#this was in my drafts for a few weeks and it got SO MUCH FUNNIER after just finishing episode 28

[rosemirmir]

Any turtle imagin born after 2007 can't cook, all they know is the denliner, charge their singularity point's phone, fish, be bisexual, drink coffee and lie

[aethercurrent]

If you've been around, I just finished Time Travel AU. If you're from AO3, you know what this post is and you can skip further down to read more. If you don't know what Time Travel AU is, it's a long FFXIV fanfic I've been working on for the better part of six years. Five and a half of which it's been online to read.

This post is to document some of the early plotting that I never talked about written down into a coherent-ish(?) post. Mostly to get it out of my system and to hopefully stave off the absolute breakdown I'll have once that "it's finished after six years" thing settles in.

Let's start this off with something funnier, because this a looooooooong post: the name.

(That isn't a word, for the record. I just mashed two nouns together to be funny.)

And then, finally, being a class clown at heart, I follow that up with:

It wasn't too long, and that joke that took me half a minute to come up with stuck around. It still makes me chuckle.

But, I suppose now we go back to a couple months before that conversation took place.

~

The first idea for the AU started rotating in my head a few days after finishing Shadowbringers. I’m kind of a sucker for time travel of any sort (a good chunk of my favourite media of all time includes it somehow!), and another thing I enjoy is enemies to “unfortunately, we’re on the same side for a while”.

So, as one does after a game thoroughly rearranges their brain, I started throwing darts at random points and saw what started sticking.

The first major things decided for the fic at that early conception stage were the following points:

the time travellers are WOL, Exarch, Ryne, Elidibus

the Final Days were caused by the star itself

Hythlodaeus (shade or real deal) is involved (maybe as 14th?)

Hydaelyn and Zodiark are non-violently undone by the end

it ends with a city by the Crystal Tower on the Source

I started drafting a few ideas for it over a couple weeks while waiting for 5.1.

Initially I genuinely wasn’t sure if the WOL in the story was going to be Meteor or my own WOL (every iteration of her has been in this fic, but when it started she was actually still a male Seeker… he’s the jumpy conjurer tagging along in the Praetorium; and the Dunesfolk, Highlander, and the Hrothgar are all obvious or hidden in the background, too). It took me a while before I settled on Meteor, mostly because I don’t want to ship her with NPCs, really. Also, Catboy Lahen was extremely jumpy and wouldn’t have been able to keep him being a time traveller and an Ascian secret for long. I needed someone made of sterner stuff, sorry Catboy Lahen.

The party was a proper light party at that stage, too, even before I settled on Meteor (Meteor / Ryne as tank, Exarch as healer, Ryne / Lahen and Elidibus as DPS)… and then dropped that once I started getting into the more detailed part of plotting.

By the time 5.1 rolled around I begrudgingly accepted that the WOL was going to be the 14th member of the Convocation, but I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t like that. I still don’t like it, actually. I would’ve liked the WOL being a genuine random soul choosing the road and becoming modern day Azem just as Venat and her successor were before them, instead of having it just be Venat’s successor 2 electric boogaloo.

I also finally accepted the clown’s nose and admitted that my favourite Ascian was Lahabrea because he was a good villain back when I started in the last couple days of 2014. I was disappointed that after how much Emet-Selch and Elidibus got and were getting throughout the end of Stormblood and Shadowbringers, Lahabrea still hadn’t gotten much of anything else. Yes. The first time I met one of my now better friends, she joined call for Endwalker fanfest and the first thing she ever heard from me was me straight up bursting into tears over FFIV references and Pandaemonium.

A few more plot points were also starting to come together:

I wanted Emet-Selch and Lahabrea as POV characters

Hythlodaeus definitely was going to be one as well

he was going to have sat by and watched all of history

he was going to be tempered by Hydaelyn and Zodiark

Unukalhai, if not a POV character, was going to be somewhat important

the party was going to try saving some NPCs who died (success rate varying)

Meteor’s characterisation started to crystallise a bit more

because of that, they were going to try and substantially alter the Steppe section

Lahabrea would be explosive early on, leading to him being taken out of 2.55

Minfilia vanished before she could catch on to Ascian shenanigans

Ysayle would catch on to that, though

It’s glossed over in the finished fic because it’s mostly irrelevant, but as I worked on on the plot draft more and more, I noticed that the party accidentally fit into the elemental chart rather neatly:

Lahabrea as lightning; most volatile and destructive party member

Emet-Selch as fire; also fairly temperamental and not easy to work with

Elidibus as wind; easier to handle but still fairly dangerous

Meteor as earth; unmoving object that can bury a lot of things if they want to

Exarch as water; that one was mostly a “river of time” joke, I won’t lie

Ryne as ice; it’s the closest to light and once she’s determined she’s unyielding

Hythlodaeus as light; absolute stasis due to his circumstances

Unukalhai as darkness; always on the move and always thinking

A lot of the character dynamic comes from that! Emet-Selch and Lahabrea don’t get along, Elidibus manages to get along with both of them. Ryne as the most interesting mortal out of the bunch as far as Emet-Selch is concerned stems from a fire and ice joke that ran away with me; him and the Exarch butting heads is a water and fire joke. The reason why Ryne was the one to surprise Elidibus comes from the fact that she’s a solid ice wall to his wind, and so on and so forth.

That’s also why Unukalhai remains closer to the Ascians to some degree, while Hythlodaeus has absolutely no qualms whatsoever interacting with mortals as long as his restrictions are adhered to even if he doesn’t like them in the end.

It became extremely less relevant as time went on, but a lot of the early fic can be traced to that elemental balance.

Along with the elemental balance of the team, I started working on the magic system for the Ancients. I was extremely stuck on the sidequests in Amaurot and how two of them dealt with the WOL not being able to use creation magicks. I thought it was interesting that it seemed as if the one making clothes didn’t use a concept crystal, while in one you were handed one to summon those funny slimes.

The final point was that you had to catch a cubus for one while you didn’t for the other.

So, eventually I came to the magic system in the fic. Three classes of magicks (body, soul, environment), and differing levels of innate ability and trained skill. Ironically, the three antagonist Unsundered all fit into three out of four extremes of that latter scale…

Then there was the question of what was considered “dark arts” before the Sundering. It wasn’t necessary, none of the main characters would be students of the dark arts, but it was a fun thought experiment. Eventually I came up with the idea to animate something inanimate with malicious intent. Living weapons, defensive automatons, sentient traps, and so on and so forth.

I started applying that to all of the relevant Ancients, and it was a lot more fun than I want to admit here.

Essentially what the concept crystals thing came down to in the end was a certain level of intricate casting and preservation. Lahabrea can create a flock of his birds effortlessly because he knows the concept inside out with all its details and intricacies, while someone trying to summon it themselves would have to use a crystal to get the details right. That’s also why most of the time the Ascians don’t seem to be using concept crystals—they aren’t creating much, and when they are it’s things they already know how to make.

Actually, I dug out the notes on the innate/trained scale. There’s a lot of things that are irrelevant for the fic on that, but let me write down the most relevant ones:

Emet-Selch: soul; high innate/low trained

Lahabrea: body; high innate/high trained

Elidibus: environment; low innate/high trained

Hythlodaeus: soul; high innate/not trained

Alexis (Meteor’s ancient): environment/dark arts; low innate/medium trained

Igeyorhm: body; medium innate/high trained

Minfilia: body; low innate/low trained

Venat: environment; medium innate/high trained

Rafael (previous Elidibus): soul; low innate/high trained

There was also the question of what to do with Ancients in general. True, we had the shades in Amaurot as a general idea, but just like with Azem above, I wasn’t a fan of the featureless or just “human” thing. I still am not, for the record. I think it’s goofy to have everyone be proto-Hyurs and then post-Sundering we suddenly have Hydaelyn give some people a goddess-assigned fursona. And that’s coming from someone who previously played a Hyur, for the record!

But just like how magic focused on the elements specifically instead of the broader strokes, I decided that in ancient times there would be one term for the different tribes. I tried to handwave the shades away with making the region around Amaurot the ancestral home of proto-Hyurs… and then only had one of them in the party. Oops!

Overall, my thought process was to address the weird lore bit that apparently interracial relationships are frowned upon in Eorzea. I mostly wanted to… not… have that apply for ancient times because it’s fucking weird. Not gonna call it anything other than that.

From there, it was as simple as… naming everything and everyone, giving them a place they come from, and… oh god I wrote so much stuff that never came up just so it stayed internally consistent y’all, I almost don’t want to talk about it.

The main notes on that are in Astral Scions, Umbral Sinners I, but to recap:

Hyurs were Amaurotines

Elezen were Atlanteans

Miqo’te were Children of Sirius

Lalafell were Saronian Marchers (Saro)

Roegadyn were the Galg

Viera were Lunarians

Hrothgar were the Watchers

Au Ra were white-scaled Steelhearts and black-scaled Flareseekers; formerly the Volcana

Specifically the Au Ra have a lot of background history that gets mentioned due to Lahabrea being a Flareseeker. Long story. Too long for this already long post.

Speaking of Lahabrea, though; there was rhyme and reason behind why the Ascians were what they were.

Lahabrea (Flareseeker+Amaurotine) is a renowned scholar who also is something of a social outcast both in Amaurot due to his Flareseeker heritage and in Bodhum due to his Amaurotine heritage, which leads to him being quite hard to deal with thanks to bad experiences way in the past

Elidibus (Child of Sirius+Saronian Marcher) is both very quiet and observant and still relies on company if not community and is rather lost without the support of those he deems his family

Emet-Selch (Amaurotine) is the one who misses home the fiercest out of all of them because that’s where his family and he always belonged, that’s where everyone he ever loved was

Hythlodaeus (Atlantean+Amaurotine-Lunarian) feels all over the place and cuts out his paternal home under the waves and his maternal home high above ground to find his own home

Venat (Amaurotine+Lunarian) grew up on her father’s stories about how the star looks from the Floating City of Babil and wanted the more grounded people of her home to see that as well

Another fun thing about ancient times was the fact that I could do whatever I want. It’s not that glaringly obvious with their names, but when it comes to their cities and settlements in general, I got to go a bit wild with it.

And with “wild” I mean I had some fun picking settlement names across the Final Fantasy series. I hope people who know the series a bit outside of XIV itself had some fun with the interludes; I know I had a lot of fun with it. I think if I had to pick a favourite it’d be the Floating City of Babil, the underground city Insomnia, and Archades on the mountains by the sea.

Again, I think having everything, apparently, be Ancient Greek Mythology is… stifling. I admit that even in my more canon-compliant other works I struggle with it. There’s a lot of myths to draw inspiration from; I for one would’ve loved Hermes to deal with a mfing Wolpertinger. Creature of all time.

But… at that point I was writing two different drafts. One where Unukalhai joined shortly before Hythlodaeus as POV character (which also was a joke about the darkness-aligned character joining before the light-aligned one because darkness is active), and one where he remained a non-POV but important character. Kind of similar to what Minfilia became after she was saved! It was the same for both of them up until he joined the party for good.

If I had gone with 7 POV characters instead of my full party set-up, there was a bit of an act dedicated to unravelling his feelings on this nonsense. Specifically a non-POV Unukalhai wouldn’t have spent as much time with everyone else and would have gone down a different mental rabbit hole of eventually struggling with not being able to get his revenge on Igeyorhm while also starting to feel like a replacement heist from an alternate timeline self is extremely creepy considering how the “heroes” of the Void all changed until they were effectively replaced by alternate versions of themselves. He’d have tagged along for Meteor’s Regula mission and would have gotten to hear their version of the replacement heist after they escape from Garlemald together. (Meteor taking over this timeline’s version of themself grew much less important overall as the drafting continued, so it never really came up again beyond Titan where the alternate self died during Living Dead).

After that Unukalhai would have mellowed out a bit until he would join the Ascians and Cylva on the First to deal with the Flood of Light. That would’ve been the last of him until the part where Meteor and G’raha come to the Empty.

Overall, a non-POV Unukalhai would have been less gloomy but also would have been a completely different beast. He remains fairly introspective and reclusive across both drafts, but the reclusion gets the better of him as non-POV character.

The setting itself was also becoming rather rigid—part of having so many things set in stone while adding more and more. It would be extraordinarily hard to integrate whatever canon proceeded with. I couldn’t add or remove characters because that led to a ripple effect throughout the whole plot, and the ending was admittedly the first thing I decided on after I got the idea for the premise. It was the only thing I couldn’t negotiate myself out of.

I can work with that! I’ve worked with that before!

But unlike previous longfics, something about TTAU felt daunting in ways I couldn’t articulate at any point. Still can’t. I guess I just really wanted it to be everything I’d want to read at any given time, and I really am my own harshest critic. Great going, Ms aethercurrent née vanitaslaughing, now you’ve made yourself anxious about disappointing the target audience (yourself).

I also struggled with not only making it fun for me but also for readers; I wouldn’t have posted it if I didn’t want to share it with people. I hope I did a good job in the end, but really I can only speak for myself here. If you read it, even partially, I hope you at least had some measure of fun before you dropped that absolute behemoth of a fic, and if you finished it entirely there are no words in either language I speak to convey how happy I am that my silly big baby entertained you to stick through with it until the end.

I eventually reached a point where more and more details were starting to form that were needed to keep things straight while probably never coming up.

Every member of the Convocation before the Sundering has a name and was assigned a race. Most of them are mentioned in an Interlude, but in most cases there’s some sort of underlying joke to them. Similarly all of them received titles similar to Speaker, Emissary, Architect, Seer; I attempted to keep it somewhat balanced and/or in line with a fantasy government. Messenger Mitron and Listener Loghrif sound a bit redundant with the Emissary Elidibus around, but those two specifically mostly stick to Amaurot and the more immediate surrounding settlements—specifically calling back to that one city mentioned in the sidequests in Amaurot where you deal with the debating shades. Something akin to a national relations minister, an international relations minister, and one specifically for the neighbouring countries.

At around that time the Twelve were also decided to be actual genuine deities of the star. A bit of inspiration comes from Sailor Moon (nothing concretely 100% similar, but the Twelve are effectively the star’s Sailor Scouts who also have the ability to become a new small system if they decide to leave), but I mostly just wanted them to be, y’know. Gods. Coming back to the issue I have with canon going “everything’s Amaurot”, I can’t say I love how the Twelve are in canon but I do adore them as characters. It made me choosing Menphina as the one to speak with the group all the more sweeter since I think out of all of them she’s my favourite design-wise.

There was also the thing with the Seer position that needed to be tackled at this point. I’m morbidly fascinated by characters who know the story they’re in but can’t do much to influence it because they can only tell what path they’re on depending on the ending.

I think the biggest struggle especially towards the end was the fact that I often drafted at least two possible POVs for a chapter. I often went in expecting to write one POV, got stuck irreversibly on it somehow, steamrolled the whole thing, and wrote out the other draft. I’ve cannibalised previous drafts into complete rewrites of the same POV a lot more than you’d think I have. And I only save a copy of a chapter that reached a certain word threshold or if there’s something integral written to a degree I like.

One of the worst offenders of the bunch was Chapter 78… which became Chapter 79 when I posted it. Yeah. It got so bad and frustrating that I had to make dealing with Hythlodaeus future me’s problem. Thankfully it didn’t cut too much into the pacing thanks to Act XI being extremely slow due to how introspective it was.

In the earlier days one of the other struggles was formatting. Something about my documents went haywire when pasted, leading to endless strings of completely superfluous <spans> that added strange spacing issues between all that mess. It was something that my older works struggled with too, which became a non-issue over the years (thankfully. I shudder thinking about possibly having to deal with that issue while already spending 48 hours formatting Eden Rewrite correctly).

The documents just eventually started to bug out because they were so damned long. I never expected them to be in one, but I have five documents holding all of this fic. It’s rather funny to see four chilling and the fifth on top with a 00 as its first characters in the document title so I see it first.

It's... really bittersweet to remove that 00 and seeing them all together now.

That's... about it for the fic as it was posted there. Whether you read the fic or just read this post, once again: thank you.

Thank you for sticking with me for six years, or for reading about the earliest of these six years!

~

For those who remember at a certain point I was considering overhauling the fic and implementing canon from Endwalker at that time, there's a bit more post to go specifically relating to that idea!

You’d think I’d struggle with keeping the canon characters and the fanfiction versions apart as someone who prefers staying canon compliant, but over the years those guys became their own beasts. Ophion could never have been Themis, but why would I want them to be the same? I needed Ophion for this fic to work, after all.

A lot, and I mean a metric shitton of stuff, breaks and changes there. It’s been a fun thought experiment at the very least. I’ll be the first one to admit that I don’t like the Warrior of Light being a reincarnation of Azem’s sundered soul; I just like them being a nobody with no preconceived notion that they’re bound to adventure no matter what because that’s what their soul always did… but Hythlodaeus likewise can’t replace them in that case.

The solution to that first massive hurdle? I suck up the Azem thing, and instead of an Unsundered Hythlodaeus, the one that joins the party is the Shade. His plot stays surprisingly intact through all of that, but instead of dealing with forced indecisiveness it becomes more of a plot about identity and what to do when you’re a creation on the path to freeing the real deal you were based on.

Out of all of them, Lahabrea changes surprisingly little—I wrote him like a stern father to Igeyorhm in this, and you can mostly mix and match a lot of that onto Erichthonios. Instead of dealing with her ascensions and the fact that she needed to be taken out, Lahabrea gets to see his son reincarnate and die over and over again.

Honestly? I could even keep the dual Elidibus approach. Instead of Ophion (the previous one’s student) and Rafael (the Zodiark sacrifice), it would be Elidibus (the Heart of Zodiark) and Themis (the rest of the Heart still remaining with Zodiark). There would be a lot of overlap with the Shade here but in the end the Shade and Hythlodaeus would exist independently from one another while the Heart of Zodiark reunites and becomes Themis again.

I think the parts where I would have to genuinely start rewriting it entirely is where to integrate canon Venat over TTAU Venat and the Endsinger. TTAU Venat is a lot more mellow than canon Venat—a shitty mother but an excellent politician versus canon’s all-loving hero with an understanding of but no love lost for politics. The Meteia as a villain are a lot less vague and distant than the Star Itself. Instead of a journey to the innermost reaches it’s to the edge of the universe. Doable, yes, but marginally harder to do. Honestly, thinking about it as I’m writing this, I think I would have to do an arc where at least Meteor if not all Sundered go to Elpis in the past to learn something while the Unsundered+Shade remain in the present to deal with the Final Days…?

Actually, let’s tackle the characters one by one in a canon-adjusted remake.

This would be assuming that there is inter-shard travel so the starting group would still be Meteor, Ryne, and G’raha. The one major major change would be that instead of Elidibus the “Ancient” to go with them would be the Shade.

Meteor would change the least. They don’t care about being Alexis, they don’t care about being Azem either. They’re one of a handful children of a farmer family in La Noscea, not some sort of government freak from ancient times long before they were ever born. They didn’t start travelling because their soul told them to after they got the Echo, they started travelling because they damn well wanted to after seeing the Calamity, get outta here with that “Azem” nonsense.

In an Elpis episode they would do the opening section for the most part. Not much else to say here.

G’raha would be a lot more cheerful once the initial horror stage of travelling through time to prevent the end of the world again faded. He’d still have his struggles with the idea of possibly letting down the future Ironworks and being arguably the least experienced in the adventuring department.

In an Elpis episode, G’raha would likely be the one to deal with Venat overall. She’d be the perfect foil to him; an experienced traveller to his inexperienced adventurer. They’re both old but he’s barely a blip on her lifespan. They’re both incredibly determined to find the reason for why this is happening.

Ryne would feel a bit more resentment towards Ascians in general at that point. Other than that, her struggle was always being the odd one out amongst the Sundered, about being face to face with the woman she was named after and seeing why that woman was so beloved. About finding her own niche and staying there, no matter the people she loses.

I think out of all of the Sundered in a possible back-in-time-again Elpis episode, she would be the one to sympathise the most with Hermes despite also possibly interacting with him the least; she would likely lead the charge right before Ktisis Hyperboreia and her plot in Elpis would mostly be about travelling treacherous foreign terrain just the way Thancred taught her.

Unukalhai’s a bit of an odd case. After all there’s still two drafts, one where he joins the party as main POV character, and one where he becomes something along the lines of TTAU Minfilia. In a rework of that, I’d have to apply a lot of the Void lore since revealed to him, which makes him go from an odd case to an even odder case. He’d… either possibly involuntarily make Azdaja’s predicament worse, or free her before Endwalker happens but she loses her memories and becomes his cool new partner in crime until a completely flabbergasted Vrtra has to drop the facade immediately because no one told him a thrice-damned Warrior of Light had his sister tagging along what the fuck.

The hypothetical Elpis Episode would have a POV Unukalhai likely be the one to help Meteion get a gift for Hermes. His already intense internal hatred coming to the surface to turn a flower from bright white to darkest shadow, mirroring what happened with Hermes and the flowers in the past? Yeah. That’s the good shit.

In a non-POV case he’d stick with the Scions to help deal with the Final Days and his section of the story most likely would have gone to Ryne.

Ophion would likely still be a soul in Zodiark. Other than that, he’s not relevant.

Themis or the Heart of Zodiark… wouldn’t necessarily be the first one to join them. Actually, I think he’d be the last one. Immovable object without memories meets unstoppable force that draws in his allies. Overall he would be a lot colder on account of having no memories, and be rather fiercely protective of the other Unsundered for reasons he cannot recall. He’d make for an excellent diplomat, but it would likewise lead straight into his greatest vice: vague, foggy memories of something other other that might float up to the surface on occasion. Claudien would be an extremely weak spot for him, except unlike Lahabrea in the same position, Themis cannot tell how or why he’s reacting like that.

While the Sundered are off for their Episode Elpis, Themis would likely scour through the Crystal Tower to find a way to interact with the him from the timeline the others came from.

Emet-Selch would be the first legitimate Ascian to “join” their cause.

Mostly out of morbid curiosity, partially because he wants to figure out how in the name of all good graces a recreation of Hythlodaeus with sentience so advanced it can be deadpan sarcastic and have an identity crisis is with there, and it’s driving him just a bit insane. He’d actually be a lot more antagonistic as a result, and he’d be the one mostly bemoaning the Sundered and how Meteor is a disgrace to Azem early on until they have enough of his nonsense and beat him up. That would serve the purpose of actually confirming that they have the strength to kill an alternate timeline version of Emet-Selch and he mellows out a bit. Not much. Just a bit.

Overall he’d be a lot more prickly—which makes for an interesting switch when during the Final Days on the Source he very swiftly drops the antagonism. It’s a bit of a “been there, done that” attitude but since the star itself is in danger he has surprisingly few qualms about saving a few Sundered while he’s at it.

Lahabrea wouldn’t change much like I said, though there would be a lot more ruthlessness behind anything and everything he does. He’s willing to walk over corpses no matter what instead of calming down a little on that once he’s been thoroughly humbled (and untempered).

He’d also be a bit more strangely sentimental internally around Minfilia specifically; he already compares her to Igeyorhm a few times in TTAU proper but in a canon-compliant rewrite the comparison point would be Erichthonios. No matter how ruthless he is, at the end of Pandæmonium he and Erichthonios started the long journey of making up, and Minfilia reminds him of Erichthonios’s best qualities in a quite haunting way. They’re both tenacious and care about everything and everyone from the bystander to the one causing the mess… except Minfilia is a bit more spicy and willing to speak her mind. He wouldn’t be as fond of her by the end, but he’d still accept her terms and teach her.

Lahabrea during the Final Days would likely be recruited by Urianger and the Loporrits as additional quality control.

I’ve gone over the Hyth Shade, but the endgame there would be essentially affirming that he is as much a person as the Sundered are. Sure, he may have been someone else’s creation but that doesn’t make him any less a person on this star, not to mention he was one of the time travellers.

The real Hythlodaeus also would’ve been rather delighted to have an identical twin, and one who’s fighting against the Final Days no less.

Can’t go into too much detail otherwise, since this canon compliant version never quite left the drafting phases for obvious reasons. He’s the one character who more reacted to the plot than being the one to move it along, and without the plot there isn’t much to say.

He’d have stayed behind to deal with the Final Days, and he’d likely have been one of the first to go to Garlemald when news of the skies changing there broke.

The one major departure from canon would be that Zodiark and Hydaelyn aren’t fully slain—Zodiark specifically it put under a complete stasis spell in the middle of unravelling, but that breaks the protective shroud He has over Etheirys and the Final Days start happening again. Hydaelyn created meticulous seals and mechanisms to ensure that despite being bound the protective shroud remains, but under full stasis and while the whole thing is falling apart…

(Hyth Shade was the one to suggest it to the Watcher, Elidibus, and Emet-Selch as an absolute last resort. None of them really wanted Zodiark to suffer; the main goal still remains to bring back those Ancients should it prove possible).

All issues with how wonky and not finished that is aside, I’d also get a lot of extremely fun things to explore. Jullus already is one of my favourite characters introduced in Endwalker, but having him tell his story to Emet-Selch would be super interesting. There’s knowing what you’re doing, and there’s coming face to face with it, and that would genuinely be super cool to do.

Then there’d be the whole Heart of Sabik business—I’d unironically love for that whole mess to unfold with the real Lahabrea and Elidibus there while there’s memory-creations Erichthonios and Themis there as well. That would be absolutely chaotic on top of Athena also being there. Atrocious vibes, ten out of ten.

Likewise, Ryne and Vrtra would also be an interesting pair of characters to interact; they’re both the youngest siblings (of a sort in Ryne’s case), they’re both intensely protective of the people they care about, and they couldn’t bring themselves to hurt those they love even if it were absolutely necessary until someone else confirmed that this was the only way. There’s also that loss of family (Azdaja missing, Ratatoskr/Bahamut/Nidhogg dead; the whole abandoned timeline) that would have them interact in a neat way too, they’re quite similar to each other.

Unukalhai and Zero. She’s effectively everything he was said to be and they both failed. There’d be an interesting dynamic between them because of that—even if getting Zero in on the plot would be rather hard. Unukalhai would definitely try and sympathise with Zenos’s voidsent and maybe try to get them to abandon their master, and through that realise that she might not be there entirely willingly.

But overall, the hardest character to implement would be the Meteia. There’s eight main characters and there’s eight different opinions on this mess, ranging from intensely sympathetic and willing to rebuild burnt bridges (Ryne, Meteor, Hyth Shade, Elidibus if he regains his memories before Ultima Thule), apathetic despite how high the stakes are (Unukalhai, Elidibus if he doesn’t regain his memories), different levels of less sympathetic (Lahabrea, Emet-Selch), and the option where G’raha has such intense issues with being not overly sympathetic and having no sympathy at all that his understanding of the situation is wildly out of control until the very end.

Having worked with them as both individuals and as a hivemind in a couple writing exercises, I honestly would have had a Meteion for every main character, and give all eight of them a proper story on top of what’s already going on there. Narrative foils that lead both parties to Ultima Thule.

Putting that one lightly: that would’ve been a goddamn motherfucking nightmare to write. Fun, but a nightmare.

And that's a lot coming out of Ms Almost Half a Million Words Across Six Years.

[fourphoenixfeathers]

IM SO SORRY I JUST FOUND THIS IN MY DRAFTS

Response to astral au tags from @dysfunctionalburden

Basically they both looked at earth and thought "hey that planet looks really fun, we should go chill". And so they did. Just. Bam, they were there. I think it's funnier if I don't explain how. They are just built different.

They thought the league trial looked like an interesting tradition to participate in, so they decided to just be kids for a bit and they lived out lives as normal (but slightly glowy) guys.

At least until Giratina vibe checked Ingo.

The fact that Procyon disappeared from the sky in the modern day is huge for the astronomy community, but doesn't have much of an effect on the universe as a whole. Now, for the boys personally...

Sorry not sorry, this is an evil-ish gira au. Bad in the sort of "doesn't care about the consequences of its actions" way. Giratina got bored and and found some of its sibling's creations wandering around on earth. Naturally it decided to play around with no care for how much damage it was doing.

Ingo drew the short straw.

Normally, Ingo would have had a really long lifespan compared to human perception of time. A star Procyon's size would just continue to burn up its fuel until there was not enough left, and then it would become a much smaller and dimmer white dwarf star. That wouldn't be too bad, after all, Emmet is already a white dwarf.

However. Star life cycles are entirely dependent on the effects of mass and gravity. And Giratina, the literal deity of gravity (and I will die on that hc hill), decided to mess around. Giratina caused Ingo to prematurely collapse, but not into a white dwarf as he should have. Ingo went boom, and he left behind two pieces: a supernova, and a black hole.

Supernova got sent to Hisui, and oh boy he's struggling. Supernovae don't last very long, only taking a week at most to reach maximum brightness before fading over the course of a few weeks. I'm giving him the luxury of more time bc *handwavy bs go* but he's definitely aware that he doesn't have much. Add to that that he has to somehow contain the destruction of a cosmic explosion in his tiny human body...

Meanwhile, Black Hole Ingo is left behind in Nimbasa, and Emmet is not having a great time. Fortunately for Nimbasa, Ingo isn't a hazard. Unfortunately for Emmet, he can't touch Ingo without getting tired and feeling like he's falling.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 14/07/2023

Five Dreams at Night 1.16

Season 5 Featured on: Bloodstained Bounties ~ The SiIvaGunner All-Star Summer Festival 2021 Collection [Event Side]

Ripped by andrés

Coincidentally requested by @minindo!

(Sorry in advance if you find this through the Dream tags - I'm going to be making fun of him here.)

In a similar vein to my prior posts about using It's Everyday Bro as a source, we've recently been treated to another song with much the same reputation: Mask by Dream. The song got an infamously negative reaction from its rough animated music video, along with Dream himself being a pretty controversial figure in ways that are honestly more funny than they are upsetting. The song was prime ripping material, but the song's integration onto the channel has been funnier than I could've ever anticipated.

The main thing that elevates Dream rips to another level for me is the implementation of the Sus Mix - if you've been listening to the rip above as while reading this, you might've noticed a few lines in the lyrics don't quite sound right! That's because in almost every rip that uses Mask, the song's fanmade sexually-explicit remix gets integrated into the rip as well at completely unexpected places, which never fails to catch me off-guard in the best way possible. In alternating between the original's so-bad-its-good lyrics and the surprisingly similar-sounding sex lyrics of the remix, Mask rips have become an absolute favorite for me on the channel, and I believe Five Dreams at Night 1.16 was the rip that truly solidified that for me.

The rip uses Living Tombstone's Five Nights at Freddy's song Its Been So Long as its source track, while the main melody alternates between it and Mask itself, and thanks to the nature of the songs used the pitchshifting ends up working extremely well. Honestly, as a ripper I've gotten the feeling that andrés pretty consistently puts in more effort and care than one would expect regardless of the kind of rip he's tackling. As an example, this was one of the first Mask rips to actually ping-pong between the two mixes of the song, rather than playing the versions for extended periods each. The aforementioned pitchshifting and overall production of the rip is done so well that its often hard to notice that its even changed, which elevates the joke even further. The song's first drop is of course the cherry on top of it all, a hysterical yet insanely creative way to both build up the drop itself whilst mining further use of Dream as the rip's joke: If you haven't been listening to the track yet, I don't even want to spoil it.

It ends up being the perfect kind of rip: One that's both immensely funny in its execution, whilst being genuinely listenable as a good piece of music. And, funny enough, I've had this rip in particular in my drafts for a week only for it to become requested mere hours before posting it! In a way, that speaks to just how many other people have been struck by andrés' touch of quality in the same way I have.

[drabbles-mc]

Anymore 📁for Juice/Happy romantically or was the one you reblogged all you had in your head? It's fine, if so.

Omg hello 😊 I have that one and there's another one that I wrote that I also have in my drafts to reblog at some point. (You can find the original post Here) However! I never tire of talking about Juice and tbh Juice/Happy is a ship that came out of nowhere and now lives in my head all the time. I will gladly say more things about them.

While I think that the first few weeks of the two of them officially living together would be an extreme comedy of errors, I think that when the two of them are just in that phase where they are just starting to stay over at each other's places, it's even funnier. Because it's obviously not the same level of commitment as moving in together so they don't really get to have much of a say in how things are organized but you know that they both have Opinions On Things.

Like the first time Juice stays over at Happy's place and goes to the kitchen to try and make breakfast in the morning he is fighting every single urge he has to reorganize Happy's fridge and cabinets. Like despite the fact that Happy doesn't have a ton of stuff in his kitchen doesn't stop Juice from feeling like it's all very disorganized. I'm just picturing Happy lurking around and waiting to see if Juice tries to change things around. If he does, Happy immediately, silently, fixes it back to the way it was.

Meanwhile when Happy goes over to Juice's place he's just constantly wondering why Juice has so many things. It's all organized and neat and all, but we all know that Happy doesn't have any extra belongings. Bare minimum. Meanwhile Juice collects all his nerd shit and he's got his gaming setup and his hacking setup and Happy is just trying to wrap his head around how someone as particular as Juice ended up with so much stuff. I can just picture him picking things up to look at them because he's just trying to figure out what the appeal is and Juice doesn't wanna tell him to stop but Happy doesn't always put it back right and it's a little infuriating for him.

None of it is a big deal and they end up figuring it out but I just chuckle to myself picturing what those first few times staying over at each other's places was like. The fluctuation between, "Wow this is so great," and the mortifying ordeal of being known and another person touching your belongings. It's good for them.

Send me a “📂” and I’ll give you a random/useless headcanon that I have!

[unknwnxquantity]

My mom loves this song too. I listen to songs sometimes in honor of my parents, whether they’d appreciate it or not. Sometimes I’ll tell them I’m listening to it in that given moment.

I told my mom today (this is a draft from like more than a month ago…. So I told my mom this over a month ago) I was listening to endless love and how I remember it’s her fav song and she’s like “yes!! And debarge a dream!!” Which is another song that reminds me of her when I was growing up, that we share together bc of how much the song reminds me of her.

When I worked at my job in the city, we’d be able to make music playlists and would have your playlist played maybe a few times a week for a couple hours. I put “A Dream” on one of mine. In honor of my mom. I did that with other songs too (that would fit the vibe of the store), that reminds me of my parents, siblings, gf, old friends, etc. to honor them and think of them at my job when the song came on. And hopefully it would impact customers and my coworkers positively. Put them onto the song, or give them a hit of nostalgia and memories, their own associations to those same songs I have my own associations with. Anyways… I remember my one coworker ima call her P bro she used to piss me off so bad. She’s like “what you know about debarge???” And I’m like “I have parents.” Omg and guess what like a week after, she put a debarge song on ONE OF HER PLAYLISTS (the song is I like it) AND EVERYONE WAS LIKE OOO OKAY P GOT TASTEEE. She used to challenge me and tried to step on my toes bc I was quiet and had high anxiety at first. Pushover vibes. I learned partly bc of her how to stand up for myself especially in work environments. Our interactions would act as mini pushes for me to step into my own energy. The desensitization of putting assertive words and phrases to life and or acting them, so I can then stand my ground to the rest of the world.. Libra sun cap moon like my mom, but Leo rising. I usually always have some sort of ego beef w a Leo rising or moon, like no I am the Leo SUN… yall need to calm down (even tho one could argue a Leo moon is more Leo than a Leo sun but that’s not the point).

My gf thought she liked me lowkey😭 I was like no p is for the guys real bad (she did like her feminine guys tho lol). Shes just one of those girls that if you weren’t her type of mold or if you weren’t a guy, she’d just push and test your buttons, to see what she could get away with. Passivity. Power struggles. Freaking ego trips. i stood my ground a couple times after a few months. Then she’d leave me alone but do little jabs here and there… to see what she could get away with. Testing. I hate that shit. Now I’m ready!!! To put ppl into their place!!! I’ll give them the stank faces I practiced making or correct them with my confident tone of voice. I will be disrespectful. I wish she met me how I am now. But whatever. We ended up having a surface level friendship, but underneath it all could barely stand each other. Couldn’t even really fake the conversations even tho we tried. Actually she fucked my cousins cousin, who also happened to work at that job at the same time as us! The cousin (who I wish I was who I mentioned in one of my early posts… like in a looking-up-to kind of way) and then the cousins cousin who was exposed to nyc life in ways I wish I was…Meeting and working with celebs in nyc area all his life basically. Super exposed to streetwear and sneaker culture at its peak. And what’s funnier is all three of us have Scorpio moons (I think my cousin does, he’s a scorpio sun for sure, either Libra or Scorpio moon when I did his birth chart). And I had “beef” with the cousins cousin in our preteens, bc he got closer to my cousin and I was jealous bc they’re both boys and I was a girl and lived a state away…How funny is that. How funny is life.

[kwritingbooks]

Imposter Syndrome

your new CEO seems to take a liking to you for some reason, even with all your other coworkers’ eyes on him at the same time

pairing: ceo!harry x reader

word count: 600+

my masterlist here

a/n: this is just a little blurb that has been sitting in my drafts for so long and i’m conflicted on whether or not to continue it so if u guys do just lmk!!

When you first joined the company, you were amazed by how big and professional everything seemed. It was your first "big" job, meaning salary, 401K, and other benefits you didn't quite understand yet. Frankly, you thought you were underqualified for it. Not because you lacked the brain power for it, but everyone else just seemed so...put together—on top of their shit.

You were only about a year out of college, with your freshly dusted off degree. It sat above your desk as a nice reminder that you belonged at the table you sat at. Even when everyone else was talking about their kids and families that they had created or how they had just put money down on a new house—it was hard knowing that you listened to those coworkers' stories while you sat in your small apartment, getting this job by the skin of your teeth it seemed. 

That and the fact the CEO had taken a real liking to you. When he walked into the office area for your interview, he made you incredibly nervous. A lot more nervous than you had been the entire time while you waited for him to enter. He wasn’t at all what you envisioned a CEO to look like. His suit was finely pressed without a wrinkle in sight, but not the usual black color that was in your head. It was a pale blue, with a partially unbuttoned collar shirt underneath. A pearl necklace paired with a cross chain dangled against his chest that peaked out through his top. Even his shoes shined against the sunlight that peaked through the floor-to-ceiling windows outstretched over the entire wall. His demeanor was the most striking of all, though.

He carried himself in a way that seemed untouchable. A curve of his lips always seemed to be present while he spoke, like he knew the power that he held. The words out of his mouth flew just as seamlessly, strewing together in statements of charisma and influence. The supervisor that sat alongside him appeared to be just as taken aback, fully engaged by his presence. You could tell people here valued him, whom he introduced himself as Harry Styles. 

He gave your resume a few look overs, followed by a couple head nods of acknowledgment. You weren't sure what that acknowledgment was about—whether by being impressed or the opposite. You assumed he was impressed enough considering he gave you a job offer on the spot. The pay was too good to pass up and you couldn't help but be entranced by your new CEO.

You knew it wasn't professional to think the way you did, but you couldn't help it. After a couple of weeks of working there, you also realized you weren't the only one who acted or thought the way you did.

Every now and then you would peak over, seeing his head appear out in the hall. Each time, without fail, one the female coworkers would stop to pull him for a side conversation. Sometimes you would be close enough to hear them as they twirled their hair around with their fingers. It was never a conversation with any kind of substance, you could tell by the look on Harry's face that he wasn't nearly as interested as the other person thought. You found it funny how desperate people put themselves out to be when it came to him. 

It was even funnier when he started giving you side glances when no one else got the same attention, no matter how much they twirled their hair around. You pretended not to notice them at first, but it was too hard not to.

You wanted his eyes on you and it seemed like he wanted yours on his too.

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 5)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: nearly 2.5k

warnings: vague description of a wet dream, some sensual implied stuff (??), 

moodboard and inspiration credit to @evnscvll​

In all your life, you’d never had a wet dream.  Not even in high school when so many of your peers were coping with puberty and budding sexuality in similar ways— not even when you’d wanted to have one about David Kapoor, the cutest guy in senior year who didn’t even know you existed but that you were somehow convinced was going to fall madly in love with you one day.  

It never did work out for you two, but you’d finally managed to have a wet dream.  This one, though, was about Sebastian.

In your dream he had cornered you in the kitchen, kissing you deeply before tossing you onto the table and— well, the rest doesn’t bear repeating.  It was all very ‘discount bin romance novel’ wasn’t it?  The exotic, rugged farm boy roughly taking the formerly-prudish businesswoman in the middle of the house, too deep in the throes of passion to care if someone walking by saw them.

You didn’t find it all that sexy by the time you woke up; moreso just humorous.  That’s preposterous, you thought to yourself, nobody’s ever gonna love me like that.

It was something your husband had said to you once.  You couldn’t even remember what the context was anymore, but clearly it had had an impact on you to be repeating it internally now.  Just last week, Mrs. Alberti had gotten on your case for speaking poorly of yourself.  Clearly, the things you said about yourself to others were nothing against what you said about yourself to yourself.

Your papers had only taken a day to dry, but the ink was pretty severely smudged.  Knowing your publisher wouldn’t accept them in a manuscript, you resolved to retyping the most damaged ones— a good mindless task to do while you pondered your next steps plot-wise.  You’d seen Sebastian less for the past week, and it was no accident; you’d been avoiding him because you were trying to nip this in the bud before it got any worse.  Your divorce isn’t final yet, you need to heal.  This is fantasy, not reality.  You barely know each other.  Your divorce isn’t final.  Your divorce.  Isn’t.  Final.

That was the mantra you found yourself repeating as you retyped the waterlogged sheets; so much for the plot-pondering plan, eh?

You heard someone coming up the stairs, and you knew it was him because the steps were coming too quickly to be Mrs. Alberti.  “Come in,” you instructed before he’d even knocked.  

“Bună ziua,” he greeted as he opened the door, leaning inside.  “Am pregătit cina, ai vrea să mănânci?”

“Hm?” you asked as you turned around in your chair, adjusting your reading glasses.  However, his question became more obvious through context when you saw he had oven mitts and an apron on, and was holding a wooden spoon.  “Oh, um, I’ll be down for dinner in a minute.  Soon.”  You held up a few fingers, hoping he would successfully interpret them into minutes.

“Arăți bine în ochelarii aceia,” he motioned, pointing towards you.

“I’m sorry… what?” you asked, not sure at all what he could be talking about.

“Ochelari. Sunt drăguți,” he re-emphasized, but it was useless as you gave him another confused look.  He sighed, straightening up a bit as he began a new method: “Îmi plac,” he said, pointing to himself and then giving a thumbs up, “ochelarii tăi,” he pointed to you, and then made circles with his fingers and brought them up to his eyes.  

You laughed a little, but you were pretty sure you got what he meant.  “You like my glasses?” you clarified, reaching up to wiggle them on your face a bit.

“Da,” he grinned.  “Pari inteligent.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, and he nodded back as he shut the door and his footsteps faded back into the kitchen.

Once a few more pages had been redone, you gave your hair a quick combing before heading down for dinner with Sebastian.  It smelled a little strange by the time you went downstairs, but when you swung open the door to the kitchen, you were instantly hit with a wave of acidic air, forcing you to wince and cough.  Even that didn’t help much, and you forced your eyes shut as they stung.

“Jesus Christ,” you yelped, “the fuck are you cooking?  Tear gas?!”

“Oțetul te irită?” he asked, not sounding as concerned as you would’ve hoped considering your obvious pain.  It was like you could taste it in the air, and it wasn’t until you managed to open your burning eyes again that you realized what it was: vinegar, in a huge jug right next to the pot he was boiling it in.

“You’re boiling vinegar?” you realized incredulously.  “God, Europeans are fucking weird.”

He just looked back at you with bewildered bemusement.

“In America,” you tried to explain, “we don’t eat vinegar.  We clean our floors with it.”  You pointed to the jug and made a motion meant to indicate scrubbing a surface, and he laughed a little.

“Americanii sunt prea sensibili,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, turning back to the stove to stir his pot of disinfectant which he apparently planned to serve you as a meal.  “Am avut ciorbă de oțet de când eram copil.”

You’d typically considered yourself an adventurous eater— even with vinegar-pickled things, like kim chi which you’d learned to acquire a taste for— but this one put you to the test.  Considering the smell alone had singed your sinuses, you were nervous what would become of your innocent tastebuds.  But after he served the soup (a dark orange color, so apparently it wasn’t just the boiled vinegar) into a bowl for you and another for himself, you found the taste of it oddly pleasant when you sipped it gently from your hesitant little spoon.

“Vezi, nu e așa de rău,” he smiled gently as he watched you fail to recoil in disgust from the flavor.

“Just like ma used to make, huh?” you chuckled as he ate the soup with incredible speed, even going as far as to lift the bowl to his lips and drink the last few sips that way.

Eating dinner in silence with him was unexpectedly comfortable.  “You wanna know something funny?” you found yourself mumbling aloud.  “I enjoy talking to you more than anyone I ever did back home, and you can’t even understand me.”

His smile softened as he stared back at you, apparently sensing the change in your tone as you spoke.

“See, right there, that’s it: you’re listening to me.  You know it’s useless, you know you won’t be able to tell what I’m talking about, but you’re listening anyways.  Over two billion English speakers on the planet and none of them have listened to me like you do.”

Then you heard yourself, and it was so heart-breaking that you had no choice but to laugh.  It was just a chuckle at first, but then you couldn’t stop it, even when you realized how confused Sebastian would be.  Everything is funnier when you know you shouldn’t laugh, and soon you could barely breathe as tears warmed your eyes from the force of it.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to spit out between your fits of laughter, but it was barely comprehensible anyways.  Sebastian began to laugh with you, if hesitantly and with a hint of confusion.

“De ce râdem?” he asked gently.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, calming down a bit, “I’m sorry I just… I was just imagining what my husband would say, if he knew I was here…” you trailed off as you laughed again, starting over.  “If he knew I was here, falling for someone I’ve never even spoken with.”  You shook your head, resting your face in your hands as you chuckled lightly.  “Oh, he’d hate this.  He’d tell me I was out of my mind.”

With a slow sigh, your laughter subsided as you wiped the wetness from your eyes.  

“He’d be right, but… I don’t really care,” you decided.  “He’s not here.  If he wanted to find me, he would.  And maybe it’s because he’d hate this that I’m having so much goddamn fun doing it.”

When you looked at Sebastian again, his face was serious, yet anything but stern.  Suddenly, you weren’t thinking about your husband anymore.  Of course you logically understood how odd this all was, how impossible it was for you to be slowly finding yourself in love with someone like him, but it felt right, and true, and real.  It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense in every way that mattered.  

“I’ll help you clean,” you offered as you stood up, realizing you’d gotten lost in your train of thought and probably stared at him for a bit too long.  He stood up with you, helping you gather the used dishes and letting you wash them in the sink while he put the remaining soup in the refrigerator as leftovers for another time.  “I’ll cook for you tomorrow,” you promised, “something real bland, like the English cook.”

“Sper că nu intenționați să gătiți pentru mine cândva, nu suport mâncarea occidentală,” he mumbled as he continued to wipe down the countertop with a damp towel.

With the kitchen clean, you knew you should get back to writing your book, but you were compelled instead to read somebody else’s— so, as you slipped onto the couch with one of a few of your favorites that you’d brought with you, Sebastian summoned the same copy of Dracula you’d seen him reading a few times and took the loveseat.  Not much else happened after that, save for you shivering from a draft and him tossing a throw blanket on you.  

“Ce carte citești?” he asked you eventually, breaking the silence.  When you looked up, he was pointing at your book.  “Book?”

“Right,” you laughed, “I taught you that.  My book, uh, it’s good.”  You closed it, leaving your finger inside to mark your place as you showed him the front cover.  “On the Road?  Ever heard of it?”

He just cocked his head to the side.

“Jack Kerouac?” you continued.  “It’s about going on a long journey in search of… freedom.”

“Acesta este cel despre zombi?” he asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, wishing more than ever that you could know what he was saying.  He smiled and got back to his own reading.  Indulging yourself for a moment, you watched his face as it fell into a neutral expression while he read, his eyes trailing along the page as he continued to read.  You didn’t realize it, but when you returned to reading your own book, he got his chance to look at you.

A long day of writing meant you had more than earned an evening to relax by the fire; late summer became early fall, and early fall turned into the need for a fireplace so much faster than you’d anticipated.  The days were temperate, sure, but as the sun began to sink lower, so did the warmth.  You started your evening with a hot shower, though you didn’t let yourself get too greedy with the limited supply of hot water, knowing Sebastian relied on the same supply for his own baths.  When you finished, you dressed yourself in a fluffy lavender robe, feeling especially pampered when you put on a little moisturizer before heading downstairs to cozy up with the fire.  You were already getting chilly, the heat from the shower fading as your wet hair and bare feet cooled you quickly.  Therefore, it was more of a scurry to the fireplace, which you hadn’t expected Sebastian to be tending or you wouldn’t have come down in a robe.  He’d seen you in less (namely, his shirt and nothing else, which was horrifically embarrassing) but something about this felt more intimate, like all your defenses had been washed away in the shower, too.  Didn’t help that he was shirtless, again.  Wasn’t he cold in this weather?!  Must be all that muscle keeping him warm.

“Bună seara,” he greeted.

“Good evening,” you returned.  Stepping closer, you rubbed your hands together as you felt the hot air radiate towards you.  “It’s nice,” you sighed contentedly.

He smiled back at you, moving the logs slightly with the iron poker.  Sparks jumped and fell off as he shifted them, joining the ashes below— you’d always thought fire was so beautiful, even if it was dangerous, and you took in a long breath through your nose to smell the tinge of smokiness in the air.

“Te încălzești?” he asked quietly as he set the poker aside and stood beside you.  You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing through the fabric of the robe to try to warm up a little faster.  Seeing you shiver, he reached out and rubbed your arms for you, which made you tense up slightly before relaxing and breathing out.  “Mai bine?”

You nodded a little, your gaze drifting slightly.  

“Warm?” he asked, making your eyes jump back up to his.  You swallowed dryly as he looked back at you.

“Warm,” you repeated, “yeah.  Good job… when’d you learn that?”

He didn’t answer, watching your hands as they reached out for his arms, finally making delicate contact with his tanned skin before drifting up to his biceps, his shoulders, and finally his chest.  He put his own hands on top of yours and held them there, looking back at you as your heart started to beat rapidly and with no signs of slowing down.  “Warm,” he repeated, only slightly above a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” you agreed hoarsely, “very, very warm…”

He smiled a little; it wasn’t mischievous, it wasn’t conniving or predatory or malicious.  It was subtle but gentle in a way you had absolutely no plan to save yourself from, no protection, no armor, no neutral territory.  There was only heat, so strong that your toes weren’t cold anymore and you didn’t even remember that your hair was still damp.  Not only did you let his heat consume you, but you didn’t even think to stop it, to swallow your desire down, to run away and say goodnight and hide in bed from the icky scary feelings.  No, you looked right back at him and let those eyes pierce right through you, that cold blue changed entirely with the warm firelight reflecting in them.  

“Do you want to come to my room?” you asked slowly.  The words were useless, but a glance back to the stairs that led to your door and back at him asked the same question with much more efficacy.  

He nodded, and you stepped backwards as he followed you: across the house, up the stairs, and to your room.  You opened the door.  He shut it behind you. 

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 50,293

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 26:

(Words: 2,825)

The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color. 

All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.

From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.

Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain. 

As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them. 

But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself. 

Okay. 

Alright. 

No distractions. 

I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.

If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal. 

Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way. 

I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. 

I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them. 

And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again. 

Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two. 

Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too. 

While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.

“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”

MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat. 

“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.

She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”

“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.

“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”

“Convince?”

“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, so you thought you could just—”

“What kind did you get?” 

That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.

“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”

Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—

“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”

Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times. 

I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.

The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.

“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”

Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us. 

“Take however many you guys want.”

I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:

“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”

Flash looked away at just the right second. 

Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.

Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one. 

“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”

“Staying.”

“All of you?” 

He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents. 

“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing. 

Flash nodded. 

“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”

As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?

“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”

A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started. 

Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god. 

The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp. 

And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake. 

I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition. 

I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.

Next update: God only knows.

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[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! 💛

[ayatosmlktea]

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫𝑾𝑰𝑫𝑬

Pairings: Bokuto x Reader

Genre: Fluff, a lil tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Just a lil something I wrote for @soltserra​ one night! This song is based on Worldwide from Big Time Rush and I highly HIGHLY recommend listening to it while you read because 1) it’s a masterpiece and 2) it makes the fic 10x better

Also I literally know nothing about sports so pls...be kind :3

The news comes as a shock to Bokuto, he knew that eventually it was going to happen but he hadn’t expected it to come so soon. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, being drafted into one of the biggest volleyball teams in the world. Of course he was excited, he had been thrilled so much so that he could barely contain his excitement and had nearly grabbed the manager in for a hug before remembering to remain professional.

 His dreams were finally coming to fruition and the first person his mind thought of after hearing the offer was you. His rock through thick and thin, his highschool sweetheart. Unable to wait any until he got home he dialed your number, bouncing with excitement as he waited for you to pick up.

Frowning when his call went to voicemail he figured you must have been busy, it didn’t matter. That meant he’d get to share the news with you in person!

Rushing home, he stopped along the way to pick up your favourite takeout to celebrate. Their lives were about to change in the best way possible and there was no one else he wanted to go on this journey with.

Practically running home, he bounded up the steps to your shared apartment two at a time eager to tell you the good news.

Upon entering the apartment he found you fast asleep on the couch, placing the food on the kitchen counter Bokuto sat down next to you, gently stroking your hair.

“Hey love, I got dinner” he says softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Pulling the light blanket over your  head you groaned something incoherent into the cushions.

“I got your favourite! Sushi burritos” At the mention of food you poke you head out from under the blankets, suddenly wide awake.

“Food” Bokuto laughs loudly, wrapping his arms around you to plant wet kisses on your cheeks.

“So you’ll wake up for food but not me? That hurts” he sniffles before continuing his assault of kisses all over your face.

“Move, I’m hungry” Turning your head away from his face you struggle to slip out of his arms.

“Can I at least have a kiss for being the world’s best boyfriend and bringing my beautiful girlfriend her favourite dinner?” Bokuto pouted, you had gotten used to his childish temper after being together for so long but for some reason right now it was funnier than usual.

“If you wash the dishes too you might get one later” Flashing him a cheeky smile you shoved your hands against his chest, walking into the kitchen to inspect the food. Not even waiting to sit down, you lean on the kitchen island unwrapping your food and take a hasty first bite.

“So there’s something I wanted to tell you about!” Bokuto says abruptly. Your eyes leave your burrito, with a curious look on your face.

“I got an offer to play for that American team I was telling you about”

“Oh my God! That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you Bo” You knew how big of a deal it was for him to get drafted by this team, putting down your food you shuffled over to give him a hug.

“I know right! We have a few weeks to get settled into our new place. We should probably start packing tomorrow” The longer Bokuto rambled on, the bigger the pit of dread grew in your stomach.

“We?”

“Yeah, you and me babe.” His smile is so hopeful and full of excitement that it feels wrong to have to crush his spirits.

“I-I can’t go with you, I can’t just quit my job and move across the world with you”

Bokuto’s face fell instantly, he hadn’t expected this. He’d been so caught up in telling you the news, that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you might not be able to come with him.

“I’ll come visit you! But for now, it’s not possible. I’m sorry”

“It’s fine! Like you said, you can come visit me” He was trying to brush off his disappointment for you, but you knew that he was upset. The rest of dinner was spent in an uncomfortable silence.

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

It had been almost three months since Bokuto had seen you, the two of you tried to call as often as you could but it was difficult with the time difference. While you  were on your lunch break Bokuto was already fast asleep. The only time you really got to spend with each other was on the weekends, and even then it was never enough. 

The way your eyes would become glossy with tears never went unnoticed but he didn’t want to say anything that would make you cry. It ripped his heart into shreds knowing that you were crying and he couldn’t do anything about it. He sent you pictures everyday along with cute messages reminding you that he loved you. Bokuto spent most of his nights going through old pictures and videos of the two of you  together. 

On days where they weren’t able to call at all, he’d go through his voicemail until he found an old message from you. It didn’t matter what you were saying, the sound of your voice alone was enough to help ease his homesickness.

Volleyball took up a lot of his time and most of his energy but you were always on his mind. Everything he was doing was for your future. The sooner he became successful, the sooner you’d be able to come live with him in America.

Lately,you seemed more distant. You didn’t send him as many texts like you usually did and whenever he tried to make plans to call you, there was always something keeping you busy. Doubts of you falling out of love with him were putting him on edge, the rational side of him tried to convince himself that he was being paranoid for no reason. You were an honest person, and if you were falling out of love with him he trusted you to tell him.

Regardless, the thought of not having you in his life was enough to start affecting his playing. His serves were off, his spikes were not timed properly. He’d been yelled at by their coach more times in one week than he had in his entire time spent on his highschool team. It was beginning to irritate him, as much as he wanted to get his head in the game he couldn’t stop worrying about you. Thoughts of you dating another man, kissing someone who wasn’t him, holding someone else’s hand were all starting to drive him crazy.

When practice ends, Bokuto leaves feeling frustrated, he knows  he can play better than that. He knows what he needs to do, he knows how to time his jumps so why can’t he just focus on the game. Pulling out his phone, he scrolls through his notifications hoping that you had sent him something, anything to make his disappointing day a bit better.

But there’s nothing.

He doesn’t even want to eat, his mood is so sour that all he can think of is taking a shower and crawling into bed. His emo mode reaching new levels of pettiness. The walk back to his apartment is spent hoping that you would be able to call him. A week of bare minimum communication was making him crazy. He could only imagine what it would be like if you were to actually walk out of his life. The thought alone makes his throat constrict.

“Why do you look constipated?” A distinct chuckle instantly grabs his attention. His eyes dart up from the sidewalk to find you standing outside of his apartment complex. For a second Bokuto doesn’t know how to react, his mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether or not he’s hallucinating.

“Are you gonna stand there all day or are you gonna let me in? I’m hung-” Bokuto races forward, grabbing you and enveloping you in a bone crushing hug.

“I missed you so much” he mumbles, suddenly finding it hard to get his words out. He’s so sure that he’s dreaming and any second his alarm will go off, waking up once again to an empty bed. But the smell of your shampoo is right under his nose and your arms are squeezing him back in a way that feels too real to be a dream.

“I missed you too”

“What are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining”

“I requested a transfer to our American branch, that’s why I’ve been distant this past week. I was so excited I didn’t want to give anything away” You confess shyly, averting your gaze from his face. Cupping your cheeks with both of his hands he leans down to kiss you passionately, the feeling of your lips against his after so long feels so good that it sets every nerve in his body on fire.

“I love you, so much” he says, tightening his arms around your  body. All the doubts he’d been having immediately disappeared. It was stupid to think that after all this time a little distance would come between you two. It didn’t matter where you were, as long as you were together Bokuto was complete.

“I love you too Bo”

[goose-books]

goose-books productions: a 2020 review

view the image in higher quality here! (open the image in a new tab to zoom in.) thank you to my dearest @yvesdot for the template

transcripts and month-by-month details under the cut! for reference, you can find my projects here :-) overall, new and old followers, thank you for another good year over here! [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your h

january

i spent late 2019-early 2020 working on 2019’s nano project, quark, aka the speculative fiction thing about new york city and prophets and dissections of the chosen one trope and gay people. quark is my second-oldest project (five years!), but it’s also probably the most ambitious, so it’s been... difficult to wrangle into place, and i didn’t end up finishing a first draft. oh, well.

enjoy a snippet that is devastatingly emblematic of everything about quark. the tone. the homoerotic tension. the ensemble cast all talking over each other. the fact that caelum has spent pretty much this entire scene crying. fun autopsy report meeting.

Marble stares at the notebook in Shade’s hands. Or maybe he’s staring at Shade’s hands. Dawn feels a little voyeuristic, so she does what she does and says a dumb and unrelated thing: “Augustus, I think this pizza-on-the-floor thing is hurting my ass.”

Augustus flutters his hands. “Sometimes nonconformity is painful.”

“At least we’re originals,” Caelum mumbles into his sleeve.

“Exactly,” Augustus says.

“True originality doesn’t exist,” Marble says.

“Oh,” Shade deadpans, “it’s going to be a fun autopsy report meeting.”

It isn’t.

february

in january i stressed myself out trying to make the plot of quark work. so in february, i decided to take some time and write something Entirely For Fun. like, entirely for fun, no rules. and. my god. how do i explain the project i started calling “third eye for the bad guy.”

it was an unholy mashup of many of my past hyperfixations, including the gone series, a tale of two cities, warrior cats, and the left hand of darkness. one of the characters was a canon scalie and one was a canon fictionkinnie. it centered around a polycule of wannabe-evil-overlord high schoolers. i only wrote like three chapters but i was lost in the sauce for all of february and then i just… like… wiped it from my mind and moved on? somehow??? one character was a werewolf and that literally wasn’t relevant at ALL

I.

Someone was going to die on these steps.

This had been Ivy Lee Palomo’s thought last year during the all-school photo, and it rose in her mind again now. The one hundred marble stairs leading up to the great double doors of Saint Constantine Academy were the school’s pride and glory, steep as the mountain, sharp as the blade under Ivy Lee’s skirt. With the cutting wind and snow glazing the stone more often than not, with the freshmen wild and wired on their first day of their first year, it was really only a matter of time before someone slipped and cracked their fucking head open.

It wasn’t going to be her. Not when she had Doc Martens and reflexes like an electric coil. Still. Ivy Lee didn’t want to watch someone die. She didn’t get along with dead people.

march

in march, i got back to the project i’d started in 2019 - AMT, my podcast! it’s a shakespeare retelling set in a modern high school; this excerpt is funnier and also more unnerving in context. (double, double, toil and trouble...)

INDRAJIT: What the hell are you doing?

[PAUSE.]

DEE (like she’s lying): Making pasta.

[ALL THREE OF THEM LAUGH.]

NONA: That’s right.

MORA: We have the keys to Mab’s office.

DEE: We’re using her stove.

NONA: To make pasta.

DEE: Do you want some?

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

INDRAJIT: No.

april

and darkling rears its head! all of my other projects have existed for at least a year; darkling (specfic king lear retelling) is... special. it was conceived in april, when i started hyperfixating on king lear, and i still managed to write an absolutely ridiculous amount of content for it. it was like the power of hyperfixation let me speedrun the entire process. which. okay.

iv: control

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

may

in may i wrote AMT episode 15, by which i mean that in may there was a day when i sat in my room with the door shut for literally five straight hours listening to the same three songs on loop as i wrote the climax of one of the plotlines of AMT. so. that sure was… a day.

ISAAC: Do you want… do you want someone to drive you home? Hawk, you’re worrying me -

HAWK (almost cutting him off): Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m here to help. With your… thing.

ISAAC (quietly): I… don’t know if you should be here to see this.

HAWK (a little louder, more audibly upset): Well - what else am I going to do? Go home and - and have my dads talk at me and - and not be able to answer them? Because I can’t? I can’t. I don’t know what to say.

[PAUSE.]

ISAAC (V.O.): I wonder if this is what he feels like, on the outside, looking in at me. Watching someone else hurting. Helpless and afraid.

He still fits perfectly in my arms. I rest my chin on top of his head and pull him close to me, like I can stop him from shaking, like I can stop anything from happening the way I know it’s going to. I bury my face in his hair. He smells so familiar. He’s so warm.

God, Hawk. I love you so much. You shouldn’t be here to see this. Something bad’s gonna happen. And you’re not the kind of person who belongs in a tragedy.

june

okay, honestly, i should talk about “night shift” here, because in june i wrote a whole short story in one night (and then foamed over it for a week), but i am still in the process of submitting it places! so i am terrified to put even a sentence of it online. instead: the other thing i did this month was to finish AMT! (sixteen episodes and somewhere around 175k, iirc, but don’t quote me.) these lines are the opener to the final episode!

RAHMA (V.O.): The combined series of sophomore year disasters stretched through November. It’s June now. It’s taken me… a long time to get this all put together. I was going to make a vlog about it, initially - well, calling it a vlog sounds frivolous. I was going to make a video recounting the whole deal. All of it. From when I kissed Avery Fairchilde to the very last night. I scripted dozens of drafts; I put together dozens of bullet-pointed lists of what to cover… and it was never enough. Because Avery and I weren’t the only ones involved. Even if I was only focused on the two of us, it wasn’t just the two of us.

So… I gathered up everyone else. The whole town of Ellisburg is still talking about the week the town went crazy, but it wasn’t just a week. There was a lot leading up to it. And I think if anyone’s going to talk about it, it should be us. The people who lived it. So here we are. The most ambitious Rahma Ashiq production of all time - at least so far.

july

every july i pause whatever else i’m doing to celebrate the birthday of aurum & argentate, twins from my oldest and dearest WIP The Mortal Realm. july fifteenth! mark your calendars. they’re princes, though argentate would really rather not be; you can read the full birthday piece here.

“Do you… plan to get dressed?” A bit of the usual humor crept back into Aurum’s voice. “Although if you want to speak to the kingdom in your underthings, by all means, you have my full support.”

Argentate scrubbed at his face. He wasn’t dressed, no, but the usual malaise hung over his shoulders like a cloak. Guilt. Nerves. The sick sense that he hadn’t done something he was supposed to. The numb knowledge that it was too late to change a thing.

“I meant to,” he said. “Get dressed, I mean.” The rest went unsaid: I have just been sitting here. On the floor. Thinking about how I should get dressed.

“Ah,” Aurum said, extending his hand. “The traditional route. We’ll save the nude speeches for the future, then.”

Argentate took his hand, stumbling a little as Aurum pulled him to his feet. He steadied himself on the closest wall, taking a few deep breaths. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. His hands found their way to the cross, again and again.

august

this summer, i wrote an entire draft of Valentine Van Velt is Dead, AKA “holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy,” AKA the weird little personal side project i keep tucked into my coat. interesting features include second-person narration from a narrator who doesn’t like the main character all that much. so reading it is kind of like the book wants to kill you? with an added dash of general melancholy.

You used to live here. That’s the thing that’s got you feeling so off.

You didn’t recognize your old house. I mean, you kind of did. You remembered that the road was on a hill. That hill felt like a goddamn forty-five degree angle when you were a kid. But if you didn’t have the address written down you wouldn’t have known it at all. It would have been just another little suburban house in rows of perfect little towns that make your skin crawl.

So now you’re in this diner looking out a gross smudgy window trying to block out the elevator music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling or whatever. I don’t know how speakers work. You’re trying to tune that shit out. The waitress comes over and catches you by surprise so you just point at some coffee thing on the menu so she’ll go away. For the record: you don’t drink coffee.

There’s a public library across the street. A little square building. You probably used to go there. The lady comes over and thunks your coffee on the table and gives you a kind of look, like she wants to know what in the goddamn hell you think you’re doing here and not at school. You sip your coffee and look out the window until she leaves you alone again. And then you spit it back into the cup because, for the record: you don’t drink coffee.

september

i spent september and october prepping for nano, so i was mostly working on darkling...

It’s late spring; still, at this time of night, on a rooftop, there’s a chill. The wind plays with the end of Ruby’s coat, with her hair. She hands the bottle off to Jasper, stares up at the fogged-over sky, wishes she were lying in Dany’s arms in Dany’s bed instead of here. Wishes, even, that Dany were the one on the roof with her. At least then they’d be cold together. At least then she wouldn’t have to imagine what Dany would say; she could just listen, and watch Dany’s flashing smile and her flinty eyes.

(She cuddles. This is another thing Dany does that Dany probably shouldn’t do, based on everything about Dany; it’s not like rattlesnakes cuddle. But Dany likes to nuzzle into Ruby’s side and rest her head on Ruby’s collarbones and toss an arm over Ruby’s chest, and hold her down like she’s worried she’ll float off somewhere. She’ll card her fingers through Ruby’s hair and hum. Even though they could get caught, even though she’s probably got better places to be - Dany cuddles.)

Ruby imagines it, momentarily, both of them on the roof together, sprawled like horrifyingly beautiful gargoyles, sharp teeth flashing, blood running hot. Up here - it’d be like they ruled the world.

But whatever. Jasper’s fun. He’s hot. He’s got a sharp tongue in a lot more ways than one. And she likes when he lets the mask down. She likes seeing the soft bits underneath. She wants to sink her teeth and nails into them so hard she draws blood. Masks don’t bleed. Ruby would know; that’s why she is what she is.

october

...though i was also in creative writing class in school, and thus ended up writing a bunch of poems of varying quality (my teacher had a real thing for poetry) and also one darklingverse short story where rory and cressida hold hands! which you can find here.

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

november

and then november of course was nano which was an adventure all the way through. (opening tumblr on the fifth day of nano to find out about d*stiel... was something.)

“Apologize to me. Or get out of my house.”

Gracen’s voice is very, very low. For a moment she thinks he hasn’t heard her at all. Then he spins, eyes blazing. “What did you say?”

Gracen watches her own chest heave. She pushes herself up off the desk, stands with the effort of pushing a mountain off of her back. Leovald is six-foot-four. Gracen is six-foot-two. In her heels, in the heels she must wear to be a professional woman, to be a lady - they are the same height.

Gracen wipes her nose. When she lowers her arm, there’s a streak of blood across the back of her hand. Fire shivers in her chest; her heart rings in her ears; her voice could cut steel.

“I said,” she says, low, slow, volume building, “apologize to me. Or get. Out. Of. My. House.”

december

and finally, the poem i posted this year! it’s called the beast sonnet, and you can find it in its own post over here (with commentary! how sexy.)

i kill the beast and drop down to my knees, my blade stained dark with blood of stygian hue, and for a moment these scarred hands shake free, and hold a world unfurled for me anew. but once-mourned victims, victors, vices find; fear winged me; now its absence strips me bare. my sword now dulls, my legs, my voice, my mind; the beast, pried from my throat, leaves no skill there. and still i hear it laugh, O DEVOTEE— O CHILD DEAR, NO GLORY WITHOUT ME.

i was quite productive this year; i have to think it was because i was avoiding things... the peak of my productivity happened over the summer and in november, AKA, college app hell. (almost done with the last applications! pray for me.)

a general breakdown of what occupied me this year:

(no, i don’t know why the “various other things” category ended up so large... i blame all the one-off projects i wrote a single page for, and also whatever the fuck happened in february. yes, i do know why it looks hideous; it’s because each of my WIPs has a theme color

thank you once again for spending some time at goose-books dot gov this year! what to expect for next year: well, i very much hope i can produce AMT... also hoping to get darkling ready for beta readers, so keep your eyes out!

[dannydouni]

I got tagged by @faceless-dude for smth. And like. All I want to say is that you so much. Cuz I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for months and I didn’t know when would be a good time to post it. Or like update it or like just when I should do anything with it. So yeah. Thank you so much for helping me get the chance to post this :)))

“I’ve had this in my drafts for some time now probably since the Canadian thanksgiving and like only touched on it a few times, and well I never got to post it cuz I got well uuuhhh... shy I guess and at that time a lot of things were going down and stuff. And because of that I just felt like it had no meaning whatsoever anymore. So I thought I’d edit it a bit so it fits better and so I can finally post it and stuff.... sometimes it’s nice to get something out there after having it written down for so long. And well what better time to post it than now XD on New Years!. Anyways here it goes”

Hey guys, friends especially, ITS A NEW YEAR!!!!!! I just wanted to pop in and say that...well...thank you. And while I don’t really mean this directly to anyone so far (details for ppl that I know on this app will be written later on in this post). I know it’s usually super cheesy and just cringe and stuff but I honestly couldn’t care less about that stuff when it comes to the people close to me and to the people I love and care about. So I would like to take this opportunity to thank y’all. First and foremost. What the actual fuck guys. Why lmao. Out of everyone in this world you bunch picked the weirdest, ugliest and just straight up stupidest dude out there to be friends with XD, y’all do know there was much better than this out there right XD. I legit have no competition since I’m just so bad LOL. But still, for some reason, with all the shit I just listed y’all still decided it was a good idea to be friends with me. Y’all still decided it would be a great idea to stick with me up until now. Y’all still decided that I could belong with other people that I could fit it with you guys. That I could.... have genuine, real and just straight up amazing friends. I have absolutely no fucking clue how this turn of events happened. But I can say this with full certainty. You guys have changed my life. You guys are probably the main reason I’m still kicking around to this day lol. You guys are the reason I keep going and keep living and just keep enjoying the tiny gifts that life has to offer sometimes instead of pain XD. I still don’t and probably will never understand why or how god or life decided to be nice to me the few times I met one of you but I’m honestly so eternally grateful that I just... I have no words almost.... I just don’t know what to say sometimes. It’s honestly so out of this world how amazing and nice some of you are even tho I’m like the complete trash of this world XD. In all honesty.... without you guys I’d probably not even be here lmao... I’d probably would’ve just went on with my life with nothing to wish or hope for other than for the next day to pass even quicker than the last.... or just for days to just over as soon as they start... I won’t say more cuz that’s shit is personal and I’m not about to write that in public 😎. But like I know for sure that without you guys. I would not be here right now. So thank you. Thank you for everything. Thank you for all the memories you’ve given me, the countless nights you’ve made me die of laughter, The countless times you’ve made me choke and almost die from how funny something would be, the countless times you’ve made me think “damn I don’t ever want to wake up from this dream if this is not real”. Just thank you, for talking to me, for letting me vent, for letting me be there for you when you were there for me, for being my rock to lean on, for helping me go through the toughest of times like if it was a normal day. Thank you guys so much for treating me like an equal, for being friends with me, for playing with me, for inspiring me, for teaching me new things and helping me with anything I could ever ask for. Thank you guys so much, and while words will never be able to fully explain what I fully mean or what I fully feel. But I hope that this at least will give you an idea of how greatfull I am for you guys... i hope this will show you how thankful I am for you guys. I love you guys so much that the word love just can’t even express how much you guys truly mean to me. You guys have changed my life for the better and even tho I will probably never be able to repay that I’m hoping that I can do something to at least return how much y’all have done for me. And even tho a lot of the people I mean by this message are not on Tumblr I have a few that are and it is for that reason that I will thank you and write something for you guys here too. So here is the part for the specific people.

@frogb, Genny :)

Genny :D

GENNYYYYY >:D

Good God..... how are you even real XD well to start off, a quick intro :).... probably my only irl friend that is actually active on this app and of course MY BEST FRIEND FOREVER IN THE WORLD AND THE #1 PERSON IN MY LIFE >:), I want to take this opportunity to just thank you again (I know I’ve said a a bunch of times and you probably hate me for saying it a lot XD, that along with sorry :(((( I can’t really control that Lmao but I’m getting better at it right :D). You....you’re my best friend :)... you have changed my life for the better way too many times cuz. I’ve honestly lost count dude. I’ve lost count. I just want you to know that even tho I said that the first thing I wrote on this post was meant for a bunch of people. I was really mainly thinking about you when I wrote it. Ever since you’ve been part of my life. You have made sure to change it completely. And only for the good and for the better. I don’t think you have a genuine idea of how much you’ve changed my life and how much you’ve made me happy :)... thank you Genny thank you so much for being the best thing to ever happen to me. Genny you truly are the best most amazing, kindest, nicest, loveliest, most wonderful, most talented person I’ve ever met. Look I won’t write my full thing here since...well I’ll say the rest to you directly. But well .. Genny... I love you... I love you so fucking much alright :D thank you for being the highlight of my life. Thank you for being you Genny and thank you for being here for me and just being my best friend in the world :)

@ritsu-in-a-maid-dress , heyyy duuuudee buddy chum buddy pal XD (don’t ask lmao), I know we like met only a few weeks ago actually idk maybe at the point when I actually decide to post this it’ll be months or like a year 😳 (and if it is HOLY SHIT WTF I HOPE I ACTUALLY TOLD YOU SOMETHING IN THAT TIME CUZ DAMN) and well so far, you have been nothing but an amazing, way too nice, handsome friend that has somehow probably one of the sweetest hearts out there. You’re actually so fucking funny and have made my day much better sometimes just from the very few talked we’ve had lmao (correction now it’s actually been quite a few 😳and honestly they’re getting to much better and funnier so thank you so much for making me laugh :D (oh and I will never forget that one call we had for 3 FUCKING HOURS DUDE!!!! THAT WAS AWSOME!!!) ) and while at first I was very shy to even talk to you. I’m happy that I can comfortably say hi without any regrets or anything lmao. I will tell you something I’m very thankful for in dm too cuz it’s kinda private :) so yeah.... thank you so much for being you and being my friend :D

@quellfy yoooooo duuuudde I don’t think we’ve ever really interacted on here but I’ve talked to you on the server and well I can know from there that. You’re just such an amazing and kind person. And that every time we talk I have a great time :)) I don’t know a lot about you but I do know that you’re an amazing artist who has amazing art (yes even when it’s not sad “pointing at alluka in snow drawing” amazing) and that you’re such a kind and I nice human being who’s been just super nice and good to me :)) so thank you. For being my friend and for being such an amazing human being :D

@faceless-dude yooooo I don’t think we’ve properly talked before but like :))) I really think you’re an amazing person and just super talented. Your art is something I’ve never seen before and I really really think it’s unique and just amazing. Thank you for your wonderful wishes. And yeah dw. I plan on keeping that promise >:) Gen will get her booties kicked just like you asked XD

@kur-upira we probably only interacted a few times. But in those few times. I could tell what kind of person you are and how much of an amazing person you are :D. I can tell you that just from those few times. I was able to see how much of a beautiful, talented (yes holy shit. I cannot stress this enough. I love your artstyle and good god it’s so good everything from the actual drawings to the shading to the colouring. It’s amazing dude. I really mean that. It’s one of the most unique and most beautiful artstyles I’ve ever seen), friendly and just amazing human being you are :))) thank you for those few interaction (which probably took me whole days to respond to because of anxiety and bs XD sorry about that lmao) and yeah. I would absolutely love to get to know you better and to interact more with each other :D

@starrynarwhale, I know we like pretty much only interacted like twice with each other but from those few times. I knew that you were a wonderful person :) not just an amazing person. But a very talented one too :D (your art is amazing dude. It’s really great. Not only that but like. Can I just say that. Your frog gon fridays are godly dude. They’re always so fucking cool and wholesome 🥺🥺I love them so much. Amazing) you seem like a very kind and amazing person so yeah :)) I’d love to get to know you better :D

@catboyyouko yooooo. I know we probably have only interacted once but let me tell you dude. You’re a wonderful, amazing, nice, kind and extremely talented human being. (Dude you don’t understand. Your art is fucking amazing. Not only that but your comics are so goddamn great too. Not just in an art way but in a story way too. It’s just always so amazing) oh and also like... I see that you vent a lot and stuff and just wanted to let you know that if you ever needed someone to talk to or vent to. I’m here for you. I feel like you’re such an amazing person and I would love to get to know you better :) so yeah. If you ever need anyone to talk to. I’m here alright :)

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE. I LOVE YOU ALL SO FUCKING MUCH

And if I didn’t @ you I promise It’s just cuz I’m too scared to bother you and @ Ing this many ppl has already made my anxiety skyrocket.

[cuttoothed]

‘Together forever’ with jonmartin?

I wrote a short post a few months ago about Martin and Jon both trying to propose to each other, to Daisy's amusement and Basira's annoyance. Never let it be said I'm above recycling my throwaway ideas into fic form!

Please note that Basira's advice is correct here, and Daisy is just being a troll, because she knows these idiots. Thanks for the prompt!

*

“So when are you going to make an honest man out of him?”

Martin spends a second choking around a mouthful of pasta, before looking at Daisy with an expression approaching alarm. He’s much too easy to fluster, honestly, she hardly has to try. After years of being mates, you’d think he’d be used to it.

“Sorry?”

“Jon. When are you finally going to marry him?”

“I don’t - what’s brought this on?”

Daisy shrugs and takes a bite of her sandwich, chewing it thoughtfully for a few moments.

“Dunno,” she lies, smoothly. “Just, you two’ve been together how long now?”

“Nearly four years.”

“Four years,” she nods. “And you’re both stupid for each other. Thought you’d’ve taken the plunge by now.”

“I - I’ve never really thought about it,” Martin lies, badly. “I mean, the whole marriage thing, it’s a bit of a scam, isn’t it?”

“The whole wedding thing is a scam, if you let it be. Marriage has benefits - tax, health stuff. Plus you want to marry him.”

“No I - ” Martin drops the pretense and sighs. “I mean, I suppose it might be nice, but I’m really not bothered. And I know Jon isn’t interested in that sort of thing.”

“How d’you know that?”

“Well, at your wedding he wouldn’t shut up about how it’s an outdated institution, and he couldn’t understand what logical reason anyone would have to want to do it.”

“Yeah, that definitely doesn’t sound like Jon trying to convince himself.” Daisy rolls her eyes and takes another bite of her sandwich. Martin looks somewhere between thoughtful and terrified.

“So...should I talk to him about it?”

“Nah,” Daisy wrinkles her nose. “I’d just propose to him. It’s more romantic.”

“Really?! But - but aren’t you supposed to discuss it first? What if he says no?”

“I mean if he says no, then no loss, you just carry on as before, right? You got any special occasions coming up soon?”

“Well, I mean our anniversary is in a few weeks. We’re not doing anything big, just going for dinner.”

“Perfect,” says Daisy, nodding sagely. “Do it then.”

A giddy smile spreads across Martin’s face, and Daisy smiles inwardly. She does enjoy these lunches.

*

“All right,” says Jon. “Here’s the latest draft.”

“Sixth draft,” Basira notes, sipping her gin and tonic. Jon takes a deep breath.

“Martin,” he begins in declamatory style. “Over the past decade, my opinions of what is important and what is trivial have shifted drastically. You have shared in the experiences, good and bad, that have shaped those changes, and you understand the solemnity with which I say that the people I care for are the most important thing in my life. You are the person I care for most, and while I know that the idea of two people being together forever is trite - not to mention impossible - I want to come as close to that ideal as possible with you. I want our lives to be irrevocably entwined, and I want to be able to say that officially, legally, I belong to you and you to me. Will you marry me?”

He pauses and gives Basira a hopeful look. She casts about for something to say.

“Well…it’s a bit shorter?”

“Right. You’re saying it still needs work.”

“It’s - there’s nothing wrong with what you’re saying, Jon. It’s just - do you really need to make a speech at him?”

“It’s important to - to put it in context. To explain why I’m asking him. So he knows how much it means. How much he means.”

“Okay, it’s just that right now it sort of sounds like you’re trying to convince him to say yes, and...that’s not the point of a proposal. Not these days. I’ve told you already, you need to talk to Martin about this in advance. The proposal can be a surprise, but the fact that you want to marry him shouldn’t be.”

“I - I know, I should…”

“But you’re not going to, right?”

Jon squirms uncomfortably, looking down at his drink. Basira sighs. If this man ever learns to have a real, honest conversation without having it dragged out of him, she’ll eat her left shoe. He’s just lucky that Martin’s crazy for him, and that Basira has Daisy on the case. She decides to take pity on him and change the subject.

“Did I tell you I heard from Melanie last week? She’s backpacking in Ecuador.”

*

“So how was your lunch with Martin?”

“Good,” says Daisy, scooting up on the sofa to make space. “That place does really nice sandwiches.”

Basira sets down two mugs of tea and then plops down beside her wife, reaching for the chocolate digestives on the table.

“I meant more on the...detective side of things?” she nudges. Daisy gives a wolfish grin, which Basira knows means trouble.

“Well he definitely wants to marry Jon, no worries there. Actually he’s going to propose.”

“Daisy…”

“On their anniversary.”

“Daisy!” Basira gasps, tapping her hand disbelievingly against Daisy’s shoulder. “I told you to find out if Martin would say yes when Jon proposes, not - not set up a rival proposal! You know Jon’s planning to ask on their anniversary. I’ve been helping him with his proposal for two bloody months now.”

Daisy shrugs, and crunches into a biscuit.

“It’s funnier this way,” she says through a mouthful of crumbs. “If that pair of idiots can’t decide to get married without our help, they’ll take what they’re given. Besides, ‘s not like either of them’ll say no. Just a matter of who gets it out first.”

Basira stares at her for a few seconds. She’s always known Daisy is devious, but this is absolutely underhanded and devilish.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you,” she says, and Daisy grins again.

“Think we can get a table at the same restaurant that night?”

*

In the end they don’t see the proposals in person, because Daisy classes it too obvious, poor surveillance technique. She does pay a waiter to film the whole thing on his phone, however, and though a little jumpy, the footage clearly shows the events.

They see Jon muttering under his breath as they finish dinner, clearly rehearsing. Martin patting his jacket pocket repeatedly. A bottle of champagne being popped, and then Jon sliding out of his chair to one knee as Martin fumbles out the ring box and extends it across the table. The two of them staring at each other in bewilderment for several long moments. Then both of them in their feet and talking at once, though the words can’t be heard, flustered and gesturing.

In the end the two of them come together, embracing, Martin laughing and Daisy swears that Jon is crying. They actually get a round of applause from the other diners, which Basira scoffs at.

“We didn’t make such a big deal out of getting married.”

“We’re not idiots,” Daisy reminds her, and kisses her temple.

“Do you think they’ll be annoyed when they figure it out?”

Daisy snorts.

“I’m expecting special thanks at the wedding.”

[sporesgalaxy]

You know what? Fuck it. Here's the whole ass WIP script for the Danny Phantom/Ben 10/Deadpool crossover nightmare, which is called #follow ur crossover dreams, by the way. I think copy-pasting on my phone is gonna delete some italics but whatever.

Reminder that it's still a really early draft with a lot I plan on changing (wade Motormouth wilson doesnt say nearly enough bullshit, for starters), but hopefully u will enjoy it. happy birthday to me, my gift is letting myself share ideas without maximum effort

[BEN is running through a crowd of high school students, excitedly. He is on his phone] BEN: C'mon, Gwen, just tell me where to go! I wanna fight some bad guys today! It's been weeks! [GWEN is on a computer] GWEN: Ben, for the last time, you are NOT going into this alone! We aren't even sure what's causing this yet! Seismic activity at this scale is totally unheard of around here, and whatever's causing it-- BEN: Is gonna get it's butt whooped by the one and only Benn Tennyson! BEN: Don't worry, I can totally handle this! GWEN: Yeah, cause things always work out perfectly  when you say that. BEN: Just give me the location, and you can catch up with me there! GWEN: No, Ben. I'll fill you in when we know more, but.until then, don't run off. [BEN is dejectedy watching TV at home, when suddenly, there is another earthquake. Soon after, a newswoman reveals the epicenter just outside of town, and Ben gets an idea] [BEN gets off a public bus at a bus stop far outside of town. He looks out into a dry hilly wilderness, and down to his phone gps to confirm he is going in the right direction.] BEN: all right...I didn't wanna risk timing out before I got there, but I think I'm close enough now... [BEN places his phone gps at his feet, closes his eyes, and slaps the Omnitrix] [BEN transforms into Stinkfly] BEN: Well, I was hoping for XLR8, but I guess I can work with this? [BEN picks up his phonr and flies off] [when he reaches the epicenter BEN finds, embedded into a large hill, an abandoned lab of some sort.] BEN: ooOh [BEN enters the lab, and shortly times out, becoming human again. He sort of tries to sneak, but is clearly too excited/curious to be very effective] [The lab is full of rusting, inscruitable equiptment. Finally, Ben enters a natural cave turned testing area deep inside the lab, a cavernous room machinery littering the floor. There seems to be a fixation on machinery that we would recognize as Danny's parents' portal, but not embedded into a wall, so like a door attatched to a tube. Spare parts and dissasembled prototypes rest along the edges of the room, and a few assembled peices rest towards one end.] [Ben stands on the far south end of the cave, looking around at all of the strange wiring and such.] BEN: I wonder if this is Plumber tech... [BEN kicks a bundle of cords on the floor, and the sound echoes through the room.] [Then, a stranger sound eminates from somewhere just outside of the cavern. And another, similar, closer sound is accompanied by a visible flash. And then-- in a green streak, DANNY bursts into the air in the cavernous space, and then hits the floor and skids. When he stops, he turns human as he falls unconscious] [BEN has no fucking idea what is going on] BEN: uh...h...HEY. ARE YOU...OKAY? DANNY: ... BEN: HELLO? HELO-O? DP: ya think he's dead? BEN: AUGH!!!! [BEN jumps violently, very surprised by Deadpool's presence, and takes a step back] BEN: Who the heck are you?! DP: Call me Deadpool! [BEN gives him a look of utter disbelief. That is the stupidest superhero name he's ever heard. He's about to say that, but then,] DANNY: [groans] DP: [hops down. Puts a hand out, signalling for Ben to stay] Stay here, kid. [Ben is offended to be belittled even if it's reasonable. He stands with an angry look on his face for a moment before following just a few steps behind deadpool, hand at the ready above his watch.] [DP veeery cautiosly walks over to Danny and then....abruptly switches gears, standing up straight and gently bumping the boy's shoulder with his foot] DP: hey. hey. get up. DANNY: five more minutess.... DP: ...7Your mom made pancakes? [DANNY's eyebrows furrow. He groans again. He props himself up, and rubs his head. He's covered in dirt and some blood. He opens his eyes and his expression is full of exhaustion and dread as he processes his unfamiliar surroundings. He looks up at Deadpool] DANNY: ...........I don't smell any pancakes. [DEADPOOL and DANNY stare at eachother for a moment. DANNY seems to be waiting for something. He suddenly looks at BEN, incredulous] DANNY: So are either of you going to attack me, or are we having a staring contest? BEN: I dunno, are YOU going to attack? [DANNY is so tired. He's had a long day] DANNY: I'd prefer not to, but it tends to happen a lot. DP: Well that's depressing! BEN: Well if none of us are fighting, I have a question. BEN: Where'd you two come from? DANNY: Ghost portal. DP: Time travel. BEN: ... BEN: You're not giving me much to work with, here. [BEN points to DANNY] BEN: Especially you. I get time travel, I can live with that-- DP: Thank god. BEN: --But, "ghost portal?" Like a portal for ghosts? Are you dead?? [DP slowly prods Danny with his foot again. Danny is too busy suddenly realizing that he's in human form to be concerned with that] DANNY: I--uh-- BEN: Was that what was up with the green energy? DANNY: Maybe I just went through the ghost portal, ok? I--where are we? BEN: Somewhere on the outskirts of Bellwood, Nevada. DANNY: Nevada? BEN: Nevada DANNY: Huh. DANNY: And why are you here? BEN: [excited to sound smart] There was some unnatural seismic activity around here, and I came to check it out, see if it was anything nefarious. BEN: [cocky] You know, usual superhero stuff. [Danny is a little shocked. He's never really met another superhero before, who wasn't a clone, or accusing Danny of being evil or something] DANNY: oh. BEN: What? DANNY: You're...you're really a superhero? DP: You're like 12 is that safe? [What is the deal with all these young superheroes but say it funnier] BEN: I'm 16!!! DP: Children trying to be superheroes never works out well, trust me kid. BEN: I'm not a child!! Why do you care, huh? DP: Cause I hang out with a lot of superheroes and the heroism business has never done anyone's mental health ANY favors. [DANNY puts his hed in his hands] DANNY: Ugh, tell me about it. BEN: Ha! You AREN'T a normal kid! DANNY: oops. BEN: What can you do?? Do you have GHOST POWERS? [DANNY bites his lip] DANNY: What about you? Do you have powers? BEN: I can turn into any of hundreds of aliens! DANNY: ...care to show me? [BEN looks at the Omnitrix. It's still timed out] BEN: ...in theory... [Danny raises an eyebrow] [meanwhile, Deadpool loses interest. He starts climbing on stuff, looking at the scattered tech.] BEN: Uhhh...can it wait a minute? I just flew here. DANNY: What?? BEN: [gestures to watch, grinning sheepishly] Alien tech! BEN: I swear I'll show you later. What about you! Show me yours! [Deadpool arches an eyebrow at them in the distance] DANNY: ...I guess, since you already guessed it... BEN: What are you so worried about? Ha, haven't you ever met another superhero before? [Ben was sort of kidding, but...] DANNY: BEN: DANNY: Uh, no. Not really. BEN: ...So do you fight bad guys all on your own? DANNY: Uh, yeah? I'm kinda the only person who can. [Reconsiders, and adds with bitterness] Well, the only one who can and will. [Ben thinks about that for a second. He knows how it feels to think you're the only person who can save the world, but Ben is usually wrong when he assumes that's the case. He doesn't like imagining how he'd feel without all the support he's gotten in his hero-ing career. He's genuinely concerned for Danny.] [Danny notices the concern in Ben's expression. Ben seems to be about to say something, but Danny suddenly feels insecure about being pitied. He finally stands up, brushing himself off] DANNY: But like, I have friends, and plenty of tech they can use to help me out. I'm just the only...I guess I'm the only superpowered person willing to deal with fighting ghosts all the time, okay? Whatever! I've been at it for 2 years, I'm used to it. [Ben then adds something together in his head] BEN: Wait, have you never heard of me? Ben 10? DP: Wow! Humble! BEN: No, seriously! Never? Have you ever seen any aliens? DANNY: Uh, no? BEN: Where are you from? DANNY: Colorado. BEN: I've saved the world, like, several times. [DANNY and DP raise an eyebrow each] BEN: Publicly!! People know about me! I'm a big deal!! This is--You guys aren't from here. I need to take you to the Plumbers, so we can-- [A portal powers up again. DANNY seems to suddenly remember something. He goes stiff] DANNY: Oh no. BEN: What? Is that the Ghost Portal? DANNY: Yeah. And you're about to meet the guy who punched me through it. [DP rejoins them to look at the threat] DP: Oh, now that you two have your shit figured out, I should mention I'm from another universe. BEN: WHAT! You said time travel! DP: Yeah, time travel gone horribly, horribly wrong. BEN: How??? I've time travelled a few times and never seen anyine mess it up that bad. DANNY: Yeah since when does time travel take you to other universes? DP: OH SO WE'RE ALL TIME TRAVEL EXPERTS HERE ARE WE??? I'm not telling you two how to live YOUR lives! DP: How about I start bragging about being a superhero expert! Neither of you even know what an X-man *IS!* BEN: Like from the comics? [DP looks at Ben. He won't say it out loud but his expression says "WHAT THE FUCK DUDE"] [BEN shrugs]

[time to get DISJOINTED!!! Here's 2 comic transcripts]

...[some fighting I havent written yet]...

DP: DANNY WHY IS YOUR GHOST DAD SO HOT?? DANNY: HE'S NOT MY DAD. PLEASE DON'T CALL HIM THAT, IT'S A WHOLE *THING* WITH HIM-- [VLAD beams] VLAD: Now, Daniel, is that any way to speak to your father?? DANNY: SEE?! Now he'll never shut up about it! VLAD: I've had enough of your sass, young man! You're GROUNDED. [VLAD spikes Danny into the ground HARD.] [DP is pissed off now. He reaches for his katanas.] DP: Ok I get the picture.

...[more unwritten fighting]...

VLAD: Well, now that I have your undivided attention-- [DANNY has just been punched into the ground. He's sitting up, now] DANNY: --You can start the evil monologue. Joy. VLAD: Evil is such a reductive word. Don't you ever get tired of being beaten half to death to protect people that couldn't care less if you lived or died? [DANNY stands up, with some difficulty] DANNY: You *would* think having a conscience is exhausting. [VLAD is taking a lazy step towards Danny every few moments] VLAD: ...Have you noticed where we are, Daniel? VLAD: Because it isn't Amity Park. It's not even in the same universe as Amity Park. VLAD: And it's not anywhere your idiot father will ever bother finding, seeing as it has nothing whatsoever to do with ghosts. [VLAD is standing over Danny, now] VLAD: Do you know what that means, my boy? VLAD: Nothing I do here can spoil my reputation. VLAD: And none of your little friends are coming to save you. [VLAD places a hand on Danny's shoulder, gripping too tight] VLAD: So VLAD: I'm going to make you the same offer I made you the night of the reunion VLAD: One. Last. Time. VLAD: Either abandon Jack and let me teach you how to really use your powers, [VLAD summons some ghostly energy between his hand and Danny's shoulder] VLAD: Or force me to make poor, dear Maddie file a missing person's report that will never be resolved.

[wow direct segue into comic!]

..[just a tad more unwritten fighting]...

[Vlad has Ben by the neck very far up in the air, and Ben is frantically pressing his Omnitrix] VLAD: [cackles] Goodness, I think your powers might be even more tempermental than Daniel's! It's a little sad, honestly. I was looking forward to a real challenge for once. DP: [on the ground, a distance away] Superpowers shmuperpowers [cocks gun, and fires a couple of shots at Vlad] [Vlad was watching DP talk, unimpressed. He becomes intangible, clearly no longer interested in Ben, allowing him to plummet to his death] [After becoming tangible again, and without breaking eye contact, in a flash of pink energy, Vlad is right in front of Deadpool, and violently pins him to a wall] DP: AWH, you can teleport?! That's not even fair!! VLAD: [close to Deadpools face, crushing his neck harder] No. It isn't. And that's just how I like it. DP: [choking] [thinking] don't say harder daddy don't say harder daddy don't say harder daddy [cut to Ben falling through the air, desperately, repeatedly smacking the Omnitrix] BEN: PLEASE WORK PLEASE WORK PL-- [Danny swoops in and catches him] BEN: [clinging to Danny, obviously spooked but trying to be cool] Thanks! DANNY: [amused] Don't mention it. [Danny puts Ben down on the ground] BEN: Um..where are your legs? DANNY: Oh, they uh...they just do that sometimes. DANNY: Is something wrong with your watch? BEN: [glares at the Omnitrix] It just does this, sometimes. [Danny sees something coming] DANNY: Well you'd better fix it fast! [Ben looks up just as Danny turns them both intangible, seconds before Deadpool is sent hurtling through them and into the ground] [BEN is grinning, watching his hands as they turn re-tangible] BEN: That is SO COOL! I've only ever gotten to do that to myself! Y'know, as an alien! [DANNY was looking at DP's crater, but turns to BEN, surprised at the genuine enthusiasm] DANNY: [maybe blushing a little?] Uh, thanks! [BEN grins at him, and Danny smiles back. They're cute.] [Deadpool's hand pops out of the crater, waving (flailing)...reassuringly?] DP: Don't worry about me, all he did was break [groans] most of my bones. [Danny grabs Ben and pulls him out of the way before Vlad fires an energy blast at Deadpool] VLAD: Still think you can manage without superpowers? [DP sits up painfully and slowly, and coughs] DP: Ac-- [Vlad hits him with a copious amount of energy blasts for an unnecessarily long time as he slowly lowers to the ground] [When Vlad lands and stops firing, he turns around to face Danny and Ben] VLAD: Where were we, Daniel? [Danny is horrified. He's gripping a fistful of Ben's shirt like his life depends on it, expecting to have to save him a third time. Ben is a bit shaken but still determined, and holds his hand at the ready over the Omnitrix] VLAD: ...That was rhetorical, my boy. I had just asked you a very simple question. VLAD: [turning his gaze to Ben] And I don't want to repeat myself. [Ben is not quite picking up on Vlad's thinly veiled threat. Danny, bug-eyed, follows Vlad's gaze to Ben, and is clearly absolutely terrified to be responsible for the deaths of two people he just met. Danny tightens his grip on Ben's shirt.] DANNY: ...I-- [a gunshot hits Vlad from behind. Vlad is completely shocked] [behind him, DEADPOOL is sitting up in the crater, charred to all hell but somehow still alive. He appears to only have one (barely) functioning arm left, which is holding the smoking gun] DP: I never said I didn't have any superpowers, jackass. [DP narrows his eyes] DP: I just like guns. [DP tries to shoot VLAD a few more times, but VLAD has turned intangible, and flies to a safer distance] Vlads gonna say some shit and run off Im not done yet but hoo boy. Oh man.

[birbleafs]

[fic] Strange Creatures

Series: Artemis Fowl Rating: G Genre: Friendship & Humour, Post-series Character(s): Beckett Fowl, Myles Fowl, Mulch Diggums, Juliet Butler, Holly Short and Artemis Fowl II Summary: Mulch Diggums finds himself abruptly enlisted by the Fowl twins, Myles and Beckett, to create the best Eldest Brother’s Day gift for Artemis, much to Holly and Juliet’s amusement. A/N: Here’s my full piece for the Artemis Fowl Fanzine: A Fowl Mood! It was really fun to be part of this project - many thanks to the mods & fellow contributors for all their hard work. Thanks also to my bro Digi for being a wonderful beta ♥  There are still some leftover merch for sale if anyone’s interested. This fic is set a few years after The Last Guardian, without taking into account the events in The Fowl Twins (as I’d finished writing it last July). Fic can also be read on AO3. _______

“What strange creatures brothers are!” -Jane Austen- ~.*.~ Mulch Diggums was once again on the run and back to his old habits of skulking among dastardly rich Mud Men, pilfering trinkets and valuables from their homes. And once again, word of his not-quite-earnest—or legal, for that matter—endeavours soon reached the LEP’s ears. In fact, his current whereabouts had turned up as a flashing blip on Foaly’s screens when the centaur had been running one of his routine surveillance sweeps of the surface. That, however, is another story altogether, one that Foaly would happily indulge in if you let him. But Captain Holly Short is a busy elf—short on time and even shorter with patience. So alas, Foaly’s tale would have to be shelved. For now, at least.

So it was that Mulch found himself abruptly cornered by an LEP Retrieval squad in his own home—well, he was house-sitting at the moment, but hey, same difference—just as he was settling into a nice, warm mud bath. That’s the thing about the LEP. Always with the atrociously bad timing, never an ounce of tact. So much for being role models, upstanding fairies of the People. The last thing Mulch saw and heard was a deafening blast as the bathroom door burst wide open, and the zipping sound of a fabric-like netting whirling tight around him. There was a flurry of movement as he struggled in the velvet darkness enclosing him, before he found himself promptly hauled back to Haven City and into the dimly-lit interior of a drab holding room, sitting once again before Captain Short. “Holly! Mon chéri… Compadre!” Mulch cooed, tuning his natural dwarfish charm up a notch. “How’s my favourite elfin lady today?” “Cut the chatter, Mulch. I’m sure you know exactly why you’ve been detained.” Truthfully, Holly didn’t have any hard evidence for Mulch’s arrest this time—not yet, at least. But Mulch had hardly ever been innocent, even when he wasn’t actively committing a crime, so it wasn’t too difficult for her to pretend the LEP knew of his most recent of illegal endeavours (which they didn’t). Besides, she’d lost a stupid bet during a party several weekends ago, and—well. You reap what you sow. Holly made a mental note to never take another sip of a certain centaur’s home concoction of sim-alcohol, recreational study or not. Anyway, back to the plot: She had lost a bet and now she had to pull this dumb prank on Mulch in return for a favour for a certain Mud Boy’s family. Holly could almost hear said Mud Boy’s tired sigh of disapproval upon hearing of his friends’ latest shenanigans. Still, she’d also promised Artemis she would visit the twins soon and she figured this was a nifty way to kill two birds with one stone. Technically, it would be two Fowls and a dwarf. Holly chuckled at her own joke, certain that Artemis wouldn’t have appreciated that quip at all, figurative murder or not. Before Mulch had a chance to explain his innocence this time, Holly began listing down the years he’d have to serve, the cell block they had carefully picked out for him this time, the terribly cold draft they had made sure would pass into said cell every night. And just as Mulch was about to get suspicious, Holly shifted gears and offered a compromise instead. Even though he was still confused and rightfully wary of the sudden turn of events, Mulch tentatively accepted Holly’s deal. And soon, he found himself whisked away on a shuttle topside, piloted by the Captain herself. “So where are we headed?” Mulch asked once he’d settled comfortably into his seat. “Now that it’s just you and me, Captain… I’m allowed to be privy to the details of said ‘deal’, right?” Holly was tempted to reveal the truth then, but she figured it’d be funnier if she let the dwarf discover it for himself. Mulch was a crafty one, after all—it wouldn’t take him too long to realise what was really going on. She only gave him a knowing smirk and murmured ominously, “All things in good time, Mulch.” * From the E1 shuttle port at Tara, it was a quick jaunt to the Fowl Manor. Holly could already hear the voices of the twins drifting over the wind as they made their way past the last cluster of Artemis’ fairy roses and to where the twins and their nanny Juliet Butler were seated by the fountain in the courtyard. Seven-year-old Beckett Fowl was the first to glance their way; Holly could’ve sworn the child had canine-like senses, what with the way he had whirled around at their near-silent approach. He was the very picture of innocence as he bounced up to them, his radiant curls and bright-eyed stare reminiscent of an eager golden retriever puppy. “Holly’s here! And S’Mulch Dinggus!” Beckett squealed happily as he launched himself at her. Holly embraced him warmly, before waving a greeting to Juliet who stood patiently behind the boy. The dwarf tutted, unimpressed at the butchering of his name. “We’ve been through this the last time, little Mudskipper. It’s Mulch Diggums.” “That’s what I said,” Beckett giggled, turning back to look at Juliet. “S’Mulch Dinggus. Funny he can’t remember his own name.” Before Mulch could get a protest in edgewise, he was interrupted by a small, polite cough. He turned and saw a bespectacled, raven-haired Mud Child appearing by Beckett’s side. Myles Fowl had the same piercing blue eyes as his free-spirited twin, but unlike his twin, he was the seemingly more precocious and finicky of the two. He looked every bit the likeness of his eldest brother, Mulch noted humorously—from the meticulously pressed suit and tie to the neatly-combed dark hair. Heck, the kid had even perfected the infamous Fowl glare to an art form, crystalline and frigid as an Arctic winter. “You’re finally here as summoned, Mister Mulch,” Myles greeted solemnly. He ignored the wet, icky sounds of Beckett blowing raspberries beside him. “Took you long enough.” “Summoned?” Mulch frowned, before a thought struck him. He grinned toothily at Holly. “So that’s what this is about, eh, Captain Short? ‘Detained’, my hairy as—” “Language, Mulch,” Holly said, stepping on the dwarf’s toes all while matching his grin with a serene, innocent smile of her own. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I had a Retrieval squad jump you back there in the house. But it’s not like you were likely to be agreeable and come quietly if you knew the Fowl twins had extended an invitation and personally requested for your…er, assistance.” “Is not invitatitions,” Beckett chirped as he chewed on a piece of purple beeswax crayon. “Arty said summons would do in the tongue of magicks, so we summons S’Mulch!” He gave a sagely nod, his mouth stained and flecked with purple now. Mulch gave Holly a look of disappointment. “Frankly, I’m hurt you think I’d even pass up the chance to humiliate my favourite Mud Boy, and what’s more, by teaming up with his own cute brethren. Okay then, little Fowl nuggets. What dwarfish advice would you need this time?” “First of all, we’re not nuggets,” Myles said coldly, just as Beckett clucked like a gleeful hen and made flapping motions with his arms. “I assure you that we are still one-hundred percent Homo sapiens, even if Beck has gotten very good at animal mimicry of late.” “I see this one’s got a great sense of humour,” Mulch observed drily. “Definitely Artemis’ brother.” “A-hem. As I was saying...” Myles scowled at the interruption, and Mulch held up a placating hand in apology. “Secondly, Beck and I, we thought it through for many weeks—Well, I did anyway. However, we weren’t able to make any significant progress in the lab even with Professor Primate’s expertise—” “Not quite sure where you’re going with this riveting story, kiddo,” Mulch muttered. “But I’m still listening, if that helps.” “—and after several failed attempts, we have conceded that we need help from someone with the right skills. Skills we do not yet possess.” Myles paused, his young face pinched with doubt. But his hesitation was fleeting, and he met both Mulch and Holly’s curious expressions with a determined gaze once more. “We want to throw Arty the best surprise Eldest Brother’s Day when he gets back,” the boy said. “So, would you please honour us, Mister Mulch, and teach us how best to make—” “Flatulence!” Beckett crowed as if on cue, punching a fist victoriously into the air. “Please, brother. Not this again.” Myles groaned. “You boys want me to teach you how to let a mighty rip?” Mulch asked, incredulous. “No, that’s not it!” Myles cried, exasperated. “Beck has gotten it all muddled! He means the fettling process used in pottery, not the crude effusion of intestinal gas!” He tugged frantically at Beckett’s sleeve, trying to stop his twin from belting out his favourite self-composed tune called A Song of Gas and Fire, to no avail. For two whole minutes, the group was forced to listen to Beckett’s high-pitched singing of “Pbbthh, pbbthh, rattle-boom! Gas and fire, gas and fire! Heave-ho, the window’s blown!” “Thanks, little Mudskipper, for that, uh, delightful performance,” said Mulch, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes once Beckett had finished his song. “I gotta say, you sure are a natural. But there’s still something I don’t really get. Why would you need my help for the surprise? Like don’t get me wrong, kiddos, I like you two enough. But what’s wrong with Holly or Juliet here, or even Butler himself? If anything, they’re better suited at picking out the mushy gifts...” He trailed off, thinking hard. “Well, I trust the Big Man’s taste for the sentimental, at least.” “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Mulch,” Juliet deadpanned, with only the slightest roll of her eyes. “It’s true Butler had some good suggestions for gifts, but this is a Fowl twins initiative, so we figured we’d let the kids decide on their own. Besides, Beck had other ideas.” “My ideas the best ideas!” Beckett chanted, beaming brightly. “We decided that we want to make Arty a sculpture for Eldest Brother’s Day.” Myles supplied, glancing at Mulch once again. “We know that Mister Mulch is highly attuned to the necessities of good clay work by virtue of his biological make-up— “S’Mulch is good with muds and gas! I wanna learn how to blast clay backwards too!” “—therefore, you are best suited to teach us how to sculpt and—” “And flatulence!” Mulch tried his best, he really did, but he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. He didn’t know which was funnier: the thought of the twins gifting Artemis Fowl, ex-criminal virtuoso and menace of the People, a squishy caricature blob of his miniature being or Beckett performing a pompous and fartastical symphony of A Song of Gas and Fire for his dear eldest brother. Either way, he was rightfully tickled and the twins were in luck. Unbeknownst to many, Mulch had spent some time dabbling in pottery and sculpting with clay when he’d lived amongst the celebrity Mud Men; he had chalked it up as weird hobby of sorts.  “You Mud twins are hilarious,” he said, once his laughter had subsided and he’d managed to straighten himself up again. “All right, I’m sold on this crazy venture. I’ll help with the sculpting of a masterpiece for ol’ Arty-boy.” From the corner of his eye, he caught a glance of Juliet’s smug expression. Her lips were curved into a wide Cheshire grin as she tapped Holly’s shoulder expectantly. The elf only groaned, before she reached into her back pocket to fish out a single gold coin and slipped it into Juliet’s fingers. Mulch frowned at the exchange, throwing them his best hurt-puppy look. “Running a betting pool on me and for only a single gold coin? I’m affronted, ladies.” “You only wish your crooked mug is worth half a penny,” Holly shrugged. “I’m being generous because Juliet’s a friend.” “Aww, I knew you were a big old softie inside!” Juliet sighed happily, reaching forward to teasingly pinch the side of Mulch’s face. “Now that that’s settled, someone can finally knead clay with the kids and get some work done before Artemis gets home from his conference this weekend.” She quickly stepped away, disappearing into the nearby garage for several minutes before she returned carrying a craft box packed with an assortment of smaller items inside. “These rascals had me running to art stores all over Dublin the past two weeks looking for all kinds of overpriced play-dohs, and yet hardly asked if I could help them to sculpt!” She grumbled, not quite unkindly, as she shook the items out from the box, laying them out on a patch of grass before them. Holly looked over at Juliet in surprise. “I didn’t know you were into sculpting.” She thought of all the hours the young woman had spent whooping over her favourite wrestling matches on TV as a teen. “Never pegged you as the artistic type.” Juliet snorted. “Pfft, me? Nah, I don’t sculpt. That’s more a pretentious Artemis thing.” “Why would you expect the twins to ask you to teach them, then?” “Well, I’d like to be asked first, at least! I took the time to buy all these fancy play-dohs for them, didn’t I?” Mulch leaned forward in interest, looking over the packets of “play-dohs”. He spotted several labelled as Creative Paperclay—at least Juliet managed to get some of the good stuff. He grinned toothily as he rolled up his sleeves, feeling a spark of excitement at getting to work with clay again. “Okay then, kiddos. Let’s get cracking and moulding.” * “What’s this Eldest Brother’s Day thing you Mud Men celebrate like anyway?” Mulch asked. They’d made their way from the courtyard into the Manor basement where Artemis had set up a work space for Myles’ messier experiments and tinkering projects. The group stood now before the large experiment bench. Juliet covered the top with a large plastic mat, and turning the craft box over, shook packets of Creative Paperclay and several plastic and wooden crafting tools out on the bench. At Mulch’s question, she turned and gave him a strange look, brows furrowed. Then she let out a short laugh when she realised he was actually being serious. “Silly fairy,” she snickered, glancing over the top of Myles and Beckett’s heads before she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper: “There’s no such thing as Eldest Brother’s Day. It’s just something the twins came up with but I’m not going to ruin it for them and tell them it isn’t actually a thing. I’m not a monster, you know.” “We know it, Juliet,” Beckett said suddenly, blinking up at her with those large blue eyes filled with mischief and daring. “But Artemis’ a simple-toon—” Myles giggled at his twin’s use of their brother’s old nickname, even as he fought to keep his expression stoic. “—and simple-toons need Eldest Brother’s Day. So we celebrate.” Beckett finished with a nod, as though he’d just gifted both his human and fairy nannies with his brand of enlightenment. “Riiiight,” Mulch said, shaking his head. He figured some things were best left unasked and unexplained, especially when dealing with incorrigibly irreverent Fowl children. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for that impromptu alliteration (it was the playwright blooming within him, he was sure of it) and turned back to the project at hand. The twins had already decided early-on the sort of sculpture they had wanted to create. After ruminating over it weeks before, Myles had settled on recreating a 5-inch figure of Jayjay the silky sifaka, the fluffy white lemur whose whimsical escapades were often included in the bedtime stories Artemis read them. Beckett, on the other hand, had chosen to fashion an honorary tribute to Artemis’ late Syrian hamster, Lady Maeve, poised upright on her hind feet in an impassioned stance, gnawing away at a two-headed wyrm. Once the twins had sketched out their preferred designs on paper, Juliet pinned the sketches up on the cork board on the wall for easy reference. Then they got to work. Mulch placed two cups of water on the bench, and proceeded to show the twins how to gauge the amount they needed for their sculptures and how to knead the clay to warm it up and make it more malleable. “It’s a bit like baking extravagant pastries,” he said as he cut a block of clay into various-sized pieces. “You roll the individual shapes out like this and then stick them together to form a whole creature. Like an animal jigsaw puzzle, so to speak.” “They aren’t edible or taste any good though, not like pastries,” Holly added quickly when she noticed Beckett staring a little too longingly at the piece he’d been kneading. She tapped his fingers away just as the boy lifted the clay to his mouth for a quick nibble. “No tasting?” Beckett asked mournfully. “No tasting.” The elf shook her head. “But I do have some special treacle and espresso power bars from Haven City. It’s much better than consuming bland clay. I’ll let you have a bite later when we finish sculpting Lady Maeve, okay?” It seemed like a good bargain, so Beckett closed his mouth and chewed at his lower lip instead, rolling his clay pieces under his palms with renewed fervour. They continued shaping their pieces. Mulch showed the twins how to score the ends of the individual pieces they’d made for the limbs with a plastic knife. Then they connected the scored ends of the limbs to the body, blending the seams and smoothing it down carefully with their fingers and dabs of water. They continued in a similar fashion for the heads, noses, ears, and tails. Once the twins were satisfied with their sculptures, Mulch carefully placed the pieces on a cool, clean shelf to gradually dry and set over the next 24-hours. When they returned later to check on their work, the twins found the dried sculptures were now off-white and grainy to touch, quite unlike the squishy beige blobs they had been pinching and moulding with their hands the day before. “And now for a good splash of colour to make your pieces really pop,” Mulch said, dumping several tubes of acrylic paints and brushes on the bench with much more flair than necessary. He had a paint brush stuck behind one of his hairy ears—it helped him feel attuned with the art connoisseur in him. “Jayjay has a mostly pure-white coat,” Myles mused as he picked out a few choice colours, “but I think a gold accent to his fur tips, ears and tails would bring out his features more.” “Gold, huh?” Mulch looked over the boy’s chosen colour scheme with approval. “Good aesthetic you got there, Mudling.” “A very Fowl aesthetic for sure.” Holly couldn’t help the quip, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Artemis would certainly appreciate the touch. “Lady Maeve wants to be purple like rain,” Beckett declared solemnly, having been uncharacteristically silent for five whole minutes. “Purple? But Beck, Lady Maeve was a golden long-haired Syrian.” Myles tilted his head towards his twin. “If you paint her fur purple, Arty might not recognize her.” Beckett’s attention, however, seemed to be two steps ahead of the conversation. He’d already dipped his brush with paint and was dabbing streaks of purple all over the hamster’s body. “The Lady requests a cloak of purple rain, so purple she shall be.” The adults could barely stifle their chuckles while Myles groaned once again in defeat. He decided it was probably for the best and turned his attention back to painting his lemur. It was nearly noon when the twins added the last dabs of paint, after which Mulch proceeded to spray a coat of clear acrylic varnish over the sculptures to preserve and seal the colours. Then, he stepped several paces back from the bench to marvel at the fruits of their labour. “We have finished at last.” Myles’ voice was soft, awe pooling in his eyes. Hesitantly, he turned to Juliet and Holly, and then glanced back at the dwarf, searching for reassurance. “What do you think, Mister Mulch? Will Artemis like it?” Mulch rubbed at his beard thoughtfully. Both sculptures looked very much like what you would expect of two seven-year-olds’ valiant attempts at artisanal clay work. “Hmm.” He clicked his tongue lightly as he paced around the work bench, reaching into his inner art critic for the right words. “Now, Myles: Despite the crooked tail, you did a fairly good job at carving the fur textures on your lemur. Plus, adding gold accents to the white fur is very innovative and makes Jayjay glow nicely under the light. A very regal and classic touch overall.” Mulch came to a dignified pause before the second sculpture, rubbing his palms together as if in deep thought. “As for Beckett’s recreation of Lady Maeve: It seems far more… robust than the original, almost challenging anatomy and even physics itself. But the bright mixes of purple and gold contrasts nicely with the green and gore of the flailing wyrm, adding a surprising dynamism to the entire piece. All in all, two very good attempts, my young apprentices.” Holly and Juliet were already sighing halfway through Mulch’s needlessly opulent commentary, but even they agreed with the dwarf’s final assessment, much to the relief and delight of Myles and Beckett Fowl. * When Artemis Fowl the Second arrived home from his two-week long conference on Wildlife and Biodiversity Conservation, he was surprised to be greeted only by an unusually silent living room, devoid of the typical sounds of playful bellowing and childish laughter. Leaving Butler to unload his luggage from the Bentley, Artemis wondered briefly at the absence of his two brothers and Juliet, their sitter, before he noticed a strange sort of rumbling noise and vibration coming from somewhere below him. Curious, he headed for the basement, moving cautiously towards the noise. It was there that he found the twins asleep and cuddled around a familiar rotund shape sprawled upon an old velvet sofa. The fairy had his head thrown back against the cushion and was snoring rather noisily. “Ah,” Artemis said, eloquent as ever. He steepled his fingers together, taking a moment to process the scene before him. “Arty…? Oh, you’re finally back.” Holly’s soft voice broke him out of his reverie. He turned to see his old friend curled up on a second sofa, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Welcome home,” she yawned a greeting. “Juliet’s in the kitchen fixing up some snacks, I think.” “Hello, Holly. It’s good to be back among familiar faces again. It seems that I’ve missed quite a party while I was away…” Artemis trailed off when he caught sight of the strange creatures placed on Myles’ experiment bench. “They’re supposed to be a surprise for you when you returned. For Eldest Brother’s Day.” Holly explained when Artemis raised a delicate eyebrow. He lifted up one of the sculptures for a closer inspection, his forehead creased in confusion at what looked to be a purple rodent gnawing on a plump string of green linguine—Beckett’s. “Eldest Brother’s Day?” Artemis echoed. He reached for the second sculpture—Myles’ lemur—before walking over to take a seat beside Holly on the sofa. Holly stretched her arms as she sat upright. “It’s kind of a long story.” “I expect so. Do enlighten me, if you will.” “Well, let’s see...” Holly began, brushing the side of her cheek with a finger. “Once upon a time, there were a pair of twins who, Frond only knows why, admired and looked up to their chaotically unhinged older brother greatly.” Artemis gave her a slightly wounded look, pressing a hand to his chest in a show of mock offense. “I’m appalled, Holly. You of all people know I prefer calculating to chaotic. There is a method to my madness, after all.” “Ever the theatrical misunderstood genius, aren’t you?” Holly rolled her eyes, even if she couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped her lips. She nudged his shoulder playfully with her own, a show of affection. “Myles and Beckett adore you immensely—you know that, right?” Artemis beamed, warmed by Holly’s laughter and the comfort of being close to friends and family once more. He watched his sleeping brothers, curled closely towards each other much like two peas in a pod, before he turned his gaze back to the sculptures in his hands. “I know,” he said softly, still marvelling at the twins’ recreations of Jayjay and Lady Maeve. And for the barest of moments, in the quiet that stretch comfortably between them, Artemis Fowl knew that this may only be the start of the first (of many) Eldest Brother’s Day he would experience, but it was already a very good day nonetheless. And he was content. —End—