, and maybe that was why she had been so picky recently. Maybe it was why she looked for flaws in every guy she dated so she had an excuse to not see them again. She had already found what she wanted; she just hadn’t realised. How stupid.

“Hey Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

-- 

please let me know your thoughts here ! And please share it if you liked it, it would mean a lot to me! 💛

[artificialqueens]

I Know the Sound (Of Your Heart) (Rosnali) - Athena2

Denali works the overnight shift at a diner, and has a crush on the woman who hosts the radio show she listens to every night.

A/N: I've been busy with school and work lately, but I finally finished this and wanted to share it! Please leave feedback if you'd like, I really do love reading your comments. Thank you to Writ for beta-ing!

Title from the Sound by the 1975.

Denali doesn’t hate the night shift at the diner.

It has its slow times and busy times, especially on the weekends. It has its regular customers—the group of college kids that comes every Monday for all-you-can-eat-pancakes, the woman from the local paper who comes in a few nights a week and gets a to-go box of pastries for her coworkers on deadline. It has its good points, like her coworkers and the free slices of cakes and pies the owner lets them take, and its bad points, like the rude customers and weekend rushes.

It’s pretty much a typical nine-to-five--just nine at night until five in the morning.

The night shift isn’t ideal, but it’s easier with her schedule. She gets home a little after five in the morning, collapses into bed, and sleeps until ten or eleven. Then she heads to the ice rink and trains for hours before teaching a few afternoon lessons and going back to the diner. She’s tired, of course, so often it’s just her default state at this point. But the full-time coach at the rink is planning to leave soon, meaning she can pick up his hours and classes, and then she can quit the diner and practice more and get a reasonable amount of sleep. She just needs to tough it out another month or two, and she can do that. She’s been toughing it out on the ice for months, pushing past her bleary eyes and weary limbs to keep her place on the competition team.

She’s in the kitchen tonight, dropping baskets of fries into oil and making grilled cheese for the occasional customer, business mostly a crawl after eleven. But it’s quiet, and she gets to turn the owner’s ancient radio to her favorite station.

“--if you’re just joining us, welcome to the Pink Hour! Not sure why they call it that, because I’m here all night, but whatever, I just work here. I’m Rosé, I hope all you gorgeous listeners out there are having a lovely night.”

Denali leans against the grill and sighs. She found the show months ago, flipping through local radio stations on a drive home after forgetting her AUX cord. The host’s voice had pulled her in, and Denali stayed in the car for five minutes after reaching her apartment’s parking lot just so she could hear the rest of the story Rosé was telling. Within days, that station turned on the second her car roared to life, and she didn’t even bother with the AUX cord if she was driving at night. Not when she could listen to Rosé.

Her voice does something to Denali, makes her calm and happy all at once. It helps that Rosé tells hilarious stories about gigs she’s played and takes callers in between her song picks, playing their suggestions or giving them a listening ear or sharing some advice if they want it. It brings some excitement to an otherwise boring shift, gives Denali something to look forward to. The show runs from nine at night to five in the morning, and Denali likes that they have that in common, that they’re out there doing the same shift, with Rosé’s voice and perfect song selections keeping her company.

“I’m in a dancing mood tonight,” Rosé continues through the speakers. “I’d dance myself, but I’m too damn tired--hopefully they don’t bleep that out--so I’ll let ABBA take over. My parents played them all the time when I was a kid, and this one is my favorite.”

The unmistakable first notes of ‘Dancing Queen’ pour from the speakers, and Denali grins through her exhaustion, letting Rosé get her through the night.

---

“--So I’m standing there on stage, singing and minding my own business, and then a rat, a fu--a freaking rat runs in the bar. I ran for my life and tripped on the amp plug, and that, my lovely little listeners, is how I sprained my ankle last year. I just wish the story was more glamorous.”

Denali’s so lost in the story she accidentally tips an extra chicken tender in the fryer. Whatever, a little midnight snack won’t hurt. She brings the order out to one of two occupied tables, then devours her prize the second she’s out of sight. The radio is playing a Fleetwood Mac song, and Denali sighs as Brooke, the only other person working with her, pops in. They usually work the night shift together because Brooke spends her days training with some ballet company, and though they’re not super close, that combination of exhaustion and dedication has created an understanding between them, and one of them will often pick up the slack when the other is too tired to even stand.

“Contraband?” Brooke asks, nodding to Denali’s chicken-tender-stuffed cheeks. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

Denali finishes chewing and nods. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Still listening to that radio show? Why not just listen to a murder podcast like the rest of us?”

“Some of us aren’t obsessed with true crime, Hytes.” Denali rolls her eyes. “And why would I want to hear about people getting murdered on the way to their cars? I drive a car.”

Brooke snorts. “Fair.”

“I could probably kick their ass, though,” Denali says.

“You could,” Brooke agrees, then sighs. “I better get back out there. Enjoy the radio show.”

“Thanks.”

Denali turns it up a little after Brooke leaves, just in time to catch Rosé’s story about the song. Denali stands still as Rosé explains how she won her middle school talent show singing that song when she was just in sixth grade, how it made her want to sing all the time.

Denali can’t help but imagine Rosé singing, even if she doesn’t actually know what Rosé looks like. It would be easy to find her if she wanted to—the show has an Instagram page, and she would undoubtedly find Rosé there—but Denali likes the mystery of it. Likes keeping Rosé in her mind and behind her radio speakers. It’s ridiculous, probably, how much Denali likes hearing Rosé talk, but every word is so expressive, so passionate, and Denali feels like she’s gotten to know part of Rosé just through her stories, like how she got a guitar for her tenth birthday, or that she likes trying different fancy drinks when she goes to coffee shops, or that she had her first kiss in her car, hiding behind the high school gym--though that story makes Denali oddly jealous. It’s comforting, somehow, to know Rosé is out there, that she and Denali are occupying the same space and time, even if they’ve never met.

As long as Denali can hear her voice, things feel okay.

---

The nights continue, bleeding into days on the ice where the cold doesn’t even wake Denali up anymore because she’s so used to it. She’s tired, so tired she almost falls asleep in someone’s pile of leftover mashed potatoes, but she’s so close. The head coach is leaving in two weeks, and the rink’s manager already said the job is hers. Two more weeks and then she can sleep at night and be a normal level of tired like everyone else.

The song on the radio transitions into the crackling static of a caller connecting. Denali’s thought of calling in to request a song a few times, thinking that it would be like officially talking to Rosé--albeit over the phone--but she always chickens out before she can even type the first number. This is the most ridiculous crush Denali’s ever had, and she definitely has to call it a crush now, given all her fantasies of busting down the radio station’s door to ask Rosé out. She sighs and listens as the caller speaks. It’s a teenage boy, one trying and failing to sound older, telling Rosé about how he came out to his friends today, how they were so happy for him and want to throw a party this weekend. He had been nervous all week, the boy explains, and found Rosé’s show when he was up at night and used it to stay calm.

“Thank you,” Rosé says, and Denali can tell from how her voice is a little thick that she’s really touched. It’s not the first time she’s gotten calls like this, either. “I’m so happy things worked out for you. My friends and family were really supportive when I came out too, and I’m glad you’ll have that support. Be proud and be you, okay?” Rosé clears her throat. ���Now, I hate to be that cheesy person--oh, who am I kidding, I love to be that person--but here’s a special song just for you.”

Denali laughs out loud as Diana Ross starts singing about coming out. This whole night, and how kind and genuine and sweet Rosé was, have only made Denali’s crush deepen. Maybe she should find Rosé, message her on Instagram. Denali can’t imagine seeing her in person, hearing that voice and that laugh so close. Finding out all the things about Rosé that she can’t get over the radio.

Maybe one day.

---

Denali’s almost home when she realizes she was so busy thinking about Rosé that she forgot her phone at the diner, and, tired as she is, she’d rather just go get it now than later. She trudges back in the place to hear a laugh--a laugh she knows for some reason, even if it doesn’t belong to any of her coworkers. And then she hears the voice, one excitedly reading out the pecan pancakes on the menu, and follows it to a booth in the corner. It’s coming from a woman with soft pink hair and a huge smile. She’s gorgeous, but it’s the voice that stops Denali in her tracks. Because she absolutely, unmistakably knows that voice. She listens to it every night, its smooth sound and cackling laughs flowing through the scuffed speakers of the radio.

The woman is Rosé.

It simply has to be. Even if Denali’s never seen her, she knows it has to be her. Who else could have that exact voice? Denali’s about to march over to the table when she slams into something, and looks up to see Brooke clutching her order pad in a death grip.

“What are you still doing here?” Denali asks.

“I was on my way out when that table”--Brooke nods to the corner--”came in. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a ridiculously beautiful woman at that table, and I’m gonna wait on her.”

Denali yanks the order pad out of her hand. “I’m waiting on her. Rosé is at that table!”

Brooke stares at her. “No, I think her name is Vanessa.”

Now Denali stares. What if she’s wrong and it’s not Rosé? She risks another glance at the booth and suddenly realizes there are two women there, and her eyes narrow. “Who are you talking about?” she asks Brooke suspiciously.

“The tiny one, with the brown hair.” Brooke crosses her arms. “Who are you talking about?”

“The one with the pink hair and the most amazing smile ever! She hosts that radio show I listen to every night!”

“Oh. Oh,” Brooke repeats, realization dawning on her. “Well, maybe we can both wait--“

“Excuse me,” a rough voice says, and Denali knows from Brooke’s deer-in-headlights-look that it’s the brunette. “Can someone show me where the bathroom is?”

“Brooke can,” Denali says, giving the blonde a gentle push, watching her trail with Vanessa out of sight and almost sprinting to the booth Rosé is now at by herself. She’s even prettier up close, with kind eyes and a perfect smile. Denali can do this. Except now that she’s here, she has no idea what she’s doing. Should she tell Rosé that she knows her? How creepy is it to admit that she recognized her voice?

“Can I help you?” Rosé asks, and hearing her voice close like this makes Denali surer than ever that it’s her. It sounds a little different in person, but it’s definitely her. It snaps her out of her thoughts, and she realizes she’s standing in front of the table in a waitress uniform with her mouth wide open.

“I should be asking you that,” Denali stammers, trying to recover. “Can I get you coffee or anything?”

“Can I get the caramel latte?”

“Of course.”

“My friend wanted coffee too, but I don’t think she’ll need it, considering how long she’s been in that bathroom with your friend.” She flashes a smirk, and Denali’s knees wobble.

“I don’t think she will either.” Denali snorts, but a rush of determination hits her. Things worked out for Brooke, so why can’t they work out for her too? And Rosé coming in here this morning—the morning Denali happens to forget her phone—feels like fate, like someone wanted them to meet. Screw it, Denali thinks. “Hey, uh, you have a show on the radio, right? Please don’t think I’m a creep, it’s just—I listen to it every night when I’m at work.”

“Always nice to meet a fan,” Rosé says. The smirk is still there, but it fades into a real smile. “But yes, I do have a show. I’m glad you like it.”

“I love you,” Denali blurts. “I--I love the show, I mean,” she says, her face on fire. “It’s kept me company at work. You’re really fun to listen to.”

“Thanks.” Denali might be imagining it, but there’s a hint of a blush in Rosé’s cheeks. “You probably know my name, but I’m Rosé.”

“I’m Denali.”

Rosé smiles again. “Denali, I think you’re pretty fun to listen to too. Would you want to go on a date sometime? Then we can listen to each other all night. I gotta warn you, though, I love to talk.”

“I’d love to. I can handle talking, believe me. Actually, you know what--” Denali slides into the other side of the booth, grinning at the excited look on Rosé’s face--”I’m off the clock. What do you say we have a date right now?” By the time she hits the ice she’ll be cursing herself for not sleeping, but she wants to talk to Rosé so bad, wants to spend this morning with her.

Rosé grins. “Absolutely. Do you think someone could get me that latte though?” she asks sheepishly. “I’m so tired.”

“Make that two.” Denali laughs and then flags down one of her coworkers, not wanting to miss a single second.

[lemonpeter]

STARKER, by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 5: Wedding

A/N: because it comes up in this chapter: we took the artistic liberty of changing canon, so our May was not blipped.

and the big day is finally here!! our babies are getting MARRIED!! enjoy all the sap! <3 -bloo and bri 💕

Warnings: marriage, reference to canonical character death

Masterlist ao3

————

"So, Tony," Mary started, leaning against her husband on the couch, glass of wine in hand. "How long have you and Peter known each other?"

Everyone was gathered in the sitting area, having just finished a wonderful home cooked meal of pot roast, potatoes, and roasted veggies, prepared by Mary, May, and Peter. But most of the work had been done by the latter.

Tony smiled softly at the question, casting a glance at Peter, who was tucked into his own side. He took a small sip from his glass before speaking. "A few years. We met through my job, actually. I was in a bit of a tricky situation, and in my search for possible- solutions, I stumbled across some of Peter's work. And I was absolutely blown away."

The statement elicited a hum of pride from Ben as he raised his beer in the air. “That’s our Pete, ever the genius. He gets it from his uncle.” The grin on his face was easy and relaxed as he nudged his knee against May’s.

Peter snorted out a quiet laugh, gazing at his uncle and then landing his eyes on Tony. “I was just happy to help,” he said sweetly. And it wasn’t untrue. He had been beyond thrilled to go to Berlin with Tony. He’d been idolizing the man nearly a decade at that point.

How had that been less than three years ago? It felt like a lifetime had passed since the day they first met, when he walked into their tiny apartment to find Tony Stark sitting on his couch, winking at him.

Mary nodded, an easy smile on her lips. “That’s perfect.” She looked at Richard, holding onto his hand. The diamond on her wedding ring glinted in the light. “Sounds a bit like us, doesn’t it?”

Her husband laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead, his gaze fond. “It does, doesn’t it? But like father, like son, I guess.” He grinned at Peter.

The young man laughed, smiling sheepishly. He knew it was different, completely so, but he made no effort to correct the statement. He liked the idea that he and Tony were like his parents. That they were just another normal couple, living a normal life. One without extraordinary responsibility, risk, pain, and loss.

The life that they were meant to live, together.

Tony chuckled, hugging Peter closer to his body. He kissed the top of his fiancé’s head, nearly a mirrored action of how the younger man’s parents had acted. And- wasn’t that something? “Well, I’m just glad I found him when I did. He changed me, and my life, for the better and I couldn’t imagine living without him at this point.”

May snorted, covering it with a cough. It wouldn’t have fit the scene for her to laugh at something that was seemingly so random. Especially since she was the only person in the room other than Peter that knew that this Tony definitely wouldn’t be able to imagine life without Peter. Not without direction from her nephew’s fantasy, that is.

Hopefully Peter wouldn’t catch her slip up.

He didn’t seem to, just glancing over to her for a second before looking at his mom as she spoke again.

“Now, what’s the plan for the wedding? When is it going to be? Oh, a late-summer wedding would be so lovely. What are you thinking?” Mary asked, rambling excitedly, eyes wide as she looked over at Tony and Peter. “I can’t believe our boy is finally getting married!”

May wished that she could ignore the way her heart clenched at the words. There was no ‘finally’. Peter shouldn’t have been getting married. He was far too young. She hated the way that no one else there could understand how wrong it all was. She had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t real.

“Oh, well,” Peter paused and looked at Tony, both apprehension and joy visible in his eyes. He flipped his hand over on his thigh, opening and closing his fist until his partner got the hint and clasped their hands together. “We want to do something soon since everyone is here. Maybe that’s a bit unorthodox but-“

“But so are we,” Tony joked lightly, nodding encouragingly at the younger man.

Peter’s cheeks flushed a soft pink as he laughed. “Well, there’s no denying that.” And it was okay to joke about it. Because none of his family would think there was anything out of the ordinary. They couldn’t. All they’d see and react to was their love. As they should. “But yeah, something...within a few days?” Maybe even less than that.

He wanted to have his dream wedding as soon as he finished what little planning was left.

And with his family surrounding him, everything was almost complete.

It was going to be perfect.

***

With his guest list prepared and everyone nearby, the ideal venue nailed down, and the other details listed out in his notebook, Peter could only think of one last thing that needed to be taken care of.

His vows.

Sure, it wasn’t mandatory for him to write his own. But he needed Tony to know just how strong his love was, and he wanted his words to be something personal rather than the generic cookie-cutter vows. He couldn’t let such a meaningful event go by without taking the opportunity to convey how much he truly loved the older man.

So Peter started on that last step, the words pouring out of him as he wrote them down. It felt as if he was putting his whole heart onto the paper, bearing it for all to see. Luckily, none of the people who would witness the fruits of his efforts would be judging him in any way.

No one other than himself, that was.

***

The night before the wedding found Peter puttering around the bedroom in one of Tony’s band t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants. He ran his hands through his already unruly hair, going down his mental checklist, when the older man walked in. “Hey T,” he sighed, smiling softly in his direction.

“You’re sure I can’t sleep in here tonight?” Tony pouted, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His overnight bag was on the floor by his feet, the garment bag containing his suit already out in the living room for him to grab on his way to one of the guest rooms. Where his soon-to-be husband was insisting he spend the night.

Peter chuckled under his breath and took a few steps so that he was standing in front of the other man. He draped his arms around Tony’s neck, looking down into his eyes. “I’m positive.” When the pout only deepened at his words, he rolled his eyes playfully. “It’s bad luck for you to see me before tomorrow, Tony! I’m serious- You are not to lay eyes on me until I’m making my way to the altar!”

“I don’t think that superstition counts if you’re not wearing a dress,” the sulky man pointed out, grumbling under his breath. He paused, frowning at Peter once more for good measure. “But fine,” he muttered after a moment, having accepted his fate when Peter’s expression didn’t change. “At least give me a kiss to hold me over, then?”

And who was Peter to say no to that?

He leaned down a little, closing the short distance between them as he pressed his lips to Tony’s quickly. Just a peck.

Of course, it couldn’t just stay a soft kiss with Tony. He was immediately trying to turn it into more, pulling Peter closer and nipping at his bottom lip enticingly.

Despite the way his stomach swooped at the sensation, the younger man pulled away, laughing softly. “No, no. That’s not going to work. Don’t even try that.”

Tony hummed, a slightly smug look on his face. He seemed to know just what kind of reaction he’d elicited. “Don’t try what? I can’t say I know what you mean, Pete...”

Peter laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re impossible. You know that?” He kissed the older man gently one more time before sitting down on the bed beside him. Letting his head lean to the side to rest his temple on Tony’s shoulder, he let out a deep breath, just enjoying the warmth of the innocent contact.

“It’s one of my best qualities,” Tony shot back playfully, his own head tilting to lean on the top of Peter’s. He slowly stood up after a moment, stretching his back and rotating his torso a few times. He cast a look in the teen’s direction. “But fine, I’m going now. To that cold, empty guest room. Where I’ll sleep all alone,” he said dramatically, throwing his head back slightly with a flourish. He bent over to scoop his bag up from the ground and took a step away from the bed.

Despite knowing that his partner was joking, Peter couldn’t help the way his chest grew tight. He didn’t want to actually go to sleep without Tony. Just the thought caused his heart to lurch with panic and made him want to cry. He didn’t want to be away from him at all, not even in their current situation. Traditions be damned. “Tony...”

Turning around, the taller man raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” He caught the look in the other’s eyes and immediately turned around to face him, taking a small step closer. “Peter? What is it, what’s wrong, baby? Is it what I said? I’m just joking, Pete, it’s okay. I’m sor-”

Peter shook his head rapidly. He sniffed softly to try and lessen the stinging sensation in the back of his nose. “No, no don’t be sorry Tony, I know you’re kidding. But- Can you maybe…,” he trailed off, blinking a few times against the moisture that was building up. His eyes locked on Tony’s before darting away.

God, why was he so anxious and upset? Literally all he needed to do was tell Tony that he’d changed his mind.

“I just- Can you stay, maybe?” He chanced a look back at Tony, who was nodding with the expression of someone who had just been asked what they thought was a ridiculously easy question.

“Of course, babydoll,” Tony said, dropping the small duffel to the floor and pulling the young man into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the side of his head and squeezed him tight for a moment. “C’mon, let’s go to bed, we can cuddle for a while.” He smiled softly as they pulled away from each other, ducking down quickly to touch his lips to Peter’s. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

***

Everything went smoothly after that. The couple slept soundly, snuggled together all night long with Peter’s head pressed up against Tony’s chest.

And they stayed that way for a while after waking, whispering to each other in the morning light. The two didn’t separate until it was absolutely necessary and they needed to get ready, lest they be late to their own wedding.

Everyone made their way to the venue (although the rest of them would have believed they traveled by car, Peter knew that all he’d done was shift the scene) and settled in their appropriate areas to get ready.

It was getting close to starting time and no one had seen Peter yet. So May decided that it could be a good time for her to fully immerse herself in the illusion once again.

“Not getting cold feet, are you?” She asked gently as she stepped into the room that was serving as the 'bridal' suite. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight that greeted her.

Peter was standing in front of the full-length mirror, his back to the door. His hair was curled haphazardly on top of his head, effortlessly beautiful, a few pieces falling down into his face as he fussed with the white button-up and black vest he was putting on to go with his dark tailored trousers

She was suddenly struck with the memory of watching a much smaller boy get himself ready for a funeral, staring at himself in the too-large suit jacket that had been her husband’s just a few days prior.

Just a little boy playing dress up, trying to be a man.

Peter’s head jerked up at the sound of her voice, and she realized that her sudden appearance must not have fit exactly with his script for this scene.

He made eye contact with her in the mirror, finishing up the last button on his shirt. An excited yet nervous smile tugged at his lips. “What? Of course not.” The tone of his voice suggested that he thought it silly, the notion that he’d ever second guess marrying Tony. That it was a decision he would happily make without thinking at all.

And in her opinion, he kind of was.

The woman held back her reservations and gave him a gentle smile, coming to help with the tie that was hanging undone around his neck. “I’m glad to hear that, bubby.” At least, that’s what she was going to lead Peter to believe. She still didn’t approve, illusion or not.

It was only partially due to the fact that the other party involved was Tony Stark. Her dislike, bordering on apathy, for the man was no secret. He’d gotten her nephew, her baby, killed further away from home than she’d ever even imagined possible. But not before whisking him away on a covert mission to Germany, then abandoning him after burdening him with what was an absurd amount of responsibility for even a grown man. Peter had come clean about everything after he returned from the Blip.

She never forgot the way she felt when she saw the video of Peter being dragged into space by that creature, the panic of not being able to get in touch with him.

Nor the way Tony Stark had shown up on her doorstep, haggard and unkempt, after dodging her calls for weeks. How he wasn’t able to even look her in the eye as he confirmed what she already knew- That her baby wasn’t coming home, that he’d been taken away from her without the chance to say goodbye. The chance to tell him that he was enough, that he didn’t need to save the world to be worthy. That he was her world.

She’d come to a sort of peace about it all after the Blip was reversed. She never absolved Stark of the role he played in Peter’s death, but she was able to reconcile it with the fact that he sacrificed his own life to restore those of half of the world’s population.

With that, she believed that she’d never have to see him again. He was gone. And that was just fine with her.

Yet he was still haunting her. The very man who she felt was at fault for robbing her of five years with Peter was causing her nephew to break, to get lost in his own mind. The ass was dead, but he was still managing to screw things up.

Because even the near-peace she felt she had reached towards the man didn't mean she was okay him marrying, or even dating, her underage nephew. Sure, Peter was the age of consent in New York, but that was just a technicality. She kept having to remind herself that none of it was real, but rather an extremely detailed fantasy that she was experiencing secondhand.

She was definitely going to talk to Peter about the relationship once the whole thing was over. He had to know that none of it was possible in the real world.

Peter couldn’t let go. He’d already lost so much, she could see that he couldn’t bear to lose this too. Not at the moment. It was the one place he felt safe and happy, after not feeling either of those things for who knew how long.

And May was forced to watch helplessly from the side.

She could see that he was different. Even if what she saw wasn’t his physical body, there was a look in his eyes that broke her heart. It was almost wild as he frantically grasped at pieces of his reality, unhinged. But his eyes also held a dullness that she hadn’t seen in a long time. One she’d hoped to never see again.

The same look she’d seen on that newly orphaned little boy’s face on the way home from the service, in the faraway expression on the lanky teen that had lost yet another person he loved.

She had to keep reminding herself of the plan. She had to play along to the best of her abilities and keep Peter happy until she could convince him to shut the illusion down and come home.

Everything in her wanted to beg him to just give up this mess and come home to her already. She’d barely had him back before he was gone again, this time of his own accord. But she knew that she couldn’t. Not yet. She just had to play along.

Hopefully not for much longer.

The woman directed her attention back to Peter after pushing the thoughts away. “It’s about time to get this show on the road, isn’t it?” She didn’t want to give him away. Even if it was just for this fantasy of his. It felt like she was losing him entirely to the world he’d created in his mind.

Peter nodded slowly, hands fidgeting nervously with his clothes. “Yeah, almost. I should probably start...heading out there, huh? Although it’s not like things can start without me,” he joked softly.

May figured that much was definitely true. “Yeah, I guess you should. And I should too. I’ll be right there, bubby. Right next to Ben and your parents.” The words felt wrong to say. No matter how badly either of them wanted it, Mary and Richard were never going to be there to see him get married. Neither was her Ben.

But there they were anyways. Saving a seat for her.

She wasn’t sure if it was any better than sitting beside three empty seats, reserved for people incapable of occupying them.

***

There was an easy smile on Peter's face as he looked around, heart pounding. It was nearly time for it to really begin. Almost time to finally make his way down the aisle.

He was really going to marry the man of his dreams. He was gonna marry Tony Stark.

Then the scene began shifting, the walls slowly disappearing from around him.

His heart nearly stopped. He was worried that the whole thing was all falling apart, melting away right before his eyes. Panic bloomed in his chest. But he was still in control, evidenced by the small bouquet of flowers he thought into existence on a whim, so he didn’t understand what could possibly have been happening.

When the smoke (or pixels, technically) cleared and he could finally work out his surroundings again, he felt tears stinging his eyes as his breath caught in his throat.

It wasn’t the huge, extravagant venue from before. Not even close. Gone was the large ballroom, striking in its opulence. There was nothing grand or luxurious about what he saw now but it felt so much more like them. It was perfect.

All around Peter was a bright, plush green meadow dotted with pastel-colored wildflowers. Tall trees surrounded the perimeter of the clearing, separating them from the rest of the world. Sunlight shone through the foliage in scattered beams, casting everything in an ethereal glow. The air was sweet and calm, instantly calming his nerves.

Turning his head, he saw that he was standing on the porch of a small log cabin. May was standing in the entryway, watching him with wide eyes. It warmed his heart to see how emotional she was, how much she cared about him and his happiness.

And just a few yards away was the ceremony. Tony was already standing in front of the makeshift altar with Uncle Ben, eyes shining as he watched Peter. He smiled softly before biting his lip and winking, the actions at odds with the way he brought a hand up in a slight wave before clasping them both in front of him. His thumbs wrestled with each other, twiddling back and forth.

Peter recognized the gesture as something his lover did when he was feeling nervous about something and trying to hide it.

Too bad Peter knew most of his tells.

The young man smiled from the steps as he began descending them, stepping down into the lush grass in a few strides.

He caught movement out the corner of his eye and he watched as a small pastel yellow butterfly landed on the wildflower bouquet clutched in his left hand.

A soft laugh bubbled up from Peter’s chest. He just couldn’t help himself. He thought he’d had what he wanted, but what he ended up with was so much better than he could have imagined. It was absolutely magical.

He turned around slightly when he heard May come to stand beside him.

“You ready, baby?” Her eyes were shining wetly behind her glasses, the wind gently blowing the skirt of her lilac colored dress.

Nodding, Peter took a deep breath and clutched at his aunt’s hand. “I’m getting married, May,” he said quietly, awestruck and wide eyed as they started making their way to the altar, unable to help the teary smile on his face.

May sniffled and squeezed his hand. “Yeah, you are, bubby.” Her voice was soft, but he could hear the slight wobble she was trying to hide. “You make sure he treats you right, okay?”

“I know he will,” Peter assured her, turning to look at the older man as they walked, the song of the birds in the trees serving as the wedding march. “Tony would never do anything to hurt me.”

May just hummed softly in response, locking eyes with Ben as they reached the beginning of the trail of brightly colored petals leading up to the altar, which had the same blooms intertwined with the lattice of the thin sticks it was composed of. She choked out a wet laugh when the man just grinned and winked at her.

Peter felt something give in his chest at the interaction, struck by the familiarity, and he clutched the bouquet tighter in his hand when Tony’s eyes met his.

The teen didn’t look away once until he and May came to a stop in front of the two men.

His aunt pressed her lips to his cheek in a kiss, squeezing his hand one last time and taking the bouquet from him before going to sit down beside his parents, who were seated on a wooden bench a few feet away from them.

Ben took a small step forward to knock his elbow against Peter’s. “You ready, champ?” His eyes searched the boy’s as the younger nodded. “Great,” he said softly, grinning as he moved back to his spot, glancing at Tony before turning to his family.

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of the two men standing in front of me, Peter and Tony. To celebrate their love. Which is something I’m fortunate enough to know a thing or two about, myself. My May, our love and the wonderful life I’ve been able to share with her, that’s the most special thing I’ve ever experienced, and I’m overjoyed that Peter has found his own soulmate.”

Peter sniffled, tears already stinging in his eyes, despite the fact that they’d just gotten started. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, fingers twitching restlessly.

“I’ll be reading some traditional vows, but first, Tony and Peter have some words they’d like to share with each other. You're up first, right Pete?” Ben turned his head toward the younger man.

The teen nodded at his uncle and looked down at his feet, taking a deep breath before lifting his head up and gazing deeply into the eyes of the man he was about to marry.

"Tony," he said, voice cracking. "I've spent hours trying to figure out what I wanted to say to you, but nothing I came up with seemed good enough. And I realized that nothing ever would be, and that all I could do was try my best to show you how much I love you. And that's just it, that's exactly what I'm going to spend the rest of our life doing. So I- Tony, I promise to always do my best, to be the best man that I can. Because you and your love are the best thing that will ever happen to me." He took a shaky breath, steeling himself for his next words. “And I know that nothing is stronger than our love for each other.”

The older man gazed at him, eyes alight with adoration. “I’ll be the first to admit that I never really believed in true love. Had I felt love, even been in love before? Yeah, of course. But none of that ever felt predestined, none of it felt like fate. None of that was inevitable.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “But then I met you, Pete. And you completely turned my world upside down. You changed everything.”

A soft sound slipped from Peter’s lips, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent it from happening again. “Tony,” he said tearfully, the sound muffled by his palm.

His love just shook his head and shot him a wobbly smile. “It’s true, baby. You are what was always missing, that thing that I never knew I needed, but now know I cannot live without. And I’ll continue to do whatever is necessary to ensure that I never have to. You’ll never want for anything, physically or emotionally. I vow to give you all of me, everything that I am. Because you’re it for me, Peter.” The tears escaping his eyes did nothing to take away from the lopsided grin that overtook his face. “This right here...this is my endgame.”

Peter’s mouth was open before he could stop it. “I love you,” he blurted as he reached out to grab the older man’s hand, biting back a sob. “Tony I love you so much-,” he rushed out.

Tony chuckled, the hand Peter wasn’t holding moving up to cup his cheek and swipe away the tear that was rolling down his skin. “I love you too, baby.”

It was quiet, everyone touched as the love between the two of them was put on display.

“And I guess it’s my turn now.” Ben cleared his throat after a moment in an attempt to get rid of the lump that had formed there. “If you’ll take out the rings, please.” He waited as the men each pulled a thin gold band from their pockets. "Do you, Peter Benjamin Parker, take this man, Anthony Edward Stark, to be your lawfully wedded husband-"

"I do, you know I do," Peter choked out through his tears, unable to keep himself from interrupting yet again. He reached out for Tony’s hand and clumsily slid the metal onto his ring ringer. The chuckles that followed caused a red flush to take over his face, but he held fast to his statement. Of course he did, Tony was the most important person in his life. Getting to marry him and spend the rest of their days together was a dream come true. He wasn’t sorry about it at all.

His uncle just shook his head, smiling fondly at his excitement. "Alright, hold your horses, Pete- And do you, Anthony Edward Stark, take this man, Peter Benjamin Parker, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" He paused there, eyes shining as he playfully glanced at Tony as if he were going to interrupt as well.

Tony just bit back a smirk, eyes moving from Ben back to Peter. His hands squeezed at the younger man’s, and his eyes twinkled in the afternoon light that came through the trees.

Ben continued once it was clear that the man was going to keep quiet until it was his turn to speak. "To have and to hold from this day forward? To love and to cherish for better or worse, for richer or poorer, through sickness and in health, til death do you part?"

“I do,” Tony answered, not breaking his gaze at Peter as he spoke. Then he did look away, taking both of Peter’s hands in his to place the ring on his finger, running his thumb over it once it was in place.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mr. Stark. You may now kiss your husband.”

Their lips met before the sentence was even finished.

***

Peter laughed as he was lifted into the air, not fighting it as Tony grabbed him bridal-style and carried him into the cabin he had exited earlier. “What are you doing?” His giddiness was apparent in his voice.

“What? I’m carrying you over the threshold,” Tony told him with a grin. “It’s traditional. I was under the impression that you were all for traditions.” He carried his husband through the doorway, leaning down to kiss him gently.

They were officially husbands.

As their lips met, the scene began shifting again.

The soft, homey feel of the cabin slowly melted away, a more sophisticated room developing around them. It was almost like watching instant film develop, though much faster. The sounds of family and nature slowly ceased. All that mattered was Tony and their kiss. The way Tony’s slightly chapped lips were moving against his.

When they finally parted again and opened their eyes the setting was completely changed.

Tony didn’t seem to notice, carrying Peter over to the plush white bed and setting him down. His eyes drank in the way the teen looked in the evening light, bathed in the pinks and purples of the sunset outside. “I think this will be a wonder to sleep on tonight. As well as...other things,” he said suggestively.

Peter laughed, shaking his head as he glanced around the room. The bed was huge, a california king like the one in the penthouse, with crisp sheets and topped with a down comforter that swallowed him up like a cloud as he lay on top of it. Two of the walls were almost completely glass, reminding him of their bedroom and making him feel at home in the luxurious setting.

It was way nicer than anything he’d ever actually been in, except maybe for the hotel they’d stayed in on their ‘retreat’ to Berlin. But this time he wasn’t down the hall from Tony, they were sharing a room. Sharing a bed. And it was perfect. His blood thrummed in his veins. “Oh yeah? That’s some pretty big talk. You sound like you have plans.”

The older man hummed, crawling onto the bed with his husband after kicking his shoes off and leaving them to land on the plush dark gray carpet. “I just might. Would you be interested in hearing them?”

“Hmm. Perhaps I could be persuaded.” Peter stretched out on the bed, stroking one hand through Tony’s hair as the man leaned his forehead against his chest, pressing a kiss over his heart. “Of course I wanna know, I’m just teasing.” One of his hands came up to grab at Tony’s hair.

Tony nodded, a soft hum escaping his lips as he moved up closer in order to kiss Peter again. He shifted and nudged a knee between the young man’s thighs to support himself as he hovered over his body. The kiss deepened, mouths moving together sensually before they pulled apart to breathe, only to reconnect seconds later, neither of them wanting to part any time soon.

They could leave the talking and just do. Following the way they felt, using their bodies to communicate with each other, was so much better than talking it out, anyways. There was no second-guessing, no pausing to try and get the words right.

Their bodies stayed intertwined the rest of the night, the newlywed husbands hardly parting from each other once.

And nothing was going to break them apart.

Til death do us part, their vows claimed.

But not even death was strong enough to do such a thing.

[kurodachimagic]

Chocolate and Cherries - Chapter 1

Summary: When Adachi falls into the arms of a kind stranger his life changes for the better.

Rating: Pg 13

Tags/warnings: Fluff, getting together, au, Writer Adachi, Chef Kurosawa.

Word count: 6.2k

A/n: This story was written for the cherry magic mini bang! Thank you @hiwatari-art for inviting me to join! Had a lovely time working with you as always. Thank you to my other artist over on twitter guacagabs. The entire story is being posted right now. Thank you to @schnaf for being a great friend and beta!

Read on ao3

Adachi dragged his feet on the pavement as he made his way home from work. He was already too exhausted to start his writing day with the best mindset but it would have to do. He’d already skipped four days this week and if he didn’t actually sit down to work on his book, it would never be published. He let out a deep sigh and shook his head slightly.

The situation was not ideal by any means, he was not great at cooking and it was already too late to start dinner, but he definitely needed to eat something or his mind would absolutely quit on him, he knew that much.

Adachi knew he should probably get something healthier but he refused to waste even more time walking to the store, so he decided to stop by the food cart near his flat for his usual emergency menu: two tuna onigiris with mayo - along with a can of soda in the hopes that the caffeine would boost his creativity. He was not too happy about it, but he didn’t have much time to contemplate his choice because as soon as he had paid, the first few droplets of water hit his shoulders. Looking up, he felt the next few drops hit his nose and his forehead. He cursed inwardly and simply took off awkwardly running the last few blocks home, trying his best not to slip and fall, his dress shoes nothing but a hazard in this particular situation.

The building door was so close, he could see it through the pouring rain; just a few meters and he would be home. Adachi rushed, his hand extended already to grab at the door handle when his body collided with something - someone - and fell backwards. It was as if time had slowed down; he could see the face of the person he ran into frozen in shock, his eyes widening as he saw Adachi falling, while Adachi could only think about the pain this would cause him, physical, yes, but mostly emotional. He always managed to get himself in embarrassing situations and now -

His neighbour extended his hand just in time to catch Adachi’s and pulled him upright effortlessly, his expression switching from shock to a relieved smile. “Are you ok? I’m so sorry, I hadn’t seen you.”

“Thank you! I’m so sorry,” Adachi said, feeling the heat rise to his face, partly because of his clumsiness and partly because his neighbour had not let go of him yet. In fact, Adachi could have sworn that the guy was rubbing his thumb on the back of his hand. He didn’t know what to do, so he tried again. “Uh, sorry. I should’ve been more careful.”

“It’s ok, I’m glad that you didn’t get hurt.” The man seemed to suddenly remember they were standing in the pouring rain and pulled Adachi to the door. “Come, you’ll catch a cold in this weather.”

No matter how hard he thought, Adachi couldn't remember ever catching his name but he had seen this man before in the elevator and in some of the common areas. He seemed to be a bit of a recluse, much like himself.

The man opened the door and finally let go of his hand before ushering him in. “After you, Adachi.”

Adachi’s eyes widened; he didn't know how the man knew his name, but he didn’t mention it. He walked inside and called the elevator, followed closely by his saviour. Once the doors opened, he stepped in and turned around, pressing the button for the fifth floor and finally facing the man. "Thank you, again…" he trailed off.

"Kurosawa. My name is Kurosawa." He pressed the fourth-floor button.

Adachi smiled and bowed to him. "It was nice seeing you, Kurosawa. Have a good night."

The elevator dinged and Kurosawa bowed with a smile before exiting. “Good night, Adachi,” he waved.

Adachi hesitantly waved back as the elevator doors closed. Before he knew it he was one floor up, opening the door to his flat, throwing his work bag on the sofa and taking his wet clothes off with a groan before going to the bathroom.

What a day. Not only had he stayed late to finish on that project Urabe had handed to him but he also made himself look like a fool in front of his very cool neighbour, and to add insult to injury now he needed a hot shower to hopefully avoid catching a cold. He shook his head and hopped under the stream, washing himself thoroughly and letting the hot stream relax his muscles.

Feeling in a bit of a better mood, Adachi got out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel and went about getting into a comfy set of pyjamas. He finally sat at his desk and opened the white doc of doom, checking the time and cursing as he realized it was 9 pm already. He slouched in his chair, throwing his head back with a groan. This book was going to take a million years at this rate, he really needed to prioritize his schedule, put on some good hours into it each day, especially during the weekend, he needed to -

Adachi’s stomach growled loudly, reminding him that his emergency dinner laid abandoned in its bag. He got up and stomped over to the sofa, unwrapping the onigiris and eating them without so much as a thought before returning to his spot. He promptly sat down to continue with the daily task of staring at the document while he begged his brain to type something - anything - out. But his mind had other plans though, Kurosawa’s face and gentle smile kept popping in his mind. Maybe it was because of the way he moved, how he had kept him from falling with his sharp reflexes, or maybe it was how elegant he looked even when he was soaking wet, how well his suit fitted him. Kurosawa was like some sort of superhero, or… no, he was more like a Prince Charming from an epic battle world. That was a start - it was not the murder mystery he had thought about, but it was definitely a start.

The sound of Adachi’s footsteps worked like a metronome, helping his mind settle into a rhythm. He was starting to see things in more detail: The brave prince paced in his castle, his sword close by his side, the problems his kingdom was facing were almost too much to bear and with his father on the brink of death, it was all on him. A shadow appeared above the citadel - the… the… ‘kingdom x’ was being attacked by a three-headed dragon. How would he fix this and save his people? Had someone sent the dragon or did it act with free will? Did the soon-to-be king have secret magic powers? Maybe they were a secret even to himself!

With renewed energy and excitement, Adachi sat down to work. This new world just wanted to be written, to become a reality, and he was not going to stop it. Aided by the occasional sip of soda and a few “stretching breaks” that were more like actual pacing, he managed to draft four thousand words by 5 am, effectively breaking his 3 thousand word record from just a few months ago. If he could keep up the pace he could finish the book within the next month and send it to Tsuge for editing and review. He sent a quick text to his friend to tell him the good news and got into bed; he would probably regret staying up so late tomorrow, but now he didn’t have it in him to care. Writing was definitely his call - even if he was very close to missing his goal of being a published author by 30.

---

The commute to work was nothing short of hell. The morning started with Adachi missing his usual train and having to take the next one during rush hour - not that he ever managed to avoid rush hour, but he usually took the first train during it so it wasn’t as crazy as later in the morning. This resulted in him having a very unpleasant ride, squeezed half to death between the sea of people, feeling like a canned sardine with a bad case of insomnia. That was the other issue, the previous writing night ended up being a success but even though he’d been exhausted by the time he was done, it had been impossible to fall asleep. Now he was on his way to a long workday with a pounding headache and a sour mood. If given the opportunity, Adachi would’ve chosen to take the day off to sleep and feel refreshed enough by sundown to continue writing.

His job was definitely a necessary evil, but sometimes he couldn’t help but resent it. On the verge of thirty, Adachi spent most of his day at the office, writing his reports, Urabe’s reports, and occasionally picking up the slack of some of his colleagues. There was barely any time for hobbies or relaxing and least of all to be an aspiring writer. To be completely honest, Adachi had started viewing his day job as his second career in the past year. His heart and soul were focused on his new goal, what he really wanted. In the end, if writing didn’t become his main income, it wouldn’t matter, he was passionate enough about it to continue no matter what. After all, living in the fantasy worlds he created was more than enough for him.

Adachi made it to his desk just on time, but running those last few blocks only served to make his mood even sourer. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with a small huff, still thinking about his writing and leaned back in his chair until it touched Urabe’s shoulder, startling him.

He turned around swiftly, blush already rising to his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Senpai.”

Urabe nodded and waved him off. Then, he cocked his head and looked at Adachi in more detail. “What is going on with you, Adachi? You look tired.”

“I just had trouble sleeping last night, that’s all,” Adachi said with a heavy sigh. He could picture so many things he would rather do than give explanations about his personal life, but he would feel too guilty if he was rude to Urabe when he was only worried about him.

“Hmm, are you sure that’s all?”

“Yes. I’m ok.” He attempted his best smile. “Thank you for asking.”

“Adachi,” Urabe pouted, his brows burrowed into a childish frown, just like every time he would ask Adachi to take on more work, any semblance of concern already gone out the window. “Can you finish this report for tomorrow? The boss is really piling stuff on my shoulders and I already had other plans for today.”

Sometimes Adachi wished he was a bad person, or a bad colleague even, but he couldn’t help taking on the extra work when it was needed, after all, he didn’t have much of a life. He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Oh, wait. Is your birthday today or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“And you’re turning 30, right?”

Adachi nodded once again, hoping to end the conversation as soon as possible; he didn’t want to be reminded of the passage of time or how much he hadn’t achieved by now.

Urabe rolled his chair closer and elbowed him. “Aaah, you sly weasel. Do you have a date?”

“Of course not. I’m just looking forward to getting home and sleeping.” That was literally his birthday plan.

Urabe frowned and gave him a quizzical look. “But you have... ‘dated’ before, right?” He winked.

Adachi shook his head slightly and saw the same look many people gave him, a mix of pity and judgement.

“You should ask one of the girls out. I’ve heard Yui is single and she’s very pretty!”

Adachi slowly turned his chair towards the copy machine and saw Yui across the room. She was, in fact, very pretty, but… she didn’t spark anything in him. She looked like a work of art, pleasant to look at, but not for him. “No, I don’t think that would work.”

“Adachi, if you don’t date someone by the time you turn 30, you will turn into a wizard!” He whispered.

“What? That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s true, you’ll see!”

Adachi rolled his eyes and turned back to his desk, finally starting on the reports needed. The sooner he was done with that, the sooner he could return to his writing.

--

The elevator opened its doors for Adachi and the ding that followed made his muscles relax instantly. Only a few more minutes and he would be up in his flat, taking his shoes off and cooking something quick before sitting down to write. He felt inspired by the beginning of this new story and he wasn’t about to let a bad day at work ruin that for him.

Just as the doors started to close, someone put a bag between them to keep them open. The first thing Adachi saw was a girl with a cute and gentle look, a black wispy fringe framing her face and a sweet smile. She nodded at Adachi and he smiled and nodded back. He wondered if he would ever date a girl like her, if sharing his life with a partner and doing things together would be so different than what he did now. The answer was probably not, since he assumed nobody would be supportive of him working all day and writing all night; if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really have time for a relationship, even if he sometimes yearned for a bit of company - theoretically. Adachi blinked repeatedly, suddenly crashing back into reality when he saw the looming presence of Kurosawa behind her, giving him a weird look he couldn’t quite place as he ushered the girl into the elevator.

Out of sheer awkwardness, Adachi nodded and mumbled a quiet hello at him, looking away as a blush crept onto his cheeks. Was that Kurosawa’s girlfriend? He groaned and let his head fall back against the elevator wall. He’d been caught staring at his neighbour’s girlfriend like a creep. He ventured a sideways glance and realized Kurosawa was still looking at him with a weird expression.

Thankfully, the ride was short and only a minute later, Adachi was home, barely paying any attention to his basic needs as per usual. He made some instant ramen and added a bit of egg to it before eating it mindlessly, daydreaming of his new story and the magic system involved.

Perhaps it was quickly becoming a much more ambitious project than he had anticipated but as long as the writing flowed, everything would be ok. What was supposed to be a long writing session soon turned into an early night after Adachi’s brain decided to shut down mid-sentence, putting him to sleep sitting at his desk, his head hanging down and his spine hunched over.

[jawsofhakkontranscript]

Ameridan’s End: Assault the Jaws of Hakkon

(Previous quest - On Ameridan's Trail)

Main questline: Ameridan’s End: Assault the Jaws of Hakkon

This is the first part of "Ameridan's End" questline.

Characters involved: Svarah Sun-Hair, Lace Harding, Bram Kenric, Gurd Harofsen

Preparations are in place to wage assault on the Jaws of Hakkon and search for Inquisitor Ameridan.

Part 1: Speak with Svarah Sun-Hair

Svarah: When you are ready, you have our blades, Inquisitor.

Dialogue options:

Special: Hakkon connects to Ameridan. [1] (If both “Storvacker Caged” and “What Yet Lingers” have been completed.)

General: Let us begin the assault. [2]

[1] Special: Hakkon connects to Ameridan.

PC: You said that the Jaws of Hakkon first tried binding their god in mortal form hundreds of years ago?

Svarah: What of it?

PC: In our search for Inquisitor Ameridan, we learned that he came here to fight a great dragon 800 years ago… A dragon that came from the mountains with Avvar warriors to attack the lowlands.

Svarah: (Laughs.) Your last Inquisitor must have fought well to stop Hakkon himself! [3]

[3] Subsequent dialogue options:

Investigate: This is all right with you? [4]

Investigate: Does this happen often? [5]

[4] Investigate: This is all right with you?

PC: You're not bothered by the idea that our Inquisitor killed your god?

Svarah: He didn't kill him. That would have been easier. Whatever fight your Inquisitor finished, the Jaws of Hakkon started. I find no fault with a warrior defending his people. [Back to 3]

[5] Investigate: Does this happen often?

PC: Do the Avvar gods take mortal form on a regular basis?

Svarah: No. The gods belong in the land of dreams. Whether it is their wish—or some augur's—that brings them here, battle-tears will be shed. The skalds say the Lady of the Skies took mortal form when Tyrdda Bright-Ax first led the Avvar to the mountains. They say many things about Bright-Ax and the Lady. [Back to 3]

[2] General: Let us begin the assault.

PC: I'm ready to attack the Jaws of Hakkon.

Svarah: Good. They will pay the blood-price for what they have done.

(Kenric and Harding enter the Thane's hall.)

Svarah: Your skald and your scout are here. We can plan the assault.

Kenric: Oh, I like the sound of "skald." It's more dramatic than "professor."

Harding: (Coughs.)

Kenric: Yes, well. Everything we've found about Inquisitor Ameridan suggests that he never emerged from that Tevinter fortress.

Svarah: If that is where your Inquisitor defeated Hakkon, that is where the Jaws of Hakkon must perform the rite to free him. [6]

[6] Dialogue options:

General: We can stop them. [7]

General: Or hopefully not. [8]

General: We have a target. [9]

[7] General: We can stop them.

PC: Inquisitor Ameridan saved the lowlands from an Avvar invasion. We cannot do any less. [10]

[8] General: Or hopefully not.

PC: Ideally, we stop them before that. I'd rather not fight an Avvar god if we don't have to. [10]

[9] General: We have a target.

PC: Good. We know where to strike. [10]

[10] Harding: You really have no problem with us killing your god?

Svarah: Gods cannot be reborn until they die. (Laughs.) Hakkon needs a good rebirthing.

Harding: If you say so.

Svarah: With its ice-wall melted, the fortress is open to attack. We must strike soon, before our foes recover.

Harding: They're already trying. I've got most of our forces defending the shrine from Hakkonites who want to restore the wall. [11]

[11] Dialogue options:

General: We're going to take losses. [12]

General: I'm open to ideas. [13]

General: A siege seems unlikely. [14]

[12] General: We're going to take losses.

PC: The fortress was built to be defensible. It's going to cost us a lot of people to take it.

Svarah: Why? [15]

[13] General: I'm open to ideas.

PC: If anyone has suggestions, now is the time.

Svarah: What gives you fear, Inquisitor? Is this not the battle you wanted? [15]

[14] General: A siege seems unlikely.

PC: We don't have time to drag siege equipment through the forest to take down those walls.

Svarah: A siege? Bah! We have no need of rock-throwers and rams. [15]

[15] Kenric: I am no warrior, but with Lady Harding's forces defending the shrine and no way to breach the walls...?

Svarah: (Laughs.) Lowlanders. Why not climb the walls?

Harding: Your warriors can get over those walls before the Hakkonites stop them?

Svarah: This is not a war, Stone-Daughter. This is a raid. We strike at night, clad lightly. We climb the wall and open the gate from inside. [16]

[16] Dialogue options:

General: We are in your debt. [17]

General: I guess this is our plan. [18]

General: Let's move. [19]

[17] General: We are in your debt.

PC: If Stone-Bear Hold can open the gates, we would be grateful.

Svarah: The Jaws of Hakkon have been bugs in my bedroll for months, Inquisitor. We owe you thanks. [20]

[18] General: I guess this is our plan.

PC: Well, then. Unless anyone has something that sounds easier than climbing the walls...?

Svarah: I would not offer what I could not give. It will be done. Perhaps my climbers will earn themselves a legend-mark! [20]

[19] General: Let's move.

PC: Agreed. How soon can we attack?

Svarah: As soon as the sun sets, Inquisitor. This will be a good night. [20]

[20] Harding: Inquisition forces will feign weakness near the shrine. That will draw some of them away from the fortress.

Kenric: Not too many, I hope.

Svarah: Yes. Save some for us!

Harding: (Nods.)

Part 2: Assault the gate.

(The Inquisition’s soldiers and the warriors from Stone-Bear Hold gather in front of the gate of the Tevinter ruin.)

Parve: Right, Inquisitor. Hask and I will climb over.

Hask: I'll be there to catch Parve when he slips.

Parve: 'Course you will. You'll be behind me, after all.

(These two are the same Avvar men who participated in the Test of the Lady - the climbing contest used for settling disputes - that took place when the Inquisition first arrived in Stone-Bear Hold - see “Avvar Allies” main quest.)

Hask (to Parve): 'Ware the guard.

Parve: I've got him.

(The Avvar sneak ahead and start climbing over the walls of the fortress. Meanwhile, the Inquisition leads the assault from the front to distract the Hakkonites.)

Male Hakkonite: There! It's the lowlanders!

Female Hakkonite: Kill the Inquisitor! Death to her/his hold, for Hakkon's glory!

(Storvacker joins the fight.)

Party comments:

Varric: Storvacker, good to see you again!

Dorian: And we have a bear. Hooray!

Sera: Eat them, not us! Got it?

Cole: I'm happy to see you, too!

Svarah Sun-Hair: Greetings from Stone-Bear Hold, you shit-eating goat-lovers!

(The climbers continue scaling the walls.)

Parve: Watch your grip. It slips a bit.

Hask: Bah, you can't grip anything more challenging than your mother's teat.

Parve: (Grunts.) I was aiming for his throat. We'd best hurry.

Hask: Nicely done.

Parve: Be ready, Inquisitor!

(The gate is opened from the inside by the climbers from Stone-Bear Hold.)

Hask: Lady take you, goat-lovers!

Parve (to the Inquisitor): As you please, Inquisitor.

Hask: I'd not tarry. More will be coming.

(Walk through the gate and defeat the Hakkonites defending the battlements.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: The Avvar were true to their word!

Iron Bull: Nice work, Stone-Bear Hold!

Blackwall: Your Avvar friends pulled it off!

Varric: Our Avvar friends came through!

Svarah Sun-Hair: We have your back, Inquisitor! Fight well!

Part 3: Find Inquisitor Ameridan’s resting place.

(Walk towards the Tevinter ruin.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: No sign of the dragon. It must be in there.

Cole: She doesn't want to be him. He doesn't want to be chained. Tied together, wracked and raging.

Solas: The ritual must be underway. There is a great deal of magical energy coming from the bottom of the crater.

(There are ice wards in the field between the gate and the main building. If destroyed, they freeze everyone in the vicinity.)

Party comments:

Dorian: Watch the wards! We can't afford to be slowed down!

Vivienne: Watch out for the ice wards! We cannot let them slow us!

Sera: Pissing freezing magic!

Solas: Beware the wards! They will sap your strength!

(An ice ward is destroyed.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: The ward is destroyed!

Iron Bull: How do you like that, frosty?

Blackwall: That should end the wards!

Cole: You can't freeze us!

(Enter the Old Temple. The interior is covered in frost.)

Party comments:

Vivienne: This frost is magical in nature. If we do not make haste, we will freeze to death.

Cassandra: This cold is magical in origin. It will kill us if we do not hurry.

Sera: We stay here, our bits will snap off. Get moving.

Solas: The cold is magical. It will kill us if we do not hurry.

Cole: This isn't real, but it still hurts. We have to be fast.

Dorian: Even colder than usual. This is magical. We need to keep moving.

Varric: This isn't natural. We'd better hurry, unless you like freezing to death.

(Stay by the fire to warm up.)

Party comments:

Sera: Better, right? Might even keep our toes.

Iron Bull: (Grunts.) Cold's not so bad here.

Varric: The cold isn't so bad here.

Cole: Yes. False cold, but the real fire keeps it away.

(Gurd Harofsen begins the ritual.)

Party comments:

Varric: We should probably hurry. There's no good kind of crazy ritual chanting.

Vivienne: They are performing the ritual. I suggest we hurry.

Solas: We must hurry. The ritual to free the spirit of Hakkon is underway.

Dorian: Sounds like they've already started the ritual. Best hurry, then.

(Gurd chants the Song of savage Hakkon.)

Sing the song of savage Hakkon, born in battle, bloody bladed.

Wintersbreath to wrack the lowlands, cold to cut and kill the hated.

Meet the might of Mountain-Father, crush the creed of Korth the callow.

Leave the Lady lost and lonely, scour the skies of spirits sallow!

Gurd Harofsen, called the Cutter, wyvern-slayer, lowland-bane

Begs of Hakkon, bring his body bloody blessings, cold and pain!

(The chant ends.)

Party comments:

Vivienne: The barbarian is allowing himself to be possessed by Hakkon!

Solas: The Hakkonite leader is calling the spirit of Hakkon into his own body!

Varric: Harofsen's summoning Hakkon into himself!

Dorian: He's summoning Hakkon into his own body!

Cassandra: Is he insane?

Iron Bull: Who does that? That's a terrible idea!

Blackwall: He's mad!

Sera: Don't care. Stupid gets arrows.

(A dragon can be seen in the distance.)

Party comments:

Sera: There's the dragon! It's... frozen or something?

Cole: The dragon. She's stuck, still, a statue. Hakkon is angry inside her.

Varric: There's the Hakkon dragon! At least it's not moving yet.

Iron Bull: There's the dragon! Long as it holds still like that, we should be all right.

(The fight begins. Gurd continues the ritual while being protected by Hakkonites.)

Party comments:

Vivienne: Hakkon is invulnerable until we disrupt those around him!

Solas: We cannot harm Hakkon until the ritual is disrupted!

Cassandra: We must disrupt the ritual first! Then Hakkon can be harmed!

Dorian: We have to take out the others! We can't hurt Hakkon until they're out!

(Gurd summons the spirit of Hakkon into himself and transforms into a revenant.)

Gurd: Face me and die, Inquisitor! Your predecessor could not stand against me. You shall fall as well! I am the cold bite of winter! I am Hakkon reborn! Death to the lowlanders!

(The revenant casts powerful ice spells.)

Party comments:

Sera: Ranged, right? Too cold up close!

Cassandra: The cold is worse near the creature!

Blackwall: The cold gets worse the closer you are!

Iron Bull: Careful! Cold's worse up close!

(During the fight, the revenant freezes the braziers as he loses health.)

Party comments:

Vivienne: He's putting out the fires!

Varric: Watch yourself! He's putting out the fires!

Dorian: The damn thing's dousing the fires!

Solas: Be careful! He's dousing the fires!

(Next quest - Ameridan's End: Talk to Ameridan)

[toxicpineapple]

Well, this year is coming to a close!!! Here are my favourite writings from the year 2020 :)

---

January:

“A penchant for looking at rocks”, the first ever Amamota fic I wrote (it’s been a long fucking year, haha) and another 5+1 things fic! Buckle down LGBTQ+ community because there are a lot of these, in fact I’m pretty sure I started off last year’s compilation with a 5+1 things fic? Anyway, this one was the five times Kaito helps Rantaro when he’s hurt, plus the one time Rantaro helps Kaito. I love me some good whump and I felt I had to choose this one because it’s one of my favourites just generally speaking.

Content Warnings: Injuries, tending to injuries, asthma attacks.

---

February:

“Ibuki Mioda’s Kisses”, which I wrote for day fourteen of Femslash February. Boy, if I thought I wrote a lot in January, just take a moment to peek at February 2020… I was churning out a fic daily for the entire month. I don’t regret it though! I got to write a lot of characters who I haven’t written a lot, and explore a whole lot of prompts, and if I can remove my head from my ass I fully intend on participating in Femslash February again next year. Ibuki Mioda’s Kisses is the piece I wrote for Valentine’s Day, which was my two year anniversary with my boyfriend, so I wanted to write something special commemorating our relationship. No idea how I’m going to top that in 2021, but uh, check out the fic! It’s cute and I like to think it’s clever.

Content Warnings: The Mortifying Ideal Of Discovering Oneself, secondhand embarrassment, bad kisses. (I mean in the sense that texturally they’re just, unpleasant. It’s about asexuality, alright.)

---

March:

“Adventure”, which I wrote for day five of Amasai Week, which was the first ship week I hosted and participated in in 2020! This was the longest piece that I wrote, and my favourite, just because I really really love the childhood friends trope, and I liked writing Shuichi and Rantaro as children, adventuring together and just having a fantastic time. Amasai Week actually took place while one of my parrots stayed overnight at the emergency vet after a fight with another one, so it was a pretty stressful time for me, but I’m proud of myself for completing it and looking forward to hosting Amasai Week again in 2020! Stay tuned, we’ve almost got the prompts worked out.

Content Warnings: None.

---

April:

“A couple of ghosts”, which is the fic I wrote for Kaito’s birthday! I see we’ve reached the part of 2020 where I met my abuser, which, yaaaaay, but also, I’m still really proud of this fic, despite how much I kind of associate it with him now! It’s the fic where I said, y’know what, no, we can’t have nice things, and gave Kaito a horrible, traumatic reason for his fear of ghosts, as well as two dead parents. It’s Saimota though and there’s a cute hurt/comfort scene at the end so go ahead and check it out if you want.

Content Warnings: Car accidents, minor character death, injuries, PTSD.

---

May:

“Are you down to play?”, the fic that I wrote for day four of Saimota Week, wherein Shuichi has a secret and Kaito makes a bet with Kaede to figure it out. Man, if you thought I had bad associations with the fic I chose for April, look at this one, haha. But it’s objectively the best writing piece I uploaded that month, I’m really proud of my characterisation and the scenes in the fic, and hopefully someday I’ll be able to read this piece without thinking about him. :)

Content Warnings: None! This one’s just a fluffy feel good fic.

---

June:

“Tamago kake gohan”, the Sonanami canon compliant hurt/comfort fic I wrote for my friend Void’s birthday. I put out a whopping three one shots in June because I’d really hit the swing of my roleplaying and hadn’t adjusted to it well enough to be writing fic at the same time yet, so, yeah. This one’s cute, though! Sonia is sad about Gundham and then Chiaki makes her some food. They’re sapphic.

Content Warnings: Canonical character death.

---

July:

“Good night”, the Amasai 5+1 things that I wrote for my friend Neb’s birthday! This is the five times Saihara slept in front of Amami, plus the one time Rantaro slept in front of Shuichi. It’s cute! They’re tender! It features the trope where you sleep in front of a loved one! I love that trope! And it’s Neb’s favourite so I had to go for it, hehe. These two are cute boys and they deserve to be happy.

Content Warnings: Breakdowns, nightmares. (But neither is from the narrator’s perspective.)

---

August:

“Making that dream come true”, the royalty AU Kaede and Rantaro become friends fic that I wrote while I briefly hyperfixated back on my royalty AU. I got into another writing groove during this time so I actually have a lot of really good fics up from August (including Mutual Vulnerability… Amamotas I’m sorry to have cucked you like this that fic was so damn good) but this one was my favourite. I love writing in first person, and I love writing platonic relationships, and someday I’m going to write the multichapter that this fic sets up for.

Content Warnings: Arranged marriages, and something else but it’s a secret, shhh.

---

September:

“A lot of firsts”, the Harumami fic I wrote for the first day of Amami Week, which is a personal writing challenge that I did this year to celebrate the week leading up to Amami’s birthday. September was a really dry writing month for me, partly because of the roleplay stuff and partly because of personal issues, but I’m still proud of the heteroeroticism (heh) in this one. Maki and Rantaro have chemistry, what can I say.

Content Warnings: Stab injuries (not from Maki to Rantaro, please).

---

October:

“October 3rd”, the second fic I wrote for Rantaro’s birthday, and also the Oumami fic that I wrote for day seven of Amami Week. I’m a fan of most of the fics I wrote in October (I wouldn’t gift someone a fic I’m not proud of and most of the fics I wrote, including this one, were gift fics) but this one is my favourite just because of the introspection, and also because of the fact that I got to write Ouma, because he’s always so much fun. I enjoyed writing the two of them going back and forth and have another Oumami fic on the way so stay tuned, haha.

Content Warnings: None.

---

November:

“It is what it is”, the fic I wrote for day four of Amamota week, which takes place when Rantaro is an adult, and out at a bar with his friends, where he meets Kaito and goes for a walk outside. It’s a melancholic piece for sure, but I like capturing those vibes with my fics, and I got to write a group interaction which is always one of my favourite things to do. Amamota is my biggest comfort pairing and I’m glad that I got to host Amamota Week this year, because I enjoy those two so much. :) Great chemistry.

Content Warnings: Recreational alcohol use (everyone is drinking legally and tentatively responsibly), general sad vibes idk.

---

December:

Okay, honestly, I haven’t posted anything yet this month aside from a vent, and since the vent I posted talks about my eating disorder and it’s not really very good writing anyway, I don’t feel comfortable putting it on this list. I have a multichapter holiday themed Oumami fic on the way that I will hopefully finish before the end of the year, as well as a fic I’m working on for a writing and art trade that I ABSOLUTELY need to get off my ass and work on, so those will hopefully be out by the end of 2020.

But yeah, that aside, that’s the complete list of my favourite fics from 2020. It’s been a long year and I’m glad to have stayed a member of the Danganronpa fandom through it. I really appreciate all the friends I’ve made, and the fun times I’ve had while I’ve been here.

2020 has treated me pretty terribly, haha. I met someone who I really wish I could’ve gone without, and my health has suffered, and I’m hoping to be able to start my recovery properly in 2021. Guess if I have a new year’s resolution, it’s to let go of what he did to me and start trying to get better. So I’m going to work on it! I can’t say that I think 2021 is going to be anybody’s year, but maybe it’s not about what the universe has in store for us so much as it is about what we make of it.

I hope everyone who reads this has a wonderful new year, I love you all dearly, thanks so much for the support and the laughs, and I’ll keep on hanging around and spreading my Amami propaganda.

Someone has to, haha.