#I loved the essay ask game!!! I hope you got to read many interesting answers

[peterstamatin]

The Beginner’s Guide to The Void

(by caspiancomic)

The Void is my favourite game that I’ve never played.

Released in 2008 under the name Tension, it’s the second major release from Russian studio Ice-Pick Lodge, following 2005′s Pathologic. If you are familiar with this foreign indie art game, you are probably full to bursting already with indie gamer snob cred, but I implore you to help yourself to a bit more. If you’ve gone so far as to play it, you’ve got more snob cred than even I, so congratulations on that. For those of you interested in experiencing it, which will hopefully be all of you, it is available to PC users on Steam, but for the rest of you, I recommend CannibalK9′s spectacular Let’s Play.

Let me repay my debts right away. In this essay, I hope to open your eyes to some of the thematic through lines of The Void, encourage you to experience the game yourself, suggest that in the future you think more fully and deeply about the thematic core of your chosen games, and maybe expose you to a beautiful, little understood, and criminally under appreciated diamond of a video game. But if all I accomplished with this essay was CannibalK9 reading it and learning how much his LP affected my ability to read and appreciate games, media generally, and life, I would still consider it an unqualified success. CannibalK9 speaks beautifully, a trait I admire in others and seek to cultivate in myself, and he has a great deal of knowledge and wisdom regarding this game. Many if not all of my own ideas are indebted to his observations of and reflections on the game. If you know him, or are in contact with him, send him this way. I’d love a chance to thank him for everything he’s done for me.

And before we get down to it properly, one last thing. Ice-Pick Lodge is, at the time of writing, running a Kickstarter to fund their next game, called Knock-Knock. If you’re a fan of either The Void specifically, or atmospheric horror games generally, I’d highly recommend chucking them a few bucks. They’re only looking for a modest $30 000 to fund the game, and even a tiny donation gets you access to the finished game, so please do go check that out.

But enough sentiment for now, eh? Let’s get down to it.

Once, when asked what Neon Genesis Evangelion is about, I cherished the opportunity to glibly respond with “everything.” It’s an answer that only makes sense to those already familiar with the series, and as such, was completely unhelpful to the person who asked me. But I maintain that it’s true. On a textual level, of course, Evangelion is about children who pilot giant robots to fight against alien invaders. But thematically, Evangelion is about religion, death, parent/child relationships (and as an extension, God/creation relationships), sex, puberty, loneliness, identity, free will, science, and basically anything you care to name. The Void is similarly weighted with thematic theses. The primary difference is that even on a strictly textual level, The Void is borderline incomprehensible, particularly on a virgin playthrough.

Still, that’s all just stage setting. I’m here to provide as in-depth an analysis as I can manage for a couple of The Void’s thematic hearts. Like Evangelion, The Void has a lot to say, and it says it quietly and clearly. For the purposes of this essay, I will be examining The Void’s relationship with death and the afterlife, and feminism and patriarchy.

But first, crib notes! The Void is dense with information, and I’m going to be referring to characters and concepts by their names from now on. The section that follows is more comprehensive than a “Beginner’s Guide to The Void” probably should be, but nowhere near an all-encompassing overview of the game. Some of the elements of the game that are not of importance for the discussion to follow- like glyphs, the presence and role of predators, etc- have been excluded from this explanation to keep the focus tight and the length tolerable. Also, where multiple characters give conflicting information on a topic (which happens all the time in this game), I’ve either attempted to include all the information, or focus on whichever version of events ended up being most true.

It features what you might call spoilers, but in order to progress through this discussion it’s important that we all know the characters and terms I’m about to discuss. So if you’re hellbent on a blind playthrough (the best way to play, according to CannibalK9), go play the game and come back when you’re done, the essay will still be here. As for the rest of us, let’s dive on in.

How do you feel? Dizzy? Overwhelmed? Confused? Well, believe me, it only gets worse. This information is presented gradually, obliquely, and resentfully by multiple characters all whispering different lies and half-truths in your ear over the entire game. Detangling this particular Gordian Knot has taken a lot of careful examination and consideration of the game’s glut of information. Even so, I am 100% open to the idea that I have misinterpreted or otherwise misunderstood some element of the game and its mythology. Necessarily, any summary of the events of the game is going to involve some conjecture, a bit of artistic interpretation, and your own interpretation may differ from my own. This is as close as I could come to the “truth” about this game, but the beautiful thing about The Void is that finding your own truth amid the cacophony is one of the most satisfying facets of the story. If the above summary doesn’t mesh with your interpretation of the events of the game, I’d love to hear about it. Otherwise, definition of terms aside, we can now jump into an examination of the thematic undercurrents of the game.

The world of The Void is married to death. The first character you meet, the melancholic Nameless Sister, is called Sister Death by her siblings. Throughout your journey, when you are approaching death, it will be Sister Death who warns you. Towards the end of the game, Sister Death will also make the ultimate sacrifice: she rips out her final heart and surrenders the last of her Colour to you to aid you on your quest. This act of generosity deeply disturbs the Sisters and Brothers, and I don’t mind telling you it deeply disturbed me. The characters of the game were shocked because “giving” in this world is either impossible or taboo, depending on who you ask. I was shocked because I didn’t realize until her sacrifice how much I really cared for Sister Death, and how much she obviously cared for me.

But for all Sister Death does to keep you alive, it is implied from the very beginning that our character is dead already. The Sisters, or at least Sister Death seem to believe you fell into the Void from above, while the Brothers insist you came up from below. Brother Triumphator insists that the Guest is “not alive, he’s quite dead.” In any case, Master Colour makes it perfectly clear (if his word can really be taken on the subject) that the only way to travel between Limits is to die. In the final leg of the game, Master Colour will also tell you that you are the soul of the Void- that you are the reason the Void is dead. Should that be true, you would be the wandering spirit of the well and truly deceased Sleeper, and therefor quite dead indeed. No matter how you cut it, the Guest is almost certainly dead, as the accounts of the various factions of the game only disagree in this respect on where you came from.

In spite of your posthumous nature, the threat of death still looms large over The Void. The sprigs of Colour you harvest to survive will periodically tell you that “there is no death in the Void.” This is, of course, patently untrue. Sister Death warns you early that beneath the Void is the Nightmare, the realm of Absolute Death. Should your hearts empty, you will sink into the Nightmare. In addition to this, Brothers can be killed in combat, and Sisters can be cannibalized with Aya’s Vampire glyph. At the end of the game, you will allow a Sister ascend, and if Colour is to be believed, travelling up to a new Limit requires death in the current one. As if that wasn’t enough, it’s made unambiguously clear that one Sister will ascend to the detriment of her siblings: everybody but the selected Sister, including the player character, must die for her to reach Breakthrough.

When we examine these elements of The Void’s mythology, then, we can reach a conclusion about its thesis regarding not only the afterlife, but life. Let’s sum up. In The Void, reality is described as being like a chain of Limits, one above the other, travelling up infinitely high, but with a definite bottom in the Nightmare. Travelling between Limits is only possible upon death, and the deceased will either travel down, or with a great deal of effort and sacrifice, up. The Brothers, nightmarish creatures themselves who believe yourself to be one of them, and believe you ascended to the Void from the Nightmare, refer to the Void as Paradise. The Sisters, beautiful human women in appearance, aspire either secretly or obviously to reach Breakthrough and ascend. Sister Ole and Sister Yani, the uppermost Sisters in the Void, occupy chambers almost uncannily similar to the Limit above, and Sister Yani even claims she has been there. From these elements we can draw the conclusion that afterlife and life are, essentially, one and the same.

What we perceive as the world of the living is merely our own Limit, and upon death our spirit will either sink into the Limit below, which we will perceive as either a purgatory like the Void or a kind of hell like the Nightmare, or we will travel up, to what we might call Paradise. The Void suggests that there is no after life: only life.

There is, however, an interesting caveat to that unique interpretation of the after life. The chain of Limits has a bottom, the Nightmare, which we could call Hell, but it is infinitely tall. The Brothers (who, it is my belief, ascended to the Void from the Nightmare) refer to the Void as Paradise, in spite of the fact that to our eyes it is miserably bleak. From this we can infer that the Limit above our own would be perceived as a Paradise. In fact, ascending a Sister with the Rite of Devotio is said to create a world “for” or “from” that Sister- a world both created from and perfectly suiting the ascended soul. This is all evidence that the Limit above our own is equivalent to the concept of Heaven. But, the chain of Limits is infinitely tall- meaning that “Paradise” is, essentially, relative.

In a couple of ways this is sort of depressing. First, it implies that something approximating “perfection” can never be achieved. Sister Aya refers to Breakthrough as “creating a life from mere existence”, but no matter how high you manage to ascend, you will never reach a sort of “Absolute Life” to counterbalance the Nightmare’s Absolute Death. The second way this chain of Limits can be interpreted negatively is the implication that there is a Hell, but no Heaven. The Nightmare is a very real and definitive dead end on the chain of Limits, but no such finish line exists at the top of the chain. This means traditional western concepts of Heaven- perfect happiness, tranquility, peace, and togetherness with God- simply do not exist in the world of The Void.

And yet in spite of this, I personally can’t help but interpret this positively. Consider it a facet of my- to borrow a phrase from CannibalK9- “gratingly optimistic” personality. For a start, as an atheist the idea of Heaven isn’t compatible with my belief system. But more than that, the idea of a final resting place in which souls spend the rest of time in perfect harmonious bliss is not in keeping with the tone of The Void. The Void is about struggle- tension, if you like- and it values hard work and dedication above all things. The idea of struggling your entire life to make the world around you a better place, and being rewarded with a higher Limit to work your craft on, is much more appealing to me than a kind of winner’s circle in which spirits congratulate themselves for the rest of eternity.

In his Let’s Play, CannibalK9 makes an inspired comparison between the infinitely tall chain of Limits and creative pursuits: you can always improve, but never perfect, your given craft. Perfection is dull. Everything interesting in life comes from tension, from learning, practicing, struggling, trying, failing, and succeeding. Why should the after life sanitize the most rewarding elements of life? In the cosmogony of The Void, there is no resting on laurels, no pats on the back, and no air of self congratulation. The end of every life represents a new opportunity to improve yourself and the world around you. How often have you looked back at your own life in abject embarrassment, wishing you knew then what you know now? Have you ever looked at something you wrote or drew several years ago and been repulsed by your own inexperience? Are you haunted by the time you were cruel or inconsiderate to someone who trusted you? Did reckless mistakes you made when you were younger have a disproportionately strong effect on the course your life took? In The Void, the end of every life represents an opportunity to approach the whole ordeal again with more and better wisdom, inspiration, trust, intelligence, and kindness. Consider it a New Game Plus mode for life. How many people here would prefer that option to an eternity spent strumming on a harp?

You might think it’s strange that a game in which a host of powerful male characters protect and repress a sorority of helpless little girls could be considered feminist. Is it possible for a game in which women are literally bound, have no power except their beauty, and depend on a male spirit for sustenance, could have a healthy and sympathetic tone for women? What are we to think of a game in which the only female characters are forced to provocatively pose and strip in exchange for the substance they need to live, like a gentleman’s club where the dancers beg for food stamps? Well, it’s my opinion that this game has deep, strong feminist themes in its very DNA.

When feminism and video games enter the same conversation, more often than not attention is drawn to female characters with strength and conviction. Well, no, when feminism and video games mix more often the result is entitled children throwing their toys out of the crib and making fools of themselves. But in the more civilized corners of the internet (they do exist), great attention is payed to Lara Croft, Jade, Samus- the girls who kick ass and take names. And rightly so- a woman who can accomplish any task a man can and doesn’t make a big thing out of it is commendable progress in an industry that is overwhelmingly male-dominated.

However, while these characters and games are great examples of feminist game icons, I think they all fall into the same category: feminist power fantasies. There’s nothing wrong with a good feminist power fantasy, of course, but it’s only a single facet of what could be a much larger jewel. The Void has a more subtle, more literary feminist streak. It’s my belief that The Void can be very satisfyingly read as an allegory for modern feminism- a woman’s eye view of life amidst the patriarchy.

The Void’s gender politics are extremely obvious, and impossible to ignore. The Brothers and the Sisters have gendered names even as factions. They are totally segregated by gender, and the Brothers are the exclusive wielders of all the power there is to be had in the Void. With the exceptions of Echo and Aya, the sisters are prisoners in their chambers, each one both guarded and dominated by their respective Brother. Even those ostensibly “liberated” sisters are only free to move about the Void at the behest of the Brothers. In other words, the women in this game are utterly repressed by the men. This isn’t a coincidence- the singularly male ruling class keeping the female population in their place is a literal manifestation of the concept of the patriarchy, silently handicapping women to benefit a small ruling class exclusively composed of men.

Although women in video games being attractive by traditional standards is nothing new, the way the Sisters’ loveliness contrasts with the monstrousness of the Brothers is significant. Divorced from its here strictly physical manifestation, The Void seems to suggest in this way that all women are beautiful (intelligent, courageous, selfless, inquisitive, creative, etc) while all men are ugly (vain, egocentric, hypocritical, self-righteous, pompous, and so forth). This is an extremely strong stance to take, and contrary to the opinions of many a Youtube comments section feminists do not believe that women are superior to men, and certainly not to the degree seemingly hypothesized by The Void. But, The Void does not strive to create an allegory representative of the real world, remember. The Void represents the patriarchy as viewed through the lens of its female victims.

As long as we keep this in mind, the loveliness of the Sisters and the striking grotesqueness of the Brothers will make more thematic sense. Through this lens, many of the character decisions made by Ice-Pick Lodge will come into focus. For example, the fact that the Brothers consider themselves the infallible champions of the Sisters, or that the Brothers consider the Sisters somehow dangerous or threatening, or even that the Sisters resent rather than fear their Brothers. Using this interpretation we can also make sense of the seemingly problematic concept of the Sisters being unable to free themselves: one of the core tenets of a functioning patriarchy is that it is a system in which women are powerless, subservient, and subordinate. If the Sisters were capable of fighting the Brothers themselves, The Void would cross over into the above mentioned “feminist power fantasy”, and would not be representative of a “pure” patriarchy. In order to represent an airtight allegorical representation of the patriarchy, the female characters are necessarily powerless.

There are two factions still to incorporate into this formula, though: Colour, and the Guest. Colour is certainly a masculine presence, and Colour in The Void is representative of power. The patriarchy is so entrenched in the Void that the very voice of “power” is male, and what’s more, power itself desires to remain exclusively in the hands of men. In the final leg of the game, Colour begins speaking to Golden Eyes constantly and aggressively. Although Colour introduces the player to the concept of Breakthrough, and teaches you that this rite ought to be performed on a Sister, as the game progresses Colour at first suggests, and then demands with increasing annoyance, that Golden Eyes perform the Rite of Devotio on himself. It is never suggested that a Brother could achieve Breakthrough- although they are explicitly referred to as being able to “take”, they consider Nerva to be poisonous- so Colour’s only option for keeping power in male hands is to ascend through his male vessel, the Spirit.

The final piece in this particular puzzle is the Guest. The Guest is by all accounts outwardly male. He has a masculine body when you view his hearts, and he spends much of the game successfully disguising himself as a Brother. However, the Guest lacks many of the qualities The Void associates with masculinity. He doesn’t speak, which contrasts him with the Brothers and their interminable self-righteous tirades. He also, strikingly, lacks genitals. Don’t dismiss this as censorship or authorial restraint either: any one of the Sisters will stand as naked as a newborn should you unlock all her hearts, and all their sex organs are clearly visible. In these ways The Void differentiates between a character who is a pillar of the oppressive patriarchy- the Brothers and Colour- and a character who is simply male.

But why is the Spirit male at all? The suggestion to me seems to be that overthrowing the patriarchy and creating a society in which women are truly considered equal to men is the responsibility of everybody, including men. In the Void, Colour is power. In a power-unbalanced society, evening the odds requires the empowered party to sacrifice power to the powerless party. The relationship between the Guest and the Sisters is collaborative- it represents men willingly and happily draining their own privilege and power and offering it to women. With this interpretation, it makes one male character offering power to women under the disapproving gaze of ten empowered men that much more significant: according to The Void, the power equalization between men and women is going to come slowly, from a dedicated minority of male feminist allies, and is going to be met with outrage and violence from the vast majority of men.

This makes Master Colour’s description of the barriers between Limits as a “glass ceiling” much more meaningful. By willfully surrendering his own power to a woman, against the wishes of the ruling patriarchy, the Spirit allows a Sister to literally break the so-called glass ceiling, and ascend to a position above that of even the Brothers. Now that we accept that it is the responsibility of men and women both to overthrow the patriarchy, we can make more sense of the Spirit’s systematic elimination of the Brothers. The Void’s contention is that for women to truly ascend, feminist men need to not only empower women, but actively destroy the patriarchal elements in their society and themselves. The Guest- the male feminist- literally destroys the patriarchy in his quest to empower a Sister.

Finally, the ultimate goal of The Void is coloured, if you will, with feminist (or at the very least, feminine) themes. The Rite of Devotio will allow one Sister to ascend to the Upper Limit- creating life from mere existence. This is tantamount to a kind of birth. If the Upper Limit is where true “life” occurs, then the Void is not only an afterlife, but prelife. You could call the Void a kind of womb, in which there exists the possibility for many different lives, but only one can be chosen. Even the concept of the Void- vacant, hollow, accepting- is symbolically vaginal. The layout and design of the Void even echoes the appearance of a uterus, fallopian tubes, and ovaries. The Sisters in their chambers could be said to be unfertilized eggs. In this analogy, then, Colour becomes seminal. It’s the substance used to fertilize a Sister so that she can ascend to the Upper Limit to be born. After all, in order to perform Breakthrough, the Spirit must reach a state of Turgor- turgidity, the opposite of flaccidity, being the state of tissue that has become rigid with the absorption of fluid. In other words, for humans, an erection. In this light, try not to think too hard about the fact that the oldest Sister is nineteen.

Well, that represents just about the sum total of my most concrete theories regarding The Void. The Void is a spectacularly nourishing experience, and I had to trim away several potential avenues of thematic exploration to save on space and time. In the future, I may return to The Void, and use it as a jumping board to discuss art, love (platonic, familial, romantic, sexual, it’s all there in some form or another, and every player will have a different reaction to every Sister), religion, truth and lies, how we define ourselves against those around us… essentially any topic you care to mention can be meaningfully addressed using the language of The Void. For today, though, I hope I’ve managed to enrich your understanding of this and all games, the way CannibalK9 nourished my own understanding of this and all games. Once again, I’d like to implore you to check out Ice-Pick Lodge’s Kickstarter, and for any PC users, don’t forget that The Void is available on Steam. If you good folks have something to add about The Void (and anybody who has experienced it must have something to say about it), whether you’re building on or tearing down something I’ve said above or you’d like to pursue your own avenue of thought, please feel free to drop a comment, or even contact me personally. I could discuss this game to the end of time, so it certainly wouldn’t be an imposition.

[proselfshipsafespace]

(I love how friendly and responsive you are to every ask, it makes this blog feel fun and interactive ^v^)

Anyways, I'm a soulbonder who both selfships with and is soulbonded to my fav characters from my fav shows and I love them all SO! MUCH! 💖 These characters are my partners, my family, my friends, and it's been amazing having all of them come into my life (I have ~25 now!). We play games together, we kiss and cuddle, they make sure I'm never alone, they take care of me, support me, I support them and help them through griefs they have leftover from their canon sources, and of course, we have kinky, sexy fun too 😉 I also love the rich worlds they live in and I love seeing what they're up to and how they interact with each other (polyselfshipping for the win, we are just a big love nest of interconnected relationships!) I would love to share the wonders of soulbonds/thoughtforms to the selfship community and have more of us be soulbonders so we can all smoochy smooch and be there for the autonomous/living character versions of our F/Os and have them hang out with us in our daily lives as much as we imagine scenarios of us and them together in various AUs. If any selfshippers are curious about soulbonding, what it is, how to do it, why would you/the benefits, etc. I would love to answer questions about it! (I also hope to very soon make a lot of thorough how-to and essay posts too) Also, it's possible many of us are already soulbonders (interacting with a character that has "come to life" in our minds) without even knowing it!

(thank you!! i really do try my best to give my responses or perspective or advice because ive seen other blogs in the past that use the same responses for things and i want to stray from that as much as i can and give my actual thoughts or responses so i appreciate it ^^)

soulbonding is interesting to me, and while i have tried to read about it, i got too busy or distracted so i just ended up squinting at my screen like an old person LOL but from my basic understanding of thoughtforms (NOT FROM ANALOG HORROR I PROMISE (LYING THROUGH MY TEETH)) and soulbonding, i feel like my adhd distracts me too much to be a soulbonder because i am WAY too focused on a million things that sometimes im just like "OH SHIT OH SHIT- oh hi blorbo :) i love that guy. OH SHIT OH SHIT-"

maybe if i make a thoughtform of my f/os theyll do my work for me /lhj

[breitzbachbea]

for the essay ask thing: 5, 10, 14!

I've finally got time for this, after I've been stuck at my uni library for the past two weeks for my presentation 😭 That's actually a thing - Because most professors over here in Germany, unless you are studying something like Amerikanistik or something with a more British/American focus, don't really do essays. My coursework so far has rather been little exercises to get the grasp of working scientifically as a Historian, doing presentations or diving deeper into the themes of a lecture. (Latter ones might count as essays, honestly). So what I am going to talk about are my term papers :)

Essay Ask Game

5. What is an essay topic that’s been floating around in your head for a long time?

God, I feel like I've been factory reset over the summer with how bad my depression was. I know I used to have lots and lots of ideas for essays, but I can't remember any. Except one, and I might as well talk about it, because I think I will probably write my BA Thesis in Medieval or Ancient Studies. A year or two ago, I got into a really heated discussion with a friend of mine about the whole 'Was Beethoven black?' thing. It was mostly me being mad at how un-scientifically such claims argue and how many layers there are to understanding the past. It did however birth the idea for a Thesis. Because I did think it would be interesting to look at how people describe other people in that time period, and thusly contextualize how they understood the world and one another. This then morphed into going through letters or other "Selbstzeugnisse" (Historical sources that are explicitly autobiographical and highly subjective by genre, like letters, diaries, autobiographies, etc.) by people who in some way, shape or form lived a queer* experience. And then look at another genre or genres of historical texts, like maybe legislation or pamphlets or philosophical texts, that also deal with 'deviant' gender or sexual behavior. Take a look at how people talked about themselves, how these things differ, how these things influence each other - Basically, looking for 'tropes' and 'stereotypes' of queer identity, asking where do they come from and maybe even find that some persist to this day.

*I do want to stress that I know that sexuality and gender is a highly different thing in each time, place and culture. So I'd have to first work out how sexuality & gender would work in the timeframe, place and culture I've chosen and then define what I'd treat as different from the norm. Moreover, I of course wouldn't try to assign anybody any modern terms of gender or sexuality, but, yknow, that people have loved people and have felt different about who they should be is a constant throughout time.

10. Has an essay of a classmate ever inspired you?

We don't write man essays and I never read anyone else's term paper, sadly. However, there have been some very good presentations in my classes recently that really got me thinking about the topics. One on Depictions of Violence in Ancient Art was great with how important and highly culturally specific the immediate interpretation of a picture is. Plus, I've been having Historical AU brainrot about Roman Masculinity and how it is entangled with violence ever since I've read the paper by Felix Pirson that the classmate picked as mandatory reading. Actually, add to the list of "Essays/Thesis I would love to write": Do we have any good surviving sources that could tell us about Gender in the Celtic World? (More specifically one part of the Celtic world, I'd love to go for Britain or Ireland, but Gaul or parts of Germany would also be super interesting

14. What essay are you most proud of yourself?

I'm proud of all of my term papers! And I do love the one I did about Curse Tablets at Acquae Sulis and how religious syncretism is one of the cogs of two-way Romanization that stabilized the Imperial reign in the Provinces. But I guess the one I am the proudest of, especially because it wasn't rushed (thanks to getting 2 extra months to Corona, sadly), is my medieval one. I took two excerpts from the Villani Brothers' Nuova Cronica and had to translate the Matteo one by myself, armed with nothing but basic Italian, a ton of Online ressources and context clues from secondary literature. The paper was essentially about how the Italy politics of the House of Luxembourg was represented in the Villani chronicles. I compared Henry VII. and Charles IV., with a focus on the latter because he was the class' topic. I'm just so proud of that one, I think it's really good and it reflects both how the political times had changed in less than 50 years and how differently both Grandfather and Grandchild (Henry and Charles) and Brother & Brother (Giovanni and Matteo Villani) approached it. The two primary sources I used talked about their coronation with the Iron Crown in Milan and their stay in the city - With Giovanni talking about Henry, you can feel this reverence for aristocrazy he still has and this hope for a more orderly Italy. With Matteo talking about Charles, you can feel HOW FUCKING MUCH MATTEO HATED THE VISCONTI. Twas fun! Definitely my most coherent work.

[theasstour]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟕.𝟓𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged and sent me an ask after last chapter ❣️ I might not have gotten through all the asks yet, but know that I see all of you and I appreciate you more than I will ever find the right words to articulate 🌟 Thank you for the kind words and for reminding me of how fun it is to post my stories on here! Love you sm sm sm 🥰

Tuesday, 4 November 2017

One of the worst things Y/N knew of was seeing someone she cared about go through something troubling. If she knew them well enough, it would be written out on their face and in their gestures, making it so that she could not ever look past it and pretend everything was alright. Her ability to read people, to understand their wants and to see when something was off, was something she had crafted over many years of being a people pleaser. Now, it came naturally to her to study a person’s way of acting, talking, being, and then make them happy accordingly.

She realised when she grew older that the reason she did this was so people would look past her body and like her for who she actually was. She hated herself sometimes for still giving in to this need to please people all the time. She hated the things it had made her do in the past, how she had bent herself over backwards for people who did not, and would never, give a single shit about her. Though she felt at home in her body, she felt content in it, these tendencies to constantly make up for how she looked, to make light of it or make people feel comfortable around her, still hung around. With absolutely everything she was, Y/N hated that part of herself. She did not have to make up for anything. What did she have to apologise for? For existing? It did not make sense to her, but it had made sense to those that bullied her in school and those skinny people whose worst fear was becoming fat. Y/N’s worst fear, because of this, was not being liked. She realised how it all connected now.

Y/N realised how this need to please people came into play as she was sitting in a seminar room with Hayden, Chloe, Thian, Annalise, and three others from the International Society that Annalise often went to. Annalise was whispering in Dutch to the other Dutch girl she had met, while the rest of the room was relatively silent. Hayden had put on some music to lighten the mood, but it was evident that they were unsatisfied and sad. They were eight people; a single game of Uno was being played in a room that had been made so that at least 20 people would show up. Hayden had bought five decks of Uno, only for the one they brought with them to London to be the one the group ended up using. Their eyes drifted to the door every so often, silently begging for anyone else to show up to what looked to be a disastrous start to their Uno Society.

After two hours, they had to get out of the seminar room and go back home. As they were cleaning up, Y/N walked over to Hayden and helped them put their Uno decks and everything else they brought, back in their bag.

“More people will show up next time,” Y/N assured them.

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I genuinely think more people will show up at one point.”

Hayden smiled at Y/N, though it did not reach their eyes. “If we don’t have at least 15 people by the third meeting, this won’t be considered a society by Helmond standards and we won’t be allowed to meet on campus grounds.”

Y/N felt a small tinge of panic at that. This was not usually the society people would jump to be part of, it would take a little while for people to want to show up to an Uno Society on a Tuesday every fortnight.

“We can hope more people will come, but I doubt they will,” Hayden said.

“There aren’t a lot of people our age who play Uno, though,” Chloe said as Hayden and Y/N made their way to the door.

Y/N furrowed her brows at Chloe’s comment, but did not say a word.

“No, but I love Uno, and it’s a very social game. It’ll be fun if a lot of people show up, you know?” Hayden said, closing the door behind them before they walked down the corridor for the exit.

“Obviously, people just don’t know what they’re missing,” Thian chimed in, showing off his usually wide, happy beam. “It’s a great idea, Hay.”

“Really? It’s not bound to flop?” Hayden asked, scrunching up their nose as if they could not quite believe what Thian was saying.

“Of course not,” Annalise said.

“It’s a nice break from all the assignments,” Y/N said.

“By the way, speaking of assignments,” Chloe groaned. “Y/N, have you started on the Othello presentation yet?”

“You haven’t had the presentation yet?” Thian asked.

“No, different Introduction to English Studies seminar groups have presentations at different dates,” Chloe said. “Since Y/N and I are seminar group E, we have it last. Monday, 4th of December.”

“That’s still a while away, though,” Hayden pointed out. “You still got a month.”

“Yeah, but the presentation’s 40% of the final grade. I know I’ll ace the essay, but we only get to have a five-minute presentation on Othello.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to talk about how Othello’s a sexist play in just five minutes?”

“Easy,” Thian said. “You talk about how it’s a sexist play for just five minutes. You love to talk, it’ll be easy peasy.”

“I love to gossip, this is entirely different,” Chloe complained.

“Not really,” Y/N said, cocking her head a little to the side as the group rounded a corner. “You’re essentially just gonna gossip about Othello and what’s wrong with him and the way Shakespeare wrote the play.”

Chloe stared at Y/N for a few seconds, pursing her lips as she thought. A grin spread out across her lips and she nudged Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Annalise smiled.

“And by the time that happens, the Uno society will be history,” Hayden mumbled, making Thian pout his bottom lip and wrap an arm around Hayden’s shoulders. They all made their way back to Dinwiddy, Lancaster Complex, and Fleming Hall, three of the seven different campus accommodations. Dinwiddy was definitely of a bit better standard than Lancaster and Fleming, but Y/N was sure that, had she decided to live on campus, she would have gone for either Lancaster or Fleming like Annalise, Thian, and Hayden. She said goodbye to all of them and went on her way, walking back to Haggerston while talking to her parents on the phone. They always insisted she call them if she walked out alone at night, no matter how many people were around.

The shops she strolled by were starting to put up Christmas decorations and sales, making Y/N long for holiday. She just wanted a few days off uni. Though it was only the first year, the amount of work they were getting was ridiculous, and Y/N felt like she either spent most of her time in the library with her Literature gang, or at a café with Nathan, doing uni work. The fact that Christmas lights and decorations were already making an appearance, gave her some hope.

Getting to Orsman Road was no problem, and Y/N hung up with her parents when she reached the flat building. The mere thought of her bed made her knees buckle, she could not wait to be snuggled up in a blanket and watching the newest true crime series on Netflix. Once inside, she got her shoes and outwear off, then walked straight for the kitchen. She halted.

In a pair of worn-out black rugby shorts and a black hoodie, Harry stood pouring water into the kettle. The muscles in his legs flexed and unflexed as he moved, making it impossible to look away from his thighs. Y/N could not find the right words to express just how much she hated those tiny shorts. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Except he didn’t. He was very much just trying to wear something comfortable at home and Y/N was ogling him. He looked up as she entered.

“Hi,” Y/N said, walking over to the fridge where she kept her oat and banana milk.

“Hi,” Harry answered, watching her as she walked before putting the kettle on. “Been out shagging old men?”

Y/N blinked a few times before looking over at Harry as he put a teabag into his mug. “You’re very obsessed with my sex life.”

“I’m just nosy.”

Y/N sighed, knowing this was true from experience, and went back to getting her milk out of the fridge. “No, I was at a society meeting. The first one, actually.”

“Oh?” She could see in her peripheral vision that he turned around to watch her. “What kind of society?”

“Uno.”

Silence settled in the kitchen, and Y/N could hear Nathan and Mason in the living room next door playing something on the PlayStation. Y/N could feel Harry continue to just look at her as she poured herself a glass of the oat and banana milk. It was not until the milk was back in the fridge and Y/N met his eyes, that Harry spoke again.

“Uno?”

“Like the card game.”

“That’s… a niche interest.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And you’re being judgemental.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide. “No, no, no! I-“ He stopped himself, taking a grip of the kettle and quickly pouring himself a cuppa before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, something frantic shining within his own. “It’s just a very specific interest and society.”

She raised one of her shoulders. “Which is what makes it so amazing.”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Harry said quickly, gesturing at her with his hand as if he completely agreed. Y/N wanted to laugh at how fast he was talking, as if he was desperate for her to understand that he was not being judgemental. “How was it?”

“Barely anyone showed up,” Y/N explained, sipping her milk.

Harry frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah, and at least 15 people total have to show up for it to be considered a society, or else Hayden, my course mate, can’t continue hosting on campus grounds.” Y/N sighed, looking at the ground. “Basically, if Hayden doesn’t find, like, twelve more people to join within the next two times, we won’t have a society any longer.”

Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but just then, the sound of quick footsteps could be heard, and then Nathan’s face appeared in the doorway. A grin spread out on his face as he met Y/N’s eyes.

“Thought I heard you come in!” he exclaimed. “We’re playing GTA, wanna come drive some people over?”

Y/N smiled at that, scrunching up her nose. “As appealing as that sounds, I’m gonna have to decline.”

Nathan pouted his lips and Harry stood watching quietly. “Why?” Nathan asked.

“Have an essay that I need to finish.”

Nathan sighed heavily. “Fine. Guess I’ll let you write that bloody essay.”

“Excuse you? ‘Let me’?” Y/N rolled her eyes and Nathan laughed. She gave him and then Harry a smile, making her way out of the kitchen.

“Have a good night,” she heard Harry say as she walked through the doorway. She gave him another smile before walking up the stairs and to her room. She quickly got out of her clothes and into loungewear, taking all her make-up off and finding a fluffy blanket she could sit under in bed as she started writing her Introduction to English Studies essay. She could hear the boys shouting and playing downstairs and drowned it out by putting her earbuds in and shutting them out.

She ended up reading academic articles and writing down an essay plan until she felt her eyelids get heavy a few hours later. Putting her laptop away and finishing her oat and banana milk, Y/N took her contacts off and started getting ready for bed. The door to the room beside hers opened and closed, she could hear Harry rummaging in his room, though the sound was not disturbing in any way. The only disturbing thing about it was the fact that it was Harry, but Y/N was learning to accept that. It had only taken her two months, but she was coming to terms with the fact that Harry Styles, an ex-good friend of hers and person she had sex with once, was living and sleeping in the room right next to hers.

Friday, 17 November 2017

The pizza at Domino’s was absolutely amazing, but working for them was anything but. This was only Y/N’s first shift, and she was already dreading her next. Not only would she be bringing home with her the memories of a horrible first day on her new job, but she would also be bringing the smell of greasy pizza. She would have to do a deep clean in the shower before going to bed, she was not rubbing that smell onto her bedsheets.

With some experience working for Pizza Express before, Y/N was already well-versed working for a pizza chain. Pizza Express had been her job from 15 until she moved off to uni at 19, which she knew was what must have given her this new job at Domino’s rather quickly. As much experience as she had working at Pizza Express serving people, she had never been the one to drive around delivering pizzas. After all, she had not gotten her license until sometime last year, so it had never been a possibility. However, in the job description for this position at Domino’s, it had clearly stated that Y/N would be working mostly as a delivery driver, something that sounded chill at first, until she realised she would have to go deliver pizza to people that would be anything but friendly. Or maybe a little too friendly. Because of her inexperience in this particular field of the job, she had another employer join her for her first shift.

Isla was very quiet, maybe even a little too quiet for Y/N’s taste. She would mostly just stare out the window, sometimes chime in to help Y/N pick a quicker route, or help her make out how much she owed the customer if they paid a few quid too many. Other than that, Isla did not really offer much conversation wise. Even when the two of them picked up the pizzas for their first drive, the first time they spent together, Isla did not say much.

“Have you worked here long?” Y/N asked, giving Isla a smile so she would know that she was actually asking out of curiosity and not because she felt obliged to.

“A year.”

Y/N nodded as she sat down behind the wheel, Isla sitting down in the passenger seat. “I worked in Pizza Express at home in Nottingham before I moved here. Dunno why, I’ve always preferred Domino’s to Pizza Express. Though, Zizzi is top tier.”

Isla only nodded slightly.

Y/N had waited for a response, but realising she would not be getting one, she started the Domino’s car and started driving in the direction out of the parking spot on the street beside the tiny restaurant on Homefield Street. Y/N almost drove right into the Domino’s mopeds that all stood on the spot in front of the car. She just knew that at one point, she would be driving one of those. She followed the instructions on the GPS, up Hoxton Street, in the direction of Lavender Grove. Without any radio on, the car was very quiet. Too quiet. It made Y/N break out in sweat.

“Do you drive around with deliveries often?” Y/N asked.

Isla shook her head. “No.”

Y/N whipped her head back in the direction of the street in front of her, trying to produce spit so she could nervously swallow. Her mouth was too dry. “You work by the till then?”

“Mostly.”

Y/N smiled. “That’s the best place to work, isn’t it? Don’t have to drive around, don’t have to actually make the food.”

Isla gave a feeble smile. “I suppose.”

God, all Y/N wanted as an okay day. All she wanted was for one single day to be alright.

Isla would twine a single piece of her brown, bushy hair around her finger sometimes, then put it behind her ear, only to go back to fidgeting with it. Y/N was unsure if she was nervous to be in a car with someone she did not know, or if she was just deep in thought. Y/N wanted to get to know Isla, to make a friend at her new workplace, but she did not want to harass Isla if it meant it would make her uncomfortable. It was clear that she did not like being this close to Y/N considering the two had never met before and would now be spending a good six hours together. Therefore, to not push away what she hoped to be a future mate, she only made occasional conversation and then left Isla mostly to herself. She could sense that was what her companion wanted most of all.

In a particularly dodgy part of Lea Bridge, Y/N was delivering three pizzas to what she knew even before knocking on the door, would be to a rather creepy encounter. The man that opened the door was bald with glassy eyes and a blue tee shirt tucked into his grey joggers. At the sight of Y/N, he grinned.

“Three pepperonis?” she asked, wondering if this man just really loved pepperoni pizzas or if he was hosting a party.

“That’s me, yeah.”

“Alright.” Y/N handed him the three pizzas just as another man emerged from behind him, and it was then that Y/N noticed the incredible stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Some 80s rock was playing from a stereo and there did not seem to be much light on inside the flat. Y/N suddenly felt very sick.

“You pre-paid,” she stated, more to reassure herself that she could just leave than to make them aware that she knew they did not have to go get any money to pay her. “Have a nice night.”

“Wouldn’t be nice if you didn’t stick around,” the bald one holding the pizzas said.

“Yeah, why don’t you come inside? Have a bite with us?” the other one offered. “You look like a hard-working girl, why don’t you take a few minutes off with us?”

Y/N could feel her heart begin to beat faster, her hands begin to sweat. “No, I have to get back to work,” she said, giving them a smile before walking off.

“Wait, we didn’t give you a tip!”

“Come back, love!”

Y/N tuned them out as she walked down the stairs, keeping an eye over her shoulder and her ears on alert as she made her way back to the car. Isla was sat on her phone when Y/N sat back down in the driver’s seat, putting her seatbelt on a little too fast and gripping the steering wheel harder than she had previously. She just wanted to get away from those men, she just wanted that shift to be over.

“You okay?” Isla asked. The first question she ever asked Y/N. First time she ever took initiative to start a conversation. Y/N really appreciated it in that moment.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, sighing heavily. “Just hate men.”

Isla must have understood what Y/N was talking about because she nodded, looking straight ahead at the road in front of them. “I’m sorry you met the worst type of customers on your first night.”

“Had to meet them at one point, though,” Y/N said.

“You shouldn’t have to meet them at all.”

Y/N felt that statement reverberate through the car, lay in the air between them for quite some time after it was said. She could not stop thinking about it as she drove to the next destination, feeling disgusted and angry. Had she stayed there a second longer, she would have had to resist the urge to knee them both in the space between their legs. This was just one of the stupid encounters that night, though the rest were more so on the scale of weird than disgusting. Like a man that was clearly high thanking Y/N for his frozen milk when he had ordered three Ben and Jerry’s, or a woman with her hair a mess, make-up completely destroyed, and just her dress robes on, snatching the pizza out of Y/N’s hand before hurrying back inside. It was a strange few hours, and as she drove the car back to Domino’s Homefield Street, Y/N felt absolutely drained of energy.

Walking home after her shift at 3:30am was next to torture, she just wanted to be in bed, cosy underneath the covers, and forget about the fact that she was working tomorrow night as well. Though the Hoxton Street was washed in the yellow lights from the streetlamps and the occasional car driving by, it was anything but empty. Drunk people were walking home from pubs, while others, like her, walked home from another nightshift, and some were just out for a night stroll. She walked without listening to music, not feeling comfortable with not being completely aware of her surroundings when it was dark out. Besides, she was so tired as well, listening to music would probably put her to sleep.

Orsman Road was completely deserted, only a few people walking home from The Stag’s Head passed her smelling of beer and cigarettes. This street was darker, smaller, and less busy than Hoxton Street, so Y/N opted to walk in the middle of the road instead of in the shadows. She felt less vulnerable that way. As she reached the flat building, she got her keys out of her purse and went to unlock the door.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

She jumped, keys falling onto the asphalt. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Harry standing there with the smuggest, most infuriating look on his face. God, how she wanted to slap him until his teeth fell out. While she contemplated how to physically hurt him, Harry bent down, picked up Y/N’s keys, and put them back in her hand.

“Don’t lose those,” he said. “50 quid to get a new pair.”

Y/N only narrowed her eyes, unlocking the door for them both and striding on to the next floor. After opening the door to the flat, she got her shoes off, and walked straight for the kitchen. She needed strawberries, especially after the shift she just had. The door closed behind Harry and she heard him lock it before taking his shoes and jacket off, too. As she turned around after closing the fridge door, Harry stood by the kettle, filling it up with water.

“Didn’t know you worked at Domino’s,” he said, looking over at her briefly, nodding at her black Domino’s fleece jacket before turning his attention back to the kettle.

“Just started.”

“How’re you finding it?” he asked.

Y/N sighed, leaning her hip against the counter. “Considering this was my first shift and I have to show up again to work another nightshift tomorrow…” She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “I’d say shite.”

Harry laughed, stopping the tap. “Tea?”

“No, I bought myself some banana and oat milk from M&S earlier, I’ll just have that. Thank you, though.” She gestured at what she had placed on the counter while he was busy with the kettle.

Harry watched her as she got herself a glass for the milk. “Can’t for the life of me remember you being a Tory.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, you don’t remember me hating the poor?” she said, putting on a posh accent, Harry could not hold back his own laughter. “Quite a big part of my personality, don’t know how you missed it. Now-“ She put the milk back in the fridge. “-If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go spend five weeks at my £1.000.000 18 century holiday house in Surrey.”

Harry’s laughter echoed through the kitchen as he put the kettle on, shaking his head at her. “No, but how’d you like your first shift? Anything like Pizza Express?”

Why the fuck did he remember that? Why did he have to remember everything? Bloody hell…

“Not for me. There were just a lot of creepy men, and some very dodgy neighbourhoods. I’m sure that’s not all there is to the job as a delivery driver, I’m sure I was just unlucky my first time, but I can’t really afford to quit unless I have a backup.”

Harry frowned at that. “If you don’t like it and you feel unsafe, you don’t have to continue doing it.”

She nodded her head. “No, I know, but it’s still the only job I could find and that I could get at the moment. I’ll apply to others later.”

Harry’s frown deepened, crossing his arms over his black, tee-shirt covered chest. No tattoos on display. She wondered why he only had tattoos on his chest and torso.

“Yeah, alright…” he said, voice a little darker than before. “But if you feel unsafe-“

“-Harry, I practiced capoeira when I was younger, remember?”

At that, as if he was slowly unveiling a memory he had not thought about in a little too long, Harry smiled. A small, fond smile that Y/N remembered from a previous life; a life with far less troubles, far less complications than this one.

“Of course I do.”

Not “yes”. Not just “I do”. “Of course”. He had said “of course”, as if remembering was a privilege. As if not remembering would be the strangest thing in the world. Y/N hated that this man did not forget a single thing. Never had, never would.

“Well,” she said, trying to act normal after that. “Well, I can hold my own.”

“Good to know,” Harry smiled, getting a teabag from his cupboard. As he turned his body and face away from her, she saw something glisten in the lights of the kitchen. Two earrings. Two gold earrings right next to one another. In his ear. Y/N would never admit to it out loud, the sight made her mouth salivate. “But I still think you should quit if you don’t like your work.”

Y/N opened the strawberry container and took one out, taking a bite. She needed to look away from Harry, away from his two earrings, and away from him because he was making some points. She knew where Harry was coming from, she really did, but she could not go on living in London, using money every single day, and not have an income. Until something better came along, this would be her job. “How’s the pub?”

“Alright,” Harry said, pouring hot water into his mug. “I’m having my last shift there December 15th.”

Y/N blinked. “You’re quitting?”

“Yeah, I’m starting a new job in January.”

She raised her eyebrows, meeting his gaze again. “Okay, good for you. What one?”

“Tattoo artist.”

He had to be fucking kidding at this point. Y/N had to do everything to keep her eye from twitching.

“Just got my tattoo license, so I’m ready to go come January.”

Y/N did not want to admit it. She could not admit it. She physically could not. But… everything about Harry… everything he did, everything he said… It all hit different. And it did not help that Y/N, who loved tattoos, getting them, having them on her body, and seeing them on someone else’s, was now made aware that Harry could legally give people tattoos. He was going to become a tattoo artist in January. Y/N wanted to eat chalk.

Harry just looked at her, studying her face. “You okay?”

She swallowed the strawberry bite she had just taken. “Fantastic.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Did you draw your own tattoos then?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was witness to Harry’s smug smile. He raised his cuppa, cocking his head a little to the side as he said, “You’ve seen my tattoos?”

Y/N wanted to die.

“You’ve been sneaking into my room to watch me sleep, that it?” Harry asked. “You’ve probably seen the tattoo I have by my crotch then, too-“

“-Oi!” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Piss off. I saw them when you were wearing that low-neck top at Footprint.”

Harry took a sip of his tea. “If you say so.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and Harry laughed.

“It’s jokes, Y/N.”

“Good. I’m genuinely scared you think I fancy you.”

Harry smiled. “You mean you don’t? Really?”

She took a hold of her strawberries and milk. “Goodnight, wanker.”

“I’m a dreamboat, what about this-“ Harry gestured at himself, flexing his arm muscles that weren’t really there. “-Doesn’t give you the fanny flutters?”

“You’re disgusting.”

Harry laughed.

“I was just interested to know about your job as a tattoo artist ‘cause I love tattoos,” Y/N explained.

Harry’s eyes travelled down to Y/N’s hand where the ‘M’ was tattooed, it lingered there for a moment too long. For some unknown reason, a tingle started up in Y/N’s thumb, making its way up her arm and to her breasts, then her stomach. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to her ribs where he must have seen her ‘saudade’ tattoo. Though it was not visible right then, it seemed as if Harry was seeing it all the same, sensing it somehow. At last, his eyes met hers, and Y/N felt something in her throat stop working. The tingle that had laid in her stomach just seconds earlier exploded, slithering all throughout her body and making her hyper aware of how knowledgeable Harry was of the tattoos on her body; of her. He must have paid more attention to her than she thought he had. Something about that made it hard to breathe. Bloody hell, she hated how fucking fit he was. She hated how she reacted to his glance, to his attention.

“I can tell,” he said, voice a tinge darker than before.

She was surely about to explode. Blinking a few times, she held her strawberries up, nodding her head to Harry in a silent goodbye, then made her way towards the door.

“Oh, Y/N,” Harry said, making her look over her shoulder at him. “Do you want some Ginger Nuts? I’m having some with my tea-“

“-No thanks. Goodnight.” Y/N walked straight out of the door and to her room, needing to stick her head out her window to cool down in the Regent’s Canal breeze before sitting down in her bed again. How could he be considerate, respectful, smart, pretty, and sexy at the same time? Some otherworldly powers had truly been at work these last few years to make Harry Styles into everything Y/N was attracted to.

She did not even want him as a boyfriend, she never had, there had never been any romantic feelings between them before and there never would be, but he was just so… so… frustrating. In every single sense of the word. He was just… very attractive. Very pleasing to look at. Everything that got to Y/N. And Y/N wanted to scream at Harry for making it so hard to ignore him, and at herself for falling for it.

Wednesday, 29 November 2017

Y/N was originally going to travel home to Nottingham that Friday so she could stay home that weekend. She had not been home since September, and though they only had two weeks of uni left before Christmas break, she wanted to go home this weekend. She missed her parents terribly and wanted to see them so badly, she could simply not wait until Christmas. So, because it was the last Wednesday of the month, Y/N travelled back up to Nottingham.

Every last Wednesday of every month, Davi would invite all of his Brazilian family who had settled in Nottingham after he had, as well as Lottie’s parents, over for feijoada. Brazil has many region-specific dishes, yet the one that best translates into a nationwide dish is the beloved feijoada. The name stems from the word feijão, which is Portuguese for bean, and also the key ingredient of feijoada, which is essentially a bean stew mixed with beef and pork. Though, depending on what region of Brazil you are in, you will find different ingredients added to the feijoada.

In Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais, feijoada is almost always cooked with black beans, while in Bahia, red or brown beans are preferred. In Bahia and Sergipe, they also usually add extra vegetables to the feijoada such as plantain, kale, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, and pumpkin. However, in the rest of Brazil, feijoada is simply beans and meat with no additional vegetables. It is served with white rice, shredded kale with bits of fried bacon, crispy pork crackling, and slices of oranges that are meant to aid the digestion of the heavy meal. Which is what Y/N had grown up eating.

Typically, it is served at noon on Wednesdays and Saturdays, as this hearty meal is a thick mixture that will have you full in no time. The only activity Y/N would recommend after it, is bed and a good book. Maybe even a little nap. Their big family often used to eat it during the weekend as it meant more time spent with the family, more time spent chatting and being social, but Davi who worked in a bakery, had often worked Saturday and Sunday afternoons, meaning that it would fit best for the family to keep the tradition of hosting the meal on Wednesdays at Davi and Lottie’s house. Which was why Y/N was on her way home that Wednesday at the end of November.

Closing Vidas Secas by Graciliano Ramos that she had just been reading, Y/N got up from her seat to get off the train. Graciliano Ramos was Y/N’s favourite writer of all time. Though she loved English Literature and especially loved studying it, she always found his works to be better than most. He was the only modernist writer she could stand. São Bernardo was her favourite of his novels. A story about a man who, having been born poor, gets rich using any ruthless means he can and ends up utterly alone. It had stuck with Y/N her entire life. The main character’s ability to love others, his selfishness, and arrogance, make up one of the most complex characters of world literature, in Y/N’s opinion.

In the last chapter of São Bernardo when Paulo Honório reflects on his life alone at night, Y/N found some of the best few pages she had ever read. The closing words ‘I ruined my life stupidly’ express the agony of a man whom Y/N learned to despise throughout the book, but who, thanks to the mastery of the author, leads us with him through his tragic life choices towards self-destruction. Y/N got goosebumps just thinking about it.

Stepping off the train with her small bag and book under her arm, Y/N walked straight for the train station exit. She recognised her mother’s brown hair in a bun at the top of her head, a pair of colourful flare trousers on along with a white buffer jacket. Lottie jumped up and down at the sight of Y/N and ran for her daughter, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace.

“My baby,” she said, kissing Y/N’s cheeks and forehead. “Oh, my Y/N.”

Y/N hugged her mother back, burying her face in her mother’s neck. She did not care that she could hear Vidas Secas fall into the tiled floor or that her bag would get dirty where it lay, all she cared about was her mother’s embrace and the smell of home around her. She was fluent in two languages, yet Y/N could not find a word that could quite capture how happy she was to be home just now.

“Okay, my dove,” Lotte said, taking Y/N’s bag off the floor. Y/N bent down and picked up her book, bringing it to her chest. “Let’s go home.”

The two of them walked out to the car park, and Lottie quickly started driving them in the direction of Y/N’s childhood home. The familiar ride and the familiar city outside the car windows made her relax, sinking far into the seat until she felt enveloped in safeness and contentment. It didn’t take them long to reach the semi-detached brick house, all their family members’ cars parked out front and visible in the windows overlooking the street. Y/N took her own bag this time, and her mother led the way up the stairs to the house so she could open the door for her.

There was no time for Y/N to go upstairs with her bag and book, because she was bombarded with hugs and kisses the second she stepped inside. Her grandfather, avô, her grandmother, avó, her papai’s two sisters and her aunties, tia Gilma and tia Lara, their husbands and her uncles, tio Jaren and uncle Finnley – who was British and had met Lara after she moved here -, and her seven cousins, or primos. They all came rushing to her, with her British grandmother and grandfather grinning and waiting for her to be done hugging and kissing everyone. Being with them and smelling feijoada everywhere, made Y/N almost tear up. Blimey, ever since moving away to University, she had become so incredibly sappy.

“Amorinzho!” came like a scream from the kitchen. Davi came out into the foyer with his apron still on and the biggest grin on his face. He threw his arms around Y/N. “Eu tenho saudade de você.”

She had missed him, too. So much. She felt safer, more at ease, almost more herself now that she was reunited with her parents close.

So, she told him that as she whispered, “Eu também senti sua falta,” back. Her papai hugged her a little tighter at that, grinning at her with tears in his eyes as he squeezed her shoulders.

“Y/N!” avó shouted from where she now sat in the living room, her grey hair in a long braid down her back and a big knitted cardigan wrapped tightly around her small frame. “Venha comer!”

“I’ll come eat in a second,” Y/N said. “I just need to put my bag in my room.”

“I’ll do that for you, my sausage,” Y/N’s grandfather said, stroking her cheek before he bent down and brought the bag with him up the stairs to her room. Since her mother had been an only child, her parents, Y/N’s grandparents, had always been very caring and constantly present as Y/N and Marcela had been their only grandchildren. Not that her avós had not been present, because they really had, her entire family had, but her grandparents’ life had no meaning if it were not for Lottie, Y/N and Marcela.

Y/N walked past all her family and to the kitchen where her papai stood making her a plate of feijoada. He handed it to her and she smiled at him before helping herself to some rice. Just then, Lottie walked into the kitchen as well, hugging Y/N from behind before she walked over to make her daughter something to drink. Silence stretched out in the kitchen as conversation started back up again in the living room, everyone talking about everything and nothing, in English and Portuguese. But, something that was unusual for her parents, they did not say a single thing. Though this might not be unusual for some, it was extremely unusual for someone who came from a generally very talkative family.

“Charlotte,” Davi said, looking over at Lottie. “We should…”

“Not yet.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder at her parents. “What?”

“We should tell her.”

“She just got home, Davi,” Lottie reasoned. “We can tell her later. Let her enjoy her feijoada.”

“No, what’s going on?” Y/N asked again, turning her body to face them now.

“No, amorinzha,” Davi said, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “Your mother is right; we can talk about it later. It’s not appropriate to do it now.”

“What’s going on? What’re you talking about?” Y/N looked at her papai, then at her mum, both of them sharing a look with one another that Y/N did not understand. Over the years, she had become a master at deciphering what her parents were discussing when they shared looks, though she never managed to quite understand the proper subject of discussion, she could detect the mood. She understood this was more of a serious matter.

“Tell me,” Y/N said, feeling her heart begin to beat a little harder, a little faster, the more time went by without any of them saying anything.

“Fine,” Lottie sighed. “Put your plate down first.”

Y/N did so reluctantly, not taking her eyes off of her parents. If it was serious enough for her mother to want her to put her food down so she would not drop her plate, then Y/N was on the fence if she even wanted to know what was going on or if she wanted to live in blissful ignorance of it.

“Your pai and I have decided to sell the cabin.”

Y/N’s heart stopped beating. Her body felt numb, the chatter in the living room deceased to exist as she just looked at her mother, and then at her papai. Her mum, and then pai. Suddenly, as if slapped with a brick, Y/N’s brain roared to life and her body came as hot as coal. She looked at her mother who had been the one to speak, her mouth falling open and shutting again as she continued to process what she had just been told.

“You’re… you’re going to sell the cabin?” Y/N asked them, just to be completely sure that what she heard was correct.

“Yes,” Davi answered.

“You’re selling the cabin?” She could not believe it.

“Y/N-“

“-You’re selling our Newport cabin? The one in Wales?” she asked again, her voice rising now. They did not have any other cabins, but Y/N just had to know she was not mistaken. They couldn’t… They couldn’t just…

“Y/N, we never go there anymore,” Lottie reasoned. “We want to spend the money we use on the cabin on something else, we don’t know what yet.”

“So, you’re just going to sell the cabin where your daughter was murdered?” Y/N asked, voice filled with so much rage she barely recognised herself when she spoke. “Where Marcela was most likely stabbed? You’re selling that cabin?”

“We’re never there because she was… she was killed…” Davi cleared his throat. “Spending time inside that cabin when we know what happened inside it, does not feel right.”

“No, selling it isn’t right,” Y/N said. “What if there’s more evidence inside? What if there’s somewhere they haven’t looked?”

“Baby, they have cleaned out the cabin and there’s nowhere they haven’t looked. There’s nothing more they can investigate,” Lottie explained. “We don’t want to own that cabin anymore.”

“Kit murdered Marcela in there,” Y/N said. “Her murderous ex-boyfriend is running around somewhere because no one investigated that cabin thoroughly enough.”

“Selling it doesn’t mean they are going to stop investigating Marcela’s case, amorzinho,” Davi pointed out.

“We don’t… We still don’t know if Kit did it,” Lottie mumbled. “It was most likely him, but there could have been someone else who killed Marcela, Y/N.”

“Marcela’s body hasn’t been found, there’s no trace of Kit’s blood or remains on that property. That murderer is on the loose, something inside that cabin can tell us he killed her, I am sure of it.”

“Y/N, Kit hasn’t been seen since the murder either. Maybe he was killed, too,” Lottie said.

“Mum, Kit was a rubbish person, why are you sticking up for him?” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face.

“We decided, Y/N,” Davi mumbled, rubbing his daughter’s back. “It’s happening.”

That was all Y/N needed to hear. She took her plate in one hand and the glass with water her mother had made her in another, and she walked straight past everyone in the living room and up to her room. She felt like a child stomping past everyone like that, but she just needed to be with her thoughts. There was absolutely no way they were selling that cabin. Not that cabin. Y/N was sure there was evidence in there somewhere, the police and the investigators had just not looked thoroughly enough. That was all. And if they had done a shite job, well… that just meant Y/N had to do it for them. She had to go to that cabin and look for herself once and for all. After all, who else would? It did not seem like anyone cared anymore.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 21th March, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ 🏛️ @sunflowerstache​ 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh​​ 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

[incoherentbabblings]

Hi!

I love your content, your love for TimSteph, and I was actually going to ask what you love so much about them. I, for extra credit for English, decided to write an analysis of Stephanie (and why I love her so much), but I just got into comics, and cannot really put my feelings for her in words ... which is odd, considering how much I love her and writing. Also, I was going to do a section on why TimSteph is narrative genius, and I needed help elaborating on that too.

Could you help me out, please? Thanks!

(I feel the need to mention that I have read quite a lot of comics with Stephanie in them, though not all. I'm not much of a comic book fan, but I'm really interested in the Batfamily!)

I'll be very happy to write out bullet points that you could talk about, and feel free to go through my ask and I'll babble/TimSteph meta tags for anything that you think may be worth discussing in your own words - there's like four or so years of stuff there to spark your brain.

HOWEVER!!!! Keep in mind though that much of what I have written is half based on textual evidence and half me just writing what I like/wish would crop up in canon.

For example, yes I like to draw comparisons between Tim being cold and Steph being warm, moon and sun and so on, but there's genuinely nothing in text to hint as this being an actual character trait or symbolism. If anything Tim's stated to be warm several times, more than Steph.

So, and I am sorry to be so blunt, but if I take your request in bad faith for a moment, don't use either directly or indirectly what I've written for your work. Especially without actually going and reading the arcs I talk about. A lot of the time it doesn't hold up under genuine textual scrutiny, and we want to be good academics here! There's Death of the Author and then there's me making crap up because I want to include it in a fanfic. Not the same thing! My blog is called IncoherentBabblings for a reason after all!

I will therefore say this: If you want to write about Steph as a character, I would use the below video as a point of reference. Using the below, you can then go into why she resonates with you the way she does, or why her relationship with Tim is so interesting to you.

If I were you: focus on her dynamic character development: cynical to idealistic. And use three points in her publication history to do this: her introduction in Detective Comics, War Games, and Batgirl. I am sorry to recommend War Games as something to read but it is important to her character. Use the Stephanie Brown Wiki to help!

That lends itself to a biography of her character, a look at her motivations and values, her role within the batfam, and so on. You can also use this to make comparisons with her peers, specifically Tim moving in the exact opposite direction development wise; Babs and Cass in their approaches to Batgirl; and the other Robins through her similar character progression as Dick, which in turn allows her to be a good mentor to Damian, and finally how her character arc runs perpendicular to Jason's. Does that make sense?

Anyway, let's get going! If I were to write an academic piece on Stephanie, these are the main points I would work through. In other words, this is what I would do. You probably will not need nor want to go into this level of depth, and you will want to make it much more personal about why she resonates with you, which may be different to why I love her. So don't worry about touching base with all of them. This is like... 10,000 word essay level stuff. And don't get overwhelmed. I've taken your request far too seriously is all.

Again, I can't write it for you! You gotta do the reading and writing I'm afraid.

...But I still wrote 1,500 words anyway. Gosh darnnit.

Steph’s Character Development

Always keep three points in her character history in mind – her aged 14/15 in her introductory arc in Detective Comics, her aged 16 in War Games, and her aged 18/19 in her Batgirl run.

How does she change? How does she grow as a character? What events caused these changes? Compare that angry 14-year-old trying to choke her father, to the 19-year-old crying happily on the roof. A lot happened between those two points! Outline the main plot beats.

Steph's Role as a Batfam Character:

Protagonist or Antagonist: Supporting Protagonist

Static or Dynamic: Dynamic (think of her character development - angry to alturistic; she softens in her life outlook and in the way she treats others as the years go by)

Minor or Major: Minor and we all mourn that fact :(

Foil or Symbolic: A foil to Tim Drake (and to a lesser extent the other Robins, specifically Jason Todd)

Importance of the character/Position in Society: Fourth Robin, third Batgirl, own superhero. Tim's girlfriend, Cassandra's best friend, one of many of Bruce's 'children'. Initially introduced just as a one-off character for a small arc in Detective Comics, brought back with the intention of being a supporting character to Tim Drake, and eventual love interest. Eventually gained enough popularity on her own terms to support her own solo comic, but has since returned to a supporting role. The character she supports, at the end of the day, is Bruce Wayne.

Motivation

What influences their decisions?: Stephanie's dynamic characterisation comes in here. Compare her motivations during her introductory arc, versus why she does what she does in War Games, versus why she dresses up at Batgirl - Stopping her father, getting Batman's approval, need for redemption.

What do they value?: Values emotional openness, vulnerability, second/third/fourth chances.

Goals/Hopes/Dreams: No long term goals/hopes/dreams in the domestic sense... Continue to be vigilante. Be respected by her peers. Continue to improve self worth through deeds. Graduate college?

What are their views: Views the justice system and police as corrupt, but still trusts in the inherent goodness of people. Focus is usually on the individual, rather than societal or structural.

Actions

Behaviour, Attitudes, Impact on Story and other Characters, Internal Struggle (Wants versus Needs): This is why I think you are best to look at three points in her story - Intro Arc, War Games, Batgirl. Focus on her Wants versus Needs - Steph's take a very long time to align, but they finally do in Batgirl.

Character development is usually driven by the conflict between what a character wants. The plot forces them normally to confront the fact that what they want is not gonna work out, and what they needed instead takes priority.

Everything usually goes tits up for Steph when she is in the driver's seat of the narrative because what she wants from a situation is rarely what she actually needs to happen. See every time she seeks Bruce's approval. She wants it. She absolutely does not need it. And only as Batgirl do we get that acknowledgement, which coincides with her being at the healthiest point in her life emotionally. Look at what she wants as Spoiler during her introductory arc, as Robin/Spoiler during War Games, and then as Batgirl. Why is she so unhappy in the former two? Why have her wants finally aligned with her needs with her time as Batgirl?

Character Traits

Personality: Cynical but perky. Sardonic but sincere. Think about how she changes over the time. This can be attributed to her different writers, but - for example - is there a universe reason for why Batgirl Stephanie is so much more socially awkward than Spoiler Stephanie?

Strengths & Weaknesses: Link these two together because Steph is a very good example where her strengths as a character can simultaneously be a weakness. Her determination can lead to her making ill conceived decisions. Her empathy can lead to her putting her trust in the wrong people. Her forgiving nature can lead to her being taken advantage of. Her temper, whilst landing her in hot water, can also just as often get her out of it.

Relationships

How do they interact with others: Focus on which characters pop up in all three arcs – Steph and her parents; Steph and Bruce; Steph and Tim. I am chucking Cass out the window here, sorry Cass, but if you’re focusing on these three arcs, Cass doesn’t really fit in.

How others view them: Conditional love/affection from her father and Bruce. Unconditional love/affection from Tim and her mother (though both are not without serious pitfalls).

How they view others: Stephanie has explicitly never loved her father. She has also never explicitly hated him either. What does that say about her? Look at her changing closeness with her mother. What changed between them, and again, what does that say about Stephanie? Crystal got sober, supported Stephanie through her pregnancy, Arthur was removed from their lives, Stephanie makes a conscious effort to be closer to her after returning ‘from the dead’, though continues to lie consistently to her. Stephanie admires Bruce, whilst also right from the get go insisting she does not answer to him. She never quite lets go of wanting that approval.

How does society view them: Her outsider role within the Batfam. She never quite belongs, and at points her closest relationships are actively discouraged from seeing her. Which Tim specifically never entertains. This outsider nature bites literally everyone in the butt during War Games. Her outsider status is still in place by the time Batgirl concludes, due to its largely self-contained nature as a book, but this is less being an outsider more having earned to right to operate independently. Trust has been given and earned.

Dialogue

What does she say and how: A teenage girl in New Jersey from a working class background has a very distinct voice. She does not mince words, nor does she hide what she is feeling. If she is happy, she will say so. If she is annoyed, she will say so. What she won’t do is ask for help when she needs it, due to her background formulating a need for her ‘to do things on her own’.

Think of famous/important Steph quotes from the three arcs I keep talking about – the excuse me if I don’t jump when you bark, the I really was part of the legend, the only variable you can control is yourself. These show how Steph views others and herself.

When I was writing I Would Have Loved You, I literally made a spreadsheet where I have picked out what I think are pertinent quotes from every New 52 issue featuring Tim or Steph along with a synopsis that explained what they were up to/what the main theme of the issue was. Not saying you should do the same because I’m just that goddamn anal when it comes to this sort of stuff, but the point is – look for quotes by/about Steph which highlight the above things we’ve talked about. You have thirty years to go through!

Author Intention

What purpose does this character serve?: A character that young female readers could get attached to – the every girl/girl next door archetype or a character that young boys could have a crush on – the kind of girl who’s into the same sort of stuff as you, I think Chuck Dixon once said of her, from her initial appearance. Fodder for Bruce and Tim’s man pain in War Games. Batgirl it’s a combination of filling the void for a female lead solo character in the batbooks, but also tonally taking on a much lighter and self-contained book that new readers could jump into very easily, directly compared to the more lore heavy Batman, Detective Comics, and Red Robin books.

What is the author trying to communicate: Steph’s character shows that determination can only get a person so far, a support system and doing things for the right reasons (again remember that want versus need argument) is the only way a person will genuinely succeed.

What is her main theme?: Balancing cynicism and idealism – doing acts for the right reasons, and discovering what these reasons actually are.

...

Is this even usable for anyone but myself? Possibly not!

Still... Go write! And good luck!

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 5

WARNINGS: Aunt Muriel 🤭, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk

Chapter 5 - Theodora's Flying

Bill was used to the racket that woke him up every morning by now. He was hoping that the rest of his siblings had the same idea as he did – get more sleep the night before the tournament – but when he gazed at his alarm clock and saw that it was only six-thirty in the morning, he quickly realized that he was the only one.

He sighed, got up, and stretched. He heard the twins running down the stairs and he could swear he heard Charlie tickle Ginny in the hallway. At least mum wasn’t shouting this morning. That was a record – two days in a row.

He slowly opened the door of his room and popped his head out cautiously, just in case something would explode in the hallway.

“Never a dull morning, is it?”

Bill turned around toward the voice. He saw Theodora standing in the doorway of Ginny’s room, watching Charlie chase after their youngest sibling as she was squeaking not to tickle her any more.

“Yeah.” Was all he could muster.

Theodora wasn’t the first person he expected to see this morning as she was usually with the twins. He tried smiling and hoped that his untied hair was able to hide his red cheeks.

He hated that he couldn’t say one word to her without blushing or getting butterflies. But he couldn’t deny that he sort of liked it either.

—

The past few weeks have been one of the best he had in a long time. He came to terms that perhaps him having a crush on her wasn’t so bad. He hardly ever thought about the age difference between them anymore and he enjoyed spending time with her – every minute of it.

He and Theodora sneaked out a few times to watch the stars as they did that night when Charlie and Ron forced him to go after her.

He had so much fun with her and he found out so many things about her. He now understood why she was friends with the twins – they might get on his nerves sometimes but they were such good and protective friends to her.

She told him how they have been there for her every time her mum sent her a mean letter, every time she felt alone and missed her brother, every time a boy broke her heart.

He loved listening to her talk about Quidditch even though it never interested him more than a few games he played with his siblings at the Burrow. He loved to hear how she started to correspond with Charlie – asking for a piece of simple advice about her Care of Magical Creatures essay. He couldn’t stop listening to her talk so greatly and fondly about his younger siblings.

He told her about his internship in Egypt and how hard it was to become a Curse Breaker. How they don’t tell you in school what you have to go through to get the job. He told her how much he loves it and that he feels like he will never get sick of what he does.

She was the first person he felt like he could tell anything to without being judged and she seemed so interested in everything he had to say. He felt accepted talking to her and even though he didn’t like admitting it, he felt like that for the first time.

Bill still wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact of how close they got all of a sudden and he was suspicious of the twins and Charlie as they stopped teasing him and pushing him toward her. They were perfect angels and he knew them well enough to know they had to either be up to something or something between him and Theodora changed.

He caught himself waking up excited every morning to spend more time with her. He was astonished how they never ran out of things to talk about and he constantly thought of things that Theodora might find funny because he loved hearing her laugh.

Theodora surprised him when she told him what exactly she will do in the shop when she manages to open it with the twins. Bill thought that she was going to work alongside his brothers and sell their products. He didn’t expect at all that she has basically robbed the library near her home of all the books that are business-related as she decided to stay behind the scenes and run the whole thing.

She admitted that she isn’t big on exposing herself and as much as she loves all their products she doesn’t have a talent when it comes to expressing how amazing they are. The twins and she sat down and talked about it and quickly realized that they are a perfect team – she doesn’t like selling while they do and they think finances are boring but they intrigue her.

The fact that she was willing to read through dozens of books and learn about how to properly run a business made Bill fancy her even more. At this point, he stopped questioning how could she only be 17 and just accepted the fact that she was the most amazing girl he ever had a chance to meet.

—

Charlie finally took mercy on Ginny and was now chasing after Theodora. Even though Bill knew it was all harmless fun he was jealous of Charlie and wished he could be so relaxed and fun around her.

Because he didn’t want to think about how boring and pathetic he is on the day of the tournament, he decided to go down and see what all the commotion is about.

The second he stepped to the lower floor he wanted to turn around and sprint back up. He heard the twins talk to aunt Muriel. He was glad that it wasn’t him. It’s not that he didn’t like her, he did, but she scared him just as much.

He never knew what to say in front of her without insulting her or saying something she is going to comment on. She liked to correct their mistakes ever since Bill can remember and he suddenly understood why Charlie was so keen on staying upstairs – Charlie disliked her even more because she isn’t an animal lover at all and she always commented on the fact that Charlie never brought a single girl home never even willing to listen what he has to say on the topic.

Bill tip-toed to the nearby wooden pillar that separated the hallway from the living room and leaned on it to hear what the twins had to endure. Before he could focus on their conversation he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and the second Theodora saw what he was doing, she started giggling.

She carefully stepped next to him and mimicked his posture.

“What are we doing?” She asked playfully.

“Hiding from my aunt,” Bill admitted, red in the face.

He was bothered by how old Theodora was while he acted like a child, hiding, and eavesdropping? He is such a loser.

“Is she so bad?” Theodora couldn’t stop shaking from giggles which she desperately tried to muffle with her hand over her mouth.

She tilted her head to sneak a peek into the living room.

“There she is! Come here, Theo. Let us introduce you to our favorite aunt.” George said nervously.

Before Bill could do anything about it and save Theodora from the interaction, she was already dragged by Fred to stand next to them.

“And who might you be?” Aunt Muriel narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to Theodora.

“This is our best friend, auntie.” George put a hand on Theodora’s back and pushed her forward almost making her slam her forehead against their aunt’s.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Theodora.” She extended her hand and waited for aunt Muriel’s response.

Muriel pursed her lips, her eyes still narrowed, scanning the girl. Theodora couldn’t remember the last time she felt so uncomfortable. It seemed the aunt was either judging her or contemplating if she should invite her to her secret club.

“Muriel.” She said slowly, her eyes moving up and down Theodora’s figure again. “A pleasure.”

“Theo, could you help me in the kitchen, dear?”

Theodora has never been so relieved to help Mrs. Weasley and she hoped that she won’t have to encounter aunt Muriel again during her stay here at the Burrow. She made a mental note to ask Fred and George in which room their aunt is staying in later so she can avoid the entire floor.

She excused herself, forcing a grin. Muriel’s eyes were still on her, her lips pursed again. Theodora stepped towards the kitchen as quickly as the gesture allowed her not to look as if she was running away.

“I like her.” Bill heard his aunt say.

He exhaled as much air as his lungs allowed him. He felt relieved that Theodora could slip away and that his aunt approved of her, not that it mattered in any way.

“So, which one of you is dating her?” Muriel asked Fred and George.

“Neither.” They replied in unison.

“Why? Can’t bother to put in the effort?” The aunt snorted.

“No,” Fred answered annoyed.

“She would be a fine lady to join the family.” Muriel persisted.

“Oh, don’t you worry auntie, Bill’s working on that.”

Bill frowned and clenched his jaw at George’s words. If he wasn’t so desperate to hide from his aunt he would go to the living room and strangle George for saying that.

“William?” Muriel gasped. “Isn’t the girl your age?”

“She is,” Fred answered, his voice indicating that he doesn’t see a problem.

“Are you out of your mind? She is too young for him. Shame on you for even thinking that and you better tell me you were joking and Bill isn’t trying to get the attention of the poor girl!”

Bill’s shoulders sunk at those words and he felt something break inside of him. He knew he was right. He knew Theodora was too young for him and that his siblings were wrong. He couldn’t believe it but aunt Muriel was making sense for a change.

He wanted to slam his head against the pillar – why did he have to listen to his siblings? Of course, they had no idea what they were talking about. He was having too much fun with Theodora, of course, it was too good to be true.

He sighed, feeling disappointed in himself. What was he thinking? What did he think would happen? He was a fool to think that there could ever be something between him and Theodora. He knew that now and he won’t let Charlie or the twins convince him to do anything as stupid again.

He and Theodora got so close in such a short amount of time and what did that bring him? Joy at first and happiness and the feeling of belonging and an opportunity to be himself. But that was just an illusion.

He was mad at himself for thinking that way. For allowing himself to get so low. Of course, he should’ve talked to an adult about it – ask mum perhaps – she would’ve set him straight in a minute.

He let out another sigh. He was right all along and it was time to stop pretending. There can never be anything between him and that wonderful girl. He can try and be friends with her like Charlie was, but he knew himself too well to know that he can't just stop feeling what he feels.

Another sigh – this time accompanied with a head shake. He just has to focus on the tournament and he can go home soon after that. It’s better that way.

He started toward the stairs, making a decision to wait in his room until all of his family members arrive. He wasn’t in a mood to talk to anyone or see anyone for that matter. He just wanted to be miserable.

Walking up the stairs, he silently thanked aunt Muriel for saying what she did. She was right and someone had to tell him the truth, no matter how much it hurt. He just wished she would say that a few weeks ago before he really started falling for Theodora and perhaps could avoid getting his heartbroken.

Now. Now it was too late for that. It’s been done.

—

“Come on, Bill! We have to get ready and we have to talk to Charlie!” Bill sat up on his bed when Fred started banging on his door.

“I’m coming!”

What was all the rush for?

He looked at his alarm clock and realized it was half an hour before the first game starts. He has been staring at the ceiling – his mind completely blank – for 4 hours. At least he didn’t have to interact with anyone.

He got dressed and made his way downstairs.

“Hi, Lee. What are you doing here?” Bill greeted the boy who was pacing up and down the corridor, pieces of parchment in his hands.

“Oh, hi, Bill! The twins invited me to be the tournament commentator.” He said nervously and returned to his notes.

“That’s great.” Bill grinned but didn’t get a reply.

He wasn’t at school anymore when Lee became the match commentator but the twins spoke about him often and always said he was really good so he couldn’t wait to hear him commentate on the game.

“There you are!” Before he knew what was going on, he was dragged outside by George.

George made him stop next to Theodora who was standing next to Fred, Ginny, and Ron – them all making a circle around Charlie.

“What is this? An intervention?” Charlie chuckled nervously. “Am I talking about dragons too much again?”

“Charles Weasley...” Fred said in a deep dramatic voice.

“We are gathered here today...” George followed his lead.

“To ask you something really really important.” Theodora sang as if in a musical.

Charlie was turning around to face each one of them, blinking confusingly, not having any idea what was going on.

“Will you be our Quidditch Captain?” Ginny asked in her sweet voice, making puppy eyes.

“Aww, that is so adorable!” For a second Bill thought Charlie was going to cry.

It was a nice thing his siblings did – asking him like this. Charlie might love his job in Romania but Bill knew he missed playing Quidditch and was proud to announce to anyone that asked him that he was captain while at school.

“Of course! I would love to!” Charlie jumped in the air and gathered them all into a bear hug.

“Now listen, you lot,” Charlie’s voice changed from high pitched excited one to serious the second they broke apart, “we are going up against the strongest teams in our family! We have to be focused, we have to stick together, and most importantly,” he smirked, “you have to listen to me.” He pointed his thumb at his chest.

“Five teams are competing – Aunt Muriel’s Army, The Prewetts, American Weasleys, the Twice Removed Cousins, and The Best Weasleys.” Charlie’s eyebrows were almost touching, that’s how focused he was.

“In case you’re wondering, we’re The Best Weasleys. Now,” he clapped his hands, “The Prewetts will play against the American Weasleys first. Then Aunt Muriel’s Army will play with the Twice Removed Cousins. Then the winning teams will play with each other and the winners get to compete against us.”

“If anyone is wondering why we seem to have no competition,” Charlie looked at Theodora who had the biggest grin on her face finding his speech as amusing as everyone else, “it’s because we won last year and winners just have to defend their title. We are the best Weasleys after all.” Charlie lifted his chin proudly.

“Anyone have any questions?” He asked and locked eyes with each one on his team.

Nobody dared to move a muscle. Bill never got a chance to see Charlie become the Quidditch Captain but he couldn’t deny that he was impressed. Charlie always messed around and seeing him so serious was a nice change of scenery.

Bill couldn’t stop sneaking a look at Theodora even if he wanted to. Her eyes were full of sparks looking at Charlie speak. She joined the team in Charlie’s last year and Bill knew that she not only admired him but missed him as a captain as well.

“Good! Everybody knows their position?”

They all nodded immediately.

“Great! Then go grab your gear, we have a tournament to win people!” Charlie started clapping his hands, gesturing to everybody that they should move.

Bill sat next to Ginny on the ground, waiting for the match between Aunt Muriel’s Army and Twice Removed Cousins to end. The Prewetts made complete fools out of American Weasleys, which wasn’t all that surprising since in the USA they barely play Quidditch and it showed on the pitch.

To distract himself from the fact that Theodora was sitting on his other side, Bill tried to focus on Lee who was commentating on the game. He was brilliant. Fred and George were right – he was good! He hoped that he will act upon his talent and that he’ll be able to hear him commentate on one of the future Quidditch World Cups.

“The Snitch has been caught! Aunt Muriel’s Army wins!”

Aunt Muriel stood up from her chair, where the family members that weren’t playing were sitting and cheering and started clapping loudly.

“Blimey, they are good this year.” Bill heard Fred whisper to Charlie behind him.

“Nah, they don’t stand a chance against The Prewetts.” Charlie calmed him down.

“That isn’t exactly encouraging for us if we have to go against them later,” George said.

“Come on, where’s your confidence?” Charlie nudged them with his shoulders. “You have me as captain and the Seeker and Theodora is an amazing Chaser and I have no doubt that you won’t destroy them with Bludgers and you said it yourself that Ron is getting better.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” George grinned mischievously.

“We are going to destroy them.” Fred agreed.

—

“That was a rough defeat for Aunt Muriel’s Army. 230 – 20 for The Prewetts and the game is over!”

Aunt Muriel wasn’t cheering so loudly anymore – she hid behind her hat instead.

Charlie was right. Despite Aunt Muriel’s Army doing their best, they didn’t stand a chance against The Prewetts. The twins hoped that Charlie was right about beating them too. They simply can’t lose, not at their home!

“Bill, you’re in-game spirit yet?” Charlie put his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, making him turn around.

“Of course, let’s go beat their arses!” Bill thrust his hand high in the air and felt Theodora giggle next to him at his words.

“See, you’re not as stuck up as you appear to be.” George winked at him.

“That’s the Bill we know and love!” Fred put his hands on Bill’s shoulder and shook him, making Bill playfully roll his eyes.

“Let’s go, team! It’s time to win this!” Charlie roared and ushered them all to the pitch.

They barely mounted their brooms when they could already hear Arthur Weasley cheering loudly in his chair. Molly Weasley stood up and started clapping with the biggest smile on her face.

This was the one event that brought the whole family together like this and it didn’t matter if they made fools out of themselves and they didn’t care how the rest of the family was looking at them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were proud of their children and when better to show it than while playing Quidditch at the Burrow.

“Witches and Wizards, welcome to this year’s Weasley Tournament Finale!” Lee shouted into his microphone.

“We have The Prewetts, who won two games today and they did a great job, they sure deserve to be in the finale!” Lee admitted. “They are going against The Best Weasleys who have been holding the winner title of this tournament for 3 years now!”

“Will they be able to defend their position and stay on top or will the Prewetts become the new champions?”

A man with the curliest and reddest hair Lee has ever seen opened the chest in the middle of the field and let out the balls.

“The Snitch and the Bludger are out! Quaffle goes to The Best Weasleys and Ginny Weasley is already making her way with it toward the hoops!”

Lee watched Ginny sneak between two Beaters of the opposite team. She was still young but she showed exceptional talent. Because she was the youngest player, they didn’t take her seriously and she flew right past them straight in front of the other team’s Keeper.

“And Ginny scores the first goal! What a performance! The Prewetts sure didn’t see that coming!”

“Charlie Weasley – the former Gryffindor Quidditch captain and Seeker – is already after the Snitch! But what’s this now,” Lee gasped, “the Prewett’s Seeker is trying to knock Charlie off his broom. The Prewetts decided to take revenge for the first goal!”

“Fred and George Weasley are trying their best to stir the Bludger into the Seeker’s direction but they have to be careful not to hit their brother!”

Lee was shaking in his seat. The games at Hogwarts were intense sometimes and he always had so much fun commenting on them but this was something else. Family members competing against each other and seeing the Weasleys play together was like a dream come true. So many generations, so many amazing Quidditch players.

“Bill Weasley has the Quaffle now, but two Chasers from the opposite team are right on his tail!”

“Bill, watch out!” Bill turned to see George about to smack the Bludger in his direction.

He leaned forward to gain speed and got away just in time.

“What a performance from George Weasley! He knocked that Chaser right off his broom. This allows Bill to score, will he be able to do it?”

Lee stood up now, the excitement running through his body simply didn’t allow him to sit still any longer.

“Oh, no! George might have knocked one Chaser to the ground but the other two look like they won’t show any mercy to Bill!”

“Bill, over here!”

Bill barely dodged the Chaser that stopped right in front of him, wanting to trip him and looked to his left. Theodora was waving her hand and pointing to the hoops. Nobody was after her – all the attention on him. He gripped the Quaffle and lifted his hand.

“Bill passed the Quaffle to Theodora Cork, who is a remarkable Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team at Hogwarts, and she scores!”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now both standing up and jumping in the air, cheering louder than before. The American Weasleys and the Twice Removed Cousins were also cheering for The Best Weasleys.

“The Bludger is now following The Prewett’s Seeker, giving Charlie Weasley a chance to go after the golden ball!”

Lee couldn’t help but wish that all Weasley siblings could play at school. He can’t remember when was the last time he had so much fun but was on the edge of his seat at the same time.

“Bill Weasley is the one who scored this time! 60 – 30 for The Best Weasleys!”

Charlie was proud of Bill for scoring. He knew the most how nervous he was to play since he played Quidditch the least and can’t remember when the last time he used a broom was. But he had no time to show it. They might be leading by 30 points but it was time to end this and win for the fourth year in a row.

“Ginny scored again! I dare to say that she will join the team at Hogwarts soon! She is too talented not to do so!”

Ginny’s cheeks turned pink at Lee’s words. She was proud of herself and she finally got the opportunity to show herself on the broom.

“Charlie caught the Snitch! Charlie caught the Snitch! The Best Weasleys aren’t called the best without a reason! They are the champions of this year’s tournament!” Lee tried shouting in his microphone while jumping up and down.

Molly and Arthur were jumping in the air, embraced, waiting for their children to get off their brooms so they could go and congratulate them.

“Take that, Prewetts!” Molly turned to the family who was sitting behind her and stuck out her tongue.

“Mollywobbles, you are a Prewett,” Arthur whispered in her ear, gently.

“Not when my children just won a spectacular match!” Mrs. Weasley cupped her husband's face, kissed him hard on the mouth, and ran toward the kids.

Mr. Weasley stood still for a second, astonished how into the game his wife got and then ran after her.

“We won! We won!” Ginny, Ron, and Theodora were jumping in the air.

“This was amazing!” Fred and George high-fived.

“Why do we only have this tournament once per year?” Charlie stepped to the group, the biggest proud grin on his face.

“I’m proud of you, brother.” He hugged Ron and got a smile in exchange.

“Gin-Gin! Since when are you a professional Quidditch player!” Charlie rushed to his baby sister, hugged her around the waist, and lifted her high in the air, making her giggle.

“Theo, you were brilliant!” Fred and George squeezed Theodora into a hug sandwich.

“Ginny was better! We have to get her on our team!” Her eyes were on Ginny who was now put down by Charlie because Molly started to give him warning looks for lifting her so high.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so proud of all of you!” Molly hugged her eldest son so tightly that he couldn’t breathe for a second.

“You showed those Prewetts what’s business!” Arthur grinned at the lot.

“We are the best Quidditch family.” Mrs. Weasley squeaked in excitement.

“You weren’t as bad as you deemed yourself to be.”

Bill turned around to see Theodora smirk at him. He couldn’t help but return the smile. The last time they were stargazing together they talked about the tournament and Bill expressed his concerns when it came to his gameplay. He didn’t think he did much, he only scored once but for him, the achievement was already that he didn’t fall off his broom.

“You were better!” He stepped closer to her and pulled her in a hug.

Theodora stiffened, not expecting Bill to hug her. He never did that before. They never hugged before. It felt nice and she didn’t care at that moment what anybody around them would think so she relaxed, closed her eyes, and hugged him back.

“Oh, stop it.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

She didn’t want to let go of him because her cheeks were bright red and it would be a miracle if Bill wouldn’t notice.

“I’m serious. You’re really talented.” Bill gently pulled away, his hands on her shoulders.

He was praying that she couldn’t hear his racing heartbeat. He had no idea what got over him – pulling her in a hug. It just seemed fitting and it felt so right. How could it feel so right?

He was watching her fly on that pitch as if there was nobody else there. And to say that he had fun playing Quidditch was an understatement. It was pure adrenaline when he passed the ball to Theodora and he can’t recall ever having so much fun at the tournament before. Perhaps it was because Theodora was a part of their team.

He was in awe of how good she was. Charlie kept saying it and the twins told him in many letters but he didn’t know just how much talent the girl in front of him had until he saw it for himself today.

She was brilliant. In every aspect. In everything she did. He embraced her again. He couldn’t keep looking into her eyes and he didn’t know how to make her turn around or step away from her.

At that moment he didn’t care who was around them and who could see them. He wanted to celebrate the fact that they won and he wanted to do it with her.

He gently pushed her away when he heard whistling. He saw Fred and George standing in front of them, clapping and raising their eyebrows up and down. Theodora just giggled, trying hard not to look at Bill, who was flushed.

He took a step backward. Suddenly, everything that he heard aunt Muriel say in the morning came back to him and the disappointing feeling that he once again gave in to his feelings overwhelmed him.

He has to stop doing this. He has to stop thinking about her in this way. Wanting to spend time with her – to talk to her – to be with her. It was wrong and he can’t be so weak and keep crossing the line. It’s not fair to her and he’s definitely not making it easy for himself.

Remembering that the tournament is over and that he can soon go home made him feel better. He can go back to Egypt and forget this summer ever happened. It’s for the best. It’s not like he can do anything about it anyway.

—

“Do you have the beer?” Bill whispered.

“Yes.” Charlie lifted a six-pack with his right arm.

“Do you have the non-alcoholic beer?”

“Yes.” Charlie lifted the six-pack he was holding with his other arm.

“Okay, I’ll go find the twins and you go to Ginny’s room.” Bill pointed at the door ahead of them, where Ginny and Theodora were sleeping.

“You go wake up your girlfriend.” Charlie put the beer down in front of Fred and George’s room, ready to go inside.

“She’s not my...” Bill sighed and rolled his eyes. “...never mind.”

He knew that no matter what he says, he won’t win an argument against Charlie. He turned around instead and tip-toed to Ginny’s room. He carefully opened the door, ready to find them both sound asleep, but Theodora was reading a book, the room lit by her wand.

“Hi.” Bill smiled awkwardly at her.

“Hey.” Theodora waved.

She lowered her wand and closed her book without marking it. As if she could concentrate on reading. She was so into her thoughts that suddenly seeing Bill made her heart go crazy.

She was trying, she really was. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Bill hugged her twice after the match. She kept thinking how good his arms around her felt and how proud he looked of her.

Her thoughts also kept getting disturbed by what she overheard aunt Muriel say to Fred and George this morning. Of course, she agreed with her. The age difference between them was too big but she didn’t have to be reminded of that. Not when she was having so much fun with him for the past few weeks.

She got to know Bill so much better and it seemed he was getting more relaxed around her and he trusted her more. It felt nice. She might be hiding and denying her feelings but at least she can be his friend.

That didn’t mean that what aunt Muriel said this morning didn’t hurt her. It did. Every time they were together and their hands brushed, or their shoulders touched, she was already reminded of the fact that Bill will never see her more than a friend, and each time she couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different if she was older. If only she was the older one in her family and not Eric.

“Is everything okay?” Theodora asked after swallowing hard.

She was doing it again – staring at him like an idiot.

“Yes...uhm...we...I mean Charlie and I...” Bill scratched his head.

Why was this so hard? He was getting good at talking to her but he couldn’t take the way she was looking at him – her eyes full of wonder and excitement for what he has to say.

He took a deep breath. He has to get it together, he can’t be so weak around a girl – around her.

“We want to celebrate today’s victory and I...I mean we were wondering if you would like to join us?”

Could he sound more hopeful that she’ll come? If Theodora wasn’t looking him straight in the eyes he would’ve rolled them, that’s how annoyed he was with himself.

“Sure. Let me just put something else on than my pajamas.” She chuckled and stood up.

“Of course, I’ll wait for you outside.” Bill chuckled too and closed the door behind him.

“That was smooth.”

Bill glared at Charlie who was giggling, walking past him going toward the stairs.

“Give me a break, Charles,” Bill whined.

He wanted to smack him over the head. It was already bad that he couldn’t talk normally to her but Charlie had to hear how awkward he was. He was counting the days to return to Egypt now.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Theodora closed the door behind her, careful not to wake Ginny.

“Where are you taking me?” She turned to Bill with the biggest smile on her face.

She looked as excited as if they were going on a vacation.

“We are going to the roof.” Bill cleared his throat and gestured for Theodora to follow him.

“Theo!” The twins exclaimed when they saw that Bill brought her too.

“Did you two finish your make-out session?” Fred winked at her and George started laughing so much that he almost fell off the roof.

Theodora hit both of them in the shoulder, ignoring their teasing, and rolled her eyes.

“Beer for me and Bill.” Charlie handed one to Bill. “And nonalcoholic for you three.” He tore open the box and gave each a bottle.

“Why do we get a nonalcoholic beer? We’re 17!” Fred frowned.

“Yeah, we’re of age.” George followed.

“Because mum would have our heads if she found out we gave you alcohol,” Bill explained.

“So unfair.” George sighed and opened his bottle.

The second he tasted the bubbly beverage a smirk appeared on his face and he exchanged a look with his twin. Fred put a finger over his mouth to indicate that he should stay quiet.

Theodora couldn’t believe how much fun they were having. She has never been on a roof before, let alone have a little party on it. She was laughing so hard as Charlie tried imitating one of their relatives when they realized they lost.

He did a perfect impression. The Prewetts were really mad that they lost. She, of course, thought that they didn’t stand a chance. They were playing well, she had to give them that but the Weasley’s were so good at Quidditch and had so many talented kids on the broom that she kind of felt that they overpowered the other team but she didn’t care. They won and the whole family was so happy about it and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

—

Theodora was sitting next to Bill and Fred, looking down at her second – now empty –bottle. She looked at the sky and felt as if the stars were dancing in front of her. She closed one eye and then the other one. She then closed them both at the same time and squinted hard, thinking she was just sleepy.

She opened them up again and now she wasn’t just seeing dancing stars but was dizzy too. She looked down at her bottle again and tried reading the label but Fred almost rolling down the roof distracted her.

“Gogie, did you see...that.” Fred hiccuped and then laughed as if he has never laughed before.

He was clutching his stomach, laughing at Bill’s face who grabbed his shirt just in time for him not to fall off.

“Do it again. Feddie...again.” George put his head between his legs, trying hard not to laugh.

Bill narrowed his eyes, looking at his brother’s sudden change in behavior. He then looked at Charlie who was observing them with his eyebrows raised and alert, ready to catch them again in case they try something funny.

“Can I just see something?”

Bill turned to Theodora who was blinking, looking at the fingers on her hand.

“Mhm.” She mumbled and gave Bill her bottle.

“Charlie.” Bill hissed, making Charlie look at him. “This is not non-alcoholic beer.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie stood up at once and took the bottle from Bill.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Charlie whispered to himself.

“You said you had non-alcoholic beer for them!” Bill glared at his brother.

“I...I was sure it was. Bill, I swear.” The panic on his face grew larger.

Bill sighed. Charlie obviously made a mistake. He knew he was grown-up enough not to get his younger siblings drunk on purpose and on the roof too.

“What are we going to do?” Charlie started biting his lip nervously. “Mum will kill us if she finds out.”

“She won’t.” Bill pursed his lips, trying to think of something quickly.

“We’ll wait on the roof until they sober up a bit and then we’ll take them to bed.” He said after a minute of thinking.

“Ha-ha, we knew.” George was laying down now, still laughing.

“Knew what?” Bill turned to him.

“We took a sip, we knew it was beer.” Fred elaborated.

“You knew?” Bill frowned.

How could they be so irresponsible? He knew that this probably wasn’t the first time they were drunk. He attended Hogwarts, he remembered the parties that happened in the common rooms. But this was different – he and Charlie got them drunk. They were supposed to be responsible for them.

“Of course, they knew.” Charlie rolled his eyes.

For the first time since the summer started, Charlie seemed annoyed by something the twins did. It was one thing to make mum mad and to create dangerous products in their room. Being drunk wasn’t funny, especially them being on a roof and Bill knew that Charlie was just as worried about them as he was.

“I go sleepsleep now, Gogie.” Fred laid down on one of the blankets they set up and covered himself with another one.

“Wait for me, wait for me!” Fred didn’t walk to his twin brother – he jumped to the spot.

For a second Bill was sure he was going to have a heart attack.

Charlie carefully watched his every jump, his whole head moving up and down with Fred’s action. He was so pale that Bill was sure he was going to throw up.

“How are you feeling?” Bill turned to Theodora, taking off his jacket and putting it around her.

“I’m fine. A bit dizzy.” She smiled gently.

She was adorable. Bill wanted to pull her toward himself, so she could lean on his shoulder but thought better of it. She is sitting next to him, he can keep an eye on her without the gesture.

“I didn’t know that the beer wasn’t non-alcoholic.” She looked up at Bill with the biggest apologetic eyes.

Bill wanted to melt, that’s how cute she was. He couldn’t be mad at her, even if she told him that she was the one who gave them the beer.

“I know.” He whispered to her and tried his hardest to keep a straight face but he never could with her – she always made him want to smile.

It didn’t take Fred and George 15 minutes to start snoring next to each other. Charlie covered George with a blanket and sat down next to Bill.

“Well, this didn’t go according to plan.” He sighed.

“I’ll say.” Bill took a sip of his beer.

“So, you two are getting close.” Charlie nodded toward Theodora who was now snoozing on Bill’s shoulder.

“Charlie, give me a break. I told you she’s too young for me.” Bill whined.

If Theodora wasn’t leaning against him, he would get up and leave. He can’t have this conversation again.

“You’re on this again,” Charlie rolled his eyes, “I thought you were over your age difference.”

“I heard aunt Muriel talk to the twins this morning and she said she’s too young for me. I knew I should’ve talked to someone else than you gits.” He frowned.

“Oh, come on! Who listens to aunt Muriel?”

“Charlie, seriously, give it a rest. This is killing me as it is.” Bill looked down at Theodora, wishing he didn’t – she was so beautiful when she was sleeping.

“If the age bothers you so much all you have to do is wait for another 6 months. She’ll be 18 in January.” Charlie tried cheering him up.

“Do you know how creepy that sounds?” Bill cringed.

“Not really, no.” Charlie rubbed his chin, saying it again in his head. “So what if she’s younger? In a few years that won’t matter at all. Once we get to our twenties the differences between someone who is 21 and someone who is 29 are almost invisible.”

“Since when are you so smart about these things?” Bill raised an eyebrow at Charlie.

“I have a lot of friends who, for some reason, come to me for relationship advice.” Charlie chuckled.

“So, Mr. Advice-Giver, did you ever have a case like this?” Bill teased.

“No. But I have a friend in Romania who is 42 and he liked this girl who is 23 and everybody told them that she’s too young for him but he went for it anyway and they’re really happy together.” Charlie said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not the same, Charlie.” Bill pouted.

“How is it not the same?” Charlie asked puzzled.

“It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t feel the same way anyway.” Bill sighed and looked up at the stars.

“Seriously?” Charlie pressed his lips together.

“What?”

“I am prepared to bet that she not only likes you but has feelings for you.” Charlie nodded at Theodora, whose arm was now wrapped around Bill’s, her eyes still closed.

“She just fell asleep on my shoulder,” Bill said, annoyed with his brother.

“Right, and she constantly sneaks looks at you and she giggles at everything you say and she spends most of her free time with you or near you,” Charlie smirked.

“None of that is important. We can’t happen, Charlie. All the teasing and winking you and the twins do can only be in good fun. We can’t be together.”

Bill turned back to Theodora, looking at her longingly. The words hurt more than he would like to admit, especially because this was the first time he said them out loud, and now more than ever was he convinced that he was making the right decision.

“Alright,” Charlie gave up, “your heartbreak not mine.”

Exactly. It was his choice. He knows she is too young. And Charlie is delusional to think that she fancies him back. And there is simply too much distance between them once he goes back to Egypt. He has more reasons why they can’t be together, but right now, those convinced him enough to look away from her.

[thirsthourdemon]

Headcanon on their online platforms but mainly on Twitch, onlyfans stuff, patreon, tumblr

Includes: Demon bros + undateablesss

Genre: Crack, Fluff and slight smut

Warnings: NSFW mentions

||Lucifer

-He didn’t have a big online presence because he was active, no no

-He had an online presence cause everyone always sees him on Diavolo s pictures and such so for a time they shared an audience

-One time Diavolo and Barbatos were doing a thing where they read a book aloud for some sort of game

-Diavolo kind of recorded that for a little bit

-ASMR I TELL YOU

-People liked it so much they suggested for “the one with the deep cold voice”, luci, to do asmr on youtube or something

-He doesn’t know what an Onlyfans is however he does have a patreon.

-Diavolo was interested in the idea and discussed it with him

-HE BLEW UP CAUSE EVERYONE WAS FREAKING OUT OVER HOW AMAZING HIS VOICE WAS OF COURSE! 😡

-His fandom consists of either people who are interested in what he reads or...Horny people who get off at how proper and low his voice is

-His profile picture is a picture of him with his head cropped out where he’s fixing his gloves

-Luci isnt like super famous but he has a loyal fanbase that appreciates him a lot also lots of simps with daddy issues

-He was confused as to why someone would ask him to be their father

-He gets the daddy kink but why???

-Last post: A picture MC took where he’s holding a whip cause mammon fucked something up 🙂

||Mammon

-Bold of us to assume he didn’t already have one

-You already know why he’s on here.

-He has random content but he mainly got his audience since he kind of tried modeling thing for a while. It was for a big brand on their new jock type jackets

-Mammon really wanted cash at that time and he got the thing over and done with making him a couple more grims richer

-The photographers told him they could transfer the pictures though! So he just saved his pictures because “Who wouldn’t want a picture of THE mammon?”

-That gave him the idea

-His audience? Whoreknee

-They even accept the fact that his captions for some pictures are “You should be honored you get pictures of me”

-He posts that with a blushing face half of the time HAHAHAHA

-Levi found it and just laughed at the pictures

-Surprisingly enough the pictures were actually well taken because MC was forced into em

-His most popular picture was the one with him was actually a picture that the brothers took of him tucking in what appeared to be goldie on a seperate MINI BED WITH A SMALL TOY LAMP BESIDE IT

-He did a QnA for his followers to celebrate on his instagram

-PFFTT He got so many questions about Goldie

-Was dubbed “Goldie’s Daddy” after that

-Last post: A picture of him wearing the new Luxury brand jacket he got and his keys in front of his car with the caption “Daddy’s going for a ride”

||Leviathan

-I’ve always head canon that Levi knows how to draw digital emotes. Like he just picked it up cause he wanted to make fanart of him in henry together 😔

-Also has a red bubble or an etsy where he sells some prints and stickers of fanart 👀

-He went on twitch since there were so many TSL streamers there who just played games while they discussed theories as well

-Levi is an emote artist and while he draws he sometimes just discusses the theories with his fellow Yucky Otakus

-He’s the type to really interact with everyone even though he barely does that in real life

-Sometimes though when he gets packages that fans sent or ones that he ordered he’d stream unboxing them.

-He hates showing his face? Oh dont worry He’s wearing a facemask and all that

-His fandom is genuinely into him. Like they actually like him as a person but kinda once got into a scandal on gatekeeping

-He took a break for a bit but he kind of said sorry and everyone just forgave him because he isn’t really the type to do drama and it was just that one instance-

-Overall loved by the community due to how chill he is and how invested he is on fan theories

-He has a twitter btw and lemme tell you it’s just threads and threads of discussions

-Whenever he does stream unboxing videos though and he shows his shelves everyone freaks out how he has EVERY FUCKING VOLUME OF EVERY ANIME AND GAME

-People sometimes ask him personal questions and he tries his best to try to answer them but he shows a face where he looks uncomfy

-Everyone just bullies anyone who makes him uncomfy giving his fanbase a very protective reputation

-Last post: “Unboxing fanmail L8er @ 10pm LOL CYA GUYS XD”

||Satan

-He has a tumblr. You cant tell me he doesn’t have one.

-He had tumblr like back in the old day though like when porn was still available here.

-Get this...He’s known all through out the academia blogs. He INVENTED Academia

-Satan has 1 blog and that’s it. It’s his main blog and he just posts pictures of the book cover and does essays, reviews or sometimes he writes the ending he wanted to happen.

-Dont get me wrong he has a patreon but only because people loved getting more exclusive takes of stuff like his book notes on certain pages or sometimes his notes and thoughts on Artistic Erotica

-Probably has a Ko-Fi because he though he needed it after most of the blogs he followed had it

-He thinks it should be “Table of Content” and not “Masterlist” so he uses just that

-Profile picture is him wearing his signature washed out green grandma sweater while he has a book in hand and a cup of earl grey on his table

-People go to him falling in love with his aesthetic and Book reviews but they stay in love with him because he is big on one on one discussions actually

-He goes for one on one voice calls where he just...He talks to you about any book of your choosing

-Fans send him tea but he knows better than to eat something a stranger gives so he makes beel take a taste first sometimes but ultimately scolds the boy when he takes too much

-He wasn’t supposed to have merch but everyone liked the idea of small packages (More like letters) that really do look old and vintage

-He usually only give those to the people who pay for the top tier stuff

-It usually contains 1 type of tea, a letter he wrote for them himself and a bookmark with his name stamped on it

-He got the stamp custom made ❤️

-Last post: (Insert 5k word essay)

This is what I thought of Edgar Allan Poe’s “A cask of Amatillado”

Playlist: (Insert soft classic Music playlist on Spotify)

Tea: Black Currant

||Asmodeus

-ONLY FANS THROUGH AND THROUGH

-Is a brand influencer as well

-The brand ambassador of this pretty well known semi-luxury skin care brand

-His devilgram? Perfectly made by his PR team which is just him and solomon

-Before I move onto the NSFW stuff I want to emphasize how Beautiful his instagram is and his aesthetic

-His aesthetic is romantic/sexual tension/Unparalleled beauty

-Also a make up brand influencer and has his own make up line

-something along the lines of “The Devil’s box of charms 🖤”

-The type to DG live whenever he’s just showing off the make up look he did or the outfit he got

-The house of lamentation may have PR packages stacking up due to how most of them have an online influence but out of 10 boxes 7 of them would be for Asmo

-OKAY NOW ONTO NSFW STUFF

-Lemme tell you this...He has a specific drawer and space in his closet just for the sexy outfits he has.

-The demon’s onlyfans has pictures of him just teasing his audience where he’s wearing a black skintight get up and his bulge is showing

-Nudes are for mid and top tiers

-His fandom loves seeing in stocking and chokers

-“The choker is from etsy and here’s the link to their shop~”

-He doesnt completely show his body but...Him in suggestive clothing gets everyone pre cumming

-His fandom is just filled with simps 😔

-He loves them and blows a kiss towards the camera everytime he ends a live

-Probably has had a scandal or 4

-Posted an Ahegao once and everyone lost it

-Has been the face for Ahegaos ever since

-Belle delphine who?

-Definitely tik tok famous too 😎

-Has memorized all of Doja Cat’s songs

-Last post: “Hope you guys are ready for tonight’s session~ 😈” With a picture of him in an Fuchsia and black themed lingerie set. A collar with a bell on it.

-Bonus: One time Solomon summoned him while he was taking pictures and he was still in his lingerie set. 😛

||Beelzebub

-Was originally inspired by Mukbangs Channels so he did them on youtube too

-You get his Mukbangs on your recommended, You subscribe because of his cute and funny reactions whenever someone in the backgrounds is astounded to how much he’s eating

-Everyone knew beel as a cute guy who just does Mukbangs and loves to eat

-He once did a fridge raid and ended up eating everything in the fridge

-That was THE MOST CHAOTIC VIDEO on his channel cause you can just see luci and MC trying to make him stop

-He eventually got a patreon because mammon told him people will give him more money for food like that and to be honest he made a patreon but mammon takes care of it from time to time

-Oh you knew him as this sweet beautiful boy who just likes eating? hERe HavE sOmE WorKOUt pICs

-His body got everyone thirsty or may I say Starving

-S I M P S everywhere

-His patreon content is just him making small videos eating or pictures of him being all sweaty from the gym 😛💦

-“DADDY BWDONMXMSKC PLEASE FEED US”

-“Eh? You should feed me instead” *opens his mouth*

-Fans send him lots of boxes of weird food to see his reaction sometimes

-Did the fire noodle challenge a bit late but everyone is surprised to how he isn’t giving the reaction like they expected him

-Spice tolerance? Unmatched

-His fandom is either “UwU Beel please eat try this!” Or “Daddy Please FEED US WITH YOUR DELICIOUS THIGHS! 😩🥵💦💦💦”

-He does the service where he sends you his body building pictures except he isn’t sending them, Mammon is.

-Manager Mammon 😎 Gets a half of the profit

-Can I just...BeelProbablyHasnevergottenintoanyscandalbuthasalotofhaterssayingthefansonlylikehimforhishandsomefaceandgreatbodyandnicevoicebutlikewhatiswrongwithlikinghimbecauseofthosethings?Itisntbadtolikethatstuffatall

-Last post: “🍙 Thank you to @(Your Username) for the Onigiri! I finished the whole batch! Please send more food”

||Belphegor

-Sleep Guru

-Im sorry but I cant see him having any other social media aside from tumblr, twitter and Devilgram

-Belphie barely checks his phone but he has tumblr because apparently there’s a thing called the SandMan’s Box Community

-It’s like LootCrate, a subscription service that gives you stuff like Comfy Pillow sheets and tea for better sleeping

-This even gives you something like sleeping masks or ear muffs.

-The community is well...nocturnal

-His ask box is always full of his 100+ mutuals who just discuss stuff with him

-Whenever he actually does try to type online he makes articles about the best sleep positions or stuff like that

-His fandom is just loving mutuals who sleep and take care of each other

-They have a discord server where it just plays soft music to help everyone sleep

-Last post: “Humans aren’t so bad when they’re asleep”

||Luke and Simeon

-He has a big following on twitch where he just bakes sweets in his cute little hat and-

-Clearly you can tell I follow him on twitch

-The type of twitch streamer that no one hates on because why would you? He is literally just baking and cute comments

-Sometimes he streams with Simeon and everyone loves both of them

-When people give money they dont give “money” no no...they call donating headpats

-Luke is just so adorable that everyone just...

-“Angel Lulu’s Protection Squad⭐️”

-He got famous when he...He doesnt want to call it a collab but He made a lot of sweets and gave them to beel so everyone freaked out and thought

-THE SWEET BOY THAT EATS A LOT AND THE ANGELIC CHILD THAT MAKES SWEETS A LOT ARE FRIENDS?!

-He is now pissed that everyone thinks they’re friends 😠

-Basically his fans started making dishes and candy inspired by him

-Sometimes they send it in and Simeon has to confiscate some because

-“Im sorry, guys. You are all really sweet and I know that you mean well but Luke isn’t allowed much sweets yet”

-No one ever EVER lewds luke

-Fortunately Luke’s fandom has the least amount of pedophiles because everyone drives them away the moment they try something

-Whenever luke does fan mail/unboxing videos people just adore how Simeon places a glass of water at the table below the camera and the scissors or cutter he uses is child proof

-Even though Luke is the main person on his account everyone also notices Simeon.

-How couldn’t they? He looked like he wanted to make everyone in the audience live a better life

-Add that with luke’s wholesome baking and BOOM! You are now ready for a better life🌟

-Last post: It’s a picture of Luke shyly showing of his new batch of sun and moon shaped sugar cookies. “Sun and Moon. Tune in later at 3 pm to see how we made these!”

||Solomon

-He barely posts but he helps asmodeus with his stuff

-Too busy with anything else but helps out when things get interesting

-Proposes Ideas for Asmo sometimes when the demon doesn’t know what to wear for a live or a story

-Laughs at Asmo sometimes when he gets into scandals and drama

-Happy cameraman ❤️

-People follow him because 1.) He’s hot 2.) The fans ship him with Asmodeus

-Last Post: “When will you learn 🙂”

||Diavolo

-He is a vlogger~ Not a very active vlogger but a vlogger nonetheless

-He films anything he can but he’s more known on tik tok and devilgram rather than twitch or youtube

-People have been thirsting for him ever since and no one can convince me that they dont just shamelessly call him daddy whenever he goes on live

-Barbatos makes sure however that whenever it isnt appropriate anymore that he would tell diavolo to turn the camera off

-Wranggled Luci into his mess and now everyone knows the face of that one dude who just reads documents

-Everyone lowkey ships them

-Diavolo is the type to take a picture of a big meeting or a retreat out of instinct to just document his life

-He actually didnt know about vloggers before but he just liked the thought of documenting it

-Everyone picks up “Master” vibes as they say from him hehehe

-He doesnt have an Onlyfans or patreon 😔😔😔

-I honestly would have subscribed to his services

-Last post: “Barbatos made a delicious meal for us at the retreat today” Along with a picture of the Beautiful Demon Delicacy Spread in the table.

Taglist: No one yet (Please be part of the taglist for more content like this ☹️ It’s getting really discouraging)

[stayforya]

I DON’T KNOW IF WE CAN BE FRIENDS | PT. 2

member: hwang hyunjin

genre: college!au

words: 7.6k

summary: rebuilding a broken relationship is not as easy as it seems, but hyunjin doesn't seem willing to give up. there is still one last chance: 36 questions.

a/n: finally, here is the second part, as some of you asked for! I love this story, so it was great to write a happy ending for it (oops, spoiler?). sorry for the delay & hope you like it! <3 

link to part 1

as hyunjin always did

whenever he showed up, he messed with your thoughts, feelings and life as a whole

when he transferred to your university, you knew what would happen

but you were trying to avoid things

as if you could… silly you

he was everywhere

when you finished your classes, he was finishing his and you always saw each other outside of your buildings

when you were walking back to your dorm, you could see him

when you were looking for a place to sit, your eyes would meet

when you met minho and his friends, he was also there

you thought he was following you, trying to make you talk to him again after what you said of not being sure if both of you could be friends again

but it wasn’t it

of course he wanted to see you by the way his eyes always looked for you

but he was at the same places you were because

1. his building was right next to yours, so at the start or the end of the day, before or after classes, it was impossible not to bump into each other

2. you were the one who showed him around and introduced him to places, since minho asked that day when hyunjin arrived

minho was supposed to do that job, but he was very very busy, so he asked you to help hyunjin

and you couldn’t say no

not to hyunjin, but to minho

after helping him during the first two days, you didn’t talk to him again

and everything was okay like that

you got to see minho a lot after the exams, so you had a lot of fun together

you two always enjoyed these moments because it was uncertain when they would happen again

as a senior, minho usually was busy and had many extra activities to attend to

you didn’t get angry at all

not only because it’s impossible to be angry at his cute face

but because it was his future, he wanted to do the best he could during the undergraduate years

three weeks after the day hyunjin transferred for good, he suddenly disappeared from your sight

you used to see him every day and then you didn’t see him anymore

nowhere

ok, you weren’t worried at all

he had given you his new number but of course you’d not call or text him 

until your phone buzzed in your pocket

you were in front of your building, standing, when you read the text

hyunjin: “given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?”

what?

what was that? out of everything he could send you, why that question?

was that a trick or a joke of the freshmen?

you: “what do you mean?”

hyunjin: “it’s important. answer, please”

you rolled your eyes

you: “I don’t know. maybe ed sheeran.”

ok, was that the answer he was supposed to get?

you just said the first person that came to your mind

and to be honest, ed sheeran’s songs were so good, you’d definitely have topics to talk about during a dinner

“ed sheeran?”, you heard a voice getting closer to you

you turned your face in the voice’s direction so fast your neck almost cracked

it was hyunjin, his phone in his right hand

you crossed your arms

“am I a joke to you?”

he smiled, “I just didn’t expect this answer, but ed sheeran is definitely a good choice”

“and what did you expect?”

he shrugged

“I would choose someone that could teach me something during the dinner”, he said, “like a nobel prize winner”

“so you’re telling me ed sheeran has nothing to teach me?”, you started to walk, leaving him behind

but he followed you

“that’s not what I said, I respect your answer”

“thanks”, you turned to him, “I wasn’t even going to answer. why did you ask me this out of nowhere?”

you were trying to understand what was that

if it was a game or something like that

“ok”, he sighed, “this is part of my psychology club”

you frowned, “do you have interest in psychology?”

he never mentioned that before and his major was not psychology

well, people are full of surprises, right?

“I got in this club, so they gave us this”, he showed you a paper with a bunch of questions, “if we want to go through the experience, we can write an essay and get good extra points in any course we choose”

you narrowed your eyes

“so… am I supposed to help?”

he smiled

ok, that was cute

“if you can”

“what is this for? 36 questions to fall in love?”

“so you know this”

“I see what you’re doing there”, you started walking again and he ran to stop you, standing in front of you

“wait, wait, will you do this for me?”

“fall in love, hwang hyunjin?”

“come on, no, this is not about falling in love. and we may already know each other’s answers for these questions”, he looked at you, “I would like you to help me with this”

you looked at him standing there

at that moment he was the hyunjin you first met years ago

no need to put your guards up because he was being completely honest

and did that really work? you saw some videos about those questions on youtube but no one knows what happens next

maybe they just make two people know each other better so they create some kind of connection

but falling in love?

was that a risk?

you fell for him before, would the questions make it happen again?

“fine. text me when you need an answer”

“sometimes we need to answer this face to face”, he said

“you know where to find me”

you started walking again, on your way to meet your friends and eat

you didn’t know but hyunjin was still standing there, smiling to himself

as if he won something

during the night, you couldn’t stop thinking about those questions

you googled every single one of those thirty-six questions

and you immediately knew you wouldn’t want to answer some of them

or maybe you could think of the best answers to not let much of your feelings come out

sigh

no, you couldn’t

you had a lot of things to work on

you didn’t have time to think about the questions for the whole night

besides that, hyunjin would probably give up before you two finished the thirty sixth question

just stop overthinking and sleep already

next morning, you woke up feeling good

you know when you just feel unbothered

you slept well, so you were feeling like that

you took a shower, got ready, ate something and went to your first class of the day

while you were walking to the building, you felt it

you felt someone running behind you

and there he was

by your side, catching his breath

“morning”, he stopped, hands on the knees, out of breath

“morning. why are you running?”

“I have a class now”

you looked at him, “come on, I know you want to make the second question”

he raised his eyebrow, unconcerned

“not exactly, we still have time”

you shrugged, “okay then”

“you know the second question, don’t you?”

“I don’t remember”

he giggled, “I know you, y/n. that’s why I’m sure you searched for all the questions”

“sorry, you’re wrong, hyunjin”, you lied

did you forget for how long you two were best friends? he knew you very well

“alright. but here goes the second question: would you like to be famous? in what way?”

“‘in what way’, as if the author knew we’re going to say yes”

“I’ll reformulate it: ‘if so, in what way?’”

you appreciated his effort

“you answer first”, you said

you two were still walking, but slowly now

“I would like to. if it was for doing something I love, like playing with the band, I’d like to. it’s not a goal, you know. but if it happened… I’d be fine with it”, he said

you liked how carefree he was sometimes

of course he had his moments

you saw him crying before, not just once, because he was worried about a lot of things

or just because he was touched about something

but when it comes to the future, he has some kind of assurance

he would make it work either way

whatever he had to do, he’d learn, find a way, create

hyunjin was sensitive and you liked that

but he was also confident

and you liked that too

“I wish I was like this”

“how?”, he asked

you held a smile and shook your head

“nevermind. I don’t think I’d like to be famous. seems like it’s too much to handle”

he nodded

“but wouldn’t you be able to handle?”

“I don’t think so. or maybe I don’t want to”, you two laughed

“don’t underestimate yourself, y/n”, he walked fasted and turned to face you, “I gotta go now”

he waved

“yeah, me too”, you were already close to your building

the class was about to start

“see you?”

“see you”, you said

the first two classes were great

but during the third one you were so exhausted already

too much to catch on, too much information at once

your hand was already tired of writing everything the professor was talking

when your phone lighted up

you quickly put your hand on it to cover the light

and slowly took it off to see the notification

“hyunjin: name three things we have in common”

you two hadn’t agreed on sending texts during the classes

and you didn’t want that to become a habit

but come on

just that time

that was an interesting question

“you: this isn’t the third question”

“hyunjin: so you googled the questions, huh? lol”

he always knew when you were lying

you forgot that

you decided to ignore and answer the main question

“you: one, we study in the same place.”

a good one, indeed

making obvious statements was the best, so he couldn’t make the same ones

“you: two, we lived in the same city for almost our whole lives.”

obvious again

“you: three, we know each other very well”

you wanted the last to be a little more… intimate

because he knew you, he probably knew how you were playing that game

keeping it simple

not going too deep

“hyunjin: good ones. we really do know each other very well”

yes

that was his way of saying he knew what you were doing

“hyunjin: 1. we like sunsets 2. we like ice cream the most (mint chocolate or rainbow sherbet for me, as you know) 3. we have friends in common”

“we have friends in common” as if you two weren’t the friends the other people had in common

yes, you both liked sunsets

a lot, by the way

your favourite memories with hyunjin were definitely in the end of the day

when the sun was setting

and you two were having ice cream while enjoying each other’s presence

you smiled by remembering that

but when you came back to reality, the professor’s voice was a little louder

you got startled

before putting your phone back in your bag

you answered

“you: it’s been so long since I ate ice cream. anyways, you definitely did it better than me”

“hyunjin: of course I did, you didn’t even try too hard lol let’s have ice cream then”

he had nothing to lose, after all

“you: it proves my third point. anyways, we can have ice cream.”

you knew he was smiling wherever he was

and you were too

you had a quick break for lunch and met your friends to eat together

“you’re definitely in a good mood today”, one of them told you

“woke up like this”, you said, drinking your orange juice

“guess what?”, the other friend checked her phone, “I have a date!”

“what?”, you covered your mouth with your hands

“is it that boy? the one from the concert?”, your friend asked

“yeah! we were just talking but finally he asked me out”, she answered

she met this guy during the last festival

the exact one you saw hyunjin again after a long time

she started giving details about when, where and what she was going to wear for the date

in your group of friends, when one of you had something important coming up, everyone would expect a lot too

during the whole lunch time, the date was the biggest subject of your conversation

“wait, is that guy looking for you?”, your friend questioned, looking at somewhere you couldn’t see because of how the way you were sitting

“what? which guy?”

you thought about minho

“that friend of yours… I forgot his name. oh, he’s coming”

you didn’t turn to look, just waited

and there he was, standing by your side

“hi, sorry for interrupting”, he said with the smile that made everyone smile too

the reason why almost no one could feel angry at him

“it’s okay”, your friends told him

“y/n, I need your help”

“what for?”

“do you have free time today? after lunch?”

“I still have one class to attend to”, you said, wanting to know what he needed before accepting anything

“and after that?”

you looked at your friends

you wanted them to save you

but you couldn’t lie because he would know

and they weren’t going to help you with any lies because they always found hyunjin a nice guy

“I’m free”, you finally gave up

“great, can we meet, then?”

your friends were looking at you

you looked up at him

“is it for that project you’re working on for the club?”

you didn’t have to, but you felt like it would be important to give an explanation about what he was talking about

“yep”, he said

“I’ll find you in front of my building at 2pm”

he just winked, greeted the girls again and walked away

“he’s that long-time friend of yours, isn’t he?”, your friend asked

“yeah, he transferred. I told you girls”

“I remember”, she said, “he’s cute, don’t you think?”

they always teased you about every single boy ever just because you didn’t seem very interested in your romantic life

“nah, he’s just fine”

“come on, she’s into minho”, your other friend pointed out

“if we at least had time to meet again”, you said

they sighed as you stood up to go to class

“seniors are too busy, I wonder if we’re gonna be like this”

“we’re not gonna be like that, he just likes to study too much”, she said and you all laughed

ok but being real

you were excited about what you and hyunjin were going to do

he didn’t give any explanation but it was related to the project

so it was okay

that was why you were excited, right?

anyways, when you finished everything you had to do

when your class ended

you were in front of your building when he approached with ice cream in both of his hands

he was so unbothered eating his ice cream you almost smiled

he handed you the one in his right hand

“is it still your favourite?”, he asked

“yes”, you accepted

that ice cream tasted so good

hyunjin was probably thinking the same because he wasn’t even talking, just eating

he stopped by this table under a tree

“so, when are we starting?”

he finished eating, “now”

“is it going well? in your psychology club”

“very well! they’re great. everyone is sharing stories about the experiment”

“are we doing it right, based on other people’s stories?”

he shrugged, “yeah, it’s actually a very particular experience for every pair”

you nodded

“ok, let’s continue…”, he found the list, “next question: for what in life do you feel the most grateful?”

you were still eating your ice cream, so he looked away and started to talk

“I feel the most grateful for the opportunities I had in life and for the ones I’ll still have”, he said

it somehow sounded deep

hyunjin was always playful and fun

but sometimes he was very thoughtful

“do you think all the opportunities and chances you had brought you here today?”

“yes. I guess it somehow shapes us. for instance, I had the opportunity to transfer here. if I didn’t have, I’d still be there where I was, which wasn’t bad, but wasn’t what I wanted anymore”

“and the ones you have today will take you somewhere else”

“yep. I am grateful for each one of them. even this one, to be honest”, he said, now looking at you

“which one?”, you looked right into his eyes

“the opportunity of making up for the time I missed”

you didn’t know what to say

honestly, looking into his eyes wasn’t the most comfortable thing after everything that happened, but now

at that moment

it was comfortable

and maybe that’s why you couldn’t look at anywhere else

“I am the most grateful for all that I have and for all that I don’t know yet, which are what make me dream”

you two were staring at each other so immersed in that moment

that anyone walking by would wonder what you were talking about

you smiled quickly and looked away

“I admire that”, hyunjin said

you somehow felt awkward and started to change the subject

“what’s next?”

hyunjin read: “if you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?”

you thought for a whole minute before replying

“I would like to have been taught about loving myself earlier”

“it isn’t easy, though”

“it never is”, you agreed, “and I don’t really know if it would help anyways, because you only learn it by yourself. it’s an insightful process”

“but when someone loves you a lot, you can also learn that you are loveable and love yourself”

“I agree with you”

you remembered hyunjin’s words to you

how he loved everything about you

at that time, you felt so loved by him, you were loving yourself a lot too

not that you can only love yourself when someone loves you

but the way he loved you opened your eyes to how you were still worthy of love, even with your flaws

“for me, I wish I was more independent since always”

“you look very independent, though”

“I have improved a lot but it wasn’t always this easy”

with every question, it was obvious how you two were feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence

hyunjin was aware of that and he was smiling more

joking more

like he always did

but now you were laughing with him too

joking too

that was the difference

the next step was “take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible”

hyunjin started

he talked about his childhood, about growing up, about his family, his little dog, his friends, his first kiss (which wasn’t you), and his first love

he didn’t name his first love

he said she had a beautiful smile that made his heart melt at the first time he saw her

and the best thing about it was that she didn’t even try

when he and she became friends, they were just friends

for real

and they were like this for a long time

until they fell in love

which wasn’t hard

because it happened so naturally

they didn’t even know if they were dating or not

but he loved her a lot and he never wanted to hurt her in any way

of course, life goes on and things happen

so he moved after high school, went to college

met new friends

even met another girl

she was fun and smart

but they didn’t work out

and every time he was sad during that year

he thought about his long-time friend

or ex-friend

wondering what she was doing

his time was over

the timer warned

you knew the whole story

not the college part because that was when both of you were apart

he found someone else there

you didn’t know that, but isn’t it expected?

you met new people too, had a love interest

and now you were face to face

telling what you both missed in each other’s life

it was your time

you spent a long time talking about your childhood so you didn’t have to be very detailed about your high school days

however, it was unfair

he opened his heart and you would hide yours?

so you said it

said that you had a first love too during high school

and that your heart broke when it ended

but it was okay now

your life changed when you started college

it was much busier now

and you met new people too

everything was new and it was the good part of it all

your time was over

it felt like telling your story to a stranger

because hyunjin knew almost everything you told

but still you were telling your story as if he didn’t

it was good, though, it felt like taking a weight off your shoulders

“I’m glad you met new people”, he said, “everyone should have a friend like you”

“thank you…”, your voice was lower

“it’s crazy how, even being apart, we still managed to have friends in common”

“are you talking about minho?”

“not only him, but yes”

“he’s great. he knows a lot of people, actually, so it’s not very surprising for me”, you already wanted to change subjects

you didn’t want to end up talking about how it was supposed to be

you and hyunjin meeting again

because you didn’t want to believe that

he transferred because he wanted to

so it had nothing like “meant to be” in that

right?

then you thought about what he said

opportunities

being with you, at the same university, was an opportunity too

so it had a certain percentage of fate, maybe

not “fate” in the strict sense of the word

but as something that would end up happening somehow, within the countless coincidences of life

next question was: “if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?”

hyunjin said he wanted to know if the 36 questions experience would work

“if falling in love is how it works in the end, I’m not sure if it will work”, you said

“I don’t mean falling in love exactly, maybe just bringing two people closer”

“then I’d like to know it too”

“it’s a crystal ball, you can know anything else”, he said

“I still want to know this”, you said

he giggled

question: “what do you value the most in a friendship?”

you answered “loyalty”

he answered “sincerity”

question: “what is your most treasured memory?”

hyunjin: “when I met my dog for the first time”

you two laughed

it was cute

he really adores his dog

you: “when I went to the beach for the first time and watched the sunset. I was still a kid”

“is that why you like sunsets?”

“I think so”

question: “what roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“it’s important. every significant relationship in life must be filled with love and affection”, you said

hyunjin nodded

“I totally agree. if the relationship doesn’t have love or affection, it’s just too shallow. I guess it loses the meaning”

“just by thinking someone important doesn’t have love or affection for you anymore, the whole thing loses meaning”, you didn’t mean to talk about you and hyunjin

even though it made sense if related to your friendship with him

“I guess that’s why we shall always say what we feel. the other person needs that”, he said

you wanted to agree with that

but it didn’t make sense to agree with something you weren’t doing

because you avoided hyunjin for so long

and he walked away from you too

so why agree when you weren’t being 100% real about your feelings?

you didn’t even know your feelings anymore

“do you think so?”, you asked him

“I do”

“did you always think like this?”

“no. it took a while to learn it”

was he talking about how he left, thinking that saying nothing would make things easier when it clearly didn’t?

you asked the next question: “alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. share a total of five items.”

“you’re the best partner for this experience”, he said

you laughed, “well, you’re funny, hyunjin. I like that”

was he blushing or was it just because of the ray of sunlight passing through the leaves of the trees?

“you didn’t have to go through this with me, still you accepted and is spending a whole afternoon answering questions. this shows how kind you are”

he caught you by surprise

you actually thought a lot about helping him with this

but somehow you just felt like you should

because you wanted to

and because it was hyunjin, after all

you resisted for too long

“your presence lights up the place”, you just let it out

by the way his eyebrows raised, he was surprised too

“ok, don’t make me blush”, he was already blushing, “you’re very committed to everything you decide to do. I’m not only talking about this experience”

“I gotta agree with that. we started then we’re finishing it. next… you pay attention to details”

“I do, I notice it all”, he shrugged in a funny way, “I think the way you look at me is positive”

you immediately looked away

that was what you loved and hated on hyunjin

he had this effect on you

he knew the right thing to say

if at least he was just a bad boy who didn’t want anything serious with you

but he was the kind-hearted guy you always knew

he cared about you

“why is that positive?”

“because I like it”, he answered immediately

“hm, anyways, you bought me ice cream, it’s positive”

he laughed, “come on, is it valid? I always did that”

“no, you spent a long time not doing that”

“you have a point. ok, last one”, hyunjin was thinking, “you’re a great friend, y/n. this is one of the most positive characteristics I see in you. no wonder everyone loves to have you around”

“what? I don’t think everyone loves to have me around”

“you can’t see it but whoever is around you loves to be there. I think… I think this is what I missed the most. being around you.”

you bowed your head so you wouldn't face him

“what could I do?”, you said, “I didn’t go away”

the silence has settled between you

your voice was low, stable, soft when it broke the silence

“you know what, hyunjin, something positive about you is that you can mess with my head. it’s positive to you, but I still don’t know how positive it is to me. you make me overthink, you make me wonder about the feelings I thought I buried, you make me want to spend a whole afternoon answering questions and eating ice cream. after all this time. that’s what you do. to be honest, I don’t understand. I want to, but I wonder: am I right? what does he want for real? is he leaving again tomorrow? I wish I could believe all the words you say, and I am believing, which is probably why I’m so worried.”

“y/n…”, he was speechless

his hand reached yours on top of the table

“it’s almost sunset time now, I gotta go back to my dorm”, you said

“y/n, don’t leave like this. I don’t want to mess with your head, I just want to have what we had again. I don’t want to change your life, but I’m here now, and I want to use this opportunity to make up for the lost time”

you stood up

“you were so important to me, hyunjin, and that’s why it hurt so bad when you left. you gave me the world and walked away. then when you started your whole new dream life, I understood that it was time for me to move on too, because you didn’t seem to care anymore. I know you already said sorry and I know you really are because – that’s another positive thing about you – you’re sincere. how I wish you were sincere back then too, so I wouldn’t have questioned everything you said to me before”

he held your hand again

gently

you could feel his rings next to your fingers

you didn’t want to turn to him and look at his face because his eyes would melt you down

but you did

and the sadness you saw on his face

he was worried

that broke your heart but you finally said it all

why did you have to love him so much?

why did he have to love you so much back then?

you did move on

you were fine where you were

but it was okay when you were without him

all fine, until he came back

“please tell me everything that you want”, he said

“I already did. there are still some questions left, but we can’t finish later, okay?”

he nodded while you let go of his hand

“thank you for the ice cream”, you tried to smile and started walking

“y/n”

he called your name

and you stopped

“I’m not going anywhere. you know where to find me because I am not going anywhere”

you didn’t look at him when he said that

but you knew he didn’t move a bit until you were far

you didn’t fight with hyunjin

it wasn’t supposed to be an argument or something

you just wanted to tell him what you were feeling for a long time

of course you wanted to be friends with him again

the problem was

being friends with hyunjin again would definitely make you fall in love again

you just knew that

you didn’t have to be lovers or date or anything

but you two would have to ignore the feeling until it was gone because it was just automatic

you would like each other as lovers because it happened before and it never had a real closure

the thing about him was also that he made you uncertain of how it would turn out

how long it would last

but weren’t you thinking too much?

why lose opportunities because of fear?

days went by

you and hyunjin finished the questions through text messages

not even commenting on each other’s answers

just answering

and to be honest that was so awkward

you were clearing doing that just because you had to

or maybe because deep down you two wanted but no one wanted to seem too much interested

you respected the order of the questions sometimes

at other times you selected randomly

so when hyunjin said you two finished the experiment

you believed, but part of you knew one or two questions were missing

“are you sure?”, you asked

he nodded and thanked you, “I’ll buy you ice cream as a payment”

“you know you don’t have to, hyunjin. I’m glad I could help you”

he smiled and walked away, leaving you there

standing in front of your dorm

watching him until he disappeared from your sight

hyunjin became part of your group of friends because he was friends with minho and other people

so when the group went out to eat, to an amusement park or to a concert

he was there too

you could feel his gaze on you

as if he was shy to say something, even though you knew you two were still talking

not too much, but as colleagues did

one day you had a date with minho

he had time those days so he wanted to spend with his friends and with you

of course you said yes

definitely

you and minho weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend

just friends who seemed to like each other more than just friends

you did like him

and you knew he liked you too

but lately, he was so so busy

it was almost impossible to have a moment for just the two of you

minho told you before that he was applying for a special course that would help him a lot when he graduated and applied for a postgraduate degree

you cheered him on

minho was so intelligent, you knew he had total capacity of doing anything he wanted

when he hugged you that day, you felt that he was thankful for everything you told him

and you knew he didn’t want to hurt you, that was why you were the first person he told about the application

if everything worked out, he would be leaving for six months, initially

to complete a semester of his major in another country, developing a research

he could apply again and stay for the whole final year

but he would come back to see you and his friends when he had holidays

you would miss him so much

but just seeing him happy like that

with such a great opportunity

your heart felt full

you were happy for him

when minho said he wanted to meet you again

that night

you knew he probably had news

and yes, he did

he said you were the first to know (after his parents, of course)

because you were the first to encourage him

and you deserved to know

you hugged him so so tight

his arms around your waist and yours around his neck

“I’m so happy for you, minho. I knew you’d be accepted”

“you’re just too kind”, he put his hands in the pockets

“when do you leave?”

“in two weeks… ah, I’m gonna miss it here”

“you should”, you said and he laughed

“I will. I’ll miss our times together, y/n”

“I’ll miss it too. but we’ll keep in touch, right?”

“definitely”

you were in silence for a second

that was when your heart felt

minho was leaving soon

you two never started to date

maybe it was supposed to be that way

but then you started to think

if it was different, how would it be?

you and him could have dated and still be dating

and you’d suffer so much to see him going away

or maybe you could have broken up already

and you’d still suffer

you almost smiled to yourself

minho was too important to you

you didn’t want to think about losing his friendship

even if meant that you two would never develop the romantic feelings that probably were there

but never had the chance to become anything else

“what are you thinking about?”

“you”, you replied right away

“oh”, he smiled, “what exactly?”

“just how we’ll miss you but how you’ll be able to live so many new things. don’t hold back, minho. you gotta promise me you’ll have the best time of your life”

“well, I’ll try, there’s too much to learn there and I’ll probably study even more, but I promise”, he giggled

you and him stopped walking, already in front of your dorm

“we could have been something else, couldn’t we?”, he asked

you knew what he was talking about

“yes, we could. maybe it’s just how it has to be”

he nodded, “I think so, too”

he reached out for your hand

“hey, don’t hold back too. promise me you’ll have the best time of your life”

you played with his fingers while looking at him

“I promise. you know what, you are one of the best things that happened to me here”

“am I?”

“yes”

“not gonna lie, you were one of my best surprises. when you arrived here, I knew you were special, y/n. that’s why I believe there’s so many good things waiting for you”

“come on”, you were shy, hiding your face

“I’m being 100% real. thank you for being the great supporter you are”

“that’s what friends do”

he hugged you

“yes, it is. I know things will be harder when I’m away, you know, communication… but let’s try to be always in touch. I told everyone we must keep the group chat very active”

you giggled inside his arms

“we will, and we’ll send pictures of us hanging out”, you joked

“hey, that’s unfair!”

you talked a little bit more

minho and you hugged again

and when it was late enough, you went to your room

you two were still going to meet for the next two weeks with your friends

to create new memories and spend time together

hyunjin was definitely going to be there

when you thought about him you decided to search for the questions again

just to be sure you two didn’t forget any of them

while you read the questions, you could remember the answers

but there was one specifically

you couldn’t remember the answers

did he forget or he just didn’t want to answer?

hyunjin was everywhere you were

obviously

it was always a group hangout

on minho’s last day, all of you went to the beach to have some fun

and it was fantastic

when he flied to his new university abroad, he sent pictures to you and your friends

the last weeks were great because you were surrounded of great people, great food and great moments

you didn’t send hyunjin a text to ask about the question you guys forgot to answer

and you also didn’t want to talk about it in front of your friends in common

so you just forgot

until an afternoon, weeks later

maybe even one month?

(you lost track of time during the exam’s weeks)

you found him buying ice cream and you approached

“got a moment?”

“yep”

“did we really finish the 36 questions? because I have this feeling that we left one out”

“did we?”

why was he acting so weird?

“I think so. question 33”

“I can’t remember now… but it’s okay, it’s just one”

“you’re kidding, right? you were all about these questions”

“yeah but we finished already, I submitted my essay and I got my points”, he seemed excited

he was walking faster than you

with those long legs, he used to walk faster and you always needed to speed up the pace even more

“did you really forget that one?”

he stopped

looked at you

and then someone screamed “y/n!”

it was your friend

you got stuck between paying attention to what your friend was saying and staying there to receive hyunjin's answer

but your friend was saying something about the grades from the last exam and you had to go there

“you didn’t answer me yet”, you said, running to her

hyunjin was standing there

smiling to himself

he said “you just didn’t find out yet” to himself

of course you wouldn’t hear

you were planning to watch the sunset that day

after all the stress of having so much to do

you were finally free

so you looked for your bag, the one you always took with you when you go out

phone, earphone and a book can fit perfectly there

since the last time you used it, you didn’t take the book out, just your phone

but this time, when you took it out

you found a paper tucked between the pages of the book

you didn’t put it there, did you?

it had the 33rd question written on it

“if you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? why haven’t you told them yet?”

you knew the handwriting very well

the answer was right below

I don’t know when you’re going to see this, but I left this question out because I didn’t know how to answer looking at you. maybe I’m too fearful sometimes. but it’s just because – you must know that – I’m a big fool for you. what I’m writing here is everything I would regret not saying to you and I haven’t told you yet because I can’t do it face to face. or because, if you reject it, you can just throw this paper in the trash and I’ll never know. however, I just can’t lose this opportunity. I had no idea how much I hurt you until that afternoon, when you said it. I knew you had a hard time, but after losing contact we weren’t able to talk openly about this until that day. if I haven’t told you before, I missed you every single day. I am sorry, and you know that. I don’t regret our relationship, and you know that. I can’t forget our moments together, and maybe you know that. I love you. I said it already and I’ll say it again, in case you thought it was a lie. we already recovered a lot of what we lost while being apart, but my heart keeps asking for more. it asks for your hugs, for your goofy laughs, for our deep conversations, for our sunsets together, for all the promises we made to each other… for your kisses. I respect your decisions and the way you want us to be because I know our abrupt breakup messed up everything. but if I still mess with your head – in the best possible way – please come to me when you read this. as I told you, I’m not going anywhere, so you know where to find me. I guess I answered the question.

you were speechless

your brain malfunction for a minute

and when you thought about it, you were still running

going downstairs

opening the front door

the sun was so bright your eyes hurt

it was the golden hour

the campus was quite empty because everyone had free time for other things

where are you running to?, you asked yourself

you didn’t know exactly

you didn’t know where he was

from afar, you could see someone's shadow against the sun, enjoying the sky beside that tree where you and hyunjin talked for hours

it was him

you knew it

you knew that cap

you knew those clothes

those bracelets

you knew all of him

running out of breath, you stopped

he noticed your presence and turned to you

you barely could see his face because he was against the sun

“y/n?”, he said your name

somehow it sounded sweeter than ever

“I found it”, you said, “your answer to the question”

he smiled

after the initial tension, he looked calm

“it took so long…”

“when did you put it there?”

“when we all went to the amusement park to celebrate with minho”

oh, that day

why didn’t you pay attention to your bag before?

“I’m so stupid… I just found it”

“it’s okay. you’d find someday. how did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t, I was looking for you”

he looked down and then lifted his head a bit to look at you

“so…”

did he want your answer?

“I would definitely regret not telling you that I want to try again, hyunjin. I haven’t said it yet because I was scared, because I still had questions on my mind. but now I think we shouldn’t waste time anymore. do you… still want to be friends with me again?”

you knew his eyes were beautiful when he smiled but under the golden hour it was even more beautiful

was it possible to be just friends?

you’d have time to find out

but when he hugged you like he did

like he always did

it felt so familiar and so new at the same time

“of course I do”, his lips covered by your hair during the hug

when you pulled away from the hug, your eyes met

you were very close

close enough

you two looked to the sky, the sunset time taking over

you both needed more, your words were hidden in the silence

he would probably wait for you, because he already said what he missed

so you already knew

“I wonder”, you just let the words come out, “can friends like us kiss?”

hyunjin looked at you

you two were being kissed by the sun

and it felt like that was the perfect time to kiss each other too

“I think we can become more than friends for a moment and come back to just friends, if you want to”

you laughed and he did, too

“because I missed this as much as you”, you said

slowly coming closer

his arms wrapped around you

your hands touching his nape

he tightened his grip

your lips were so close you could feel his breath

you felt his eyes analysing your whole face before staring at your lips

and then you finally kissed

after so long, you thought you would have forgotten its taste, but you didn’t

his kiss was the same, but better

because there was so much between you two

so much love

you wanted him, he wanted you

you both waited so long for this moment and it was finally there

sealed by that kiss

you wrapped your arms around his neck to be closer while his arms also held your back and his hands touched your spine

you didn’t want to let go but the good thing was that he didn’t want too

when you two stopped for a second, you couldn’t help but smile

he kissed your whole face

hugged you again

“I love you, please don’t forget that”, you said inside his hug

he gave you a peck on your lips

his face said it all, he was happy to hear that

“I won’t. but feel free to remind me whenever you want”

[cherrytdatt]

Sadness Ritual pt. 3

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Summary: Will Harrison's engagement party solve things between Y/N and Tom?

Warnings: N-O-T-H-I-N-G!

A/N: PART 3 IS HERE!!! after struggling a lot I finally did it. Part of this was inspired by the engagement scene in 'set it up' also know as my favorite rom-com ever so think about that vibe! I hope you guys like it. I really liked.

Playlist: No playlist...I heard so many things...It was a rollercoaster!

Part 1 | Part 2

Three months ago, at 3 am, Tom stood in your kitchen and said the words you wished for months to hear from him. And yet, you felt your entire chest hurt, and you couldn't look at him. You sent him home, and since then, you didn't see him again. But now, the inevitable was coming. Anna and Harrison's engagement party is in one day. You're the maid of honor, and Tom is the best man. Anna asked you if you would be okay seeing him again and, to be honest, you don't know, but it’s her engagement party. You won't deny the presence of her fianceé's best friend and best man.

"Ready for the party?" Anna asked while you two looked at some dresses in some store.

The party would be something small, just family and friends, in Tom's backyard. You wanted to help, but going to Tom's house, knowing he would be there, wasn't in your plans.

"Yeah! I'm so happy for you. And Harrison. Since your first date, I knew you two would get married," you said with a smile. "I remember I said I would be a shitty maid of honor," you said with a laugh. "And Tom said he would be a great best man," your smile faded a little when you thought about Tom.

"Did you talk to him?" Anna asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," you said simply.

"Harrison said he's feeling better, but still misses you," Anna said with a weak voice.

You cleared your throat. "I miss him too," you said almost in a whisper.

"Why don't you talk to him?" she asked.

"I don't know. Things got pretty bad between us. I'm still sad with him, and I'm sure he is sad with me too," you said, and the sadness in your voice was almost palpable.

"I'm sure he forgave you. And I think you already forgave him. You're just afraid," she said.

"Maybe. Let's see how mad I'll be when I see him tomorrow," you chuckled, but your voice was still sad. "D-do you...hum...do know what happened...to the girl?

"Oh, please! He ended things with her the morning after your fight, and never saw her again," Anna said.

"What you think of these?" you asked, putting a black floral dress in front of you, and changing the subject to hide how happy that information made you.

"Loved," she said animatedly.

"I'll try it," you said, going into the dressing room.

You didn't wanna think about Tom and all the situation now, but the talk with Anna got stuck into your head. 'He still misses you'. Her voice was louder and clearer than when you talked. You decided to buy the black dress for Anna's party. Thank God she chose a very casual party, so you could go with comfortable clothes.

"I see you tomorrow," Anna said goodbye, leaving you in front of your building.

You got into your apartment, still thinking about your talk with her. You missed Tom, more than anything in your life, but every time you thought about those pictures, and the fact that he did all that even though he liked you, you felt a strange and bitter feeling in your stomach. All you wanted was to talk to him and solve things, but you felt so afraid of what he would do and what he was willing to do to make things better. 

You used the rest of your night writing some essays you had to finish this week and watching some comedy on TV.

'Hey. How are you? I just wanna say that I can't wait to see you tomorrow. And I want you to know that I'm cool if you decide not to talk with me. I just want you to be okay 🙂' Tom's message took your attention away from the TV. You stared at the text, not knowing what to say. Of course, you wanted to see him, but talk to him would be the best thing? You really didn't know.

'Hi. I'm great. And you? I'm okay talking to you tomorrow,' you typed, throwing the phone on the other side of the couch like it was a bomb ready to explode. "Fuck!" you said, noticing the smile that appeared in your face.

'I'm good. That's good. I miss talking to you. How crazy it is that our friends are getting married?!@#$' The bleep from your phone made you smile again, and you reached for it, reading his text.

'Crazy as shit! We're not old enough for this,' you ignored the first half of the text on purpose. You missed him, but you weren't ready to let him know that yet.

'I keep saying this to Harrison, but he doesn't listen to me lol. But they love each other very much. Harrison showed me his speech, and I cried like a baby,' he said, and you laughed, remembering how easy it was for him to cry. He had a playlist just for that.

'Well, It's not that hard to make you cry lol. I chose not to hear Anna's speech. I wanted to be a surprise,' you confessed. She told you it would be very emotional, so you decided to enjoy with everyone else at the party.

'I don't cry that easily. I didn't even cry in my last movie,' he said, and you remembered you didn't watch the movie with him because the release happened when you were not talking.

'Congratulations on the movie, btw. I heard it's very good,' you said, confessing you didn't watch it. The real reason for you not to watch you weren't confessing. You didn't wanna hear see him or hear his voice. It was too painful.

'You didn't watch it yet? 😱' he asked, and you could see the shocked and offended look on his face.

'I'm sorry. I didn't have time,' you lied.

'We need to change this! This is unacceptable!' he said, and you wanted to invite him over to solve things once and for all. You wanted to sit in front of the TV, with Tom by your side, like you always did, and watch as many movies as possible.

'I'm going to bed now. See you tomorrow at the party,' you cut him off before he could ask anything else, and Tom noticed that. Because in one minute he was smiling at his cellphone, just about to ask you to watch a movie with him, and now he was staring at your last text, questioning everything he could've said or done to make things different.

"Hey, mate. Are you okay?" Harry asked, entering the TV room, and seeing his brother with a weird face, ignoring the TV.

"Yeah. Just...talked to Y/N," he said, pointing at his phone.

"Really? How did it go?" Harry asked, genuinely interested. He saw his brother whining and moping around the house for the last three months. After the pictures got released, Tom freaked out. He had to go to therapy, you stopped coming to their house, and he wasn't that cheerful guy anymore. Now, he was in a good place. Not like before, but he was getting there. And talk to you was the last step to make everything go back to normal.

"It was going back to normal, but then she shut me down. Not aggressively. She just didn't give me the opportunity to make things as normal as before," he said.

"Oh! I'm sorry, man. But that is better than nothing, right?" Harry shrugged. "And you are seeing her tomorrow. Who knows what can happen?" he smiled, and his brother did the same.

To say that this night was hard was an understatement. Tom couldn't sleep. He scrolled through his entire timeline on Instagram, watched a movie, then another one, ate, played video game, and when there was nothing else to do, he decided that 5am was a good time to go to the gym. But not even that helped him relax. He could feel every fiber in his body suffering from anxiety. Tea with his mom after lunch was the only thing that kept his mind calm for a few hours. After that, he went home to get ready for the party. 

There was no set of clothes in his closet that worked. Nothing was good enough. "Hey..." Anna called him from the door. "Want some help?" she offered.

"No. I know you have other things to do. I don't wanna bother you," he said with a smile.

"Not a chance. Everything is settled and I'm ready. Harrison is the one taking forever," she rolled her eyes. "I can help you," she said, getting into his room, and sitting in his bed. "What are your choices?" she asked.

"I don't have any," he scratched his neck, a little embarrassed.

"I think I know what to do," she said, getting up and going through his closet. "It will be simple..." she said, picking up a black pair of jeans and throwing at him. "But very cute..." she picked a black shirt.

"How can a black shirt with a black pair of jeans be cute?" he asked, looking at the clothes she gave him.

"Please..." she rolled her eyes. "You'll look cute," she picked a black cardigan, that he rarely used, and gave it to him. "And will match with the maid of honor, cause she's wearing black too," she finally gave him a white sneaker and a pair of glasses that he liked to use as a fashion statement.

"I'll match the maid of honor?" he asked, biting his bottom lip, trying not to smile.

"Perfectly!" Anna said with a happy smile.

Tom looked at the ground. "I talked to her yesterday," he said, putting the clothes on the bed before Anna could leave.

"And?" Anna said expectantly.

"I was just telling her she didn't need to talk to me today if she didn't want to. But, she said she was okay talking to me," his shrug was trying to sound like he didn't care, but his smile was showing the truth.

"I think you two will work things out," Anna said with a smile, leaning in the doorway.

"I hope so. I miss her so much, it's physically painful sometimes," he confessed with a sad voice.

"I know. I'm rooting for you," Anna said, going to him, and giving him a hug.

"Thanks," he said, and she smiled, leaving him alone.

Soon, the house was getting crowded. The backyard was decorated with fairy lights and wooden furniture. The waiters and waitresses walked around the house, serving beer and pizza.

Tom tried to distract himself, talking to as many people as he could. His mom, dad, and brothers were there since they were practically Harrison's family. His mom was feeling his son's anxiety.

"Are you okay?" she whispered to him.

"Great," he said, but his voice sounded anxious. He kept moving his weight from one foot to another. "She'll be here soon," he said.

"I know. And you'll let her be. Otherwise, you'll scare her," she said.

"Yeah...sure," he agreed. He glanced at the door as he did at least fifty times in the last hour, and for his surprise, this time you were there, taking off your jacket, revealing the black floral dress Anna said you would wear. And you two were matching. Tom's smile grew wilder unconsciously. You talked to some guests that were inside the house and then went outside, joining Anna and Harrison. You looked like an angel. Tom couldn't believe he survived all this time away from you. You looked at him for a second, and he saw Anna whispering something to you. You smiled, widely, and Tom felt like he had won the night.

You walked toward him, going to talk to his family. You didn't see Nikki for so long. You missed drinking tea with her, talking about your life, asking for advice.

"Hey, Ms. Holland," you greeted her.

"Hi, sweetie. Long time, no see,' she said, hugging you.

"Yeah. I was...busy," you said, looking at Tom for a split second and then to her again.

"I imagined. How is everything going? College. Work. Life?" she asked.

"Pretty much the same. I meant to call you a few times in the last months, but I didn't wanna bother you," you said sincerely. You really thought about calling and talking to her.

"Don't be silly. I would've loved talking to you," she said with a kind smile. "Let's have lunch this week. What do you think?"

"I would like that very much," you said, relieved that she didn't hate you after all the drama.

"Dom, look who is here," she said, calling her husband's attention. He said goodbye to the person he was talking to, engaging in conversation with you two. Sometimes your eyes met Tom's, and he noticed a sparkle in them every time you did. He didn't say anything while you were talking to his parents. He didn't want to upset you. "If you excuse us, darling, we're gonna talk to some friends," Nikki said, caressing your arm.

"Sure, go ahead," you said with a smile. They left, and it was just you and Tom.

"Hi," he said softly, trying to contain his excitement.

"Hey," you said, scratching the label of the bottle you were holding, anxiously.

"You look really good," he said, drinking a sip of his beer after.

"Thanks. You too," you were avoiding his eyes.

"Anna helped me choose this," he pointed to his clothes.

"It looks good," you smiled, finally looking in his eyes.

Tom couldn't hold it anymore. His mind wanted to keep it cool, but his mouth was faster. "I miss you. Everyday," he said. You looked at him, and all your worries were dead. All you could think was how much you missed him and how much you wanted him back in your life.

"I..." you started.

"Okay, everyone...it's toast time," Anna said clinking her glass with a fork. You and Tom looked at each other. Tom was afraid he had ruined his only chance. You were sad cause you couldn't tell him you missed him too.

"I'll go first," Harrison said, and some people cheered. "So...Anna. What can I talk about Anna?" he joked. "I'm kidding. I'll just say that the first time Y/N brought you around," he looked at you, raising his bottle, and you smiled. "That day, I knew I would marry you. I didn't say anything cause we were all friends, and I didn't want to scare you. But then, we were watching England's game at the 2018 World Cup, and when we lost, you cried. At that moment, I knew I had do something to make you mine, cause we were made for each other. Two months later I asked you out, and we started dating. Now I'm happy to say that we're gonna cry over the English team together, forever," he said the last part, looking at her. Everyone around cheered and applauded them and Anna gave him a quick kiss.

"Okay, now it's my turn," Anna said, taking a step forward. She was a showoff. "Are you ready to cry?" she asked, looking at him, and he smiled, nodding. I thought I would never find someone that I loved enough to ignore their flaws and accept spending my life with them. Unlike from you, when we first met, I thought great eyes, great body," she laughed, looking at him. "We could be friends. I mean, Tom and Y/N were always together. It wasn't like we could ignore each other," she said, and you and Tom looked at each other. A bit of sadness in your eyes, thinking about how that part wasn't true anymore. "But then, I got to meet you better, I started to see your flaws, and yet, dislike you wasn't an option even if I tried. My grandma always said 'we like because...we love despite...' I like you because you're nice to me, you are my best friend and you always search for me in a room when someone tells something funny, just to see my reaction. And I love you despite you being the last one to get ready, your gym schedule, and all the times you yell 'Wonderwall' in my ear, even though you know I hate this song," she finished. Her eyes were glistening with tears, just like everybody else. It took a few seconds for people to start cheering and clapping them. Harrison hugged her, with a wide and bright smile.

"Great speech," you said, going to her and Harrison, and hugging them. Tom following right behind you.

"I almost cried again," Tom said, hugging Harrison.

"Almost?" Anna asked, her thumbs brushing the corner of his eyes, cleaning a tear that threatened to fall.

"It was a really good speech," he defended himself.

"Thanks," she smiled. "We're gonna talk to...some people. We see you guys later?" she said holding your hand, and you and Tom nodded.

"We're gonna eat something," he said, resting his hand on your lower back, and they left. "Can we talk?" he asked, once Harrison and Anna left.

 "Yeah, sure!" you said, and he noticed the anxiety in your voice. At least he wasn't the only one that was afraid.

He walked to his room, opening the door so you could go in first. You walked to the window, looking at the party that was happening downstairs.

"It looks really good from here," you said. "They are so happy," you smiled, watching Harrison and Anna dance together.

"I'm happy to see you," he said, cutting you off. "I've missed you. Everyone did," his hands were in his pockets, and he was trying to stay calm even though his heart was loud in his ear.

"I missed everyone too. It was good to see your mom," you said, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. The room went silent. Tom didn't wanna push you, but he wanted to be with you and talk like before. Maybe he didn't think this through. The only noise was the music from the party. "I'm sorry," you said, taking a step forward, and Tom looked at you, waiting. You were nervous. "I'm sorry for pushing you away the way I did," your voice was heavy. "We were both sad and broken-hearted, and I was selfish. I only thought about the pain I was feeling. I'm sorry for ignoring your feelings," you said, and Tom felt his heart beating faster. He never thought about that night this way. He always thought about how much pain he caused you and how guilty he was feeling.

"I should've talked to you. I was so focused on the reasons why we couldn't be together," Tom said, taking a step in your direction. "I never thought about the reasons why we could," he confessed. These last three months he thought a lot about what he did wrong, and not talking to you sooner, giving you the chance to decide if you two could work, was his biggest mistake. "I was a coward. With you, with me, with that girl," his voice was trembling. "And I regret every day for what I did," he finished. You were looking at him, and your expression was unreadable. Even for him, that knew you for half of his life.

"I love you, and I," you started, but then you stopped. Your eyes blinking heavily. "I love you," you repeated after a few seconds, touching your lips with your fingers, looking away from him. It was like you could touch every word. "I...I love you!" you said like you just realized that. You had told him that before, but you were so hurt that you never let yourself feel that completely. Now, standing here, with nothing in your way, that was all you could feel. "I love you..." you smiled, looking at Tom that still had a lost look in his face. "I love you!" you said one last time like you were declaring your feelings for him.

Without giving you a chance to say it again, Tom walked the two steps that were keeping you apart, holding your face in his hands, and kissing you. It was urgent and frantic at first, but then you felt your heart slowing down and it was like the entire world was in slow motion. Your hand went to his waist, holding his sweater, while his fingers tangled in your hair, one of his hands holding your neck, deepening, even more, the kiss.

"I love you too," he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss. He smiled, looking into your eyes. "And I really think we should go on a date."

~

1 year and 7 months later...

"Lunch is ready," Sam called from the kitchen, and soon footsteps and a door closing were heard upstairs.

"Y/N! You're cheating!" Tom yelled.

"Stop whining. I just closed the door!" you yelled back, running down the stair.

"Racing again?" Sam asked, seeing you enter the kitchen breathless.

"He said he would clean the room if I won," you shrugged. You yelped, feeling Tom lifting you up by the waist. "NO! PUT ME DOWN!" you yelled. 

"You cheated!" he said, carrying you to the backyard and locking you out. He pointed and laughed at you through the glass door.

"I can't believe you are doing this. Let me in. I'm hungry!" you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

"If you wanna get in you'll have to do three things first," he said.

"They are being idiots again?" Harry asked entering the kitchen and seeing you two.

"What's going on?" Harrison asked, and Harry pointed to the glass door.

"Idiots," Anna said sitting on a chair around the dinner table.

"What three things?" you asked.

"First, you'll apologize for cheating," he said and you rolled your eyes. "Second, you'll help me clean the room. And third," he put his hand on his pocket, taking out a black velvet box. He opened the box, revealing a ring, and your eyes grew wider, noticing what was happening. "Marry me?" he said, and you covered your mouth in shock, just like everyone else behind him.

"Yes!" you said, feeling your eyes burning. "Yesyesyes!" you repeated, nodding frantically, while he opened the door, pulling you into a hug.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[candlelight27]

Chapter 5: This Moment Lost in Time

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: BLOOD, game spoilers and felony (don’t steal, kids)

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 5143

AO3: This Moment Lost in Time

A/N:  Thanks to @galamixx and their help!!! If you like this chapter, please consider commenting. My inbox is always open too, for suggestiong or just to chat! :)

You put a hesitant foot in Sylvain’s room, walking right behind him as he guided you. It was an ample space and it had a window that let the sunshine inside in the morning. The decoration was quite simple. The bed, placed under the window, was covered in white linen, and the walls were bare, without any pictures or posters. Its appearance broke your every expectation of what you had thought his room would be like.

You were surprised you couldn’t find anything that screamed ‘Sylvain lives here’, or any hint at all of his renowned affairs. You chastised yourself for thinking he’d have a box filled with panties he had stolen, or obscene magazines thrown around. He was now a close friend – perhaps something more, but your brain was trying to avoid that subject at the moment – so you’d have to stop assuming things about him. Especially regarding the high number of misconceptions you’ve had about him. Yet the truth was that you would have never suspected that he lived in such an austere manner. You began to understand how he got along with Dimitri so well.

Despite the absence of luxuries, there was something that caught your eye: the quantity of books he owned. His desk and shelves were crammed, and there were even a few piles over the floor. You identified in a glance some history titles, as well as fiction and philosophical essays. It was quite the collection for someone most people considered an airhead – a thought that made you slightly angry at those people.

“Sit wherever you want,” Sylvain commented. You sat on the bed, while he moved to take a seat on the chair in front of his desk. He carefully placed on the floor a board of chess, trying not to move any pieces. It was incomplete, with only a handful of blacks and whites. You wondered if Sylvain was trying to solve one of those problems that he used to do with Claude back in high school. Afterwards, Sylvain placed his hands behind his head and leant back. You looked around nervous, absentmindedly caressing the bed dressing with your fingertips, avoiding by all means ogling him.

“You have a nice room,” you said. This was awkward, and you didn’t know what to say. You felt once again you were invading his privacy by simply being there. And you were on his bed, where he slept. It felt very personal, and you were not sure if it was your place to be there.

“Not what you expected for someone like me, right?”, he hummed. You feared that he actually was able to read your mind after that line.

“How is Glenn?”, you changed the subject, hoping Sylvain wouldn’t notice.

“Oh, he’s fine! He’s conscious and recovering. Apparently, when he was going to work, a dog crossed the road and he crashed the car avoiding it.” Sylvain drew out a breath. “Honestly, I’m so relieved he’s alive.”

“That gives us time to proceed with our plan. But then again, Flayn is onto whatever is happening. It’s not just paranoia, there must be a clue somewhere,” you reflected.

You had a few days to come to terms with Sylvain’s crazy theories after that encounter with Flayn at the hospital. As if fate had been mocking you, you had even more visions of your classmates in times of war, which only reinforced Sylvain’s words. You started writing down the smallest details you could recall, hoping they’d be of help to clarify something. Anything. And you realised some names kept appearing time after time.

“I wanted to show you a few things,” Sylvain said. He turned around to look at the books opened on his desk. He moved a couple of volumes and used papers around until he chose one. The sound of papers being flipped frantically came from behind you. “Here it is!”

He stood up and gave it to you, waiting a minute for you to inspect it thoroughly.

“So?” He insisted. Sylvain was eager to know your opinion. “What do you think?”

“It’s…” you opened your mouth.

“Awfully familiar?”, he offered.

“Yes”, you nodded.

It was an ancient copy of Seiros’ precepts. There you could see a coloured engraving that displayed Saint Seiros, who had an eerie resemblance to Rhea, officially in charge of Garreg Mach High School and the cathedral annexed to it. Her light green hair, her bright and big eyes, her figure. Everything was exactly the same. She had a serene countenance, and she was surrounded by dragons. Once, you were taught that they represented the strength of Seiros and the four saints, but they had so many details, they looked real.

“And that’s not the only thing!” Sylvain added before you could finish examining it. He passed you another book. “This one is Linhardt’s, but he lent it to me indefinitely. He knows a lot about Saint Cethleann, he’s investigating her figure and plans to do a PhD.”

“What am I looking for?”, you asked, tracing the index with your finger.

“Look at the pictures first. There are a couple of engravings and drawings. Just look at any.”

You did as he told you. A chill ran down your spine. 

“This is Flayn,” you babbled, totally astonished. “But, like, it’s clearly Flayn.”

“Yes!” Sylvain was thrilled.

“They have the same face,” you repeated. You looked at the bottom of the page, where a footnote was written, and read it out loud. “‘Saint Cethleann was said to possess a kind heart and devoted her life to helping others in need. That’s why she developed an interest in medicine, and she is the patron saint of those who practice the art of healing. She healed countless wounded in her life, sparking the faith in those who met her.’ Is this real?” He nodded, an amused expression decorating his face. He seemed entertained by your reaction. “It looks like a set up.”

“It’s weird that all the pieces fit together as we go, right?”, Sylvain agreed.  

“If everything is so evident, why hasn’t anyone found out anything yet?”, you exclaimed exasperated.

“We’ve gone over that before,” he sat next to you on the bed. He crossed one of his legs and was careful not to touch you with any part of his body. After all, you were not the only one self-conscious about this meeting. He had been feeling vulnerable ever since he went all in with you – it was easy to recognise.

You wanted to tell him that it was okay to have physical contact and get close to you. And that you had similar feelings for him. But neither of you had said anything after his speech, and your conversations hadn’t got that way any other time. And now it seemed that you had lost your opportunity to give him an answer; it seemed forgotten and entombed.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone has bigger problems. Except us, apparently”, you said ironically.

“I have plenty of problems”, he said with fake seriousness.

“Oh?”, you mocked him. “I’ve never noticed.”

“One of them is no one takes me seriously”, he smirked. You felt a pang of guilt on your stomach and averted your gaze towards the book. It was shameful to admit, but you had done it several times in the past. You didn’t know he resented it.

“I wanted to try something,” Sylvain said out loud, demanding your attention. He looked flushed, but you dismissed the thought.

That’s when you remembered his cryptic messages earlier.

Sylvain (13:25): I might have come up with a thing that can be useful 😊.

Sylvain (13:25): Come home whenever you want, I’ll be here.

He hadn’t texted you as regularly as he did during the previous days, thus when his icon popped up on the screen of your phone, your heart fluttered in your chest. Should you go right away? Should you wait? There were things unsaid between you, but you had been dying to spend time with your favourite redhead. You convinced yourself that curiosity was playing a big part in your decision, and not your own emotions, so immediately answered affirmatively to his proposition.

“Yes, you mentioned that before.” You looked at him in the eye. He was blushing, you had no doubts now. And it seemed that he was out of character, because who would have thought Sylvain would be ashamed at all flirting? “What’s wrong?”

“You might not like my methods,” he shrugged.

“Sylvain!” you sighed, annoyed. “We’re way past your mysterious phase! Just tell me!”

“No need to get mad, darling,” he laughed. Then, Sylvain coughed and recomposed himself. “I thought that maybe we could trigger memories so we can investigate them. Find a common pattern.”

“Okay.”

“What was the last thing you dreamt?” He inquired carefully. Sylvain knew that some dreams were… Unfavorable.

“That horrible nightmare where I bury an axe in your chest”, you said. It made you want to cry, just the mere mention of it. Such a brutal act, why would it have happened?

“Ah, yes. That one”, he made a disgusted gesture. “You could’ve picked a nicer one.”

“How are we going to trigger the memories?”, you questioned him.

“By touching,” Sylvain answered. You raised your eyebrows. “W-Wait, not in that way!”, he stuttered while waving his arms around, as if to clear the atmosphere. Hewas trying his best to correct his accidental innuendo. “We can hold our hands, or just bump our shoulders together? We don’t have to, of course, but–”

“Sylvain, relax. I don’t mind”, you took his hand in yours to downplay the issue. That warmth that had become familiar spread throughout your skin. “Besides, it’s a good idea. It’s worked before.”

“But it’s not working now,” Sylvain complained.

“What did you think that was going to happen? Fireworks and a narrated episode of the battle of Garreg Mach?” You mocked, while he simply smirked.

The situation made your heart fly. The light outside was fading, dying the room of orange and gold. Everything surrounding you belonged to Sylvain, and you were on his bed, holding his hand in yours. It was special. A great fluttery feeling was forming in your stomach, one that made you light in the head and giggly. You shifted your body around awkwardly, without changing your position, and his grip tightened.

You noticed the muscles in his arm flexing, and his palm becoming sweaty.

“It’s not working…”, Sylvain lamented again.

“Close your eyes. Let’s focus on that memory together,” you instructed, half hoping it would work, half hoping it would prevent him from releasing your hand.

You let your eyes close. Every sensation became sharper. His touch, his presence, his smell. Everything had a distinct scent, the detergent of his clothes, his cologne, his books. - ‘Put yourself together!’ you scolded yourself and tried to envision your memory instead of focusing on Sylvain.

The large field of Gronder; the confusion of bodies, some dead, some alive; the  fresh blood; Sylvain’s horrid expression.

And, as if it was magic, it worked. You could vividly see it. The world surrounding you disappeared, and you were immersed in that moment lost in time.

The heat was suffocating, and so was the odour of burnt bodies and death. The podium where the archers had been trying to knock down the wyverns and pegasi had suddenly burned when the infantry had reached it. Many had died from all three parties: Dimitri’s, Edelgard’s and Claude’s. The flames were consuming everything on your left. Your arms stung out of tiredness, for you couldn’t even remember how long you had been there, fighting enemies.

Suddenly, you saw Sylvain. His horse was nowhere to be seen, and it saddened you. It was probably dead, too. A bad omen. You thought of the times he had insisted you rode with him, and the few times you accepted. Or when he stayed overtime to take care of the mount. You shook your head: he was now your enemy, and you had to kill him. Tears filled your eyes, and you voiced all the curses you could think of. How had everything turned into this? Where did it go wrong?

Sylvain was not aware that you were there. You traced his direction with your eyes. Was he escaping the fire? You hoped he was fleeing, but you knew him like the back of your hand. He had sworn loyalty to Dimitri and he wouldn’t leave him behind. Never. You looked far beyond.

When the realisation hit you, you started running.

He was heading towards Claude, who wasn’t riding his wyvern. Instead, he was supporting the infantry on the right flank with a sword and his bow. It was being effective in providing a much needed morale boost, but it wasn’t his brightest move. Damn him for not knowing how to keep himself safe.

Your gaze fell upon Byleth, who in this world had long hair, cuter clothes and was Jeralt’s daughter instead of his son. She had advanced more, leading the knights fighting the Adrestian forces, so she wasn’t going to save Claude, as she always did. Not this time, when she was risking her neck. You panicked, thinking about what disaster would happen if the heir to the Alliance, the only nation fighting actively against the Adrestian invasion, fell in battle.

You were almost there, axe in hand.

“Claude!”, you shouted. The Golden Deer leader realised Sylvain was about to stab him in the back, but dodged the hit just in time. Claude rolled on his side, while Sylvain’s lance got stuck in the ground.

You took advantage of this chance, arriving just a few seconds later, and with a swing of your weapon you broke the handle of his weapon in two. Moving with the momentum, your propelled the edge of the axe to Sylvain’s body. You contained your breath, wishing he would move away, that he’d escape. That you’d see him alive in the next battle, even if it meant going through another hell. Maybe you’d both survive, overcome your differences. But he didn’t move away. He stayed in place.

A lost arrow pierced your thigh. Even if you didn’t feel it at all thanks to the adrenaline pumping through your blood, it made you face reality.

Sylvain, disarmed, was on the other side of your weapon. You let go of the handle. It had cracked his armour, and his hot blood was flowing down. Sylvain fell to his knees, his face completely white.

“I’m sorry, Sylvain...” you said, as you fell backwards, unable to use your right leg due to the deep wound. He smiled but stayed completely still. Life was slowly escaping his body. You threw up on your side.

“Ignatz! Cover me!”, you heard Claude shouting. It seemed distant, while in reality he was too close. He was shouting your name, too, but your gaze was fixed on Sylvain. You couldn’t speak or move. Claude lifted you and placed you in his arms, carrying you somewhere safe. Sylvain was still alive, yet immobile. You couldn’t help thinking about him. Why was no one helping him? Is he going to die alone on the battlefield? Claude’s voice, assuring you that you were going to be alright, started to fade and his face was getting blurry…

 “Are you okay!?” Sylvain was shaking your shoulder. You were laid down on his bed and he was above you.

“Yes”, you answered, eyes open wide. You got up, and you returned to the position you had been in before on Sylvain’s bed. “What happened?”

“You’ve been gone for 5 minutes. As in, eyes opened, not responding to anything. I was about to call an ambulance.” Sylvain inspected you closely, quite worried. You could sense his breath on your skin.

“I’m fine”, you whispered, still a bit disoriented and dizzy.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Sylvain,” you called his name, his hand still on your shoulder. “What happened after you killed me? Did you see that?” Why did you want to know?

“Ah, yes. Ferdinand killed me afterwards”, he groaned. “He was avenging your death…”

“Typical of him. I’ll make sure to thank him, though. It was very thoughtful,” you joked. “What about Claude? And Dimitri?”

“They were dead too. Fallen in combat,” he said with an unsure voice. “Edelgard was the one reigning after that, or so I’ve thought. It makes sense.”

“I recall professor Byleth there, behind me. He was fighting side by side with Edelgard. They must have won.” You agreed with a gesture. “What about when we married? Was Byleth there?”

“Yes. Next to Dimitri. I think they got married too. That time, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus got the victory.” He crossed his arms, but his leg was touching yours. “What are you implying?”

“I killed you to protect Claude”, you started. The redhead knitted his brows.

“We already know that,” Sylvain commented, annoyed.

“Why are you so irritated?” You got confused why he was hasty upon mentioning Claude, until a certain thought crossed your mind. 

“No reason, just that the last thing I got to see was you in the arms of Claude.” He sighed. A smile found its way on your lips, an eyebrow raising.

“Are you jealous?” You teased him.

“Then, you got together with Claude after that. He commented something once about it,” Sylvain continued, ignoring your question. “Okay, keep going. What are you trying to say?”

“The war is between the three countries of the continent of Fódlan. And the respective leaders of each are, coincidentally, the leaders of each House at Garreg Mach – former monastery, currently a high school.” He nodded, prompting you to carry on. “When I killed you, Claude was the winner. The other countries fell and the Alliance took over. And Byleth was at his side. The same happened with Edelgard and Dimitri respectively, right? So that might indicate that Byleth is the deciding piece of the board. Depending on what side he-”, you remembered how Byleth had different appearances, “-He, she, or they pick, the events change and makes their side win the war and, ultimately, take control of Fódlan.”

“And how did that occur to you?”, he looked concerned. “It’s plausible. I’m not questioning you, but it’s quite twisted.”

“Because they are the only thing that actually changes in the war. Everything seems the same until Byleth arrives.”

“Well, you changed from Houses all the time,” Sylvain pointed out.

“Every time, to join Byleth’s class. Don’t you see it?” You tried to convince him.

“It seems logical to think that Byleth has something to do with it but we can’t be sure…”

“It’s a hunch, Sylvain,” you explained. “I’m sure we have to talk to Byleth. We will find something. This time, when I saw Byleth fighting, something clicked.”

Sylvain hugged you without a warning. He buried his head on the crook of your neck and enclosed you in his arms. Your hands rested against his chest, you trapped and unable to make a single move. The warmth surrounding you felt so warm, so comforting. Everything was going to be okay, Sylvain was there, and he won’t be gone this time.

“I’m scared that this will lead to a dead-end street. But… at last we’ve found a clue. I’ve been waiting for this forever…” He said with a strained tone. Sylvain’s voice was quiet. He didn’t want to let you go.

“It’s thanks to all your work, Sylvain. Everything you wrote was very useful…” You smiled, leaning into his embrace, almost melting. “You had noticed too Byleth was an important factor–”

“I’m just really happy you’re here with me. That you haven’t chosen Claude or Edelgard over me this time.” He chuckled, trying to shoo away the remainders of sadness. “Not gonna lie here, I’m extremely happy you didn’t choose Claude. That bastard.”

“Hey,” you reprimanded him. “Claude is nice. It’s not his fault we’re in this mess.”

“Well, he took you away from me once”, Sylvain said as he hugged you closer. “Have I told you that you married him?”

“What did you want me to do? You were dead!” You chuckled. It was weird to talk so lightly about it, but Sylvain became more comfortable the less relevant it felt. “This feels nice…”, you muttered, turning your face to kiss the top of his head. His red hair was soft, and it smelt of citrus. “So now we’re on hugging terms?”

“Yes”, Sylvain affirmed. “I might never let you go now that we crossed that line.”

“I wouldn’t mind…”

But a loud gasp resounded behind you. The tender moment that you wished would last forever was suddenly replaced with surprise.

“I’m so sorry Sylvain!” A voice shouted, someone that you identified as Dimitri. He closed the door with a slam.

Sylvain moved away, averting his eyes. His cheeks were blushing, and your own were warm too.

“I’m going to explain to Dimitri that we weren’t doing anything weird, okay?”, he scratched his head, again, and you recognised it as a gesture he made when he felt awkward. Little by little, you had been learning his non-verbal language. “I don’t want him traumatized for all his life.” You giggled.

“Does it make you nervous that Dimitri thinks we’re banging? He only saw us hugging,” You questioned daringly.

“Shut up”, he flashed his handsome smile. Flirting was an art he had mastered, and he felt confident with it. “And say that you’re staying for dinner, instead.”

“Not if you’re cooking instant noodles, Sylvain”, you narrowed your eyes. “That’s not a real dinner. You won’t trick me – I’ve seen all the packages in the cupboards.”

“First, we’re in college, and everything’s valid.” He stood up with a flourish. “Second, Dimitri had gone to the supermarket, so he’s the one cooking. It relaxes him.”

“Okay, he cooks real food. I’m staying then.”

“Perfect.” Sylvain winked, as he ran out of the room. His voice could be heard all over the apartment, and Dimitri was still stuttering. You smiled to yourself and took out your phone and opened the app to write an email.

[From: YOU - To: beisner@gmuniversity.fe]

Dear Professor Eisner,

I hope everything is fine.

Sylvain Jose Gautier and I are having a few questions regarding the bibliography of our project. We’d like to meet you next week to settle the matter and discuss some work.

Thank you very much.

“I’ve never skipped classes legally before”, commented Sylvain casually.

You two were navigating the corridors of the building where teachers had their offices. Everything was dull and generic, except for the occasional cabinets that displayed trophies and nameplates that students and professors had earned long ago.

“That’s why you were in detention all the time”, you reminded him.

“It was intentional. I wanted to strengthen my relationship with Seteth”, he said, laughing. You had to give in and laugh too, not only because he was actually funny, but because his humour was contagious. You couldn’t help but mirror it.

You eyed him from head to toe. Your companion was wearing a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt. He had a dark-grey, almost black blazer with rolled up sleeves on due to the chilliness in the air. His attire rang a bell.

“Why are you dressing like we did in the Monastery?” You wondered out loud to him.

“Because I’m pretty hot in black and white”, Sylvain chuckled in delight with a deep and sexy tone. He was right. You could outline with a glance his body, which was pretty well built. Of course, you did everything you could to deny it, so you put on your best deadpan face. “Okay, okay. I think it might make Byleth nervous.”

“Now that’s a joke,” you remarked. “Byleth barely showed any emotion during a war. Do you think it takes so little to irk him?”

“You might be right,” he conceded.

“Here!” You grabbed Sylvain’s sleeve, bringing him back after he walked past the correct door.

“The nameplate says Dr. Gloucester. Do you need your eyes checked?” Sylvain emphasized.

“Dr. Gloucester retired, and they gave his office to Byleth. He told us the first day! What were you doing?”

“Okay, okay,” he rolled his light brown eyes. “You knock.”

“What are you? Five?” You said while hitting the door with your knuckles.

“Come in,” Byleth’s voice came from the interior of the office.

You opened the door to see your professor encircled by lots of papers. No one can escape bureaucracy.

You stopped in the middle of the room. Right then, you felt an extraordinary sense of existence. As if all the years that had passed before your adventures with Sylvain were but a mere dream and your consciousness had come back to you a few weeks ago. You were sure that Byleth’s presence was having its own influence on you, now that you had regained a good number of your forgotten memories. There was a strange energy in the atmosphere.

Now that you considered it, this was just like that sweet time you spent at Garreg Mach Monastery. Wandering around to avoid boredom with Sylvain and finding much more than just entertainment, following Byleth around to ask all kinds of questions, spending the big seasonal events with your friends… That was what happiness looked like to you.

“You can take a seat,” Byleth said.

“Ah, yes, thank you.” You muttered. Sylvain was next to you in those uncomfortable iron chairs your university loved buying.

“What can I help you with?” He asked, ever so willing to help, yet enigmatic.

“Ah, we have a basic bibliography for the Crescent Moon War, but we’re lacking a few good articles in Loog’s biography”, Sylvain started, replaying the topics you had agreed on. “We don’t know if the authors are reliable.”

“I can take a look at those names”, Byleth smiled. “And I have a few books you could use.”

“That’d be great!”, you cheered with a fake façade. You had to admit, it was quite fun to play spies.

“They’re on that bookcase”, your professor pointed at the one right on your side. You stood up and started looking around.

“I had a question on Klaus I, that king of Faerghus, as well. What was the role he played in…”, Sylvain asked, so serious and well versed in the matter.

You disconnected from the conversation, turning to read the titles on the wall. You took a thick, blue book filled with dust, pretending it caught your interest. Then another black volume, with leather covers and golden letters. You kept investigating, about the Almyran invasion; the formation of the Academy of Garreg Mach, the base of your own high school; history of the Adrestian Empire… Nothing past the year 1000. It was quite suspicious.

You turned around, and Byleth was drawing a diagram for a focused Sylvain, who was all nods and questions. They couldn’t see you anymore, or at least it seemed so. Out of the corner of your eye, on the closest end of the professor’s large mahogany desk, you saw a bunch of letters. Discreetly, you looked up the sender. Curly letters with the address of Rhea were written there, right from the Cathedral.

You made sure Byleth’s vision was blocked by a stack of folders. With decision and a steady hand, you took the most recent one and hid it under your clothes. Desperate situations call for desperate measures, right? Besides, it wasn’t exactly stealing, and you had already made an excuse. ‘It got misplaced when I took the books you lent me, professor,’ you heard yourself say in your head. 

“Is there anything else you need?” Byleth said, when his discussion with Sylvain was done. He clearly intended for you to leave, as it was getting late.

“No, we were going away now,” Sylvain confirmed, walking towards the door. You followed him. Yet you grew bold.

“Can I ask just one more thing?” You said to the professor right before exiting.

“Of course.” The man with the dark blue hair.

“I can’t seem to find how the Crescent Moon War influenced the later war of 1180,” you stated.

Byleth remained silent for a moment. His jaw tensed. Your heart pounded. Did you catch him?

“That’s because there wasn’t any war that year,” Byleth responded. His demeanour was calm and serious as ever. Had he been practicing?

“Oh, really?” You tried to sound candid, feigning surprise. “I’m really bad with dates! That must be it!”

“You might have confused a couple of battles with a war. The battle took place around that year, but there wasn’t any declaration of war made” Byleth declared with a tense smile.

“Sorry for the trouble!” You exclaimed at last, urging Sylvain to go out with your elbow.

You closed the door behind you, and walked fast to distance yourself from any of the offices.

“What was that?” Sylvain was shocked.

“Wait until we get out of here,” You begged.

 Once you were on the common grounds of the student buildings, you stopped Sylvain. There was nobody around, as they were still in class. The ginger plopped himself on a bench.

“That was a good shot, but you were right”, he shrugged. “Byleth’s cold blood won’t make it easy. You were right, he’s special, I could feel a kind of connection… But we got nothing out of this…”

“I might have something”, you looked at him intently.

“On the books he gave you?”, he tilted his head. “Because I have revised all the library and –”

You took the opened letter out of your blouse. The silver details shone under the light.

“What the hell!”, Sylvain shouted. You shushed him, making desperate gestures with your arms to keep him from attracting any attention. You were paranoid, even though you were alone. Instead of any logical reaction, he had a fit of laughter.

“What?” You asked, irked.

“I thought you were physically incapable of anything remotely wrong in a moral sense!” He kept laughing, despite your attempts to quiet him down. “Why did you take it? Another hunch?”

“If you don’t get caught, you don’t get punished”, you said in a sarcastic tone.

“I knew it! You’re just as bad as me!” Sylvain was delighted.

“I might be,” You admitted because, well, he was right. Stealing the mail was a serious crime. But you took a small comfort in the pride and surprise Sylvain made you feel. You were no longer your dull, old self, that went on with the flow of events. No, you had a goal – multiple goals, in fact – and you were going to be an active participant in your life.

In that moment you wanted to kiss Sylvain again. But you had other priorities.

 “Are we going to read this or not?” You dared him.

“Don’t ask me twice.”

[darisu-chan]

whatever our souls are made of (his and mine are the same), pt. 15

Welcome back to yet another one-shot!

Hope you guys enjoy it!

You can also read it here.

See ya!

inkwell

Prompt: social media

Summary: Each photo they upload becomes a puzzle piece which tells a story. Their story.

Ichigo, Rukia realizes, is not a fan of social media.

 Not that she had known what that was beforehand.

 She hadn’t realized there were more uses for a cellphone besides calling, receiving texts, listening to music and maybe taking a few pictures.

 She had had a more pragmatic view of technology.

 And it is not until she overhears Inoue and Arizawa talking about the newest photograph the former had taken and posted to Instagram, that she takes an interest on all the other uses one can give to a phone.

 “Ichigo, what is Instagram?” She asks the following day.

 She had hardly been able to sleep as she thought about that mysterious Instagram thing.

 Ichigo blinks and puts away the manga he had been reading.

 It is obvious he hadn’t seen this question coming.

 “It is a cellphone app.” He vaguely explains.

 “I see.”

 (Spoiler alert: she hadn’t)

 “What is an app?”

 She asks again.

 Then he goes on a lengthy explanation about the many apps and their uses.

 Turns out, Instagram is just one of the many apps you can use.

 You can even watch movies on your phone!

 Who would’ve thought?

 And Rukia gets the gist of it.

 Well sorta.

 She just knows that you can use a phone for almost anything nowadays.

 But he hadn’t really answered what Instagram was, so she asks again.

 “It’s an app in which people post pictures, sometimes with messages, other times not.” Ichigo tells her.

 “So people use it to share their photos with other people?”

 That sounded simple enough.

 “That’s the idea. Though attractive people use it for attention.” He adds.

 “Is that why Inoue has an Instagram?” Rukia asks out loud.

 (That makes him crack up)

 “So, to sum up, it is essentially a virtual album?”

 “Yeah, I guess.”

 It then occurs to Rukia that if Ichigo knows so much about it, maybe he has one.

 So she questions him about it.

 As it turns out, Ichigo does have an Instagram account.

 But he rarely uses it.

 It’s private, to begin with.

 There are just a few people that Ichigo had accepted, including his sisters and his few high school friends.

 He also doesn’t follow a lot of people.

 Besides that, he has only posted two photos.

 The first one is a snap of the river bank as the sun sets.

 There’s no description below and it seems unasuming, but Rukia knows the significance of it once she looks at the date it was posted on.

 The second one is just a picture of two very thick books by English authors.

 Again, there is no description, but she guesses those are a few of his favorite books.

 Other than that, there’s not much on his Instagram.

 Keigo did tag him on a picture with their other friends at someone’s house about a year ago.

 And that’s pretty much it.

 Yet, despite Ichigo’s lack of enthusiasm, Rukia is intrigued.

 She uses his account to browse through Instagram and realizes that he’s right, many attractive people, from celebrities to ordinary teens, post pictures of themselves, some in very suggestive poses.

 Then, there are other people who just share many things.

 Their pets, the places they’ve visited, their significant others, their children and other family members, things they bought, their food, concerts, and so much more.

 Rukia likes that.

 It feels as if they were sharing an intimate glimpse into their lives.

 She feels like she wants to share that too.

 She expresses as much, and Ichigo ends up installing the app into her own human cellphone and tells her how to use it.

 First things first, she needs a handle name.

 Rukia decides that doesn’t want to use her own name.

 Ichigo had told her that she could use a pseudonym in social media.

 She likes the anonymity of it.

 So she chooses a very simple handle.

 It is @krchappy14 and instead of her name, she just writes her initials.

 K. R.

 She becomes just a random Instagram user.

 And her first post is a snap of a drawing she had made, of a single white bunny waving hello with the hashtags #new, #hello and #bunny.

 That is just the beginning.

 Before long, her Instagram is filled with pictures.

 Rukia takes photos of anything she likes and posts them on the app.

 ─ Of sunsets, scattered leaves, the river.

 A stray snail, the white bunny she saw at a pet store, a hummingbird.

 Rain drops on windows, clouds, rainbows.

 A picture of her boots as she stands over a puddle.

 The highest tree in Karakura Town. ─

 There is not a single description in any of them.

 But Rukia uses different emoji under them and hashtags relating to what they are and what she feels about them.

 Soon, she gains a small following.

 At first just Ichigo follows her, and then Yuzu and Karin.

 Ishida, Chad, Mizuiro and Keigo end up following her too.

 Then there are two accounts that seem too suspicious to be just random users.

 (@greenhats4laifu and @_real_black_cat)

 Yet there are other people ─ strangers ─ who follow her for the photographs she posts.

 They like their simplicity.

 How Rukia lets them speak for themselves.

 There are, of course, more intimate ones.

 Ones most people wouldn’t be able to guess their true meaning.

 ─ Two coffee mugs sitting side by side ─ one light blue with a white bunny on it, another black with red accents.

 Two videogame controllers.

 A horror manga next to a copy of Shakespeare’s selected works.

 Pictures of a rainy day with sad face emoji underneath.

 Board games on a table.

 A plate of curry.

 A festival.

 Fireworks.

 A rooftop overseeing the town.

 The silhouette of a young man reading. ─

 Her pictures are not only about things she likes.

 Each one tells a different story.

 And as time passes by, they multiply.

 Eventually Ichigo takes notice and asks her about it.

 “Why do you take so many pictures each time you visit?”

 “Because I don’t want to forget.”

 She simply admits.

 And suddenly she feels raw as Ichigo stares at her.

 “I… I never got to live as a human, so now that I get the chance, there are many things, many moments I just don’t want to ever forget.”

 For Rukia Instagram is more than just an app and photos.

 She uses it as her personal journal.

 But instead of words, it is filled with glimpses of life.

 Each photograph is a brief moment frozen in time that she wants to remember for the rest of her days.

 Everything she gets to experience, everything that she gets to be, is there.

 It is a testimony of her own existence.

 “I just figured that if there comes a time I can’t come here anymore, at least there’d be proof I was here, you know?”

 That I lived, she wants to say.

 Ichigo smiles softly at her.

 “I understand.”

 On her next visit, she is surprised to discover that Ichigo has been uploading more photos on his account.

 It’s not just a few.

 His account is still private, and the same people still follow him, but now there are more than just two lone pictures.

 ─ There’s a snap of his university.

 Pictures of Karin’s recent games.

 A photo of the Kurosakis all eating dinner together.

 A picture of Yuzu focused on her cooking.

 Birds flying through the window.

 A stack of new manga.

 Just a simple picture of his closet.

 A photo of the new CDs he bought.

 A snap of forget-me-nots. ─

 And Rukia soon realizes why he’s taking so many pictures.

 They are not for himself or for other people.

 They are for her.

 Each picture is about something she had missed while she was away.

 Events and anecdotes she gets to hear from her favorite people.

 And that now she gets to see.

 So she smiles at each them as she sees them.

 She treasures them deep in her heart.

 (Now she doesn’t have to miss anything)

 Eventually, their Instagram accounts get filled with photographs that you’d need to see together to get the full picture.

 Each photo becomes a puzzle piece which tells a story.

 Their story.

 ─ Movie tickets.

 Two pairs of ice skates.

 Starbucks orders.

 Pink dresses and leather jackets.

 Drawings and crayons.

 Books and college essays.

 A sunrise.

 Black bracelets.

 Silver rings.

 A field covered in flowers.

 Bunnies everywhere.

 A kitchen.

 Chocolate cake.

 Two pairs of legs covered in blankets.

 Sakura trees in full bloom.

 Dandelions. ─

 And one winter day, they post their best pictures.

 Rukia’s is a simple one.

 She hadn’t taken it, though.

 It had been Yuzu who had snapped it when they hadn’t been looking.

 It has a black and white filter.

 And in the picture, you can see the backs of a man and a woman wearing winter coats.

 They are surrounded by a snowy landscape.

 And the girl has her head on the guy’s shoulder as he holds her close.

 The caption is just a heart emoji.

 Ichigo, for his part, posts two pictures.

 His are more straightforward.

 The first is a snap of Rukia grinning as she throws snow in the air.

 In the second one, they are sitting next to each other.

 As Rukia smiles and blushes, Ichigo is seen pecking her cheek.

 The description simply reads,

 “I’m still not used to the cold, but since she loves snow so much, I gotta learn how to enjoy it too. It’s worth it, though. Just to see her smile.”

 Rukia gets a lot of comments saying she and her boyfriend look cute, even though you cannot see their faces.

 Ichigo, meanwhile, is bombarded by comments from his friends.

 He ignores them, though, as now he is more focused on the girl next to him.

 “Guess this means we’re now Instagram official, nee?”

 She jests as he rolls his eyes.

 “Rukia, please don’t ruin the moment.”

 “You know you love it.”

 “Damn right I do.”

[iwachans-beefyarms]

i know this is kinda really detailed and specific idea for a scenario so i hope that this is okay! it turns out tsuki is only really good at english because he kept his english penpal from primary school and they talk everyday and ft and she surprises him by turning up before the shiratorizawa match!! just some fluffy platonic feels please maybe she goes out with the team for dinner afterwards too? 💕💕💖

Omg, I really love this scenario! I’ve had my fair share of penpals so I was really excited to write this (: I remember having an Italian penpal 2 years ago and interacting with her inspired me to learn Italian on my own because she would often give me amazing Italian book recommendations hehe (I might have gone a bit overboard when writing about Tsukki training for the match lmao)

BTW for those interested, the quote from the beginning is from Donna Tartt’s ‘The Secret History’! It’s one of my favourite books of all time and it’s what made me start learning Latin, highly recommend it to all of you! Also, I love writing about platonic friendships soooo much so if any of you would like to request similar things in the future, please do!

Note*** Reader will be speaking to the team in Japanese, which will be indicated by bolded words

Okay, I’ll stop talking now, enjoy!

“I had said goodbye to her once before, but it took everything I had to say goodbye to her then, again, for the last time, like poor Orpheus turning for a last backwards glance at the ghost of his only love and in the same heartbeat losing her forever: hinc iliac lacrimae, hence those tears.”

Tsukishima sighed and put the book down. Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he leaned back and closed his eyes. It was a bittersweet feeling he often experienced when nearing the end of a compelling novel. This particular one, especially, had had him completely enamored. He almost felt wistful when he realised he was almost done with it.

He opened the book back up and carefully highlighted the phrase “Orpheus turning for a last backward glance”, making a mental note to look up the reference. It sounded like a literary allusion to a Greek myth of some sort, but he had to check to be sure. He glanced at his phone and opened his e-mail to type a quick message to you.

“I am almost done with this book… Honestly, what a ride! I can’t even bring myself to finish it because of how attached I am. I learnt so many new phrases and literary allusions too! I’m seriously considering reading all the pieces of work the author had referenced throughout the novel haha. But, it’s gonna have to wait until after my volleyball season ends because we have finals coming up soon… Anyway, talk to you later! BTW, how did you enjoy the poetry collection I sent you?”

He signed off as he usually did, packed his things up and left for after-school volleyball practice. He couldn’t help but feel that today was a particularly lovely day. When Yamaguchi approached him and draped his arm around his shoulder, he welcomed his friend’s affectionate gesture with a genuine smile of his own.

“Wow, that’s a big smile! Did something good happen?” Yamaguchi questioned curiously. He glanced down at Tsukkishima’s hands and noticed the book he was holding.

“Ah! Y/n’s book huh? Is it any good?” He asked, excitedly grabbing it from his friend and flipping through the pages. His eager expression morphed into one of complete confusion as he squinted his eyes at the flurry of words before him. “How do you even read this? It’s so hard…” He blurted out.

“Tsk, you just don’t have enough practice, dumbass,” Tsukkishima retorted jokingly. It was true, though, what he said. His regular emails to and from you since his primary school days had greatly improved his English linguistic skills. Even more so, it had made him more knowledgeable in the art of writing and analysis. Everytime he got a comment on his essays about his exceptional way with words, he would silently thank your influence in his head. It was quite ironic that Tsukishima, someone who found it immensely difficult to forge meaningful relationships with those around him, would have shared such a close friendship with a girl living on the other side of the world, but such was life.

As the highly anticipated match against Shiratorizawa loomed closer, Tsukishima’s mind drifted from you and the book he had yet to finish. His heart, soul and entire being was devoted to his team. While he greatly appreciated the daily messages of encouragement you graced him with every morning, he simply did not have the time to respond properly. For now, all that mattered was volleyball.

He trained everyday, much like his teammates. Where once he would have scoffed at the level of fervor he demonstrated in his journey towards becoming the best player he could be, he now relished in the passion that flooded him everytime he held the ball between his hands, or when he jumped in tandem with his teammates to form a block. He would be prepared for Shiratorizawa, for Ushijima Wakatoshi, and for whatever force that dared to reckon with him.

That was what he told himself before the match, repeating it in his heart like a mantra, with the hopes that the belief would materialise in the court. And, that was exactly what his teammates and he did. They won. They actually won. Tsukishima never viewed himself as a sadistic person, but dear God, the look of defeat in the faces of his opponents sent him to a high he had never experienced before. It wasn’t that he was glad they lost; they were decently nice people. It was that they had won; a game that, by all expectations, should have been lost. He was euphoric. In that moment, amidst the chaos surrounding him and the cheers resounding through the stadium, he felt an immense wave of love rush over him. Love for his sport, his opponents, and most importantly, his team; his family outside of his family.

After the match, as the team made their way out of the locker rooms, he let himself bask in the triumph of their victory as his friends cheered boisterously. Suddenly, he caught the eyes of a very familiar face approaching him with a slight jog. His eyes widened. Impossible.

“Tsukki!” You wrapped your arms around his neck. He didn’t hesitate to engulf you in a hug of equal intensity. It was either the excitement of winning, or the shock from seeing you in front of him that made him so easily reciprocate your affection, but at that moment he didn’t care.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, incredulously, ignoring the gawking stares of his team. “My parents wanted to go to Japan for the holidays, and of course I had to come see you at your big match! You were amazing! I mean, Amazing, with a capital A!” you rambled off excitedly. Tsukishima almost let you continue your enthusiastic rant but he was interrupted by Daichi’s hesitant tap to his back. He cleared his throat and announced, “Everyone, this is Y/n, my good friend from Y/c.”

“Hello everyone! It is so wonderful to meet all of you! Tsukki has said so much about you that I feel like I know all of you already,” you addressed them, bowing slightly. Your nervous blush made Tsukki smile softly to himself. Immediately, you were attacked with questions.

“How does Tsukishima know such a pretty girl?”

“Where are you from? Are you here on holiday? How do you know Japanese?”

“Do you play volleyball?”

You did your absolute best to answer all their questions, and in the process, gave the team a brief summary of your friendship with Tsukishima. Yamaguchi, in particular, was wonderfully excited to make your acquaintance. Eventually, the boys and their managers invited you to have dinner with them. You graciously took their offer and left the stadium with them.

The evening was filled with laughter and jubilation. Everybody was still riding the high from their win, and spent dinner reminiscing moments during the match, and of course, talking about Tsukishima and his pretty friend. Stories about his childhood self, his emo-phase and, for a brief tw months, k-pop phase, were shared by Yamaguchi and yourself. Usually, Tsukishima would have been incredibly annoyed at being the object of a joke, but tonight, he settled for a half-hearted shove to Yamaguchi’s shoulder and a teasing comment. “At least I pulled it off… Not like your cosplay phase, remember?” Cue another round of hearty laughter.

As he watched you and his team bond, he sat back and gently rubbed his chest. His heart felt so full at the moment, and although he knew it wouldn’t last, he cherished the feeling and took a mental picture of the scene in front of him. He leaned towards your ear and whispered, “Thank you so much for coming, it meant a lot.” You squeeze his arm gently and replied, “That’s what friends are for, Tsukki!”

[shijas]

Tell me about the heist au for the wip ask game if you like!!

heyyy! i answered it initially here, but i’m always up for more useless rambling, so here’s a pseudo-essay about how i came about with an almost stupidly over detailed heist au from a pirate shounen that’s been running for over two decades:

1. one piece: gold (embellished filler)

one piece movies tend to be more fight-filler than anything else but the glitz and glam of the gold opening really sold me a dream of a real heist movie with the strawhats who, after over 900 at that point chapters of reading, i had come to adore. and we did get heist elements which were really fun! but, the majority of the movie devolved to tragic backstories ™️ and luffy boss fights/strawhat minor fights, which was expected but still pretty disappointing on the heist front!

2. the one piece (ultimate macguffin)

i think one of one piece’s ultimate allures, is the titular item itself - a priceless unfounded treasure, left to us by the king of pirates himself. i don’t think i’ve ever read a manga or any fiction where the macguffin is so stupidly hyped or so painstakingly allows for a slow burn world! i got really excited about how the one piece (which for spoiler reasons i will not explain) and the age of piracy could work in a more modern take of the admittedly strangely advanced world.

3. a real world commentary (surprise, it’s not just a comedy action shounen)

a lot of shounen, i believe anyway, try to varying degrees of success pose interesting questions about human nature and the things that spawn from humanity’s flaws and successes. one piece of course, is not immune to this and has really interesting things to say about institutionalised power, good and evil, guilt/shame/blame, punishment and freedom, crime and lawfulness.

the idea of this macguffin for all intents and purposes being enough to trigger a great race to the seas although plausible at first look, allow a sense of comfort that is quickly broken when the story begins to delve into the nature of the society built.

by the time i had a clearer image of what the story was trying to say and how much of it i agreed with, it kind of hit me how blatantly these elements could be superimposed onto the modern day!

4. you aren’t really a good person, but god damn, you make bad look awesome. (no one could steer me right, but mama tried.) - a heist au

the one piece can remain the macguffin, an ultimate goal that on the surface level, everyone is vying for at the behest of the authority power. conveniently, the world government is exactly that a world government and so they could be the same too.

so what are pirates? easy answer: criminals! the funnest type in fact because they in real life and the original op universe they tend to fall under social criminals. so let’s keep pirates as criminals, and instead let’s make them commit the closes we have to social crimes we have in the modern day: stealing from the rich, distributing to the poor (or there about).

if the crime is theft, and the one piece is the ultimate macguffin than the only way to get it must be a heist right?

5. a love letter to whole cake island (the stupidest place to start a story)

who cake island, is one of my favourite arcs for reasons [redacted] due to spoiler content, but it also gave me a starting poirnt for what may be the silliest, most brain twisting logic fic ive ever dreamed up. so many features and messages of op can be stolen just from those 100 chapters and i thought well, what a fitting place to start a heist story right? with the crew getting together and defeating one big bad before getting information to defeat the next and inevitably come closer to their goal.

and that’s it, that’s my whole thought process and ramblings about what is well and truly a amusing parody of some amazing story arcs and world commentaries. just some criminal found family fun, but with high speed car chases, elaborate disguises and physics breaking acrobatics (i guess the main series has some of this too), instead of devil fruits and the harnessing of ones spirit (normal shounen stuff). also, fuck gold.

thanks for asking this is the most fun i’ve had all day!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you enjoy the tiny snippet in the other post too :D

[jawnkeets]

How are you so clever??? I’m new to your blog and I’ve been looking at your posts (not in a stalkery way but because they’re so cool) and you seem super intelligent! Like you always reference things I’ve never heard of and use fancy words and it’s just really awesome. How did you get so clever? Do you read a lot or are you just naturally clever? If it’s from reading then what books would you recommend to someone who’s interested in literature and also broadening their general knowledge? Thanks

awwww. well thanks for the lovely ask!! this is way too much detail bc i’m procrastinating work but

i read a ton as a kid, mostly horror books - i was obsessed with the supernatural, and especially vampires, and the idea of things changing into other things (in a magical way, but also stories where characters develop and end up very different, tales of betrayal etc). my favourite series when i was little was the spiderwick chronicles, followed a little later by the saga of darren shan. i didn’t read any classic literature at all though, as i’d decided i hated it for some reason. as a kid i always prided myself on my creativity/ imagination rather than my intelligence (it’s a distinction i’d always drawn and still do after a fashion), but i was and have always been obsessive, and also used to sit and play memory games for hours, too; i remember one where i’d have a list of cards and i’d put one down, say what it was, turn it over, add another one, say what the previous one and this one was, turn them over, and continue until i couldn’t remember every single card in order, and then i’d start again. i wrote a lot, especially poetry, and used a thesaurus often because i loved words. i had a very very vivid imagination and refused to live in the real world until the age of about 11 or 12. then from 14 onwards i read almost nothing (apart from like idk two of the hunger games books) until i was 17, when i finally started reading classic literature, triggered by the great gatsby, which changed my attitude to learning completely. until then i’d despised secondary school partly because of the way learning was presented (i got good grades at gcse but went through the syllabus and exams mechanically with little genuine love) and partly for… other reasons, and had almost given up on taking academics seriously. but i got very lucky and had an incredible english teacher throughout sixth form, who encouraged me to take risks and break from methodical, formulaic writing. at the end of the first essay i had to do for him i still remember that he wrote ‘literature is for you. now and always. carry on.’ at the bottom, and that changed my life. he also introduced me to philip larkin and romantic poetry outside of class. after that, i was gripped by the desire to read and discover as much about the humanities as i could, make links between works, discover new ones, recover the feeling that i was possessed by after finishing gatsby. tumblr genuinely helped with art, literature quotes, and making it all seem accessible, e.g. seeing text posts making jokes about shakespeare, keats, etc helped to demystify a bit. yes, dark academia, i’m also looking at you for making learning seem exciting, but tentatively and with narrowed eyes. general knowledge-wise, it helped me to begin to break down the barriers between ‘subjects’ at school (even if you’ve left school, it’s pretty branded into our brains); they’re sometimes very fuzzy and even arbitrary, and to separate into strictly-defined categories like this is not the only way learning can or should happen.

a work that i thoroughly recommend to everyone who asks where to start is letters to a young poet by rainer maria rilke. he relates so perfectly this idea that the first step is to let yourself be filled with how amazing and vast the world is, and how much there is to read, listen to, and see. that’s not something you can learn from reading, and it’s not something you can be taught by anyone (unless being inspired by someone counts). it’s instrumentally important because it will drive you, but i also think it’s inseparable from understanding (and to me, it is understanding, just understanding without the right words yet). this is the highlight, and it was the mantra stuck up on my wall at 17 when i decided i wanted to learn, and learn seriously:

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

i was relatively articulate before i started reading the classics/ reading widely, but not exceptionally articulate. here’s an example of two essay openings - one i wrote when i was 16, and one i wrote during my first term at university (2 years apart):

i’d say that since then my essays have probably improved by a similar proportion, as i’m as embarrassed to read the second as i was the first when i wrote the second, and the typos r annoying me (am too embarrassed to post recent writing :’( - doesn’t count if over a year and a half ago, hence posting the second :p). obviously, then, this isn’t natural intelligence (everyone has to get knowledge, big words, etc from somewhere, right?), this is natural receptivity and willingness to learn, which i genuinely believe anyone can gain at any point, coupled with A LOT of reading the opinions of others (i.e. literary criticism and theory), and reading literature from many different periods to discover how language is moulded by individual poets and by ‘eras’ more widely. but this is also synthesising everything i absorb into a personal vision (this is the hill i will die on soz i don’t think theory should be ‘objective’ like what does that even mean). you can and should put yourself into it!

in terms of what to read - if you like the rilke (really hope you do!!) then depending on what you like about it, you can search from there. try some of rilke’s poetry. or if you like that ineffable feeling it brings, try the romantics (keats’ ‘ode to a nightingale’ and blake’s songs of innocence and experience are good to start with!), or larkin’s ‘high windows’ and ‘the mower’. also try shakespeare’s hamlet, because that is INCREDIBLE (watching it is always easier, and the more shakespeare you watch/ read the easier it gets! andrew scott’s hamlet is the best imo). from there it’s a question of asking what you liked about what you just read (time period/ vibe/ themes/ subject/ style of writing) and finding things similar - often google works and i made use of it a lot to start with, tumblr too, otherwise ask people who you know (on the internet/ teachers/ friends etc). this is a personal journey, especially to begin with, i think (you have to jump in somewhere), and there’s no one who can give you a list of books to read in the order best for you, because - annoyingly, i know - that’s something it’s best if each individual works out through trial and error, and part of the fun in truth. there are western canon lists out there, e.g., which contain some fabulous works, but have very obvious problems. 

a really really rough chronological development of english lit: beowulf, any of the canterbury tales, hamlet, paradise lost, pope’s satire, romantic poetry, victorian novels (e.g. david copperfield, jane eyre), the waste land, waiting for godot (it would also help to read the iliad, the aeneid, and metamorphoses too, and as much of the bible as you can, especially genesis, exodus, isaiah, job, and the gospels, but genesis and the gospels first if ur stuck/ overwhelmed). this is the lightest of pencil sketches, but if they’re works that go some way towards defining each ‘era’ or ‘period’, then it becomes a little easier to search for works branching off from these that are influenced by or chafe against them. you can always come back to me if you’re struggling with what to look for next :+) also, i have a list of my poetry favs, if you want to check that out (it includes the stuff mentioned in the previous paragraph, as well as others).

hope this helps (?!) ❤️

[calumcest]

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - chapter two

[ao3]

yes i finished my essay and was like writing another 6k of fic vs doing all the other work thats due within the next 10 days...Hmm...so here we are

A week passes, and Luke almost succeeds in putting Ashton to the back of his mind. 

He’s preoccupied with other things - the fact that he’s suddenly got three times as much work to do, because Chris has taken a week off to reunite with his soulmate; the fact that his boiler’s broken, and nobody’s around to come and fix it because everyone’s taking a break to try and find their soulmate; the fact that he’s having to stay at Calum’s, because his apartment is doing a great impression of a fridge right now, and that means listening to Michael and Calum’s hushed conversations about him when they think he’s asleep. They’re clearly worried about him, which is kind of sweet, but also makes Luke feel a little pathetic, throwing him back to the days after Ashton left where Michael and Calum would tiptoe around him, frowning at him but saying nothing, as though any words would be the wrong ones. 

Luke goes home from time to time to pick up post and new clothes, and on Sunday, he notices a note has been stuck through his letterbox. It’s stuck to the soggy newspaper that’s been forced through, so the ink’s run and Luke can’t read it anymore. He shrugs and chucks it out with the newspaper, thinking that if it were someone he knew they would have texted him, so it was probably some kind of advertising.

The only topic of conversation in society now is the soulmate tattoos. More and more research is being done, families are being torn apart, brought together, and churches are booked for weddings for the next eighteen months straight. Luke had finally brought himself to ask his parents what their situation was, and they’d smiled, and that was all he’d needed to know. 

Luke had thought it would take him a while to wrap his head around the idea of soulmates, but somehow, it hadn’t. Somehow, seeing the people he knows interact - seeing Michael and Calum interact - it seems like it’s the only logical answer, like there was never anything else they could have been. It sits uncomfortably in Luke’s stomach, because he knows it’s not like that for him and Ashton. Something went wrong with Luke’s tattoo - it wasn’t supposed to be Ashton, he’s sure of that. Or if it was, then maybe it was a sign from the universe that Luke should take a vow of celibacy.

Luke shrugs when he’s asked at work if he knows who his soulmate is. It’s not like he’s lying - he knows who his soulmate was, two years ago, but Ashton’s a stranger to him now. The thought makes Luke feel a little better, if only because it means Luke’s a stranger to Ashton too. Ashton no longer knows him, no longer has power over him, no longer has a grip on Luke’s lungs and heart and mind. 

It’s not until Wednesday evening that Ashton forces himself back to the forefront of Luke’s mind yet again. 

He’s sat on Calum’s sofa, destroying him at MarioKart, when his phone starts buzzing. At first, he ignores it, because getting this win is definitely more important than whatever bullshit Michael’s texting him (last time he paused a game to read a text from Michael it had just been a picture of an orange captioned ‘juicy’), but the buzzing continues, distracting him and making him slip on a banana Calum had thrown in front of him. 

“Fuck’s sake!” Luke yells, when Calum whoops joyfully as he makes it over the finish line a microsecond before Luke. “Fuck you. That wasn’t my fault.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Calum says, turning to him with a smug grin. “What, someone take control of your hands? You got that rat from Ratatouille up in those curls?”

“Remy,” Luke says, without thinking. 

“Huh?”

“The rat,” Luke says. 

“I can’t believe you know that,” Calum says, sounding very much like he can believe Luke knows that. 

“Fuck you,” Luke says again, scowling. “I bet you fucking told Michael to text me just so you could finally win a game.” 

“Michael’s napping, dude,” Calum says, looking somewhat amused. Luke frowns. Nobody texts him except Calum and Michael, and Calum’s right here. So if Michael’s asleep- 

His stomach drops. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he says, fishing his phone out of his pocket and watching the screen light up with the one name he doesn’t want to see. 

Ashton Irwin I’m outside

Ashton Irwin There’s no way you can’t hear this doorbell 

Ashton Irwin Have you moved? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Luke says, and shoves his phone at Calum. Calum’s eyes widen as he reads, and he huffs out a laugh of disbelief. 

“What the fuck?” he says, sounding as incredulous as Luke feels. “He’s just fucking turned up at your apartment?” Luke nods, suddenly incredibly glad that his boiler’s broken. Ashton just fucking turning up at his place makes his skin crawl, makes him feel incredibly unsafe. 

“How many different ways do I need to tell him to fuck off before he gets the message?” Luke says, and there’s an edge of desperation to his tone that even he can hear. Calum’s expression softens slightly. 

“You can just block him,” he suggests. 

“Well, he’ll just turn up at my fucking apartment again, then, won’t he?” Luke says. 

“You can stay here until it blows over,” Calum offers. Luke loves him. 

“Thanks, Cal,” he says, and he means it with every fibre of his being. “I just- I just want him to go away.” He hopes Calum understands what he means - not just go away from his apartment, but leave Luke’s life again, because it had taken so much of Luke to get over him and rewrite himself after Ashton had broken almost all of him, and every interaction with him is a sickening reminder of how things used to be, who he used to be. He can’t fucking stand it. 

“Want me to talk to him?” Calum says. Luke hesitates, then shakes his head. 

“I don’t want him to think I can’t handle it,” he says. I don’t want him to think he broke me remains unspoken, but hangs between them uncomfortably. 

“Okay,” Calum says, because he understands. He always understands. “Want me to help you draft a reply, then?” Luke nods. 

“Can you call Mikey, too?” he says, and it comes out a little unsure, a little small. Calum’s face softens into a smile. 

“‘Course,” he says, reaching for his phone and unplugging it from where it’s been charging to call Michael. 

Michael picks up after two rings, because it’s Calum, and Luke can see the outline of him in the dark, lying in bed. 

“Hey, love,” Calum says softly, and Luke is suddenly jerked into discomfort, like he’s intruding on a private moment. Calum and Michael haven’t said anything to Luke about their newfound soulmate status, and Luke hasn’t asked, all of them dancing around the topic like talking about it is going to irrevocably change their group dynamic somehow. Luke’s never heard Calum call anyone love, and the names he’s got for Michael are usually more along the lines of dickhead, arsehole, fucker, and it makes Luke realise just how left out he is now, all because of two fucking tattoos. He has to swallow back the jealousy rising in his throat, press down the spike of anger flaring in his stomach. 

“This better be fucking good,” Michael mumbles, muffled by his duvet. 

“Ashton’s outside Luke’s house,” Calum says, and there’s a sudden sound of rustling, and then the light is turned on, Michael squinting and looking somewhere between furious and concerned. 

“That bastard,” he says, which seems to be a bit of a mantra where Ashton’s concerned. “What the fuck? Has Luke called the police?” 

“No,” Luke puts in, although now that Michael mentions it, he thinks he probably should. “He might be gone by now, anyway.” 

“Oh, I forgot you were at Calum’s,” Michael says, even though he’s been complaining about it for, like, four days straight.

“We’re going to draft a response,” Calum tells Michael, who nods. 

“I’ve got one,” he says. “‘Fuck off, you fucking bastard, and also, I’m calling the police on you. Arsehole. Fuck you.’” Calum rolls his eyes, and Luke laughs, letting the warmth of it flood his veins. It helps to know he’s not alone, both in his anger at Ashton and in dealing with the situation. 

“I already told him not to contact me anymore,” he says.

“And he somehow thinks that turning up at your house doesn’t count as contact?” Michael says, in disbelief. 

“Well, either way, he texted you,” Calum points out. 

“So he just doesn’t give a shit,” Michael says. “Right. Got it.” 

“What should I say?” Luke says, with an only-slightly-melodramatic sigh. 

“Tell him to fuck off,” Michael says. 

“Politely,” Calum adds. 

“How do I do that?” Luke says, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Kindly fuck off? Please fuck off?” 

“Keep it business,” Calum suggests. “Keep him at arm’s length, don’t let it get emotional. Talk to him like you’d talk to a client that’s pissing you off.” 

“As per my last communication,” Michael says sarcastically, and Calum and Luke both laugh. 

“I think you’re right,” Luke says. “Keep emotion out of it.” 

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “Don’t let him think you still care.”

“I don’t.” 

“Yeah, but you know what Ashton’s like,” Michael says. “You could come at him with an axe and he’d interpret it as ‘Luke cares about my existence’.” Luke snorts, feeling a little spiteful and not regretting it at all. 

“How about ‘I don’t feel comfortable with you turning up at my house unannounced’?” Calum says. 

“And ‘I’ve already told you I’m not interested in speaking to you, please stop contacting me’?” Michael adds. Luke nods, typing it out. 

Me I don’t feel comfortable with you turning up at my house unannounced. I’ve already told you I’m not interested in speaking to you, please stop contacting me. 

He reads it out again, and both Michael and Calum nod. 

“Add a ‘you bastard’ at the end,” Michael suggests, and Luke rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, a wave of love and appreciation for Michael and Calum suddenly washing over him. 

He would never have made it through Ashton without them, and he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle Ashton 2.0 without them either. They’re always there, never questioning, never judging, fiercely supportive, and Luke doesn’t know what he did to deserve two such unwaveringly loyal best friends. 

“Thanks, guys,” Luke says, as he presses send, immediately locking his phone and trying to push down the anxiety that bubbles in his stomach as soon as he sees the words turn blue. “For everything.”

“Of course,” Michael says gently. 

“Always, Luke,” Calum says sincerely. 

Luke thinks that just maybe, with Michael and Calum at his side, he can get through this. 

 -------

 It turns out Ashton and Luke have wildly differing definitions of please stop contacting me. Luke thinks it means ‘don’t speak to me anymore’, and Ashton thinks it means ‘wait a day before trying again’. 

Luke’s on his lunch break when his phone buzzes. Knowing better than to just assume it’s Michael or Calum now, he fishes it out of his pocket with trepidation. It’s Ashton, his name white against the black of the screen with the green swipe to answer button staring back at Luke. 

If he doesn’t answer, Ashton will just try again. If he answers and shouts at Ashton to fuck off, Ashton will know that Luke’s not capable of being cordial with him, that Ashton had hurt him so much that it still stings two years later. So, sighing, Luke swipes on the answer button, and lifts the phone to his ear with a resigned, and slightly pissed off, “What?”

“Hi,” Ashton says, and it still makes Luke feel a little sick. There’s something jarring about hearing the same voice that used to call him baby, sweetheart, gorgeous, now miles away on the other end of a staticky phone line, strange and unknown. 

“I told you not to contact me anymore,” Luke says, and it comes out a little weary. 

“I know,” Ashton says, and he has the grace to sound guilty. 

“Right. So you’re just choosing to ignore that?” 

“No, I-” Ashton cuts himself off, and there’s a moment of silence before he takes a deep breath. “I really think we should talk.” 

“I’ve told you,” Luke says, for what must be the thirtieth time, “I don’t want to talk. I have nothing to say to you.” 

“I do, though,” Ashton says. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Then why did you pick up?” 

“Because you’d just fucking turn up at my house again, or something,” Luke says. “Which, by the way, is really fucking creepy. Like, it made me feel really unsafe. Michael wanted me to call the police.”  

“I know,” Ashton says, and he actually sounds sincere. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Luke does a double take. Ashton, apologising? 

“Right,” Luke says, a little nonplussed, because he was expecting a justification, an excuse, not an apology. That’s not really Ashton’s style. “Well. Don’t do it again. I won’t hesitate to get a restraining order.” 

“Okay,” Ashton says, and then, without missing a beat: “Can I take you out for dinner?” Luke’s mouth falls open. 

“Are you fucking insane?” Luke says, too incredulous to be angry. “How many different ways do I have to say ‘I want nothing to do with you’ until you get the message?” 

“We really should talk about what this means,” Ashton presses. “Like. We’re soulmates, now.” The words twist deep in Luke’s gut, and he swallows back the queasy feeling rising in his throat. 

“What if we always were?” he bites out, and he can’t help the bitterness that drips out with the words. They’re met with an uncomfortable silence, and Luke feels a stab of spiteful glee. 

“I want to talk about it,” Ashton says finally, which doesn’t answer Luke’s question. “Please. Just one dinner. And then I promise I’ll leave you alone.” 

Luke tips his head back against the wall, letting his eyes flutter shut. 

On the one hand, he wants Ashton to fuck off and leave him alone, indefinitely. He wants to go back to forgetting Ashton, to living a life without him and to uncomfortable first dates and fumbling hookups. He wants to pretend his tattoo doesn’t exist, to be able to choose who he loves rather than be assigned someone to love, someone he already tried to love and worked hard to stop loving. 

On the other hand, he knows that Ashton won’t leave him alone until he gives him what he wants. Sure, he might relent for a few months, but Luke will always have that knot of anxiety in his stomach every time he gets a text, every time the doorbell rings, and one dinner might be worth giving himself peace of mind. 

“I’ll think about it,” Luke says eventually. “But just for the record, the fact I have to do what you want before you respect my wishes is doing you absolutely no favours.” 

“I know,” Ashton says heavily, like he’s fucking sad about it, or something. Luke doesn’t think Ashton has it in him to consider Luke’s feelings. “Thank you.” 

“I didn’t say yes.” 

“I know,” Ashton says again. Luke grits his teeth and bites back the fuck you that’s on the tip of his tongue, chanting Calum’s words to himself: keep him at arm’s length, don’t let it get emotional. I’ll think about it isn’t a yes, whatever Ashton wants to tell himself. 

“Fine,” Luke says, after he’s taken a moment to collect himself, cool, calm, professional. “I’ll get back to you when I’ve had time to think. Don’t contact me in the meantime.” 

“Okay,” Ashton says. 

“Good,” Luke says, and hangs up before Ashton has a chance to respond. 

Jesus fucking Christ, he thinks, exhaling heavily and staring at the grey clouds gathering above him and throwing a silent curse out at the universe, just in case it can suddenly read thoughts, for saddling him with this fucking situation. Ashton Irwin might very well be the death of him, for a second time. 

 ------- 

 Luke completely forgets that he’d told Ashton he’d consider going to dinner with him until Calum tentatively brings him up the following Tuesday. 

“Did Ashton ever say anything to your message?” he asks, scratching behind Duke’s ears, and Luke blinks at him. 

“Did I not tell you?” he says, surprised. He’s not sure how the entire conversation with Ashton slipped his mind for almost an entire week, but he supposes that’s what happens when he doesn’t care about someone. 

“No?” Calum says, equally surprised, as though he hadn’t expected Luke to have heard anything. Luke fucking wishes. 

“He rang me the next day,” Luke says, and Calum frowns, hand stilling on Duke’s back. Duke turns and gives Calum a reproachful look, and Calum starts petting him again absent-mindedly. “Asked me to meet him for dinner.” Calum gapes at him. 

“Are you serious?” he says, in disbelief. 

“I know,” Luke agrees. 

“Jesus,” Calum says, sounding almost in awe of Ashton’s shamelessness. “Was he this delusional when you were together?” Luke laughs, and shrugs. “What’d he say when you said no?” Luke hesitates, biting his lip. 

“I told him I’d think about it,” Luke says after a moment, and Calum’s eyes widen. 

“Luke,” he says, and it’s careful, worried, and Luke hates it. 

“Look, I know,” he says, before Calum can say something like Ashton nearly killed you last time, are you sure this is a good idea? “I know, Cal, okay? I just- I need him to leave me alone.” Calum frowns again. 

“What, and he’s trying to force your hand by making him leaving you alone conditional on you going out to dinner with him?” he says. Luke nods. “What a cunt.” 

“I know,” Luke says. “I think he’d leave me alone if I said no, but I think I’d be jumping every time I got a text. I’d rather just have one dinner with him and know that’s it.” Calum’s frown doesn’t leave his face, but he nods slowly. 

“Okay,” he says. “If it’s for your own peace of mind.” 

“It is,” Luke says, exhaling heavily and slumping back on Calum’s sofa. 

“So you’re going?” 

“I don’t know,” Luke says. “I haven’t thought about it.” 

“You don’t have to,” Calum says, and it’s gentle, supportive. “We can go to the police, say he’s harassing you. We can get a restraining order.” 

“I don’t want to go through that,” Luke says, carding a hand through his hair, a little stressed at the idea. It sounds a little extreme, and a lot expensive.

“Okay,” Calum says easily. “Whatever you want to do, Luke. You know I’ll support whatever decision you make.” Luke smiles, small and genuine.

“Thanks, Cal,” he says. 

“I can’t promise Michael will, though,” Calum adds, and Luke snorts. 

“No, probably not,” he says. 

 -------

 “You said what?” Michael sounds absolutely outraged at the very idea. 

“I said I’d think about it,” Luke repeats. Michael folds his arms. 

“And you’ve thought about it, and you’re going to say no, right?” Luke hesitates, and that’s enough for Michael to make a noise of exasperation and roll his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Luke. You’re not going for dinner with fucking Ashton.” 

“Who are you, my fucking mum?” Luke says, a little irritably. Michael’s expression softens a little at the barbs hidden in Luke’s words. 

“I just don’t want-” he starts, but Luke cuts him off with a shake of his head. 

“I know, Mike,” he says, because he does, he knows, and he doesn’t need to hear it. “I’m twenty-fucking-six, mate. I can make my own decisions.” Michael looks torn, like he half-wants to yell at Luke (which, frankly, he probably does), but then he sighs. 

“Fine,” he says, sounding very much like it’s not fine. “Are you going to go?” Luke shrugs. 

“I haven’t thought about it yet,” he says. Michael gives him a hard look, and looks like he wants to say something else, but then Calum comes back from the kitchen, Duke in his wake, and sets himself down between the two of them. 

“Play nice, you two,” he says warningly, but he’s only looking at Michael. Luke feels a touch smug about that. 

“Fuck you,” Michael says, reaching for one of the bags of popcorn Calum’s brought through from the kitchen. Duke gets on his hind legs and paws at the sofa, gazing at Michael beseechingly, and Michael almost absent-mindedly reaches down to pick him up and put him in his lap. Duke settles down comfortably, resting his head on Michael’s thigh and blinking at Calum and Luke calmly. Something about the familiarity of the interaction makes Luke’s heart ache a little bit.

“Whose turn is it to pick a movie tonight?” Calum asks, reaching for the other two bags of popcorn and tossing one at Luke. 

“Mine,” Michael says. 

“No it’s not,” Luke says. “It’s mine.”

“Yeah, but your taste in movies is so shit that I’m vetoing your turn,” Michael says. Luke squawks indignantly. 

“What?” he says, incensed. “My taste is fucking fine, thank you very much.” 

“He kind of has a point,” Calum says, nodding solemnly at Luke. Luke scowls. 

“Fuck you,” he says, ripping open his popcorn. “Just because you’re fucking soulmates now doesn’t mean you get to gang up on me.” As soon as he’s said it, the atmosphere changes; Calum and Michael exchange a glance, before looking back at Luke. 

“We should probably talk about that,” Michael says carefully, and Luke groans, pinching the bridge of his nose with salty, buttery fingers. Gross. 

“Can we not?” he says, wiping his nose with his sleeve to avoid looking at either of them. “Please, just for one fucking night, let me forget the whole soulmate thing exists.” Calum and Michael both hesitate, and then Calum shoots Michael another quick look and nods at Luke. 

“Okay,” he says. “But your taste in movies is still shitty.” 

Luke throws a cushion at him.

 ------- 

 On Sunday night, at two in the morning, Luke types out a single word. 

Me Ok. 

He presses send, turns airplane mode on, and goes to sleep. 

 -------

 Luke completely forgets that he’d turned airplane mode on on Monday morning until he gets on the train and tries to load Twitter. When he turns it off, messages start popping in, so fast that he can’t read them before the next one arrives. Most of them are from the group chat with Michael and Calum, some argument about whether twenty-four hour time is better or worse than twelve-hour, and he’s got one from his dad asking how he’s doing, and - the reason he’d turned airplane mode on in the first place - one from Ashton. 

Ashton Irwin Thank you. 8pm tonight, Zahli?

Luke bites his lip, staring out of the window as he thinks for a moment.  

Me Ok. 

 ------- 

 He doesn’t tell Calum until after lunch. 

“I said yes,” he says, as casually as possible, staring at his nails like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. They’re kind of disgusting, actually. “Hey, do you have a nail file at home?” 

“When are you seeing him?” Calum asks. “And yeah, in the cupboard under the sink in the upstairs bathroom. Have you tried calling about the boiler again?” Luke nods, picking at his thumbnail with his index finger. 

“Yeah, they said they wouldn’t be back for another week,” he says. Calum pulls a face. 

“You’re paying my water bill this month,” he says. “You take as long in one shower as I do in ten.” 

“Why should I pay for your lack of hygiene?” Luke says. 

“Fuck you, I’m hygienic,” Calum says. “And at least I know how to pick up towels.” 

“Hey, I’m getting better,” Luke says. “I hang them up now.” Calum rolls his eyes. 

“Stuffing them into the towel warmer is not hanging them up,” he says. 

“It’s better than leaving them on the floor, though,” Luke points out, ripping a bit of his thumbnail off. 

“Oh, what, so I should praise you for doing less than the bare minimum because it could be worse?” 

“I mean, a little thanks wouldn’t go amiss,” Luke says, grinning at Calum. Calum scoffs, and rolls his eyes again. 

“You’re the worst housemate I’ve ever had,” he tells Luke. 

“You’ve never had a housemate.” 

“I have now,” Calum says, pointing at him, “and you’re the worst one.” 

“Well, then by definition I’m also the best,” Luke says, biting at the edge of his thumbanil. Calum scowls, and flips him off. 

“When are you seeing Ashton?” Calum asks, which Luke’s kind of torn on, because on the one hand, Calum changing the subject means Luke’s won, but on the other hand, the subject he’s gone for is Ashton. 

“Tonight,” Luke mumbles, around a mouthful of thumb. 

“Tonight?” Calum repeats, and Luke nods. “Okay. Where?” 

“Zahli.” Calum raises his eyebrows. 

“He’ll try to pay,” he says. “Don’t let him.” Luke rolls his eyes. 

“Obviously not,” he says, because he’s not an idiot. 

“What are you going to wear?” Luke stops. He hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I don’t know,” he says, with a shrug. “Probably just my work clothes.” Calum looks him up and down, nodding thoughtfully. 

“Good choice,” he says. “You look good, so you’ll be showing him you’re alright without him, but not so good that he’ll think you’ve put in effort to impress him.” 

“True,” Luke says, because he’s well beyond pretending that he’s not analysing the situation this deeply himself. 

“I wonder what he wants to talk about,” Calum muses, tapping a pen against his chin. 

“Probably, like, how successful his band is, how many guys he’s fucked since me, how happy he’s been,” Luke says, a little spiteful and a little bitter. 

“You’ve been successful,” Calum points out. “You’ve fucked guys since him. You’ve been happy.” 

“I know,” Luke says, but there’s a little twisting in his stomach, because he’s always felt so fucking inferior to Ashton. It feels like he has something to prove since the breakup, like he has to show both Ashton and himself that he’s better now than the iteration of Luke Ashton knew had been. 

“You don’t have to do it,” Calum says, clearly seeing the uncertainty written all over Luke’s face. “You can still back out.” Luke shakes his head. 

“Not now that I’ve said yes,” he says. “He’ll read into it.” 

“So let him,” Calum says, with a shrug. He doesn’t get it - he never cares what other people think, especially not people he doesn’t care about. Luke can’t stop caring what people think about him, especially people he used to care about. 

“I can’t,” Luke says. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be, like, an hour, tops. And then I never have to speak to or see him again.” A weight of relief settles in his stomach at the mere thought, that in six hours everything will be over and his life can return to how it was six months ago. 

“Thank fuck for that,” Calum says, and Luke can’t help but heartily agree. 

 -------

 Luke’s at Zahli at eight on the dot, and, because they hadn’t talked about whether they’d wait outside or go in, decides to head inside on his own. His stomach is a bundle of nerves, tension and anxiety settled into every cell of his body, because this will be the first time he’s seen Ashton in two years. The last time he’d seen Ashton, Ashton had been his, and Luke had been a wreck. It’s embarrassing to think back to, that someone he barely even knows now has seen him like that, at his most vulnerable, so Luke orders a glass of red wine to try and take his mind off it. 

He’s forcing himself to be engrossed in the food menu when Ashton sits down. 

“Hi,” Ashton says, voice clear and low, and Luke looks over his food menu at him. 

It feels like déjà-vu, if déjà-vu involved feeling suddenly sick and defenceless and pathetic. Ashton looks almost the same as the last time Luke had seen him, minus the stressed expression on his face, and maybe with a few more crow’s feet. His golden curls have been dyed black, tucked behind his ear besides the one strand he never could control, and Luke hates that he remembers that. 

“Hi,” Luke says, proud of how steady and cool it comes out. 

“You look good,” Ashton comments, after an awkward moment. 

“This isn’t a date,” Luke says. 

“I know.” 

“Good.” Luke turns back to his menu, palms sweating, heart racing, and tries to focus on the words on the page. 

“Have you ordered?” 

“Obviously not,” Luke says, because he’s got the fucking menu in his hand. 

“Oh, right.” Luke rolls his eyes privately, but says nothing, and then the waiter’s coming over and Luke’s just pointing to the first thing he sees on the page and smiling politely. The waiter, however, then takes the menus away from both of them, and Luke’s left with nothing to hide behind, and has to look at Ashton. 

He’s dressed nicely, in a long-sleeved black lace shirt, and he’s got a few more rings on his fingers than the last time Luke had seen him. He’s still just as muscular - maybe even a little more - and his hazel eyes look a little older, blinking at Luke from behind dark lashes. Luke feels so queasy at the sight of him, almost exactly the same but somehow so fucking different, feels the echoes of the worthlessness and emptiness he’d felt in Ashton’s wake squeezing at his lungs, and wills himself not to throw up. 

“So,” Ashton says, after a long, uncomfortable silence. Luke’s not sure whether he wants to yell at Ashton, cry, leave, or die. Dying currently sounds like the most enticing option of the lot.

“Talk,” Luke says curtly. Ashton blinks. 

“Can you at least be cordial with me?” he says. Luke stares at him. What the fuck makes Ashton think he’s deserved that?

“Talk,” he repeats, because he doesn’t trust himself not to fly off the handle if he says anything non-monosyllabic. Ashton sighs, and looks down at his hands. 

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I want to apologise.” 

“Right.” 

“Can I- can I just say this without you interrupting?” 

Luke hesitates, then nods. Biting remarks aren’t part of the ‘keep him at arm’s length, don’t let it get emotional’ routine, anyway. It won’t hurt to let Ashton say his piece.

“Thank you.” Ashton takes another deep breath. “I want to apologise. I know how I left-” he winces “-was pretty cold, pretty brutal. I’m sorry for that. I’ve given it a lot of thought over the last two years, and I regret it. Like. A lot. I missed you. A lot. I wanted to get back in contact with you, but I knew- I knew you wouldn’t want to hear from me. And then the tattoo came, and I- I didn’t look at it, for a few days, because when I looked at what everyone was saying online, I knew it would be you.” He pauses, eyes flicking back to Luke, like he’s gauging his reaction. Luke, though, is sitting still, emotionless, face blank. He’s not giving Ashton any satisfaction. “And then I looked, and it was. And I knew I had to be yours, but you didn’t say anything.” The pause is longer this time, an invitation for Luke to speak.

“Okay,” Luke says, because he doesn’t really have anything else to say. 

“I- it’s not just the tattoo, Luke,” Ashton says, and Luke never wants to hear his name coming from Ashton’s lips again. “It’s you. I regretted it the minute I left, but I couldn’t go back to you, not knowing what I did. How I did it. I- When I heard about the tattoos, I knew it was going to be you. It’s always been you.” 

Luke kind of wants to laugh. Two years ago, these are the exact words he wanted to hear from Ashton. It was a mistake, I’m sorry, I love you, it’s only you - those words bounced around his head in different fantasies for months on end. Now, though, he feels nothing, and that’s the biggest success Luke thinks he’s ever had in his life. He’s sitting across from the person that took him the closest to the edge, and he feels nothing. It makes him feel powerful, feel in control, and he relaxes a little. Ashton’s apologising to him, opening up to him. Luke’s not giving anything away.

“You fell out of love with me,” Luke says, and it’s not accusing, it’s not emotional. It’s calm, rational, matter-of-fact. 

“I thought I did,” Ashton says, and he opens his mouth to speak but then the waiter comes, handing them their dishes with a smile. Luke throws a smile at him, but Ashton barely glances at him. There’s an awkward silence as the waiter asks if they want any pepper, and Luke says yes please, and they have to wait for the waiter to bring it over and then for Luke to say stop. Luke lets it go on a little longer than maybe strictly necessary, childishly enjoying the way Ashton’s squirming in his seat, and then thanks the waiter with a brilliant smile, just to drive home the point of how friendly he can be with people that aren’t Ashton. 

“I thought I did,” Ashton repeats, when the waiter’s finally gone and Luke’s tucking into his potatoes. “That’s why I left. I thought I didn’t love you anymore, and then I actually had to live without you, and I realised it was just because we were settling into a familiar love. I just couldn’t handle the commitment, and it made me block you out.” Luke raises an eyebrow, but keeps eating, and Ashton sighs. 

“Look,” he says. “I- I know I fucked up. Badly. But I didn’t need a tattoo to tell me that. I already knew what the tattoo confirmed. I’d-” he swallows. “I’d really like the opportunity to have a second chance.” Luke sets his fork down at that, and sits back in his chair. 

“Do you know what you did to me?” he says, calm and even. Ashton just stares at him, which Luke takes as a no, so he goes on. “You left me feeling like I was worthless. I spent months in therapy, and even longer crying on Calum and Michael’s shoulders every night. I couldn’t be alone. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe because everything was you.” He pauses, weighing up his next words. “You left, and I was left behind. I had to work hard to fall out of love with you. That was your choice, not mine. I would probably never have stopped loving you if you’d let me. But you moved on, and so I had to as well. And the consequence of your choice, your actions, is that I don’t love you anymore. I don’t feel anything for you anymore. I’m only here to get you to leave me alone.” Ashton looks a little sick when Luke finishes. 

“And the fact we’re soulmates doesn’t mean anything to you?” he says, his voice cracking slightly on the word ‘soulmates’. Luke shrugs. 

“No,” he says. “I don’t want to be with you. I don’t care who else you fuck. I don’t care who else you love. I don’t care about you anymore, Ashton.” Ashton swallows, and nods. 

“I guess I deserve that,” he says, and Luke can’t help but huff out a laugh. 

“You kind of do,” he says, but it’s not unkind. Ashton sighs, and rakes a hand through his hair. 

“I thought you’d be more open to the idea,” he admits, taking Luke aback a little with his honesty. 

“You don’t know me anymore,” Luke says. “Don’t kid yourself that you do. I’m not the same person you left behind.” 

“Doesn’t it bother you, though? That we’re supposed to be together?”

“I guess sometimes the universe gets it wrong,” Luke says, with a shrug. “We tried, and it didn’t work.” 

“It might work now that I know how to love you properly,” Ashton says. 

“I’m not going to give you a second chance based on a ‘maybe’,” Luke says. Ashton stares at him for a moment, and then nods, tight-lipped and unhappy. For the first time, Luke feels a little sorry for him. He’s not even touched his food. 

“Can I see it?” Ashton asks, after a moment. 

“It’s on my back,” Luke says. “It’s your bird tattoo, carrying a drumstick in its mouth with one of your moons in the background.” Ashton nods again, but it’s absent-minded, almost numb.

“That sounds beautiful,” he says. 

“It is,” Luke says. 

“Mine’s a daisy chain wrapped around a microphone,” Ashton says. 

“That’s my favourite flower,” Luke says, without thinking, and Ashton nods. Of course, Ashton already knew that. Luke remembers the conversation; Ashton laughing at him (“Daisies can’t be your favourite flower, Luke, that’s fucking stupid.”), his defensiveness (“Fuck you, they’re cute.”), chucking a cushion at a giggling Ashton’s head. 

“It’s on my tricep,” Ashton says, even though Luke hadn’t asked. 

“Mine’s on my shoulderblade.” Ashton nods, and they lapse into silence. Luke’s finished his food, and Ashton’s not even glanced at his, which is stopping the waiter from coming back to clear their plates away. 

“We should probably pay,” Luke says, when the silence stretches on for so long that he thinks it might be Tuesday already. 

“Okay,” Ashton says, and he sounds kind of sad. Luke flags down the waiter, who asks Ashton if there was a problem with the food, and an awkward conversation ensues in which Ashton smiles at the waiter and tells him no, he just doesn’t feel well, but his friend had really enjoyed the food, and Luke watches as the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. The waiter asks if they want to split the bill or pay as one, and Luke jumps in and says they want to split it before Ashton can make one final grand romantic gesture, or whatever. The waiter nods, coming back (much to Luke’s relief) in record time with the card machine and two bills. Luke and Ashton pay, thank the waiter, and then fumble with their coats as they get up and head out into the temperate November night. 

“So,” Ashton says, when they get out of the restaurant. “I guess this is it.” Luke nods. 

“This is it,” he says. 

“I had a nice evening,” Ashton says, and Luke can’t help but laugh. 

“No, you didn’t,” he says. Ashton half-smiles. 

“Okay, no I didn’t,” he admits. “But I did enjoy seeing you again.” Luke nods, not really sure how to take that. 

“Good luck with everything,” he says. 

“You too,” Ashton says. Luke smiles at him, and it’s a real smile, partially fuelled by relief, and partially by something he can’t quite put his finger on. 

“Get home safe,” Luke says, because he can’t say ‘see you’, since he’s sincerely hoping not to. 

“You too,” Ashton says again. Luke nods, offers him one last smile, and then turns on his heel and walks away. 

His shoulderblade tingles as he goes, and there’s an odd edge of sadness to his relief, but he doesn’t stop or look back.

taglist: @glitterlukey @hey-its-grey 

chapter three

[justsomewritingsandshit]

The Struggles of a Male Veela - (Part 6 - What A Revelation!)

Louis Weasley x Soulmate!OC

Length: 3926 words

Warnings: soulmate!au, altered ages of next gen, female OC, Hunter Parrish as Louis, mostly about Selene, jEaLoUsY

Part 6 of this series | Masterlist | Part 5

Three weeks after her awkward date with Mari Singh, Selene felt the first sign.

The young woman was mid-conversation with her friends, whilst they all sat at the Slytherin breakfast table. Well, it was less of a conversation and much more like an unnecessarily heated debate. Today’s (debate) topic was the correct pronunciation of the word ‘gala’. Ben Boot, a well-travelled young man, had informed his three closest companions that he’d recently discovered that many Americans pronounced the word as ‘gay-la’, rather than ‘gah-la’. Which was entirely wrong in Selene’s opinion.

Emery took a dramatic breath before she bravely announced that she too pronounced the word as ‘gay-la’. “It sounds right that way!” At her friends sneers, she defended herself, “Well it does to me!”

“Disgusting.”

“Absolutely.”

Emmaline pressed her fist over her eyes, looking away from her sister, “You think you know someone!”

Their friendly razzing of Emery went on for a bit. Eventually though, it faded out as the students needed to finish their breakfasts before they went on to their morning classes.

Glancing across the Great Hall, Emmaline commented, “It looks like lover-boy’s fan-club is getting bigger, huh?” She sent a rather sneaky glance towards Selene, who was chewing on her toast, as she spoke.

“Huh? What club?”

Ben mimed to Selene that she had crumbs clinging to the side of her lip, “Oh, you know! Your boy-toy’s little fans. Oh, no, no, on your left side.”

Successfully ridding herself of the clinging crumbs, Selene’s eyebrows drew into a furrow, “What are you lot on about?”

Emery sniggered, “You’re little Gryffindor, Sel.”

“Huh? You mean Louis?”

“Oh,” Emmaline teased, “So she does know who we’re talking about!”

Selene was a little stunned by their teasing remarks. A part of her understood why her friends must have assumed there to be a romance forming between the two. After all, Selene was not the type of person to immediately latch onto a new friend, especially in the way she had with Louis. Did she become casual acquaintances with people? Yes. Did Selene seek them out, then spend hours talking and laughing with those new acquaintances? No. Like most people, the young girl could be considered a creature of habit. Not seeing much need to branch out, Selene tended to stick with her tried-and-tested friend group. To add a new person into the role of friend meant something to her, growth. But, to her overly hopeful friends all of whom wanted only the absolute best for their friend; this friendship looked more like a potentially blossoming relationship.

And that was the wrong assumption…

“Okay,” She took a sip of her water, before she turned to look at them, “First of all; Louis and I are friends. He is not my ‘lover-boy’.” She ignored Ben’s ‘but you want him to be’. “Second of all, yes I’ve heard about his fan club. They’re… uh, they are…” Selene struggled to find a kind but straight-forward word for ‘a little bit scary, but mainly weird’.

“Creepy? Yes.” Emery answered, blasé. “Like, I would be the first among us to admit that Weasley is super fit.” An uncomfortable ripple raced through Selene’s gut. Briefly, the girl wondered if her monthlies (as her mothers’ called it) were making an appearance earlier than usual this month. “However, I agree that this whole club thing is very weird.”

Ben nodded, “Yeah! I mean, Louis is cute. And yes! I think we all would let him slap our arse, should he so choose to!” Emmaline and Emery both nodded at his words, and Emery even lifted her glass of pumpkin juice in toast. “But, lovey, dearie, sweet love-child-of-mine, just put the school out of its misery, and claim that Adonis as your own!”

Inwardly, her stomach rolled again at his first statement, stopping suddenly once speaking had trailed to a finish. Outwardly, however, Selene cheekily rolled her eyes as if she was amused by Ben’s exasperation on the subject. “Whatever.” She dismissed it all nonchalantly, before standing up from the bench. “Let’s get going, I want to stop by the hospital wing before class. My stomach’s not feeling right today.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Emmaline swiftly rushed her friend out of the Great Hall, the Slytherin girl’s worry-wort nature taking the reins.

There is an old muggle saying, once could be a coincidence but twice suggests a pattern.

The uncomfortable turn of her stomach – the one that had made Selene previously think that she wanted to be sick, or that she had cramps early that month – appeared again. And the sensation appeared as suddenly as it had before…

And, with the holidays approaching, it felt like everyone was getting progressively more excited for the end of term. The entire castle had begun its descent into excitement for the upcoming holidays.

Like in muggle shopping villages and districts, Hogwarts began the festivities almost as soon as the calendar switched from November to December. The corridors were decked out with red and green coloured wreaths and garlands. The house elves worked diligently, silently completing their work in a single night.

Tiny first years had started to gather together with older students. A portion of them prepared gifts and played games for Hanukkah. The students who celebrated Solstice and Yule were already marching across the school’s lawns for items they wanted to use in their altars – this particular group was an interesting mix of muggle-born ideologies of wicca and witches, as well as the magical version of wizardry. Those who celebrated Christmas were doing their best to stock up on papers for wrapping, they were ordering rolls of it by owl ready for their last few Hogsmeade trips before the 25th. Even the professors were getting into the spirit – Professor Longbottom had his singing tulips (which were a rare find of his from a trek across the Scandies in his late twenties) hum seasonal songs whilst he taught.

And as the term wound down, most of the students were gearing up to take the train back down to London. There were a few who were eager to be left (relatively) alone in the quiet castle. Selene happened to be undecided on the subject, tossing up whether she should stay or to go home and celebrate Yule with her busy mothers’.

The Slytherin was mulling it over when she was heading back to the common room. She only had one class left for term, but the textbook she needed was in her dorm. For a moment, she thought about sneakily using the accio charm, but knew it was banned for a good reason – flying objects can be hazardous when not charmed to fly above people after all. She weighed the pros and cons; she’d have more things to do in the castle, more people to talk to, her parents would probably have to work on Yule… Eventually, she decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday. When she got to her dorm, she would owl her mothers to let them know.

She turned the corner that lead to the grand staircase, thinking about asking if Ben was going to hang around the castle too this year. Selene had seen that the girls had already packed their trunk to leave, so she didn’t feel a particular need to ask them the same.

Unfortunately, Selene’s next turn into the adjacent corridor had led her to be the sole witness as an older girl (from the year above) slid her claws over the forearm of a familiar-looking blonde boy.

That stomach turn happened again.

Selene swiftly turned around, deciding to walk to the common room the long way. Also, she had suddenly decided to return to her home for the holidays.

Yule celebrations came and went early in her home.

Selene’s mothers were very apologetic when they told Selene that they’d have to work on the day of Yule. Still, the three of them had held a smaller, more intimate celebration a few days before.

The earlier celebration left the young girl to aimlessly wander around her own home on the actual day of Yule. She was bored out of her mind. It was approaching the late morning and Selene had already cracked onto her holiday homework – all part-the-way-done, apart from a Runes essay, which required a lengthy reading of a textbook that she had left behind whilst franticly packing.

The Slytherin had decided she should finally owl the school, to see if they could let her off on the Runes essay, or at the least send over her the textbook. She had made her way up to family attic, where her great-great-grandparents had set up a make-shift aviary for their business owls years ago. Apparently, back then they had run a small mail-order potions business. It was a Morgenstern family rumour that they sold an illegal werewolf suppressant potion, before wolfsbane had even been invented.

Selene’s owl hooted softly to the girl, making its presence known. It sat on rigidly on its perch, a pile of letters and small boxes on a tall table to its immediate left. Selene pet the owl carefully, slipping the bird two treats. Then, she arranged some more water and feed for it before she gathered up all her mail.

“Thank you, Soot!”

The first few letters were Christmas cards from her various muggleborn friends, some including cute non-moving photographs of their families. One had a Father Christmas who was drawn to be surfing on a beach, from her friend whose family spent the holidays in Australia. Another was a sexy version of the red-clad man, the words asking if she’d been ‘naughty’ that year – that one was from Naomi Gardner, who had written in thanks for setting her up with Mari.

Ben had done what he usually did and had written her a lengthy letter. He opened it with a greeting, as well as some well wishes to Selene and her mothers. Then Ben informed her that he had decided to stay at Hogwarts that year (which was usual for Ben, as he kind of hated his extended family, who had a tradition of gathering together this time of year), and that he loved the gift that she’d left for him under the Slytherin common room tree. At that point in the letter, the boy demanded that Selene open the gift he had included. It was a gorgeous goblin-made quilt set in her favourite shade of mauve.

Ben went on in his letter to detail the latest gossip going around the castle, ‘It turns out that wench in the year above, you know the one! The absolute wench Julie McNamara, that swish! She was seen trying to flirt with your mother-missing boy before term ended! I cannot believe the gall of the wench! Everybody knows that he only has eyes for you, I swear!’

Last year, Ben had been gifted with a spelled pen. It automatically censored his cursing. It had been a joke-gift from Emery but ended up being his favourite writing utensil to date. As such, Selene had fitted it with a never-ending ink-well, and Emmaline had spelled it to be impossible to lose.

He went on; ‘Apparently, he had to have his family step in! The wench just wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I’m telling you Selene; everyone said that it was absolutely disgusting! She had to be formally warned away by the professors too. In this day and age!’

Selene felt an unclear anger suddenly rush through her body.

She could easily see how Julie McNamara would make Louis uncomfortable. He was such a lovely guy, but he got awkward when anyone even jokingly flirted with him. In fact, the first time she ever jokingly winked at him, his face went fuchsia for three-and-a-half minutes. Poor Louis! Selene could picture in her mind how her Louis would try to uneasily shift away from her, but…

Her hand released Ben’s letter. It fluttered to the carpeted floor silently.

Oh.

“Oh,” Selene breathed, tears springing to her eyes for no reason. Her thoughts were now cleared like the sky after a storm, “I like him.” That explained so, so much. So much. “Bollocks.”

The week following her realisation, Selene was working on autopilot. She went about her days like nothing was out of the ordinary. Dinner with her mothers, doing her school reading, finishing up the assessments she’d started before… Selene did it all, without a single complaint.

That worried her mothers.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” Selene looked up from her plate to see her mother, Dorothea, looking at her in concern. “Sorry, did you ask me something?”

The woman shook her head, dark curls bouncing as she did. “No, sweetheart. We just, you know –”

“The point your mother is trying to get to,” Her other mother, Appoline, sent her wife a cheeky glance before her expression melted into a concerned one. “Are you feeling alright, Selene?” At her daughter’s furrowed brows, she went on, “Your mother and I have noticed that you seem to be a little spacey, dear.” Her tanned skin pulled taut around her pursed lips, “Are you having a disagreement with the girls?” Appoline was referring to Emmaline and Emery, as well as Ben.

“No, I…” Selene wasn’t even sure what to say. Her teenaged brain told her to lie to their faces. Letting her parents know too much about her school life, her social life, might lead to a lecture Selene did not want to sit through… Although, “I just realised that I, uh, fancy one of my friends. A lot.” The Slytherin had been stewing in the idea all week and was now desperate to at least speak the words out loud. “I, um, I didn’t realise until, like, last week.” She paused, pushing her vegetables around on her plate, avoiding their surprised eyes. “So… yeah. That’s it really.”

There was a moment of awkward, confused silence.

Clearing her throat, Dorothea spoke to her daughter sincerely. “Is this something you want to discuss with us further, sweetheart?”

Selene mulled over how to answer. Did she want to talk about this? Maybe. Until now, she didn’t realise how pent up she had begun to feel. Did Selene want to open up to her married parents about this, though? Two lesbians (well, one of her mothers is bisexual), who had been monogamously together for longer than ten years? Not really.

The teen smiled awkwardly at her parents, “Actually, I think I want to talk to the girls about it. I might send them an owl, or-” Selene stopped herself, to think on it for a moment longer, “This is probably something I want to say to them in person, though.”

“Okay.” Appoline nodded in understanding, before she tactfully changed their dinner conversation, “So, I was listening to this Korean band yesterday.”

She brought it up with her friends when they were all corralled in the safety of the common room. Selene waited until it was late, as there would be less people around to hear them discuss something so personal. Slipping it into the already flowing conversation, “I realised I fancy Louis.”

All speaking stopped. Ben, who had been using his personal copy of ‘Hogwarts; A History – Volume 24’ to prove a point, loudly snapped it shut. Emery had paused mid-chew, and there was a gummy serpent still hanging from the corner of her parted lips. Emmaline, who was sat next to Selene, stared at her friend in complete shock.

Selene shuffled nervously in her seat, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Girl, what do you mean–?”

“’Just realised’?” Emery finished her sisters thought, the gummy falling into her lap.

Selene sighed, the sound tinged with embarrassment, “Well… When you lads were making fun of me, saying that ‘of course I liked him’.” The three nodded, knowing the instances she was talking of, “I, uh,” She let out a breath chuckle, “Well, I didn’t know. I thought I only liked Louis as a mate, you know; a friend.” Her head tilted, “I mean, I’ve always been attracted to him,” Her head tilted the other way, “I just did not know that I, uh, you know… fancied him. Like proper fancy, you know?”

Ben’s mouth was agape.

“No. I don’t know.” Emmaline disagreed. “How did you not know?” To Selene’s friends, it was so clear – her feelings had been so transparent to them, so see-through. “You were undressing him with your eyes, for Merlin’s sake!”

“I was not!” Selene argued indignantly.

“Oh, you were too!” Ben argued back. “The two of you are always looking at each other, starry eyed. Frankly, it’s a little sickening. And not in a good way!” He flung his book behind him, leaning closer to Selene. “We told you, as well!”

Emery nodded, “We did!” She viciously bit the head of her now-retrieved gummy serpent, “And,” She paused to quickly chew, “You basically go on study-dates, nearly every bloody day.” Emmaline nodded in agreement with her sister. “Babes, when you said you were going out with Mari, on Halloween, we were so confused!”

Ben sighed, “Ah, that’s right! Ugh, we were convinced that you had been courting Weasley before that.”

Selene scoffed, “Courting him? I barely know him!”

In wizarding society, courting was serious. It was like a person screaming their personal commitment to another in a court of law. There was no way to go even one day without another wizard finding out about the commitment. Firstly, because every child was taught about the process in their first year of education at whatever school they attend. Secondly, every couple entering into courtship had to be witnessed by three other witches or wizards, as a testament to how serious the process is (and also because three is a deeply important number to magic-users). Young witches and wizards could date to their hearts content, but courting meant a true declaration of intent – the intent being marriage or a binding, of course. There had been times where dating had led into courting. And they were also rarely broken, due to the gravity of the whole process.

There would have been no way for Louis to be in a courtship with Selene – her heart ached in joy, at the thought of being in anything with the blonde Gryffindor – without any other person knowing.

Emmaline scoffed back, mocking Selene, “’Barely know him’?” She smacked Selene’s shoulder, “You spend everyday in each other’s presence, you should know everything about each other by now!”

“Well, not everything!”

Emery butt in, “You definitely know enough!”

“What are his sister’s names again?”, Ben challenged her.

“Victoire and Dominique,” Selene answered automatically, before rolling her eyes, “That’s a basic thing to know about another person!”

Emmaline nodded, “Alright then, what are his cousins’ called?” Selene looked away from her, not wanting to see the smug look on her face, “You know them, don’t you?”

“Wow!”

“It’s not private information!” Selene argued with them, “We do go to school with half of them!”

Ben gave her a disbelieving look, “I bet you couldn’t name the collective five cousins that we,” He pointed to himself, then the twins, “Have had at this school.”

“Daisy, Marcus, Kipper, Damien,” Selene struggled with the last one, “I, I want to say Humphrey…”

“Oh, honey…”

One moment she was completely oblivious to these feelings she had, and was living her life perfectly normally, the next moment she’s almost paralyzed – with what she wasn’t completely comfortable in calling fear… but it was an emotion closely related.

Also, there were questions clogging her thoughts now… Should she tell Louis of her feelings for him? Should she leave it be? Most importantly, how is she to act around Louis now?

Her mind shouted many ways not to act – and the dozens of reasons why she shouldn’t act in those ways. But how could she maintain their previous easy camaraderie? That camaraderie, and their ability to instinctively know what the other is thinking, was so comforting before. A small pit of dread pooled in her stomach, at the thought of losing that friendship with Louis.

When this dilemma was brought up to the girls (which again, included Ben), they told her to act as she had before – mainly because they knew she liked him even then, so there shouldn’t be too much acting involved for her.

“So, how were the holidays for you?” Louis had joined Selene at their study table, as usual. He quickly slung his bag off his shoulder, before plopping down onto the wooden chair. “Anything exciting happen?” The Gryffindor leaned over the table to whisper conspiratorially, “Any fights?”

Selene’s pulse spiked at his proximity, but she quickly composed herself to the best of her resting-bitch-faced ability. Once she was normal again, she realised that the question made no sense to her, “Like a physical fight?”

Louis choked trying to hold in his raucous laughter at her question. Although, he was not as successful as he might have had hoped for. Even though the blonde covered his mouth, hushed chortles managed to escape. Louis’s eyes even watered. After a moment, he forced himself to take deep breaths, to compose himself. “Sorry. I forgot you’re an only child.” Selene’s confused look did not fade, “You know, there’s just a certain level of craziness that having siblings brings. Plus, the high tension of the holidays... With my family, there’s more than enough sparks flung about to start a fire.” Louis paused as he remembered, “In fact, two years ago; there was an actual fire.”

Selene’s eyes widened, “No!”

“Yes.” Louis leaned forward again, excitement and humour plain on his sweet face as he remembered the absurdity of the situation, “So the twins-”

Purposely, the Slytherin guessed one name wrong, “Rosie and Fred, right?”

Louis beamed, oblivious to her purposeful mix-up. He was just overjoyed that his mate was putting in effort in remembering his extensive family members. “Roxanne and Fred,” The blonde softly corrected. “Well, they decide one afternoon, that my grandpa Weasley’s Christmas tree was not festive enough.”

The dark-haired girl tilted her head, “Is that your grandfather who is obsessed with muggles?”

“Yes!” Louis did not think he could be grinning more – surely, his face might split in half if he even tried. “So, every year he brings out this ancient fake Christmas tree – it was a gift from my Aunt Hermione’s parents, probably about twenty years ago.” He paused, to duck his head when the librarian glared their way, with her penetrating, evil eyes. Louis waited until she turned back around before he went on, “The twins knew that most trees had lights on them, but grandpa Weasley didn’t… They managed to convince him that he should use candles.”

Selene’s eyes sprung into wide-eyed shock, “They didn’t!” At Louis confirming nod she pressed, “At least he charmed them, right?” The blonde’s face turned mischievous. “No! He forgot?” Her gasps had been quiet enough, but they always had an audience when they were together.

Two first year Hufflepuffs (who had twenty-four textbooks piled between their arms) got to watch firsthand as Selene dissolved into a fit of laughter. It began with a loud snort, which left Selene trying to cover her face. To no avail it seemed, as her giggles were audible all the way from where the first years were lollygagging. One of the Hufflepuffs decided that they way Louis was gazing at her – his eye lit up at her enjoyment, not daring to look away for even one moment – had to be what true love was.

TAGGED:

@iamwarrenspeace, @itsnolongerteen, @stilesloverdaily, @immortalmurphy, @fandomsandotherstuff, @mcheung0314, @aw-hawkeye, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @thenodmonster, @realgreglestrade, @seninjakitey, @theshortegg, @gqlqxies, @footballiskillingme, @romance-geek​