#i mostly do this with artwork i made (often as gifts to others)

[ilovedthestars]

in the vein of those "try jokingly hyping yourself up instead of being self-deprecating" posts, my number one Feeling Good Life Hack is to get free compliments by complimenting yourself

example: I made my friend a bunch of pairs of earrings for her birthday once. Sometimes when I see her wearing them, I'll say "whoa, I love your earrings, someone really cool must have made those!" She'll usually grin and agree that someone really cool did make them, or that she likes them too.

this is of course best deployed with people who know it was you who actually made/did the thing you're complimenting, so they're in on the "joke" part. and if they're your friend they'll pretty much always jump on board and take the chance to compliment That Mysterious Cool Person who made/did whatever you're pointing out. so you get to compliment yourself, get compliments from other people, and make people laugh all in one.

also, if you do this enough to make this an inside joke between you, then they'll sometimes just start offering you free compliments without you even having to do the Bit. sometimes i'll just be like "oh! your earrings!" when i notice my friend wearing a pair that i made, and she'll go "yeah, someone very cool made them for me :)"

[maleyanderecafe]

Where Winter Crows Go (Visual Novel)

Created by: Pri Karin

Genre: Romance/Horror

Where Winter Crows Go is very pretty, but also the amount of Chaga jokes that Cherry and I made- Anyways, the UI and artwork that are used for this game is very pretty and it's pretty cool being able to sort of change Aspen's personality based of choices is also pretty fun, though currently it's mostly fluff with fairly little yandere content. Hopefully we'll see more of it in the future.

The MC's default name is Aspen so I will refer to them as such.

The story starts out with Aspen driving to a remote winter area as a get away to relax after their job. They end up having car troubles after they veer and crash thanks to a crow in the middle of the road. Frustrated and far from the town they were going to vacation at, Aspen trudges through the snow to find shelter. They end up finding a cabin in the middle of the woods and knocks on it before passing out. Upon waking up, we see that a man named Crowe has taken them into his cabin and is currently making them food. Crowe will end up cooking them food as well as giving them Chaga tea. The next day, while Crowe is doing something, Aspen hangs around in the living room and ends up picking up a book from the bookshelf. When Crowe walks in, he will be embarrassed since the book Aspen is reading is a book that Crowe wrote himself. Crowe brings Aspen out to go look for their car, and while they are outside, go foraging while having a nice picnic in the middle of the snow. Crowe also gifts Aspen a pair of gloves while they go out. The next day, Aspen has a dream about a crow, warning them about Crowe. Depending on your relationship with Crowe, Aspen will have different things to say, ranging from stating that they trust him, to feeling indifferent to being wary around them. After waking up, Aspen decides to try to head back into town, but Crowe stops them. Aspen gets angry at Crowe for trying to stop them, with Crowe making up excuses like the fact that there might be a blizzard. Angry, Aspen basically goes back into their room to try to calm themselves down.

I will start out by saying that Where Winter Crows Go has a very pretty UI and artwork. I've said this a lot but I genuinely really like it when visual novels and just games in general have a UI that fits well into their story, with Where Winter Crows Go having a more black and regal looking UI to fit in with the more style of winter it's going for- reminds me a bit of the black fences that you often see in winter scenes near houses. The artwork is also very pretty, from the sprites themselves to the CGs that we see, to even the small images of food-they all look really wonderful. Aesthetically, the game itself is very well made. It's also nice that there are various ways that the MC can be presented with more meek, uncertain and playful options available.

In terms of story, Where Winter Crow Go feels a bit more like a slow burn as we're shown various activities that Aspen does with Crowe, from cooking and eating, to reading to drinking... a lot of Chaga tea, to going out to explore with Crowe. As such though we don't really get to see too much yandere stuff with Crowe himself, other than a couple of lines of possession and him trying to keep Aspen inside of his cabin through various excuses. It's also likely implied that Crowe has some sort of connection over actual crows, likely the one that caused Aspen to crash in the first place was somehow correlated with crow himself, along with possibly the crow in the dreams and the various ones we see while outside. I think the voice actor does do a good job of depicting Crowe, even if he physically does sound like he wouldn't be 30 (but who knows, am I right). But as I said, we don't really know much about what type of yandere Crowe will be based on the small bits that we see in the demo. I feel like he's much more of a lighter yandere, though we also don't know the reason why Crowe is interested in Aspen in the first place since as far as we know, the two have never really met before. Again, hard to say because we don't have too much information about him as a yandere. He does seem pretty smart and fairly reasonable at least in terms of how he speaks, so I would imagine he's probably more of a protective yandere if I had to guess, but it could be different in the future. Although seriously, this guy really is addicted to Chaga Tea.

Still though, the game is fairly impressive for a demo, having already a couple of days out with very pretty artwork, good UI and a fairly long script from what I can see. I am curious to see how this and their other games will unfold in the future.

[awfuckitssunshine]

YHS as Qhosts - Taurtis

I got bored one day and decided to just randomly choose a fandom and one of its characters to turn into a Qhost, my species that is just an excuse to self-insert some OCs into different media

So I Wheel Decided some fandoms I love, got Yandere High School, and had the wheel choose between Sam, Taurtis, and Grian. I got Taurtis!

The lore is that, at some point in the YHS timeline, all 3 died and Haemal grabbed them (during their senior years at Tokyo Soul specifically). Though, while Taurtis technically died drowning, it is labeled as a homicide.

He remembers everything and was both relieved and terrified when Sam and YHS!Grian joined Haemal, knowing that means they died.

Despite the fsct Taurtis isn't all that musically gifted, his headphones were iconic, so his theme became around beats and music popularity instead of just music

With this, Taurtis is able to use his headphone jack to guide people, things, etc into following his rhythm(melody piper style), so long as the jack is plugged in somehow

Wherever he steps, Taurtis had sound waves extend from him, combining into a soft purple color when they connect

(More about Qhosts below)

Qhosts are an entire species whose job is to help people through stories and play through stories!

- Qhosts do not have regular names. (They have names like 'Omen, Annarchi, Nyx, etc)

- All Qhosts have a "theme" (mostly shows up in their weaponry. E.X, the Qhost in the artwork (Nyx) has a theme about death because she is very relaxed about death and she gets a scythe as a result.)

- Qhosts live in Haemal; an infinite void where they can make anything they desire appear (many Qhosts made 'jobs' to entertain themselves and each other, like parks and coffee shops and roads, etc)

- All Qhosts died and are pulled from their multiverse/universe into Haemal by random (Nyx, herself, was in a bus accident)

- Qhosts have several job types:

Curators - Keeps tracks of all the stories that are fully explored, with nothing left to offer

Librarians - distributing stories to Qhosts as well as keepers of storybooks/story portals

Haels - "Adventurers" who hunt down new story portals in Haemal (These three keep each other in line)

Archeologists - Qhosts that travel into new story portals, typically the "prologue" to make sure its usable and/or safe, give it a genre, etc)

Completionists - The Qhosts who complete each story to full completion

Non-Status - These Qhosts either don't go into stories often, rarely at all, or claim a story to live in as long as they desire, until they return to Haemal

( Less important but still fun lore)

- Qhosts don't actually need to eat or drink or sleep, but it definitely is energizing

- QHOSTS DO NOT HAVE TO BE HUMAN Most of them are humanoid but not all of them are human, especially in a vast set of universes

- A lot of Qhosts have genre favorites and dislikes, which Librarians keep track of(so, yknow, you dont give a dating sim specialist to a horror specialist)

- Protagonists, if there is one, are the only ones who can see the Qhosts. If there are multiple protagonists, one is focused on at a time

[klausysworld]

you can do a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson, where he walks into y/n's room (he doesn't kidnap her) every night and leaves her gifts and watches her sleep and even tells her about his day, and ends with a long statement of love.

You’re my heart and soul.

Klaus had been visiting her each night for weeks. It was his new routine, terrorise the locals, be in the centre of a war zone, fight for his life, listen to low lives and how much they despised him, drain some lesser being of their blood, go home to clean himself up and then go see his girl.

He had already memorised her sleep schedule, but it wasn’t very relevant as he came far too deep into the night for her to still be awake. On the odd chance that she was he would have to wait in her house, hidden from her eyes as he awaited sleep to take her.

He knew that perhaps this wasn’t the best way to go about his love for her and he knew that if she were to see him, she may think him to be strange and he couldn’t have her being scared before he can even begin.

And so here he was again, walking through her front door after unlocking it with his own key that he had made for himself, coming to see her.

He quietly made his way up the stairs and into her bedroom, the curtains were closer covering the locked windows, at least the other creatures of the night had lower chance of getting inside, or humans breaking in. He knew how she locked the front and back doors, windows shut tight to keep her safer. He was grateful for that.

Klaus took his usual seat in her desk chair, bringing over to the edge of her bed to sit beside her. A few times he had dared to sit on the bed with her, only once or twice did he lay with her but she began to stir awake and he panicked, it wasn’t worth the risk.

So there he sat, leaning back so the chair stood on its back legs and his upper back and head rested against the wall. His hand held her lightly enough for her body not to react much, is anything her body reacted well to his touch, often squeezing his hand or even rubbing his skin with her thumb. Occasionally he wondered if she were really asleep, he somehow hoped she was secretly always awake, and loved him too, but then..if that were the case why hasn’t she come to him yet?

His other hand’s fingers drummed against his leg as he though it over before deciding to forget about it and look at her.

So delicate in her sleep. Such a peaceful expression, soft and gentle. Her hands smooth in his, lips slightly pouted in her sleep. Something his thumb would brush over them to help him imagine how they would feel on his.

“I have something for you tonight my love” he muttered while opening the little bag he had brought

Klaus often brought a gift. Mostly subtle things, a little plant that he was put on one of the window sills, a dream catcher on her wall, a new bracelet in her drawer, snacks in the cupboard, favourite ice-cream in the freezer, that book she wanted on her shelf. He did what he could to make her life better, even if she barely noticed.

Today he decided to make himself a little more visible for her. He had made her a painting, a painting of a younger her, it was her favourite photo of herself when she was a child and all happy and innocent although Klaus would argue she still very much was from what he had been able to gather.

He decided he would hang it on her bedroom wall, his initials lay on the corner of the artwork, a clue for her. He was nervous, yes, but excited.

“I do hope you’ll like it, it’s smaller than my other paintings of you at home but I didn’t want to overwhelm you, not yet” he explained. He put the painting aside on her desk before making a very cautious move to sit with her on the bed. His hand ever so lightly touching her hair, his lips upturning as she unconsciously hummed quietly at the contact.

“You wouldn’t have liked today. There was far too much death than i would normally have liked. I believe over the years i have captured far too many enemies for my own good, i worry what they would do if they were to find out about my love for you. I also worry they would see you the way i do, that you may leave me for another” his face slowly morphed into a frown as his fingers gently caressed her head, her soft breaths filled the air as he paused and studied her sleepy face

“I don’t think you would do that to me, i believe you love me nearly as much as i do you. Or at least you could..”

“..I’m sure that one day everything will be just fine, you’ll be in my arms with one of those gorgeous smiles on your face and telling me about your day.” He smiled at her as his fingers combed through her locks

“I dream of the day you declare your love for me back. To have you tell me your feelings and for you to wholeheartedly mean them. I hope for you to be happy with me and trusting” he whispered

“You know that i would never harm you, never. I would rather give my own life a thousand times over than watch you be in pain. I will protect you and your heart with my life. For i love you more than i ever thought it to be possible. Nobody has ever loved anyone the way i do you. All i hope is that one day you may say that too” slowly he leant down so his lips could hover over her face. A feather like kiss awarded to her cheek as a sign of his affection.

“You are my heart and soul” he uttered, another kiss, this time at the corner of her mouth.

“I love you very much” he promised before standing up. He silently put the chair back to it’s place. His feet carried him over to the wall opposite her bed and he hung up the painting he had created. He slowly made his way back out of the house, his heart swelled in the best of ways as he damn near skipped home.

[autumnslance]

Hey Aeryn, I was wondering what you recommend to get past FOMO and overthinking. I know I shouldn't feel this way but I can't shake it. I want to play all of the story but I start to feel anxious. I start overthinking and second-guessing and the cycle starts again. I have a WOL I'm enjoying writing but I can't get her to translate in-game. Any advice?

I admit, I don't often get FOMO, but when I do, I stop and ask myself: is this something I actually want to do? A place I actually want to go? An experience I need? An item I want? Or am I just reacting to others, especially friends, having fun and talking about a thing together, so it's pinging a social desire/need?

Cuz I can interact and talk with my friends in other ways and places. I don't have to do all the things they do, play the games they play, etc. I use in built filters and blacklists on my social media to not see things about games/shows/etc that I don't want hear about, and I stop following a lot of (usually sideblogs) accounts that deal with those topics. When I left WoW behind, I dropped a lot of those blogs, for instance.

(I think some people would be happier if they put down media they don't actually enjoy but only watch/play because the people in their lives do.)

What about playing the game is making you anxious? Is it doing the content? Most can be done solo now, but friends can help with the stuff that can't be, or there's always duty finder. Is it story and character direction? Afraid things will happen to your faves, or they'll grown and change in ways you don't care for? That's a risk in any ongoing media, and up to an individual where their "I'm done" point is where they don't enjoy that lore and canon anymore, and then make the decision to change it in fanfiction or drop the story altogether.

With everyone talking about new content right now, even trying to keep spoilers under wraps, it can be rough for sure. Everyone has opinions! And screenshots! And there's new fanfic!

Is the anxiety because of the WoL you started writing, and how she doesn't "translate" in game, and afraid the lore will continue to make that harder?

In that case, look at what the character is, what you've written...and what the character (your subconscious, really) is telling you they actually are, or need. If they don't fit the canon lore...It's OK. Change the story to fit as needed. Or....play through it and see what ends up working after all, with the benefit of knowledge.

You can't lock a character in stone; a story happens because characters want something (large or small), and in the course of the story they are changed in some way (large or small). WoL is an anime protagonist with plotstrong abilities and gifts that give players a lot of leeway in any direction. Some people don't play WoLs at all. Their OC is a person they roleplay and write about in the setting, the plot happens to someone else, and they just play the video game with that avatar.

So what isn't "translating"? Is it appearance related that can't be done without mods and artwork? Disabilities that likewise are tricky to show in game (which assumes a mostly able-bodied WoL)? A backstory that seems to not fit (the world's bigger than what we see)? A lot of detailed backstory and supporting cast that now make you feel boxed into a corner?

It can be hard, seeing people with deeply developed stories and characters and supporting cast, but you also have to remember: a lot of that is built over time. Aeryn didn't have nearly the detailed list of relatives to start, didn't have the "dad was a secret heretic" backstory until 4 years into playing her. I still haven't named all of Dark's siblings. I've seen some folks entirely rewrite their characters cuz something in an expansion spoke to them and it made more sense and made them happier than what they did before.

When I start overthinking a character story, I put the backstory away, and just play them for a bit. I keep a vague idea of what I think their personality might be, what reactions would seem right. And then I let "them" guide me as I play. And sometimes what a character tells me ends up far more interesting. Or I find the stuff I was anxious about adding to them...ends up being canon, or at least working out, anyway.

And if the concern is what other people will think about one's WoL....well, you can't control what others think. And trying to please everyone leaves you with a milquetoast bland sop who isn't interesting at all. Care about the character you want to write, even if that changes, and make them as interesting as you want.

I was saying in a convo yesterday that the shrieking about "Mary Sue and how to not be one" caused lasting societal trauma and people are still afraid of giving characters interesting traits and stories. A person was anxious about giving their WoL traits that might make them 'too much' or 'too special' but they're traits WoL canonically has. We're in an anime story as anime protagonists, be wild and weird. Not everyone will like it, and that's good, actually. Cuz others will love it, and it means you gave your writing and characters personality.

Final Fantasy XIV is a game that 90% of the time, the content isn't going anywhere. You go at your pace, you enjoy the story and side content. There's a lot, after 11 years. Do what you gotta to avoid spoilers, gushing, complaining, or otherwise talk about content you're not in yet to reduce the worry everyone else is having fun while you're spinning wheels a few expacs back. Figure out what you enjoy and love about the game, and focus on that for awhile. Let your WoL breathe, and just play without plotting out how they translate or fit, and remember stories aren't set in stone; they have to be malleable. Especially when trying to write/roleplay in someone else's world!

You should be in this for yourself. Because you find it fun, relaxing, enjoyable to experience. Because you want to tell a character's story even if it takes a hard left turn from canon lore. And if you have to mute and filter out and block some things and people on social media or chat or whatever, do what works for you. But when overthinking, turn that around and interrogate yourself: "OK, why do I feel this way? Why would this be bad? Do I want this or am I trying to follow the crowd?" Make lists, pros and cons. Figure out if it's actually FOMO and anxiety...or if you're trying to tell yourself something and you're just not listening.

Give yourself grace. This game is just one piece of our life's tapestry, and while there's probably friends who want to see you clear content, the world won't end if you don't catch up to the current patch right away, or write a 200k fic about your WoL's life by year's end, either. Go at your pace.

[whentheleahvesfall]

Hi folks, whilst I’ve now officially graduated from uni on Wednesday (yeeeeaaaahhhhh!!!), I’ve been now wanting to catch up on doing Art Fight attacks since I’ve been busy up until this point to try and get some time to myself 😭😭 However, an idea cropped up in my head that I’d like to ask you guys. A lot of the time my main blog has now mostly taken up a lot of reblogs for artwork that I really like the look of and any I find that I enjoy a lot, I use tags to try and allow myself to find the post again if I ever want to allow me to smile. As a result, art that I’ve posted in the past has often gotten obscured by my tendency to often go overboard (Autism go brrrr), and so to think about it, I wondered if creating a separate art blog going forward would be the right choice so then that way my posts can have a better structure to how they appear. I’ve seen a lot of other people have accounts dedicated to specific things they like, so for me, I would only use this separate blog for art that’s made by me or if it involves my OCs in gift art and commissions, and this would only be its intended purpose, so no reblogs from any other places as then that way people can find something I post that if they want to share, then they can. I’ll go ahead and post a poll for the next day as I post this, and I want to see what you all have to say :)

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

Ensuring an Outlook

A/N: a story of how a person decided to camp out at a mall... for a specific purpose. for an opportunity to obtain something they've been anticipated about. Word Count: 629 T.W/C.W: None-ish

***

“Attention shoppers!" a voice screeched from speakers above the wall's corners. "All stores are about to be closed in ten minutes."

The sound of groans and huffs erupted from crowds from different shops. Lines of cart wheels rolled against the linoleum floor. Customers clamour or shuffle as they occupied queues towards the cashiers, who were scanning items' prices. Some other employees pack them up.

Outside each shops were tents and beds set up nearby areas already closed. The crescent moon hovered behind transparent windows going up to six floors.

Some people were camping out (or in, since they technically were indoors) mostly by a clothing shop. However, some other people also lounged outside book or tech stores.

Kerrie, a millennial with a 3k salary from a menial job, happened to be one of them. And they weren't in for a treat. Rather, they harumphed and rolled on their back. Staring at the high ceiling just as some lights shut off.

Gah! Ugh! If only the announcement was made prior to the launch, they wouldn’t be at the mall in haste. They’d have much more time to be prepared.

Kerrie frowned, sprawled across their make-shift sheet. They prop themself on their elbow while their eyes wander to a store, which they intend to go.

They would do what it takes to get what they wanted.

After they sat up, a riff of an electric guitar pealed from their phone's speaker. Without taking a look at the screen, they answered it.

"Yooo, dude, you went ahead with that scheme of yours?" a baritone asked with a tsk. "'Cause I don't see you in your place. And you left no food before you left? How cold of you."

They felt their face twisting. "C'mon, you crashed into my house?"

"To be fair, you gifted me the keys," Hudson replied, his voice slightly shrill. "So, I can do what I want with it. And crash in your house as I please."

“Why are you… whatever." Kerrie threw a palm against their face, shaking their head.

"You are seriously not reconsidering your scheme, aren't you?"

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this. This manga's limited edition and it's gonna be available in the store here. It's the latest edition with a sick artwork that I've obsessed for weeks."

"Whoa, okay, chill. I ain't dissin' your hobbies. Still… a bit much."

"Hey, you'd be doing the same if it was a deluxe album by some band you like."

"…nah, nah, I wouldn't be in the mall at night for that."

"Bullshit, you liar."

"Well, maybe… maybe I'd be after a Blackpink album…"

"So, now you see why I gotta do this?"

"Okay, a bit. Still, you coulda just slept and wait."

Before they could swear, darkness overtook their surroundings. They threw their head back and winced.

"Eh, I'm sure it'll work out in my favor," they said, glancing at the shelf of books behind a window.

"Sure, you gotta." Hudson cackled. "Alright, see ya when ya get back. And bring some snacks! Your food stash is just bleh."

"Fine, see ya later," they grumbled despite themself.

With a snort, they turned the call off. Slipping their phone back into their jacket pocket.

At some point, they could agree with their friend. They could be determined and inane even in the most ludicrous way. However, limited edition items didn't get released so often. And it got sold out fast.

So, yeah. . . they would do anything to buy it. Commit treason, perhaps. Besides, they refused to bail. Although, they should have showed up a bit earlier… for the food court. They would have bought something to munch on, at least.

Whatever. They could get it as a reward for their grand scheme.

***

[elstreem]

So here is Zoe, my OC in this story where she is a witch healer!

To begin explaining all this...she's originally a Zelda OC, a Minish character I originally wrote in what still is an OCxVaati ship, haha. As time went on and I got to know her better, I added to her story and even wrote up more lore and worlbuilding stuff for the Picori, stuff regarding elements and apprenticeships (it's somewhere on my blog, something like Minish headcanons, though some of it might be outdated now.)

But I got to know her so well and when I made this design for her, I finally found a story for her where she could be her own character - so here she is, a witch-healer in a world where humans live alongside stranger folk, fairies, demons and deities. This is pretty long so I'll put it under the cut.

Zoe is a fairy-born, meaning she is of human and fairy blood (her mother is a full wind fairy, her father is human but with fae heritage, making her mostly fae herself). Being fairy born, Zoe has natural aptitude for magic - to be specific, she can absorb and generate an impressive amount of magical energy within herself, exemplary even by fairy standards. She does have a limiter of sorts, however - she can never channel that energy towards any feat of destructive intent (great power usually has limits of that sort - for that matter, divinity-level beings cannot interfere with the mortal realm because of how great their power is. It sort of balances out.).

So Zoe became a healer to best use her abilities, and she travels around looking for patients to heal and cases to solve. Specifically, she is best at breaking curses, what with her natural ability to absorb magic. Her job does involve normal medicinal procedures like administering medicine or occasionally even surgery, but half of her job is being a mediator between her human patients and oftentimes nonhuman entities who issued the curses because of some slight. It is an exhausting job, though, and very much dangerous, since she does often earn the ire or scorn of other nonhuman entities. To break a curse, she usually resolves a misunderstanding between her patient and the curse giver, but if a curse will not be revoked, she expends her own magic energy to neutralize the curse. If I ever do write a a story for her I picture it as similar to Black Jack or Mushi-shi in terms of narrative...I am huge fans of both, but the thing is I'm fairly bad at writing self-contained short stories. I'm pretty used to writing (and not actually finishing) longer stories.

…I did include Vaati in this story too, a fae-demon who specializes in magical craftsmanship and also making curses of his own lol. They're complete opposites in their nature, but they get along surprisingly well. But since Vaati isn't mine, if I ever write out Zoe's story as my own project I will have to leave him out or maybe change the personality I gave him into my own character. This explains why he's in some other artworks like these ones:

And yeah, the backstory behind the scissors is that it's a gift from Vaati. And yes, Zoe does call it Shearious Business.

Some other stuff about Zoe:

-She was a cheerful kid growing up, but became rather serious as a healer, and can't blame her seeing how risky it is. Outwardly, she is no-nonsense and impersonal when dealing with patients, but she is still something of a romantic at heart. It's just very hard to see this side of her unless you're a close friend of hers.

-Since she constantly absorbs and generates magic, she has a LOT of hair where some of it is stored, and an easy way for her to dispense magical energy into her medicines is to cut off locks and put them in. So in reality, her hair often has bits where it's been weirdly chopped off (she usually takes a bit off her sidelocks.) Her hair grows pretty fast though, in a matter of days, and she's constantly cutting it off to either sell or keep for her own uses.

-Those scars on her arms? Every bit of her body is steeped in magical energy, not just her hair, and one of the most potent sources is her blood. So she's often cut her arms to let out some blood. She cuts rather cleanly and heals fast, so honestly if you're not looking for them, you'd hardly see her scars. Only fresh ones would be most visible.

-As a witch, she does have a familiar, a raven spirit called Argon. He's a wise, guardian sort of familiar, and comes to her whenever she needs help, usually for advice or just some talk since she's pretty capable on her own.

-As for her faery side, her mother was a wind spirit, and with it comes a link to avian and butterfly features. Zoe is...mostly human-shaped, but she's also partly butterfly-like in nature, which can be seen in her features (the shape of her eyes, hair, etc.). She's pretty sensitive to smells and vibrations in the air, something which helps in her job. Also, she's an absolute sweet tooth - could probably eat cups of sugar if she let herself, but she tries to limit it to fruits. Her preference for coffee is to smother it in huge amounts of sugar and cream until she can barely taste the coffee. Monstrous, I know.

-I did say her magical energy cannot be used for feats of destruction, and as a healer she has an oath to do no harm. But for self-defense, if she absolutely has to, she can invert her knowledge of healing to seriously wreck a body. She knows how to close a wound and she very much well knows how to open one, is what I'm saying. This is skirting on the very edge of her nature though, and if she does something that goes much too against her nature as a healer she will suffer terrible backlash, which will cause her pain and temporarily cripple her magic system.

So even though she's kind of scary with how many sharp things she's carrying, they're actually mostly only for preparing medicines from plants and such.

Don't ever tempt her to use Shearious Business on you though.

[lady-nuggetz]

"You'll rue the day you humiliated me, My Melo!!"

Hey love bugs!! 💕Welcome to my devilish little blog!!

If you're already following, dw this is just an intro I'm gonna pin :"]

My Name is Nugget!

I also go by a few kin names as well, Kuromi, Jevil, Angel, etc.

I'm female, she/her, 19 years old! Bisexual & Demisexual! My birthday is February 4th! 🩷💜💙

I'm Colombian & Puerto Rican! English speaker but I also know a small bit of Spanish! 🇨🇴🇵🇷

I mainly do artwork of my favorite things, play games, and love eating sweets! I love cute gothic things and shipping with all my favorite fictional characters! Pink is my favorite color! 🩷

My Interests Are:

Sonic the Hedgehog [I mostly post that here]

Sanrio

Mega Man

Scott Pilgrim

Super Mario

Five Nights at Freddy's

X-Men

Splatoon

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Cookie Run

Pokémon

And a whole lot more!

Breaking off the post here, so if you would like to read some extra information such as comms, dnis, and other things, you can check below!

Do Not Interact

Please do NOT interact with me if you are any of the following:

Racist and/or Xenophobic

Sexist and/or Mysogistic

Homophobic, Transphobic, against LGBTQ+ entirely

Ableist

Zionist

Pr0ship, C0mship, if you just think that fiction has no effect on reality to justify drawing weird shit

If you're a """MAP""" you're just a pedo

If you are associated with anyone who's caused me severe trauma, or ARE someone who has caused me severe trauma

If you want to draw nsfw of my ocs, that makes me extremely uncomfortable and I would rather you not interact with me if that's something you seek from me

You think that oc x canon/selfshipping is cringe or problematic

Literally if you're just someone who hurts others for your own benefit

Socials & Kin List

My other socials and my kin list can be found via my carrd! I am heavily active on my Instagram, however I am also active on Discord for personal dms and such!

Art Commissions

My commissions are often open, though make sure to check if they're open for purchase!! If you would like to buy a commission from me feel free to hit me up in a dm!!

I have a post detailing my commission information RIGHT HERE!!

You may also check my seperate commission carrd for these same details!

Please note that I take Cashapp, PayPal, Venmo, and gift cards for Nintendo eShop, PlayStation Store, and Roblox.

Commissions are also non refundable, and if my work output is delayed, I apologize.

If you made it this far, congratulations!!

Thank you for taking the time to check out my intro! Feel free to follow me if you love my art!

My ask box is always open as well, so don't be afraid to send me something! I always love taking questions! You can check my tag, #nuggetz ask box for more of my q&a's!! Have a nice day!

[paintedkinzy-88]

Ink lowkey looks like a tie dye disaster sometimes and I’m okay with this.

Also hello, I became Even Smarter and actually made use of my 5 dragon based information books for this, with all their many diagrams. In other words, his skeleton is more accurate to what I wanted than what I have for Nightmare OR Dream’s ref sheets _(」∠ ､ﾝ､)_

That doesn’t mean their refs are inaccurate or anything. I just don’t like how I did Dream’s ribs or Nightmare’s spine. XD

Ink, God of Creativity

Full Dragon Form Reference

Half Dragon Form Reference (WIP)

Dragon Breath:

Acidic Ink

A dark, saliva-like liquid in Ink’s mouth that burns to the touch. He’s able to spit it at a distance semi-successfully, but he finds it’s far more effective to just gather it up in his mouth and bite, locking his jaw to both hold onto the victim and continuously burn them directly in the wound. He doesn’t often use this in a fight, because he finds it to be a little too vicious for him. It’s usually only used when he is lost to pure instincts and desperate to correct his side of the Balance. He has found other uses for it, though, like burning through things (branches, metal poles, thin doors, etc), disposing of trash, or even random artistic purposes.

The ink is able to burn through most material, though it won’t continue doing so forever as it does quickly dissipate. It cannot hurt his own bones or ecto, unless he doesn’t wash it off for a few hours. Even then, it’s a very slight burning sensation — nowhere close to the damage it deals to others.

General Abilities:

• Ink keeps all of his usual abilities:

- Creating paint/ink attacks

- Creating objects out of said paint/ink

- Traveling and teleporting via ink puddles

• Flight (though his landing isn’t always great)

• Longer jumps (very useful in the Doodle Sphere)

• Typical physical attacks, like clawing, biting, wrapping around someone, or ramming with his horns.

Hoard:

As planned by the same “beings” that fated them to be dragons of the Balances, Ink’s hoard was supposed to be the AUs. This would have strengthened his role as the Protector and the God of Creation, therefore benefiting his Balance. However, as Destruction is also necessary, Ink would have had to constantly deal with the pain of losing his hoard.

Error changed this fate without Ink’s knowledge. After they’d mostly befriended each other and established a truce between their own Balance, he purposefully influenced Ink’s hoarding instincts by spontaneously gifting him random art supplies. This was usually just anything he could pick up from worlds he was destroying, but there were definitely more considerate occasions where he’d hunt down something Ink mentioned he was interested in. This was incredibly meaningful to Ink, and it eventually turned into his hoarding item.

Ink very well can make his own supplies, but he finds it much more satisfying to get them himself (or get them from Error, who, even after Ink said he’d established his hoard, continues to bring supplies for him). He often steals from worlds he’s passing through, or occasionally takes small things like pencils and paper from friends’ homes. He leaves his hoard anywhere he trusts, which so far has only been his own home, the Anti-Void, Dream’s home, and (briefly) the empty remains of X-Tale. Not included here are the pieces of artwork he gives to people he trusts, which would still count as a part of his hoard, but a part he’s more willing to share.

Extra Info:

• Ink is the only one out of the six shifters who gained his role as the God of Creation before becoming a shifter. Truthfully, he and Error are the only ones that had to become a shifter in the first place — the others just came into existence like that.

• Though it’s never been officially talked about, both Ink and Error are well aware that all the knitting and sewing supplies in the Anti-Void are a part of Ink’s hoard. He doesn’t use them, he doesn’t take them (unless asking), but they are hoard, and Error constantly finds them buried under canvases, sketchbooks, and palettes. With the amount of times he’s watched Ink literally toss brushes into his fabric boxes right in front of him, Error’s just given up on trying to keep it all organized.

• Ink is likely the most cat-like out of them all. He’s hopped into boxes, batted at something dangling in his reach, sleeps in any and all positions, and will get onto anything he thinks will hold him.

• XGaster had never seen a shifter before. He did not know how they worked, nor did he really care to think it through, especially in the moment. When he used Overwrite on Ink, he wasn’t entirely correct in how to properly adjust his code into being a shifter. This makes Ink just a little different from the others. More specifically, this is why the process of shifting between forms for him is so broken and painful.

- Truthfully, XGaster would have fixed that for him when he got out of the vial. He wants everything to be perfect, afterall. No matter how many times he has to try for it. He never gets the chance to do so, though.

• When overwhelmed or upset, Ink often runs away to an unknown or empty AU to curl up and wait for his colors to fade away. He doesn’t usually talk to anyone about what’s bugging him, because he thinks as the Protector and God he should be able to handle anything. However, this is partially also because of XGaster using his rambling against him, both verbally and physically, thus instilling a fear he doesn’t fully know about that his friends will betray him and use his insecurities against him. He’s currently working on it. But for now, Error is the only one he truly talks to.

• If you really took the time to learn what each and every color, shade, and tint stood for, you could tell exactly what Ink was feeling based on his ecto alone. This is very helpful when he’s trying to hide something — any hints of blues, cyan, or purples are great indicators that he’s Not Okay. Usually, he’s seen in varying shades of pinks, yellows, and greens, constantly mixing and swirling around within his magic.

• He truly does care for Cross, despite the soldier really disliking Ink.

[francoisl-artblog]

Concept art for a redesign of Gertrude as an Evil Empress, more based in her alliance with Darketh Deddeath from the comic I Hate Fairyland. It's basically what she could've have been if her reign as the ruler of Fairyland was more impactful. Since the Lord of Darkness gave her darks power and all, I thought it would be funnier if her design was more undead and with skull, more similar to her master. She's not technically "undead", but since her soul is completely consumed by Darketh's power, it gave her this apparence with a really pale, almost completely white skin, and black eyes with green glowing iris. Her favorite axe has been redecorated with skull element, once again, a little gift from Deddeath. Even though she doesn't use it as often, since her magic can destroy basically anyone in no time. In short, she's the way too OP final Boss that doesn't always have a fun fight. In this timeline, she actually managed to rule over most of Fairyland, and abandon the title of queen for "Empress." She's know by many names, including Darketh Empress, the Gruesome ruler, the one who never loose a fight or simply Gertrude. Because, well, she's still Gertrude in many ways : rude, immature, not so nice and being an evil overlord doesn't help. However, with the time spent as an empress, she's more strategic and patient. Well, although she may be still stubborn for little insignificant things. For instance, she fell in total love for skulls ornaments, and practically filled her world with it. Sometimes, it's actual skulls from former living beings. Larry is still her right hand servant. This time, he's learning dark magic to helps Gert with most of her chores. He's doing most of the busy works that Gertrude tend to neglect. Their relations mostly the same. Among her lackeys, most of them are undead armor guy, skeletons, zombies, and others necromancer including Horribella the Witch and Bart of the Blackness. Duncan is still there too, and has known Gert before her reign. He is Gertrude's precious "Dragon beast", although he's still just a boy in a dragon suit, although he's still have his fire breathing power and Flying capacity. Darketh didn't made him an overlord like Gert, simply because he's way too nice to be one. Instead, he's mainly located in Gert's fort, trying to spend his time doing various things, since Gert is too busy to let him accompany her during conquest. He tries his best to please Gert with various things, although he's a bit afraid of her anger. IHF (c) Skottie Young and Image Comics Artwork, design and concept art made by me.

[shijiujun]

Danmei Bookstore Masterpost - Where to Buy Your Usual Books

Heya guys! Okay so I get these questions really often - where to get digital or physical copies for danmei; there are plenty of guides for the digital copies so I’m just going to briefly mention other guides that have been done up and focus mostly on which “legit” bookstores you can get your simplified, traditional Chinese danmeis :DDDD And some familiar terms you might see. 

This list includes only links to the Chinese sources - With the exception of one bookstore, I’m clueless on if there are actually official EN translated sources. It’s not entirely exhaustive but it’ll probably help you to discern real from fake stores! 

---

Common Terms:

预售 yu shou — Pre-order; most danmei books published are usually pre-order when the listing is first announced, quite rarely do I see immediate sales

通版 tong ban — In stock; you’ll see this most often with traditional Chinese (Taiwan) prints, that are usually limited edition or available only during pre-order periods and are sold again after the pre-orders are all fulfilled

陆商 lu shang — Chinese bookstores

北美 bei mei — Literally translated is North America i.e. Via Lactea, the only store that currently sells uncensored Chinese and translated EN danmei for selected titles (see below)

无删(减) wu shan (jian) — Uncensored, no deleted parts

---

Why buy from China bookstores? They’re cheap, come with tons of freebies that vary from store to store. Pre-orders usually take about 2-3 months to deliver, but the content is censored. Still good to get for the artwork and freebies though! The ones below, unless otherwise stated, can be found on their Taobao official stores. Usually when a notable title is published, ALL of them will list the new title with varying freebies.

✅ 博库网 Boku Wang

One of China’s biggest general bookstores; they don’t take in every single danmei that comes to publish, only the major ones (e.g. Sha Po Lang, 2ha), but when they do, their freebies are out of this world XD

✅ 锦瑟闻香 Jinse 

One of the more reliable bookstores in terms of choice of artists and freebies. Recently I think Jinse got into an agreement with Chang Pei, one of the danmei online publishing sites, to make official danmei merch for certain titles. Got into a bit of trouble if I recall with the bigger artists for Sha Po Lang for using their art (with permission) but erasing the artist’s watermark (without permission) and had to scrap their initial plans 2 days before the book PO went live, but other than that, has been okay. Takes on every danmei set to publish in China

✅ 快乐图书 Kuaile

A hit and miss, but for major titles they’ve managed to get quite good artists and freebies made.

✅ 源创 Yuan Chuang

Also another hit and miss, more known for hilariously missing the mark entirely i.e. unable to get any artists to offer their art to them for book prints, but they’ve gotten real good at it recently. And their weibo admin is hilarious, users poke fun at the store for missing out on freebies but all in fun. 

✅ 天宇图书 Tian Yu

Mostly sells without freebies and art, only the book itself and its intended gifts inside. Helpful for when you don’t have space anymore for freebies or don’t like the freebies and just wanna have the book itself.

✅ 磨铁 Mo Tie

A really small bookstore but shines from time to time e.g. their print for 2ha.

✅ 翰联图书 Han Lian

Hit and miss as well, more hits than misses for artwork and freebies! Takes on every danmei set to publish in China

✅ 新华文轩网 Wen Xuan

Used to be more hit than misses, nowadays it’s mostly misses XD They’re still pretty reputable and is also a general bookstore, but their artwork/freebies recently have been terrible!!! Takes on every danmei set to publish in China

✅ 新视角 Xinshijiao

MY GODDAMN FAVE!!!! I don’t know how XSJ does it but they NEVER miss when it comes to art and freebies. They either get the best or second best always!!! Packaging is great, customer service is great~ Takes on every danmei set to publish in China

✅ 心诺 Xin Nuo

Had one of the nicer Sha Po Lang print box cases, but has a history of stealing art without permission for their freebies.

✅ 风入松 Feng Ru Song

This store does either the super big name prints or the super small ones, never the in between, hilariously, but their gifts are also pretty good when they do!! Feels a lot like an indie type of bookstore 

✅ 酷威 Ku Wei

Only does gifts for super big prints, otherwise they just sell books normally on its own.

✅ MANCOOL (China Address Only)

A bookstore accessible only on WeChat! They’re pretty cool; they don’t do prints for all danmei that come to publish in China in the pipeline, but they usually work in conjunction with one or two bookstores as mentioned above. They have their own freebies/gifts, and because they’re on WeChat, they sometimes to extra gifts via online games on gachapon!!!!

✅ 萝卜 Luo Bo

OOOMPPPPPHHHH okay Luo Bo is NOT an official bookstore or danmei seller, but their reputation is REALLYYYY GOOOOD. Their unofficial stores on Taobao and Weidian (China only) basically sell limited in stocks from Taiwan, so if you missed out on the Taiwan preorder, you CAN camp and wait for their notice and listing to buy them. Well-known in the Chinese danmei community for selling authentic/rare ones!

✅ 诚品 Eslite

Functions like Books TW, sells any Taiwanese danmei print if there’s stock e.g. TGCF or anything from Pinsin. General bookstore, ships internationally BUT if I recall, slightly more complicated to buy on Eslite than on Books TW as you have to input your passport number.

✅ Animate TW (Taiwan Address only)

Sells selected, popular danmei and BL works from China, Taiwan, Korea and more! Also sells merch. Recently more known for selling the TGCF Traditional TW prints.

✅ 博客来 Books TW

Ships internationally! My to-go for usual danmei prints or those from Pinsin that are not on pre-order. Shipping goes by DHL ($20 to SG for like 5-6 books), get it within the same week. Easy-to-use interface when checking out, just a tad bit more checkout pages than necessary but ain’t complaining. General bookstore in Taiwan, the biggest online one.

✅ 平心 Pinsin

OUR FAVE DANMEI PUBLISHER FROM TAIWAN!!! Super reliable, has a functioning site, knows how to configure landing pages for big pre-orders, has clear instructions in English on how to buy etc. Always makes deadlines for prints, and plenty of stock most of the time!!!

✅ 墨扉 Mo Fei

Known for uncensored version of Nan Chan and other nice titles - Site looks okay to use so far (much better than others tbh), but they do POs like once every two months or something! Takes about 6 months or more to print a book after preorder but acceptable so far

✅ 威向 Wei Xiang 

I’m actually super impressed with the range Wei Xiang has! They carry plenty of danmei books, old and new, known and unknown, and while their login account needs like some updates, their cart has the least number of pages I’ve seen amongst all the TW bookstores so far, easy check out too!

✅ 葭霏 Jia Fei 

GOD where do I start with Jia Fei. They’re notorious for taking 10,000 years to produce one book (*ahem* 2ha) and their customer service sucks. Their website is prehistoric, and you have to email or call in via Facebook to make any sort of orders via a third party argh IDEK. They’re terrible with updates after PO as well, the only saving grace is that they do take on some of the popular titles, which honestly is shite for international customers especially. Of course once you get the hang of it, it’s fine, or if you get the items through a GO, but yeah.... I’d take any other bookstore ANYTIME.

✅ 壹乐 Yi Le

So Yi Le is one of the newer players in the industry (since 2019) and only recently started to produce danmei regularly! They’ve got good covers, they select good titles, but their website is useless - You have to be on Weibo for updates XD

There are a few more lesser known ones like 顶狄社 Ding Di, 出格文化 Chu Ge, 槐安 Huai An etc., but the above are the more recognizable ones!

✅ Via Lactea (Canada)

Recently, this would be one of my favourite bookstores. They’re located in Canada of all places and sell BOTH uncensored Chinese and official, translated EN danmeis - but for selected titles only. I’m not sure how they managed to cut a deal BUT in terms of niche/small danmei prints, Via Lactea is possibly your best bet.

It has great covers, super aesthetic and artistic ones. Nothing is censored, and it comes with plenty of freebies as well, including some new epilogues or extras. They function like a China bookstore but with much better resources, and they take on smaller name danmeis!! 

Local shipping in Canada is cheap, and expensive anywhere else, BUT if you ship back to China to your warehouse or proxy, shipping is FREE, and you only have to pay for China warehouse/proxy to yourself.

They don’t have a huge team, so they contract translators to translate danmei, currently the speed seems to be two titles per year, and they’re also venturing into ebook versions, in both Chinese and EN.

✅ Cam Phong (Vietnam)

Vietnam’s main publisher of danmei, has done 2ha, TGCF and other notable titles so far! Their local artists do the covers really, really well!! Freebies are amazing too

✅ Clover Book (Thailand)

Thailand’s main publisher of danmei, has done 2ha and other notable titles, and also some smaller danmeis too!

✅ B Lab (Korea)

Sort of a new player for danmei prints, and they only do selected big prints e.g. TGCF and 2ha! 

✅ JJWXC 晋江

This one needs no explanation I think. Biggest online danmei, baihe and yanqing novels. Here’s how to support your fave authors at a low, affordable price.

✅ Gongzicp 长佩

The other well-known danmei online platform. While JJWXC has a bulk of all danmeis, Chang Pei actually has like 40% of danmei novels I think? Which is quite a lot. If it’s not on JJWXC, 90% chance it’s on Chang Pei

✅ Bilibili Manhua

Downloadable from App store or just read on desktop. First 30 chapters+ are usually free then they start charging, but it’s easy to get credits via App store or Play store.

✅ Bilibili Comics (EN)

Usually one or a few chapters behind the original Chinese version.

✅ Kuaikan Manhua

If it’s not on Bilibili Manhua, it’s on Kuaikan, for sure. Works the same way as Bilibili manhua!

[watchmegetobsessed]

Tastes Like Strawberries - Harry Styles

a/n: oh this one is a long boi and might not be the end??? i’ve been working on this fic for days and i have an idea for a possible second part, but i wrote this one so it has a fulfilling ending so it can stand as a oneshot as well! i barely just started working on the sequel, we’ll se how it’ll turn out, maybe it goes to shit lmao but whatever, it’s still a nice and whole story without a second part! this is my V-day gift to you all, have this nice professor!harry fic as if it was a box of chocolate! 🍓 🍫 🍬

special thanks to @pastequeharry​ who put up with my constant rambling and whining while i was writing this, you are a hero, his is dedicated to you!!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content, abusing relationship, it’s got smut, angst, lot’s of banter and all that jazz!

word count: 21.4k

masterlist

There’s just a handful of things to know about Professor Harry Styles and that’s because of one of those very few known facts, the first one being that he is a highly private person. He rarely talks about himself or any aspects of his life, he always makes sure to keep it as professional as possible whenever he is teaching.

Second, he is easily the smartest professor to ever walk on campus, but he doesn’t like to brag about it. You never catch him showing off how much he knows, how big of a genius he is, you’ll just start to realize from the way he teaches and approaches certain topics, how he interacts with others and tries to pass his knowledge down to his students. He is brilliant and he should have all the credits for it, yet he still chooses to keep it to himself.

Third, and it’s the most well-known fact because to see this you just need to have a pair of eyes, he is undeniably the most handsome man to ever teach or if you’re being more precise, walk the hallways of the university. No football crazy, alcoholic fratboy or dreamy looking indie guy from the library can live up to what Professor Harry Styles is. With a face clearly carved by the angels, a nicely built but not too muscular frame, and occasionally displayed tattooed arm that makes you wonder what other artworks his stylish outfits are hiding, there’s no man like him and every female on campus agrees with that.

His lectures and courses are jampacked with sighing and heart-eyed college girls, daydreaming about the man who is solemnly just trying to teach the things he is so passionate about. But it’s not just the students, Professor Styles has managed to charm the female professors of all faculties, you can see them wander by his office way too often, they take any opportunity to talk to the man and try to seduce him. It’s unknown if he is oblivious to the effect he has on women or he chooses to ignore every and any attempts, but this is what leads us to the fourth fact.

Despite all the effort and energy that’s been put into his case by every single woman on campus to break the walls the professor has built around himself, he never let any of his students or colleagues to even think they could be romantically linked for real. Professor Styles keeps his distance and turns down any offer that could be mistaken to anything that doesn’t fit in the professional boundaries.

Anytime a student puts on the slightest flirtatious act towards the professor, he either rejects it straight away or ignores it completely and blatantly, making it his clear answer that he is not interested and then he goes back to teaching. You’ve seen it yourself, having him as one of your professors first year of uni, you fell for him just like every other girl in the lecture hall, dreaming about him in ways you probably shouldn’t think of a teacher while he was just casually talking about his grading system and how he is going to build up the lectures throughout the semester. Some brave girls who you assume were highly celebrated by boys in high school took the courage to openly flirt with him, but he didn’t even flinch before shutting all attempts down, not even a blush appeared on his perfectly cut cheekbones.

You thought of ways you’d try to seduce him yourself, but you never actually tried. You never had the balls to actually give it a go and then suffer from the worst embarrassment of your life when he rejects you. So you kept it all to yourself, only entertaining yourself with your elaborate plans about the seduction of your professor.

Second year passed without any classes with Professor Styles, you had only occasionally seen him come and go, rushing down the hallways holding his notebooks to his chest, a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand as he was heading to his lecture hall that you just knew was filled with girls. You always took a moment to yourself to admire his outfit. He has a tendency to pair odd items and make them look like the most put together fit ever that only he can pull off. However, you and your girlfriends always loved to tease him between each other for his grandpa-like sweaters and vests he seemed to love dearly.

“He confuses me, because I want him to fuck me on his desk but also, I feel like he is about to ask me what periodt means because he is too old to understand slang these days,” your friend, Nat said once when your little group was lounging under the huge oak tree between classes and the professor rushed past you, disappearing in the building without paying any of you a look. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a striped sweater, a wrinkly grey shirt peeking from under it at the bottom. The colors and the style overall once again gave you that old people feeling, but then you looked at his handsome face and couldn’t care any less about whatever he was wearing.

The most intimate way you ever saw him was a few days after your twenty-first birthday the summer before your last year of uni started. You just got back from your hometown, the first person to arrive back to your shared flat with Nat and Eden, so you had a few days on your own. You decided to redecorate your room so you took a trip to IKEA, taking your time looking through the set up rooms, just wandering around as you try to figure out what you really want to buy. Walking through the living room section you spotted the professor and first, you didn’t even recognize him.

He was wearing a pair of bright yellow shorts and a short sleeved shirt with floral prints on it, a pair of white framed sunglass on top of his head, keeping his unruly strands out of his face as he was eyeing a couch, seemingly deep in his thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, seeing him in such a casual and everyday setting. For some reason, he seemed like a completely different person.

A woman was there with him and as you walked closer you could hear a fraction of their discussion.

“I don’t know, Gems. Do I need a couch this big?”

“Looks comfy and I like the color. It would also fit in the space just right, I think you should get the bigger one if you have the space for it,” the woman put her two cents in and you wondered who she could be. Girlfriend? Just a casual friend? Maybe fiancé? She did have a ring that could easily go as an engagement ring so you couldn’t tell for sure.

As you were about to walk past you suddenly took the courage to say hi.

“Hello, Professor Styles!” you greeted him with a warm smile and his eyes flickered over to you from the couch in question. One thing you always admired about him is that he never forgot the faces of his students and as he looked at you, you knew he recognized you even if he didn’t know your name specifically.

“Oh, hello,” he nodded in your way.

“I like the couch,” you commented before slowly moving on. “Have a nice rest of your summer!”

“You too, Y/N,” he called after you and it took you by surprise that he remembered your name. Your lecture he taught had almost over a hundred students in it and you weren’t the most active one to stand out that easily, yet he still remembered you more than you were expecting.

That small encounter kept you thinking about him for way longer than you probably should have, especially because you knew you’d have a lecture with him again in the upcoming semester. Your daydreams about him made their way back into your mind as you spent the last days of your summer mostly with your friends. It got you thinking that if you managed to get him to remember your name, maybe you would give one of your plans a go and shoot your shot. He wouldn’t be teaching you in your last semester so you wouldn’t have to face him after he rejects you.

And this is how you came up with your little scheme.

On your last Sunday evening before school starts, you, Nat and Eden sit in the floor of your living room, drinking some white wine as a way of saying goodbye to the carefree summer moments and getting back to the working days of being a senior at uni. Professor Styles came up completely randomly and you let it slip that you’ve just seen him recently at IKEA with a woman and it all led to you admitting that you’ll finally shoot your shot at the professor. Nat and Eden both did the same already, however their attempts were completely ignored and they always bugged you to give it a try yourself, being the only one in your group who hasn’t tried to seduce the professor yet.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell me it’s stupid because I actually think it’ll be funny and a little bit genius,” you tell them before you start sharing the details on your plan.

“Just spill the beans already!” Eden pokes you before she reaches for the bottle and refills her glass.

“Okay, so you both know I took this psychology class last semester for extra credits, right?” The nod and you continue. “The teacher told us about this thing called classical conditioning or they call it pavlovian response too. The guy, Pavlov, did an experiment where he paired the feeding of dogs with a bell ring and after a certain amount of time the dogs started salivating at just the sound of the bell, because they remembered that it’s connected to food. The teacher said this is literally one of the easiest tricks to pull on people.”

“Oh, isn’t this one of the things Jim did on Dwight in The Office?” Nat asks furrowing her eyebrows.

“It is!” you nod, glad that they are understanding the base of your plan. “So, I’ve heard that Professor Styles loves strawberry flavored candies. I thought that I would bring some every day when I see him and offer him some. Slowly, he’ll pair the candy with the thought of me and he’ll get excited when he sees me because he’ll think I have candy for him and it will hopefully work the other way around and he’ll think of me when he is eating strawberry flavored candy that’s not from me.”

Your friends blink at you for a moment, processing what you just shared with them before Eden takes a huge sip of her drink.

“This is the most ridiculous but also the most genius thing I’ve ever heard,” she nods holding her glass up towards you.

“I can’t believe you will pull a psychological experiment on Professor Styles,” Nat shakes her head with a soft chuckle.

“It’s not a blunt way to get closer to him and if he accuses me of trying to flirt I can just say that I’ve been only sharing candy with him, I literally did nothing,” you point out, pretty proud of your solution to your deep fear of having to take his rejection publicly.

“If you get a Noble for this shit, make sure to thank us in your speech,” Eden laughs and you promise to do so when the big moment comes.

Monday morning you make a quick trip to Target and buy a big bag of strawberry flavored candies, probably enough to last for the whole semester, and then you make your way to campus. Following your first lecture you meet up with Eden who also signed up for Professor Styles’ lecture this semester, so the two of you make your way towards the lecture hall together.

“I really can’t believe you are doing this,” she chuckles when you get the candy ready as you near the room. The professor is always the first one in the lecture hall so you know you’ll find him there already.

“You can’t tell me it’s not a funny plan,” you smirk at her. And just as you walk in, you immediately spot the professor sitting at the desk at the front, going over the syllabus before the start. “Save a seat for me,” you tell Eden who just laughs and makes her way up the stairs along the desks.

Grabbing the pack of sweets from your bag you walk up to the professor, feeling confident with your plan. He lifts his head up when he notices your arrival and your eyes meet with his green ones.

“Hello, professor. Would you like some candy?” you simply ask with an innocent smile.

Professor Styles stares at you for a moment before his eyes move down to the candy in your hand, the opening of the bag facing him in a welcoming manner.

“I, uhh… what flavor?” he curiously asks and you can barely push down your smirk.

“Strawberry.”

“Oh. I’ll… take one, thank you,” he nods, hand reaching into the bag as he grabs just one single candy, unwrapping the package before he pops it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he nods again with a delightful smile.

“Of course. Did you buy the couch?” you ask, taking slow steps away from the desk as he keeps his eyes on you.

“I… did not. Bought another one,” he admits shortly and you know you’ve reached the limit. If you ask more, he’ll get suspicious, so you just nod smiling before walking up to the spot Eden has reserved for you. When you sit down, you catch the professor paying you one last glance before he returns to what he was previously doing.

“You are a genius, because now we can watch him suck on a fucking candy for the next few minutes,” Eden mumbles quietly, making you laugh.

“I knew this would be a good plan,” you sigh, satisfied with the work you’ve done. Now it’s just a matter of time.

Every Monday and Wednesday, you arrive with the same bag of candy to the lecture hall, walk up to Professor Styles and offer him one. And he always takes one. The first few times he seems hesitant when he spots you approaching him, but he slowly grows used to your tiny act of kindness that occurs every time you see him. On week three you expand the plan. You usually have lunch with Nat on Thursdays since you both have a break between one and two pm. The two of you try to take advantage of the warm early autumn days and sit under the pergola that’s near the building where Professor Styles’ office is as well. It’s mere coincidence, you only like that place because it’s close to the lecture hall you have to go to after lunch, but you notice that the professor emerges from Building C around one thirty, walking back to his office probably after one of his classes. The sidewalk runs directly next to the pergola so it gives you a chance to bring the candy out one more time every week. You nicely greet him when he is nearing the two of you and then hold out the bag, asking if he wants some. He always takes one and thanks you with a sweet smile that leaves you a tad bit blushed.

“I can’t fucking believe your plan is working,” Nat chuckles in disbelief on one occasion when the professor just disappeared in the building, probably happily unwrapping his candy of the day.

“It’s funny, innit?” you grin at her proudly.

Frankly, this is just a fun experiment for you. You don’t actually think that the professor will think of you differently even the slightest. You might be able to plant the thought of you in his head, but that doesn’t instantly mean that he’ll start fancying you and actually do something about it. It would be ridiculously naïve to think it’s going to be you who breaks through the wall that hundreds of women had already tried to knock down.

Week six is what brings the breakthrough. After long consideration and discussion with Nat and Eden, you decide to test if the experiment has been successful. You offer one last candy on Monday, but Wednesday brings the change. You go to lecture without candy. Well, you have it on you, but you decide not to ask him if he wants some.

Walking into the lecture hall, as always, he is already sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book when you walk up to him with the intention of asking him a question on the paper that’s due next week.

“Professor Styles?” you softly speak up, catching his attention. “Can I have a question about the paper?”

“Of course,” he nods and you can’t tell just yet if he was expecting the candy or not.

“I was wondering if I can use a diagram to visualize my results at the end. I have a brilliant idea to summarize the data with one.”

“Sure, just make sure to give credit wherever it’s due, if you are using someone else’s work for the diagram.”

“Definitely,” you smile at him and wait a moment. That’s where you see the anticipation in his eyes.

His gaze flickers down to your hands and then to your bag where you always carry the candy and when his eyes meet yours again, you see him swallow hard.

He was expecting the candy. Not only expecting, but he started salivating when he saw you, thinking that he would get the candy from you as always.

“Is… that all?” he asks, the slightest hint of hope appearing in his tone, probably waiting for you to pull the bag of candy out of your bag and offer him one. But it’s not happening today.

“Yes, thank you very much,” you nod smiling widely before you turn around and walk away, a shocked and triumphant look appearing on your face once he can’t see it anymore and when Eden sees you, she gasps.

“He fucking expected the candy, didn’t he?!” she whispers at you in shock and you nod frantically, still not believing your plan worked.

“You should have seen the anticipation in his eyes, he really thought I was gonna offer him some!”

“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Eden laughs covering her mouth as the lecture hall starts to fill up slowly.

Turning forward, you see that the professor is sitting behind his desk, the book that had his attention before your arrival is long forgotten in front of him, now he is staring ahead of him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, deep in his thoughts.

Is he thinking about you? Or why he was expecting candy from you?

You see him reach for his water bottle and he takes two big gulps probably to wash away his need for the candy before he narrows his eyes and at last they find you in the auditorium. You tilt your head to the side innocently smiling, as if you know absolutely nothing about anything. You keep eye-contact, forcing you not to be the one who breaks it and he is intimidating. You feel like he can read your mind as he stares at you and when he finally turns his gaze back at the book, you exhale sharply.

The lecture goes down just as usual and when the professor dismisses the class you decide to put the cherry to the top. Walking down between the desks you grab a candy from your bag and while the professor is talking to a girl who also had a question about the paper, you place the candy to his desk next to his book. He doesn’t see you walk out and you don’t see him when he finds it, but something is telling you he figured you out. No way a man as smart as him doesn’t realize what game you’ve been playing with him.

Sitting under the pergola on Thursday you are deep in discussion with Nat, helping her with a task sheet she has to turn in after lunch but she completely forgot about it. As the two of you are trying to do the seemingly endless sheet, you don’t even notice the professor walking from Building C, as always, but he spots you.

“No, I don’t think that’s even a thing, you can’t write that,” you tell Nat, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t care if it’s a thing, I just want to fill in the whole thing so the teacher doesn’t think I finished it in twenty minutes before class,” she mumbles, scribbling down her answer as you just chuckle at her.

Suddenly, you see a pair of dusty Vans appear in your sight and as your eyes move up, you are facing none other than Professor Styles, standing right in front of you, holding out his hand with his hand turned upwards, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips. His appearance takes you by surprise and for a moment you just dumbly stare down at his palm, then up at his eyes.

“Very smart. Pulling a pavlovian on me with my favorite candy,” he speaks up, dropping his hand as he cocks his head to the side. Nat looks up from her sheet with wide eyes as you stare at the professor with blushing cheeks.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, professor,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Of course. You know, it took me a moment to realize yesterday, but I wanted to let you know that… I think it was clever.”

“If I knew anything about what you’re talking about… I would say thank you. But I stand up for my innocence.”

“Surely,” he chuckles softy. “Have a great rest of your week,” he then nods before turning around to walk away, but you quickly reach into your bag and grab a candy.

“Professor Styles!” you call out and he turns back just in time to catch the candy you throw in his way. He glances at it in his palm before his eyes snap up to you again, smirking at you shortly before he disappears in the building.

“Okay, call me stupid, but I could feel the sexual tension between the two of you,” Nat says as soon as the professor is out of sight.

“Don’t be silly, it was just… a joke and he liked it.”

“He called you clever, Y/N!”

“No, he called my trick clever.”

“But you came up with it so you’re clever too. Say whatever you want, but I actually think you have a shot at him.”

“I definitely don’t,” you laugh shaking your head and you genuinely believe it. Nat scoffs before she gets back to her sheet, but not without having one last thought about the situation.

“We’ll be laughing at how you brainwashed him into liking you when you’ll be dating for years, living together and all that shit.”

You’ve made some very questionable choices in your dating life prior. Like when you dated a boy in high school and let him take your virginity at the back of his mom’s minivan just to break up with your right after that, or when you briefly dated the guy you met at the mall, but it later turned out he was gay and he used you as his cover up in front of his family. But the worst decision of all was dating an egoistic forty years old loser who just freshly got divorced and went after you at some tacky bar you were at with your friends.

The time you spent dating Victor is way less than the time he has been bothering you, trying to make you go back to him when you’ve actually told him you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. You broke up with him just before you went home for the summer and he didn’t take it well, even drove up to your hometown and showed up at your parents’ house drunk, begging for you to take him back. He never stood a chance, not after that one time he slapped you across the face during a fight the two of you had. You tolerate a lot of things but not violence and you don’t believe him when he says it was just a onetime thing. There’s no guarantee he won’t hit you ever again and you are definitely not waiting around to see if he told you the truth.

On this particular late October evening you are searching through your whole room looking for a book you know you have, but can’t seem to find anywhere. It’s your holy bible about research methodology and you need it for your thesis work, but it seems like the small apartment has completely swallowed it.

“Didn’t you leave it at Victor’s? You were working on that long essay when you were dating him, saw you use the book all the time,” Eden tells you when you ask her if she’s seen it anywhere and then it clicks.

She is right, now you remember leaving the book at his once and you completely forgot to pick it up after things got nasty between the two of you.

“Damn it,” you growl in annoyance.

Not feeling like calling him, you send him a quick text, hoping he still has it and hasn’t burned it after one of your fights.

Y/N: Hey, I think I left my research methodology book at yours. You still have it?

Victor: I do.

Y/N: Cool, can I drop by to pick it up?

Victor: I’m leaving for work, you can come to the bar if you want it.

You sigh in defeat. Victor is a bartender at a place that’s all the way across town, takes almost an entire hour to get there, but you are left with no other choice.

Y/N: Okay, I’ll see you there.

The raining has finally stopped this morning so you feel better leaving the house than you would have if it was still pouring. You take the bus and travel across town, feeling anxious to see Victor again. Last time you met him he cursed you out and threw his phone at you, barely missing your head. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go near him again after that, but it seems like you can never get completely rid of him.

Students rarely come to this part of the town, it’s way too far from campus and has nothing to offer that can’t be found closer to the dormitories or the school’s buildings. It’s not entirely your scene either, the bars around here are liked by older generations, not by people your age, this is another reason why you don’t like coming around here.

The bar where Victor works is a place where they have different local bands perform every Friday and Saturday. It’s not a tacky nook with creepy dudes, they actually have prices on the higher end, not something you can necessarily afford with your part time job’s paycheck from the small accounting office near your apartment where you work as an assistant on your free afternoons.

Walking into the place you immediately spot Victor behind the bar and you take a deep breath before you walk up to him.

“Hey,” you call out for him, taking one of the stools along the bar.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

“Happens when you break up with someone,” you respond with a little spice and he frowns at your words. “Can you give me the book?”

“I’ll have a break in ten, can you wait for that or you have something extra urgent shit to do, as always?” You can tell he is still bitter from how things ended between the two of you, but you’ve learned not to care about it. His way of dealing with the breakup is not your responsibility, no matter how hard he is trying to prove it wrong.

You roll your eyes but nod, knowing well there’s no use to fight him. Ten minutes is not the end of the world. Busying yourself on your phone, you try to stay unnoticed and luckily, Victor can’t keep chatting with you, because customers keep coming up to him and ordering drinks. When he finally has his break he tells you to follow him to the back.

“So how have you been?” he asks as you walk down the hallway that leads to the small break room, there’s an office at the end and some kind of changing room you guess for the bands, along with a storage.

“Fine.”

“You really gonna be a bitter bitch and not talk to me?” he asks you, giving you a disgusted look, but you know it’s just the anger talking from him.

“Victor, I didn’t come here to talk, I just need my book!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t answer my question.”

“I answered it! I’ve been fine, now give me the damn book!” you growl, losing your patience with him, but he is seemingly in the same shoes.

“When will you stop being a bitch and just drop this ridiculous act, Y/N? I’ve been after you for months yet you keep ignoring me!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m ignoring you because I don’t want anything to do with you? Victor, it’s been months, just… move the fuck on! Go cry to your ex-wife or something, I don’t care!”

You didn’t mean to snap, but he always brings the worst out of you. From the corner of your eyes you can see movement at the other end of the hallway where the changing room is, but you don’t get to pay much attention to it, because the next moment Victor grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! You ungrateful slut, I swear…”

There’s little you can do, he is twice as big as you are, his grip on your arm so strong there’s no doubt it will leave a mark. Your heart is racing as you try to pull yourself out of his hold, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at your attempt.

However, before he could drag you into the empty breakroom to do god knows what, he is stopped by a voice.

“Hey! Let her go!”

If you weren’t shocked enough at his violent reaction, now you are definitely think you’re going nuts, because it’s none other than Professor Styles who is now nearing you with a hard expression on his face, two other guys following right behind him and though none of them are bigger than Victor, he knows he can’t just start a fight with three men.

Your chest is heaving when the professor finally reaches you and Victor’s hold lets go of you, making you fall back a little.

“You perform here twice and think you’re some kind of rockstar?” Victor spats at the professor, but you’re a little lost in what’s really going on. Professor Styles gently grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, eyes never leaving Victor’s burning gaze.

“You alright?” one of the other two men asks and you nod, not finding your voice to actually speak.

“Get the hell out of my sight before I call the police on you,” the professor answers in a calm yet threatening voice

Victor takes a second to himself, thinking about the choices he has before he turns around and disappears in the breakroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you in complete shock about what just happened.

Professor Styles then turns around, his eyes soften at seeing how shaken you are and quite frankly, you feel like you are in a bad and quite weird dream.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, clearly worried about you and you just shake your head no.

“I-I’m fine, I think,” you mumble out of breath.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the guy who asked if you’re alright suggests and you nod in agreement, following them kind of blindly, the three of them keeping you in their little circle as you walk out to the bar and they don’t stop until you are out of the place in the cold night air. You slowly come back to reality and process that Professor Styles just saved you out of fucking nowhere from your abusive asshole ex. That’s what you call a plot twist.

You finally take a moment to look at the other two guys, they both look the same age as the professor, or maybe a little older, both of them are rocking some facial hair, the one that asked you seems a little more open while the other one quite reserved but friendly looking.

“What… What were you doing back there?” you ask, turning to face the professor. He clearly seems upset, but you’re not sure if it’s entirely because of what happened with Victor back then or because you are standing outside some random bar on a Saturday night, definitely crossing his personal boundaries he keeps so high at school.

“We played here tonight, was just about to leave when I saw you.”

“You have a band?” you ask, shocked at the detail.

“A pretty good one,” the talkative guy chuckles. “I’m Adam, nice to meet you. This is Mitch.”

You shake hands with them introducing yourself as well.

“Y/N is… my student,” the professor adds as if he is clearing the air for his bandmates, a kind of warning for them.

From the direction of the parking lot two women emerge, laughing on something as they walk up to the four of you, both of them eyeing you curiously.

“Hey boys, who is this pretty girl?”

“Sarah, Charlotte, this is Y/N, she is my student. Y/N, these are my other band mates, Sarah and Charlotte,” the professor introduces you as you shake hands with them quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends, professor,” you shyly apologize, feeling like a complete intruder all of a sudden with all his bandmates around you.

“Interrupt? Sweetheart, that dude was about to do some unforgivable things to you, don’t apologize for needing help,” Adam snorts. “You’re lucky we were there.”

“What? What happened?” Sarah asks in confusion.

“Just… my asshole ex got a little too violent when I didn’t want to chit-chat with him,” you admit with a defeated sigh.

“Oh shit, but are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile faintly, though you still can feel his grip on your upper arm. “I, um… I better get going, I guess. Thank you for… the saving,” you say, a little lost about what should be said in this situation.

“You’re leaving? We were just about to go to a much better place, why don’t you come with us, forget about your ex a little?” Charlotte offers and you catch the professor’s panicked look for a split second.

“I, um… I don’t think I should, but thank you.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Sarah questions.

“Because I know how Professor Styles hates to mingle with students outside of lectures and I don’t want to cross any lines,” you truthfully admit. The professor furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t hate mingling with students,” he states.

“Well, you are surely not the most reachable professor on campus,” you chuckle lightly. “But it’s fine, I understand it. So I’ll just head home.”

“Come on, Harry. Let her tag along for just one drink!” Sarah begs and seemingly everyone would be happy to have you join for a little. The professor’s eyes meet yours, as if he is contemplating whether he should say yes or let you go home. When he finally speaks up you’re more surprised than when you realized it was him saving you from Victor.

“I guess you could use a drink after what happened in there,” he says, the tiniest smirk showing on his lips as your eyes shoot up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on,” he nods and your little group heads down the street.

Turns out the place they were heading to was just two corners down, so they left all their stuff at the minivan at the parking lot for the time being. You slide into an empty booth, Adam and Mitch go to get the first round, so it’s just the three of you girls and the professor.

“So you’re in one of Harry’s lectures?” Charlotte asks with a warm smile.

“Yeah, for the second time, actually. Had him in first year, now it’s my fifth semester and I had no doubt I have to take his class if I have the chance.” You pay a glance at him, but he is staring at his hands on his lap, you can’t tell if it’s because he is uncomfortable with you there or if it’s something else.

“It’s so funny, because we’ve heard that he is known to be a good teacher but we never actually heard it from one of his students,” Sarah chuckles. “What’s he like?”

“Sarah, you enjoy talking about me when I’m very much present?” he scoffs, giving her a look, but she just shrugs innocently.

“Come on, I bet even you’re curious about what your students think of you. Now is your time to find it out!”

“I think Professor Styles knows very well that he is one of the best, if not the actual best,” you truthfully say and see him raise his eyebrows a little.

“What makes him so good?” Charlotte questions.

You glance at him again, as a way of asking for permission if you can answer. You definitely don’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about him when he is right next to you. He looks into your eyes, and his expression tells you that he wants to hear your answer as well, but he quickly adds:

“You don’t have to answer, Y/N.”

“It’s not a secret,” you admit it with a smile. “Professor Styles’ lectures always leave you with a question to think about until next week, he is great at getting into your head without you even noticing. He explains the most complicated things in so simple ways, it should be taught,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I think his enormous knowledge about many different fields in science and just life in general is amusing, anyone can learn something from him, it’s guaranteed.”

“Wow, where is this academic genius side of yours when you’re around us, or we only get to see the dad joke version of you?” Sarah teases him and you can’t push down a laugh, imagining him cracking dad jokes feels so alien but still kind of fitting for him.

“That’s what you get when you’re a nosy little thing,” he retorts with a small smirk. He then turns to you, and as Sarah and Charlotte are laughing on something, he lowly tells you: “You can call me Harry outside of school. Feels weird that you call me professor when my friends are around.”

“You sure?”

He nods and you spot a small smile on his lips. He must be getting used to the feel of you being there, but you still don’t want to push his limits too much.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course.”

“If your ex is this aggressive, why were you there with him?”

His question is surprising, you didn’t think he would ask you something personal, but you guess it’s a valid question after he just saved you from Victor.

“I wanted to get a book back that I left at his place. Didn’t even get to the point where he could have given it back,” you mumble under your breath.

“What book?”

“Just this… research methodology book, wanted it back for my thesis work, but I guess I’ll have to buy a new one,” you huff bitterly.

“Is it the one written by William Scott?”

“Y-Yeah, it is. You know it?” you ask, but then realize it’s a bit of a dumb question. He probably knows every academically important book you will ever come across.

“I actually have it myself,” he nods. Just then, Mitch and Adam return with the drinks and you thank them for the beer, already reaching for your money to pay, but Adam shakes his head.

“It’s on me, don’t worry.”

You watch as Mitch sits beside Sarah, curling an arm around her shoulders and though you couldn’t have guessed that they are a couple, seeing them like this it actually makes sense, they look cute together.

You take a sip from your beer, trying to join the conversation Sarah and Charlotte are having, when your attention is pulled back by Harry.

“I can… lend you the book, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll just get a new one.”

“No, really. I think I even have two copies, I can give one to you.”

“I couldn’t ask you that, prof—I mean Harry.”

“You’re not asking,” he smiles at you softly. “I probably won’t need both, so why not put the extra into use?”

“Okay, but I’ll pay for it,” you insist, but Harry shakes his head.

“No need, one of them was a gift so I didn’t pay for it either.”

“Well… if you’re sure about it, I would love to have that extra copy, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So Y/N, what do you study exactly?” Adam questions, pulling you out of your little discussion with Harry.

“I’m majoring in anthropology, but I’ve been taking some psychology classes on the side just because I’m interested in the topics.”

“And what is Harry teaching you?”

“Had him for intro Sociology lecture first year, now I’m in his Methodology of Cultural Anthropology class.”

“All these subjects with their GY endings, I don’t know how you two put up with science on this level,” Sarah huffs in amusement.

“The names sometimes sound fancier than the subject itself,” you tell her smiling.

“But I bet you need to be quite smart to study these stuff on this level you are at.”

“Oh, it’s just a bachelorette degree, I wouldn’t say I’m that smart,” you chuckle shyly.

“She is totally toning it down,” Harry speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. “I know students tend to take my into Sociology class for just some extra credits so I always give them two options for the semester. They can either write a two pages long review of any article related to the topics talked about at lecture and get their strong C with the bare minimum, or actually participate and do a research of their own and turn in an at least seven pages long essay about their chosen topic. Y/N turned in an eleven pages long paper on the history of death sentences in the U.S. in the last fifty years and how society is thinking about it nowadays. It was easily one of the best works I’ve ever read and it was just an intro class.”

“You remember my essay?” you ask in complete shock.

“Of course. As I said, one of the bests I’ve read,” he nods confidently.

“So you’re like… on Harry’s smart level, actually?” Sarah asks, tilting her head to the side and you can feel yourself blushing.

You’ve always been said to be the smart kid at school, but you never thought it to be true yourself. In your book, you were just doing your absolute best, soaking in whatever knowledge was thrown in your way. You never actually understood how someone could just not study for an exam or not do an assignment, because you always felt like it was your duty to do the best you can. You thought yourself to be more of a hard-working student rather than a smart one.

“She is definitely a bright one,” Harry agrees, his eyes meeting yours as a small smile appears on his lips and you think that this is the biggest compliment you’ve ever gotten. “She actually tricked me with a psychological experiment and I didn’t even realize it,” he laughs and you can’t hold your smirk back.

“What? What did you do?” Charlotte asks, dying to know how you played Harry.

“Have you heard of the Pavlovian response?” you ask looking around and you can tell it rings a bell for all of them.

“The one with the dogs and the bell?” Mitch asks and you nod.

“Wait you did that on Harry?” Adam laughs with wide eyes and you just nod with a sly smile.

“I just offered him strawberry flavored candies every time I saw him. Took me six weeks to build up the response but he actually started expecting it whenever he saw me,” you tell them chuckling to yourself.

“And I only realized it when she stopped with the candy and I felt this massive feeling that something was missing,” Harry adds shaking his head with a soft laugh.

“Okay, that’s hilarious,” Sarah snorts clapping her hands together. “Y/N, I adore you, you’re brilliant!”

“It was just… an experiment,” you shrug shyly.

The night carries much faster than you realize. One drink turns into three and before you could realize, it’s already past midnight. Eden texts you, asking where you are since you said you’d just get the book and go home right away, but it’s been hours.

Y/N: Don’t freak out, but I’m at a bar with Prof. Styles and his friends. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!

Eden: HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT AFTER READING THIS???!?!

Y/N: Lol, chill. Nothing extra is happening.

Eden: It’s already extra that you’re out with him.

Realizing how late it is, you decide you better get going, since it’s a long way back home. When you tell the little group that you’re about to head out, they all agree that it’s time to part ways and leave, so you all slowly make your way back to the parking lot.

“Do you know where the bus stop is back?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, trying to spot where you should be heading.

“You want to go home by bus at this time?” Harry asks.

“Well, I surely won’t pay for a ride, I live almost an hour away from here.”

“An hour?” he frowns. “I’ll take you home, come on,” he tells you, heading towards the minivan.

“What? No need. The bus is fine,” you protest, but he shakes his head.

“You are not taking the bus at this hour, not under my watch,” he simply states and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Didn’t realize I was under your watch,” you tease him and it seems like your comment caught him off-guard. “Don’t piss your pants, I was just joking,” you tell him, and thought for a second you feel like you are being way too comfortable around him, his smile quickly smashes your doubts.

Sarah, Mitch and Charlotte all take an Uber since they live near each other and Adam is picked up by his wife, so when everyone is off to their own way, you and Harry get in the van and head to your place.

“How long have you had the band?” you ask, in need to break the silence that’s been weighing down on the two of you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” you add quickly when you see him.

“About four years. Used to have another one, but we parted ways.”

“And what do you do in the band?”

“I, uhh… Well I mostly sing but I also play the guitar.”

“You know, I’m not that surprised you can sing,” you chuckle to yourself sinking further down in your seat.

“How come?”

“You have a voice that’s great to listen to at lectures, makes sense that you can sing as well.”

You take a moment to look at his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel, he is the kind that drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one on the shifting gear. He makes it look so easy as he steers the wheel whenever he is turning a corner while his other one easily moves around the shifting gear, his tattoos are peeking from under his rolled up shirt sleeve. He catches you staring and you feel a blush burning on your cheeks as you turn your head to the other side. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that third beer…

“Am I really seen that rigid by the students?” he speaks up after a while and you turn back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“You said I’m known about not mingling with students.”

“Well, you don’t mingle, do you? But it doesn’t mean you come off as rigid. More like… closed-off. Private.”

“I know I should be a little friendlier, but I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I think everyone gets it why you’re like that.”

“Do they?” he arches an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re obviously a ladies’ favorite, but it doesn’t sit well with you being a person of some sort of power. It’s clear that you don’t want anyone to get the wrong picture about you. I’ve seen how bluntly girls are flirting with you, some of them are quite scandalous if you ask me,” you huff to yourself. “I totally get it that you don’t want even just a rumor to spread about you.”

“Didn’t think I was that obvious,” he admits, running his tongue over his lips.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re still a highly fancied professor, in all means,” you tell him with a warm smile.

“Does this mean you also fancy me?” he suddenly questions and your lips part at his words. He quickly realizes how ambiguous he just sounded. “I mean, am I one of your favorites? Where do I stand in your chart of professors?”

You can’t tell for sure because of the lack of lighting, but you could have sworn there’s a light blush on his cheeks as he corrects himself. Because of this, you don’t know for sure if he really meant it academically. Either way, the answer is the same.

“You’re my favorite,” you confidently state and your eyes meet for a moment before he turns back to face the road.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, you keep giving him directions to your place until you finally arrive a little before one am.

“Well, thank you for the ride,” you smile at him, grabbing the door handle.

“See you on Monday,” he nods shortly and watches as you get out of the can.

“Yeah, see you, professor,” you smirk before shutting the door and walking up the stairs and disappearing in your building.

“Was that Professor Styles in the fucking minivan?!” Nat throws the question at you the moment you open the front door.

“Jesus, why are you still up?” you sigh, shutting the door and shimmying yourself out of your coat.

“Because we were waiting for you!” Eden rolls her eyes. “So, care to tell us what the fuck just happened?” The three of you get comfortable on the couch and you give them a quick rundown of your evening from meeting Victor through being saved by Harry right to him offering to drive you home and they listen to you with wide eyes in complete shock that you just spent your entire evening with the most handsome professor on campus who also happens to be the most private as well.

“If I didn’t see him sitting in that van with my own eyes I would straight up think you’re lying, but I saw his tattooed hand over the windshield,” Nat gasps, processing the story.

“I know, I still feel like it didn’t happen, but it did.”

“And what is he like around his friends? What are his friends like?” Eden questions, hugging her knees to her chest.

“He is pretty much just like in lecture, just jokes a little more and he has a looser vocab. His friends are hilarious, I really got along with Sarah.”

“I know you still think it won’t happen, but I actually think you have a shot at him, Y/N,” Eden points it out and you just chuckle.

“Why, because he saved me from my douche ex?”

“No, because he let you stay for the night with him and his friends. This is literally the first ever time a student hung out with him.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry is a reserved and private person—“

“Harry?!” they gasp at the same time.

“You are now just casually calling him Harry?” Nat asks with ogling eyes.

“Well, yes, he asked me to, because it felt weird that I was calling him Professor Styles with his friends around.”

“Okay, I’m giving it… let’s say, he seems to be moving pretty slow, but y’all will be fucking in about six months,” Nat bluntly tells you and it makes you laugh.

“Oh, sure, whatever. I’m gonna shower and head to bed, you two don’t get too crazy with your fairytales,” you wave at them before disappearing in the bathroom.

The rest of the weekend goes by uneventfully, outside of the pathetic attempt from Victor to get you to talk to him, but you’ve had enough of him for a life so you finally block his number and hope you won’t ever see him again.

Both you and Eden oversleep on Monday morning, skipping your early morning lecture and already being late for Harry’s class as well, so you barely make it to Harry’s class in time, just sprinting up the rows, flopping down to your usual seats when Harry starts the lecture. It all goes as usual as if nothing really happened during the weekend, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Glancing over at his desk you spot the book he promised you and you can’t hold your smile back. Still grinning, your eyes accidentally meet with his gaze and he stops for a heartbeat as if he is questioning why you are so smiley, but you just shake your head and he carries on before anyone could suspect a thing.

“I gotta run, my favorite TA is having his office hours now and I have a few questions for him. See you at home?” Eden asks once the lecture is over and you are getting ready to leave.

“Sure, have a good day!” you call after her and she sings a ‘you too!’ before running out of the room.

You pack up and head down between the rows, Harry spotting you right away and you go up to him without him even asking you to.

“Hey, sorry we were a little late to class this morning,” you tell him and he just shakes his head kindly.

“No worries. How… is your arm?” He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze wandering down to your forearm where Victor grabbed you on Saturday.

“Oh, it’s fine. I just have a little bruise,” you shrug, because it really isn’t that big deal, but you can tell Harry is still outraged by what happened.

“M’sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Would be worse if you weren’t there,” you smile at him kindly and he nods to himself before turning to his desk.

“I, uhh, I brought the book we talked about,” he shyly says grabbing it from the desk. As people are exiting the room you can feel the glares on yourself, most of them are probably trying to figure out why Harry is talking to you for so long, but you don’t pay much attention to them as you take the book he hands you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”

“No need, keep it, it’s yours,” he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Thank you then.” You slide the book into your bag before looking back up at him. “Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday, professor,” you smile warmly before heading out.

“See you!” he calls after you before you close the door behind you.

The week carries on as usual, you are working on papers that needs to be turned in before the fall break so you spend some extra time at the library, using every bit of free time you have so you finish everything on time.

Things go back to kind of normal with Harry, he greets you in the mornings when you walk into the lecture hall and other than the warm smile he occasionally gives you, nothing has changed.

Friday however brings a surprise, but not from Harry. You’re sitting at work in the afternoon, typing away on your computer, filling in some sheets when you get a notification on your phone from Instagram.

Sarah Jones is now following you!

You tap on her profile but see that it’s private so without a second thought you request following. Luckily, she approves you only a few seconds later and you gain access to her posts, quite a few of them featuring Harry on them.

Photos of birthdays, weekend getaways, band practices and performances, Harry makes a lot of appearances on her feed and you find yourself scrolling all the way down until you reach the first few posts from 2016. Just as you are about to leave her profile you get a message from her.

Sarah: Hey Y/N! Charlotte and I’ve been talking about you recently, loved having you with us last Saturday! Want to grab a drink with the two of us this weekend?

Y/N: Would love to, but I’m not sure Harry would like the idea…

Sarah: He won’t be there and besides, who is he to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with?

She is right. You enjoyed spending time with them as well and Harry has little to no word in if you want to meet up with his friends or not. This invitation has no connection to him being your professor.

Y/N: Alright, I’m down!

 This is how your friendship with Sarah and Charlotte starts. You meet up with them on Saturday and have an amazing time, they are definitely fun people to spend time with and though at first you feel hesitant to get closer to them, you soon forget about your doubts and just enjoy your time with them.

Your little girls night goes so well that they invite you out for dinner on Wednesday with Mitch joining the little trio. You learn that he is a quiet but hilarious guy, he and Sarah make a great couple, you think.

“We have a gig this Saturday at Green Light, want to come?” Charlotte asks at the end of the dinner.

“Okay, I really don’t think Harry would be a fan of that idea,” you point out, feeling like it’s surely over the lines. He still doesn’t know about you meeting some of his friends without him and you’re not sure how he would react if he did.

“Harry can fuck off, not everything is about him. We are inviting you as our friends, he just happens to be in the band as well,” Sarah rolls her eyes, clearly not as bothered by the situation as you are.

“I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“He is a big boy, he’ll get himself over it, don’t worry. So, are you coming?”

“I guess, alright,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

 Next week you contemplate telling Harry that Sarah invited you out for their gig, but at last you decide against it, something is telling you he would try to talk you down and now you’re pretty hyped to see them perform. So you keep quiet and just brace yourself for the worst when Saturday comes.

You don’t overdress for the occasion, decide to wear some light washed mom jeans and a simple sweater tucked into it, a casual look for a night out.

Even when you’re on your way to the place you are having second guesses whether it’s a good idea or not, but you tell yourself it’s not that big of a deal and if Harry flips, you’ll just tell him you came for Sarah and Charlotte.

As you get off the bus and walk towards the place, you immediately spot the little group of three next to Harry’s minivan, Sarah waving in your way as you become visible in the streetlights.

“There she is!” she beams happily and you just chuckle at her.

Harry is standing with his back facing your way but seeing Sarah’s reaction he turns around and you swear for a moment you think he is about to faint when he spots you.

“Hey everyone,” you smile as Sarah pulls you into a hug and Charlotte does the same.

“Hey, if it isn’t our little trouble seeker!” Adam teases you and you just roll your eyes at him before shyly glancing at Harry who is standing on your left, awfully quiet and deep in his thoughts since your arrival. He feels your eyes on him and his gaze meets yours and just by one look you can tell he is pissed.

Just as you thought.

The group chats a little longer outside before Adam suggests they head inside and get ready for their start and you are just about to follow them, but Harry keeps you back.

“Y/N, can we have a word?”

Staying back you nod, hiding your hands in your coat’s pockets as you look at him, lips curled into your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together and he looks so damn intimidating, the neon lights from the front of the building tinting part of his face green, but you think red would suit him better with this look.

“I… came to see the band playing, what do you mean?”

“Is this your sneaky way of trying to come after me? Because I thought we had a very clear discussion about my thoughts regarding situations like this and you seemed to understand it.”

He comes off way angrier than you think he should be. Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him to see you here, but the tone he just hit is way too harsh for your liking and professor or not, you are not letting anyone talk to you like that when it’s completely not relevant.

“Okay, calm down. First of all, I was invited here.”

“By who?” he spats.

“Sarah and Charlotte, we met last weekend and had dinner this week as well. Had a great time and they asked me to come tonight as well, so get off of your high horse, I’m not here for you.” You can see the change on his face as the information sinks in and he realizes he accused you wrongly, but you’re not quite done with him. “But if I was here to see you, why does that bother you so much? You can’t avoid meeting students every minute when you’re off-campus. If I came here because of you, it shouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t worried about something else than me just being here,” you point out and he furrows his eyebrows at you. “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re afraid to be around me because you actually like me, huh!” you tell him with an innocent yet suggesting look. His eyes widen and the confidence in himself quickly vanishes from him, replaced by anxiety and nervous looks as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“I-I, that’s not—I’m not—“

“Take a breath before you pass out, Harry,” you sigh, dropping the hard act. “I didn’t come here for you and if you want to know I actually thought a lot about canceling because of you. But I genuinely like spending time with Sarah and Charlotte so I’m here as their friend.”

Harry stares back at you, completely defeated, regret filling his green eyes. You feel a little guilty for snapping so hard at him, after all you do understand his point of view, but you genuinely don’t think it’s as big of a deal as he makes it to be.

“I-I’m…”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just… move past it, alright?” you suggest and he nods as the two of you head inside, joining the rest of the group.

You stay behind while they are waiting for their time to perform, keeping some distance from Harry so he can’t accuse you again, but you occasionally look his way, catching him already looking at you, but you just can’t tell what could be possibly going on in his head. When it’s time for them to go on stage, you go out to the actual bar area and sit by the counter, not too much at the front but close enough to see everything that happens on the stage.

When they start playing you can’t take your eyes off Harry. His energy behind the microphone just knocks you off the stool and you watch him completely mesmerized as if he has put a spell on you. It feels like he turns into an entirely different person on stage, nothing like the man you see at lectures every Monday and Wednesday. He sings perfectly on key, putting some extra charm into the songs with his little additional tunes whenever he is not singing a line.

But what makes it absolutely impossible to look away from him is because he keeps staring at you, eyes locking with yours for way too long every time he catches your gaze. You try to ignore it, but it’s quite hard when his eyes are basically burning into you, it leaves you breathless.

Once the concert is over you order yourself two tequila shots quickly, because something is telling you that you’ll need the boosting if you want to face Harry after his little performance.

But for your surprise, when you join the band again and get near him, nothing really happens. It seems like Harry has come to peace with your presence in his little group of friends and he actually treats you like you’re part of the circle.

The six of you occupy a table at the back of the bar to spend there the rest of the evening and it’s all good, it seems. A harmless night out with a bunch of friends, nothing extra. Harry actually strikes up conversations with you involved and you feel like you’ve overcome a banter finally.

“Do you need a ride home?” Harry asks at the end of the night when everyone is about to head home.

“Only if it’s fine by you.”

“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t,” he smiles shortly before the two of you say goodbye to the rest of the group and head to his van that was previously loaded with their stuff.

The ride back to your place is now much shorter, it takes less than ten minutes to arrive and you are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up.

“I want to apologize for the way I reacted to your arrival earlier tonight. It was… unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry for what I said after that too.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he shakes his head, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t be sorry for saying something that’s true.”

It feels like all air is knocked out of you as his words process and you stare at him with parted lips and raised eyebrows. When he finally looks up at you, he looks so lost and tortured, you feel the urge to hug him, but you stay still as he continues talking.

“I got mad because I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very… confusing for me. And this is why I’m gonna be very straightforward with you now. I can tell Sarah and Charlotte like you a lot and they are stubborn, they won’t see the situation from my point of view and I’m no one to tell you if you can hang out with us or not. But what I can most certainly tell you is that nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N. You are very much welcomed to spend more time with us, but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

For a couple of moments you’re only able to stare back at him, blinking completely frozen at his sudden confession. You could tell tonight has been a turning point of some kind, but you were not expecting this speech from him at all and now you are at a complete loss of words. It takes some time before you actually find your voice.

“Okay,” is all you can breathe out, nothing more, but it’s pretty much all you have to tell him. You won’t go against his will and force him to do something he doesn’t want. He deserves the respect.

He nods shortly, seemingly still very torn about the situation and you figure it’s better if you just leave now.

“Thank you for the ride,” you quietly tell him opening the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N,” you hear him before you shut the door and walk into your building, feeling like you’ve been just hit by a pile of bricks.

Unlike the last time when Harry brought you home, Nat and Eden are not waiting for you in the living room. Nat is probably already asleep and Eden went out for a date earlier and she hasn’t been back. You don’t bother to turn the lights on as you walk inside, just kick your boots off and hang your coat before collapsing onto the couch, just staring into the darkness, Harry’s words repeating in your head again and again.

“… I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very confusing for me.”

“… nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N.”

“… but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

Harry, your professor, The Harry Styles admitted that he likes you but also told you pretty forward that nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. It still feels like a fever dream and you’re not sure how you are feeling about it just yet. Hanging out with him was already quite overwhelming, but you were not expecting this confession from him at all.

What are you supposed to do with this information? If he is so set on not taking any further steps, why did he even share it with you? He could have just easily keep his thoughts and feelings to himself and get away with it without you ever figuring it out. It doesn’t make sense.

For the first time in your life, something Harry Styles said doesn’t make sense. That’s new.

Following Harry’s confession you truly have no idea what to do, so you just go with the flow. He seemingly stays the same when it comes to you, friendly, but still keeping his distance. Nothing changes in the lecture hall, he just occasionally asks if you’re alright and you are guessing he only wants to know if you are having any trouble with Victor, but you haven’t even heard from him since you’ve blocked his number and you hope it’s going to stay like that.

You meet up with him and the band a few times outside of school and it’s not necessarily awkward, but you can tell he is keeping his distance from you, he never sits next to you or has one-on-one conversations with you, only if it’s necessary. The only time he dares to be alone with you is when he sometimes offers you to drive you home. You usually say no at first, but he insists, so you end up sitting in silence in the car until you arrive home, say goodbye and end of story.

No one in school even suspects that you’ve made your way into Harry’s group of friends, only Nat and Eden knows about it but they swore to keep it a secret, but you didn’t tell them about Harry’s confession. Whatever it is that’s happening between you and Harry, you would never put him into a situation he is trying to avoid so badly. You sit in his classes like everyone else, but while all the other girls are drooling over him, trying to get just slightly closer to him in any way possible, you sit in silence and think about the precious times when you get to see him outside of school.

Even with him being so distant towards you, you can’t help but slowly start falling for him. He doesn’t have to talk to you or be direct to you, it’s enough that you see him as himself, you see him with his friends, how he acts whenever he is not teaching, standing on the podium. And he is an amazing person, there’s no doubt about that.

The semester is gradually moving forward, once you get back from fall break, you basically move into the library, studying for your exams and finishing up all your papers. December arrives pretty fast and before you realize, the whole town is decorated with lights and Christmas trees everywhere, the shops are trying to lure customers in with all the sales and the Christmas shopping officially starts.

One weekend, when there’s only two weeks left of school before everyone heads home for the holidays, you and Nat go for a shopping trip, trying to buy every gift in time so you don’t have to worry about that at least last minute.

Wandering around the mall you naturally take a trip to the bookstore, always ready to buy something new to read. Nat dives into the cooking books wanting to get one for her mother while you’re just aimlessly looking through the shelves. As your eyes are running through the titles in the psychology department, you stop at one particular book, pulling it off the shelf as you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The secrets of Classical Conditioning.

You flip through the pages and though it doesn’t seem to be a groundbreaking work, it’s just explaining Pavlov’s experiment and further uses of it, you still decide to buy it.

That evening you sit at your desk, the book open in front of you, a pen next to it as you try to think of something to write into it. At first you just wanted to give it to Harry as it is, but you figured it would be a nice gesture to write a few words into it he could always read when he opens the book. After some consideration, you finally grab the pen and start writing.

-

Dear Harry,

I will always think of you whenever I hear of Mr. Ivan Petrovics Pavlov or Classical Conditioning. Thank you for another amazing semester and I’m happy I got to see you without standing on a podium. You are an amazing man, never change.

Happy holidays,

Y/N

-

Last week of school, you go to the Wednesday lecture, the last one of the semester with the book sitting in your bag. All through the 90 minutes class as Harry is having an open discussion about the lecture with the students, you keep debating whether you should give him the book or not. When the lecture is over and Harry wishes everyone happy holidays, you grab it from your bag and holding it to your chest you wait until there’s only a few people in the room. Eden has already left to hand in a paper so you walk down the rows on your own, eyes on the man behind his desk who is now packing up his papers and notes, getting ready to leave.

“Harry?” you faintly speak his name, grabbing his attention as he looks up at you from behind the desk. You glance down at the book in your hands and before you could change your mind, you place it down in front of him. “This is… for you.”

His gaze wanders down to the book, then back at you as he stares at you in awe, obviously surprised by the gesture.

“What’s this for?”

“Christmas gift?” you answer unsurely with a nervous chuckle. “I just saw it at the store and… thought of you.”

“Y/N, I can’t—“

“Yes you can and you will,” you roll your eyes at him, tired of hearing all these negations from him. He can’t, he won’t, he shouldn’t… for once, he definitely will if it’s on you. “Take it as my payment for the book you gave me.”

His eyes soften at you before he looks down at the book again, reading the title before he chuckles to himself.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he then finally says, accepting that you won’t let him return the gift under any circumstances.

“Have a nice Christmas, Harry,” you smile at him shyly, hands holding onto the strap of your bag as you start walking away.

“You too,” he faintly says and turning around you start walking, but then he stops you. “Y/N, wait!”

You stop in your track and face him curiously. He seems hesitant, stepping away from the desk, walking closer to you but still keeping some distance between the two of you.

“Do you… have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“I, uhh—No, not yet.”

“If you happen to be back in town by then… Sarah is having this little get together. I have a feeling she already invited you, but if you said no because of me, I want you to know that it’s fine by me. Would be nice if you could come.”

He is right, Sarah did invite you over, but you kindly declined thinking Harry wouldn’t appreciate if you spent it with them. You wanted to give him a breather, have a night with his friends without having to avoid you all the time, but it seems like the situation has changed for him.

“You don’t have to invite me just because I gave you a gift, Harry.”

“It’s not about that,” he shakes his head softly. “I can tell you are getting along well with Sarah and all the others. I want you to know that I would never stand in the way and you are very much welcomed at any and all events.”

He seems and sounds genuine, you don’t see any sign of him just saying it because Sarah asked him to or something. No, this definitely came from him.

“Okay, I’ll… think about it,” you tell him with a warm smile. “See you around,” you wave at him before walking out of the room.

You don’t get to see his reaction to the words you wrote into the book and for a while, you’re not even sure he saw it. Maybe he took it home and put it on his shelf without even having a look into it, but two days later, when you’re already packing, getting ready to go home for Christmas, you get a notification that at first confuses you.

Breakfast is now following you!

You open Instagram with furrowed eyebrows as you go to the profile that just followed you. It’s a small account and private, of course and you almost close it thinking it’s just someone random when you see that it’s followed by both Sarah and Charlotte.

Could this be Harry’s profile?

The username is colazione8, it doesn’t give away much but now that you are thinking about it, it’s perfect if he wanted to stay unnoticed by his students that surely can use Instagram way better than him.

You tap on the follow request button and anxiously wait for an approval, hoping that the person behind the account is still online. You wait and wait, slowly losing hope but then the notification finally arrives. Your request has been approved.

You tap on the profile vigorously and three pictures appear in front of you. One is a picture of some random building, the first ever posted is a plate of nicely served breakfast of some sort and then there’s one that features the person you were desperately hoping to see.

It’s a picture of Harry sitting at a big dining table, a glass of wine in front of him as he is squinting his eyes towards the camera. You zoom into the picture just to make sure it’s him, but his features are clearer than daylight, it really is Harry that just followed you.

You’re still stalking his very private and not too eventful profile when you get a message from him, making your heart skip a beat.

Harry: Hey! Just wanted to thank you again for the gift, it’s really thoughtful. Read what you wrote in it… thank you, Y/N.

Y/N: I meant every word. Thank you for everything you did this semester!

It takes a few minutes for a response to arrive from him.

Harry: Are you already on your way home?

Y/N: Not yet, leaving tomorrow morning.

Harry: If I drop by your place in 20, can you come down for a sec?

Y/N: Sure!

Though your response seemed totally cool, you started panicking right away. What does this mean? Why is he coming here? Are you in trouble? You couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.

You quickly change out of your worn-out sweats and stained shirt, putting on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie, not wanting to see him looking like a total wreck. You sit on your bed, anxiously checking your phone every ten seconds to see if he has messaged you and those twenty minutes never seem to pass.

Then your phone finally chimes again.

Harry: I’m here.

Y/N: Be there in a sec.

You jump into a pair of trainers and grabbing your keys from the little sidetable you have in the hallway you storm out of the apartment, running down the stairs. As you walk out you stop in your track for a second, for some reason you were expecting the minivan, but this time, it’s a black Range Rover that’s parked in front of your building and Harry emerges from it the moment you step outside.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, shutting the door before he jogs around and you notice the little gift bag in his hands.

“Harry, is this what I think it is? Because you shouldn’t have, really,” you tell him right away as he stands in front of you, glancing down at the little bag in his hands.

“What? So you are allowed to give me a gift, but I’m not allowed to do the same?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“But you already gave me one!”

“That wasn’t a real gift, so no,” he shakes his head, too stubborn to let it go. So instead, he nervously glances down at the little bag before handing it to you. “Here. Happy Christmas. But you can only open it when I’m gone, alright?”

“Why?”

“Just… please,” he breathes out and you not, keeping your curious hands to yourself.

“Alright. Well, thank you, Harry.”

“Sure. Um, have a great winter break and… I’ll see you around,” he smiles, walking around the car back to the side of the driving seat.

“You too, Harry. See you!”

You see him drive away as you walk back into the building, basically running up the stairs to your apartment, dying to see what’s in the little bag. Once you are locked in the safe haven of your room, you throw yourself to the bed and reach into the bag, finding a small box. One that’s usually used for jewelry. You pull it out with shaky fingers and take a deep breath before opening it.

Inside sits the cutest little silver ring you’ve literally ever seen. It’s thin and very detailed, tiny little strawberries lining next to each other and that’s the whole ring. Just the little strawberries, but it’s still the cutest you’ve ever seen. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your ring finger, holding up your hand you take a good look at how it sits on your finger. You’re in love with it.

Rolling to your back on the bed you stare up at the ceiling with a heavy heart aching for a man you know will never be yours, but you just can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants, right?

Reaching for your phone you type him a quick message

Y/N: Harry, thank you so much! It’s beautiful! But you shouldn’t have bought me anything!

Harry: I’m glad you like it :)

Y/N: I love it.

He doesn’t respond, just likes your message.

Christmas is always the same, especially because your family just never had those juicy dramas that could ruin any family events. Holidays have always been quiet and loving, pretty predictable. It’s good to be home again and spend quality time with your loved one, though your mind keeps wandering to a particular someone.

Sarah mentioned that Harry has traveled home to his mom and sister and from time to time you catch yourself thinking about what he could be possibly doing at the moment.

The only interaction between the two of you is when you post a photo with your sister and brother at Christmas dinner and he likes the photo, but nothing more. He doesn’t post or add to his story so you are left with your own elaborate fantasies of what he could possiblybe doing at home.

Sarah convinces you to spend the New Year’s Eve at hers and you are accepting the invitation a lot easier now that Harry has told you he is fine with you joining.

Just one day before the 31st you get back to your apartment and spend the second to last night of the year spiraling about the whole situation with Harry. Where are you two standing as of right now? Was his gift a gesture with a deeper meaning behind it?

You can’t step over the fact that you are not his student anymore. He has officially graded you and you’ve received your credits for his class, the ties are off, but he situation might still be risky and you doubt Harry is willing to change his mind about what he told you earlier. He made it clear that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, however you can’t help but feel a little hopeful that the new semester might bring a change into that.

After two hours spent in front of your closet and at least three mental breakdowns you finally decide to wear a black turtleneck dress which is just the perfect mixture of modest and sexy at the same time. You feel anxious to see Harry again, not sure how to act around him following your little gift exchange. There’s a chance he’ll just shut himself off once again and avoid you all night, you can’t tell.

Sarah’s place is already buzzing by the time you arrive, several guests are lounging in the living room and kitchen, some soft music is playing and it appears that everyone is enjoying the evening so far, judging from the laughter you hear from time to time.

“I’m so glad you came!” Sarah envelopes in a tight hug when you arrive.

“Thank you for inviting me. Here, brought some snacks,” you hand her the grocery bag you picked up on your way, not wanting to arrive empty-handed.

“Oh, you are an angel, some on in, make yourself home, take whatever you want to eat or drink!” she gestures around before bringing the bag into the kitchen.

The cozy home is already filled with a lot of people you don’t know, but you also spot Charlotte and Mitch right away so you take the safe spot in their little circle. You try your best to stay present in the conversation but you keep glancing around, looking for one particular person.

And then you finally see him. Harry emerges from the little hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom with Adam, seemingly deep in conversation as he nurses a beer in his hand. His checkered slacks and vintage printed t-shirt makes him appear so casual, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t even guess that he is actually a professor.

Harry laughs at something Adam just told him and his eyes glide around the room until they find you standing near the kitchen. He stops in his track, gaze running down your figure before it returns to your eyes and he seems to be in awe, like he doesn’t entirely believe it’s you he is seeing even though he knew you’d be coming. There’s nothing you want more than to run across the room and throw yourself into his arms. You spent way too much time thinking about him during Christmas and seeing him in the flesh now is a mixture of feelings you can’t really describe just now.

Neither of you leaves the conversation you are in the middle, but you keep glancing towards each other. You’re nervously moving the strawberry ring around your finger, feeling his burning gaze on your figure all the time. You haven’t taken it down since he has given it to you, it partially made it harder for you to stop thinking about him, because the jewelry was quite a loud reminder every time you glanced down at your hands.

Two drinks later your sister calls you, as always she wants to say happy new year before the lines get hectic at midnight, so you move out to the small balcony facing the street as you talk to your sister. The spicy night air feels amazing on your heated up skin, the turtleneck dress was a good choice, but it’s definitely getting hotter with each drink, especially with Harry’s lingering eyes as well. When you end the call you decide to stay outside a little longer, take a few moments to yourself.

You jump a little when you hear the sliding door open and you’re surprised to see Harry walk out.

“Hey, thought you might need this,” he smiles softly, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumble and let him wrap it around your shoulders. It provides just enough heat that your lips are not shaking anymore from the cold.

“What are you doing out here alone? Not enjoying the evening?”

“I am, I was just on the phone with my sister.”

“She’s older than you, right?” he asks and you tilt your head a little looking at him.

“How do you know that?”

“I, uhh… You have a lot of pictures with her on your Instagram,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Have you been stalking my profile?” you tease him, but he clearly takes it way more serious than you intended it to be.

“No, I swear it’s not like that, I just—“ he stammers but you cut him off placing a hand on his arms that are crossed over his chest.

“Harry, I was just teasing you. It’s fine,” you assure him, giving him a gentle squeeze before you are about to pull your hand back, but his hold stops you. He takes your hand in his, gently bringing it closer to his face as he examines the ring sitting on your finger.

“You’re wearing it,” he breathes out, a small cloud emitting from his pink lips as his thumb softly runs over the ring.

“Of course. I told you I love it.”

You can’t ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm palm against yours, his thumb delicately running over not just the ring, but down your finger as well before he lets go of your hand. You already miss his touch.

“So, how was Christmas?” he asks clearing his throat.

“Good, nothing extra. What about yours?”

“Same, went home to the family.”

“Do you often visit them?”

“Not as often as I would want to, but I’m trying to go every couple of months.” Harry turns towards the street, eyes running along the not too busy road that stretches past Sarah’s building. His hand comes up to the railing, fingers slightly drumming on it. “How come you didn’t bring anyone tonight?”

“Well, my roommates are still home and I also didn’t think you’d like the idea to have another student of yours around.”

“Right, yeah,” he nods, but you can tell something else is still on his mind. “So… no boyfriend to bring?”

You give him a puzzled look. Is this his way of asking if you are seeing anyone at the moment? Because if it is, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“No, not really. I guess you can say I’m not looking for one actively.”

“How come?” he asks with raised eyebrows, his body turning towards you as he leans against the railing. You give him a ‘really?’ look. You think about getting a little sassy and teasing with him, but then decide to just be straightforward instead.

“Because I’m kind of into my Methodology of Cultural Anthropology professor.”

Harry’s lips part as his eyes pierce into yours and for a moment you really think that he is about to flip, tell me how dare you say such thing to him and curse you out, but a second passes and his gaze softens as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Y/N…”

“What? I just answered your question,” you innocently shrug, looking away from him. Despite this long and weird game the two of have been playing these past months, this is the first time you openly admitted that you have a thing for him.

“You know how complicated it is and I told you that nothing can happen.” He shakes his head in defeat, a hint of disappointment in his tone, but it just grinds your gears.

“What, so you can ask about my dating life but I can’t say that I’m into you? How is that fair?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Well I think it is. Both are highly inappropriate to bring up in our situation, don’t you think? Yet you’re trying to put all the blame on me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just… forget about it. I really don’t want to fight with you.”

“Because you’re afraid I might actually win?” you sassily reply, crossing your arms on your chest.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, okay? Would you… let me?”

“If you haven’t realized it yet, I’m trying really hard to stay in my lane, but you’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m trying too, okay?” he growls, clearly losing his calmness at this point. “I’m really fucking trying, Y/N, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”

“You’re the one making it hard!”

“It’s not my fucking fault I can’t stop thinking about you!”

“Well it’s not my fault either!” you snap at him, both of you raising your voice, the rest of the party oblivious about the screaming match the two of you are having on the balcony. “If you’re so set on not letting anything happen, why do you come to me and act the opposite?”

“The opposite?!”

“Yes! It’s not quite appropriate to gift your student with a ring or ask them about their dating life. Or is it all new information to you?”

“You started with the gifting!”

“So what? You could have just left it there, but you didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t make me happy, but don’t try to put all the blame on me for saying something when you’re already crossing the lines.”

Harry stares at you with a hard look and you’d pay great amounts to actually read his thoughts at this moment. His jaw clenches as he exhales sharply, eyes turning away from you, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you.

“Make up your fucking mind,” you growl under your breath as you push your way past him and walk inside before he could get a word out.

For a well-respected, educated and smart man, Harry can act pretty fucking stupid, you think. He is not being fair and you will not apologize for anything you’ve said. If he doesn’t want anything to do with you, he needs to stay in his lane and not dance on the line, poking the sleeping lion. He doesn’t get to fuck around and then put all the blame on you, that’s just not how it works and he needs to learn that.

In the last hour that’s left until midnight you mingle with the guests and try to keep your thoughts of Harry at bay, though it’s quite the challenge since he lingers around you, keeping his eyes on you all the time, as if he is trying to piss you off or something, but you’re determined to be a mature adult and keep your composure.

You’re getting tired of this game and you’re not sure anymore if you are willing to wait around until Harry makes his mind up. Not when he doesn’t keep his own rules at least.

“Come on,” you mumble to yourself as you’re trying to open up a new bottle of wine, but the screw just wouldn’t move, no matter what you do. A hand reaches forward and wraps around the neck of the bottle, interrupting your pathetic misery.

“Let me help you.”

You let Harry take the bottle, biting into your bottom lip as you turn around and watch him easily open the bottle you’ve been fighting with the past ten minutes, he grabs your empty glass from the counter and fills it.

“Thank you,” you mumble when he hands it back and you take a sip right away. He places the bottle to the counter, fingers strumming on the surface before he takes a deep breath and speaks up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?”

“For the way I acted. You were totally right, I called you out for things that I did myself too, that was unfair of me.” He clears his throat, leaning against the counter with his back side as he crosses his arms on his chest. It brings out how toned his arms really are and you give yourself half a second to drool over that before you take another sip from your drink, forcing yourself to keep your thoughts under control.

“Thanks for acknowledging it,” you mumble, not sure what to say exactly. The two of you stand like that in silence, eyes roaming the guests, something clearly weighing down on both of you, but it’s hard to name and address it.

You can tell he is overthinking, the gears are almost visible, turning in that smart head of his, but you don’t want him to go into depths he shouldn’t. He really is making a bigger deal out of the situation that it already is, but it’s going to wreck him.

“Okay, I want to know, what was the worst way someone tried to flirt with you?”

Harry turns to you with a puzzled look, but you just sip on your wine, waiting for his answer.

“Um, I don’t… really keep track of it.”

“Oh come on,” you give him a look. “I know you have a story. I wanna hear it!”

Your eyes meet and he is searching in yours, trying to figure out what’s the sudden change in your mood when an hour ago you were ready to throw him off the balcony. Truth is you are just frustrated, because the situation feels so impossible. You never had to deal with such an amazing man, knowing he is into you as well, but you just can’t have him. The struggle is hard for the both of you but you can’t blame him entirely. Hating on him because he is not willing to take a risk that could easily ruin his entire life but at least his academic career is just not fair and you won’t put him through that.

Harry sees where you’re coming from and he shoots you a thankful smile before it turns into a smirk as he looks down at his hands.

“Professor Davids from the department of linguistics asked me to be her date for her ex-husband’s wedding.”

“What?” you gasp with wide eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She started swinging by my office all the time, trying to chat me up and then one day she asked if I wanted to go with her, that we would be staying at this nice hotel and all… she really thought it was a good idea.”

“That’s very awkward,” you laugh, entertained by the thought that Professor Davids would go so low when it came to dating. “I assume, you declined the invitation.”

“Faster than ever,” he chuckles making you laugh even louder. “Okay, your turn.”

“What?”

“I told you an awkward story, now it’s your turn.”

“Um, the worst was probably a promposal I got.”

“A promposal?” he asks with a puzzled look, his forehead creasing as he pulls his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, when they ask you out to go to prom.” “Oh, yeah. Didn’t know it had a specific name.”

“Because you are way too British,” you tease him and he just gives you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk hiding on his lips. “Well, anyway, I was dating a guy senior year, but this other one was convinced he could win me over and take me to prom. He brought a fucking mariachi band to school and gave me a serenade in the middle of the hallway while my boyfriend was standing next to me. He asked me to prom so confidently at the end of the song, like he actually had a shot but it was so painfully awkward,” you laugh at the memory shaking your head and Harry joins, finding it quite entertaining.

“He really did that to himself.”

“He did, I felt bad a little, but what was I supposed to do?”

You slip into telling more and more awkward stories, staying in the kitchen you create a little bubble, the rest of the guests don’t seem to exist as you enjoy yourself with Harry. This is the most carefree and loosest you’ve ever seen him around you and you quite like this version of him. So easy to talk to and even funnier than his usual self.

A little before midnight Sarah runs around with champagne, filling everyone’s glass, getting ready for the countdown. You and Harry join Charlotte, Adam and his wife in the corner of the living room as everyone is slowly getting excited for the last moments of the year.

Looking around you see a lot of couples, holding hands, hugging, clearly planning to snog the moment the clock hits midnight and when you glance at Harry on your right you’re convinced he is thinking about the same thing.

You’re not naïve, you don’t think he is going to kiss you, but you still allow yourself to play with the thought just a little. He is standing so close to you, just the tiniest move and you’d be touching him, skin to skin again, feel him under your—

The thought is abruptly interrupted when you feel his warm palm wrap around your hand, your whole body freezing and for a split second you think it’s just an accident, that his touch will disappear before you could even blink, but it stays there. Harry maneuvers his fingers until they are laced together with yours and he keeps a firm hold of your hand, hanging between the two of you, staying hidden because you’re standing close to each other. Your breath catches in your throat and you’re afraid if you dare to move he’ll let go of your hand.

Another version of yourself would laugh hysterically at how worked up you are right now just because he is holding your hand, but the you that’s actually in the moment is about to burst just by this small touch. You have absolutely no idea what it means or why he chose to do it, but you don’t really care about it. You just want to absorb all the heat you feel coming from him where his palm meets yours, fingers braided together tightly, as if he is trying to keep you next to him, like he thinks you are about to disappear and it’s way of anchoring you to him, but truth is you don’t want to go anywhere.

“One minute, everyone!” Sarah sings in excitement as she turns on the TV and puts a huge clock on the screen that’s counting the seconds as well. You shyly glance to the side, finding Harry standing motionless next to you and when he notices you looking, his eyes meet yours. He looks terrified, like a lost little boy and you can’t tell if he is afraid of your reaction or because of what his actions might bring on him. But you want him to know that you are completely okay with where it’s heading.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins and you inch closer to Harry so you’re pressed against his side, his body heat radiating into your skin even through the layers of clothes you two are wearing.

Harry leans down the moment you lift your head, his face is so close, it wouldn’t take much for you to finally kiss him, do the one thing you haven’t stopped thinking about for months.

“Y/N…” he breathes out and it’s a tortured plea, he is begging you to stop him from doing something he might regret, but you are dying for him to finally sin. You want him to give it up already, you have absolutely no desire to be the burden that keeps him in his lane. You need him to cross the line and stay there.

“I’m not stopping you, Harry,” you tell him quietly, the urge to close the distance between the two of you is burning inside you.

“Seven! Six! Five!” the countdown continues, but it all tones out, you can only see, hear and feel Harry.

“We can’t,” he whines, closing his eyes as he exhales shakily.

“We can, we just shouldn’t,” you correct him, his eyes snap open and meet yours again. You can tell he is so close to finally giving in and let his feelings and desires take control and you will not try to stop him.

His face inches the tiniest bit closer and his forehead is almost touching yours now, you can see every curly eyelash that frames his gorgeous green eyes that are now filled with fear and nerves.

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone screams together as the clock finally hits midnight while you just stare at Harry holding your breath, praying that he is finally ballsy enough to take this step.

“Harry, please,” you beg, not too proud of it, but you just can’t take it any longer. His hand is gripping yours tightly as he closes his eyes again and for a second you think that it’s gonna happen. He is going to give up the act and finally kiss you.

But right when the moment is burning the most… he pulls back and your heart sinks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand lets go of yours and it feels like your arm is ripped off, tears are welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” you mumble under your breath, chugging down the champagne before making your way through the living room, determined to leave as soon as possible.

“Y/N, wait, where are you going?” you hear him calling after you, but you don’t stop. You get rid of the empty champagne glass and grab your coat from the rack, storming out of the apartment as if you had somewhere to be.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you run down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. You hear the other pair of feet running behind you and Harry calling after you, but it’s not stopping you.

You push the front door of the building open, but it’s heavy, so it slows you down just enough that Harry can grab your wrist when you are about to start running down the street.

“Y/N, don’t go, let me explain!”

“No!” you snap at him. “I don’t fucking want to hear your explanation! I’m done, Harry! I’m fucking done! I was trying to be patient and respectful, I didn’t want to make it worse for you and let you do your thing, but you kept dancing back and forth and I can’t keep doing this, so I guess I’m sorry too.”

You’re choking on your own words that echo from the walls, the street is almost entirely empty, the world is still celebrating the new year while you’re at your breaking point. Harry stands in front of you, defeated and panic all over his face as he listens to you.

“I will not sit around and let you play your little games any longer, because you can’t make up your mind whether you want me or not.”

“Y/N I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!” he snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s the problem! This shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you!”

“Then do something about it!” you beg through your tears.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” you scream at him. “You can but you probably just don’t want me enough to actually do it! And it’s fine, but—“

You don’t get to finish your rant because Harry firmly grabs your arm, yanks you towards him and with one swift movement, his lips are crashing against yours.

It all happens so fast but your body reacts before your mind could process what’s really happening, fists bunching a handful of his sweater as you pull him against you, his hands flying up to your face, cupping them confidently as he kisses you hard and demandingly.

It’s like a fucking dam that’s been broken, everything you both kept bottled up and under control just breaks loose and it’s a kind of a wild fight for trying to devour each other now that all lines has been crossed an blurred into nothingness.

He is the dominant one, but you do some pushing and pulling on your own as well. You’re forced to take a few steps backwards, back arching at how forcefully he is pushing forward, lips smacking against each other over and over again, his tongue meeting yours, swirling and dancing around with yours, a shameless moan escaping your mouth.

His hands roam down your sides and you jumps when they reach the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. He keeps you up easily, fingers digging into your flesh where your butt meets your thighs and this angle allows you to be completely pressed up against him and feel every single inch of his body that burns for you.

It’s beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, you’re not sure it’s because of the build-up that led to this point or simply the chemistry you two got, but it blows your mind, making you question how you could go this long without ever kissing him.

“Harry, I want you,” you moan when his lips move down to your jawline, kissing and biting on the soft skin, tasting you wherever he can reach.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he breathes out resting his forehead against yours before kissing you again.

“Take me home then.”

“Are you sure?” he pants as you run your fingers through his hair and tug on his gently, earning a whimper from his perfectly pink and swollen lips. You love this satisfied dew on his face, especially because you know it’s because of you.

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You unwrap your legs from around his waist and return to the ground, but not without him leaning down to kiss you once more before he grabs your hand and starts pulling you down the street. You spot his Rover right away and start sprinting, Harry following you right behind with a carefree laugh.

Settled in your seats he starts driving, but you can’t keep yourself away from him. His hand that’s not on the steering wheel is gripping your thigh as you lean over the console and start kissing his cheek, jawline and the corner of his mouth as one of your hands runs down his chest until it reaches his pants.

“Love, if you move further down we’re gonna crash,” he warns you with a shaky breath. “I drank a little too and I’m already fucking gone from kissing you, if you touch me I’m gonna lose it.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before sitting back in your seat. You need every bit of your patience and self-control to stay modest on the way back to his place. Hands gripping his you bring it up to your lips, kissing his knuckles gently as he speeds down the empty streets. It’s still barely over midnight, everyone is still celebrating, oblivious to how important this moment is to the two of you.

You really thought this would be the end. When he pulled away at midnight all hope was lost for you and it broke your heart to know that he will never choose you over his better judgment.

It’s your first time at Harry’s but you don’t really care to look around as the two of you make your way inside the townhouse, lips already melted together as you stumble through the dark hallway, not wanting to let go of each other. You successfully make it into his bedroom and Harry turns on the bedside lamp while you’re already eagerly getting rid of your coat and shoes. He does the same, clothes start to litter the hardwood flooring hastily, but neither of you is thinking about them. Harry scoops you into his arms once again, kissing your lips passionately as he bunches your dress up at your hips until he can finally grip the end of it and pull it over your head.

“Oh shit!” you giggle, the turtleneck getting stuck on your head for a moment before you’re free from it.

“That big head of yours,” he chuckles kissing your forehead.

“Shut up,” you smack his chest gently, pushing him down to the bed so you can straddle him, knees on his sides as you sit on his lap, lips meeting again.

He throws his hands up when you start pulling his t-shirt up and once the fabric is off of his body, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. Your skin meets his and it feels heavenly, only little clothing separating the two of you at this point.

Harry scoots backwards and then throws you to the mattress, getting on top of you without your lips ever parting. His hips are pushed against yours and you can feel everything through the thin material of his slacks. Without even knowing you grind your hips, your core meeting his erection in the movement and he moans uncontrollably at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips and you can’t push your smirk down at his reaction.

“Yeah, fuck me, Harry,” you tease him before your lips get occupied once again.

His hands work fast. He unclasps your bra without you even noticing, the straps falling from your shoulders before he gets rid of it, throwing it across the room as if it did something against him. When his hungry eyes fall down on your naked chest you see the same kind of torture in his eyes that was there when he was fighting with himself before.

“Harry, stop thinking,” you tell him, fingers massaging his scalp as you lace them through his hair. “It’s fine, we’re fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions again and you pull him down for a reassuring kiss.

“One hundred percent. I want this. I want you.”

“Oh God, I want you so bad,” he whines again, lips kissing down your jawline, neck and collarbone before they attack your breasts.

He cups them, licks and bites them, making you a whimpering mess underneath him every time his tongue meets your hot skin. This man will be the death of you. As he moves down your body, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he glances up at your for reassurance once again, you nod eagerly, lifting your hips so he can easily glide the fabric down and off of your body. Harry sits up, eyes burning down on your naked body lying in front of him as he undoes his own pants, pushing them down his long legs until they join the rest on the floor. You push yourself up when his hands move to his boxers, you want to be the one to take them off. He gladly backs his hands off when you reach out and start tugging them down. He kneels on the bed as you pull the fabric down and his erection finally becomes free, making you ache for him immediately. Once the boxers are out of the way completely you want to reach out to touch him, but he stops you, hands wrapping around your wrist before they could reach him.

Your eyes snap up to meet his darkened gaze, questioning why he stopped you.

“Y/N, I… If we do this, there’s no going back,” he breathes out with a pained look. You push yourself up to your knees so you meet his height, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a sweet kiss that he hesitantly but returns.

“I know what you think about us, Harry, but I assure you, that I’m completely fine with it. But if you don’t want it to happen, we can just… lie here. I’m fine with that too. Kissing you was already such a gift for me,” you smile at him, gently pecking his lips.

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret it. I’m not pushing you, right?”

“If anyone, it’s me pushing you,” you chuckle softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as well. “You didn’t push anything on me, alright? We are both adults and it’s completely fine. We’ll figure out the rest, I just want to focus on you now. Can I do that?”

Harry nods, still looking a little unsure, but you can tell he is starting to settle in his mindset. It’s not just him that worries about the other regretting something. You know how torn up he is about anything that’s about you and though you want him more than anything, you still don’t want to push him into doing something he is not entirely comfortable with.

“Do you want this?” you softly ask, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I do. I’m just—“

“Then it’s all good, Harry. We both want it, nothing else matters for now,” you tell him, wanting nothing else than to finally see him enjoy himself entirely. “Lay down for me,” you tell him, feeling like you taking the lead is a good idea now.

He does as you asked him to, lying down on the mattress, head sinking into his pillow as he blinks up at you, watching you swing a leg over him before settling to sit on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, wanting to make sure he feels completely comfortable with you. Pleasing him is your number one priority right now. He nods, lips parting as he watches your hand reach out and wrap around the base of his erected length. He whimpers under your touch, his eyes fall closed when you gently pump him a few times, his cock fits so well in your palms, like pieces of a puzzle.

Leaning down you kiss his fern tattoos on each sides of his hips before placing one to his leaking tip, sliding your hands to the base before you slowly and gradually take him into your mouth.

You’re not planning to make him cum with your mouth, but you’ve been dying to taste him and it’s just as good as you imagined. The way his body reacts to your touch, the noises that leave his kissable lips, this man is completely out of this world and you want to explore every inch of his body.

You bob your head a couple of times, just enough to wet his length and work him up for what’s coming next. When you let him go of your mouth and you move a little up on his body so that his cock can be lined up with your hole, you look at him to see if he is still down to continue. One hand holding his cock, the other one flat on his naked chest, you ask him a question with your eyes that he answers with his hands squeezing your hips.

“I have the implant. Do you want to put on a condom?” you ask him at last.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to put one on?”

“I want to feel you,” you tell him shaking your head.

“Okay,” he nods so it’s settled.

Leaning down you peck his lips one last time before you push the head inside and then slowly ease yourself down on his throbbing length.

“Oh fuck!”

“Harry, oh my God!” you both moan at the sensation of him finally entering you. You’ve had your fair share of sexual intercourses throughout your life, but none of them felt this good. None of them pleasured you this good so fast and easily, just the feel of him being inside you is making you lose your mind.  

You start off slow, wanting to feel him just right, get used to his size, but as soon as you feel more comfortable, you pick up a faster pace. His fingers are digging into your flesh at your hips as he holds onto you for dear life, panting and moaning at your motions. He glides in and out of you perfectly, setting your senses on fire practically.

“Harry, you feel so good,” you gasp, getting lost in the feeling. Sex has always been a good experience for you, but with Harry it’s a whole different story. As if he just opened a completely new world you never even knew about before.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh fuck!”

Harry pushes himself up, an arm coming around your back as he easily flips the two of you over, your back gently hitting the soft mattress. He holds himself up above you, lips crashing with yours as he starts to do the work this time, thrusting in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours forcefully as you both nearing the end.

“You’re making me lose my fucking mind, Y/N,” he cries out, head falling to the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around him as a shield, holding him tight against you.

It doesn’t take long after that. He is hitting just the right spots, making you moan his name over and over again as your orgasm slowly devours you and washes over your whole body while he is still relentlessly moving.

“Harry! Oh… Fuck!” you gasp, legs and hands shaking and you clench your muscles around him, throwing him over the edge with you. He falls out of his rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he moans against the hot skin of your neck, coming undone in your arms.

Nothing has ever felt this intense and mind-blowing and you’re now sure you’re addicted to him, there’s no turning back, not that you want that.

He collapses on top of you, still inside you, his body weighing down on you heavily, but it feels just fine. You run your arms up and down his sides, kissing the side of his head as you are both trying to catch your breath. It takes a few minutes for him to come back to reality with you, he lifts his head and moves to the side so he is not crushing you anymore, but an arm remains thrown over your abdomen. His vibrant green eyes are shining like never before when they meet your tired gaze and cupping his face in your palm you pull him in for a slow kiss where you finally have the time to actually taste him without the rushing of your own needs and urges.

“How are you feeling?” you softly asking, knowing well how major this was for him. You wouldn’t want him to spiral and start to self-destruct because of what just happened.

“I’m feeling fine,” he murmurs lowly, his fingers dancing on your naked side. “Just still a little torn if I did the right thing.”

“You worry too much. We did nothing wrong.”

“Not sure everyone would agree with that.”

“Fuck everyone else,” you chuckle and a smile tugs on his lips as well. “I will not feel bad for having the best sex of my life with a hot as fuck man I’m really into,” you bluntly tell him, earning a smug grin.

“Best sex of your life, huh?”

“Not even ashamed to admit,” you nod into the pillow. “How… was it for you?” you shyly ask, afraid his answer might disappoint you. But Harry pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against his chest, his lips capture yours, kissing you fiercely, making your heart skip a few beats for sure.

“Fucking amazing, baby. Probably the best I ever had too,” he admits, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle against his chest once he has rolled to his back.

Silence comes over the two of you, you’re listening to his steady heartbeat, mindlessly drawing patterns over his chest. Lifting your head your eyes meet his and you can tell he has been thinking hard about what this all means for the future now.

“I’m in,” you simply tell him.

“Huh?”

“If you are thinking that I might not want to do this with you, that I just wanted a good fuck, that’s not what I think of this. If you want to give us a chance, I’m totally in.”

“You think we can make it work?” he quietly asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Of course,” you smile at him warmly. “You don’t?”

“I do, I’m just… there are so many things that can go wrong.”

“Then… we’ll make them right.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, clearly having a hard time to take it as easy as you do and you wish you could magically make all his doubts go away.

Sitting up you put your hands on each of his sides, looking down at him determined to bring out his confidence in the two of you.

“We just have to be patient and careful until I finish. Then we are basically free. That’s just one more semester. It could be way worse, we can make it work for a couple of months before we can finally do whatever we want. That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Harry shakes his head, reaching up he tugs your hair behind your ear before running his fingers down the side of your face.

“So we are really doing this?” he breathes out, a small smile on his sweet, pink lips.

“Well, I’m surely not giving up on this, we came a long way to be here,” you chuckle. “Question is, are you gonna give up on us? On… me?”

“Hell no,” he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. You smile down at him and leaning down you peck his lips tenderly.

“Then… we really are doing this.”

SEQUEL: 🌊 AN OCEAN AWAY 🌊

-

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[dwellordream]

“...First, let’s talk about materials. We can rule out a Steppe Nomad inspiration for any of this right off. The Eurasian Steppe is very large and covers a range of arid climates (that is to say, parts of it are colder, parts of it are warmer), but they all have spinning and weaving technology, by which the supple hairs of woolly animals, or plant fibers like linen, or cotton, or even natural protein fibers like silk can be fashioned into fabric which is more flexible, comfortable, breathable and temperature controlled than the raw leather we see in the show.

...there is a distinct lack here of lots of leather, except in the sort of things that lots of cultures use leather for (boots, fittings, saddles, bags, tents). Instead, clothing is mostly made out of nice, comfortable, breathable textiles, because of course it is. That is not to say, to be clear, that leather or hides or fur were never used – fur especially was used; merely that they were generally used to supplement clothing primarily made out of textile.

...Now Plains Native American clothing does make much greater use of animal skin as a clothing material, but there is an important distinction to be made here. The problem here is with the plasticity of the term ‘leather’ which can technically include a wide range of products, but in practice is understood to mean exactly what the Game of Thrones costume department and literally every piece of official artwork of the Dothraki understand it to mean, which is the product of tanning processes.

I am not an expert, but as far as I can tell, Native American clothing was not made in the same way; animal products were used in a process I have seen described as ‘brain tanning’ (rather than using chemical tannins) and the final product was then smoked. The result – which is often called ‘buckskin’ regardless of the animal source for the hide – is very different from the leather we see in the show.

This is, in terms of material, very clearly not what the ‘vests’ the Dothraki in the show are wearing. Buckskin would also be used to make trousers, as opposed to the “horsehair leggings” of Martin’s wording, which also strike me as deeply improbable. Haircloth – fabric made from horsehair (or camel hair) – is durable, but typically stiff, unsupple and terribly itchy; not something you want in direct contact with your skin (especially not between your rear end and a saddle), unless you just really like skin irritation. It is also a difficult material to get in any kind of significant quantity – and you would need a significant quantity if you intended to make most of your trousers out of it.

...Well that’s for materials, what about patterns? Once again, we can quite easily rule out anything steppe inspired. Again, the Eurasian Steppe is big and has lots of variety, but relatively long robes are generally the norm in terms of dress; where long robes were not worn (see our Scythian above), the common pattern was heavy sleeved garments and trousers with very complete coverage. A common example of the type of long robe-like garments is the Mongolian deel, a long sleeved robe or tunic which provides a lot of protection against the elements. In the case of elites – and Daenerys is, initially, mostly around elites – these could be made of expensive silk or brocade – but poorer versions might be made of wool.

...And there is good reason for these relatively high-coverage garments. Plains or Steppe peoples naturally tend to live on, well, plains and steppes – that is large expanses of semi-arid grasslands. The very nature of that terrain configuration produces fairly extreme seasonal temperature variations (that is, very hot summers and very cold winters) as well as extreme daily temperature variations (that is, hot days and cold nights) because such places are far from large bodies of water and also don’t have tree-cover, both of which serve to moderate rapid temperature changes.

Consequently, as anyone who has lived in a plains state in the USA (or on the Eurasian Steppe, though that is fewer of my readers, but for my brave handful of hits from that part of the world, hello and welcome!) can tell you, you need clothes that can be layered and which can be both warm in the winter and cool in the summer. For us moderns, we mostly do this by owning multiple season-specific wardrobes, but clothing is expensive in pre-modern societies, so multi-purpose garments, or garments that be layered, to turn a warm-weather outfit into a cold-weather outfit are important!

There’s no reason to suppose the Dothraki Sea would be any different: it sits at about the same latitude as King’s Landing so there is little reason to assume it would be warm all-year-round. Parts of the Eurasian Steppe stretch decently far south, sharing a latitude with northern Italy and Spain; nevertheless they do not enjoy the same Mediterranean climate because they don’t have the same exposure to the weather patterns created by the sea. The southern end of the Great Plains stretches down all the way into Texas, but still gets properly cold in the winter with temperatures regularly dipping below freezing in the winter despite the latitude. For a people who are camping and working outside all of the time, warm clothing is going to be a must.

...There is tremendous variety here, but I don’t think any of it could be aptly described simply as “Men and women alike wore painted leather vests over bare chests and horsehair leggings.” Now, if you looked hard enough could you find something that resembled Martin’s leather vests, bare chests and horsehair leggings somewhere in the clothing of Native Americans across two continents? Probably, but among the specific Native peoples that Martin cites as inspiration, it does not seem to be at all common. And if that description was wholly unconnected to anything in the real world, we might well stop there and conclude that, well this is just the ‘dash of pure fantasy’ that Martin was talking about (although as we’ll see, it is going to be quite a bit more than just a dash). But I don’t think we can stop there, because (removing the medallion belts) Martin’s description does adequately describe something that exists in the real world: Halloween costumes purporting to depict Native Americans.

...The vest-and-pants style of Native American Halloween costume seems to be rather rare now, but it was, at least to my memory, much more common in the 1990s, when A Game of Thrones was written (initial publication date of 1996). You can see them, for instance, on many of the background extras in the famous Thanksgiving scene from Addams Family Values (1993) and that vest style was also a part of the outfit for the also-quite-unfortunately-branded YMCA Indian Guides/Indian Princesses program (rebranded as the ‘Adventure Guides’ in 2003 after decades of Native Americans complaining about it) which was also fairly popular in the 1990s.

Now, I am not saying that Martin planned to construct his Dothraki out of Native American stereotypes and bad Halloween costumes. In fact, I am fairly confident he intended nothing of the sort. But in the absence of doing some effective research (and it is going to become increasingly apparent that at least effective research was not done) there was quite possibly nothing else to inform the effort other than what was ‘in the air’ of the popular consciousness. Of course the danger of those often simplistic public stereotypes is that people often do not know that they have them, assuming instead that the vague impression they have is essentially accurate (or at least, close enough for a regular person). And that’s a real problem because it reinforces the popular stereotype, especially given Martin’s reputation for writing more ‘historically grounded’ fiction. And that is a problem because…

The clothing that the Dothraki are described and visually shown wearing is clearly intended to convey things about their society. Returning to our visual comparison above, it is easy to see that the actual clothing of both Eurasian and American ‘horse cultures’ was often bright, highly decorated and generally eye-catching, featuring complex patterns and shapes. It was both nice looking, but also spoke to the humanity of the people that made it and their very human desire to look nice and have nice looking things. By contrast, the clothing of the Dothraki is presented as simple, rugged and unadorned.

...I want to stress this to make the point clear: people in the past liked to look nice! Much of the popular perception of pre-modern clothing assumes lots of dull, drab colors, undecorated or merely adorned with rough pelts, but this is almost entirely a Hollywood construction. The Romans didn’t exclusively dress in white (indeed, the toga candida, the white toga, was an unusually formal thing to wear, like a politician’s suit-with-flag-pin), medieval peasants didn’t wear drab brown (they dressed in bright primary colors mostly), and as I hope the historical pictures for this essay show, both steppe nomads and Plains Native Americans wore nice clothing with lots of patterns, color and decoration. These men next to Khal Drogo are his elite guard of ‘bloodriders,’ the companions of a ruler who wields tremendous power and wealth! And yet they have opted to wear mostly undecorated bland brown leather.

Just to underline this point, think about what a fine set of clothing communicates to an observer (for instance, one of Khal Drogo’s thousands of mounted warrior retainers who are present at this event). Imported goods, like metalwares (which nomads won’t generally be able to make themselves) or fine imported fabrics demonstrate not only trade contacts but also often that the leader has useful ties to foreign leaders (since such things were often gifts or tribute from foreign courts). Garments whose production, due to fine patterns, complex weaves, intricate beading or quillwork, would take many, many hours of production demonstrate that the leader has a lot of subordinate people in their household (in many cases, that would mean women), which both implies the ability to give these people as gifts (either in marriage or because of their non-free status) and also the access to resources (in this case herds of animals) needed to sustain so many people – in short, the sort of leader who can reward faithful warriors richly.

And of course a leader who outfits his closest retainers – his bloodriders, in this case – with such wares (especially expensive foreign metal military equipment) demonstrates both access to military capital and also the ability to reward his trusted lieutenants. In short, the Khal whose person and immediate retainers are decked out in finery looks like backing the winning side, which is a very important thing to assess as one of his warriors. So even if not one of Drogo’s men cares about their personal appearance at all, it is still politically important for them to dress for success.

Which then demands the question, looking at the very fine clothing of historical horse cultures that supposedly provided the inspiration for these Dothraki fellows: Where is the exquisite bead work? The fine quillwork? Where are the carefully made fringes? Where is the silk brocade? Where are the detailed, complex patterns?”

- Bret Devereaux, “That Dothraki Horde, Part I: Barbarian Couture.”

[exquisitley-obsessed]

The Dinosaur and the Vampire Part Two (carlisle cullen x reader)

Request: hi can you do a one shot for Twilight where the reader is best friends with Bella and is there at the car crash in the first movie, they go to hospital and that’s where the reader meets Carlisle, really fluffy, thanks

Word Count: Long

Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Warnings: nothing

A/N: This is part two of this request because it was so highly requested!! Thank you so much for the love and support!! I’m back re-reading the twilight series so if you have any requests just send them my way<3

MASTLERLIST

“I’ll see if we can sort this thing out.”

It was the last thing he had said to her with a small and yet reassuring smile before he turned and walked through those pale doors and apparently, y/n’s life. She hadn’t seen Dr Cullen since the day of the accident. Hell, she had barely seen his adopted children. Spring was warming into summer, the sun glittering down through the immense greenery and the Cullens were never around when it was sunny. 

Bella and Edward were getting closer with every passing day. He had taken over their morning ride together, stopping by in his silver Volvo to pick Bella up, every so often flashing a smile at y/n as she climbed into her own less flashy car. Edward was kind enough to leave Bella to y/n after school, considering they both finished with gym. It was precious time for the pair as they recounted their day and filled each other in on gossip, none of it proving to be that interesting. Well, apart from the budding romance between Bella and Edward.

Despite y/n’s secret complaints every time Bella disappeared from a study session or cancelled a trip to Port Angeles, she knew her prejudice came from no genuine malice toward Edward. After all, he was lovely. Since the day of the accident his attitude towards y/n had done a 180, before he had never so much as spared her a glance and now he smiled at her in the corridor, even sat next to her in English, the only class they shared together. He made little conversation, most of it was inquiring after Bella but it was nice to have made a new friend.

It just seemed unfair. They way he had spoken in the hospital made it seem as if something would happen, perhaps an apology gift or an invitation to their mansion up in the woods. Something. Edward’s cordial behaviour was pleasant but in no way satisfactory. Y/n wished in every spare moment to see the doctor again, and when she wasn’t wishing to see him she was imagining what it would be like to see him. Maybe he’d pick the Cullen’s up after school or maybe there would be some big event in town which everyone went to. It was a silly thought since the Cullens were rarely grouped with ‘everyone’. So her mind of drifted to the idea of herself being injured, dragged into hospital only to have his face, angelic and flushed in light hovering above her.

“Stupid.” She muttered under her breath, dismissing the thought instantly. Bella threw her a glance, “Forgot to carry the one.” Y/n lied as she smiled and looked back down at her barely touched maths homework. All this pining and obsessive thinking made her feel so little and insignificant. She felt like a student with a crush on their teacher, and in many ways she was. Every time his name or ivory face rolled into her mind a small voice in her head protested.

She hated that voice. It was the one that reminded her she was only a junior in high school. The one that mocked her, told her that he was an adult with a job, a medical job that must have demanded a couple of years of study pushing him into his late twenties. What doctor has time for a high school student with a crush. A crush that was so overt she couldn’t even talk to Bella about it. Bella who had quickly grown into becoming her best friend, Bella who was dating Carlisle’s adopted son, Bella who was currently packing her things into her bag with haste.

“Where are you going?” Y/n hated the small whine in her voice and tried to play it off with a smile. She wanted to be happy for Bella and Edward and deep down she was, they were just a reminder that she was getting nowhere with her own crush and, most likely, never would.

“I’m running up to Edward’s to pick up his Bio questions. I forgot about them and he offered to help.” She smiled, oblivious to y/n’s anguish.

They were camped out in Bella’s room, a strange sounding CD playing in the background as they finished off their schoolwork. It had become a bit of a ritual to spend time with each other doing insignificant things. Bella was nice like that, never desperate to go anywhere or really do anything, happy to stay inside. Plus Charlie liked having y/n in the house, he was always asking her questions about her parents, grateful Bella was able to make such a good friend so soon.

“M’kay.” Y/n followed in suit, shoving her unfinished problems into her bag. This was her cue to leave. “How is Edward by the way?”

“He’s...fine?” Bella smiled wryly through her lashes, “Why are you asking?”

“Oh, it’s just, you always fill me in on your gossip but never actually tell me how he is.” Y/n smiled back as they both padded down the stairs.

“He’s fine. I think. His family’s a bit nervous about us actually.”

“Oh.” Y/n tried to make her voice sound as inconspicuous as possible, hiding her feral craving for more information on the Cullens.

“Well...it’s mostly just Rosaline, you know the blonde one.”

“The gorgeous one.”

“They’re all gorgeous.” Bella sighed.

“You got that right.” Y/n muttered under her breath. Pale hair melting into pale skin - the human equivalent of snow.

“Anyways,” Bella sighed not hearing her, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yup!” Y/n called over her shoulder as she hopped the fence between their two houses, pulling the keys out of her pocket.

A loud engine revved distantly followed by the squealing of car tires as a silver blur flashed down the street before halting in front of them. Edward. He was out of the car quickly, a broad grin stretched across his cheeks. He was smiling at Bella, of course. Y/n was happy for them, smiling to herself as she pushed her keys into the door.

“Hey y/n!” His voice was both silken and broad.

“Hey!” Y/n spun around shooting him a grin, “How are you, I haven’t seen you for a while.” It was nice now that she was able to actually carry a conversation with him, that they weren’t just strangers.

“Yeah weather’s been nice, Carlisle took us up this trail in the mountains. It was beautiful.” Edward said his name so casually and yet the word stunned her for a minute. It had been so long since she had actually heard it said aloud.

“Oh,” She murmured, her breath somewhat stuck in her throat. His eyes were careful, assessing her despite his broad welcoming smile. “Well you owe me,” Y/n relaxed back into the conversation, “I’ve been taking over Bella runs to school.” His laugh was loud and rare.

“Hey!” Bella half-protested tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “I didn’t realise I was such a burden to you guys.”

“Aw, it’s okay.” Y/n smiled, her keys feeling slippery in her fingers, “You make up for it with good conversation.” Y/n turned back to the door, mentally preparing for her night of microwaved meals and algebra.

“Y/n,” Edward’s voice surprisingly called out, “I’m running Bella up to mine for some biology questions but I wouldn’t mind if you came. I’ve got that first edition Hardy I was telling you about in English.”

The offer was most shocking to Bella who turned, utterly stunned, to gawk at her boyfriend. Y/n felt as though she had just been slapped as her heart lurched, sure her and Edward were chatty but the fact he was now inviting her to his house - the Cullens house. She did a quick mental calculation. On one hand she was invading Bella’s privacy with Edward but it was him who offered the invitation, on the other hand, well she might just see him. If it were anyone else y/n would have politely declined and been happy with soggy potatoes and Pythagoras, but she felt completely and utterly compelled to accept. The mere chance that he might be there in that house was enough for y/n to waltz her way into the back of Edward’s silver Volvo.

***

Edward drove like a maniac and somehow, that made sense. Y/n gripped the edge of her seat as she glanced out the window focusing on the never ending blur of blue and green. The conversation was casual and somewhat stilted but y/n couldn’t even try to care, her mind was already there in the Cullens house. She pictured popping into Edward’s room to grab the book and bumping into him, or the scenario where he was in the kitchen, or what about seeing him as he comes home from work, wearing the same pale shirt and tie.

Y/n hated how obsessive her mind was. But it genuinely felt as though she couldn’t help it, as though she had no control over her thoughts whatsoever. A small knot had twisted its way into existence in her gut and what was worse, they had already arrived.

“You guys can stay for a bit,” Edward got out the car heading into what can only be described as a mansion. “I’m pretty sure everyone’s out.” These seemed to ease something in Bella but had the opposite effect on y/n. Trying not to think about it y/n was quick behind Edward and Bella who had loosely interlocked their fingers as they walked in.

Taking her time, y/n absorbed what was probably the most beautiful house she had ever seen. Wood and glass flowing from wall to wall in eccentric shapes and patterns. Artwork y/n would never understand slung across the walls. A grand piano, smooth like silk displayed in the corner

“Oh, y/n.” Edward called her back to reality, “I’m pretty sure I left the book in the kitchen, I was going to bring it to you tomorrow.” Y/n was taken aback.

“Wow, thanks Edward. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, “You’re free to get it, Kitchen’s just up the stairs and to the right.” Y/n smiled at him gratefully before heading up the stairs. Partly to leave Bella and Edward in peace, partly to admire the home interrupted. She took her time going to the kitchen, admiring the way the Cullens lived. Of course they lived somewhere like this.

Once in the kitchen, y/n spotted a worn copy of ‘Tess of the d’Urbervilles’ waiting for her. Picking it up she thumbed through the first few pages noticing small faded scribbles in pencil - it would be nice to have a look in Edward’s mind.

“Y/n.” 

All he said was her name and yet she knew in an instant who it was. Snapping the book shut and spinning around, there he was. His trousers were dark and tucked into them was a crisp shirt, white as skin and unbuttoned slightly, the sleeves rolled up to display his forearms. They looked like marble, pale and stony and completely solid. His silver hair was swept away from his face, his eyes a golden brown similar to Edward’s. “How did you...” he trailed off, his voice soft and distant, not a hint of anger.

“Sorry Carlisle,” Edward appeared out of thin air behind her. She took note of how he never called him ‘dad’. “I thought everyone was out. I brought y/n and Bella up to collect some things for school.” The two Cullen’s stared intensely at each other, something passing between them in that look.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n blurted after a moment, feeling as though she had intruded, “I’ve got what I came for,” She held up the book, “I can head back now.” She attempted a half-smile not meeting Carlisle’s eyes.

“It’s fine.” He said almost too quickly. His voice quiet, meditated. “You’re no bother to me.” The way he spoke, it was so elegant and unlike anyone in town. “I see you two are friends now after the accident.” Edward and y/n shared a glance.

“It was no big problem really.” Y/n felt herself melting into his presence, now more confident to steal looks at his unwavering eyes, fixed on her. “Just a scratch.”

“Still,” A smile had warmed into his stony cheeks, evidently comfortable himself as he busied himself with a folder already fanned out on the counter top, “Edward’s behaviour was unacceptable. He did apologise?” Carlisle leaned on his forearms, his smile widening.

“Yes...I did.” Edward groaned, y/n couldn’t help but giggle. He then turned to her, “You should’ve heard the verbal lashing I got when I came home.”

“Edward.” Carlisle warned, his smile dropping disapprovingly. Edward held y/n’s gaze for a moment before slowly reaching Carlisle's stare, again something seemed to pass between the two. “Did you say Bella was here?” Carlisle swiftly changed the topic.

“Yeah, I best go find her.” Edward added, the two easing the tension with expertise. “Before she falls down two flights of stairs and through a window or something.” He muttered.

“Wouldn’t put it past her.” Y/n agreed.

“Me neither.” Carlisle added distantly causing y/n to flash a smile at him. Edward bounded out of the room, distantly calling Bella’s name as he began his search. “Good book.” Carlisle commented.

“Yeah when Edward said I could borrow his first edition I was in shock to be honest.” Making conversation was disturbingly easy.

“You can take anything you want from our library, it’s full of first editions.” Carlisle said without thinking, “It’s sort of a...hobby. For us.” The way he said ‘us’ made y/n shiver, he knew that him and his family were exclusive, outsiders. Us and them, and y/n couldn’t figure out what side she was on.

“I have a feeling this one will take me a while but thanks. I’ll keep your offer in mind.” She smiled without thinking.

“It’s nice to see Edward’s making friends. We’ve been here a few years now and he’s only just branching out.”

“Well, ‘making friends’ is a bit of an overstatement,” She leaned back against the counter top, comfortable, “Technically me and Bella are the only two people he’s talked to outside of his own family. And I’m pretty sure he’s only putting up with me because I live next to Bella, that and your...verbal lashing.”

“It wasn’t that bad, honestly.” Carlisle chuckled to himself.

“Thank you though, nonetheless.” He eyed her carefully, his golden orbs flitting across her face and, unless she was mistaken, for a moment they glanced down her body.

“Your cut cleaned up perfectly.” He spoke into the silence, “No scarring at all.”

“I don’t think I would’ve minded a scar. At least it would be a conversation starter.” He laughed, it was softer than Edward’s, more rounded and from deep within his chest.

“Ah yes, then you could tell everyone about the time you walked into a car door.”

“Technically, I think the car door walked into me.” He laughed again and y/n’s chest swelled with pride. She was doing it, holding a conversation with him at ease. “It feels like ages ago now,” She pondered aloud, “And it’s really how Edward and Bella met. Funny that.”

“Yes.” He agreed, his eyes holding hers a second too long before he turned back to his paperwork. “Well,” He cleared his throat, “Best get back to business.” Almost like clockwork Edward and Bella appeared at the stairs, giggling to themselves about some inside joke.

“Yeah uh, I’ll see you around.” Y/n shot him a tentative smile. He didn’t say anything in response but his eyes were conveying an emotion she couldn’t quite comprehend. She already knew that look was going to stick with her.

“You ready to head back y/n?” Edward asked as he sidled into the kitchen. From behind him Bella shot y/n an apologetic look as if she were sorry for leaving her with Carlisle. How little she knew.

“Of course.” Y/n smiled at Edward.

“Okay, just head down to the car I’ll be down in a sec.” With one last smile at Carlisle y/n skipped a little to meet up with Bella before the pair headed downstairs. It wasn’t until they were far out the house and near the car that Bella started a conversation.

“Sorry for leaving you there.” She half-smiled.

“Don’t be.” Y/n tried not to smile too much.

“Carlisle’s lovely isn’t he?” The question caught y/n off-guard, it took her a minute to realise Bella was speaking of him as a fatherly-figure.

“Uh, yeah.” Y/n stammered, a pink flush spreading across her cheeks. Bella noticed and went to say something when she realised.

“Y/n, your book?”

“What?” Y/n was confused again before realising, looking down her lap was empty. Completely devoid of all 19th century classical text. “Shit, be back in a sec.”

And with that she was out, jumping up the house steps two at a time. When she was in the house though she slowed down again, afraid of the mere thought of falling and damaging anything within the house. As she moved through the house she became aware of somewhat raised voices.

“What game are you playing?” It was Carlisle’s voice, not angry, not anything. It was completely monotonous. It was wrong to eavesdrop but it felt like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand it was rude to eavesdrop, on the other she was already stuck behind the corner of the kitchen and had no idea how to walk into the kitchen naturally, especially since the conversation had already begun and the Cullens would know that she must’ve heard some of it.

“I’m not doing anything.” Edward’s voice was soft as well. The pair arguing without arguing.

“What you’re doing is dangerous.”

“You’re so happy for me and Bella. Every time I enter a room all I can hear it you’re praise of approval. Why can’t you let yourself be happy.”

“Edward-”

“I’m being serious.”

“I don’t need this right now I’ve got paperwork.”

“If we were to live life your way you’d quite literally be doing paperwork for eternity.”

“The smell Edward. Even I have only so much restraint.” Whatever she was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. Y/n was brutally offended. Surely, surely he wasn’t talking about her. Mortified, y/n tugged her shirt to her nose and inhaled deeply. It smelt like her mother’s washing detergent and y/n’s cheap perfume from Christmas. The statement had knocked her so off balance she wasn’t quite aware of Edward stalking in her direction. Hurriedly, she paced down three steps before walking up them as if it were the first time.

“Y/n.” Edward exclaimed loud enough for Carlisle to hear. Y/n looked at him, trying to mask whatever emotion she was feeling.

“Sorry. I forgot the book.” She smiled, hoping her eyes didn’t give her away. Edward said nothing, just disappeared and returned with the Hardy, gently passing it to her before leading her downstairs. Did he know she was listening?

The drive home was silent.

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[ladylynse]

Chapter 6 [FFN | AO3] of Forewarning

All Dipper knew was that there was something buried in some special thermos behind the shack; all Danny knew was that he had no idea how he'd gotten here.

Based off this artwork by @hashtag-art. Happy birthday, @bibliophilea!

(beginning | previous)

-|-

Once safely back at the Mystery Shack, Wendy turned off the golf cart and grabbed her supplies from the rack in the back. It had been a bumpy ride, but she’d only needed to sacrifice one bag of marshmallows to the forest. That wasn’t bad, considering how many creatures she was fairly sure lived there.

And, fine, maybe it made her a little paranoid to think that some of the bumps she’d hit had been deliberate, a growth of tree roots just so or deep holes suspiciously covered with leaf litter, but it wasn’t like she voiced her thoughts to anyone else.

Besides, whatever lived in the forest seemed happy with the occasional sacrifice of candy. At the very least, she’d never been stopped by something yet, and she took a lot of shortcuts through here by herself. That wasn’t exactly recommended, even for those who knew the territory well. When her family went out for apocalypse training, they were supposed to pair off. They didn’t always, but they did more often than not.

It’s easier to survive if there’s someone you trust around to watch your back, but you have to know how to fight if there isn’t.

Whatever had stopped by the Mystery Shack wasn’t bringing the apocalypse with it—she was pretty sure about that—but she didn’t want this to turn into that. Taking the twins to see the haunted grocery store? Sure. She still hadn’t been sure they’d actually see ghosts despite the stories—no one had been until it had happened—but that was different. That was contained. That was very much not in the Mystery Shack. Where the kids slept. With only the oblivious skeptic Stan around to fight the things that went bump in the night.

Now, if those things were corporeal, she wouldn’t be concerned. The man knew how to punch, and he’d punch before asking questions. But whatever had turned up this time clearly had the option to not be corporeal. Like a ghost.

She remembered the footprints appearing in the scattered baking soda a split second before the boy who’d visited earlier appeared. The same boy who had flashed a careless grin and flipped through postcards and keychains and magnets in the gift shop before taking a tour with Mabel.

Whatever he was, he wasn’t a ghost, but he was entirely too much like a ghost for comfort.

There was no sign of Stan yet—not a surprise; she hadn’t heard his car—but chances were good he wasn’t far behind her.

She saw Soos walking in from the lane and raised her hand in a wave. He spotted her and held a finger to his lips before pointing, and something cold and heavy settled in her gut as she spotted three figures by the woodshed: Mabel, Dipper, and the not-a-ghost boy who’d called himself Danny.

She cursed under her breath as she hurried to meet Soos. “That’s him,” she hissed. “We need to get him away from the twins.”

“Did you find anything in town that we can use?”

“I bought a couple more boxes of salt.” Silver was expensive—too expensive for her, anyway—and she wasn’t exactly guaranteed to find holy water even if she tried breaking into a church, mostly because she didn’t know where she’d look for it. She could’ve bought a cast iron frying pan, but she might as well grab one from the kitchen. The ideas of what they might be able to do had quickly fallen apart when she’d realized what was actually feasible. “It’s better than nothing.”

“What about garlic?”

“For a ghost?”

“You said he wasn’t a ghost.”

“Close enough to a ghost. And, anyway, there should be some in the kitchen. We can always chop up a couple of cloves and see if it does anything.” If it didn’t, and they didn’t waste it, they could always throw it into hamburger meat or make garlic bread. “How long has he been here? The kid?”

“Just a couple of minutes,” Soos allowed, “but this isn’t the first time the kids have met him.”

Wendy closed her eyes. “I know, I just…. I’d hoped they wouldn’t realize he wasn’t normal.” More to the point, she’d hoped that he wouldn’t come back. What the hell did he want, anyway? Sure, he’d said something about fixing whatever was wrong, but their ideas about what needed fixing weren’t likely the same.

“They might not. He was pretending to be normal when he talked to me.”

“He talked to you?”

“Just to ask after Dipper and Mabel.”

Wendy frowned. Soos didn’t sound too optimistic that Mabel and Dipper wouldn’t realize there was something weird about the kid, and frankly, she thought he was right. Mabel might be more forgiving, but Dipper…. “We’ll play it cool. Keep doing whatever you were doing. Try to keep an eye on them without being too obvious about it. I’ll prepare the fire pit.”

“The wood, campfire forks, hot dogs, marshmallows—?”

His gaze had wandered pointedly down to the box of salt pressing against the white plastic bag she carried, its blue label clearly visible. “Yeah. I won’t ring it thickly enough that it’s noticeable, especially since it’ll have to be in the gravel where nothing’s growing anyway, but if he’s going to pretend to be normal, then we’ll see how long he can keep that up.”

“And if he’s not affected by the salt?”

“We cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“And if we’re wrong and he is normal after all?”

Wendy snorted. “If he’s normal, he’s only normal for here.” She saw Soos shift uncomfortably and added, “If Stan comes back before I’m finished, give him the pitch about taking measures to ghost-proof the Mystery Shack and advertising doing that because it’s haunted. He’ll know how to get more of what we need, even if he doesn’t think it’ll do anything.”

“What if he’s not bad? The kid, I mean. Not everything is bad. Not everyone is bad.”

The kid had claimed he wasn’t a threat. He’d said he was stuck, that he just wanted to go home, that he had to fix something, not break it. What if it hadn’t been a lie? She didn’t see how his sneaking around could mean his intentions were honourable, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t missing something.

On the other hand, if he were simply determined to show a friendly face to the twins to get them to lower their guard, only to strike once he’d fooled them—

Wendy wasn’t sure if she wanted to take that risk. Having a healthy amount of suspicion now and apologizing later sounded much better to her than being overly trusting and being burned—especially if she wouldn’t be the only one caught in that fire. She and Soos had lived their entire lives here. Mabel and Dipper had not. They might not yet appreciate the degree to which not everything was as it appeared.

“You don’t need to be ready to attack,” Wendy finally said. “You just need to be ready to defend.” Soos nodded, maybe thinking her words were for both of them, but they weren’t. She had no intentions of simply being ready to defend. She wasn’t about to attack unprovoked, but if this kid did anything that set off alarm bells for her, she’d act on her gut. She trusted her gut more than her head. It was reliable in these sorts of situations.

The trouble was, her gut should have made a call on this already. Instead, she was still conflicted, and more time to mull it over on her trip into town hadn’t helped. Part of her still wanted to take the kid’s words at face value, but the little she’d seen of what he could do backed up the part of her that insisted he was far too dangerous to blindly trust. Soos wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but there was so much that could seem innocuous at first….

The knowledge that Soos was right and they had no idea if salt would actually help defend them didn’t make this any easier—especially when Danny was clearly interested in Mabel and Dipper. Soos had mentioned Dipper having a book, and she remembered seeing glimpses of it before. If that’s what the kid was interested in, how was she supposed to help Dipper and Mabel protect it while still protecting them?

Salt first. Purifying fire and questions later, if the kid decided to stick around for it. As long as he wasn’t hurting her friends, she was willing to give him a shovel and see how deep he dug.

XXXXXXX

Danny didn’t see the journal around, but Dipper apparently didn’t need it to draw his magic circle thing in the dirt. To be fair, Danny didn’t know if it was the same one as before, but he also didn’t want to find out. Which meant taking the initiative and trying to explain before they decided to pull more magic stuff on him.

“Please don’t do whatever you’re planning on doing,” he said, keeping his voice low in the hope that the guy he’d been talking to earlier wouldn’t hear it. “I just want to talk, I swear.”

“Are you ready to explain now?”

That was Dipper, with a bite in his voice that reminded Danny a bit of Valerie. Dipper might not sound even half as malicious as Valerie could when she was spitting curses at Phantom, but he was appropriately wary. “Yeah. But you have to promise you won’t try any magic stuff.”

“No. You’re not defenseless, and I’m not swearing away my ability to protect anyone.”

Oh. Right. He might think that particular promise carried more weight than a regular promise. He seemed to think giving his word would make it impossible to break. Danny didn’t know of any ghosts with that power, and frankly he didn’t want to meet one who had it. “You don’t have to. I just…. I promise I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else. I only want to talk. And not, y’know, risk being exorcised if you don’t believe me.”

Mabel looked from Danny to her brother and raised an eyebrow. He scowled at her but said, “Fine. If you don’t do anything except tell us the truth right now, I won’t try to exorcise you.”

Not ideal, but it wasn’t like Danny was planning on lying through his teeth to them, anyway—or that he couldn’t still attempt a lie if he felt he needed to. He had a feeling it wouldn’t work, though. He hadn’t had a whole lot of luck earlier. Maybe seeing through that thing was a kind of survival instinct around here, just like Secret Lab Guy had said.

Come to that, though— How had he had an entire conversation with someone, spilled half his life story to that someone, and not actually gotten their name?

Whatever. He’d ask later if he didn’t figure it out before then. It just proved the point, though. These people were good. Sharper than he was used to, unless almost everyone in Amity Park had already figured out his secret and was just being nice and waiting for him to make some kind of grand announcement.

Yeah, right. If Amity Park’s continued obliviousness wasn’t natural, then Vlad had done something. Not something Danny would thank him for, exactly, but something he wouldn’t fault him for, either.

“Thanks. Can I sit?” There weren’t chairs. There weren’t even logs. Dipper would be able to tell that he was staring at the circle drawn in the dirt, though, and know the question for what it was.

Mabel reached out one foot and drew a line through it with the toe of her shoe. “Yup!” she said, dropping down in place. “Pull up some grass.”

Dipper glared at her as Danny sat down on a patch that was more gravel than grass, but the other boy didn’t say anything; he just settled down and looked like he’d be ready to grab the axe beside him at a moment’s notice. Danny didn’t really want to find out if he knew how to use it. Then again, going by the assorted sizes of split logs nearby, he wasn’t overly skilled; even if it wasn’t a normal axe that Danny could avoid with intangibility, there was a good chance that Dipper was clumsy enough with it that he’d be easy enough to avoid.

“I’m sorry about not being entirely straight with you earlier when I said I would be.” Danny didn’t know where to begin, but an apology seemed smart when he still wanted their help.

“Which time, Phantom?”

Well, at least there wasn’t any lingering doubt. Danny sucked in a breath and let it out slowly to give himself a bit of time to think. Mabel looked ready to listen, but Dipper…. He still wasn’t sure about Dipper. “This isn’t exactly something I tend to tell strangers,” Danny said slowly, “but you’re right. I’m Phantom. I’m the one you let out of the thermos.”

Dipper was still practicing his glare, but Mabel asked, “So what are you? You’re not a ghost. We’ve seen ghosts.”

“I’m still a ghost,” Danny said, since as far as he knew, that was true. “Just…part ghost. Part human.” He rubbed the back of his neck and offered them a smile. “Remember when I joked about being the poster boy for interdimensional safety?”

“You expect us to believe you were in some sort of accident,” Dipper said flatly.

They didn’t need to know all the details, but— “Yeah. Lab accident. It didn’t kill me, or at least I don’t think it did, but I did get ghost powers, so that’s cool. Not something I’d recommend to anyone, but cool.”

Okay, Dipper definitely didn’t believe that, but Mabel nodded as if Danny had said something normal and not what probably sounded insane. “Why were you in the thermos?”

“Clockwork, I think. He’s the one who gave me the message to warn you in the first place, remember? Also the one who likes to pretend he doesn’t interfere but interferes like this. I thought it was Vlad, until I…until I realized how long it had been. And, no, before you ask, I don’t know who wrote that journal. I wasn’t lying about that. The only important bit I lied about was ‘Danny Fenton’ being a friend.”

“Why fess up now?” Dipper’s question was a challenge, sure, but Danny could hear the genuine curiosity behind it. Chance were, he wasn’t a great liar, either.

“Because I might need your help to get home. Especially if that help involves you trusting me enough to let me help you and you not trying to kill me first.”

“What were you looking for earlier?” Danny blinked, trying to figure out what that meant, and Dipper must have read that confusion on his face because he elaborated, “Mabel heard you. We know you were back before you showed yourself now.”

Right. She had been in the gift shop area, hadn’t she? “I was trying to find some clue about what else I’m supposed to do here.”

“And?”

That meant did you find it? Danny might’ve promised them the truth, but he’d also promised the other guy that he wouldn’t blow that secret, either. More or less. Hopefully that wasn’t what he was supposed to do here? “There’s something weird about this place,” he said instead. “It’s got this…feeling. I don’t know how to describe it.” It was something unnerving, like the feeling the Fright Knight could give you, but with more…. More I’m-watching-you vibes. Vlad times a hundred. If he didn’t need to stick around to get home, he’d be gone by now. Whatever Clockwork was trying to warn these guys away from, it felt like a danger on par with Pariah Dark.

Not that he’d be able to explain that to them.

Mabel reached over to poke Dipper in the arm. “Show him the journal.”

That would make things a lot easier for him. “I could tell you what it has wrong about ghosts. Or at least about me,” he offered. He wanted to do that regardless, but if he could give them more reason to show him, well….

“It seems to be right about you,” Dipper said, “unless you want to pretend that you’ve never been affected by anything we’ve done.”

Danny blew out a breath. “Look. Being part ghost doesn’t mean I’m exempt from everything that works on ghosts. It also means that I need to be careful around hunters, including you guys. But I’m not here to fight you or steal something or whatever your book says about me. I’m the good guy, I swear.”

“The good guy. Who needs his own little dedicated section in the journal.”

“Dedicated section?” That sounded worrisome. How much info did these guys have on him? Some of it had to be accurate, but if it was just full of things he’d done as a ghost with no context, like the stealing—

“More like a paragraph,” Mabel interrupted, “and it’s not even in the same language as the rest of it.”

Wait.

“Not the same language? What language is it?”

“See for yourself,” Mabel said. She elbowed Dipper when he didn’t immediately produce the journal and offer it up and then hissed a few things in his ear for good measure, which finally seemed to convince him. He pulled the journal out from beneath the vest he’d been wearing earlier, flipped through to the right page, and turned it around to show Danny.

Danny leaned closer, but he didn’t recognize the language, either. If it was something ghosts spoke, he’d never seen it written down, but aside from Wulf, most of the ghosts he’d met spoke English. He didn’t know how many other languages they spoke, though. He’d never asked. If this was some common language he had yet to learn….

“It might be the way it’s coded,” Dipper admitted, “instead of actually being in a different language. Some passages in the journal are coded, but they’re all the same code, except for this. I haven’t had any luck cracking it.”

Danny frowned, reading the page over before Dipper could take it away. He couldn’t see anything about a thermos or anything else that would have led them to him in the first place, but there was a bit of gibberish above that section written in green ink that might be the first code—

Wait. Green ink? Everything else in here was black or blue or some kind of brown that Danny really hoped wasn’t blood. “What else is written in this colour?” he asked, pointing to the passage.

“That’s it.”

“In the entire book?” That didn’t make sense. “But…why?”

“When I find the author of the journals,” Dipper said bluntly, “that won’t be one of the first questions I ask.”

“It won’t even be one of the first hundred,” Mabel added. “Dipper’s never understood the importance of colour.”

To be fair, it wasn’t typically high on Danny’s list of priorities, either, but this colour thing was definitely strange. How many other weird things were in that book if this didn’t make the list?

“Does it mean something to you?” Mabel asked.

Danny hesitated. The fact that it happened to be the same colour as his eyes—or his ectoplasm—in ghost mode could be a coincidence, but things tended to be a lot less coincidental when Clockwork was involved. Danny wasn’t really ready to bet that whoever had written this journal had simply run out of every other colour of pen that day. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but only in that it might point toward me.” Or another ghost like him. Hopefully not Danielle.

“So do you know who wrote it?” she prompted.

He shook his head. “I don’t know the handwriting. That’s not saying much, though. There are a lot of people—and ghosts—I know whose handwriting I’d never recognize.” He wasn’t even sure he’d recognize the Ghost Writer’s handwriting. “What does the other part say about me?”

“That something was stuck in a thermos behind the shack,” Mabel answered immediately, ignoring her brother’s glare. “Which it was.”

“It’s a Fenton Thermos, something specifically designed to contain ghosts. My parents build them.” If he wasn’t trying to keep his secret anymore, there was no harm in admitting that. “They’re paranormal scientists and inventors.”

“Like the author of the journal is,” Mabel said, shooting Dipper a pointed look. “That must be why the bit about the thermos is in there.”

“Not— I mean, I’m not thirty years old. Seriously. Do I look that old to you? I just turned fifteen last week.” Well. Last week for him. Not for whenever this was, five years in his future. “Me being in the thermos is Clockwork’s fault.” Probably. Except Clockwork wouldn’t have needed to catch him in a thermos to force him back here; he could’ve simply asked and called in a favour if Danny had complained, which he would’ve. More likely, Clockwork had merely taken advantage of someone else capturing him in a thermos, and that list of possibilities was long—and included more than one ally, even when the capturing was intentional.

“I don’t know all the details, okay? I just…. I haven’t met a ghost besides Clockwork that messes with time.” His evil future self didn’t count, not when Clockwork’s power had still been the vehicle for everything he’d done.

…Danny really hoped this had nothing to do with him. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t appreciate the thermos parallels.

Of course, now that he thought about it, the fact that he’d been stuck in a thermos had to be deliberate. Sure, it was a way to skirt the notice of the Observants, but Clockwork had messed with the timeline before without doing anything sneaky like that. If the thermos was important…. Coupled with the fact that there was a portal being built beneath a place called the Mystery Shack….

“That’s why I’m here.”

“You care to share with the class?” Dipper asked.

“The thermos, the portal—”

“What portal?”

Oops. “The, y’know, whatever, it doesn’t matter, the point is, you said the author of the journals was a paranormal scientist? Maybe an inventor, too?”

“No, no, don’t change the subject. What portal?”

“Like a portal to another dimension?” Mabel queried. “Is that why you talked about interdimensional safety earlier?”

Oh, crud. They weren’t going to let his slip about the portal go. So much for that secret. “Just…never mind that right now. Paranormal scientist. Inventor. Like my parents. He probably didn’t know them, it would’ve been too early on for them to have made a name for themselves, they might not even have been together yet, but…. Okay. This is gonna sound crazy—”

“Crazier than everything else you’ve said?” Dipper asked dryly.

“—but just go with me on this. Please. I know what happened when my parents messed stuff up, and—”

“And you’re warning us so we’re prepared and more careful,” Mabel finished. “So I don’t get impatient and Dipper doesn’t get complacent.”

Danny frowned. “What?”

“Your warning,” she repeated. “You’re not trying to get us to stop what we’re doing. It’s a terrible warning for that. That kind of thing just makes you wanna do it more, whatever it is. So you’re actually warning us to be more careful than you think we would be otherwise.”

Danny opened his mouth to tell her that warning someone not to do something obviously meant they shouldn’t do it, and then he remembered all the times his parents had warned him not to touch stuff in the lab.

Right.

Maybe she wasn’t wrong.

Just because that was what a warning meant, didn’t mean it would always have the desired effect.

Moreover, Clockwork would know exactly what to have Danny say to get the desired effect.

He’d thought he’d come to help with the portal, but he still didn’t know the blueprints of his parents’ portal as well as Tucker did. If this were just about helping them build or fix the portal in the basement without bad consequences, Tucker was a better choice than he was, and Clockwork could most definitely have arranged that.

But Danny had joked about being the poster boy for interdimensional safety, and he could still disassemble and reassemble most of his parents’ weapons in order to tweak them, even if he wasn’t as good at it as Tucker, and he’d be an idiot to keep ignoring the fact that Clockwork had made sure he had a thermos here.

The thermos wasn’t for him. It had never been for him. It had contained him, sure, but Clockwork must’ve made sure he was stuck in one so that he’d think of this. So that he’d think of what they’d done with his evil future self. And so he’d have it when he needed it.

There was a portal in a secret lab in the basement of the Mystery Shack, and the thermos written about in Dipper’s journal was for whatever was coming out of it.

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