#On and off sober for the past 30 years straight. .. it's not going to end well.

[blue-banditt]

experiencing v mild and transient psychosis, I genuinely can't tell if it's withdrawal or from not sleeping. Luckily it's not toooooo distressing just kinda have a bit of paranoia lingering in the back of my head that I'm ignoring rn.

Hallucinations have been p harmless I just thought I saw a man watching me over my neighbors fence this morning

[lillian-nator]

Them being mixtapes are a great idea, what if after Tommy gets drunk initially, dream gets dared to steal them, so he does, then he forgets that he has them and when Tommy Wakes the next morning he's in a panic bc The Mixtapes!! - 💙

Yeah! Something like that could work. 

I have two ideas, one of them I came up with during Spanish class, and the second one I came up with right now. 

Idea A.

My original idea is based off of the fact that Tommy like a week after he is told not to hang out with Dream anymore, goes and sneaks out to hang out. 

So, about two weeks after the party Tommy gets a text from either Purpled (who’s parents have no clue about the party) or Dream saying that ‘the gang’ was going to be hanging out at this abandoned bridge Karl found a while ago when he was driving around the town. So, Tommy, being the dumb fucking teenager he is, sneaks out his window with just his phone and a really thin jacket, and heads to the fucking abandoned bridge. 

So, like, it’s really cool lets not lie here. Like its an abandoned bridge, and a bunch of teenagers ranging from 15 to 19, are just sitting on it, legs dangling and shit. Here comes Dream doing some whack-ass parkour, and Big Q walking on the edge. I mean - lets not lie here either, Tommy is doing some dumb-ass parkour shit too, hanging from ledges and shit (no wonder Wilbur wants Tommy to stay the fuck away from the Dteam they encourage Tommy’s dumb shit). 

Enter BIG Q the resident family pothead. (this is Big Q the character we are talking about - and more so Big Q the character in this specific au, even though Big Q the character is also probably a pothead, not Quackity the person k cool). Anyways, so while they are all busy endangering their lives atop this ginormous abandoned bridge, Big Q is just chilling, smoking a joint. It gets passed around a couple times, just cause they were chilling at like 2 am in the morning - and what can I say, they are sleep deprived teenagers, they are gonna do some stupid shit.

Anyways, during all of this, they are playing truth or dare, and half way through Tommy just passes out leaning on Dream - because they are like best friends pog. So, then Dream gets a dare to steal Tommy’s mixtapes, because George saw Tommy listening to them on the way here. All of the boys know how much the mixtape means to him, and they really just want to see his reaction, but when Tommy woke up like 30 minutes later, he just gets up and stumbles home because he is cold and tired and really fucking hungry. 

So Enter Thomas Innit. Coming home at 3am, just straight through the front door because he is high out of his mind, and having a great time. Phil - who is the one who caught him - doesn’t catch on straight away because he doesn’t know the symptoms of being high, and lets not lie here, Tommy is really good at getting out of shit. (flashback to that one time he convinced niki to drown instead of niki convincing Tommy not to). 

What Phil does notice though, is that Tommy is wearing someone else’s jacket. 

It’s SapNap’s varsity jacket. 

So Tommy starts getting a lecture about sneaking out at night and how he was not supposed to hang out with Dream or SapNap, or that group of boys, until he is ungrounded. (did I mention that Phil definitely grounded Tommy for going to that party). Not to mention that he left the house when he was grounded; like Tommy what the hell? 

But then Wilbur comes downstairs because he is an awfully light sleeper and hears the commotion downstairs. Tommy, who is already kind of angry because he was having a really good time with his friends, and he knows that Purpled isn’t getting this lecture - and that Tubbo is still asleep - not to mention he really just wants to fucking eat. 

So, he pushes past Phil to get to the chip cabinet when Wilbur enters. He looks confused at first, but then spots the jacket. Wilbur is just getting ready to fucking kill someone when Phil pulls him aside and tells Wilbur that he had already given a lengthy lecture, and that he should lay off Tommy for the night. 

Wilbur begrudgingly agrees, only because he knows that lectures from Phil are the worst. So, he sits at the counter, and asks Tommy to hand him a bottle of water when he sees that his brother is snacking on the chips. Sure, Tommy takes a good minute to react, but Wilbur put that aside to sleepiness as it was 3am in the morning. 

As soon as Tommy turned around though, Wilbur’s anger shot through the roof. I mean, Wilbur could tell. He had spent enough time with Schlatt half-high trying to make out with Wilbur, to know what being high looked like - and that look was on his fucking 15-year-old brother. He could see it with the red-rimmed eyes, and the far off look, not to mention that Tommy had never been that relaxed in his life. 

He quickly stood up, almost knocking his stool to the ground, and grabbed Tommy by the chin to look at his face.

Phil: “Wilbur what are you doing? I already told you that I gave Tommy a lecture. Just let him eat -”  Wilbur: “Are you fucking high right now?” (I feel as though it is important to mention that Wilbur like growls this)  Phil: “What?” (you know how phil says this) Tommy: *like a moody teenager, gritting through his teeth* “No.”  Wilbur: “You’re fucking high.” He laughs, “Who the fuck gave you weed?” Tommy: “I don’t know. It was passed around! Can I have my chin back bro, I’m fucking hungry.”  Wilbur: “No you can’t ‘bro’. Why the fuck did you smoke weed?”  Tommy: “Why not? You hang with stoners.”  Wilbur: “Schlatt has smoked a couple times, I wouldn’t call him a stoner. And also, he’s fucking legal! He is 18 years old!”  Tommy: “Well Big Q is 18 too!” Wilbur: “So it was Quackity then? I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.” Wilbur goes to storm off, but Phil stops him.  Phil: “Both of you calm down!” Phil sighs rubbing his temple. “Tommy we are going to fucking talk about this in the morning. But, I’m not going to let you kill a Junior Wil. We will sort this out tomorrow. I know you aren’t happy, and I’m not either, but the kid is probably high out of his fucking mind right now, I’m not going to let you take advantage of that.”  Wilbur: He brushes Phil’s hand off of his shoulder, storming into the living room. “Fine. I’ll beat him up when he is sober. It’ll be funner anyways.” 

Tommy just storms up to his room, pissed that he didn’t get to finish his the rest of his chips, when his phone buzzes. 

It’s a text from Purpled asking if Tommy knows where he put his shoes. Tommy stifles a laugh, trying hard not to fucking wheeze - the weed wasn’t making this easy on him - but decides to throw his phone across the room, and faceplant onto the bed, hoping that tomorrow would never come. 

Let’s just say that Techno is mildly confused when he waked up the next morning to Wilbur pacing the room, and Phil tiredly drinking his third cup of coffee - chip bad thrown on the counter. 

And the mixtapes? Well, Tommy doesn’t know their missing. And Dream? He fucking forgets he has them. 

Idea B.

Dream steals the mixtapes on a dare the night of the party. 

Tommy doesn’t notice that he doesn’t have them the first few days. He is really, really just focused on the fact that he is upset at Wilbur. 

I mean, he tries hard not to be, because Wilbur came and picked him up from a party where he would’ve probably sat in just pure pain for the rest of night. He might’ve found safety in one of Dream’s guest bedrooms, or even in Dream’s loft bed - but he most likely would’ve crashed at Tubbo’s and he couldn’t deal with Eret’s rant right then. 

He loved Tubbo’s brother - sure, but he knew that if his own brothers saw the pain he was in, they would quit the lecturing for the night and just try to help him. 

He was right too. They helped him into the house, and stayed up with him when he threw up all night, and had a massive headache. They gave him Tylenol and tums, and dimmed all of the lights. Tommy wasn’t upset that he called his brothers no - but he wouldn’t be a teenage boy if he wasn’t irrationally angry at Phil for grounding him. 

He spent most of his time in his room, listening to music, or sneaking Tubbo through the window. Tubbo wasn’t fucking grounded - but then again, Tubbo barely had a few drinks of beer, and Tommy had uh - a few cans. 

In the long run, his brothers ended up being less angry with him and more angry at Dream for giving him the beer - which really didn’t make sense in Tommy’s mind due to the fact that he was the one who drank it, and he was the one who snuck out to the party in the first place. But, he guessed that it was the perks of being their baby brother, they could never really stay mad at him. 

But after a few days, he went to look for the tapes, and they were fucking gone. He didn’t know how to tell Wilbur - he couldn’t face Phil or Techno knowing that he lost his most prized possession. 

He came into Wilbur’s room bawling at like midnight one night, and Wilbur - who had no clue what was going on - just had to comfort his little brother. Through choked sobs Wilbur learnt that he had lost the tapes, and that he was ‘so, so, sorry wil. I don’t know how it happened, they were in my backpack when I got there.’ 

And what does Dream do with the disk? Well you’re gonna have to find out I guess. 

[speedypandaweasel]

One Big Adventure - a Wilford Warfstache and Abe story (Non-Ship) (2,914 Words)

Thank you for the request @canceltheact! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you would like to submit a request, see the information at the Masterlist and submit through the Q and A!

PSA - THIS IS NOT A SHIP oke, let us begin...

Dazed images fog up the minds of two *very* hungover men as they stagger their way up to the apartment. Abe fumbles his way through the door and over strewn clothes. He continues on and manages to put together the kaleidoscope of scenery that is right in front of him. To his left, a saggy sofa sits and a cheap TV dangerously hangs off the stripping wallpaper by a thread. To his right, a grimy kitchen is on display which even the worst chef in the world wouldn't waste his time in. The other man, however, is blabbering away, slurring his words like a car on an icy motorway. "HA!, I tell *hick* you Abe, I'm so glad I remembered you, you see *hick*, I can't even remember where I put my-" Aaaand he's gone. His body moulds into the cushions that poorly support his droopy frame, and his scuffed platform boots dangle over the side. Abe smiles, slightly soberer than before. Who would have thought that this stock still of a man, whose only aesthetics were the colour beige and veterans, would somehow have a goofy, lighter side to him? All the criminals he's met and caught among the years...

Hold up, has he met anyone? He can't remember any experiences where he HAS met any, so why did he think that? Hm, must be the Tequila talking. Abe hopscotches over the empty Wine and Martini bottles that are decorated across the stained carpet. Damm, William has not been taking care of himself. Mind you, neither has he so he can't really say anything. He arrives into the walk-in kitchen and opens a dusty cupboard. His tired eyes only meet with shot and tumbler glasses.

How much does this Man drink!? Shuffling used plates and greasy cutlery out of the way, he fills a scotch glass with water. Dowsing the liquid felt like heaven. His exhausted physique felt like a body that's been stuck in the desert for a considerable amount of time and didn't know it needed water to survive. Oh, now he feels the headache coming on.

Reader, you know when water tastes funny? It's because your brain hasn't been receiving enough H20 because you've been drinking too many energy drinks. Yeah, that feeling is exactly what Abe is feeling right now. CONTINUING ON!

The scotch glass watches from the draining board whilst the Detective plays the quietest game of the floor is lava, whilst the moustached man is making much more noise. He manages to reach a corridor which he thinks leads towards the bedroom and tiptoes down the tight hall to find a vacant room. On the way, he passes another room. It was Barnum's. His mind was split in two, Does he go in? Or stay out? Through the crack in the door, the catastrophe has indeed spread into his sleeping quarters. A mountain of flamboyant disco clothes gathers dust in front of his Chester draws, the bed's not made and more liquor bottles are having a social gathering on top. Oh William, you may be a murderer, but you need to prioritise yourself. He takes a last look at his passed out flatmate down the hallway, before shutting the guest bedroom door. Grey. It's all he's met with. Much like his exterior. He slips his shoes off and starts to unbutton his off-white shirt. he runs a hand down his chest and over the scar. How the Hell did he survive that? He can't be bothered to go into it right now, he's too tired. He snuggles into bed and does the infamous cold bed dance.

You know the one.

Abe gets out of the tempting bed once more and walks back into the living room. He creeps over to William, the man's mouth catching flies. He carefully takes his enormous shoes off and places them on the floor. Barnum's mismatch socks disappear underneath the blanket. "Night William."

~ A gorgeous smell of Breakfast wanders its way through the apartment and Abe groggily wakes up. His eyes peel open and with a yawn, he trudges through to the living room. Remembering from earlier this morning, he needed to position himself for his dance routine around the non-existent floor. "What are you doing my main man?" Barnum brightly asks, a hearty chuckle accompanies the question. Resided in the pristine kitchen, his big, strong hand holds a Skillet and two China plates are centred on the pebble grey marble island. Abe, however, is currently squatting as though he was playing a game of leapfrog with some imaginary friends. The Detective goes to jump but then is taken back at the sight. The apartment is now spick and span, no more Wine Bottles, no more strewn clothes. The windows are tied wide open and it overlooks the sketchy neighbourhood that they reside in. "How did you do this?" "Do what?" "You know, clean up this quickly?" Barnum checks his watch. It's 7:30 am "Oh well you see, I ironed a nice pair of jeans and found a lovely dandelion coloured shirt. Accompanied by some rainbow braces I think I look quite dashing don't you think so?" "No William, I-I mean the Apartm-AAH!" Abe clings his hand over his head, damm this- "Headache is killing you?" William slides a glass of water over with an Aspirin pill. "And no, I didn't clean the apartment, she did." Wilford looks- wait, why are you looking at me!? "Anywho, we need to get going my slightly hungover companion! But first, breakfast!" Wilford sets a serving plate down of a full English Breakfast: Sausage, an Egg, two cooked Tomatoes, Bacon rashes, Baked Beans and a slice of Buttered Toast. Wow. He didn't know William could cook? The two men got stuck in right away and the TV is turned on. Two bright and very similar faces appear on the screen "Badgers the secret Killer?... And now for the weather, Jim?"

The camera pans to, what they believe, is Jim. Their face resembles a deer in headlights. "I swear, they don't know what they're doing. It's hilarious!" The Detective says with a mouthful of Toast. Barnum laughs, wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes a swig of his Orange juice. "Right! I mean, who is their boss anyway?!" The men eat and laugh their way through their plates talking about what topics they would cover if they were reporters. After a while, they both recline back into their bar stools and the cook starts to tidy up the dirty dishes. "Oh, no, let me do it. It's the least I can do." "You're alright my man, I've got this. Besides, you need to freshen up!" "But whe-'" "First door on your left"

They share a light chuckle. "Thanks Wilford, I really appreciated that," Abe says before going back down the hallway, whilst Wilford rolls his sleeves up and starts to clean the less-silver cutlery.

He smiles. That's the first time he's ever said that to him. "No problem Abe."

~

The passenger door slams shut on the Detective's Vintage SUV and Wiford pulls out a gigantic map from his pocket. This map includes hundreds of paths scrawled with crayons and a hint of Martini can be smelt.

"Are you sure, you know where you're going?" Abe questions. Judging by what that map reads, they are going to get lost very easily.

"Of course I know where I'm going! I am Wilford Motherloving Warftsache after all." A pang of guilt hits the Detective, he genuinely can't remember who he was.

"Ok, Wil, you can drive."

After playing at least 3 rounds of rock paper scissors, or when Wilford won, Abe hesitantly let the murderer drive. God knows where though.

Wilford excitedly thrust the keys into the ignition. He couldn't wait for what the day entailed!

"Careful Willford, you're gonna break the keys!" Abe says through gritted teeth.

"Oh pah-lease! I know how to drive" he retaliates. His brown boot floors the pedal and reverses straight into the iron fence.

"Yep, it's working."

The Detectives face, now pale, grips tighter onto his seatbelt and his feet are glued to the floor. "Wil, of course it's working. Now, step on the ga- nope, that's the brakes Wilford."

Pedestrians quiver in fear as they see a horribly driven brown vehicle screech to a stop and then start again. They have to clamp down on their ears as the monster of a car drives past them down the alleyway, swerving left and right much like the driver's speech the other night.

The SUV survives to the end of the road and dents a stop sign perched, well once, straight on the kerb.

"Will, which route are we taking?" Abe asks as he takes the map from the driver's hands.

"It's the one marked Highway of Life, it's gonna be a good one, trust you me."

"Well, this has got off to a surprising start so why not go for an adventure?" Abe says. He's given up at this point.

~

"LIFE IS A HIIIGHHWWAYY! I WWAAANNNA RRIIDDEE IIT ALLL NIIGGHTT LOOOOONNGG!" The two pop stars start belting out of the car as Wilford drives them to their last stop. Who would have thought that two polar opposites positions of the law would be in the same car together, let alone blasting Disney songs out of the car.

Wilford's hair whips away from his face as the SUV's top winds down.

"LIFE NEEDS A BIT OF MADNESS EH ABE?"

"HELL YEAH IT DOES"

The Afternoon sun blazes down onto their blacked-out sunglasses and the Golden Gate bridge paints a picture for the Detective that prescribes him with a carefree attitude.

Life was his to choose and he was here for it.

~

The SUV turns off the Highway onto Richmond Street. The Afternoon sun glowing dimmer.

Just in time.

Now reader, if you haven't read my WKM Tumblr Song series, then you won't understand this next section.

The SUV passes bountiful shrubberies and picket fences. Cherry Blossom dust drift its way into the car and Wilford starts to tear up.

"You ok Buddy?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." After all his years of interrogation, Abe knows that that answer was a lie. Yet, he didn't want to push it.

The car comes to a halt and is parked underneath a summer coated oak tree.

"Why'd we stop?"

"I want to show you something."

Abe opens the vintage door and steps out. In front of him, wildflowers and grass sway on the cliffs breeze and small pink flowers grow on its edge. Overhead, a sea glistens with sunlight rays and pink and amber hues dust the sky.

Man, this is enough to make a grown man cry.

The cars driver door can be heard shutting and a shadow walks up behind him. An intimate silence roots itself between the two men.

"You may be wondering why I brought you here."

Abe nods, still looking forward, yet intriguingly listening.

The man sighs, "I used to come here all the time as a young lad. We used to have picnics and dance until dawn. We were so free up here. Away from life, away from Duty, and she was away from Him, that was all that mattered. "

His voice breaks.

"But things change, people change and suddenly, I couldn't do that anymore.

That's why I want you to see it."

Wilford wanders over to their spot and picks up one of the pink flowers sprouting through the grass.

"You may have thought of us as the scum of the Earth Detective. But there are two sides to every story."

The Detective joins the Murderer and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Wilford chuckles. The last time he was here, he was completely and utterly alone. He was like- like a freshly born fawn still trying to find his legs into this world that didn't make sense.

But now...but now things are looking a little brighter.

"If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, just name it."

"You can't do anything really, it's just the way this messed up world works."

The two friends sit down in the grass, making fresh new imprints into the cliff edge, next to two fading ones.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure" "How many people have I killed?"

...

That question lingers in the air for an uncomfortably long time. All that can be heard are the lapping of the waves below them and the occasional swallow talking in the trees.

...

"I don- don't know Wilford," Abe breaks the silence, "I should know, but I-I don't.

...

Abe looks at Wilford, his broken and tear-stained eyes manage to glance back before returning to look out at the sunset.

Abe must do something here. But what? He said himself that nothing can be done so what can he do?

He reminisces on the day they were reunited. So much anger, so much confusion. But Wil was so cheerful, not a care in the world!

Now look at him.

And it was all his fault. If only he didn't get involved...

A second flashes by and Abe does something he should have done the second Will did it.

He hugs Him.

...

"I'm sorry Will."

...

Moments cling on for seems like forever and the embrace is broken. The two tear-stained friends look up.

The afternoon sun has now gone beneath the horizon and is replaced with the all too familiar twilight scenery, which glows softly for miles and miles, each star a lantern that has been entrusted with keeping something special.

"There was another reason why I wanted to bring you here."

Wilford wipes his eyes with his sleeve. "Do you see that star, the big one?"

"Yeah" "That's the Evening Star. That Star is the reason why I have hope. And now I want to share that hope with you. I know we got off the wrong foot but since we're in the same boat now, I think it's time I opened up about where I've actually been."

Abe swallows, this man is truly broken, and he can't do anything about it.

"Thank you for trusting me." "We're not done yet. It's your turn!" "What?" "Make a wish." Cautiously, the Detective slowly stands up from his permanent grassy imprint and walks towards the cliff's edge. The man looks around and sees only patches of shrubbery and wildflowers.

And his newfound friend encouraging him to proceed.

He clasps his hands together and wishes hard. His eyes scrunch together as he becomes a child once more as well. His once tight shoulders have finally become relaxed. After so many years of searching for answers, he doesn't need to worry any more.

A single tear is swept away from the Murderers face as he watches on from the patch of grass. He remembers that feeling and the dream he wished for all those years ago. Yet now, his wish is slowly changing.

Granted, he can't remember who he was but bully does he know what he wants to be. And being here for him, at this very moment, is a wonderful way to start it.

Abe's hands fall to his side and he stares out onto the ever stretching view. His feet are glued to the spot and his mind is only fixated on that one goal. Wilford slowly joins his side, already having a hunch on what he dearly wants.

"What did you wish for?" The Murderer asks.

The Detective huckles, "Now if I told you, it wouldn't come true, would it?"

"Very true my friend."

Little did the men know that their newly found wishes were the same.

"Don't you mean, Best Friend?"

CRACK

The heartwarming moment is abruptly stopped by the sky blasting wide open and millions of sounds exploding across the cliff. The light breeze has rapidly sped up into a storm and is propelling thick gusts upon the two.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL NOW!?" Wilford yells at the hole, completely unfazed.

"YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS!?" Abe yells at his Friend.

"OF COURSE I DO, IT'S TIME FOR WORK."

"WORK!? SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A JOB!?"

"WE ALL HAVE A JOB - WE'RE ACTORS! I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING IF WE DON'T GET SPLIT UP."

"IF WE DONT GET SPLIT UP!? WHERE ARE WE GOING!?" "I HAVE NO IDEA! BUT THAT'S THE FUN OF IT! AFTER THREE, WE WALK IN."

"ARE YOU CRAZY WE'RE GONNA FALL!"

"TRUST ME, WE WON'T."

Wilford grabs Abe's hand and he stares at him. Abe stares back, fear-stricken. Finally, he nods.

"TOGETHER?" "TOGETHER."

"ONE"

"TWO"

"THREE!!!!" The two Actors charge straight over the cliff and into the blinding light.

~

Wilford finds himself in some kind of leather chair with neon lights surrounding him. A script in one and his prop gun in his other.

No pants on, no wonder he feels too comfortable.

He scans his scene and sees his co-actor, Kathryn, running her lines on the other side of the room.

A chair sits opposite him and behind that, a red T-30 minutes until showtime sign is displayed for him.

Abe, however, isn't needed on set yet. His adventure hasn't begun.

But both of their characters will have to cross at one point or another, it's just a matter of time. Yet for a fact, no one can edit their Friendship; Their Joint Wish.

Because, as they say, Life is a road that you're travelling on, when there's one day here, and the next day gone.

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

It’s that time again!

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2019 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out! 

25.) Foolishy Laying Our Hearts on the Table by @runaway-train-works (11k)

“You think Harry wants that?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten.

“Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.”

Or

The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

24.) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by @toomanydreamers (126k)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

23.) all we can do is keep breathing by @avocadolouie (310k)

“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible.

That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.

But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.

--

a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

22.) Raise a Glass to the Four of Us by @2tiedships2 (25k)

Louis stared at his luggage.

Well. Apparently not his luggage, because the clothing he was looking at currently was a: worth more than everything he currently possessed, b: not his size at all, and c: more suited for a fancy ass lawyer than a holiday in NYC with his best mates.

“Ooh, nice loafers,” Niall said as he pulled one out of the suitcase. “I love the rainbows.”

“Okay,” Liam began. “What do you want to do first? Eat, shop for new clothes, or spend hours on the phone with the airline?”

Louis continued to stare at the luggage.

21.) You Have to Retreat to Advance by @2tiedships2 (18k)

“What am I going to do, Perrie? I can’t go on this retreat by myself. My boss literally said he wants to meet my omega.” Harry paused. “Okay, not literally but he definitely expects me to be bringing him.”

“Don’t people go on these things by themselves?” Perrie asked.

Harry shrugged. “Of course but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“My boss is expecting to meet my omega! I don’t have an omega!”

“Is this a paying gig?” Perrie asked.

“You mean paying an omega to spend the weekend with me? I’m sure the resort has nice amenities. Does that count?”

“I take that as a no,” Perrie said with an eye roll. “It’s okay, Louis might be willing to do it for free.”

“Who’s Louis?”

Or the one where Harry is expected to bring his longterm omega to the company's mountain retreat. Since he hadn't told anyone that they'd broken up months ago, he now has to find someone willing to play the part.

20.) A Darker Shade of Love by LittleSpoonStyles94 (750k)

Louis is a 30 year old multi-billionaire with a very dark past. He is violent and is a sadist with a taste for pain. Harry Styles is a 19 year old student who sets out to London after being kicked out by his homophobic father to follow his dreams. He wants to go to the best University to study but he needs a lot of money so he starts to work as a part time stripper at a gay club to support his studies and his life. The club he works at, Garland's, is part owned by Louis Tomlinson. When they meet, its life changing for the both of them.

19.) You Still Make Sense to Me by @amories (37k)

Harry, Louis, and their family navigate life together through the years.

18.) Like Water Over Fire (Like Water On Fire) by @mcssymon (119k)

“I’m sorry your highness, I think I misheard you, did you really say that you are hoping to meet your husband?” Oh god, Louis panicked. Was Prince Harry gay? Was he even allowed to be gay? Surely he wouldn’t be allowed to have a selection from a group of men, right?

Prince Harry looked partly like he wanted to laugh, but also very, very nervous about what he had just admitted, “Yes, sir, you heard correctly”

Or Prince Harry has 46 men and 13 weeks to find the husband of his dreams, Louis has a limited amount to time to live out a royal fantasy. They might just be exactly what the other needs.

17.) waiting for the tides to meet by @nauticalleeds (59k)

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

16.) Call Answered by @vondrostes (249k)

The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

15.) Counterbalance by @louandhazaf (44k)

Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

14.) Everywhere and Nowhere by @2tiedships2 (16k)

Niall took a seat and said, "Apparently Louis' downstairs neighbor is a fan of giving Louis creepy gifts. Maybe I should go introduce myself and tell him that Louis actually prefers food."

"What has he given you?" Liam asked.

Louis shrugged as it were no big deal. "There was a rabbit's foot keychain on the door a little after he left from introducing himself and there was a small teddy bear sitting by my door tonight. Obviously I can't prove it's from him, but they seem to have his scent. I could be wrong though."

"Wow," Liam said, looking deep in thought. "That's old school."

"What's old school?" Niall asked. "Giving creepy gifts?"

"I've never known an alpha to do it, to be honest, but he's courting you."

Louis couldn't contain his look of disbelief directed at Liam. "He's courting me. Like some sort of romantic shit they'd do in the 1800s or something?"

13.) Swallow The Knife by whoknows (76k)

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

12.) and oh, all of your saturdays could end up in woe by ihavetoomuchfreetime (70k)

a fic in which louis' in a long-term relationship with an abusive asshole, niall, zayn and liam are so far but not really, and harry is that all too friendly guy who works in sainsbury's.

11.) thinking about the t-shirt you slept in by @absoloutenonsense (52k)

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

10.) Consequences by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

An amnesia au

9.) Strawberries & Cigarettes by @dimpled-halo (76k)

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

*

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

8.) Pain makes people change by Deidei (113k)

An organization called Canis Lupus existed solely for changing humans imprisoned in their wolf form back to their human form. Some people after experiencing some traumatic event can only ‘’protect’’ themselves from the pain by forgetting everything. To do that, to feel safe, they shift into their wolf form.

Which they'll be stuck in forever should no one intervene.

Louis Tomlison went through a traumatic experience at the age of twelve in which he lost his mother, to make the pain go away he shifted into a wolf and fled. He survived in the wild as a wolf for five years until Canis Lupis caught him... Though he wasn't alone, he had a pup at his side.

7.) Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by @angelichl (113k)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

6.) Enemies with benefits by ssii8 (267k)

Where Harry is captain of basketball team and Louis is captain of football team and they hate each other. But somehow this doesn't stop them from having sex.

And everything is perfect until they start to feel something more.

5.) Ready To Fall by whoknows (21k)

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

4.) Close to Nowhere by @angelichl (34k)

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

3.) Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl (40k)

They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.

“Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”

The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

2.) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat by @angelichl (34k)

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

1.) All My Colours by IceQueenRia (267k)

Green… yellow… red. Red! RED!!!

Some people were born Dominant and others submissive. Sixteen year old Louis Tomlinson was a submissive and was proud to be so… until he was forced to his knees for the first time. The man before him was every subs nightmare, an abusive Dom, the kind who didn’t believe in the colour ‘red’ unless it was in the form of blood.

There were others, but Louis was the ‘favourite’ and he was the one the Dom liked to ‘play with’ the most. In fact, when the rescue team arrived, Louis was the one currently providing ‘service’ to the Dom.

Or

Louis, Zayn and Niall are abused subs. Liam Payne is their devoted new Guidance Counsellor who just wants to make Niall smile and hear Zayn speak. As for Louis, he knows his guidance won’t be enough to help the boy heal. No, Louis Tomlinson needs something very special and very specific. He needs Harry Styles.

[whats-wild-to-you]

DEMONS (Jay Park AU)

[Chapter 1]

Ye-jin

“Are you trying to get killed?” Jaebeom looks at me with spite in his eyes. “I’m tired of babysitting you, you know!”

“No one asked you to. I can take care of myself!” I say through gritted teeth as the nurse treats the wound on my back. It stings. I can tell she’s inexperienced.

It’s been a month since I moved to the crime unit at the Seoul police station. My new partner, Detective Park, is the same age as me although sometimes he acts as if he’s 50. His colleagues call him grandpa for a reason. I don’t know much about him, only the stories the colleagues sometimes share over lunch. Apparently he’s been a real badass detective and a maverick in the past. Though at this point it’s just all rumors.

“Weren’t you the one who got shot at while trying to move a witness to a safe house? And you seriously stand here and scold me about going after a guy?”

“You were doing mostly desk work a month ago. You’re new to this. You need to take it easy.”

“Ugh.” I turn around, disgusted by his patronizing words. Instead I focus on the nurse, whose hands are shaking as she grabs the gauze.

“I’ll see you at the station.” I tell him, eager to end this conversation.

Jaebeom sighs extensively but leaves anyway. Later in the evening I arrive at the police station, wrapping up some paperwork.

“Who’s down for a drink?” I shout as soon as I finish my report.

“Soju?” The colleagues ask.

“Of course.”

Everyone sets off, only Jaebeom stays behind.

“You coming, grandpa?” I sneer at him.

“Someone needs to remain sober. Just in case.”

“Alright.” Walking over to his desk, I yank him off his chair. “You’re coming with me!”

I drag him to the soju bar and the whole team cheers.

“How the hell did you do it?” A colleague asks.

I shrug, filling my glass with soju and passing the bottle down.

Three hours later it’s just me, Park and Detective Oh, who transferred to the crime unit a year ago.

“You need a ride home, grandpa?” I jokingly nudge Jaebeom, losing my balance and almost falling off the chair.

“Look who’s talking!”

We all had the same amount of soju, and while Detective Oh and I are wasted, Jaebeom seems to be doing just fine.

“I can walk.” I scoff at him.

“It’s late. I’ll walk with you.”

“No need.” I say, determined to show Jaebeom that I can hold my liquor. Detective Oh bows out and stumbles towards the exit.

“Let’s go.” He orders.

Seeing as putting up a fight will piss him off even more, I resign, grab my bag and walk out. The cold air prickles on my face and I feel a headache coming on. Slowly and carefully I walk down the street. Jaebeom is walking next to me, but keeps his distance.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” I inquire.

“Got nothing to say.”

“Detective Oh said you moved to Seoul a little over two years ago? Maybe you just need to go out more? Meet people outside of work!”

I look over to him. He remains quiet, just walks straight ahead.

“My apartment complex is right around that corner there.” I explain, pointing to the intersection a few hundred meters away.

As we approach the building, my steps become slower. For some reason I don’t want us to part ways yet. I know there’s something bothering Jaebeom and I need him to trust me, his partner, and tell me what’s on his mind.

“If this is about what happened this morning…” I say meekly as we approach the entrance.

“See you tomorrow.” He cuts me off, taking a few steps back, his eyes glued on the ground.

I sigh heavily, unlocking the door, watching him leave as I disappear inside.

Jaebeom

I walk back onto the street, trying to estimate where I am and how far my apartment is. All I know is I’ve been walking in the wrong direction for over 30 minutes.

Spotting a taxi, I hail it and give the driver directions to my apartment.

When I arrive, I hastily undress on my way to the bathroom, stepping under the shower, allowing my muscles to relax under the hot water.

I step out 10 minutes later, drying my body and putting on a pair of grey sweatpants.

Usually I wouldn’t go straight to bed but tonight I feel exhausted, so I lay face down, hoping I fall asleep fast.

… the tires of my car come to a screeching halt and I open the glove compartment that contains my gun. All previous leads were dead ends but tonight, tonight I would catch him! I exit my car carefully, looking around to make sure I’m alone. Slowly I approach the back door, raising an eyebrow when I notice it’s unlocked. I enter, inching forward, my gun drawn. The corridor is dark and stuffy, there is noise coming from somewhere, although the place looks abandoned. There are several doors to my right, all of them wide open, each room empty.

There’s only one door to my left. It’s down the hallway and it’s ajar.

I smell the blood before I can see it. My adrenaline is through the roof as I slowly push the door open, revealing a woman lying unconscious on the floor. As I step closer, I see her face…

Drenched in sweat I jerk up from my nightmare. My head is throbbing and my breathing is hitched. I stumble towards the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out a can of beer. Downing it in one go, I return to bed, praying that when I close my eyes again I’ll be able to sleep.

But I have no luck as I toss and turn for over two hours. As soon as I close my eyes I see her. Lifeless eyes, face rigid and covered in blood, her naked body exposed, cuts and wounds everywhere.

I sigh and go to the kitchen again. This time I’m going to need something much stronger. When I find the whiskey I don’t bother with taking a glass, just stand by the living room window, gulping down the liquid. It burns down my throat and I hope it’ll burn any memory of that horrific nightmare.

~

My body feels heavy but light at the same time, as if I’m underwater. There’s music in the distance mixed with banging which causes my head to pound. I open my eyes but I can’t see anything. Everything is dark.

Am I dreaming again?

The banging gets louder, almost as if…

[lostonehero]

Maxie did not enjoy dwelling on his past, no not the recent past with Gyrdon and team magma, more of his childhood. Archie kept inviting him over for family events and it kept reminding him of his own family in Sinnoh. Nobody really asked they all assumed Maxie was from Honen even if he dressed weird, but that wasn't true. He never did want to go home too many bad memories.

Maxie thought back to his parents they were scientist, he had older siblings but he was never allowd to meet them, you see he was a accident he wasn't suppose to be born. His parent decided that it was great to have an extra child, Maxie didn't even get out of the womb before experimentation started. He shudders at the thoughts of the years of needles his body changing. Then he ran away at 16, he was a angry teen. Years of experiments and abuse woukd do that to him, camomile his soon to be camerupt was another pokemon he managed to escape with. He tried the gym challenge but it didn't truly appeal to him.

That's when he started to figure himself out, he liked men and that wasn't allowd so he started a protest which lead to creating a band. That was the best until the raid, he lost his arm that day and a few inches due to his spine being shattered. He lost his voice and had to wear glasses after pepper spray directly in his eyes and mouth.

He was arrested after a year of physical therapy he only arrived in Honen when he turned 23 after two years in prison. He was still angry so he started to research, maybe that is why he started team magma. He doesn't regret meeting his team and his admins they were like another family to him like his band once was.

Granted that is all over and he now sits next to Archie's father and mother they keep nudging him to ask Archie out. Maxie always refused, but he did have feelings for Archie but he was also 30 years his senior, and he didn't want Archie to bury him. He knows the only reason he survived that raid is what his parents done, and he also knows that his body is in terrible shape so he wouldn't want to put Archie in that position. Granted Archie loved his metal arm.

......

Maxie was zoning out as the conversation turned to background noise until Archie's father gave a slap to his back bringing him back to reality. "Uh yes?"

He snickers. "Archie tells me you're volunteering to help out research for us old me."

Maxie sighs "yeah it will help with my community service, I'm not expecting much its just me heading into a tube while machines buzz." He shrugs. "They didn't really explain things to me, but I don't mind because no needles."

"I see well if it works my son is still pining for you."

Maxie's face goes slightly red "its not that type of device."

Archie's father burst into laughter "ah you are easy to trase no wonder why my boy loves you."

Maxie sighs still conflicted with his feelings for Archie, that man knows barely anything about him and he is so young he doesn't deserve someone on there way out like Maxie. He frowns getting up. "Thank you for tonight but I fear I have an early morning tell everyone I left I dont want them blowing up my phone in worry for me."

He sighs and nods "Maxie im serious just give it a chance."

Maxie says nothing as he leaves

.......

Maxie enters the human sized test tube is what he is calling this. He just sighed Steven was watching excited to see the outcome. He didn't really want to think about this he wasn't really listening when they were explaining what was going to happen. Archie was also watching Maxie of course was red face since he is just in boxers.

Archie gave him a wink as the machine whirled to life. Maxie shivered feeling movement under his skin he always wanted to blame this on what happened during the raid, but he knew it was from his parents. He always hid or took care of whatever mutations he had. Call it self harm but after the raid it stopped probably due to the stress on his body. A pink and gray smoke vapor surrounds Maxie as he looses himself in his own thoughts. Until a burning hot pain enters in his lungs and he starts to cough, his vision blurs and he passes out.

.....

"...just look at him Shelly...... is this how he looked when he was younger...... I can see his muscles...... no I am not drooling."

That was Archie's voice, Maxie focused on that he remembered being in the tube then pain and then nothing. He took a deep breath and gives a heavy sigh no pain with that. Wait no pain? Maxie shot up sitting up straight. "What happened? " he studies his body something clicking in his head. "Why... no what uh where are my clothes."

"Maxie you're awake." Archie was like bouncing off the wall like an excited poochenya puppy. "So the experiment went sideways but you're ok and like 30 years younger."

Maxie was stunned he didn't know what else to say. He still had his metal arm, and he felt fine without pain, but he shivered feeling things move under his skin. "I- I uh I." His mind short circuits trying to process this.

Archie frowns. "Are you ok hot head?"

Maxie sighs smiling at that nickname. "Just let me get used to this."

.....

Its been a few weeks, and Archie cannot handle how good twenty something year old Maxie looks. He loved the older man before and now he can't stop drooling over how good he looks. Granted that hasn't stopped his concerned seeing weird things under Maxie's skin and he swore he felt horns when he messed up his hair the other day. It wasn't as if they were hurting Maxie it just looked uncomfortable.

Archie realized he knew very little about Maxie and how he grew up. He knew Maxie was from sinnoh and he used to dabble in music but thats about it. He sighs to himself he wanted to know more about his hot headed rival turned companion, but he didn't know how to start.

Maybe thats how he ended up bringing a drunk Maxie back to his place to stop him from traveling drunk this late. "Max you really need to limit yourself."

"Pshh Archie I can handle my liquor just fine." He says before puking in the bushes. "Mmh I still have no tolerance." He giggles to himself.

"Maxie I told you to limit yourself." Archie sighs this isn't the first time he has taken home a drunk Maxie. He just noticed Maxie drink more when family was brought up. He just asked if he had any siblings.

"Never met my siblings." Maxie mutters catching Archie off guard. "I was a mistake, I was never suppose to happen." He says cheerfully as of he was sharing good news. "So so so uh...." he giggles "I forgot what I was talking about."

Archie had a sinking feeling in his chest like he wasn't suppose to hear this. "Ok Max thats enough drinking for now." He knew drunk Maxie could not lie, and he also knew drunk Maxie loved to talk.

"But Archie I love you" Maxie giggles clinging onto Archie practically hanging on.

"Maxie when you're sober."

"But Archie."

"No "

Maxie pouts which looks pretty cute to Archie.

.......

Maxie woke up with a pounding headache in a familiar guest room and groans. He really needed to quit drinking. He sighs getting up heading to the bathroom and groans. Two yellow horns poked through his red hair like warning lights. He groans again holding his head knowing what this is. "Only took less then a week of being young again for the mutations to rear there ugly head." He hated what his parents made him. The only good part is that he can talk and understand his pokemon.

Archie was knocking on his door probably with clean clothes.

Maxie internally curses and grabs a towel to wrap around his head and rushes to answer the door. "Hey Archie thanks " he grabs the clothes and slams the door in Archie's face.

"Maxie why do you have horns?"

Maxie looks up and realizes in his rush the towel fell off and he sighs opening the door and pulling Archie inside forgetting how strong he is.

Archie gives a oof as he falls to the floor as the door closes.

"You can't tell anyone Archie, you just can't I haven't had time to file these down. Its only been a week in a younger body and woopdedoo my mutations are back again." He was pacing trying to calm himself.

"Maxie?"

"Im nothing but a freak thanks to them and I can't even do anything about it at least with my broken body older form my body was under so much stress no mutations had a chance to actually occur because they were so focused on keeping me alive."

"Maxie"

"And now you know and I can't just take it back. I wanted to tell you so badly because I loved you but now this and I can't stop it. I always had time to cut them off or saw off the extra stuff sure it was bloody but it worked."

"MAXIE"

Maxie stops and nearly stumbled onto himself "yes?"

"Are you ok?"

"I mean I'm not in pain if thats what you're asking."

"Maxie.... what uh er pokemon are thoes horns from? I don't recognize it?"

This question stopped Maxie he never really thought about that before. What pokemon was the mutations based on more then one? He didn't know. "I don't know?"

"Oh ok do they hurt?"

"No its like uh hair but thicker."

"Why yellow and not red to match your hair hot head?" He smirks

Maxie scowls trying to hide a smile. "I don't know Archie why do you ask stupid questions you water logged baffoon"

Archie stiffled a laugh knowing he succeeded in calming down Maxie. "Come on I'll make you breakfast, you're probably hungover."

Maxie sighs knowing he is right

[farfromparker]

Erotas - Chapter 2 | t.h.

Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader

Summary: Your cousin is getting married in Greece and you just can’t face them as the stereotypical single girl they all see you as anymore.

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Buckle up kids, we’re going to trope city. fake dating, there’s only one bed, friends to lovers, probably some others, we’ll see. Smut in future chapters. Special thanks to @worldoftom!! 💞💞

Word Count: 3.4k

In retrospect, Tom is really glad that you two have had almost a month to get this fake relationship off the ground before you have to put on a show in front of your family for a week. Because now he knows about your eccentric uncle who only talks politics and sports so the only safe subject is football. He knows your cousin, the one who’s getting married, is going to be more interested in the two of you than her own wedding. So your story has to be straight. He knows your mum is going to hug him and hug him and hug him some more. He knows that your dad will give him the stereotypical if you hurt my daughter speech but will then buy him drinks all weekend. 

It’s also given him time to get to know you, like really know you. He always liked you, he knew he would the first time Harrison told him about you. Haz never got excited about girls until he was in way too deep. So for him to tell Tom about you after a week of hanging out, Tom knew this was different. He was sure Harrison was going to ask you out, but he never did. He’d just get drunk and ramble on about how the two of you were his best friends. That he trusted you both with his life. And so it was easy for Tom to like you too, to trust you. 

But now, Tom is getting to spend time with you one on one, away from Harrison, away from Harry, away from your friends. He’s learning your idiosyncrasies, your likes and dislikes, what makes you tick. And he’s finding out more and more as to why it had only taken a week for Harrison to let you into his circle. 

There was one set back though. Spending this much time with you wasn’t helping the small crush he’d been harboring for you since you’d met last year. He’d always thought you were cute but in the beginning, he was sure Harrison was gonna make a move. He didn’t, of course, but you were always closer to him rather than Tom. So that’s all it was, a school boy crush. 

And he’d had his fair share of girls come and go. Nothing serious and he knows that if he actually put in the effort, he could find someone he really liked, someone that he’d want to spend time with but… Maybe he enjoyed your company more.  

And so what, he’d rather get drunk with you and Harrison than pull a girl. That didn’t mean anything, you two were just his best friends. End of story. 

Right. End of story.  

“Humor me?” you plead, eyes a little bleary from the amount of pints the two of you have knocked back, but your arms are outstretched to his across the pub table, thumbs rubbing across the back of his hands. You’re doing that thing with your bottom lip too, and Tom can’t say no.

“Okay.” He smiles, turning his hands up so that you can play with his fingers. 

“How did we meet?”

He deadpans for a moment but straightens up when you glare at him. “We met how we really met, through Harrison.”

“Kay but you can’t say it like that!” You laugh, taking your hands away so you can take a drink. Tom leaves his hands out though, open like you had left them, hoping. You set your glass down and reach for him again, rubbing gently at the pads of his fingers. He smiles softly. “Now, say it to me like you’re gonna say it to my family.”

He clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to make an act of it. You roll your eyes. “Met her through my mate Haz, he wouldn’t stop talking about her and when I first met her, I understood why. She’s so warm and genuine. Didn’t take me long to fall for her.”

You smile, squeezing his hands. “That was perfect, you make me sound like a nice person.” 

He laughs. “You are a nice person.”

You glance down at his hands in yours, smirking. 

“Okay, how long after we met did you ask me out? How’d it happen?”

He chews on his lip, fighting a smile. “I didn’t ask you out, you asked me out. Demanded it really, we were a little drunk at home, right after Valentine’s day and you wouldn’t stop playing with my hair, not that I wanted you to. And when I looked at you, you just said you should be my boyfriend and I nodded, albeit a little sour that I didn’t work up the courage to ask you first. But happy to finally have you.”

It only made sense to keep your fake relationship as close to your real relationship as possible, the less chance for errors the better. He lets you continue to quiz him, asking questions as if you were a member of your family. You had him do it too, run through the list of things any real girlfriend would know about her real boyfriend. 

It’s just past midnight when he finally pries you out of the pub. Your flight is tomorrow and he knows that’s why you want to keep drinking, why you already drank so much. That anxious energy drowns when there’s that much beer involved. You stumble out onto the sidewalk. He wraps his arm around your waist to keep you upright. It’s finally starting to warm up, but the nights are still cool. He can feel the goosebumps across your arm and he rubs his hands against your skin to warm you.  

It’s a quick walk back to your place, barely ten minutes, but Tom has to help you find your key and after some heavy fumbling on your part, he persuades you to let him have it so he can unlock your front door. 

Harrison is in the kitchen, he’s got a girl over and Tom can hear her laughing. Harrison peeks his head around the corner and smiles when he sees the two of you.

“Have fun tonight?” he asks, smirking as he takes in your appearances. Tom’s arm is still around your waist and you’ve curled into his side slightly, hanging off him more.

“So much fun, Tom’s the best boyfriend ever,” you slur, poking Tom in the chest. “Aren’t you?” you ask, voice raising an octave. And it’s stupid how much he loves hearing you call him that, boyfriend. 

“Right, time for bed, love,” Tom says, laughing quietly, guiding you past the curious eyes in the kitchen and back towards your bedroom. You shuffle out of his grasp and over to the bed, turning on the lamp on your bedside table and dropping down onto the mattress as you fiddle with your jeans to get them off. Tom stiffens, turning away from you. 

“I’ll get you some water,” he says over his shoulder, leaving the room to give you some privacy. 

He returns a little later, taking longer than necessary to fill the glass. He didn’t want to walk in on anything, especially when you weren’t sober, so he lingers for a second. He’s excited about Greece, about spending so much time with you. And maybe… well, maybe he’s a little hopeful as well.

Finally heading back towards your room, he lets his thoughts wander a bit before he jinxes everything from thinking too much about the what if’s. He finds you cuddled up under your blankets, baggy sleep shirt on. Clothes worn during the day discarded on the floor by your bed.

He walks over to you and sets the glass on your nightstand. You watch him, a soft smile on your lips and he sits on the edge of the bed when you reach for him. 

“I’m nervous. About tomorrow, about my family...” you trail off, eyes wide and vulnerable.

He links your fingers together. “No need to be, darling, we’ll be great. I’ve got you.” 

“Kiss me.” 

Tom’s brows furrow. He hadn’t kissed you, or rather, you hadn’t kissed him since that first day. Not that there hadn’t been opportunities, but both of you had agreed that wasn’t something that needed to be worked on. The first time was out of the way, any other kisses thereafter should be cake. At least, that was your reasoning. 

“What? No—”

“Kiss me and make me believe it. I need to know we can do this, Tom.” And you sound sober, but he’s not stupid. You’re not even close to being in your right mind right now and he’s not going to kiss you like this. 

“No. I’ll—”

“Tom, please.” 

“No! Look, love, you’re not sober,” Tom reasons. “If you need me to kiss you to believe that we can do this, I’ll kiss you when I pick you up tomorrow for the airport. When you’re sober.” 

You huff, pout resembling that of a five year old that just got their favorite toy taken away. He smiles, reaching to push some stray hair off your face. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, okay? I’ll be here right at nine o’clock. I promise.” He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back gently. He turns the light off and after he takes a second to watch you settle under the covers, he closes the door quietly. 

You’re asleep before he leaves the apartment. 

+

Your head is pounding when you wake up, the light that’s coming in through your curtains is way too bright. You groan, rolling over to look for your phone. It’s plugged in, face up on your nightstand and you definitely didn’t do that. There’s a glass of water next to it and you reach for it, swallowing down most of it in record time. You touch the screen and it lights up, there’s three missed calls and ten text messages, but what catches your eye is that it’s almost 8:30.

“Shit!” 

You stumble out of bed, stripping out of your clothes to get in the shower, definitely still smelling the alcohol on your breath. You scrub through your hair as best you can, dowsing it in conditioner to get the tangles out. You’re drying off when your phone rings again. You glance at it, Tom’s name on the screen.

You answer it quickly, putting it on speakerphone. 

“You’re alive!” he says, sounding bubbly and overwhelming happy considering how much your head is still pounding. 

“Barely,” you grumble, pulling your jeans on. 

“I’ll be there in 15, you gonna be ready?”

You glance around the room, it’s in complete disarray and you’ve barely started packing. But your dress for the wedding is already in Greece, thanks to your mum, so you really only need a swimsuit, some comfy clothes and your toiletries.

“Yeah,” you quip, confident you could do this. You can die on the plane later, but right now, you need to focus. 

Ten minutes later and you’re piling your bags in the living room. Proud that you got it all. You scribble a quick Love you, be good note to Harrison. There’s a vague memory of a girl being here last night and you don’t want to walk in on anything. You’ll see him in a week anyway. 

There’s a knock on the door and you know it’s Tom. You do a quick survey of the living room and when you’re satisfied you’ve got everything, you open the door. 

“Good morning,” he chimes, eyeing you for a moment. “I suppose you’re sober now.” 

You glance at him, brows furrowing for a moment, “Sober? Yes, but I feel like I’ve come back from the dead.”  

And that’s the affirmation he’s looking for. He steps into your space, cupping your jaw and waiting for you to stop blinking. Your quick nod gives him the okay to do this, so he kisses you, hard. Lips moving against yours and then he’s opening your mouth with his tongue. A shiver runs down your spine when you touch his tongue with yours, melting into his hold, you reach for his waist to steady yourself, getting lost in the feeling of it.

He pulls away quickly after that, leaving your mouth popped open. 

“Think your family will believe us now?” 

You swallow, blinking slowly. “Yeah, yeah, I think that’ll convince ‘em.”

He smirks, thrilled to have left you a little speechless. He grabs your bags and you follow him out the door, locking up behind you. 

Once you get in the car, you have a moment to go through your phone. Tom pulls out, heading for the airport as you investigate. The three missed calls were your mum, Tom, and your mum, in that order. The texts were all family, three from your cousin about how excited she is to see you, to meet your boyfriend, and the final one of holy shit I’m getting married in 4 days! Six of the ten were from your mum, reminding to pack this, check this, bring that, you don’t need this. Right, well, too late for any of that. 

The last text is from your dad, don’t forget you need your hotel reservation number. And, oh, that one’s actually important. “Shit, do you still have the reservation number for our hotel room?” you ask, glancing at Tom. 

He hesitates. “You texted that to me, and didn’t your dad text it to you? Why don’t you have it anymore?”

“I deleted all my messages yesterday. I wanted to make room in my phone for photos this week and I communicate a lot through the use of gifs. Do you know how much space those things take up?”

He looks at you sideways, crease deep between his eyebrows. “What kind of psychopath deletes their text messages? What if you need receipts?” 

You laugh. “You of all people would say something like that.” 

He smirks. “Here, look in my phone.” He hands you his, unlocking it quickly. You go to his messages, finding your conversation at the top. You notice he’s got a picture of the two of you saved as your contact photo, along with a swirling heart emoji after your name. Your trademark emoji. You recognize the photo instantly. 

It was from one of the first few times you’d hung out with Tom, at your favorite spot just down the road from your and Harrison’s place. Both of you were a couple of drinks in when the picture was taken, but you both still look cute, tipsy but happy. You had been saying how we should all take more pictures with people we love and enjoy being with. To capture moments, to remember them more vividly than we can in our minds. Haz had made fun of you for being so deep while drunk, but Tom had agreed, resonating with your words. And to prove it, he’d opened the camera on his phone and started taking pictures, pictures of you, of Harrison, of the three of you together, and finally, of just the two of you. 

You’re wrapped around him, a tell tale sign of how much alcohol had been ingested by this point, arm around his neck, cheek pressed against his, both of you smiling so big your eyes are crinkled. Fondness washes over as you remember that night. 

Getting back to the task at hand, you scroll up through your conversation, finding the reservation number and texting it to yourself again.

“Thanks,” you say, setting his phone down in the center console. “I like my contact picture by the way, and the emoji, nice touch,” you point out, going through your phone to make the same changes to his contact.

“Oh.” He laughs nervously. “I had your contact like that before all this.”

You glance at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Well, the picture anyway, the heart emoji was a recent addition — a new addition. I mean, for this. Yeah.”

He’s so cute when he gets flustered. “I understood what you meant,” you reassure him, eyes on your phone, a small smile playing on your lips.

The rest of the morning passes as if it were a movie set on fast forward; driving, parking, checking your bags, security. It feels like you blinked and suddenly you’re standing at your gate, staring at the location board, Santorini, Greece, glaring back at you.  

And you think about what’s waiting for you on that island. Your family and their expectations. You were older than your cousin, but she had been in a relationship since she was 18. You on the other hand… There were multiple nights spent drinking with family were the running joke was how many cats you’d wind up with. And you’d have to laugh, fighting off the knot in your chest, the sting behind your eyelids as you forced a smile and pretended it didn’t bother you. 

You could always feel the pressure when they asked about your love life. Seeing anyone? Anyone special in your life? How’s your dating life going? You could also feel the disappointment roll off of them in waves when your answers were No, No one, Nothing special. Because if you didn’t have a partner in your life, what were they supposed to talk with you about? Your job? Your hobbies? Your friends? 

Why would they want to know about any of that… 

That thought alone was enough to push you to blurt out at lunch that day that you wouldn’t be going to this wedding alone. It was stupid to let them eat at you like this, you’re smart enough to know that. But not strong enough to fight it off. 

You find a seat, having gone quiet as your thoughts scream in your mind. Tom disappears and you don’t blame him, you wouldn’t want to be around you right now either. He’d said something about finding some breakfast. 

He shows back up as you get up to board. He’s got a bag full of breakfast food, you can smell it. You ignore the way your stomach grumbles. You should have gone with him, but you were too much in your head to make a useful decision at the time. 

You board slowly, quietly, watching people flitter around to find their seats, stow their luggage, until you get to your row. Tom steps ahead, turning back to you, “Take the window, I’ll sit in the middle.”

You smile at him softly, appreciating the small gesture, and slide into your seat, stuffing your purse under the seat in front of you. Tom settles in next to you, putting his seat belt on before digging into the bag. 

“I know fast food isn’t ideal, but it was the best I could find with so little time,” he begins, offering you a breakfast sandwich. “I think it’s the kind you like,” he continues, extending his hand to you. 

And it’s stupid how emotional you suddenly feel over a mere sandwich, over him letting you sit by the window. But the overwhelming sensation of being surrounded by your family for a week has been eating at you. Then as you look at him, his warm, brown eyes searching yours, a lopsided smile on his lips, you can’t help but think how grateful you are that he’s going to be there with you through this. He’s not your boyfriend, but he is your friend, someone you’ve grown so close to in the last few weeks that there’s a flow of relief you feel just from being close to him, to having his eyes on you, his smile directed at you. 

You lean in, pressing your lips to his cheek and he’s still smiling when you pull back.

“What was that for? Or do you really just love breakfast sandwiches?” he jokes, eyes lighting up as he teases you. 

You smirk, taking the food from him and setting it in your lap. “I do love a good breakfast sandwich. But that was just for you being here, for agreeing to do this with me, for being a friend.”

He tilts his head. “You don’t have to thank me for being a friend, darling. Or for doing this with you. I know how much this has been stressing you out. I can see how anxious you are about all of this. But like I said last night, I’ve got you. And I mean that.” 

You hesitate for a moment, studying his face, the sincerity in his eyes, and then you lean in, pressing your lips softly to his. It’s delicate, and it feels right. He’s smiling at you when you pull away and you can see the blush on his cheeks. “Sorry, felt appropriate,” you say focusing on the sandwich in your lap. 

He reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “It was.”

Taglist:

@xximaweirdoxx @selfcarecapmain @billythebully09 @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @honeymarvel @lovinnholland​ @oh-annaa @little-miss-naill @holland-in-disguise​ @wordless08 @multifandomgirl-us @fangirlfree @theolwebshooter @headlights95 @thirsttrapholland @ablazeofhope @hazmyheart @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @afterglownights @hollandbitch @delicately-important-trash @parkersvibes @averyfosterthoughts @mskatharinawho @crazyfreaker @thsummersoldier @lolobxtch @peterparkoure @hpnjrph @likeit-or-leaveit

[rise-above-the-grave]

beware stained glass shards

for @dekusmynamecryingsmygame​. you said angst was fine, so uhhhh have some mf-ing erasermic angst I guess. please note that a) I am brand new to this fandom and am still figuring out headcanons and characterizations. hopefully I didn’t screw anything up too bad in that regard...but if I did, please at least be gentle in your critique :’)... b) I wrote this in...about 4 hours, all completely after midnight. it’s not gonna be my best work :/ but I did my best! and I wanted to get this up asap so you could see and read it sooner rather than later.

tw for: canon-typical injuries, hospitals (and everything that goes along with hospitals like doctors, nurses, surgeries, etc.), some implied (it’s only implied!! and it’s super duper uber vague) nsfw stuff, and an off-screen (debatable; maybe-it-was, maybe-it-wasn’t) suicide attempt. (was it a suicide attempt or a villain attack? I don’t even know myself! - at least not yet. read it however you wanna read it. I purposefully leave it open for interpretation.)

and if you don’t wanna read it because of that even potential suicide attempt, lemme know and I’ll write you something else, Peachy... alkdsjflkjdsf unfortunately I have a bad case of “I didn’t think this through” after midnight, and I didn’t even think of that possibility until I was basically done writing it. at that point I was like “It’s 5:30 and I need to sleep, I might as well post this on the off chance they do want to read it...” if you don’t wanna read it tho lemme know and again, I’ll write ya something else tomorrow <3

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

He falls.

There is lightning, there is thunder, there is rain—and for an instant (a second, a heartbeat, a breath), he is a swallow, a sparrow, a falcon. He flies with invisible wings, the air is caught beneath him and above him and before him, the world spreads out into infinity below the raindrops hanging suspended in the air. The lightning gilds his dark hair in quicksilver, the thunder that follows an instant later shakes his bones, and the rain that drives him to the earth soaks his clothes into a second skin.

He falls, the asphalt of the alley that runs beneath the comet of his body rising nearer and nearer in a rapid sequence that he thinks, distantly, should be alarming.

I should be afraid, he thinks.

This is going to hurt, he thinks.

Hizashi—

And then there is pain, and there is fear, and there is darkness gilt by lightning, silence shrouded by thunder, blood watered by rain.

---

Yamada Hizashi is 22, desperate, and dangerous.

He is older than he thought he would ever be. When he was young, he had imagined himself living to the infinite age of 50. He would look at himself in the mirror hanging in the bathroom, fingers combing through hair he imagined going silver, palms smearing smooth skin he imagined going wrinkled and weather worn. He would pluck at the band t-shirts he’d wear under too-hot, too-heavy jackets with fidgety hands, wondering what he’d wear then.

I’m gonna be a hero! he’d told his moms, and when they laughed and hugged him and told him, You’re going to be the best hero there is!, he believed himself immortal, invincible, inevitable.

And he was. He was immortal, invincible, inevitable. He could be hurt, he could be beaten, he could be knocked down. But no matter what—no matter the pain, the struggle, the difficulty—he healed, and he fought until he was victorious, and he stood back up. No one could keep him down. No one could diminish him. No one could threaten his impenetrable view of the future.

And then—and then Oboro. And it had all crashed down around him, like so many shards of shattered stained glass.

With Oboro goes his heart. His future. His eternity. He is taught, with the sharpness of stone, with the heaviness of rubble, with the choking taste of dust, that death lurks in the most innocent of shadows, that pain waits in the wings of the theater, that certainty is a lodestone chained around your neck.

Nothing is certain. Not everything can heal. No one is invincible.

He stops thinking he’ll live to 50.

He stops thinking he’ll live past 20.

“Fuck you,” he spat, and Shouta flinched as if he’d been struck, the Happy birthday that had been on his lips dying a silent, painful death. “Fuck everything.” Without warning—without even fully processing what he intended to do; he just hurt, and he needed something, someone, to hurt with him—Hizashi threw his tumbler against the wall behind the bar. The shelf the tumbler hit broke, and a cascade of bottles and liquor crashed to the floor in so many shard of glass and fragments of dreams and spreading rivers of blood.

There was a shout, and then Hizashi felt Tensei’s and Nemuri’s hands on his shoulders, heard Shouta’s voice sounding unusually placating and apologetic as he spoke to the bartender who had rushed over.

“Get him out of here,” Shouta snapped a few seconds later, turning and looking straight at him with death in his eyes. For an instant, Hizashi almost felt guilty. Then Tensei and Nemuri were dragging him away from the counter, away from the gathering crowd, away from the bar.

“Idiot,” Tensei muttered as Hizashi listed against him in the alley behind the bar, all at once too drunk and too sober to function.

“Idiot,” Nemuri sighed, guiding him into the cab, buckling the seatbelt across his chest and waist and then letting him collapse against her shoulder.

“Idiot,” Shouta hissed at him as he undressed him and shoved him unkindly into bed.

He stops thinking he’ll live—and so he stops caring. He drinks too much. Eats too little. Throws himself into his work with a single-minded mania.

His relationship with Shouta suffers. They grate, like two broken ends of a once-whole bone, the nerve that is Oboro’s death still laid bare between them. Shouta can’t sleep without Hizashi in his bed; Hizashi can’t sleep unless he’s alone. Hizashi drinks to drown his memories, his emotions, his pain; Shouta tries to starve his out. They argue about it, until Shouta erases Hizashi’s quirk and Hizashi throws a punch—about Shouta’s energy pouches, about Hizashi’s whiskey. About the lights Hizashi wants to leave on at night. About the socks on the floor inside the door. About the uncapped toothpaste left by the bathroom sink. About the half-eaten takeout sitting in the fridge. About the nights Shouta will disappear without warning, without a trace. About—

Hizashi wonders if it is his fault the day Shouta walks out, slamming the door behind him.

Shouta doesn’t come back.

Hizashi drinks more. Eats less. Works harder. Does anything, anything to distract himself from the event horizon opening inside his chest.

I’ve lost my best friend, he thinks, curled up alone and unable to sleep in a bed that had once held two.

For the first time in years, he wishes someone was sleeping beside him.

It is dangerous. He knows this—knows the risks, knows that the rewards are negligible compared to the ruin it could bring him. His career is on the line. His future hangs by a thread.

Hizashi doesn’t care.

He isn’t going to live past 21 anyway.

Only a few of his partners know who he is. Those that do keep silent. It is never wise to paint a target on your back, and Hizashi makes it clear that he doesn’t want a relationship, isn’t looking for a connection—that there is no reason for them to think there is anything between them but drunken carnality.

He learns fast how to duck cameras—and how to attract them. He learns how to avoid reporters, except when he wants to talk. He learns how to sidetrack paparazzi with glamour shots. He finds he is good at this game of chess, of Russian Roulette, of cards built into fragile palaces. He is good with people, good with crowds, good with playing the symphony’s strings.

I’d make a damn good villain, he thinks one night before he drifts off to sleep, a cute blond whose name he can’t remember already asleep beside him.

And then he thinks of Shouta—of Eraserhead—and the guilt he’d swallowed eight months before, when Shouta had walked out and left nothing but empty shadows where he’d been, threatens to choke him. He barely makes it to the bathroom before he vomits, bile tasting of too-much alcohol and too-little food, of regret and shame.

What am I doing? he thinks, leaning his forehead against cool porcelain.

“Are you okay?” the cute blond asks. He stands in the door to the bathroom and looks down at Hizashi with concern in his pale eyes.

“Get out,” Hizashi says, not looking up.

“But—”

“Just—just go.” And then, softly, voice breaking halfway through the only syllable that matters, “Please.”

The cute blond leaves, and Hizashi is left totally, utterly alone.

---

“You’re listed as his emergency contact.”

Hizashi stares at the window overlooking the city and sees nothing but smears of too-bright light against a stormy night. Sees nothing but the unknown caller ID flashing up on his phone screen after its ringing had woken him. Sees nothing but the memory of Shouta’s face just before he’d turned away and stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

What had they even been fighting about? Hizashi can’t remember.

“I’ll be right there,” Hizashi says, unsticking his throat just long enough to remember what he’s supposed to say.

The line clicks dead, and Hizashi stumbles blindly out of bed and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He throws on a jacket, a pair of boots, a set of headphones. Ties his hair up in a bun to keep it out of his face and, hopefully, dry once he pulls the hood of his jacket over his head.

The trip to the hospital is spent in a haze of emotion, fear, and dread. He can’t parse any of it, though. Can’t understand it, give voice to it, give structure to it. All he knows is that he is feeling, and that he is afraid, and that he is certain that the scythe has finally fallen once again—only once again it hasn’t come to reap his life.

The hospital is bright against the rain-swept night, clean and sharp and stinging. Hizashi feels bad about the mud he tracks in, feels bad about the water he drips on the floor, feels bad about the lingering scent of gel and hairspray that seems to hang around him no matter what shampoo he uses.

He tells them who he is, who he is here to see. The nurse helping him looks at Hizashi with a curious expression that he is too strung out to try to interpret, and then leads him down a maze of white corridors that he knows he will never remember. They stop outside a door in the ICU, and the woman rests a hand on his forearm and says something Hizashi does not hear. Then she opens the door, and Hizashi steps into the room.

Shouta is unconscious on a bed, surrounded by machines. His chest rises and falls with intubated breath, and two IVs are hooked into the backs of his hands. His eyes are closed beneath the purple and black bruising shadowing his face, and Hizashi can just see more bruising peering out above the bandages swathing his chest.

“How—” He chokes, unable to form the words that he needs to say.

“We don’t know,” the nurse says. “He was found in an alley by a couple of drunk college students. We think he fell.”

“Fell?” Hizashi repeats dumbly. “But he never falls.”

The nurse is silent. Whatever she is thinking, she does not share with Hizashi.

For that, Hizashi is grateful.

“Is he going to make it?”

“We don’t know,” the nurse admits. “He has to stabilize before we can use any healing on him. If he survives the night, his prognosis will be good—but it’s a big “if”.” She hesitates, then says, “It’s a good thing you came.”

Hizashi moves to sit in the chair pulled up to Shouta’s bedside and sinks into it. He does not see the nurse watch him with concern—does not hear her pager go off a few minutes later. He does not even notice when she disappears through the door, or when the door clicks shut behind her.

For a long time, Hizashi is silent. There is too much to say—too much he needs to say, too much he wants to say, too much he can’t say. The words sit heavy on his tongue, in his throat, behind his teeth. They are stones in his stomach, glass in his lungs, thorns in his heart.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

He laughs weakly.

“You always did have a way of leaving me speechless, Sho,” he says at last. His voice is a clap of thunder in the silence of the room.

Hizashi sighs and buries his face in his hands.

“Please wake up,” he whispers through his fingers. “There’s so much I have to tell you. So much you have to know. Like, you have to know that I—I’m sorry. For…for everything.”

He swallows. His throat constricts, and his breath comes in shaky gasps.

“I can’t lose you too,” he says to his palms, because looking at Shouta is too much. His voice is hoarse and barely audible and pleading. “Please, Sho…”

The machines beep. The vents rattle. Shouta’s false breath hisses.

And Shouta doesn’t wake, even when Hizashi begins to cry.

---

Hizashi is asleep when the doctor comes in, just after dawn. He startles awake at the sound of the door closing, blinking blearily and turning his head to stare at the tall, dark man. The doctor smiles at him, and goes to check on Shouta.

He had survived the night. That much, at least, is a relief.

“We still don’t know,” the doctor warns Hizashi. “But we can start to be hopeful.”

They take him away for another surgery. This time, they promise Hizashi, a healer will be involved.

Hizashi stands, stretches, and goes in search of food. He finds the cafeteria, and buys a meager breakfast that smells bad and tastes worse. When he looks at his phone, he sees that he has missed calls from both Tensei and Nemuri. He shuts it off and shoves his phone back into his pocket to deal with later.

He’s going to have to call his agency soon, too, but he has a few minutes until that call is critical.

He spends a quarter of an hour sitting at the hard, plastic table in the cafeteria, staring out of the window at the overcast morning and thinking. He thinks about what he is going to say if—when—Shouta wakes up. He thinks about what he is going to say to Nemuri and Tensei. He thinks about his choices, and about the certainty of death, and about the possibility of life.

He thinks about Oboro, and about Shouta, and about how he lost one and how he might lose the other.

Hizashi stands, shoving his chair back so hard it topples onto the floor with a bang. What few others are in the cafeteria stare at him with varying degrees of irritation and wariness, until he rights the chair and walks away with a casual wave of apology.

He calls Tensei.

Tenya is running around in the background, laughing maniacally, and Tensei is distracted during the call in spite of his concern. He promises to come by the hospital when he can, though, and tells Hizashi to call Nemuri. Hizashi promises he will, and hangs up.

Nemuri is unusually quiet as Hizashi tells her what he knows of what happened, and while he tells her that Shouta is back in surgery. When at last she speaks, she only says, “You were still his emergency contact.” It is not a question. It is barely an observation. More than anything, it is a revelation.

“I guess so,” Hizashi says, cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he feeds a bill into one of the vending machines. His breakfast had been bland, and he wants sugar.

They talk for another few minutes about nothing in particular, and as Hizashi unwraps his candy bar and begins to eat, he is struck with the notion that Nemuri is just trying to distract him. He appreciates it. Before long, though, she hangs up with a quick goodbye, and a promise to come to the hospital after her last patrol.

Hizashi crumples the empty wrapper and tosses it into a trash bin, and wanders his way back toward Shouta’s room.

He calls his agency once he is seated by Shouta’s still-empty bed. He tells them there was a family emergency, and that he will not be able to patrol today. They are surprisingly accepting of his feeble excuses, and Hizashi wonders if someone else had already contacted them. Probably Tensei, he decides. That was always the kind of thing Tensei thought of.

His phone calls made, Hizashi settles uncomfortably into the hard, plastic chair to wait for Shouta to be brought back. He tries not to think. He mostly fails.

He thinks of Shouta. He thinks of Oboro. He thinks of invincibility, and of shattered stained glass, and of birthdays. He thinks of a broken shelf of liquor bottles. He thinks of screaming at Shouta in their apartment, so angry he’s lost control, and of Shouta silencing him with a red-eyed stare. He thinks of broken promises, and broken hopes, and broken dreams.

They bring Shouta back in sometime around noon. He is still unconscious, but he looks a little better than he had the night before. The bruising is lighter—more red and purple than black and purple—and he is breathing on his own. Some of his color has returned as well, though he was never anything but pale.

The nurses leave again, after telling Hizashi things he does not hear, his attention fixed on Shouta to the exclusion of all else. He wonders, vaguely, as he feels them leave the room, if they had figured that out, or if they had just finished telling him what they had to say.

The seconds drag into minutes as Hizashi waits, the minutes into hours. Hizashi sits, stiff and sore, in the chair by Shouta’s bedside, watching his chest move beneath the bandaging, watching his eyes flicker beneath his eyelids. He wonders what Shouta dreams of.

The doctor comes in again. Leaves again. Hizashi ignores him.

Nemuri comes, but does not stay long. She talks, and Hizashi listens with half an hear, saying nothing as she tells him about her day, about her night, about everything but her worry over Shouta. It’s there, though, lurking beneath every strained story, every forced laugh, every brittle word.

Nemuri is older than him and Shouta and Tensei—but, like Tensei, she had found them adrift in the wake of Oboro’s death, and like Tensei she had decided, “These are mine, now.” Hizashi is grateful for it most days.

It is only after Nemuri stands and presses a kiss to Hizashi’s cheek in farewell that he speaks.

“They think he fell,” Hizashi says, not looking anywhere but Shouta’s face. Nemuri freezes.

“But he never falls.”

“I know.”

“Do you think—”

“I don’t know what I think,” Hizashi says, short and sharp. “And neither do you.”

Nemuri hesitates. Then says simply, “Okay.” She leaves without another word.

---

Tensei visits for an hour, and when he leaves he promises to return later in the evening so that Hizashi can run home to shower and change clothes. Hizashi agrees without really knowing what he’s agreeing to.

Night has just well and truly fallen when Shouta’s eyes flicker, then open. He looks around, taking in the lights and the ceiling and walls—and then his eyes fall on Hizashi, and he freezes.

“Hey,” Hizashi says.

Shouta turns his eyes away and stares up at the ceiling.

“Uh,” Hizashi says, feeling suddenly awkward and tongue-tied. “Thanks for leaving me as your emergency contact.”

Shouta grunts. Hizashi wonders if he can even talk right now, or if it’s too painful.

“Look, Sho…” Hizashi grimaces. “Shouta,” he corrects.

Shouta looks at him again, eyes flicking over to his face. Hizashi rubs the back of his neck, and tries to figure out how to say what he wants to say.

“I know this is a bad time,” he says finally. “But I have to say this before the doctors come rushing in, and before you get up the strength to kick me out.” Shouta’s eyes narrow at him, but Hizashi isn’t looking at him anymore—is staring, instead, at the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “For…” He takes a deep breath. “For everything.”

Shouta looks back at the ceiling, and does not speak.

Hizashi calls the nurses. They come quickly, and Hizashi excuses himself from the room so that they can fuss over Shouta in peace. By the time they are done, Tensei is back, and Hizashi finds himself kicked out of the hospital until he has showered, changed, and eaten a full meal. He agrees to the terms grudgingly, but only because the memory of Shouta not even being willing to look at him is still fresh in his mind.

It haunts him as he showers, as he changes, as he walks to a small take-out restaurant a few blocks from his apartment and places his order. He wonders if he should even go back to the hospital, or if Shouta would prefer it to just be Tensei there.

He almost decides he would.

Tensei calls him just as he’s finishing his dinner, though.

“You on your way back?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Hizashi says, because he can’t quite bring himself to be selfless enough to say no.

---

Shouta is still awake when Hizashi walks into the room again. He looks at Hizashi when he opens the door and steps inside, then looks away again before he can close it. Tensei notices the silent exchange with a pensive look, but says nothing.

“Well,” he says, standing, “I have to go. I’m babysitting Tenya again tomorrow morning, and that little monster drains more out of me than twenty villains.” The soft smile on his lips belies the cutting words, though, and Hizashi knows that Tensei would give the world to his little brother if given the chance.

“Thanks,” Hizashi says, and claims the chair Tensei had just vacated.

Silence fills the room in the wake of Tensei’s departure, heavy and awkward and uncomfortable. Hizashi looks everywhere but at Shouta. Shouta stares at the ceiling.

“I…” Hizashi begins at last, entirely uncertain where he means to go with his next sentence but knowing he can’t bear the silence any longer.

A sigh cuts him off. Then, abruptly, in a ragged voice, Shouta says, “I’m sorry.”

Hizashi finally looks at him, startled. “For what?”

“For…everything,” Shouta says. “For walking out. For not being there for you. For ignoring you when you needed me.”

“Shouta, I…” Hizashi swallows hard. “I dug my own grave. I don’t expect you to dig me out. I never have.”

“Maybe that’s your problem,” Shouta whispers. “Our problem.”

Hizashi frowns. “What happened, Sho?” he asks suddenly. “How did you fall?”

“Someone pushed me,” Shouta says without hesitation. “I didn’t see them until it was too late.”

For the first time in seven years, Hizashi isn’t sure if Shouta is lying.

“Okay.” The word tastes like ash on Hizashi’s tongue, but there is nothing else he can say. Not now, anyway. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Shouta is silent again, but it is a different kind of silence. Hizashi waits, knowing he is preparing to say something. At last, after a few heavy moments of pregnant waiting, Shouta says, “Can we start over?”

Hizashi looks at him, surprised. “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible,” he tells Shouta.

“Maybe,” Shouta agrees. “But…try again, then.”

For the first time in over a day, Hizashi smiles. “Yeah,” he says. Then, again, “Yeah. I’d…like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Shouta nods, just a little, against the pillow behind his head. He closes his eyes.

“Will you be here?” he asks, voice already thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” Hizashi says, knowing what he’s asking. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Shouta nods again, eyes still closed, and in seconds his breathing evens out into a soft, sleepy cadence.

Hizashi settles back into his uncomfortable chair, preparing for another long night of half-conscious sleep. It’ll be worth it, though, he thinks. Anything is worth having my best friend back.

And for the first time since the stained glass of his invincibility shattered, Hizashi thinks that maybe, just maybe—if Shouta is at his side—he’ll see his 25th birthday. Maybe even his 30th.

Maybe even his 50th.

[kaaras-adaar]

Kaaras and Stenn

// Before Kaaras’ romance during Inquisition, he’s only ever been in one serious relationship. I wanted to talk more about who that was, so--

Meet Stenn (now that I have pics of him!):

Stenn is a Tal’Vashoth warrior, who was a Sten under the Qun. He was a fair few years older than Kaaras, in his 30′s when they met (Kaaras was in his early 20′s).

Having met at a young age, and a troubling time for Kaaras, Stenn became a very solid and stable part of Kaaras’ life. Struggling through depression and alcohol addiction, as well as a lot of self loathing and other issues Kaaras was going through because of having left home and the loss of his father when he was a child, Kaaras was a mess. He’d often drink himself into a stupor and then sleep around. While Kaaras never lost his penetrative virginity (and it’s something he doesn’t lose until his Inquisition LI), he did fool around quite a lot no thanks to his liquid courage.

That stopped when Stenn took a shining to him, and in turn, Kaaras grew feelings for him back. Stenn was a kind, compassionate and almost a fatherly figure in a sense as well for Kaaras. Kaaras does have a thing for older men, and it’s quite a weakness, so I think that worked to Stenn’s advantage, but it was not his intention. Stenn just saw the mess that Kaaras was, and thought this was a person with potential to be much better once he figured himself out and set himself straight. He ultimately wanted to help him.

Things started small, just being able to spend time together during and in between missions. Kaaras looked UP to Stenn a lot, because of how set in stone he was, because of how much he already knew himself, despite having changed his entire life as a Tal’Vashoth. From a younger point of view, Kaaras saw hope in that, because he was a mess with a big hole in his life, and he needed to change that, to make it whole again.

The first step, Kaaras knew he had a drinking problem, and with the help of Stenn and a lot of withdrawing and pain, he was able to get off the alcohol. He still had his slips here and there, but everyone has those. But it was Stenn who got him through that, and he was by his side the entire time he was in withdrawals. Kaaras suffered the whole lot, the night sweats, the physical agony of coming off alcohol, the shaking, the irritation–all of it, and Stenn was there the whole time while he detoxed. He was there to remind him how far he’d come, of what he could achieve.

Not just that, but Stenn helped Kaaras understand himself sexually as well. Due to the PSAS/PGAD (more meta in his tags on his condition), sexual contact could oftentimes be painful. Kaaras hated his body and everything to do with it. His PSAS/PGAD was probably a lot worse as a younger man due to hormones going haywire as well, but he still suffers the condition to this day. Stenn took things slow and encouraged Kaaras to ENJOY sexual stimulation, and remind him that it wasn’t always to be associated with pain. Kaaras is and will remain a shy person. Despite his past, he was drunk during those times, and without the alcohol, it brought on a whole NEW bunch of insecurities and AWARENESS to him. He could no longer drown himself in flesh without the aid of that courage, so going slow for him was a MUST, and something that Stenn was able to do.

While the two of them certainly were able to explore with each other, the time when they were going to have sex was unfortunately interrupted. Kaaras, having worked up so much courage only for it to be shot down again, took a blow. While they were still romantic with one another and in a relationship, it was like working up from the bottom again, and unfortunately, never reached that far before things started to decline for them.

Both of them have ALWAYS been stubborn. Kaaras was beginning to come into his proper manhood and adulthood now, and he was beginning to form his own opinions and morals, particularly because he was now sober. He was his old self again, and yet a new person as well. He’d grown and he’d learned. He was developing emotionally and maturing fast.

Stenn, already in his mid 30′s, was never going to change. And unfortunately they had conflicts of interest as time went on. Kaaras had started to question the leadership of the mercenary company they were a part of (Kaaras had not originally been a part of the company while Stenn had been an original member). Of course, you can see why there would be conflict there. Kaaras has extremely strong morals, and that doesn’t always work to his favour, especially if he is to follow orders he does not personally agree with. Stenn didn’t want to hear it, and knew that their leader was getting work for them and therefore that was good enough. Unlike Kaaras, Stenn’s morals were lower and he didn’t mind breaking the law for coin.

While the two of them tried their best to work through it, unfortunately, it took a turn for the worst when Kaaras’ mentor (who was the reason they’d joined the merc company in the first place) was killed during a questionable contract. Kaaras had had enough. It was the last straw, and he told Stenn that he was leaving, and if he wished to follow then he was welcome to. Unfortunately, Stenn was already set in his ways, and did not want to break away from the company he’d been a part of for years. Even though Stenn did not want to break up, Kaaras made the decision for him, and broke it off with him despite it being so difficult to do.

The split was somewhat mutual and there was no hard feelings between them, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. Kaaras will NEVER forget what his lover had done for him, and he even informed and thanked him for the support he’d given him over the years and the personal growth. In saying that, though, leaving was the best thing Kaaras had ever done for himself. It wasn’t just him who had been questioning orders, but some of the other mercenaries as well, who followed Kaaras when he left and named him the leader of their new company, the Beres-taar. Even though Kaaras was a young mercenary captain, he’d proven himself a good leader over the years and people were willing to follow him.

Having moved to Starkhaven for a more permanent position, Kaaras did struggle with alcohol a little bit after the breakup, but his own personal growth allowed him the strength to keep control of himself (and with the support of his company and sister). This was a massive breakthrough for Kaaras and who he is today. He knows he has the strength and the will. He also now can’t be selfish, as he had responsibilities as a leader. This is also why he fell into the role of Inquisitor with more ease than some. He had the experience of being a captain for the last few years before Inquisition. The responsibility does have it tolls, though. Kaaras began to stress eat, which is why he’s a little softer around the midsection these days compared to his previous figure. He’d always been short and stocky, but he also used to be a fair few kilos lighter.

While he and Stenn attempted to write here and there, the wounds were just a little too raw for Kaaras to always get in contact with him–and his duty as Captain took priority. Only when Kaaras was invited to the peace talks did Kaaras see Stenn again while they moved south and made their way through Kirkwall (where Stenn and the company were based). While Stenn proposed that they could perhaps get back together again, Kaaras had grown too much and the divide between them had simply gone on for too long. Kaaras may always love Stenn in a way that he’d never forget, but he knew that it would not end happily, and he also didn’t respect Stenn as much as he used to, therefore he could not be in a relationship with him. They’d simply grown apart too much, and that was fine.

Unfortunately, during Inquisition, Stenn does die on a mission for his company, and the captain of the Ralshokra writes to the Inquisitor explaining what had happened. Kaaras is devastated and heartbroken to hear that Stenn has died and that he never quite told him that he had loved him when they were together. Kaaras will never forget him, or what he did for him. In a way, he feels that it’s because of Stenn that he was able to be where he is today. That he was able to grow, to sober up, to explore and learn so much about himself, and because of that, he will always love him.

[mediocre--writing]

He Loves Me Not

Tony Stark X Reader

Summary: When one single drunken night brings out the worst in Y/N, how will Tony react when 20 years of pent-up feelings are released on him within 20 minutes?

Word Count: 3,906

Warnings: None, there’s some angst, but it ends fluffy 

**This was posted from my other account previously

One could almost smell the alcohol from the ascending elevator, the stench going up to the living room in the tower, it was disgusting, really. So when the elevator doors opened, it was to no one’s surprise that a disgusting, drunken Y/N came waltzing through the halls.

More like stumbling around in her bare feet, heels in her left hand, clutch in her right, skin-tight dress clinging to her sticky, sweaty skin.

It was moments like these that Steve was more than grateful for his Super Serum enabling him to not get drunk, he never wanted to involuntarily look like that.

It was kind of a bust on the movie night that the other Avengers had invested most of their night into. While most of them were asleep, Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Clint were talking while the third Harry Potter movie played in the background.

Y/N almost fell flat on her face as she walked into the living room filled with sleeping Avengers, kicking Thor as she tripped over him, saving herself at the last minute. Good thing the god was a heavy sleeper.

“You do realize it’s 12:30 in the morning, right?” Tony asked Y/N, who barely shrugged in response, practically falling on Steve’s lap as she sat on the couch. “How much did you drink, fluffy?”

“I only had one drink,” Y/N slurred as she blinked slowly and carefully.

“I think you mean one case,” Tony told her, raising an eyebrow at her, to which she gave him an aggravated look.

“No,”

“Wow, pouty face, hits you in the heart, doesn’t it?” Tony mumbled to Clint, who was beside him, before addressing the absolutely hammered girl sprawled along the couch, half in Steve’s lap, and boy did the discomfort on his face make Tony smirk on the inside.

“I think you had more than one drink,” Tony told her slowly as she raised her head once again, glaring playfully at Y/N.

“And I think you’re always wrong.” She said grumpily, voice muffled by Steve’s thighs.

“Oh, I’m always wrong, aren’t I?” Tony inquired, rubbing the top of her head, watching her back relax as her breathing got quieter.

“Um-humph,” Y/N agreed, propping her chin on Steve’s thigh, staring at Tony through her lashes, eyebrows raised as if to tell him that, obviously, he was always wrong.

“Ok, well, one thing I’m not wrong about it getting you to bed, fluffy,”

“Why do you always call me that!” She yelled loudly as Tony helped her off the couch, grabbing the shoes and clutch as he supported her with his other arm.

“‘Cause your hair is all fluffy in the mornings, that and you hate when I do it.”

His fucking smile. That Tony-Stark-shit-eating-grin that could make any girl weak did nothing but aggravate Y/N, he was always like this. Cheeky, arrogant, idiotic, charming, caring, sweetheart.

The little bitch.

Y/N was leaning on Tony’s shoulder once in the elevator, leaning against the wall as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Where’d you go to tonight?”

“Where does it look like I went?” She asked harshly, but not moving her head from his shoulder, which only got more comfortable.

“Just wondering which bar got you so fucked up, had to have been a good place,” Tony asked, watching the numbers above the elevator get closer to her floor. “or was it a horrible experience… or person?”

“Good person, bad guy.” Y/N said, speaking more clearly than she had all night.

“Wanna elaborate on that?” he asked, craning his neck to look at her face, which looked peacefully disturbed.

“You.”

Tony swears everyone could hear the gears turning in his head at that very moment.

Did he do something that he didn’t remember? Her birthday was months ago, he doesn’t recall anything important that he forgot to tell her, there hadn’t been a mission for the past month, surprisingly.

He was a scientist, what variable was he forgetting to include.

A projection of all their years together flashed through his head, they met at MIT, she helped him after his mom and dad died, she was his partner when he started his takeover of Stark Industries, she went through the Avengers Initiative with him, along with anything important in his life. She was always with him, and she always seemed happy, so why was she so suddenly unhappy.

The only thought in Tony’s head was the quote “Drunk words, sober thoughts.”

Was she really so unhappy being around him? Did she only ever stay around for money or fame? Was she only doing this out of pity, or was there another ulterior motive behind their friendship?

“Me?” If Y/N was sober, she would’ve noticed the breaking of Tony’s voice.

“Yeah, you and your–your fuckin– just like the– I– You’re my problems.”

The door dinged open, showing the hallway in which Y/N’s room was on, along with Wanda’s.

“Fluffy what di–”

“Stop calling me that!” She begged as she pushed away from the wall and Tony’s shoulder, stumbling her way to her door, almost falling multiple times until he came out of his frozen state and grabbed her shoulders from behind, steadying her as he walked her to the door.

“Y/N, can you please tell me what I did that made you mad?” Tony asked, holding her shoulders for both emphasis and necessity, as she began leaning left so far she almost hit the wall.

“You’re you, Tony.” Y/N told him, locking eyes, and for that split second, Tony knew that everything that would come out of her mouth next wouldn’t be lies. “You’re amazing and sarcastic, and kind of a bitch to the team, but you’re so nice to me. And we’ve been together, as friends, for like 20 years. But I don’t want to be your friend anymore.

“Got it?” She said, teary-eyed.

“Y/N,” Tony called before she disappeared through her door, making her head turn, the tears flowing freely now. “What can– did I do? Why’re you so drunk right now?”

“You!” She screamed so loud you could hear the scratchy strain on her throat, causing her tears to come down a bit faster, but backing away when Tony tried to wipe them off her face. “This is all because of you! You and you’re lovable self, and I fucking love you but you and Pepper love each other so much and I’m not allowed to stop it because I won’t let you be unhappy for me, because I know that you just want me happy, but I don’t want it!”

She slammed the door, and Tony knew the clattering in the room wasn’t her drunk mind wobbling around the room, but throwing things at the door and walls, and her screaming wasn’t from a physical injury, but the stabbing feeling in her heart that screamed to be relieved.

Through all of this, Tony didn’t move. He wanted to, he wanted to run through the door, cradle her probably shaking body and stop her crying, but he, truthfully, didn’t know what he would say, or if he would get hit with a lamp, so he stayed away, walking to the lab, where he would crash at around 6am, just like every other time he had something on his mind.

Y/N knew that he would go to the lab. But what she wanted more than anything was for him to run in, screaming about how he secretly loved her as well, and how he never loved Pepper as much as he loved her.

But that was only for fairytales, and the shit-hole that was Earth was no fairytale, it was some twisted story written by the Grimm brothers and turned into reality by Tim Burton.

So, like any logical person, Y/N decided to scream and cry and throw things around, and, if she were sober, she probably wouldn’t have ever said anything. She wouldn’t want to die at that moment, to see the confused regret on his face when she spilled out her heart.

Everyone heard it. Steve, Clint, Wanda (who was woken up by the screaming a door down), and Bruce, who knew what the screaming was about.

Tony was oblivious, but anyone could tell that Y/N loved Tony, and it may have seemed only platonic to him, but she was in deep. And Tony was even oblivious to the fact that at least a little part of him loved her too.

Even Pepper knew that they fit together well, when one was being an idiot, the other would become an annoyed parent, they were there for each other. They’d been through too much with one another.

So Bruce turned on the coffee pot at 12:45 that night – more so, morning, bringing a large cup down to Tony in the lab, where he was bound to end up after the screaming ended. With his amazing timing, Bruce had just set down the two cups of coffee when Tony came walking in, dazed and confused, walking like a zombie who didn’t know where to go.

“Wanna work on something or do you wanna talk?” Bruce asked once Tony sat down, grabbing his designated mug, something that Y/N had bought for him as a joke, one that said ‘Worlds Greatest Dad’ on it with Peter’s signature on the back with a happy face next to it.

He stared at the mug for a moment, looking at the straight black coffee swirling around with little bubbles around the swirls.

“Let’s work,” Tony said, getting his tools from the desk, getting FRIDAY to bring out his latest suit, Bruce staring at the broken man for a moment before putting on his glasses and preparing for a long night with the resident insomniac.

It had been a week. Y/N wasn’t avoiding Tony, she was going on every day like nothing ever happened and everyone had the same question: Did she not remember what happened?

She did. Y/N was a wreck that morning, going on an early run once she knew that Tony was crashed in the lab and probably wouldn’t be up until noon, and let the five miles she jogged clear her thoughts.

If he didn’t want to bring it up, she sure as hell wasn’t going to. So she went about everything as normally as possible, not letting any feelings overwhelm her and keeping to herself just a bit more than usual, to not get any questions.

It was hard, most of all, that she didn’t get to talk to anyone about this.

She knew that Tony and Bruce talked, and if he wanted to, Tony could let Bruce know anything, or Rhodey, or anyone. Because he formed real relationships with the people he worked with. The only person Y/N was close with was Tony and it’s not like she could talk to either of them about her problems, being in love with Tony and all.

So Y/N continued to silently suffer through the Terrible Tony Times, which she had labeled this era of her life that morning when she got her sober mind back. Anyone could tell she was off, she worked harder, did more things around the compound, talked less, and her jokes were few and far between.

Wanda, the only person that Y/N had talked to more than for debriefing for a mission or a friendly morning greeting, finally brought it up to Natasha and Bruce. She figured she could offer Y/N’s perspective, Bruce Tony’s, and Natasha could be the impartial voice since she’d known both of them for an equal amount of time and wasn’t particularly close with either.

It was a plan, a sneaky one at that, and would only work if they got a certain spice out of the picture.

Pepper and Tony’s relationship seemed to be the only thing keeping them apart, and Tony would never break up with Pepper to only make Y/N happy, but he didn’t necessarily want Y/N unhappy as he was with Pepper either.

The trio was at a standpoint, nothing was going to get any better unless they truly found out Tony’s viewpoint on this situation. And the only way for that to happen was to get him totally-completely-hammered-to-the-ground-wasted so they could get a truthful and straight-up answer from him.

The plan was working, it was a Friday and the team, per usual, was enjoying a week with no missions that left with a horrible news story. Everyone had had a drink or two, but Tony, who was hanging around Steve and Thor, had been shooting back the Asgardian liquor that Thor brought for himself and Steve.

At this point, they were waiting for Tony to start headbanging to himself singing the alphabet song, which had happened a time or two, then Natasha would go in with her “sneaky spy thing” (Wanda’s words) and get an answer from Tony.

“I’m doing it now,” Natasha murmured to Wanda as she stood up, getting a confused look from Y/N, who was laying off all alcohol after her little incident with Tony. “Going to the bathroom.”

“I don’t trust her,” Y/N said to Wanda after seeing the sultry smile that she put on her face before she fully turned around, “What’s she going to do, Wanda?”

“Not sure, I’ve learned to not ask questions that I don’t need answers to,” Wanda said, locking eyes with Y/N before sipping the whiskey out of the glass.

“Well the only thing I enjoy anymore is knowing everything so I’ll be right back,” Wanda’s hand latched onto her upper arm, causing Y/N to turn with wide, accusing eyes pointed at the brunette. “Wan, whatcha doin’?”

“Leave her alone, Y/N,” Wanda said sternly,  her eyes oddly serious for her usual calm demeanor. Her grip was still tight on Y/N’s arm, drawing out a long sigh from the woman.

“What do you know that I don’t?” Y/N asked Wanda.

Meanwhile, across the room, Natasha began talking to Thor, Steve, and Tony about whatever came to mind, trying to get Tony alone as fast as possible.

“Did I ever tell you boys about the mission Bruce and I went on in Barbados?” She asked the men, who all shook their heads, “Really? Apparently, I didn’t tell the girls either, so how bout you go sit with them and I’ll start storytime in a minute?”

Natasha’s raised eyebrow and curious eyes led the two blonds to the couch in the living room, her hand reaching out to grab Tony’s arm when he tried to leave. “I need to talk to you,”

“Yes ma’am,” Tony awkwardly saluted her as they stumbled to the far end of the kitchen, away from the others.

“Can I ask you a few questions, rapid-fire, as fast as you can?” Natasha asked, “And honestly, too.”

“Yes…” Tony narrowed his eyes, still blurry and confused from the strong liquor, but still snarky and annoying, as always.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Gold,”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Cheeseburgers,”

“Your favorite team member?”

“Bruce,”

“Who’s your favorite person?”

“Y/N,”

“Where do you want to grow old?”

“Somewhere secretive,”

“Who do you love?”

“Y/N.”

“What’s one secret you have?”

“Too many”

“Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?”

“Yes, a donkey named Eorye.”

Natasha smirked with her bright red lips, curly hair falling around her face, “That’s all I needed to know, thanks, Tony.”

“Welcome, fireball!” Tony slurred as he walked into the living room, sitting on the other side of Wanda, Y/N at her other side.

The days following were crucial to the plan and were on thin ice. Trying to get inside Pepper Potts’ head was going to be an issue, she was a tough nut to crack, and though Nat had gotten through people stronger than her, she didn’t want to come off invasive or rude.

Pepper was going to be an issue, that was certain, until she disappeared, though Tony didn’t seem as worried as he should’ve been, claiming “She didn’t want to stay, I wasn’t going to force her.”

The team thought that this was it, he and Y/N would finally get together and be happy, like they should have always been. But nothing happened.

Y/N continued to avoid Tony like the plague and it seemed like Tony was doing everything he could to talk to her.

“Y/N, Mr. Stark requests to see you in the lab.” FRIDAY’s voice would announce in the kitchen.

“Tell him that I would, but I’m busy doing anything else,” Y/N would respond every time, sometimes there was variation, but it was usually the same.

The next two Team Fridays passed, they all drank and had fun doing whatever they did, but Y/N would, mysteriously, become ill in her room all night and wouldn’t answer, or unlock, her door.

So it was a random Wednesday.

Tony was fed up with this, he was ready to tell her that he loved her too, that things with Pepper had been on the edge for a while, and that he’s sorry that he was weird that night, he didn’t expect it, that’s all.

But she was only a ghost at this point. He would see her across the room, from the other end of the hall, but when he’d get close enough, she’d be gone, in a closet, hiding around the corner, sprinting around the compound, until Tony found her.

Her hands were wrapped, beads of sweat dripping down her back and forehead, her leggings and sports bra clinging to her sticky skin as she punched at the bag, going harder and harder as Tony watched from the door.

“Don’t kill the poor thing, Rogers already killed their family.” Tony joked with a small smile on his face, looking at Y/N’s back as she stopped and tensed at the sound of his voice. “Did you know that I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past two weeks?

“At first I thought it was just normal, it was still weird, but then you just didn’t show up anywhere I was and would disappear if I showed up. Do you even know that it’s been a month since we’ve talked like friends? That I got a haircut? That I … broke up with Pepper?”

“I know,” Y/N stated, still not turning to face him, but unwrapping her hands slowly.

“Oh, you know?” Tony asked, scrunching his nose up in the cute way he did when the sarcastic bitch came out. “Well, I know that you haven’t been doing much of anything, that I’ve tried to talk to you over and over constantly. I know that you don’t talk to anyone anymore, but that’s because you only ever talk to me. What I don’t know is why you won’t now.”

“Tony?” Y/N asked, finally facing him, sucking a breath in through her nose, “Why’d you break up with Pepper?”

“You know why.” Tony smiled softly, raising his eyebrows in a sign of surrender.

“No. I don’t. I have two possibilities of why you would have broken up with Pepper,” She looked down at her shoes, his shoes, then back up to his eyes. “If you broke up with Pepper to make me feel better, then everything gets worse, Tony. I can’t feel like I ruined a relationship because I don’t talk to people about my feelings. That’s my problem, not yours.”

“No offense, but do you really think I’d end a relationship over you?” Tony snarked back, “You know better than anyone that Pepper has only ever made me go out of my way and do things I wouldn’t normally do. You know that she never made me really, truly happy.”

“But you guys were fine, and you were going to propose to her soon–”

“Yeah, because you told me to. I trust your judgment more than I ever valued hers, you told me that I was prepared for the next step, and I thought that if you thought so, knowing me, then she’d think so, too.” Tony ranted, pacing back and forth in front of the door. “You are the only person here, besides maybe Rhodey, that I’ve trusted for so long, that I’ve known and respected for so long when any friends I make get their picture and leave.

“An- and you know that I would go to the ends of the earth for you, and you would do the same for me, and I know that you’ve liked me in MIT, and I thought you may have liked me when we were working together, and I thought you stopped, because we grew up and you went on dates with guys, so I got with Pepper because you never said anything to me–”

“You never said anything either!” Y/N shouted to stop Tony’s ranting. “This is a two-way street, and you can’t blame your relationship problems on me not saying anything to you when you so obviously never said anything to me. Your problems aren’t me, your problems are your own faults, Tony!”

“I’m not blaming you! I’m saying that we both didn’t say things we should’ve in college, and I know that I’ve had my share of mess-ups, but so have you. And that’s why I think we can work well together.” Tony’s words softened as he walked towards Y/N, putting his hands on her upper arms ever so gently. “And even now, when you’re all sweaty and gross, I still know that I love you, Fluffy.”

“I love you too, Tones.” Y/N smiled at him, looking at his hazel eyes that bore into hers. So many unspoken words shared at that moment, their plans for the future, their lives, anything that could be communicated with that look was said easily in the deep moment as they leaned into one another.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips, smiling as they got closer, closer, and closer before they were breathing on each other’s lips.

Their eyes closed as their hands wandered, his going to her hips and hers on his shoulders, their lips nearly touching–

“Oh, Mr. Stark!” Peter’s voice yelped along with a crash that came from the doorway, where Peter had landed on the floor in his excitement.

The blooming couple sighed, eyes darting to the clumsy kid, who’s cheeks were flushing from how he found the duo.

“I-I’m so sorry Mr. Stark I didn’t mean to intrude, but–”

“Kid,” Tony snubbed his mumbling, “I’ll meet you in the lab.”

“Ye-Yeah, got you, Sir.”

“I told you, ‘Worlds Greatest Dad,’” Y/N poked his chest, “Right here,”

Her tongue was between her teeth as she held in her giggles, Tony pulling her in for a tight hug, kissing her head before resting his own head on top.

“I love you, Fluffy,”

“I love you too.”

“Good, you had me worried there for a minute.” Tony joked, pulling his head to look at her face.

“God, you’re annoying, maybe I don’t love you so much anymore.” Y/N teased as Tony picked her up and spun her around as they both laughed, oblivious to the group of Avengers watching from the door after Peter had told them what was happening.

[iwhumpyou]

fun facts about sleep deprivation sourced from that time i was awake for 52 hours straight

if you are a picky sleeper (i cannot sleep sitting up, or if there’s any source of non-natural light nearby) then sleep deprivation is not going to let you ignore those things.

it just means you will be resting your eyes and crying as you attempt to sleep on top of your suitcase in a noisy airport terminal.

you will make stupid decisions.  very stupid decisions.  dangerously stupid decisions.

i stood in a line for an hour and half trying to get on another flight after my first was canceled.  i reasoned to myself that if there wasn’t another flight i’d just ask for a rental car voucher.

this was around hour 45 of being awake.  i definitely should not have been driving.  i shouldn’t have even considered driving.

you will be singularly focused on one thing - sleep.  it means you will make any decision you think will get to faster sleep.  it means you will make decisions that actually ended up with you sleeping even later than you would’ve done if you’d just taken the hotel voucher and booked it out of there.

your eyes will feel like they’ve never heard of water.

you will definitely not appreciate the first 1st-class seat you’ve ever managed to snag because it turns out that if there’s a line of eighty exhausted and pissed-off travelers whose flight was just canceled, they will give you anything to make you go away.

airports are a spectacularly bad place to be sleep deprived.

i mean, they aren’t as bad as, say, a mall or a deserted street late at night because:

no weapons.

a really large number of security guards.

everyone reaching that stage of exhaustion that makes you just entirely done.

the fact that you may actually be in a different country.

reasons why an airport is a bad place to be sleep deprived:

you may actually be in a different country.  have fun figuring out currency and language with one and a half working brain cells.

airports are mazes.  none of their signs make sense.  none of them.

you are on a deadline.

good luck finding water.  and no, don’t pay twenty dollars for a bottle of delicately crushed ice from a special snowflake mountain.

if you’re one of those people who have the incessant need to check that their passport is on them at all time (and that it’s actually their passport and not someone else’s even though you would’ve never gotten through security if you had someone else’s passport jfc why does anxiety never make sense) then you will get stuck into a loop of checking for your passport, not processing that you actually have it, and checking for it again.

at any given time of day, approximately 50% of airport travelers look like zombies.  20% hide it better.   30% are children running and screaming, oblivious to the death glares of everyone that wants to strangle them.

wait this was a post about sleep deprivation.

in all fairness, i’m probably sleep deprived right now.

i found the perfect 200k fma-hp crossover fic at ten pm.  what did you want me to do, wait?  pfft.

(re: you will make stupid decisions.)

i feel like i cannot reiterate this enough.

stupid decisions.  your judgement is impaired.  you-are-not-sober kind of impaired.

i get very chatty when i’m sleep deprived.  by which i mean i lose my brain-to-mouth filter.

(also a bad thing in an airport.)

you will have difficulty doing simple physical tasks including but not limited to: standing up, not accidentally leaning on your suitcase so far you almost unbalance, and holding a cup of water in one hand.

you will be unreasonably and justifiably angry at the things that keep you from sleeping, like that stupid idiot three rows up who decided that they absolutely had to have their reading light on, the drama queen, squint at the shitty tv like the rest of us.

you will feel a deep and abiding hatred of airplane manufacturers.  seriously, who designed these torture devices?

you will think uncharitable thoughts about anyone with the temerity to bring young children on a flight.

you will miserably contemplate that a lot of your current agony could’ve been avoided if you’d just taken a nap before you left.

you will feel a sudden respect for your mother, who took two screaming children aboard long international flights every year - one which couldn’t sleep at all on airplanes and another that had sensitive ears - without exploding.

when you finally, finally get to a bed you will cry tears of joy and then promptly tell your brain to go the fuck to sleep.

your brain will reply snottily that that’s what it’s been trying to do for the past 34 hours like it didn’t send shrieking alarms every time you tried to close your eyes in front of a lightbulb.

you vow to never take sleep for granted again.  a vow you keep until the jet lag wears off.

[eurosong]

My ESC ‘20 ranking

Good morning folks, on this rather melancholy “Eurovision day.” Whilst this year may be cancelled and its songs pretty callously binned by the EBU, 2020 was a diverse year that deserves taking a close look at too, so here goes my customary full ranking of the year. I express some candid opinions, but they are just my take on things, no shade intended if you disagree.

41. Estonia - What love is It’s always most difficult to pick a last place because, no matter how sleek Eurovision gets, there are still a few abject horrors that sneak into the contest. With a score that would have been dated 30 years back, and lyrics that manage the peculiar double act of being both pompous and anodyne, this is horrid enough before Uku’s dubious xenophobic comments and his prevailing over a field of much more compelling songs get taken into account.

40. Macedonia - You The Macedonians, having achieved their best result ever last year (I’m happy for them, but also, Kaliopi deserved that), decided that they soared too close to the sun with Proud and decided to crash land this year to build their energy to soar again. That’s the only reasonable explanation I have for this effort which deeply repels me, doubling down on Luca Hänni’s “cocky guy in a sleazy bar” æsthetics and adds to it even worse lyrics, castrato singing and the unintended levity of the interpreter being far more interested in the bartender. Also one of a maddening number of duplicate titles that were nowhere near as good as the originals.

39. Cyprus - Running What is this void in the space of a song? I’ve listened to it dozens of times to do ratings over the past months. I’m still left with an icy emptiness because it does nothing to me, says nothing to me. The only thing that I can say in its favour is that it’s not a replay of replay aka Fuego 3. That’s it. It’s like it’s designed to leave little impression and hope to cruise by on diaspora and friendly votes alone.

38. Austria - Alive Austria have been on an interesting Eurovision journey, going from winning with Conchita to serving up this chirpy homophobe doing his best impression of Timberlake. A monumental step back from the singular tenderness of Pænda.

37. France - Mon alliée (The best in me) La déception de l’année sans doute. France, one of Europe’s cultural powerhouses, really said “forget Destination Eurovision, which showcased our music scene’s diversity and was one of the fandom’s favourite newer NFs. Let’s abolish it all and bring in the guys who made Bigger than us, because we really want a piece of that Big 5 bottom place action! Let’s throw away our cultural caché and get something about as French as flatpack furniture!”

This is like going to a pricey restaurant in Paris, expecting haute cuisine and instead getting some microwave-reheated IKEA köttbullar. And can we talk about how Amir of J’ai cherché fame is partly to “thank” for this in one of the biggest heel turns of the year? It’s like he wanted to ensure that France TV beg him to return by safeguarding his excellent score from being equalled. I also have to say, Tom Leeb seems like a nice guy with a good voice. He did his best to salvage this with the acoustic version, which lifts it up a few places. But not so many given that that Westlife reject b-side ending with a key change remains.

36. Germany - Violent thing Speaking of major cultural players dumping their national finals for no good reason, guten Tag, Deutschland! Germany once had one of the best and certainly most diverse NFs going. Instead of dumping Barbara Schönenberger as hostess - every year she’s presented, Germany have had calamity, and the one year they did well, 2018, she wasn’t host - they decided to pin all their hopes on a bewildered looking gossoon from Slovenia with yet another Timberclone song and some rather dubious live vox. As his countrywoman Lea Sirk said, it’s a hvala ne from me.

35. Spain - Universo Yes, it’s another year of the Big 5 not living up to its automatic qualification rights (except you, Italy, thank you for being the exception to the rule.) So here we’ve got a bland effort from Spain to avoid being bottom 5, except that ain’t how ESC works - you need something to get people to waste their money on voting for your song. And for me, this surely is not it. This was a bit higher on my ranking before because there are more objectively objectionable songs out there. But the nonsensical, repetitive lyrics, the painful attempt at a high note on perdónameeee, and getting stuck on a bus where I had to put up said screeching being played 5+ times means #35 is about right for where it deserves.

34. Armenia - Chains on you Armenia, usually a reliable mainstay in the top half of my listings at least, instead served up one of the most bewilderingly impalatable NFs of the season where every song sounded imported from the ESC anni horribili of the 00s. This has grown on me a little bit - I like tin drums and I like her weird accent - but the lyrics are amongst the year’s most pitiful (“ya wanna take me to a party, because you’re naughty”) and it just feels cheep to me. 33. Bulgaria - Tears getting sober I don’t see the appeal in this bewildering merger of dirge and Disney, and this is coming from someone who likes melancholic music more times than not. I find this one straight up unpleasant to listen to. The lyrics are of someone passive-aggressively glorying in the pain they wallow in to return the hurt, in “look how much you’re making me hurt myself” style. The syrupy score replete with key change is a bizarre, ghoulish accompaniment. Only this high because I recognise some artistic merit in its production.

32. Azerbaijan - Cleopatra Are Azerbaijan now at the stage where they’ve decided to pastiche themselves? The country with the worst LGBT rights of all contesting ESC having the monumental neck to send a song about “gay or straight or in between”? The country who have almost religiously avoided sending anything with any actual Azeri national character or heritage sending a song written by a Canadian, an American and a Frisian about a Greek-Egyptian ruler with a Japanese mantra and Latin affectations, so sending us around the world to pretty much everywhere except Azerbaijan? What can I say in favour of it? It’s a little bit catchy. So are venereal diseases.

31. Poland - Empires How can a country who started their ESC journey with aplomb - and experimental gems like Sama and Chcę znać swój grzech - and who continue to serve in the junior contest, how can they be so almost studiedly bland in ESC these days? This is our 564th knockoff Bond tune, sung a little awkwardly and with lyrics written by a Year 8 who’s been given a creätive writing assignment where they have to use metaphors. “We’re gasoline and a match!” Wow. If it passed to the final, it would only because of loyal Poles abroad.

30. Greece - Superg!rl We leave the territory of complete dirges and enter that of songs I can sort of live with. This one’s a huge step back for the Hellenes though after the gorgeous Better love. Its odd chorus is memorable, but not for the best reasons. Its saving grace is its unintentionally humorous promotional video. A better use of those superpowers would have been to come up with a better song.

29. Moldova - Prison Remember the fun Moldova that used to bring songs like Hora din Moldova and Lautar, with some actual national flavour and flair? That’s long gone. Even the Moldova that brought terrible songs but fun stagings, like that of My lucky day, seems far lost into the fogs of time too. Another wholly unremarkable and mediocre production of the Scream Team that would be lucky to scrape into the finals.  28. Belgium - Release me Has Belgium learnt absolutely nothing in the years Blanche where the wheels of their ESC renaissance have fallen decidedly off? My feeling is no. I have to salute them to some degree for creating nice, very musical compositions, but just like in the past two years, they have forgotten to add a few key elements: some sense of progression or dynamism. This plods along repetitively on one track, one note, and that note is nice enough as background music, but my hunch is that track would have led them to another unsurprising “surprise” NQ.

27. Serbia - Hasta la vista It’s an earworm, but some earworms leave you wanting to get an aural exorcism. Somehow, some sort of collective insanity overcame Serbia and they decided to dump on their beautiful oeuvre of songs, go completely against their trend for qualitative, classical, brooding, orchestral music by instead picking a bunch of time travellers who had been a third rate girl band in Transnistria. How enough Serbians thought they’d win over Europe by going for a sound that was dated even when they made their début bemuses me. 26. UK - My last breath The UK are really soaring high in my rankings as... the last amongst the 26 songs that would make up my notional perfect final. Baby steps. I still think it’s pretty lame how the BBC tanked their own national final for this. It’s not so adventurous. It has so little to say that it’s half a minute shorter than the ESC standard and yet still consists of repetition. It has one of the most annoying chorus quirks with that beat in “my last... breath.” How did this get up this high again?

25. Albania - Fall from the sky It absolutely pains my heart to put Albania out of the top 20 after two thunderous years in which they captured my gold and bronze respectively. What makes it worse is that they could have had a perfect hat-trick, because the original, Albanian language version “Shaj” was my #1 song from December up until mid-March when they released this thin gruel of a revamp with all the things that gave Shaj some authenticity and flavour gone, and with beautiful, heart-rending lyrics replaced with cliché. Only this high because there are plenty of worse songs.

24. Czechia - Kemama I have a soft spot for poor Benny, the interpreter of this song. Ok, so it beat a field containing some vastly superior songs, but it’s nice to have a Czech song without weird lyrics about women for the first time in a while, and the way the kid was put through the ringer for his more Afrobeat-influenced revamp made me sad. For me, it gained a bit of flavour with that change. The lyrics are still poor but I like the colourful musical backdrop.

23. Israël - Feker libi 🇮🇱 Sometimes, you don’t think much of a song but the artist elevates it enormously. Such is the case with Feker libi, a bizarre pot pourri of styles with a very discordant tropical verse (which I like), mid-90s dance track chorus (which I don’t), middle eastern post-chorus and African-sounding outro (jury’s out on both.) Yet Eden Alene is so full of natural charm and exudes “I want to be your friend” that I can’t help but rewatch just because of how joyous she makes it.

22. San Marino - Freaky 🇸🇲 Speaking of atypical countries flying high in my ranking, all was set for San Marrano to take non-pride of place at the bottom of my ranks yet again, but somehow, I ended up quite enjoying their track this year. Yes, San Marino is still a weird zone where, when you descend to Rimini in Italy, you enter the new millennium, but returning up the tiny nation’s steep slopes, you head back to a time in the 70s when disko was king. This disco is fun though. In part thanks to Senhit, a sympathetic performer who deserved more in 2011, in part the lyrics - who doesn’t want to rip up the rules, write new ones and then destroy them too?

22. Switzerland - Répondez-moi It’s nice to have the Swiss singing in a national language for the first time in ages. It’s also nice that they didn’t fall back on their success with Hänni by going with a similar so-called bOp. I also really love some of the artist’s other tracks, like Babi. And I liked this a fair bit more upon first listen, but the combination of less than stellar lyrics - just a succession of somewhat emoïsh rhetorical questions; just because they’re in French, doesn’t make them deep - and a wailing falsetto have made my will to relisten to this often take a serious hit for me. A shame, as musically, it has some undoubted quality. 20. Denmark - Yes 🇩🇰 Denmark seems to be doubling down on 2019 to develop its new niche - catchy, sweet but ultimately a little overly gooey love songs. There’s always something a little bit imperfect about them though: last year it was Leonora’s serial killer-esque nervous gaze; this year, it’s the “I’m not going to even try to make pretend we’re an item” lack of energy from Tan. It’s a little bit too reheated “Little talks” but it’s decent enough.

19. Russia - Uno 🇷🇺 When this first was released, days after the deadline for submitting songs, I was pretty peeved at what seemed like a pisstake against the contest, a bizarre rehash of Aqua for the meme age. And yet.. maybe it’s the quarantine slowly driving me insane, maybe it’s the sheer infectiousness of this that just makes you want to dance, maybe it’s the epic energy of the backing singer (Rosa from Brooklyn 99’s twin) who looks like she wants to kill everyone else... but I’ve actually grown to like this enough to put it top 20. I’m not always entirely predictable!

18. Norway - Attention 🇳🇴 There’s a lot of things that tick my yes boxes with this song, like the beautiful orchestral music laid out by the famed Mørland or the simple but sincere performance. There are also things that take a Sharpie and scrawl in my no boxes too, like the somewhat whiny tone of the vocals or the adolescent and lyrics which, with their “oy’d change anyffink abaat moyself fur a boi” tone, don’t flatter the singer, and from Mørland, I expect better. There’s more good than bad here though, and it has been an earworm since the day it was selected.

17. Belarus - Da widna 🇧🇾 I don’t know what was in the water this year, but we got a bunch of great Slavic language songs, including from countries that don’t typically send songs except in English. I like the chilled out vibe and the curious lyrics. Their live version for Eurovision Home Concerts with just an acoustic guitar sounded a whole lot better, I must say.

16. Australia - Don’t break me 🇦🇺 I’m finally overcoming the horror of the bizarre clown mise-en-scène complete with ropey lyrics at Australia decides and judging this on its potential. Hands down Australia’s best entry at the contest for me. Musically, it’s strong, and lyrically, it’s compelling and very saudadic. I’m sad we won’t see what a glow-up their final staging could have provided. I really hope it wouldn’t have involved clowns, which seriously tanked the song in my ranking for months, no joke.

15. Portugal - Medo de sentir 🇵🇹 A Portuguese entry outside of my top ten? Given their form with me since 2015, this might seem like a harbinger of the apocalypse. I still like it quite a bit, but there are stronger songs this time. It’s heartfelt, the lyrics are powerful (about being afraid to feel again after being hurt) and the melody is pretty. The live was a bit cagey especially because of the not particularly well synchronised voices of Elisa and the pianist, who composed the song. Still a very nice song and it is great to see Portugal staying faithful to its language, but I can’t help but feel sad that songs more in line with its riskier, more trailblazing previous few years. Passe-partout or Gerbera amarela do sul would have been in my top 3 like last year.

14. Latvia - Still breathing 🇱🇻 If you told me in January that not only would this song not be disliked, it’d also end up in my top 15 of the year, I’m sure incredulous laughter would have been the most polite response you’d have probably gotten. And yet - the song I couldn’t stand in Supernova has won me over and I do want to see Samanta Tina return for 2021 since she evidently cares so deeply about ESC so is pretty much one of us. I’ve come to love the weirdness of the track - real meat and gravy given the number of anodyne tracks - the iconic pre-corona hygienic leitmotif of its staging. ST’s joie de vivre and command of the stage. It’d be a guilty pleasure except I don’t feel guilty for it.

13. Georgia - Take me as I am 🇬🇪 Georgia once again are dancing to the beats of their very anarchic drummer and I love them for that. This thinly veiled swipe at both the Big 5 coasting in mediocrity and at narrow-minded fans’ reäctions to Georgia’s extremely varied oeuvre just hits the spot for me. I love the musicality of it, the dark electro-rock vibes, Tornike’s voice and how it blends perfectly with his captivating backing singers. I always vote with my feet for something different in an era where people are aiming to qualify with safe and bland rather than taking risks.

12. Romania - Alcohol you 🇷🇴 Roxen provided one of the most iconic moments of the season by deliberately tanking the ordained bop amongst her national final songs. Her eventual song is one of the most emotional of the year, and also one of the most surprisingly literary: there are tonnes of nuances, allusions, wordplays and so forth in this text, most of which are a lot more graceful than the titular terrible pun. I humbly put it to folk who thinks that this romanticises alcohol that they are missing the point - it’s instead being used as a metaphor for toxic relations which, by the end of the song, Roxen has broken away from. I love her voice, I love the music. It fell briefly out of my affections because of the weird mini-revamp, but it’s risen again.

11. Ukraine - Solowej 🇺🇦 It’s fabulous to see Ukraine singing a song entirely in their language and I hope this trend continues across the Slavic nations like was notable this year. The timeless folksy elements mixing with modern beats makes a curious and entrancing blend, delivered with aplomb. It takes where Poland 2019 went wrong and puts it right. I could have done without the unnecessary revamp, but it’s still one of the year’s freshest cuts. Well done, Widbir!

10. Slovenia - Voda 🇸🇮 In an age where the likes of Albania is stripping away all the beautiful orchestral flourishes of its entry to make a pared and muted revamp, Slovenia went full throttle in the opposite - and in my mind, right - direction and made one of the very few good revamps of the season. Performing with the Budapest philharmonic orchestra, Ana Soklič, who, for my money, has one of the best female voices of the year, unleashed the cinematic, sweeping beauty of Voda. I think this would have surprised many people by doing quite well. On musical and vocal merit alone, and adding to that the subdued saudade of its lyrics, it deserved a lot more love.

09 Malta - All of my love 🇲🇹 In 2018, I would have sooner said that it was more probable for me to have become Grand-Duke of Luxembourg than it was for me to have loved a Maltese song, let alone two i n a r o w. I didn’t expect much of this at all, because I expected we’d get a wailing vocal exhibition, as Ian used to say, focused on exhibiting Destiny’s range rather than giving her a genuinely good song. But this is a genuinely good song. Once again, I love for the gospel edge it has, and Destiny’s vocals soar to impressive heights, without feeling unnatural or ostentatious. I should have known to expect good things with the regal Cesár Sampson on board.

08 Lithuania - On fire 🇱🇹 Prior to this year, few people had any hopes for Lithuania’s long-winded national final selection process. The idea of it being must-watch viewing when there were many other more compelling choices on offer was hilarious. In 2020, that changed. They changed the name to the hilarious but hopeful “Let’s try again”, had a number of fantastic songs, and became one of the most diverse and qualitative highlights of the NF season. The eventual winners, The Roop, deserved the accolade with this cool, super contemporary track with a brilliant dance routine and a genuinely important message about not giving up on yourself.

07. Sweden - Move 🇸🇪 At MF this year, the Swedes put a match to its protracted ‘cocky fuckboi with polished, soulless overproduced pop song’ era, hopefully for good, with an all-female top 4. I will always lament Dotter missing out narrowly, but I’ve still been brought plenty of joy by the radiant Mamas with their fabulous hand-choreography and genuine warmth, and this song of resilience through the tough times. I love gospel-tinged music and this really makes me smile.

06 Ireland - The story of my life 🇮🇪 Before this was announced, I heard Ireland’s track being compared to the oeuvre of pretty much every major 00s female pop star. I was quizzical, but upon hearing it, could see why. In a year with a lot of beige, this is just one big orange and yellow blast of colourful late 90s/early 00s nostalgia, hope, resilience. The kind of anthem I never knew I needed but came right on time. I can’t listen to its wry, conversational lyrics without wanting to dance along. And Lesley Roy herself is an icon. My favourite effort from Ireland since Playing by numbers, and I really hope she returns in 2021.

05 Finland - Looking back 🇫🇮 I’ll never forget a mural in the part of València where I used to live that said “we’re not different for the sake of being different”, and that could sum up my attitudes to Eurovision. Whilst it seemed almost everyone was behind Cicciolina in Finland, I had scant hope for my favourite, and was blown away when it actually did win. This melancholy meditation on the passing of time and people - “we never know what we have until it’s over and we’re looking back” - became emblematic of this year for me and added to what was already a really poignant and moving track. I love the musical style too and the smoothness of Aksel’s voice and how it contrasts with his evident awkward shyness. It has moved me so much that it had to end up top 5.

04 Croatia - Divlji vjetre 🇭🇷 I always will represent and bring love for the Balkans and their adhesion to their musical traditions. This was one of the most pleasant surprises of the NF season for me - I was expecting very little from Croatia, and instead, it greeted me with this beauty. You have the understated classic grace of the music, the exquisite melancholy and poeticism of the lyrics, and one of the finest male vocals of the season. My favourite Croatian track in almost 15 years.

03 Italy - Fai rumore 🇮🇹 Sanremo isn’t just a national final, it’s a cultural experience that digs into your heart over the course of a whole week. This was one of the most memorable I have followed yet - and what a truly deserving winner. It’s just another example of the seemingly endless supply of heartfelt tunes by classy, sincere performers that Italy has on tap, with one of the best lyrics of the contest and the extra level of poignancy from how the lyrical theme of isolation would come to represent us all.

02 Iceland - Think about things 🇮🇸 One of my nerviest and happiest moments of the entire NF season was seeing Daði Freyr and friends win Söngvakeppnin in Iceland. As much as I loved Svala’s Paper, I had also adored his song three years prior - the delightfully awkward and similarly irrepressably earwormy Is this love. And now he was back with a groovy, fun, heartwarming tune about fatherhood that has only continued to grow in my estimations. The bridge still full on gives me goosebumps. It’s the kind of song that just makes me marvel at being human and being on this earth.

01 Netherlands - Grow 🇳🇱 My top few songs are all very closely entwined so much so that they could be considered joint winners, but I’ve been pretty unequivocal ever since Shaj got torpedoed by its revampire: silver turned to gold and my previous 2nd place, Grow, became my new favourite. I love the heartfelt, sparsely poëtic, bravely confessional lyrics. I love the way that it goes from something minimalist and intimate with just organ and voice and slowly builds upon the hints of gospel to something truly anthemic. Such a meticulous arrangement where there’s not a single sound out of place. This song is pure art and, like Soldi, Mall, APD and all those preceding songs which had the magic of being my personal favourite, it moves me upon every listen.

[noahfynn]

Best Man Duties | | Noah + Ollie

WHEN: 4 February 2021

LOCATION: Hotel room before the wedding ceremony 

NB: Whilst Ollie thought he had his nerves under control after secretly spending the morning with Lola, he starts to get nervous again as the ceremony approaches. Noah, taking his best man responsibilities seriously, steps in to help. Please note that this chatzy is a work in progress and will be updated as we go.

@olliexjames

Noah took his best man responsibilities seriously so whilst Mina and AJ were off getting dressed, he took the chance to check in with Ollie and see how he was feeling. After all, it was the most important day in Ollie's life thus far and whilst he knew that Ollie was head over heels in love with his wife-to-be, it would be understandable if he was a little overwhelmed. "Hey man, big day. How are you feeling?" Noah asked.

Ollie had been finishing up getting ready for the big day. Fixing his bow tie, he couldn’t help his eyes from continuing to dart back to the clock across the room — watching as the literal seconds began to count down to the moment of him saying ‘I do.’ He thought that he was fine after speaking to his bride just a few hours prior; but now that the minutes were passing, he found himself growing more and more nervous. His entire attention was focused on that damn clock, so much so that he almost completely missed his best man speaking to him. “W-what? Sorry, I’m just...I’m kind of freaking out right now.” He admitted sheepishly.

"Yeah, that's what I figured", Noah said simply when Ollie finally checked back into their conversation. "How big is the freak out? Do I need to pull the car around so that we can make a quick escape? Pour a line of shots? Put on Careless Whisper and have a deep and meaningful conversation? Whatever you need, I'm your man". There was no doubt in his mind that Ollie was madly in love with Lola but he understood that today was still a big deal; and it made sense that he was experiencing some nerves about the whole thing.

“The line of shots is a good place to start." Ollie said only half-jokingly, immediately gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey that laid on the hotel room's bar top. After fixing himself up he took a seat at the edge of the bed, sighing as he tried to sort his distorted thoughts. "I saw Lola earlier and everything made sense, and now I'm freaking out again. I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me right now." Ollie began, finding himself confiding in both his brother and best man. "What if I find some way to fuck this up? I really don't want to lose her."

Noah just nodded, making his way over to the bar and grabbing the bottle of whiskey. "At least you splurged on the good whiskey. It would be pretty disappointing if we were drinking the shitty stuff today", Noah commented as he made his way over to the bed and sat down beside Ollie, passing him the bottle. "We won't bother pouring shots, we can just swig straight from the bottle. It seems like the day for it", he explained. "Do you want me to go and distract the bridal party so that you can have a few more minutes with her or is this a crisis that I can talk you down from?" he asked. "Ollie, I love you but that's just your anxiety talking. You've been with her for two years now and that woman is /crazy/ about you. Getting married isn't going to suddenly turn you into a different person or turn you into an asshole, which means that your relationship will be just as special and wonderful as it always is".

"Always gotta splurge on good liquor. The cheap shit doesn't do anything for me anymore." Ollie added as Noah walked over to grab the bottle. Nodding in agreement by his next statement, he easily took the bottle and brought it up to his lips, taking a big swig from it. "Yup, definitely not cheap." He chuckled before passing the bottle back. "No, I don't want to stress her out thinking I have cold feet. I just need to shake this feeling." The man found that he was speaking more to himself than to the other male as he thought out loud. "Yeah but - what if I can't give her what she really wants? Or needs? What if one day she finally comes to her senses and realizes that I'm not..." He trailed off, shaking his head at the thought as he grabbed the bottle back from his best man. "I'm just freaked out. I can't go through another loss, not after I got myself this far."

"Such a connoisseur", Noah teased as he took the bottle from Ollie, taking a small swig before handing it back over. He had promised that he would remain sober until after the speeches so he intended to talk Ollie through this moment without getting wasted. "It doesn't sound like good feet, more anxiety that you might somehow mess this up or lose it", he said quietly, summarising how Ollie was feeling to make sure that they were both on the same page. "Oliver James, I've had the privilege for knowing your fiancé for a long time now; from before the two of you were even a couple. I can say with confidence that I've never seen her happier than when she's with you. I know that you can struggle to see your good qualities but Lola seems them all. You've been giving her everything that she wants and needs for a long time now so please don't let your own anxiety and insecurities trick you into losing the best thing in your life". He paused for a second, collecting his thoughts before speaking again. "I obviously can't promise that you'll never experience another loss again but if you walk away today, if you allow this brief moment of panic to trip you up... well, I think that's the choice that's most likely to lead to another loss. I don't know many relationships that would survive being left at the altar"

Ollie easily took back the bottle from Noah, taking another big swig of the bitter liquid; a content sigh escaping his lips at the feeling of the burning sensation down his throat. He simply just nodded as the other clarified his feelings; he knew that he wasn't getting cold feet, more so that he was simply scared of repeating the tragic history of his parents. "I never understood why she views me so highly, or how she can be so patient." He simply admitted as he took another swig from the bottle. "You're right, I know that. It's just when I think about marriage, I automatically think of my parents. Not that it's a bad thing, because from what I know what they had was good, and real but..." He trailed off, his breath hitching for a moment as he began unlocking that part of his life. "Marriage comes with the concept of settling down and getting comfortable with your life. It comes with a home, and it's the hardest to run away from. I've always told myself that I wouldn't do that again - that I wouldn't get comfortable or settle anywhere, even when we first got out together. I want this more than anything; she's my best friend and the person who understands me more than anyone...but she also scares me more than anyone." He rambled on for a few moments, thinking more out loud as he attempted to distinguish what he was truly in fear of. "I'm not going to leave her at the alter, I would never do that to her. I just need to shake this feeling in," He looked at his watch, his eyes going wide at how fast the time was passing. "A half hour. Holy shit."

Noah definitely felt relieved when Ollie confirmed that it wasn't cold feet, rather anxiety that he wasn't going to be enough for Lola; and fear that things might end tragically between them. "That's because you don't see yourself accurately, Ollie. Lola... she's madly in love with you. She knows that you're the right person for her. I've seen some of her past relationships and then I've seen her with you and god, it's so obvious that the two of you are right for each other. She loves you because you understand her better than anyone else ever has. You accept her, support her, respect her, love her for her flaws and her strength. You make her laugh, you make her feel safe, she trusts you. She's told me more than once that you're literally her favourite person on this earth. I'm sure the hot sex and great orgasms are just an added bonus on top of all that emotional shit", Noah said, unable to resist slipping in a light-hearted attempt at a joke at the end. "I get that. You know who else gets that? Lola. From what I understand, her parents had a good marriage and then her dad died and her mother basically abandoned her and started a whole new family; icing Lola out completely until she died too. She understands that taking a chance on people, on letting them into your life, is terrifying. She just knows that you're worth that investment and risk, just like you know that she's worth it too". People gave Noah a lot of shit about being a "good time guy" but when the situation called for it, he was able to buckle down and be serious to help his friends. "Alright, we're not going to spend the next 30 minutes drinking because I refuse to let you be fucking wasted when you marry the love of your life. Want to get some air? I think I can sneak you out of here without anyone noticing, we can go for a walk or something".

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Chapter 77, Part 3

Oh thank god we’re finally out of Chapter 77 fuck we’ve been in this miniarc for 3 fucking months now basically the entire duration of this stupid quarantine I wish I was dead anyway enjoy this pretty good chapter that i had a fun time writing: 

Previous: https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/615069126396870656/universe-falls-chapter-77-part-2

***

Chapter 77: Adventures in the Multiverse

Part 3: Home Away from Homeworld

FCZU OSH GOWZZS VP XHP DPAQQAS EZ LINOSNOD OLVUXEYTVG BP LIRS WNR VLIYR BHNV RO RPU KAQAS TD BHR FICPABIIG HEXZV WUQ'W NTRP

After my departure from the parallel dimension, I had hoped, but not necessarily expected, to arrive back where I’d started, in the Nightmare Realm itself. While traveling between worlds, the trajectory of my next destination was never certain, even with the heavy modifications I’d made to my wormhole stabilizer over the years. However, if there was one place I could have never expected to see in my lifetime, it was the place I fatefully happened to end up next. 

It was an alien planet, about as alien as any other dimension Ford had found himself in over the past 30 years. The atmosphere was breathable, painted an almost mystical shade of starry lavender filling in the sparse space between the dense cityscape this dimension seemed to largely be composed of. Every structure seemed to be almost crystalline, angular in design as they towered into the air in an intentionally uniform, orderly sort of way. Ford had emerged into one of the narrow alleyways between two of these windowless buildings, immediately on guard, just as he always was whenever he found himself venturing out into a new, unfamiliar setting. Just beyond that alleyway lay what seemed to be a street that was bustling with noise and activity, though the kind of creatures that inhabited it took the author completely by surprise. 

By many accounts, they seemed to be humanoid, most of them strangely femenine in appearance as they wandered about the roadway, each of them intent on performing certain tasks or heading to specific destinations. A group of sturdy, muscular orange women marched by in a clean formation, a flock of tiny, teal, aquatic-winged girls flittered past a patrol of green, single-eyed women rushing for what seemed to be a nearby airfield. And yet, for as colorful and contrasting as the residents of this world seemed to be, one pair among them in particular instantly caught Ford’s eye, even from afar. 

Both of them were small in stature, around the same height as one dutifully led the way in front of the other. And yet, what shocked the author the most was the mere sight of them; one red, one blue, but so incredibly familiar that it had to be them, it had to be. Even if it made no sense for them to be in a place like this, Ford would know that iconic couple anywhere, whether they were together or apart like they were now. Which was why he largely,if not foolishly, threw all sense of stealth right out the window in favor of reuniting with, at the very least, who he hoped actually were two of his former friends this time around. 

“Ruby! Sapphire!” Ford called, rushing out from the alley. The moment he did, the rush of activity in the street he heedlessly ran straight out into came to a complete standstill, with everyone in the immediate vicinity practically freezing in place as soon as they spotted or heard the author. Clearly, none of them knew what to make of him or what to do as he merely ran past them all, not regarding any of them as he instead kept his sights on the Gems he believed to be Ruby and Sapphire on the other side of the thoroughfare. Said pair of Gems spun around as he approached them, one of them startled while the other seemed to be expecting his arrival. Still that didn’t stop “Ruby” from rushing to leap in front of “Sapphire”, aggressively standing her ground against the much taller human before her. 

“You there!” she shouted, glaring up at Ford furiously, though her expression also betrayed her clear bewilderment as well. “Uh… you...  w-whatever you are!”

“That is a human.” “Sapphire” noted calmly. 

“Oh! Uh… o-ok!” “Ruby” nodded, taking her word for it. “Human! I order you to stand down and, uh… leave my Sapphire in peace! Or else!”

“...What?” Ford raised a confused eyebrow as he looked down at the pair. “Ruby, what in the multiverse are you talking about? You know me! Both of you do!”

“We don’t know any human!” Suddenly, from just behind “Sapphire” another Ruby entirely emerged, with another one following her right after to flank the blue Gem protectively. 

“Y-yeah!” the other Ruby exclaimed, feigning toughness before she muttered obliviously to her companions. “Uh… what’s a human?”

Ford started at this, completely dumbfounded by the trio of Rubies and the single Sapphire before him. And yet, as he took another look at the group before him, he quickly realized exactly what made them all stand apart from the Gems he knew. Namely, the fact that the Sapphire’s gemstone rested on her chest, while the Rubies had theirs on their cheek, shoulder, and forehead respectively. Each an obvious difference from the palm placements of the Ruby and Sapphire he was familiar with. “W-wait…” he faltered, taking a stumbling step away from the group. “Y-you… you’re not-”

“You must have us confused with someone else,” the Sapphire noted evenly, her stoic expression unchanged. “Also, you might want to run.”

It didn’t take long for Ford to understand the reason for this advice as a sudden clamor arose on the far side of the roadway. While most of the other women, or rather, likely Gems, the author inferred, could really only stare at him in baffled shock, one faction among them had rallied themselves into action. They were all strongly-built, soldier types, and Ford briefly thought a few of them might have even looked like Amethyst if not for their larger bodies and longer hair. All the same, the entire crowd of them had their curious, yet confounded sights set solely on the author as they erupted into a rowdy ruckus amongst themselves. 

“Hey! What is that thing?”

“It’s not some kinda new Gem is it?”

“Of course, it’s not a Gem, stupid!”

“Who you calling stupid, stupid!”

“Enough!” A loud, impatient shout broke through the argument, stalling the group as they made their heated approach toward Ford. The crowd of Gems quickly parted ways for their superior, each of them greeting her with respectful cross-armed salutes as she regarded them bitterly. As for that superior herself, she was every bit as intimidating as the Amethysts both in stature and in pallor given her dark orange coloration and severe, yet stately manner. “What in the name of the Diamonds are you Amethysts causing such a fuss about?!”

“F-forgive us, Fire Agate!” one of the Amethysts stammered nervously. “B-but we think we might have just found an Off Color and we-”

“Wait...” Fire Agate swiftly silenced her as she finally spared a glance over at Ford. For his part, the author was far too startled by the unfolding situation to really try to make too much sense of it, much less react to it like he should have. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel rather anxious under the incredibly scrutinizing gaze Fire Agate was sending his way. “You complete and utter clods!” she snapped suddenly, smacking the pair of Amethyst’s closest to her upside their heads harshly. “That’s not an Off Color! It’s something far worse; that’s human!”

“Ooooh, a human,” one of the Amethysts nodded, feigning understanding before she whispered to her companion. “What’s a human?”

“It’s one of those things from Earth, dummy.”

“I’m not a dummy, dummy!”

“Quiet!” Fire Agate shouted at them before she turned back to Ford. “And as for you--I don’t know how you managed to get here from that disgusting mudball of a planet you call home, but here on Homeworld we do not take kindly to you lowly organic lifeforms.”

“H-Homeworld!?” Ford exclaimed, genuinely shocked. 

Yet despite that shock, Fire Agate largely ignored him as she addressed the pack of Amethysts once more. “Yellow Diamond will certainly want to see this… interloping creature,” she stole another disdainful glance at the dumbfounded author before her. “Amethysts! Let’s take this… thing to her and see what she has to say about it…”

“Yes, Fire Agate!” the Amethysts dutifully saluted once more before moving forward. Ford didn’t even have enough of a chance to shake himself out of his bewilderment and grab the blaster he always kept tucked away within his coat before the muscular Gems were upon him, overpowering and apprehending him in a matter of seconds, despite the struggle he tried to put up. 

“I told you that you should have ran,” the Sapphire noted as they began to drag him away. 

As soon as they saw that the “invading” human had been restrained, the other Gems in the thoroughfare were quick to get back to their business as usual. At the same time, Ford was somewhere between a dumbfounded daze and resilient resistance as two Amethysts tightly held his arms on both sides, trudging along as Fire Agate led the way. Still, Ford was never one to go down without a fight as he continued struggling against their secure grip, throwing out threats and profanities until Fire Agate finally formed a bubble around his head to largely silence him out of sheer annoyance alone. Yet that bubble hardly kept the full weight of where he was from hitting him in full force. 

The Gem Homeworld… a place I’d only ever known from vague mentions of it from Rose and the other Crystal Gems. And yet, through some cruel twist of fate, there I was, on the hostile world my friends had once called home eons ago. A world where there was no place for humans such as myself whatsoever. 

Yet as those Gems carried me through its gilded corridors against my will, a sobering thought soon crossed my mind. For as far as it was from Earth, Homeworld was still in the same dimension. Which meant that I was in the same dimension. Which meant that--the distant planet I had ended up on notwithstanding--I was about as close to home as I’d been in 30 years. 

Part of me dared to wonder if this could be just another parallel dimensions with glaring similarities to my own. While I had no way of knowing for sure at the time, now I can say with certainty that this was in fact not the case. I had indeed made it back to my own dimension… Which made everything that happened next all the more incredible and infuriating. 

Following a series of lengthy straightaways and a trip over a warp pad or two, Fire Agate and the Amethysts had carried him to a massive, elegantly designed golden structure, with a doorway that rose high above the group approaching it. In front of that doorway, another pair of identical Gems, yellow and almost brick-like in appearance, stood guard, though much like the Amethysts, they regarded Fire Agate with clear respect as she approached them. 

“Step aside, Topazes,” she commanded haughtily. “I come seeking an urgent audience with our Diamond.”

The two Topazes said nothing, merely exchanging a glance and a nod before they obediently moved to let Fire Agate and her entourage inside. The doors parted to reveal a large, lofy, yet mostly empty chamber, one that sparkled yellow every bit as much as its exterior. Countless bubbles containing misshapen congregates of Gem shards floated still and silent throughout it, and sitting at the far end of the room was by far the most imposing Gem Ford had encountered in his relatively short time on Homeworld so far. 

The Gem who had to be none other than Yellow Diamond herself. 

Currently, the matriarch was preoccupied by her work on a series of holographic screens hovering before her. She was accompanied by a much smaller Gem who, aside from her pale lemon coloration, bore a striking semblance to Pearl, at least in Ford’s opinion. Even so, the author mostly kept his sights on Yellow Diamond herself, immediately distrusting her before she even so much as looked his way. Because after years of traversing countless dimensions and squaring off against conquerors and kings, he knew a tyrant when he saw one. 

“Hello, my Diamond!” Fire Agate greeted her superior, throwing on a sacrine grin. “Might I say you’re looking positively radiant today?”

“What do you want, Agate?” Yellow Diamond asked bluntly, not bothering to glance up from from her screens whatsoever. 

“A-ah, yes, well,” Fire Agate cleared her throat awkwardly. “We--I was just out near the square, keeping an eye on this rowdy batch of Amethysts that just came in from your newest colony, when all of the sudden, everything came to a complete standstill! Naturally, my Diamond, it’s my duty to investigate such matters, so I-”

“Get to the point, already,” the matriarch huffed with an impatient wave of her hand. “I’m very busy and I do not have to waste any unimportant, unwanted intrusions.”

Fire Agate let out a small, anxious squeak as she straightened up her posture somewhat. “Y-yes, of course, my Diamond! A-all this is to say that… I’ve brought you a human!”

“A human…” Yellow Diamond repeated, initially disinterested. 

“F-from Earth!”

The matriarch suddenly froze, her eyes growing wide as she at last tore them away from her holo-screens. Her sights quickly settled on Ford, and as they did, he swore could feel the palpable hatred she automatically beared toward him just from her diamond-pupiled gaze alone. “Agate,” she began, her tone surprisingly calm and quiet when compared to the tranquil fury her expression otherwise betrayed. 

“Yes, my Diamond?” Fire Agate grinned eagerly, expecting some sort of praise or perhaps even a reward. 

Though what she actually ended up getting from her Diamond was nothing more than a harsh dismissal instead. “Take your Amethysts and go. The human stays here with me.”

“Oh, of course, my-” Fire Agate stopped short, her eyes wide as she looked to her superior, dumbfounded and dismayed. “Wait, w-what? A-are you certain, my Diamond? After all, it is armed…” She glowered as she nodded back to the author, or more specifically the quantum destabilizer strapped to his back. 

“I said go,” Yellow Diamond reiterated coldly as she rose to stand at her full, towering height. 

Fire Agate flinched fearfully, cowering under her Diamond’s severe stare just as much as her accompanying Amethysts did as they swiftly released their hold on Ford. “Y-yes! Right away, my Diamond!” she readily nodded, abruptly turning on her heel. “Amethysts, come! Let us leave our Diamond to her very important devices!”

None of the Amethysts argued as they rushed out right after Fire Agate, the large chamber doors sliding shut behind them to leave Ford alone (mostly alone, aside from her Pearl) with one of the very rulers of Homeworld itself. And as soon as they were gone, the author didn’t hesitate to immediately pull one of his several blasters out of his coat before taking aim directly at the matriarch. “She was right, you know,” he said, boldly glaring up at her. “I am armed--heavily so.”

Yellow Diamond said nothing in response to this, instead just raising an eyebrow, almost as if she was challenging him to attack her. Though somewhat confused by this, Ford did so, firing a powerful plasma blast straight for her head. The matriarch barely even had to move to deflect it however, merely swatting it right out of existence with a simple wave of her hand. Alarmed, Ford tried again with a different gun, only to meet similar results when the matriarch effortlessly blocked the blasts yet again. Still, the author kept on trying, using the vast variety of the arsenal he’d gathered over the years to so much as land a single scratch on her, but to no avail. All the while, her Pearl fearfully cowered behind her Diamond’s throne, watching the one-sided battle with wide eyes, at least until she realized her superior was clearly winning it. Ford eventually came to that conclusion too as he finally lowered just about the last of his weapons as he looked to Yellow Diamond incredulously. 

“W-what…?” he stammered, baffled that his blasters that could destroy other creatures in mere seconds didn’t phase the matriarch at all. “How-”

“I wouldn’t expect a creature as lowly as a human to know this,” Yellow Diamond began haughtily. “But all of your meager, primitive weapons are nothing to the strength and fortitude of a Diamond.”

Ford stilled at this, briefly taking a glance back at the now-finished quantum destabilizer on his back. A weapon that was powerful enough to take even a being as mighty as a Diamond down when nothing else could, certainly. Yet, as much as he might have wanted to, he knew the destabilizer was only good for a single shot, lest its precious power be depleted and diminished entirely. And that was a shot Ford knew he was saving for Bill and Bill alone the next time he faced him. 

“Now,” Yellow Diamond continued as she sat upon her throne once more, her Pearl quickly returning to stand by her side. “Before I obliterate your pathetic form for even daring to stand in my presence, tell me: how did you end up here in the first place? The last I saw of your kind, they were still playing around with stones and simple spears and could barely even ignite a flame on their own, much less build spacecraft that can travel across multiple star systems to get to a planet light years away.”

“Well, you must not have been to Earth in quite some time then,” Ford countered crossly. “You’d be surprised at what we humans are capable of now.”

“I don’t care what you’re capable of,” the matriarch glowered coldly. “I want to know how you managed to infiltrate my domain and why.”

The author crossed his arms, turning his nose up at her. “I’m not obligated to tell you anything.”

A bout of fierce fury flashed through Yellow Diamond’s expression at this, though her temper managed to even itself out again as she kept up her relatively calm composure. “Hmph, well that’s one thing that hasn’t changed over the past 6,000 years. Your kind is still just as infuriatingly stubborn; now I see where those ridiculous ‘Crystal Gems’ got it from…”

“T-the Crystal Gems?!” Ford exclaimed, a sharp gasp escaping him at the mere mention of his friends. “You know them?”

Yellow Diamond sent him a rather curious look at this. “You know them? Funny, I didn’t think human memory lasted that long, especially when it comes to a group of despicable traitors that were rightfully wiped from existence centuries ago…”

“Wiped from…” Ford trailed off in a whisper, still completely stunned as he happened to recall something Rose had told him about the other Crystal Gems years ago. 

“Back then there were more than just four of us,” she had said softly, sadly. “But… well, what happened to the others is… a very long story in and of itself.”

But now, with this new context, that story suddenly made sense. The Crystal Gems had indeed stood up to their former Homeworld, just as Rose had said, and they had paid a grave price for their resistance and their bravery. All except for the four that still somehow managed to survive it all back on Earth. 

By now, Yellow Diamond’s manner had turned thoughtful as she glanced away from him, opening one of her holo-screens back up to look over something. “I recently stationed one of my engineers on Earth to check on a certain… project of mine. She has been frequently sending back reports of her progress being repeatedly impeded by, in her own words, “a group of persistently aggravating clods who call themselves the ‘Crystal Gems’”.” The matriarch turned her piercing gaze back on the author. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that… would you, human?”

Of course, Ford did know about that group, and while the fact that they were still just as active as ever when it came to protecting the Earth was something of a comfort, the realization that Homeworld was aware of that fact too was anything but. “N-no, I don’t know anything,” he quickly denied as firmly as he could. “A-after all, I haven’t even been to Earth myself in 30 years, s-so even if I did know these so-called Crystal Gems--w-which I don’t--it’s not like I’ve been able to keep tabs on what they’ve been up to all that time.”

The author tried playing off his feigned innocence with a nervous chuckle, one that Yellow Diamond unfortunately didn’t seem to buy. “Why do I get the impression that you know much more than you’re letting on…?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“I-I can assure you I don’t,” Ford reiterated his previous lie, desperately wishing the matriarch would just leave the matter at that. But of course, it was just his luck that she didn’t.

“Well, if you know nothing of this resurgent pack of rebel Gems, then how are you seemingly familiar with the concept of the Crystal Gems in general?” Yellow Diamond persisted, leaning forward on her throne a bit. “Furthermore, if you’re as unaware as you claim to be, then why would you come here, to Homeworld of all places? If these rebel Gems really do exist, then are you perhaps one of their expendable human spies? That is a tactic they often tried to utilize back during the war, you know. Though if you are, you should know… almost none of those spies ever made it back to them alive…”

“I’m not a spy!” Ford protested, though he knew that if Rose or any of the other Gems had ever asked him to act as such, he gladly would have done so. “I didn’t come here intentionally; I wound up here completely by random, and I-”

“Silence!” Yellow Diamond snapped with a fearsome glare. “Believe me when I say that I am far more clever than your meager human mind is. Clever enough to see through your ill-conceived ruse. Unfortunately,” She brought up another holo-screen, tapping away at it until the chamber doors behind the author slid open and the pair of Topazes that had been guarding it filed in. “I’m far too busy with much more important matters to attend to than to waste my valuable time interrogating a human that’s far too stubborn for its own good. So I’ll just leave that task to someone else instead.” The matriarch addressed the Topazes as they both got a secure grip on either side of Ford before he could even try to pull any of his weapons out again. “Get that thing out of my sight. Take it to one of the holding cells and notify one of the commanders--I don’t care which one--that it is to be questioned as soon as possible. And do not let it escape.”

The Topazes answered in a silent set of nods as they began to forcefully drag Ford away against his will. Yet even as he fought back against their unflinching hold, he glared back at the matriarch fiercely, refusing to let her win this victory over him so easily. “You better believe me when I say that I will escape,” he said bravely, rigidly. “And when and if I ever do get back to Earth, I’ll do whatever I can to help keep it safe from you.”

“Not if you manage to doom it even more than it already is first…” Yellow Diamond said coldly just before the chamber doors slammed shut between them. And yet, as soon as the author was gone, the matriarch quickly turned to her holo-screens once more as she began to open up a communication channel through it. 

“M-My Diamond?” her Pearl spoke up, somewhat anxiously. 

Yet her superior didn’t regard her, instead focusing on the call she was making until an all-too familiar, all-too cheery greeting rang out on the other end of the line. “Y-ello again, Yellow! What can I do ya for this time?”

“Cipher,” she began, her icy expression not changing as her thoughts turned toward a newfound long-term plan. “I believe I’ve come into possession of something that may just pique your interest… for the right price of course…”

After my harrowing meeting with Yellow Diamond, I was hauled off (quite awkwardly, I might add; turns out Topazes can trap people within their combined form when they fuse, it’s NOT something I’d particularly like to experience again!) to another part of Homeworld entirely. But even as I was thrown into a seemingly impenetrable prison cell, I could hardly claim this was the most dire straits I had ever been in. My main concern at the time still lied with keeping the secrets Yellow Diamond had tried to get me to divulge. After all, I had once placed a great deal of my trust in Rose and the Crystal Gems, and a large part of me still did even then. It was only fair that I maintained the trust they had for me, even now when my life was likely on the line if I maintained my silence. 

Still, despite my predicament, I couldn’t help but find myself somewhat lucky at the same time. With everything I’d seen and heard since my arrival, the evidence really was adding up to the idea that I was in fact back in my own dimension. Which meant that if I could manage to break out of this cell and make it to some sort of ship or other such spacefaring vessel, then maybe, just maybe, I might finally be able to make it home after all. 

And as it turned out, I wasn’t the only one trying to escape from Homeworld either. 

Time wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to keep in a cell that had no windows to the outside, and even beyond that, Ford wasn’t sure if time even worked the same way on Homeworld at all. Still, he did make an attempt at tracking how long he’d been left waiting in his holding cell through the ever-increasing number of tally marks he’d notched onto the wall. His weapons had been confiscated in short order as soon as he arrived at what he assumed was the Gem equivalent of a federal prison, though it was a surprisingly small structure with hardly any “prisoners” to speak of locked within it. The author’s best guess was that most insubordinate Gems were punished in a different, much more severe sort of way than merely being imprisoned behind stone walls many of them could just as easily break out of. Yet as Ford was about to discover, that wasn’t necessarily the case for every arrested Gem on the planet. 

The author had been sitting on the cold floor of his cell for at least several hours now, absently snacking on some of the rations he’d fortunately brought with him from the last dimension. He paused, however, as the door to the cell block slid open for the mighty orange Gem entering through it. A scowl rested on her face alongside the small, triangular stone that was in place of her nose as she marched forward, stopping at the otherwise empty cell directly across from Ford’s. 

“There,” she placed a teardrop-shaped blue gemstone on the floor of the cell before sealing it off with a sturdy sort of force field. “That should hold you until it’s time to go.” The orange Gem turned to leave, spotting Ford in his cell in the process, though she only regarded him with a single huff of bitter annoyance. “Ugh… humans…” she rolled her eyes, saying nothing more to him before she walked out altogether. 

As confused by that Gem’s brief appearance as Ford was, his attention was quickly drawn to the blue gemstone lying in the cell across from him. A bright light had enveloped it as it hovered into the air, the Gem’s slight, lithe body forming around it as a skirt furled out over her legs and her gemstone took up its spot upon her back. As soon as she had fully reemerged, the blue Gem collapsed to the ground on all fours, her breathing harsh and panicked as she looked around her cell frantically. “W-what? Where-” she stopped short as she suddenly glanced over her shoulder, a small, startled gasp escaping her as she caught sight of Ford, who was watching her curiously, even from a distance. “W-who are you?”

“Uh, I-I’m-”

“Wait!” the blue Gem swiftly interrupted him, her shaken shock increasing tenfold as she quickly looked him over. “Y-you’re a human!”

Ford resisted the urge to let out something of an annoyed sigh at this, mostly out of being generically identified as a human for what had to be the umpteenth time now. “Why, yes,” he nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“H-how did you get here?” the blue Gem asked, incredulous. “A-are you… did you come from… Earth?”

“Well, technically speaking, yes,” the author shrugged. “Though I haven’t actually been there for quite some time, to say the least.”

“S-so they’ve had you locked up here for a long time?” the blue Gem inferred. “But why? Wait, no, that’s a dumb question. Of course they’d lock you up. I guess that’s what they do to everyone who comes here from Earth now….”

“What do you mean?” Ford inquired, naturally curious. 

The blue Gem gripped her arms tightly as she knelt on the floor of her cell, looking down forlornly. “I was trapped on Earth for thousands of years, unable to escape,” she explained. “But then, just a few weeks ago, I was set free by three young humans. All I’d ever wanted was to get back here, to come home… but now that I’m here… it’s nothing like I remembered…”

Though he scarcely knew this Gem at all, Ford couldn’t help but feel a steady burst of sympathy upon hearing her tragic tale. Because he’d also wondered whether or not his own home would be the same as the one he’d been forced to leave behind 30 years ago. But whatever might have changed back on Earth certainly would pale in comparison to just how different things must have gotten here on Homeworld over the course of thousands of years of long lost time. “I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said earnestly. “To be perfectly candid, you don’t seem to be anywhere near as much of a menace as most of the other Gem’s I’ve had the misfortune of running into on my time on this planet so far.”

The blue Gem finally managed a small, albeit somewhat bittersweet smile at this. “Thanks. You don’t seem that bad either. For a human, that is.”

“Huh. That’s the first positive thing I’ve heard anyone around here say about humans,” Ford noted with a small smirk. 

“Gee, I wonder why that might be…” the blue Gem chuckled, though her levity soon faded. “Still, I don’t really get why they’re keeping you around. After what happened there, I thought they’d just as well destroy anything from Earth instead of just locking it up in some cell.”

“Well, apparently one of your leaders believes I possess ‘valuable information’,” Ford said, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“That makes two of us,” the blue Gem sighed tiredly as she leaned against the wall of her cell. “What do you wanna bet as soon as they get that information, they’ll get rid of us both?”

“Not if we escape we don’t,” the author said resiliently. 

“Escape?” the blue Gem looked to him, dumbfounded. “I don’t know how this works back on Earth, but you don’t just escape from detainment here. The only time they let you out is when they need you… or want to shatter you…”

“Well, if I can escape the Drysenthium mines of the barren wastes of Olhomnom, then I can certainly break out of a Homeworld prison,” Ford grinned as he stood. 

“Uh… what’s that supposed to mean?” the blue Gem asked, confused. 

“It means I’m not giving up,” the author offered her a confident smile. “And you shouldn’t either.”

The blue Gem shook her head, clearly awash in doubt. “How can you say that when you don’t even have a way out of your cell?”

“Hm…” Ford paused to think, placing a hand against the relatively tangible, yet transparent field covering the opening to his cell. The blue Gem gasped, sitting up in shock as she watched him. 

“T-that… doesn’t hurt you?” she asked, more bewildered than ever before.

“No…?” the author frowned. “Should it?”

The blue Gem didn’t answer, instead anxiously reaching her hand out to the own field keeping her trapped, only to retract it back with a sharp hiss as it disrupted its form completely. “I-it’s a destabilizer…” she growled in apparent pain as she nursed her now reformed hand. “But I guess yours isn’t? O-or it doesn’t work on you. I-I don’t really know that much about how humans work…”

“Well, all the same, this field doesn’t appear to be something I can penetrate without one of my… weapons!” Ford exclaimed, balking in realization as he looked to the blue Gem sitting across from him. “You’re a Gem! You can summon a weapon, right?”

“No?” the blue Gem raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I guess if you’re not counting these.” Suddenly, a wide pair of wings, composed entirely of crystal clear water, unfurled behind her. “But… I don’t see how they’d do me much good since I can’t really fly past the destabilizer…”

“Well, certainly, you have other powers too, yes?”

“Uh… I can control water?” she ventured, taking a bit of water out from her wings and easily morphing its shape into various forms as it hovered above her open hand. 

“That’s perfect!” Ford exclaimed excitedly. “Why don’t you try manipulating some of that water toward the control panel right outside of your cell? It just might be able to short the circuit out and knock the destabilizer offline!”

“Mm… I guess I can try...” the blue Gem began her attempt, maneuvering her small bout of water to move it toward the field in front of her. And yet, as soon as it made contact with the destabilizer, the water was completely dispelled, practically vaporized almost instantly, much to her immense disappointment. “Of course… I knew it was too good to be true…”

“Hm, so that destabilizer also blocks your hydrokinesis from within…” Ford mused thoughtfully, a new idea forming in his mind. “But maybe… it could pass through the force field on my cell!”

“Huh?” the blue Gem watched in clear confusion as the author reached into his coat, pulling out the canteen he always tried to keep as full as possible.

“There’s water in here,” he told her, holding the canteen up. “If you can control it from a distance, then you can use it to short out my field so I can take yours down manually once I’m free.”

The blue Gem shuddered at this plan, her expression turning distrustful as she kept her sights trained on him. “You mean you’ll actually let me out?” she asked tensely. “For all I know, you could just be lying to me to get yourself out of here. How do I know I can trust you?”

“Well, I… suppose you can’t really,” Ford answered honestly. “In the same way, I don’t particularly know if I can trust you not to try to kill me or beat me senseless like most other Gems on this planet readily would. I guess in that sense, it all comes down to a two-way gamble, wouldn’t you say?”

The blue Gem hesitated, staring at the author intently as she tried to make up her mind about him. Ultimately though, she let out a relenting sigh as she rose to stand herself. “I must be crazy…” she shook her head as she let her aquatic wings disappear. “But… I’d much rather take a gamble that could get me out of here instead of just sitting around waiting to be shattered so... let’s do this.”

Ford nodded in sold agreement, holding his canteen out toward her. The blue Gem was able to connect with the water inside of it easily, raising a swath of it before slowly, carefully guiding it toward the field in front of the author. However, unlike what had happened with the destabilizer field, the energy it was made of did nothing to prevent her powers from passing through it. The blue Gem gasped at this, but she kept her hand steady, focusing on leading the water to the control panel on the wall beside Ford’s cell. Then, taking careful aim at the panel, she poured the water down upon it in a heavy torrent, one that was more than enough to not only damage it, but disable it altogether. 

Ford could scarcely hold back a relieved sigh as the force field in front of him fell, allowing him freedom once more. Briefly, the blue Gem looked to him skeptically, almost as if she didn’t think he would hold up the end of their bargain. But true to his word, the very first thing the author did was march over to her cell and, with a few mere taps on the panel beside it, cleared the destabilizing field that had been keeping her trapped. 

“Y-you… you really…” she trailed off, shaking her head as if to clear it as she offered him a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ford said. “But we’re not out of the woods yet. This place is likely crawling with plenty of Gems and I need to get the weapons they took from me back before we go.”

“Can’t you just get new weapons?” the blue Gem inquired, not fond of the idea of lingering in this prison any longer than necessary. 

“Normally, I’d say yes,” the author admitted. “But one of them is irreplaceable. And if I leave it behind, then everything I’ve ever worked for will be all for nothing. You’re welcome to go ahead on your own if you-”

“N-no,” the blue Gem interrupted, though her tone was apprehensive all the same. “You’ll never make it out of here on your own. B-besides, you… you set me free, when you really didn’t have to; I’ve only ever known a handful of humans who were willing to do the same. It’s the least I can do to repay the favor.”

“Then I’ll be more than happy to accept your help,” Ford grinned, knowing that help would be invaluable, especially given the blue Gem’s unique set of powers. “First, we’ll get my weapons. Then, we’ll get out of this structure. Then, we’ll find or commandeer a ship and use it to get off this planet once and for all. Sound like a plan to you?”

“...I guess at this point I don’t have too many other options…” the blue Gem sighed, almost strangely sad at the idea of leaving the planet she used to call home. Even so, she didn’t bother returning the hand Ford was extending out to her to shake as she simply nodded in agreement with his daring scheme instead. “But… yeah, sounds like a plan.”

And so we set out on their escape attempt, however risky and perilous as it might have been. Thanks to my companion’s skillful control over basically any liquid substance, we were able to disable any door that stood in our path. Navigating around the patrolling bulky Gems--or as my companion called them--Quartz soldiers, to be more precise, was a bit more of a challenge, however. With me defenseless and my companion not particularly combatant, we mostly had to rely on stealth when it came to getting around them. 

It took some doing, and a few close calls, but eventually we managed to make it to the makeshift armory they had stockpiled my stash of weapons within. Unfortunately, there was a Gem that was stationed guard there to prevent anyone from getting their hands on them. That Gem nearly alerted the entire base to our escape, until my companion quickly dispatched (and dispelled her form) with a powerful, yet contained wave of rushing water. 

To regain my quantum destabilizer alone was a massive relief, yet it was one that didn’t last long. Because though we did manage to clear the rest of the base easily enough, once we stepped out of it, we just so happened to find ourselves amidst one of Homeworld’s busiest sectors by far. And the moment so much as a single Quartz soldier spotted us, our plan fell apart at the seams. 

“Hey! Isn’t that the human that our Diamond ordered us to lock up?” one of the Amethysts from earlier shouted as she noticed the author and the blue Gem haphazardly tried to slip into the sizable crowd of Gems before them. 

“Yeah! And I think it’s with-” Ford couldn’t quite make out what the other Amethyst was saying, but he assumed she was referring to the blue Gem hurrying alongside him. 

“They escaped! Let’s get ‘em!”

“W-what now?” the blue Gem asked, panicking as the bustling crowd began to part to let the gathering horde of Quartz soldiers through. 

Ford took the briefest of moments to weigh their options, namely the sheer number of Gems that were angrily rushing their way. With his weapons in hand, fighting them off was a possibility, but it was one he’d rather not risk with victory being so close to being within reach. Which meant that there was really only one other thing they could do at a moment like this. “Run!”

The blue Gem didn’t need to be told twice. Without hesitation, she called upon her powerful watery wings and came to a hover, flying just a bit ahead of Ford as he ran after her. “Grab my hands!” she called, holding both of them out to him. The author tried to do so, though as he reached for her, a sudden spear tore across the back of his hand, landing a heavy cut. Ford hissed in pain as he gripped his injured hand, glancing back to see that several more of the Quartz soldiers were just as ready to toss their weapons right at him. The soldiers themselves were practically upon him, the short distance of just a few mere feet between them being far too little for comfort. On impulse, the author pulled out one of his blasters and took aim at the group, and briefly, he expected the blue Gem to be just as ready to do the same when it came to taking up opposition against their oppressors. 

“Come on! We can take them!” he exclaimed brazenly, though his courage was something the blue Gem didn’t quite share.

“N-no,” she shook her head, terrified as she glanced between him and the horde of soldiers. “I-I… I can’t…”

“What are you talking about?” Ford looked back to her incredulously. “Your powers are more than enough to-”

“I-I just… I can’t be trapped all over again!” she exclaimed, desperate as she flew a bit higher into the air. “I just can’t!”

“W-wait!” Ford exclaimed, realizing her intention just as she started to slip out of his reach. And with her, any chances of him finally getting back to Earth slipping away too. 

Pain and guilt welled up in the blue Gem’s eyes, but it was clear that she’d made her choice as she offered him one final, fleeting farewell. “I-I’m sorry…” she whispered in the last seconds before her wings propelled her upward in a single, powerful flap. And just like that, she had taken to the skies, flying high out of reach of the soldiers’ weapons as she made her escape… and leaving Ford behind in the process. 

That Gem… who I now know to be Lapis Lazuli, did eventually make it back to Earth, much like myself. Yet I hardly hold her hasty actions against her (not that I ever really did to begin with). Her greatest desire was freedom, and based on what Dipper has told me of her lengthy tale of repeated imprisonment and woe, blaming her for what happened next would be just plain coldhearted of me. I thought I had suffered plenty during my thirty years of wandering the multiverse, but compared to everything Lapis has been through, all of my many hardships feel as though they amount to nothing at all. 

In a way, Lapis’ timely flight actually ended up giving me just the opening I needed. Because as the Quartz soldiers were distracted with their futile attempts at apprehending her, I managed to find enough time to continue my own escape attempt. It didn’t take long for the soldiers to give chase as I hurried through Homeworld’s crystalline corridors, firing a blast or two back at them every so often to try and shake them off my trail. Yet for every one of them I managed to hit, it seemed like two more would take their place, all of them intent on taking me back into custody or killing me, whichever came first. Along the way, I tried to locate any sort of ship I could, one that could hopefully get me off of this totalitarian nightmare of a planet altogether. Though much like everything else, those hopes were quickly dashed as soon as I happened to catch the attention of just about the last Gem I ever wanted to see again. 

Ford could feel fatigue starting to weigh upon him as he sprinted through another of Homeworld’s seemingly endless thoroughfares. The planet must have been massive, he assumed, to have their airfields spread out so thin to the point that he hadn’t so much as spotted a single sign of one. The army of Quartz soldiers had been tailing him essentially the entire time, and try as he might to throw them by slipping into an alley or climbing onto a building, he was always discovered again by at least one of them. Yet at the same time, he always managed to evade the rather dull-witted Gems, making for an arduous, if not frustrating chase on both sides. At least until that chase was put to a very abrupt end. 

Ford was all but completely consumed by adrenaline as he ran under a towering bridge that he’d been dragged along not so long ago. He hardly recognized the landmark though, much less the glittering golden structure it led to, even as its lofty doors slid open and one of the matriarchs of Homeworld itself stepped out from them. But as soon as Yellow Diamond so much as heard the noisy chaos erupting hundreds of feet on the ground below her bridge, she wasted no time in intervening. 

The matriarch landed hard, yet solidly just a few feet in front of Ford. The author, as well as all of the Quartz soldiers who had been chasing him, slid to an abrupt stop, all of them equally terrified as Yellow Diamond rose to her full, momentous height. “Now, what in Homeworld is all this fuss-” she stopped short as soon as she caught sight of Ford, unspeakable fury filling her expression as bright sparks of golden electricity began to ripple across her entire form. “You,” she hissed hatefully before turning her ire toward the army of Quartz soldiers behind him instead. “Idiots!” she shouted, lashing out an electrified hand at them. As soon as her incredible power surged through them, their forms were destabilized instantly, leaving only their prone gemstones behind as Yellow Diamond continued her rampage. “Imbeciles! I’ve never seen such incompetence before! How much does it take to keep a measy, weak, insignificant HUMAN restrained?!” 

Ford flinched, watching as the last of the soldiers were temporarily disposed of before Yellow Diamond turned her vengeful sights back on him. “Well, to be perfectly fair,” the author spoke up as nonchalantly as he could manage. “I did warn you I would escape. And I’ve always prided myself on being a man of my word.”

“QUIET!” the matriarch yelled, absolutely outraged by his insolence. “My patience with you has run out, human. Information or no information, I am not going to let you simply run free causing all kinds of chaos and making a mockery out of my court! It’s time for me to do what I should have done from the beginning, and since I’m the only one around here with any intelligence to speak of, it looks like I’ll just have to do it myself…”

Bright electricity sparked around both of Yellow Diamond’s hands as she glared down at him with nothing less than the most hostile, practically murderous intent. Though Ford knew he didn’t really have anything that could be used to protect him from the brutal attack she planned on unleashing upon him, he still boldly stood his ground against her anyway. After all, if there was one thing he refused to do, it was meet his end in fear instead of bravery. 

Yet for as impending as the matriarch's vicious assault seemed, it never reached the author. For just as she fired off her heavy torrent of destructive lightning, the ground directly under Ford’s feet suddenly split open as none other than a dimensional wormhole tore itself into existence below him. The author only had time to let out a startled gasp before he fell into it completely, catching Yellow Diamond off guard as her electric attack missed its mark entirely. 

“W-what?!” she exclaimed, dumbfounded and infuriated as the portal slammed shut just as quickly as it had appeared. “W-where-”

“Don’t worry about ‘ol Sixer, Yellow!” a bright, irritatingly familiar voice echoed out, one that only Yellow Diamond could hear as her immense rage seemed to spike tenfold. “I’ll take care of him from here…”

The suddenness of being sucked out of one dimension and into a new one wasn’t something I was exactly unfamiliar with. And yet, the stark contrast of the orderly yet oppressive Homeworld to the incredible chaos I found myself abruptly hurled into was a shock to say the least. Especially when I realized exactly where this chaos was. 

My return to the Nightmare Realm was something that I had planned in my head for so long that it was difficult to believe it was actually happening. Plus, there are dimensions where everything happens in your head, so it can get confusing. But there was no mistaking the Nightmare Realm for another dimension. The constantly shifting kaleidoscope of color, lack of gravity, and persistent smell of burnt hair were all signs that I was in the right place. And of course, there was also the fact that Bill Cipher’s goons spotted me almost as soon as I arrived. 

Ford barely had time to acclimate himself to being off of Homeworld and out of Yellow Diamond’s reach before he found himself in incredible danger once again. Bill’s rowdy pack of monsters and demons didn’t hesitate to incite a chase against the author, one that was much more harrowing than his flight from the Quartz soldiers only mere moments ago. And yet, despite how unexpected the entire situation was, this was something Ford felt far more ready for than anything he had been through on Homeworld. He had faced these same bizarre creatures 30 years prior, and though he was a good bit older now than he was then, he had the advantage of being much more fit and agile thanks to the trials of the travels he’d experienced during that time. And having at least 10 different death rays at his disposal didn’t hurt either. 

Bereft of any of the blind, panicked terror he felt the last time he’d been lost within the Nightmare Realm, Ford charged his way through the horde of henchmonsters, blasting as many of them as he could aside in short order. After all, he wasn’t here for any of these second-rate cronies; he had only one target in mind and as he heard Bill’s sadistic laughter echoing through the vast twisting space before him, he knew he was closer to annihilating that target than he had ever been. 

“Long time, no see, huh, Sixer?!” Bill called from wherever he was. Between the monsters he had just dispatched, Ford thought he briefly caught a glimpse of his foe’s triangular form afar in the distance. And it was enough of a glimpse for the author to readily give chase instead of wasting his time with the underlings. “Looks like you’ve got a few new fancy toys since the last time you were here! Why don’t we test ‘em out?”

“Gladly…” Ford growled rigidly, the mere sound of the demon’s grating voice alone sparking white hot rage within him. Knowing it was finally time, he pulled his quantum destabilizer forward, gripping it like his life depended on it (which it very much did) as he continued soldiering on ever deeper into the unknown. 

With his henchmen in disarray, I had what would probably be my only chance to attack Bill directly. Cipher sensed that, for once, momentum was not on his side, so he retreated to something called the “Quadrangle of Qonfusion”.

The Quardrangle of Qonfusion was a twisted mess of stairs, halls, and corridors, each of them clashing heavily against each other and all of them having their own strange sort of gravity. None of it made any sort of sense to the author as he emerged into it, caught up on an upside down staircase as he noticed Bill casually gliding through the hallway just below him. “Cipher!” he shouted, taking aim with his destabilizer as Bill gleefully waved at him. 

“Aw, what’s the matter, Fordsy? All twisted up?” the demon chuckled just as he disappeared from sight. 

Ford let out a disappointed huff at this, but even so he kept going as he tried to untangle the unreal architecture of Bill’s massive fortress. And of course, all the while the demon made sure to continue his barrage of callous taunts, occasionally popping into the author’s line of sight, but never long enough for him to land a successful blast or blow. 

“I don’t get why you’re so upset, Sixer,” Bill remarked from somewhere Ford couldn’t quite place as he wandered across a sideways bridge. “After all, I did save you from your dear old Diamond friend that you managed to royally piss off just before she could roast you into a human-scented crisp. After all, I couldn’t just let her have all the fun when it came to finishing you off! I mean, she doesn’t have half the history with you that I do!”

“A history of treachery and deceit, you mean?” Ford accused coldly. 

“You got it! Nothing but precious memories for the past several decades!” the demon quipped with a twisted laugh. “Oh, but speaking of Diamonds… since you aren’t exactly making it out of here alive, I figured I might as well share a fun fact with you,sort of as one last hurrah before it’s all over.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t care to hear it,” the author staunchly rejected. By now, Ford had spotted an opening as Bill had come to take a seat atop one of the Quadrangle’s many askew pillars. The demon’s back was turned to him and the author had the advantage of a well-placed wall to conceal himself behind. All he’d need is just one clean shot straight through the demon’s center with his quantum destabilizer and it would all be over. 

“You sure?” Bill asked, his tone calm and easy. “Not even if it’s a fun fact about… Oh, I dunno, your old pal Quartzy? Something she never bothered to tell you before you wound up here…?”

Briefly, Ford started at this, but then shook his head to clear it of any such morbid curiosity. “There are a great many things Rose never told me about herself or her species,” the author replied honestly as he positioned the quantum destabilizer just right. “I’ve come to accept that and respect her privacy. Something you should learn how to do for a change.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” the demon countered. “Besides, what I’ve got for ya is a real doozy, something that she’s never told anyone--well, outside of Bird Brain, I guess, but she’s not telling anytime soon. And Quartzy’s definitely not telling anyone anything lately--you know what they say, dead Gems don’t talk!”

“Dead--what?” Ford took pause at this, staring at the demon incredulously. At the same time, he had just lined up the destabilizer’s crosshairs--which he’d specifically designed to be in the shape of a triangle--right up with Bill, who still seemed to be none the wiser. The moment he had worked and struggled for all these years had finally come. It was time. All he had to do was pull the trigger and end this once and for all.

And yet, for whatever reason, he still hesitated all the same. 

“Eh, that part’s not important right now,” Bill said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he finally got to the point. “What is important is that you never even knew that all this time, Quartzy was really-”

Before the demon could get so much as another word out, the entirety of the Nightmare Realm seemed to erupt into violent tremors out of seemingly nowhere. The heavy shaking was enough to completely throw Bill off his perch as well as send Ford falling to the ground, his destabilizer nearly falling out of his grip in the process. The source of the resounding quake soon became clear, however, as the chaos that was natural to the Nightmare Realm only seemed to multiply astronomically when it’s constantly-shifting atmosphere was torn asunder. The sky was overtaken by a wormhole, one that grew ever wider with each passing second as it flooded the entire dimension in its nearly blinding light. 

“W-what is that!?” Ford asked, more to himself than anyone else as he gaped up at the massive wormhole. 

His question was met with a heavy gale of intense, elated laughter from Bill as he came to hover just above the Quadrangle. “That, Sixer, is our ticket outta this dump!” he exclaimed with genuine excitement. “Finally, after all these years of waiting, it’s FINALLY happening! Some nimrod was finally smart enough--or dumb enough depending on who you ask--to get that portal of yours working again! Which means it’s time for your dimension to finally see what fun REALLY means!”

“The portal!” Ford gasped, the full realization of what was happening hitting him hard and fast. “No!”

“C’mon, boys!” Bill called to his horde of hench-monsters as they all rose up to the occasion, every bit as eager as he was to get going. “It’s moving day! We’ve got ourselves a whole planet to conquer, governments to topple, people to kill, the whole nine yards! So let’s get there and get the party started!”

As the hench-monsters exploded into a cacophony of wild cheers and shouts, Ford raced to pick himself up off the ground, sliding his destabilizer back over his shoulder as he slid his protective goggles on. At that moment, nothing else mattered, not even his longstanding vendetta against Bill. Nothing possibly could matter other than rescuing his home from the gruesome fate Bill and his cronies had in store for it. 

There was no time to question why or to curse my luck. Bill was incapacitated with laughter, but I needed to beat the rest of his hench-monsters to the portal, or my home would be invaded by his forces. So I ran along the length of the Quadrangle, and as I approached the edge, I jumped in the air while simultaneously tossing a concussion grenade behind me. The force of the blast was enough to catapult me past the demonic gang and through the portal just as Bill realized what was happening. 

As the passage between the two dimensions collapsed behind me, the last I heard of the Nightmare Realm was Bill’s outraged shout following after me: “STANFORD PINES!” 

And just like that, my one and only chance to put a much-needed end to Bill and his wicked ways disappeared, just like I did through the portal. I reentered the world of my youth to find my closest friends didn’t even remember me, and the one I trusted most among them didn’t even exist anymore at all. And to face a brother I had not seen in 30 years. My frustration was indescribable--once again, my brother’s actions had sabotaged everything I had ever worked toward! 

Ford sighed, disgruntled as he finally pulled his pen away from the journal. Several pages had been filled with his recollections of the multiverse by now, recollections that had just about reached their end. He’d been at it all night, reliving his adventures, both good and bad, as he chronicled them in full. And yet, despite his thoroughness, the story still wasn’t complete. It wouldn’t be until the one who had caused so much of his strife, so much strife for so many, including his friends and his family, was no more. 

Yet, the author couldn’t exactly say that being back in his home dimension after all this time was more of a curse than a blessing. True, things had changed drastically over the course of thirty years--society had shifted, technology had progressed. And on an even more personal level, his house had been turned into a tourist attraction, Stan was just as irresponsible and unreasonable as ever, Fiddleford had been driven to madness (even if he had fortunately been driven back into some sense of sanity), Homeworld still sought to threaten the earth just as much as Bill was (their mysterious, alarming alliance notwithstanding), and most painful of all, Rose was gone. Still, for every point of pain or contention, there were still plenty of silver linings. His friendships with Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and miraculously, even Lapis had been restored, and the bonds he’d formed with his newfound friends and family members, with Peridot and Stan’s two young employees, with Steven and Mabel and Dipper were invaluable. All bonds, all people that he knew were worth protecting. People that he vowed to protect as he wrote one final line in his journal for the night, ending his 30-year tale not on a note of resigned defeat, but of determined hope instead. 

My resolve to defeat Bill has never been stronger.

[blouisparadise]

There were so many amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Bound (To Falling in Love) | Mature | 958 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #2 on this list. 

Harry and Louis innocently cuddle on the couch until things get heated.

2) Nuh Uh, Honey | Mature | 1170 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #1 on this list.

So this is the ending of Bound (to falling in love) but with more detail. Long story short, Louis and Harry fuck.

3) 100ft Away | Explicit | 2479 words

Harry opens Grindr for a hookup and ends up with more than he bargained for. It all works out in the end.

4) I'm Looking for Closure | Not Rated | 2503 words

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. You can read the previous parts here.

“Say you can read my mind.” Harry said to Louis as he pushed Louis down onto the mattress. Louis squirmed as the covers rubbed against his skin.

“I can’t read your mind.” He said simply to Harry as he reached up to put his hands against Harry’s chest, trailing them down to Harry’s narrow hips.

“My mind is saying that I should just… just fucking go back in time. Go back so I could be your first.” Harry said, leaning down to lick into Louis’ hot mouth.

Or They finally fuck, sorry, I mean, make love.

5) The IT Fic | Mature | 3112 words

A fic where Harry is Pennywise & Louis is Georgie... Louis goes down to the sewers & Harry fucks him with a balloon as a condom.

aka a pwp that i wrote for shits and giggles. & yes, louis is of age

6) Souls | Mature | 3890 words

The first time Harry showed Louis two ghosts.

7) The Unfinished Fic (With an Ending) | Not Rated | 4013 words

Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

Louis greatly regretted all of his life decisions up to this point. Okay fine, maybe not all of them, but definitely a vast majority. After all, if he’d not told one little white lie about loving cricket just to impress a fit guy at the pub, maybe he wouldn’t be stuck at what was, one hundred percent, the most boring “sporting” event of his entire life.

8) Save You Tonight | Mature | 4841 words

Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.

Louis is a headstrong Omega in charge of his own life. But he's more than grateful when an Alpha comes along when he needs it the most.

9) Whisk Me Off My Feet | Explicit | 5054 words

When Louis locks himself out of his apartment in just a pair of novelty underwear, he hopes his new neighbor can come to his rescue.

10) Can You Feel the Fever | Explicit | 5113 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Tour has Harry exhausted. Luckily exactly what he needs is waiting for him in his Sacramento dressing room.

11) Gotta Catch 'em All | Not Rated | 5186 words

Louis loves Pokémon GO, he gets a little crazy and ends up ramming into a guy. Harry gets mad, calls him a brat and treats him like one. Oh, and they're in central park.

12) I Just Can't Get Enough Of You | Not Rated | 5466 words

Or the one were Harry got inspired from watching Louis on The Late Late Show.

13) Why Don't We Go There? | Explicit | 5654 words

Louis is a perfect model for Abercrombie & Fitch. Harry is a grungy, tattooed model for Hot Topic. When Louis walks in on Harry changing for his photo shoot, things only grow from there... including their dicks.

14) Act Out | Explicit | 6721 words

Harry and Louis try to spice it up a little for their 10th year marriage anniversary. Cliché role play ensues.

15) Life Imitating Art | Explicit | 6881 words

Note: This fic is the fourth part of a series. You can read the previous parts here.

Louis is taken on a very real journey through his fic back catalogue - life has never imitated art so salaciously.

16) You Can Show Me Your Heart | Explicit | 6935 words

Everyone knows about the unsinkable Titanic, which tragically did just that in April of 1912. However, not many people know the story of the Carpathia - the ship that raced to rescue and aid the survivors of the Titanic when the distress call came through. This is the story of the events leading up to the luxury liner crashing into an iceberg on that fateful spring night. More than that, this is the story of how two of Carpathia’s passengers - Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson - met, fell in love and helped over 700 people in the cold Atlantic water.

17) Kisses and Coffee Breaks | Explicit | 9350 words

Midterm season was finally here and all Harry wanted to do was study, however his boyfriend, Louis, seems to have a better idea.

or the one where Harry just wants to study and Louis needs Harry's cock.

18) Swallow The Knife (Outtake) | Explicit | 11186 words

Note: This is an alternative scene to fic #25 on this fic rec.

Alternate sex scene from Swallow The Knife.

19) We've Been Here Before | Mature | 11536 words

Harry goes to Louis in the wake of his sister Felicite's death, and Louis asks Harry to help him clean up a family cabin he is ready to get rid of. Along the way, they attempt to heal many things, even those that they thought were long past.

20) With Words Unspoken | Explicit | 18341 words

The one where Louis is lost, Harry is an excellent tour guide, and age is no barrier to finding the love of your life.

21) The Aurora Zone | Explicit | 19633 words

The one where Harry is busy crossing off his bucket list while Louis is busy falling for the guy he's supposed to hate.

22) Be Mine, Dear | Not Rated | 20104 words

The one where Louis just wants to meet his mate, and all it takes is for him to get a new neighbor.

23) Deflower Me | Explicit | 20154 words

Everyone is 19 and horny, and Louis just really wants to get fucked by Harry.

24) You Are Half Of Me (And I Am All For You) | Explicit | 24731 words

Note: This fic has a mention of BH.

One Direction, an obscure indie rock band, is about to embark on their first cross-country tour, living out of Louis' beloved van named Patricia.

Harry is in love, and Louis is oblivious. Or is he?

Featuring skinny-dipping in Texas waterfalls, getting lost in the desert, stargazing under the New Mexico sky, performing in front of crowds that grow in size each night, and falling in love on the road during the greatest summer of their lives.

25) You Are In My Bed, But Your Heart Isn't | Not Rated | 25595 words

Rock Band AU. Louis is an omega who fucks around, doesn't know the meaning of "feelings" until he starts crawling into Harry's bed at night. Harry gets jealous easily and they all write a lot of songs about each other.

26) Play Me A Memory | Explicit | 26932 words

Louis lives with his nine-year-old son Jake in a peaceful beachside community on the east coast of Australia, working as an entertainment coordinator at the local five-star resort. Harry is a recluse who lives on millionaires row and writes musical scores for blockbuster movies. When the roots of a wayward willow tree create havoc at his home, Harry is forced to stay at the resort while repairs are carried out.

27) Book Worm | Explicit | 37018 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

“Dad said this is his very favourite place to go,” Leon divulged, much to Louis' embarrassment. 

“Did he?” Harry's olive eyes flicked to Louis, lips quirking in a way that didn’t match his beige cardigan.

“Yeah and he said you have the best books. May I look?” He asked, smiling winningly.

Leon had inherited Louis' blue eyes and his mother's dark hair, his smile quickly becoming a replica of his father's.

“You may,” Harry permitted and Louis set Leon down.

“Don’t destroy anything,” he instructed. “And if you so much as crease a page then bring it to the till because I’m going to have to pay for it...”

Leon raced straight to the back of the shop and threw himself onto the beanbag seat front first.

“I put the Kama Sutra back on the top shelf, by the way,” Harry told him with a dimpled smile. “You left it by the Hungry Caterpillar.”

28) Waiting for the Tides to Meet | Explicit | 59637 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

29) Swallow The Knife | Explicit | 76168 words

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

30) There You Are | Explicit | 82237 words

Note: This fic has a mention of BH.

Harry’s entire life has fallen apart - in one night, his carefully planned future is suddenly uncertain.

Then he meets Louis.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.