#it was meant to be a quick list and then i got carried away as usual

[songofwizardry]

things i liked in 2024

for the past few years, i've kept a running list in my notes app of media i really enjoyed over the course of the year, and last year i finally wrote it up properly and put it on tumblr, which was fun! so we're doing that again. with some vague categories, and links where possible, here we go—my 2024 media list:

words (prose, poetry, etc—book links go to storygraph):

non-essential work by Omar Sakr [poetry collection]: i did not read as much poetry as i wanted to this year, but i discovered Omar Sakr online and his work just hit me very hard. my favourite is probably on finding the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) in Dante's Inferno.

the gardener's hand series by Felicia Davin [prose, fantasy trilogy]: i read a lot more books this year, and i'm very happy about that! i absolutely adored this series. i started it on a recommendation from a friend (thank you @everyoneinspaceisgay), and not only was it extremely readable, i loved the worldbuilding and the magic in particular, our main characters are so compelling, and it's just a really queer series. not just in the 'oh there's a gay relationship at the centre of this', it is very very queer. loved it. can't believe i haven't heard more about it tbh.

the adventures of amina al-sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty [prose, fantasy]: i knew i was going to love this book, because i adored the daevabad books, but god, this was good. amina is such a good protagonist, there were djinns and magic and high sea hijinks, and while a decent chunk of the reason i loved daevabad was because seeing a fantasy world filled with the islamic mythology and folklore that i grew up with made me really happy and excited, this hit that even more—amina sails the indian ocean, and that's my coastline! i grew up on the Swahili coast, my community's immigration history is shaped by the indian ocean, and i had no idea before i read the book that the indian ocean and its coastlines and trade routes would form such a major part of the story. it was excellent. i got very excited at multiple points. you should read it.

paris daillencourt is about to crumble by Alexis Hall [prose, romance]: my partner is a connoisseur of queer romance. she recommends to me a lot of queer romance, but this one has maybe been my favourite. idk what it was about it—the birmingham references, the joy that was the love interest Tariq, the intense quotability of it all (i have so many screenshots, particularly of quotes from Tanya, who is a secondary school science teacher and who was just extremely relatable to me), the nostalgia it gave me (they're disastrous just-about-twenty-year-old gays and one of them lives in, i quote, 'a house with four other students in birmingham with one bathroom and rising damp', it took me back to 2016 in a very vivid way tbh), it was just great. if you need a gay romance, you should read this one.

honourable mentions go to the two t kingfisher books i read this year (nettle and bone and a house with good bones, both excellent and creepy in a wonderful way) and bury your gays by chuck tingle, which was the perfect thing to read in the depths of summer.

video (ish):

we built a TUBE MAP out of LEGO with working trains! by Geoff Marshall [youtube video]: i don't know how to describe this other than this is a delightful bit of nerdery. so much nerdery. the lego is great, the little trains are incredible, but it's the work that goes into it and the justifications about which lines should be above and below the others that make this video incredible.

bingo - game changer season 6 episode 5 [video, dropout exclusive]: game changer just... keeps doing wild and weird and wonderful things with their format, and i don't know how they keep doing it but they do and i'm having way too much of a good time here. it was really hard to pick one episode from the most recent season to go with. this could easily have been a recommendation for deja vu or beat the buzzer instead. i guess what i'm trying to do is recommend the whole season. anyway, i loved bingo because it did something that got me into game changer to begin with—set up what feels like an innocuous game, so you know there's a twist coming, and slowly, layer by layer, reveal the twist. except this one goes places. it reminded me of some of my game changer favourites (tell us about yourself, lie detector) except boy does it take things to a wholly ridiculous level. sam reich, never stop please.

chris grace: as scarlett johansson [video, dropout exclusive]: (link goes to youtube clip from the show, which is sorta... spoilery?) i don't even know how to describe this. it's a stand-up special about racism, it's about scarlett johansson, it's a one man show, it does some absolutely incredible things with its form and format and works with the medium of dropout presents so well, it made me cry and also left me a little shell-shocked in places, it's funny, it's... look, it's a lot and it's really fucking good. i tried looking for a solid review of it to try and explain what it's like, but i didn't succeed. i think you just gotta watch this one to understand it.

rogue - doctor who season 14 episode 6 [tv show episode] - the most recent season of doctor who has just been... fun, okay. like, i think doctor who is at its best when it is not taking itself too seriously and it's a bit ridiculous and also ridiculously heartfelt. this episode was basically made for me. historical shenanigans! aliens with very specific abilities! d&d references!!! (was not expecting that and got SO excited by it.) the doctor getting overly attached to someone and then losing them promptly! emotional high stakes! banter! a+ work all around. i'm told the bridgerton gays loved it as well (my only reference for this is my partner). it was great. this is what doctor who is about, folks.

the importance of being earnest - national theatre revival [theatre]: ("salmon, this isn't video no matter how far you stretch the definition of video." look, i'm aware. idk where else to put it though, and also, it's going to be in cinemas in february and then it will be video, so i'm just ahead of the times. go with the flow.) i keep saying it feels like i've waited fifteen years to watch this exact production of earnest, and i will keep saying it because it is true. i will write up a better post about it sometime soon (promise), but this was so much fun—it was incredibly camp, it starts off with a drag interlude, it's unabashadely gay and also incredibly pretty (the sets were amazing), and it just felt like a love letter both to the text of the play and to the spirit behind it, yknow? i had an absolutely amazing time watching it, and it's one of my favourite things i've experienced this year. when it's in cinemas, you should watch it if you can.

honourable mentions go to: heartstopper season 3, for pulling absolutely zero punches this season, making me feel extremely nostalgic and a bit old, and for the side-characters of the two gay teachers that i have gotten way too fond of; the good place, which i had obviously watched all of as it aired but that i rewatched with my partner this year, and the ending is still so so so good; and to the nein hells (critical role c3 e111), which was an absolute fucking riot—chaotic and hilarious and still heartfelt, and a very good summation of why i love this ridiculous d&d show.

audio (briefly, because this list has gotten very long and out of hand):

this year i started listening to let's learn everything, which is a truly delightful sci-comm podcast (that i discovered via hearing the cast on Tom Scott's lateral). all their episodes are great commute listens (and remind me to have enthusiasm about science when i am tired which is helpful when my job is... yknow teaching science and being enthusiastic about it), but i particularly enjoyed the episode that has interviews from the Ig Nobel ceremony and the episode about epigenetics and the World Games.

i also kept listening to if books could kill which does a great job of tearing to shreds terrible airport books. i don't have any specific episode recs from this year, but if you've never listened to them before, the episode on the secret is a good place to start!

ok, this has gotten a lot longer than i intended, so i'll stop there. if you've read this far, thanks for coming on this journey with me! i've enjoyed making these lists. 2024 was really wonderful in some ways and... relentless and exhausting and very difficult in other ways. i'm hoping for a bit more time and a bit less exhaustion in 2025, and i'm going to try to keep up my reading, to write a bit more, and to hopefully watch more actual play stuff, because i really didn't watch as much of it as i wanted to this year.

let's see what 2025 brings—new critical role stuff? another season of game changer that will blow my mind again? (definitely.) more doctor who? an alecto the ninth announcement? (if we are very lucky maybe.) we shall see! happy new year, folks!

[shyamanuensis]

dad!headcanons - hl boys

because i'm hormonal and maternal at the moment and feel like subjecting you all to the crack inside my head.

𝕕𝕒𝕕!𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕙

★ dad!garreth who wanted a massive family because chaos and mayhem are what he's use to but has somehow found himself second guessing his taunts of 'how about one more to add to the bunch' with all 5 kids being girls. he thought 'eh girls - they're easy'; WRONG! he's never been driven this mad in his life but secretly adores every second of it.

★ dad!garreth who has perfected the art of braiding hair and listening as if his life depends on it to all the drama your daughters rambling on about 24/7. who's dating whom at hogwarts - who got caught by a professor in the broom cupboard - the cute boy who made the quidditch team - how professor ronen is still teaching and isn't fair on his grades. he loves the small talk; but it does get confusing keeping up.

★ can we take a moment to appreciate the way dad!garreth handles the fact all the members of his household have gone through or are experiencing the discomforts of becoming young women? the screaming, the crying, the insecurities, the hormones. for a week each month his wage goes directly to chocolate, tissues and tampons; maybe not always in that order but nonetheless, it's a shopping trip he's become accustomed to making.

★living under a roof with 6 women was probably a teenage dream for dad!garreth but no… he appreciates his time away from the madness that is the weasley household. he's never out for more than a single drink though and irrespective of how old his little girls are, he's always at home by 8 to tuck the youngest into bed and give the oldest a peptalk about how anyone with the last name sallow isn't good enough for them (much to your humour and dismay).

★ summers in the weasley household when the children were younger were often spent outdoors from dawn until dusk and dad!garreth makes a point of keeping every single daisy chain crown his daughters have made him over the years; pressing them in his office between old textbooks he never opened during his time at hogwarts to keep them as memories.

𝕕𝕒𝕕!𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕤

★ dad!ominis who was reluctant to start a family at first not wanting to pass down his insecurities or imperfections however is smitten over how delicate yet ambitious his twin girls are. their feistiness definitely comes from their mother; their sarcasm their father.

★ dad!ominis that makes sure he takes time off work and makes arrangements as required to attend every single 'parent/child' school day - not so he can brag but so his daughters can brag about him and how wonderful they think he is. he'd be lying if he didn't get a kick out of it. parents needed as volunteers for fieldtrips - his name is on the list. every - single - time.

★ it took a year of solid practice for hours on a saturday and for 15 minutes or so each night after school but dad!ominis was able to teach both girls how to play piano by the age of 6. patience his absolute virtue - plus it meant that you got time to yourself too. the girls however, have a habit of playing dramatic classics whenever you have a headache or are just not in the mood and he smirks; aloof to the behaviour whenever you question him.

★ strict? yeah dad!ominis likes to think he rules with an iron fist but that is absolutely not the case. he's the first to bend and break at any demand you or your daughters make. "daddy, read to me?" - he's sitting on the bed with them until they fall asleep to the sound of his voice. "daddy! you said i could have xyz!" - somehow he's found himself carrying around a bag of shopping and a lighter wallet.

★ as with garreth - dad!ominis is quick to remind his girls that any of the sallow boys are not worth their time. he could barely handle sebastian as a friend let alone does he want him as an in-law. although it is no secret that you're aware of one of the twins dating the eldest sallow boy you've kept that news under wraps, unsure of when to break it to him.

𝕕𝕒𝕕!𝕤𝕖𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕟

★ dad!sebastian who views parenting as not only the greatest gift in the world but a chance for him to relive some of his childhood now that he has 3 boys of his own - and no, your genetics clearly failed to turn up to the party because your sons are all spitting images of their father.

★ dad!sebastian who has no care for curfews or rules - boys will be boys in his eyes and this behaviour can range from rough housing in the kitchen and breaking your wedding crockery to staying up until the early hours of the morning assiting him with research and usually stealing a sip of whiskey when the kids think he's not looking. "but they need sleep sebastian!" no… according to him their body clocks will settle when they need to; as will their behaviour.

★ the amount of heart attacks dad!sebastian has managed to give you swinging off of trees or climbing into ruins with your sons you've lost count of. it's almost expected behaviour now for the 4 men of the sallow household to make your heart race - a sweat wash your skin at the start of every morning wondering what on earth they could get up to next but you're just grateful he hasn't managed to end up in hospital or have himself arrested.

★ the boys need something? dad!sebastian default response is "ask your mother". will he ever come off as the bad guy - not unless he really has to. you can count on one hand the times he's had to discipline his sons and rather than traditional oldschool tactics, sebastian is far more fond of empty threats like 'don't make me tell you the story of how you were conceived' or 'play up and i'll make sure you have a baby sister.'

★ aware of his charm that his sons have clearly inherited, dad!sebastian is more than happy to prod and poke fun at both garreth and ominis about how their daughters would one day carry the last name sallow. although the taunts are often received with rolled eyes and in jest, he's very aware that his eldest boy and one of ominis daughters often sneak away together when the families get together and you have to near beg him every single time not to open his mouth knowing that ominis wouldn't handle it.

★★★ leander, amit and others to follow.

[purinfelix]

can i request hot cocoa + let you break my heart again + franco colapinto

perhaps the both of them are at some kind of gala/event/party for f1 with a mix of yearning maybe some mutual pining 🙈

one day ⊹ �� ˖ - franco colapinto

w/c: 800 a/n: UGH this idea was just sooo scrumptious i loved writing it sm (and maybe got a bit carried away since this was supposed to be a blurb) BUT thanks bff hope u like <3333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

Stuffy formal events were something you thought you'd escaped by choosing a career in motorsport.

Little did you know, becoming an F1 driver meant signing up for a lifetime of them - a fact you were sourly reminded of when the annual gala rolled around, and despite it being your first, proved awful every step of the way. Somewhere in between the pretentiously tiny portion sizes and long, boring speeches, you found yourself growing more restless, desperate for an escape.

That's how you ended up here - leaving the toilet cubicle that had been your safe haven for the last half an hour, following a less-than-kind text from your pr manager demanding your return. As you washed your hands, your eyes glazed over your reflection in the ornate bathroom mirror. A small smile perked at the side of your mouth, satisfied with the job your stylist had done - even if the outfit she had chosen was suffocatingly tight and only added to your long list of nightly grievances.

Leaving the bathroom, you took in a deep breath, mentally preparing to sit through several more insufferable hours of this event.

"I was wondering where you went," came a voice from the other side of the hall, emerging from the men's bathroom. Looking up you locked onto a pair of green eyes, a coy expression on his face.

"Didn't think you'd notice in between all your flirting, Franco," you spat, though you couldn't stop yourself from offering a sly smile. You feel his eyes run over you, trying to maintain your composure as you feel your cheeks heat up under the weight of his gaze.

"You look good," he lets out, a little softly, almost like a confession. You're tempted to reply back with something snappy, though you stop yourself.

"You too." And you're not lying. In a black suit, cleanly pressed and fitted, he looks almost unrecognisable from the normal race weekend outfit. Though his deep brown curls, which you can tell his stylist has tried their best to tame, still fall carefreely onto his forehead.

He brushes a couple away as he lets out a shy laugh. "Well, it seemed a good time to clean up, hm?"

There's a moment of silence that seems to indicate that the two of you should return back to the event - but you don't. Neither of you move, just standing there looking at each other, almost daring the other to say something else. It's unlike the two of you since usually any space between you is filled with snarky comments and quick insults - the result of being two rookies from opposite teams, fighting to make a name for yourselves.

But sometimes you wish it weren't. Sometimes, in between the snide remarks and menacing stares, you think about how maybe if fate had favoured you just a little more, Franco might've been your teammate. And maybe, just maybe, you might've gotten along.

Though being 'rivals' meant being similar, even if you refused to admit it, and knowing each other deeply - on a level that being friends wouldn't come close to.

He reminds you of this fact when he pipes up again, hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. "I really don't want to go back in there," he confesses.

"Me neither," you sigh in agreeance, relieved he feels the same.

"It's just so-"

"Stuffy."

"Yes, exactly!" he replies, a thankful smile on his face, "plus, I feel like this tie is trying to strangle me."

"But I guess we have to go back, my media manager is going to be looking for me."

"Right," he says, looking down, "unless."

You quirk an eyebrow, intrigued at what he's implying. "Surely not."

"What are the chances of us actually being needed tonight, we're two rookies, it's not like they're going to give us any awards."

"You really haven't been listening in those media training lessons of yours, hm?"

"Oh, because you care so much about my image," he laughs, "c'mon let's get out of here, do something else, something that isn't so mind-numbingly boring." As he speaks, he brings a hand to his neck, loosening his tie, and you suck in a sharp breath as you watch him.

"Franco," you say softly, almost begging him not to make you make this decision.

"Fine, if you want to head back in there, be my guest, but I'm going." He turns around, giving you one last look, almost daring you to follow him with one eyebrow raised and the corner of his lips quirked up.

As he does you're struck by the feeling that maybe one day the two of you won't be posed as rivals, that maybe you might truly get along.

That maybe one day he won't have such a strong effect on you, that the way he looks at you won't make your heart flutter and brain stop as much as it does now.

But today isn't that day.

"Franco, wait," you call out, jogging up to him and letting out a defeated sigh, "where should we go?"

"Anywhere you want," he replies, looking at you with a smug yet endeared smile - almost as if he knew you'd join him all along.

taglist: @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[jexnkookie]

BTS: In the Secret (Idol! Jungkook x Reader) [Chapter 5]

Summary: Big Hit announces a new season of In the Soop with a twist; one lucky Army is going to join the members for an entire summer of filming, picked by a random poll. You were selected, and ready to have an amazing summer. But what happens when you win something else that's a bit more complicated; the heart of the group's maknae?

Rating: M (18+)

Chapter Warnings: None.

Tag List: @cassies-cookies @hoeinthehouse @jjeonjjk7 @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @leetha43 @rrosiitas @whoa-jo @1-in-abillion 

While you were sleeping, Jungkook did what he did best when he needed to clear his head; he boxed. After slipping on his gloves and getting into position, he let it all out on a punching bag. Again, his thoughts settled on you; how you felt in his arms, how you gazed at his lips like he gazed at yours, giving him a glimmer of hope that just maybe you wanted to kiss him, too. He needed to get you alone again, and away from the cameras. 

It was something he had thought about while working out. All the cameras on the property were filming every move the members made. Of course, that’s what everyone signed up for. No surprise there. But that means everything will be up to view soon, and Jungkook didn’t know what would be aired, and what wouldn’t. Would their short-lived game of truth or dare, where you gave Taehyung a quick kiss, be seen by fans? Or your movie day together? What about him carrying you to bed? He hoped not, knowing how some fans react to just a dating rumor. He didn’t want you to be on the receiving end of one of those storms. Whatever heat he got, he could take it, and would take it, if it meant protecting you. 

So he continued thinking; how can he get you away from the other members, and away from the cameras, to have privacy with you? How can he keep this a secret, while still properly confessing? A grin came to his face as he hatched an idea, but he’d need a little time to think through the details. That wouldn’t be now, however, as you walked into the door of the gym. 

“Hey.” You greeted him with a wave. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep. That was so embarrassing, and I feel awful.” 

“Don’t, it’s ok.” He said, his voice going soft once again, as became a habit around you. “You were tired.” 

“And um…thank you, for bringing me to my bedroom.” You blushed, walking closer to him as he had paused his workout. “That was really sweet of you.” 

“Any time.” He smiled.

Figuring out where to move the conversation to, because you didn’t want to stop talking to him, you glanced to his boxing gloves. 

“Y’know, I’ve never boxed before.” You smiled. “It looks fun, though.” 

“I can show you.” He grinned, always ready to play. Jungkook began removing his gloves, before raising his sparkling eyes to yours. “Here, put these on. They’ll probably be too big but it’ll work for now.” 

Standing very close to you, he helped you put them on, as you had never done so before. You felt as though you couldn’t breathe, and like your heart had paused in your chest. How is it even possible for someone be that beautiful? He stood tall over you, and you wanted him to put his arms around you so badly. Little did you know, he wanted to, as well. He focused solely on your gloves, but being so close to you and feeling your eyes on him made him more nervous than he’d care to admit. He wanted to lean down just enough to kiss you, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. 

Not yet. Not in front of the cameras, and not on the property. 

He had an idea, and he wanted to stick to it. 

“Ok!�� He smiled. “I’ll show you how to throw a punch, then you’ll hit me.” 

“I don’t wanna hurt you!” You laughed. 

“I really doubt you’re going to hurt me.” He teased, smirking at you. 

“We’ll see. I can be mean!” 

“I seriously doubt that.” Jungkook giggled. “Let’s get it, c’mon!” 

You threw punch after punch, while Jungkook blended teasing words with encouragement. He loved your competitiveness and playfulness, as it matched him so well. He thought to himself, as he was laughing with you, how easy it is just to be with you. Although you were a fan, that’s why you were selected, you treated him like a normal person. Someone to joke with, someone to just hang out with. He felt like he never had to try around you, and he appreciated that you didn’t seem to try hard to impress him, either. Everything just felt so natural. 

“Alright, Kookie, I’m taking you down this round.” You giggled through deep breaths, collecting yourself. 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “You’re confident?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed. “Watch.” 

With that, you went back in with a fierceness, making him smile and coo to himself, watching how you were trying so hard but still couldn’t even knock him back. Moving in closer to him, you both began laughing as it was clear that this was going nowhere for you. Jungkook “fought” back, moving forward towards you, making you back up despite your cute complaints. (“No fair, you’re bigger! I’m punching above my weight!”) Without paying too much attention, caught up in the fun you were having together, you were backed against the wall, trapped by Jungkook. 

“Fine! You win!” You laugh, throwing your head back to the wall. 

Jungkook was somehow even closer than he was before, with your body resting against the wall. While you both caught your breath, grinning over your silliness, Jungkook’s hand instinctively came up to brush strands of hair away from your face as your eyes were gazing into his. 

You stared at each other for what felt like hours, just enjoying being close. The moment felt fragile, as though if either person moved too quickly, it would shatter. 

“Hi.” He whispered, breaking the silence. 

“Hi.” 

“I…” Jungkook started without really understanding what it was he needed to say. “That was fun.” 

“Yeah.” You smiled warmly, biting your lip nervously before adding, “I like hanging out with you.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “I like hanging out with you, too.”  

And just like that, it was present again; another fragile moment. Eyes glued to each other, butterflies in his stomach, and a racing heart in your chest. Words that you both weren’t quite sure how to say, or if you should say them, lingering in the air, making the room feel heavy. The  attraction was immediate, but now the spark is glowing, as well. It was something you both knew, but didn’t understand how to approach it. 

“I, uh, think we may need a shower.” Jungkook said softly. “Before Yoongi-hyung finishes dinner.” 

“You’re probably right.” You smiled, sighing internally that the moment couldn’t last. 

“You go first. I’ll clean up here, and meet you later, ok?” 

“Ok.” You replied. You looked over his features one more time before leaving for your guesthouse. 

Jungkook was grinning uncontrollably, feeling electric from the interaction. He knew he couldn’t mess this up with you, but he needed to tell you how he felt. There was something between you two that was almost magnetic, drawing him to you in ways that felt unreal. He understood he needed to act, but it needed to be private and personal, and just right. 

He quickly reached for his phone, and looked for the answer to one question; 

How long until a lake clears after a flood? 

A week passed, and it seemed to fly by. You had discussed your favorite records with Yoongi, painted a bit with Taehyung, beaten Jin at Mario Kart (much to his dismay), and gossiped over drinks with Jimin. The latter of which you increasingly became closer with, thanking multiple glasses of wine and late night conversations for that. 

“Are you single?” Jimin asked. It was 4 a.m., and the cameras were turned off for the night, allowing you to speak more freely. 

“I am.” You responded. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t. Spending a summer with 7 men alone… I don’t think a boyfriend would appreciate that, you know? What about you?” 

“That’s true… And, me too.” He said. “The last one, I don’t know… we just didn’t work out.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s ok. It’s in the past now.” Jimin smiled kindly. “Can I ask about you?” 

“My last boyfriend?” You rolled your eyes at the memory. “I broke up with him. We just never had any fun together, you know? It grew stale very quickly, like we were stuck in this routine, and he took himself too seriously to try anything new.” 

“He doesn’t sound like your type.”

“Yeah?” You grinned at his response, pouring more wine. “What do you think my type is?” 

“I think you like someone you can have fun with.” He stated, leaning back into the couch, a mischievous look gracing his features as if holding in a secret. “I think you’d like someone who can make you laugh and who will play with you, but he can also be sensitive and take care of you.” 

“You almost sound like you have someone in mind for me.” You giggled. 

“Not really.” Jimin smiled, looking down at his glass. “Just guessing.” 

At the end of the week, Jungkook had come to your bedroom door, knocking to wake you. It was late; late enough where the cameras were turned off and the other members were sleeping. You furrowed your brow wondering who would be coming to get you at this time, and why. 

“Jungkook?” You whispered. “What are you doing?” 

“Y/N, I have a surprise for you,” He whispers, his eyes somehow dazzling in the dark. “Should you choose to accept it.” 

“You make it sound like a video game side quest, Kookie.” You giggle. “I accept. What is it?” 

“Put on some shoes, and come with me.” He responded with a boyish grin. “I have something to show you.” 

You did as you were told, and Jungkook led you though the dark to the ATV on the property. Attached to it, somehow, was a bottle from Yoongi’s whiskey stash and a blanket. You were suddenly thankful for the cover of the night, because you could feel your cheeks blushing as you gathered what he could be up to. 

“Get on, and hold on tight to me, ok?” He explained. “I found something I think you’ll like.” 

After getting onto the back of the ATV, you got comfortable and hugged him tightly from the back. Jungkook smiled at the feeling of your arms, and he hoped it was the first of many times he’d feel you wrapped around him. He took off, checking to make sure the members and the staff weren’t paying attention, and took you down the road. The drive was short, and you wondered what Jungkook could’ve possibly found, as you were in the woods. 

But as he drove up to what seemed to be a perfect, private oasis, your eyes grew wide. Tucked in a cleared spot, there was a lake with the moonlight reflecting off the cool water. It was peaceful and serene, with only the occasional sound of crickets breaking the silence. 

“It’s the lake that the staff members mentioned may flood.” Jungkook explained as he helped you off the ATV. “I wanted to bring you here for a few days, but it needed to clear first.” 

“This is so pretty.” You said.  

“Come on, let’s go sit down.” He said, carrying the blanket and the wine. 

“I feel like a teenager.” You laughed as Jungkook spread the blanket on the ground. “Sneaking out of the house late with a boy, stealing alcohol from the kitchen.” 

“We’re rebels.” Jungkook laughed. You sat next to him, and he popped open the bottle of wine. “Meaning we drink from the bottle, too…and totally not because I forgot to grab glasses.” 

“I love this.” You giggled. “Thank you for bringing me out here. This is nice.” 

“Anytime.” He replied softly. “I’ve been thinking… this could be our place, y’know? If we need to get away from the cameras, from the set, we can just come here.” 

“That sounds amazing.” You said. Jungkook looked over at you, admiring your features and how they glowed in the moonlight. “Oh, look! We can see stars so clearly here.” You laid down on the blanket, and Jungkook followed. 

“I can see… the moon.” Jungkook joked, making you laugh. “I don’t know much about stars.” 

“Tell me your zodiac, and I’ll show you where it is.” You smiled. 

You began pointing out to Jungkook where his corner of the sky was, and where yours was alongside it. While you spoke about stars, Jungkook had some of his own in his eyes, hanging on every word you said. The atmosphere of the lake, the red wine buzz you both felt, and your sweet voice right next to him made him so, unbelievably happy. You spoke about his corner of the sky, but he felt like this little place he found was meant for both of you. Your little corner of the world. 

“Hey.” He whispered, cutting you off softly. 

“Hey.” You whispered back. 

“I…” A brief pause, but unlike that day in the gym, he knew what he needed to say. “I just want to tell you, that I meant what I said. The day I met you, I said you were so pretty. It’s true… I think you’re beautiful.” 

“T-Thank you.” You stuttered, blushing profusely at his gaze and attention.  

“Can…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” 

“The day we were watching a movie, and the day we were boxing… I felt something.” Jungkook explained nervously. “I felt a.. I don’t know, a spark or something, if that makes sense. Did you… Do you…” 

“Yeah.” You smiled warmly. “Yeah, I feel it, too.” 

Once again, a fragile moment appearing. The warm, summer air feels heavy once again, and a rush of vulnerability passes through. The quiet part weighs on you both now that it’s been said out loud; he feels something for you, and you feel it to. Not love, not yet. Not enough to dive in head first. But enough to be a promise of something, or the hope of an exciting possibility. 

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asked, gazing down at your lips. You nodded your consent, and he slowly brought his hands to your waist, pulling you in closer to cuddle with him on the blanket. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, just as he had done back at the main house, but the action felt different this time. More real, knowing its intention. 

He smiled, as did you, at the tension of the moment. 

Then, he leans in, eyes closed. You closed yours as well, anticipating the touch. He lingers nearby, nerves taking over, but Jungkook wouldn’t miss his chance. His lips grazed yours, before connecting fully. Your hands came up to touch his chest softly, encouraging him to go just a bit further. So he did, deepening the kiss and savoring how your lips locked with his for the first time. 

After spending some time together, feeling high off of whatever this connection was, you both knew you needed to get back before the members and staff realized you were missing. Jungkook packed up and drove you back, but noticing the time and knowing the cameras hadn’t turned back on quite yet, he took your hand in his to walk you back to your bedroom. 

“Please get some rest, ok?” He whispered, leaning in close again, not able to get enough. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.” 

“It’s ok.” You smiled, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Y/N, listen.” He whispered, his tone more serious as he placed his hands on your hips. “I don’t want either of us to feel pressured by anyone about this… about us. I don’t want anyone jumping to their own conclusions about us before we even know for sure what we are. I just want us to spend time together, y’know? So when the cameras are on, and the members are around, let’s keep it between us.” 

“Ok.” You said, your voice a bit sad. 

“Hey, Y/N, c’mon.” Jungkook cooed, pulling you in close to hold you. “Trust me, I want everyone to know about this, but just not yet. I’m not hiding you, I’m protecting you. I promise. Please, just trust me.” 

He looked down at you, giving you a soft, slow kiss and feeling relieved when he felt your smile. 

“Goodnight.” You whispered, before turning towards the door. 

“Goodnight.” He replied. Jungkook struggled to let you go, wanting to hold you in his arms longer, now that he actually has you. 

You reached for his sweatshirt that night, wearing it to bed like you had done so many nights before. But somehow, it felt softer than ever. 

Next Chapter Coming Soon...Thank you! x

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: hannah’s avery

pairing: avery grambs x jameson hawthorne

synopsis: it’s the anniversary of hannah’s death and avery can’t admit to herself that she’s not okay

warnings: mention of death

a/n: I adored writing this!! should I do more avery x jameson?? bc this is my first fic with those two (crazy right??)

tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket

Avery Kylie Grambs doesn’t cry. It’s been something I’ve told myself my whole life. I didn’t come crashing down when problems came my way, I braved them and didn’t let them see my pain. I’ve always been a stubborn girl and nothing would stop that.

But sometimes… sometimes Hannah’s Avery cried. The little girl in her mother’s arms when the going got tough. She cried and when she did, she wasn’t weak, she had her mother’s strength to carry her through. My mom’s arms had always been a safe place, she was the only person I could crumble into and fall apart on. She allowed me to be every version of myself. Good or bad.

I hadn’t been Hannah’s Avery since the night my mom died but suddenly I found myself as Hannah’s Avery once again on a dull Monday night. And it was more bittersweet than I ever would’ve thought. I felt a sense of nostalgia, like the girl I used to know was back, the girl I love so dearly that I’d lost. But there were no arms to sob into this time. And what was Hannah’s Avery without Hannah?

I reluctantly pushed myself up off of the bed I’d been curled up on for lord knows how long, in an attempt to pull myself together. I walked the bathroom and splashed my face. The icy cold water hit every cell, sending a jolt of shock through me. I needed to stop this nonsense. I wiped my face and breath, staring at someone unrecognisable in the mirror. Hannah’s Avery was long gone, that little girl had died with her mother. Avery Kylie Grambs seemed to be gone too. So who was she? Reflected in the glass? The girl I was looking at wasn’t any version of myself. She was new.

I turned away, uncomfortable with the change, the newcomer. I walked back the bedroom, looking up at the ceiling. And as pretty as the pattern was on it, I don’t think that was why I was looking up. I slumped down on my bed and ran my fingers through my knotted hair, helplessly tugging out the tangles.

“Heiress?”

There was only one voice like his.

“Yeah?” I replied, with a feigned smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked, approaching closer, faster.

His voice was contorted with concern. Why could he tell I wasn’t okay? How could he tell? No one can ever tell. They aren’t meant to be able to tell. I silently cursed myself for not sticking on my mask well enough tonight, the cracks were beginning to appear and Jameson could see right through them.

“Fine,” I replied, not sounding fine at all.

“What’s wrong?” he was quick to ask.

“Nothing I’m fine,” I said sharply, meeting his eyes. Big mistake.

“You’ve been crying,” he barely whispered, touching my cheek gently.

His touch was so soft I shuddered and pulled away. I couldn’t afford to be vulnerable, I couldn’t afford to be manipulated by my feelings, give in so easily. I was stronger than that.

“I don’t cry,” I snapped, my voice hard, harsh, unfamiliar. I didn’t like the way it sounded, it was so unlike myself, like the girl in the mirror from earlier.

“Oh Heiress,” he said, his voice sweet like honey, “everybody cries.”

I shook my head stubbornly, so paralysed by denial I thought I could still move, “not me.”

“Come here,” he replied, sitting down on our bed and opening his arms.

“No, I’m fine,” I repeated. I could see what he was trying to do. “I don’t need comfort, I’m not upset.”

“I know,” he shrugged, “but just come here.”

I crawled into his open arms and curled up against his chest. I laid there as he traced the features of my face with a tentative fingertip. Some of my previous emotion began to subside and I began to feel better. It would leave, whatever this was. It would be gone in a minute. Or that’s what I thought. I was a naive fool. Within seconds of my optimism the left side of my chest physically ached, pulsations of jagged agony rippled through. I fumbled for the words to explain what I was feeling but my mind drew blank. I physically couldn’t. I looked up at Jameson, our eyes locked together.

“Call it,” I murmured, an unwanted tremor creeping into my voice.

“What?” he asked quietly, stroking my hair.

“Call tahiti,” I whispered, gazing into his large green eyes.

“Heiress,” he said gently, his face mellowing, “I don’t have to do that.”

He was right. He could’ve called tahiti the moment he saw my tear-stained cheeks, or sullen face but he didn’t. He waited. And even thought it was probably killing him, wracking his brain, ripping his heart from inside out, the word never came near to passing his lips.

“I want you to,” I said, sitting up, “I want you to call it.”

“Okay,” he replied slowly, almost hesitantly. Jameson Hawthorne didn’t hesitate. “Tahiti.”

I paused for what felt like hours, the words didn’t want to come out of my mouth. It was like they’d been stuck to the sides on my throat with superglue. I hadn’t ever admitted this pain out loud. I didn’t realise how deep I’d buried it.

“My mom,” I whispered, holding in a sob.

I couldn’t look into his eyes, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it together if I did that and I couldn’t afford to fall apart for the second time today. Avery Kylie Grambs doesn’t do that.

“Oh Avery,” Jameson said with softened eyes.

Not Heiress. Avery. The tenderness in his voice melted my heart and all of my insides. And with those two words I knew he immediately understood, I didn’t have to say anymore.

I loved him more than anything on this earth, I wanted him, I needed him. But needing someone and letting yourself needing someone are two very different things. But that day finally chose the latter. I fell into him, collapsing in a heap of loud, ugly sobs. I’d never felt more exposed to my own feelings, so raw with emotion.

“It hurts,” I choked, coughing up the words that I’d buried alive in my weighted heart.

“I know, but I’ve got you okay?” he comforted. I could hear his beating heart against my ear, reminding me of how lucky I was. For him, for all of this, for the life I was living. “And it won’t hurt forever,” he continued.

“What if it does?” I asked, my voice so childlike it ached.

“Then I’ll always be here to hold you,” he whispered, stroking the length of my hair softly, his fingers rhythmically weaving between strands in a calming manor.

And he was. He didn’t let go. His grip never wavered. He just held me, all of me. He held Avery Kylie Grambs, Hannah’s Avery and the Heiress. I hid my face into his chest and shed the remnants of my pain, his scent offered me comfort, his touch was warm and familiar.

“I love you Jamie,” I said into him after a while. It was so quiet I didn’t know it he’d heard me.

“I love you too Heiress,” he replied with a kiss on the top of my head. He’d heard me.

He always hears me.

a/n: thanks for reading!! hopefully I got the dynamic right?? anyways this is in honour of our lovely excerpt yesterday 🤭🤭

ALSO I am very aware that I promise PART 4 of the mysterious blonde would be the next fic up but I had this random idea and I needed to write it!! and the mysterious blonde pt4 is a much longer fic than this one…

[leviscolwill]

moonlight, sunrise

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: after trent's first time captaining his boyhood club, you can't help showing him your appreciation [wc: ~700]

contents: tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, captain trent ‼️, food mention, not proofread yet 🏃‍♀️

note: needed to write a little something for my boy <3

now playing: moonlight sunrise by twice (ready to be)

you were absolutely stoked when darwin scored a late goal for your team, winning newcastle 2-1. during all the game, your thoughts went to your boyfriend, who captained his team after van dijk got red carded. you knew how much his boyhood club meant to him and how much he adored it, so being vice captain was a huge honour. after the final whistle, you grabbed your phone to send him a quick text; "congrats on today's win my captain !! can't wait to celebrate with you tonight xx". you knew he wouldn't answer right away so you got up to prepare trent's surprise.

you put on your favourite playlist, and searched for everything you needed to make some pizzas, from the dough to the toppings, you had everything you needed. trent loved your pizzas, you weren't the best cook around but it was the one dish you could never miss.

you tried shaping the dough into little hearts, colouring them with bright red tomato sauce. your addiction to 'good pizza great pizza' helped you create the best pizza with trent's favourite toppings.

while you were finishing the last couple mini pizzas, you felt someone hug you from behind.

"they look so good, you really outdone yourself with these." you heard trent's voice in your ears.

"no ! they were supposed to be a surprise... please pretend you never saw this." you say in a disappointed tone, you must have been too distracted by your music to hear trent coming home.

"alright, alright. can i help you with the last one at least ?"

"of course not, you can't help making your own gift." you refused, but trent wouldn't take no for an answer. he placed the toppings to form a smiley face on the heart pizza. you snapped a quick picture of your masterpiece before putting it in the oven.

your boyfriend set up the table while you lit up some scented candles. these kinds of evenings were your favourites. the evenings when your boyfriend's was just yours, not the media's or the fans'. just trent, just yours.

trent was taken aback when you hugged his back, resting your head on his shoulder.

"you know i'm proud of you, right ? you did great today mister liverpool captain."

"i think you might have mentioned that a couple of times. thank you for believing in me pretty girl." he pressed a kiss on your lips before getting the pizzas out of the oven.

you ate your pizzas in front of a movie trent picked, of course, under the covers you brought to your living room, intently listing to each other's comments as silly as they might have been.

quickly enough, you fell asleep and felt trent's arms carrying you to your shared bedroom.

"where are we going ?" you asked him in a sleepy voice, even though you already knew the answer.

"to bed ratatouille."

"don't compare me to a rat." you huffed in disapproval of his newfound nickname for you.

"you're the rat that makes the best pizzas in the whole world."

you both cuddled up under your covers, and you felt tiredness get the best of you, trent must have felt it as well.

"goodnight, i love you." he said pressing a kiss on your cheek, after turning off the lights.

"i love you too, sleep well my captain."

trent's light strokes on your arm and his slow breathing lulled you to sleep swiftly. these were really your favourite nights, in the company of your favourite boy.

[novaursa]

Can I request a pre-rebellion Ned Stark x Targaryen!reader.

Reader is a skilled swordswoman and essentially sneaks into a tourney (by disguising herself in armour) and she duels against Ned and beats him. Then she reveals herself and he’s just real impressed and becomes smitten.

The duel is similar to this scene from GOT. - https://youtu.be/wE2XFEUXxjk?si=ai7YLWHfo5rFrT_0

Dragonsteel

- Summary: You enlist in the sword tournament under a disguise and steal Ned’s heart.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Eddard Stark

- Note: These events happen before Robert's Rebellion.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The tourney grounds were buzzing with excitement, a sea of colors and banners whipping in the brisk wind, but you were hidden away, slipping into your armor. It was a fine set—plain and nondescript, save for a small pendant around your neck, bearing the image of a three-headed dragon, its wings wrapped protectively around a tiny sword. It was something you’d carried since you were a child, but to everyone else, it was just a trinket. No one would suspect who was beneath the steel and mail.

This was your chance. You’d watched, eyes burning with envy, as knights from all over the realm tested their skill in the lists. Your father, King Aerys, had dismissed your requests to participate with a snarl, your mother with pleading eyes, and Rhaegar, ever the dutiful older brother, had only sighed and shook his head. But there was fire in your blood, a restlessness that couldn’t be quenched with needlework and courtly dances. So, you took matters into your own hands.

The sword felt like an extension of your arm as you stepped into the ring, the weight familiar, comforting. Your first opponent—a burly knight whose house crest you didn’t recognize—grinned down at you, clearly underestimating the slight, armored figure before him. His mistake. You disarmed him in three swift moves, his blade clattering to the ground as he blinked, stunned.

The crowd cheered, more in surprise than in recognition, and you took a deep breath, trying not to let the rush of victory get to your head. There were still more rounds to go.

One by one, you dispatched your opponents. Some were more skilled, some less, but none could match the ferocity of your strikes or the quickness of your feet. You moved like a dancer, weaving and striking with a grace few knights possessed. You caught glimpses of the royal box between bouts, the glint of Rhaegar’s silver hair and the white beard of your father. They were watching, as were countless others, but you doubted they knew it was you beneath the helm.

Finally, your last opponent stepped forward, and your heart did a peculiar flip in your chest. Eddard Stark—Ned, as you’d heard his friends call him—strode into the ring. He was tall and lean, his face serious and composed. You remembered him from the occasional visits to King’s Landing he made with his father, his quiet demeanor and the way he seemed slightly out of place amidst the opulence of the Red Keep. He was different from the other men who vied for your attention, and you found yourself strangely intrigued.

Ned inclined his head in a respectful nod, which you returned before settling into a defensive stance. His grey eyes narrowed, studying your form, and you wondered what he saw—a mysterious knight with no house sigil, or just another challenger to defeat.

The clash was swift and intense. He was cautious, methodical, his strikes precise, each one meant to test your defenses. You parried and dodged, feeling a thrill of excitement course through you. Here was a challenge, a true test of your skill.

But you were no green boy fresh from the training yard. You pressed forward, your sword a blur as you forced him back. His brow furrowed in concentration, but there was something else there too, a glint of admiration, perhaps? Or was it confusion?

You spun, your blade catching his in a perfect arc that sent his sword flying from his grasp. The crowd erupted in cheers, but you barely heard them, your gaze locked on his. Ned Stark, the quiet, solemn lordling of the North, stood disarmed before you, a look of disbelief on his face.

Slowly, you reached up and removed your helm, shaking out your hair as gasps rippled through the audience. The pendant around your neck caught the light, the tiny dragon glinting like fire.

“Seven hells,” Ned muttered, staring at you with wide eyes. You bit back a grin, enjoying his shock far too much.

The reaction from the royal box was immediate. Rhaegar shot to his feet, his expression a mix of horror and incredulity. “What in the name of the gods are you doing?” he shouted, his voice carrying over the stunned silence. “You could have been hurt!”

You shrugged, not bothering to hide the mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “But I wasn’t, dear brother.” You turned back to Ned, who was still gaping at you as if you’d sprouted wings. “Apologies, Lord Stark. I hope I didn’t bruise your pride too much.”

His lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile forming as he dipped his head. “I’ve never been bested by a… princess before.” There was something warm in his gaze now, something that made your stomach flutter. “You fight well.”

You felt a strange heat rise to your cheeks. “Thank you, my lord,” you said, surprised at the sudden shyness in your own voice. This wasn’t how you’d expected this encounter to go. Where was your usual confidence?

The murmurs from the crowd grew louder as people began to piece together what had happened. A princess—no, the king’s daughter—had fought in the lists, had bested some of the finest knights in the realm, and had unseated Eddard Stark. It was scandalous, outrageous, and thoroughly satisfying.

Rhaegar descended from the royal box, his long strides eating up the distance between you. “Father will have your head for this,” he murmured, but there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes, a secret smile that only you could see.

“Let him try,” you retorted, sheathing your sword with a flourish. “But perhaps he should consider that his daughter is not quite as helpless as he thinks.”

Rhaegar shook his head, exasperated, but he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re incorrigible,” he sighed, but his voice was soft, fond.

You turned back to Ned, who was still watching you with that same, curious expression. “Well, my lord,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Will you join me for a walk? Or are you too humiliated to be seen with the likes of me?”

His smile widened then, a rare, genuine smile that softened his features. “I think, Princess, that I’d be honored.” He offered his arm, and you took it, feeling the eyes of the entire court upon you as you walked away from the tourney grounds.

As you left, you caught Rhaegar’s bemused expression, the horrified looks of some of the other lords and ladies, and, from somewhere in the back, the sound of someone bursting into laughter. You couldn’t help but grin. Let them talk. You’d had your victory.

[hardlysticks]

The Sea Breeze Carries Unknown Secrets

Chapter 1

You can’t remember much of last night, you remember waking up and seeing two creatures in the ocean. Clearly it was a dream, being back in this town brought back the ideas of the creatures that your grandfather had warned you about.

Besides that weird dream and the splashes near the rocks, everything had been fairly normal. You spend your days venturing into town and reliving parts of your childhood summers that you could remember; that cute little cafe that always served tasty treats, or maybe the little antique shop where your grandfather had bought you a little model sailboat. It was all surprisingly still here.

It brought you a sense of comfort to see that everything was still the same, which meant that those you had met when you were younger still remembered you.

“Oh darling! It’s been so long since we last saw you!”

An older woman broke you from your thoughts as she brought her hands up to pinch at the apple of your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but smile at the affection and her words, you remember the older woman, she was one who would feed you stories of the sea while always leaving a seat open for you and your grandfather open at her restaurant.

“I know I know, college and my career really kept me away from visiting. But I’ve moved into papa’s old home” you mentioned to her.

You weren’t that young kid who would run around town and listen to whatever story you could get your hands on, you were now in your mid thirties and had stepped your foot into the world of publishing and writing books.

“That’s wonderful! We really have missed seeing you around. Now if you ever need a little something to eat then you know where to find me” she gave you a quick pat on the cheek before she had wandered off back to her restaurant.

As the older woman wandered off you pulled your phone out of your pocket to look at the list you made for yourself, even if you finished unpacking you still had stuff left to do. Such as grocery shopping.

With your phone in hand you made your way to the small market that the town called a grocery store, staring down at your grocery list you meandered down the aisles grabbing the food that would sustain you in your new houses.

The fruit and vegetables always seemed to be more ripe and colorful in the coastal town, you don’t remember seeing such a juicy mango in the city. Staring at the display of vegetables in front of you, it distracts you from the feeling of being watched. Coal brown eyes that followed every little bit of your movement, but staying out of your sight.

Your mind played it off as someone not recognizing you in a town of close knit people, with a shake of your head you moved to wander down the bakery aisle instead.

With your gaze focused on your grocery list you managed to walk into a wall, though when you glanced up from the list you noticed that it was in fact not a wall…. And instead a wall of muscle.

“Oh!- oh I’m so sorry! I really should have focused on where I’m going-“ you stuttered out as you started at the behemoth of a man.

The man, now that you got a better look, was around 6’2 and built like a brick house. A black surgical mask covered the lower half of his face, if you squinted just slightly you could see a display of light freckles that dusted his face, and then there was the dark brown eyes but you could have sworn under the fluorescent light it turned to an amber like color.

“It’s fine” a gruff voice interrupted you from your thoughts, the thick Manchester accent definitely matched this giant of a man. The man held a basket filled with summer vegetables and what seemed like tea boxes.

“Right um… still I should pay better attention” you added, before offering your name towards him. The man raised an eyebrow; staring down at your form before letting out another grunt.

“M’names simon” he replied, a tinge of hesitancy lining his voice, all while his eyes held a sort of amusement. With a smile you gave him a nod and glanced down at your almost full basket, you had gotten what you came here for.

“Well… it’s nice to meet you Simon. But I must be off now. I hope to see you around” you offered him with a smile before heading off to the cashier. The line went by fast and you were able to pay for all the necessities you needed for the next few days.

The walk home was nice, the cool sea breeze cools you down from the summer sun all while letting your hair wisp against your face. It was far better than the smog filled air you had learned to live with in the city.

Town wasn’t all too far from your seaside cottage, a long gravel road welcomed you back to your cottage. Carefully balancing your bags of groceries in your arms you tried to reach back towards your pocket to retrieve your key to open your door. As you stopped at your porch you noticed something blocking your way.

Fish… dead fish

As you took a closer look at the fish you noticed it was a small arrangement of cod and grouper… how the hell did they make their way to your porch from the seaside? With a groan you stepped around them and brought your groceries inside, trying to plan on how to deal with the fish.

Eventually the only thing that came to mind was… throwing the dead fish back in the sea. Your lip curled up in slight disgust as you picked up the dead fish and tossed them back into the sea, mumbling to yourself about how gross that was.

A pair of sapphire eyes watched from past the rocks on the coastline, squinting with confusion as they watched you toss the fish away.

Authors note!- y’all I’m so sorry school kicked my ass with exams but I should now be regularly posting each weekend! And also next chapter reader will do some interacting with someone special 👀

[coffeecat1983]

Stobotnik: "As the Song Says" pt 5.

Trigger warnings, this and upcoming chapters will contain blood and graphic depictions of anxiety/panic attacks.

   Robotnik woke with a groan. The clock read it was past noon. Cursing as he got up, he quickly showered and dressed before stalking off to the lab.      "Doctor! I hope you slept well." Stone's voice was his usual happy tone, and yet something made Robotnik's ears twitch. There was a weariness in the undertone.      "It was a waste of time as usual, but I feel sufficiently rested." he said, taking his seat. He began typing away before flicking his eyes to Stone. "And you?" He saw Stone jerk slightly at the question. It wasn't one he had asked before and it threw the agent off but only for a few seconds before he was back to business as usual.      "I slept well."    Liar!    The urge to burst out with this accusation was strong. He saw the dark circles under the other man's eyes, along with the haunted look of someone hiding physical pain. It was a look he knew well, having seen it on his own face many times in the past. He was considering what to say next when Stone stood and started for the door.      "Now that you're up, I'll get breakfast and your latte before I leave."      "Leave?" Robotnik was up and following him to the kitchen. "What for?" Stone looked surprised. "It's a new week, sir. Supply run today."    Ah, right. They were technically in the middle of nowhere so stocking up on supplies took some work. Money hadn't been an issue, Stone had seen to that after that... incident with the blasted hedgehog and his new friends. A quick transfer of funds overseas, some paperwork that got 'lost', and a digital trail that had been wiped clean had left the doctor and his assistant not billionaires, but comfortable enough to stay fed and provide any equipment that they needed for any task. This was also the reason they could keep the small, private jet that was now resting in the underground hanger not fifty feet from where he now stood.    Stone would be leaving. Out there alone. No help if something happened to him. No, no no no this wasn't-      "Sir?"      "Hmm?" Robotnik snapped out of his thoughts.    The stunning brown eyes looked concerned. "I asked if you wanted anything added to the list?"      "Ah, no. You know what I like. And Stone, make it a double stock up, carry us through the month if you can plan that far ahead."    Stone looked surprised but gave a nod. "Yessir."      "And just a simple breakfast today."    Knowing a simple breakfast meant an omelette and lightly buttered toast only, Stone set to preparing the meal. It wasn't much later that the scientist was seated in the dining nook with a plate before him and Stone preparing to leave. Before taking off his apron, the agent put the finishing touches on the doctor's latte and placed it beside him.      "I'll be back shortly, doctor."    Robotnik avoided looking at him, merely giving a low hum and wave of his hand. He could feel it. If he dared look at his agent the panic that had been building would likely burst out, and he didn't need to explain why he was a shaking mess to the other man. Once he was alone, he quickly finished eating and took the latte with him to the lab.    Taking his place in his seat, he changed into his gloves, placing the plain leather ones aside. A tap of a fingertip and a holoscreen popped up, displaying Agent Stone's vital signs. It was with faint irritation that he regretted not sending a mini-nik after Stone to keep him on camera. Brushing this thought aside, he pulled up the previous night's research and prepared to resume his work. Lifting the latte, he sipped at it.    The flavor made him pause as he savored it, his mind daring to drift again.

     "I must say, agent, I didn't expect you to know about cooking. Yet you've surprised me."    Robotnik took another bite, the black truffle risotto's creamy taste a complement to the thinly sliced Filet Mignon that was placed on top. "Just how does a GUN agent gain culinary skills?"    Stone let out a low chuckle. "I wasn't always an agent, sir."    Robotnik decided to pry. "Really, Stone? I will likely regret this but do tell." The other was quiet for a moment, his mood thoughtful. "As I'm sure you already know, I was orphaned at age eight, a house fire saw to that. Raised in a foster home until ten when my parents affairs were finally worked out and I was shipped overseas to study at a boarding school. I left once I graduated college, and I traveled more on my own after that before settling in France for a while. I took positions under two of the finest chefs in Paris. That's where I learned many of the recipes that I make."    Robotnik filed this away. So his agent was an orphan as well. He couldn't help but wonder if GUN had placed them together for that reason alone.    One stray to another.    As he contemplated this, he sipped at the coffee that had been made and grimaced.      "Something wrong, sir?" Stone was on instant alert. A wave of the hand. "Nothing, agent, just these fools gave us a kitchen yet fail to provide equipment for a decent latte. I've traveled extensively around this pathetic marble. My favorite stop was a small place in Austria. Simple minded people to be sure, but a far cry from the version we call 'rednecks' here. There was a cafe I would frequent. They made a stunning latte using steamed goat's milk from the nearby farm." he couldn't help it, his voice was growing wistful. "I'd love to have those lattes again."    It was a week later, he entered the break room that was attached to the lab only to find a new espresso machine along with a few other pieces taking up the counter. He ignored it and grabbing his usual sour mango energy drink, went to his desk. The drink sat forgotten as he dove into designing his next prototype, and when he went to reach for it at four he realized it was gone.      "Agent," he grumbled, "did you take something from my desk?" How long had he been working? He hadn't even seen Stone pick up the glaringly bright orange can or head to the break room.      "I have something for you instead of those chemical loaded disasters." Stone said cheerily as he left the break room. He placed a steaming mug on the doctor's table.      "I hope it's to your liking, sir. I tracked down the cafe you spoke so highly of and obtained the recipe."    A hesitant sip, and he had to hide the tremor in his hands.    It was perfect.

   Robotnik drifted back to the present as a beep caught his attention.    Final result for potential survival rate: 0% He couldn't hide the tremor this time, the latte spilling and the mug nearly falling from his hands as he hurried to put it aside and resume typing.    No, no he was not going to let this damned thing win! He pulled up a random playlist, blindly selecting a song to focus on as he changed the search parameters again.    The song blasted out, a remix that enhanced the beat. He tapped his foot along to it and was getting into his research until he caught the name of the song from the corner of his eye. He knew that term well, it had been tossed in his face by 'experts in mental health' when he was a child over and over again. He bent over, chest tight and breathing tense as the room spun.    All around him the song Monophobia continued.

To be continued...

[lurkingshan]

My Love Mix Up Episode 2

I have just finished the episode and I was not pleased, so this is your warning to look away if it's going to hurt your feelings to read a serious critique of this show.

I was trying to give it some space last week, but this is an offensively bad adaptation of a beloved Japanese work. I could not believe my eyes through the final part of this episode, and I was already feeling pretty down on the episode before I even got there. The team at GMMTV has stripped most of the important themes and the unique aspects of these characters away and replaced them with monetized drivel that is basically just a MSP redux in Kieta Hatsukoi drag. Let me make a quick list of the bad changes in this episode:

Rather than accepting Atom volunteering to play the lead role in drag and rallying around him, the class shoots him down and forces Mudmee into the role

Which means not only that Atom does not perform in drag, but also does not spend time properly rehearsing for this role on stage with the rest of the cast (put a pin in that one!)

Atom doesn't struggle much with getting over Mudmee and starts making moon eyes at Kongthap much earlier on--there's no real arc, it just suddenly is happening

Kongthap is somehow comfortable starring as the lead in a musical despite the fact that he is meant to be a socially awkward and quietly intense dude

Oh yeah, they made the play a goddamn musical so they could make a series of MVs within the episode and monetize the OSTs (they were going to make Mudmee, a girl with intense stage fright, sing and dance onstage???)

Atom runs into the play at the last minute (somehow in a costume for a part that didn't exist) and hits all his marks, performing flawlessly in a role he did not properly prepare for instead of comically struggling to carry out a passable performance

Kongthap (who you may recall is supposed to be awkward and uncomfortable with romance and uncertain of his feelings for Atom) smoothly performs a love duet and ballroom dance scene with Atom, rather than awkwardly delivering a few stiff lines

Rather than the whole class teasing Atom about a drag performance in a way that displayed a subtle form of systemic bias, they had three bullies be blatantly homophobic and get singled out as bad apples

These choices are not just bad because they're different, they're bad because they undermine characterization and the internal logic and themes of the story. Some of this just plain doesn't make sense, and I no longer wonder why Fourth and Gemini are struggling in these roles when their characters are not consistently grounded. If they wanted a generic high school show to make more quick money off this cast, I really wish they would have left Kieta Hatsukoi out of it.

[the-guilty-writer]

I second the ask about Hotch's daughter with endometriosis!!! I'd like to see that

I just finished it ♡

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

You truly wondered how women with endometriosis survived periods before thermotherapy products were invented. Hot water bottles and heating pads were a necessity for you during this time of the month. It wasn’t that they made the pain go away - they just made it bearable enough to allow you small bits of time where you could do something more than laying down.

At the moment, a hot water bottle and a maxed out dose of Ibuprofen were holding you together - barely. After twenty minutes at school, you were sent home by your English teacher, who was concerned about your nauseous complexion. Somehow, you'd managed to do some make-up work before taking a long (and much-needed) nap.

With your dad away on a case, the list of chores was longer than normal, but the pain made moving nearly impossible, much less cleaning. Dishes needed to be put away, the kitchen table needed to be cleared, and he laundry hamper was flooded with clothes, but there was no way you could do any of it while your insides felt like they were going to fall out. The only thing you absolutely had to do was pick Jack up from school. Everything else could wait.

All the energy you’d gathered went into the ten minute drive to and from picking up your brother. He requested a snack as soon as you got home, which you somehow managed to make him food without screaming in pain. It took every ounce of energy you had left to sit at the table with your brother as he did his homework.

The pain and fatigue clouded your brain, so much so that you hardly noticed the door to the apartment open.

“Dad!” Jack jumped up his seat and down the hall toward him.

“Hey buddy,” Hotch said. The tone of his voice was a testament to his exhaustion, but a happiness to be home.

“Dad, I made this painting in art class and I really want to show you. It's in my bedroom. Come look!” Jack didn’t give your dad a moment of rest.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Jack’s feet pounded against the floor, running to his room in anticipation. Your dad’s longer, slower footsteps followed behind. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, you could tell the case has been a hard one. He looked beyond exhausted, horrors still haunting his eyes and crushing his spirit. Not even your little brother's innocent greeting could extinguish what your dad had endured over the past few days.

“Hey, dad,” you greeted him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster up.

“Hi sweetheart.” He planted a quick kiss atop your head before moving to the kitchen. “Where are all the plates?”

A displeasement crossed your dad’s face. You'd meant to empty the dishwasher earlier that day, but the pain body had stopped you.

“Still in the dishwasher,” you said, holding back a wince as your stomach cramped.

“I thought we talked about this.”

“We did, but-”

“You’re almost an adult. I expect you to start showing up like one.” He was calm but stern. Unblinking eyes bore into you. It made you want to cry.

Hotch turned and left the kitchen, his calm footsteps indicating he was going to Jack's room.

Despite the pain radiating through your body, you stood up and carefully made your way to the dishwasher to unload it. As soon as you leaned over to lower the door, a stabbing sensation penetrated your gut. Dizziness washed over your head and blackened your vision. In an instant, you had crumbled to the floor.

You weren't even aware that you'd let out a cry of pain until your dad was kneeling next to you, a gentle hand caressing your face. Through teary, blurry vision, you could just make out the worry in his fearures.

“It hurts,” you choked out.

“I know,” he said gently. “I'm here. I've got you.”

Strong arms lifted you off the kitchen floor, carrying you to the couch. A heating pad was laid across your stomach and a straw was brought up to your lips with the gentle encouragement to drink.

When you managed to open your eyes, Hotch was next to you, a look of concern on his normally serious face.

"Hi, sweetheart." The words were the same as before, but his tone was different.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Here," Hotch brought a hand behind your back and used the other to hand you a bottle of water, "have some water."

You took gentle sips. Your father’s hand still rested on your back, rubbing it soothingly.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You didn't make me get up." It was true.

"No, but I jumped to conclusions about what you were able to do and it made you feel like you had to do something that caused you pain." Sometimes having a profiler for a dad was a good thing. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you said.

Hotch helped you lay down again, covering you with a warm blanket. "Can I get you anything?"

You snuggled into the blanket and adjusted the heating pad to sit in the best place for easing pain. "Just the TV remote."

Your dad smiled - his small but rare smile - before handing you the remote. The rest of the afternoon would be filled with watching bad TV and chick flicks, but he didn't mind. If it made you just a little more comfortable, then it was worth it.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Winter Without You

Summary: Its been fifty years since he left. Being happy no longer feels right, and winter no longer feels like winter without him.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: As a gift to all my babies, your lil santa got a lil busy eatin cookies, so here is a late solstice present 😉

(Also to make up for the awful Rhysie in remember me)

(this is mostly Y/n missing and wallowing in sadness because she misses rhysand, the end is reunion)

(i also know this is kind of a break up song, but the lyrics fit 🤷🏻‍♀️)

•○🌑○•

Every year right around this time People putting up trees and lights And I been thinking that this don't feel right 'Cause I'm without you

Everywhere Y/n looked, she found people smiling, with and without reason.

And she could not blame them, for it was the season to be happy.

The coming of solstice had everyone excited, making the air and aura lighter and brighter, filling it with loving laughter and chatter.

Y/n almost hated herself for tainting it with the darkness and sadness she had been carrying around lately.

Almost.

Only because there was no place in her heart for any emotion that was not longing for her husband.

'Cause I'm without you If I could make a list, you'd be the first in it If I could make a wish, you'd show in a minute Only if it was that way But there's some things that I can't change

There had been a new tradition going around Velaris.

Parents had begun telling their children about how the mother would grant their wishes and give them all they wished for if they stayed good all year, in hopes to get them to behave, and Y/n could not help but wish it were true.

Wished that the mother really did grant wishes on solstice, if only it meant Y/n could pray for her husband to be returned to her.

Wished that all she had to do was make a list of things she wanted, the first- and only- thing she wanted being Rhysand, and when she woke up in the morning, she'd find that he had returned.

Y/n sighed, continuing to walk towards the town house after a quick run to the market for some ingredients the wraith twins had asked for.

So now This ain't winter without you No more joy, no laughter Wish that I could turn it back around When I'm falling down

Winter had been Y/n's favourite season. Because colder weather meant drinking hot chocolate prepared by her husband.

It meant snuggling up to his warm body, grinning shyly up at him.

It meant watching him laugh whole heartedly, receiving a kiss on the forehead before he went back to his work, now with her stuck to him like a new limb.

It meant being forced to stand still while he wrapped her up in warm coats and scarves whenever they went out, grumbling about the extra layers and receiving a kiss to quiet her down.

It meant extra time in the bed in the morning with her husband because they both were too lazy to get up.

It meant being stuck to him or following him around like a lost duckling because she was just that desperate for warmth and fire never satiated her needs quite like her husband did.

But that was all before he had left.

Now fifty years had passed, and still it never got easier.

Winter just was not the same without him, and it made her wonder how she had ever lived without him before they met.

So how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for christmas

She yearned for him.

To simply hear his voice again, to stare into those beautiful eyes, she was ready to bargain away her life.

She no longer cared whether she lived or died, and she would have taken her own life a long time ago if it meant she would not have to bear this pain.

Despite trying to end things multiple times, Y/n could never take that final step, because the last thing she wanted to see before she died was not the ceiling or the wall of her bedroom.

It was those violet eyes she wanted to die to.

She did not want the feeling of the cold hard ground or hanging suspended in the air to be the last thing she felt before that sweet reprieve claimed her.

It was the feeling of strong, warm and loving arms wrapped around her body.

She wished he would at least open his mind to her, so she could at the very least ask him if he was eating well. Sleeping well. Drinking enough water.

Y/n wanted to ask him if he was okay.

Wanted to tell him he was strong, that he was stronger than anyone she had ever known, and to never give up.

Alas, all she could do was want and wish.

All she had done in the past half century.

And if I could turn back the time You'd be in my arms again But there's some things that I can't change

Y/n sometimes cursed the mother for not granting her the power to turn back time, for not making any instrument to fast forward in time, just so she could at least have one glimpse of her lover, her husband, and know that he was alright.

She wished she'd been born with the gift to turn back time so she could have him in her arms again.

Hell, she even perused the books in the library of the house of wind in search of any way to turn back time, didn't matter if it was allowed or not. Even if it went against all laws of nature, if it would curse her soul forever to go against the decision of the Mother.

Mother's happiness and blessing be damned, Y/n just wanted to hold and be held by her husband again.

Even if she'd burn in hell for it.

Heavy snow pouring out my window I pray to stars and the angels No, no more lonely nights 

Y/n sat next to the huge window in the darkened room, arms wrapped around her knees as she watched the snow dance in the air before landing softly onto the already blanketed layer on the ground.

She swallowed down the knot in her throat.

Back before Rhys had left and then been unable to return, he would take Y/n out to play.

Just the way him and his brothers would have snowball fights, he would play with Y/n in the snow, as if the two of them were again kids.

Rhys knew all about Y/n's upbringing, and it had never been glitter and sparkles. So whatever chance he got, he tried to get her to experience everything she had missed out on.

This was one of those things.

Now Y/n sat alone, the sounds of her family celebrating in the background, and she prayed again.

Prayed to the stars, the moon, the night sky, the mother, the angels, the devils and forgotten mortal gods.

Prayed to anyone willing to listen, to return her husband.

She had lost all hope, but still, there was nothing else she could do but sit and pray for his health and safety and hope.

Pray to them so there were no more lonely nights she had to go through.

Hope that he would be by her side again.

So I keep wishing and hoping You'd walk through the door Hold me 'cause I know We'll fight through the cold 

She had stopped celebrating solstice or any other event that she had loved before, because what was the point in celebrating life when the one who kept you alive was probably dying off somewhere?

Y/n sucked in a ragged breath, clenching her eyes shut, feeling the fat tears roll down her cheek.

The sound of footsteps echoed outside the door, and her eyes flashed open, and she stared at the door, wishing, hoping, it was him.

Hoping he walked in through the door, gave her his signature charming smile, and then held her as they both fought to get back to their normal lives.

She would give anything for that piece of imagination to become reality.

Y/n sighed and turned back to the window as the footsteps faded away, likely a family member going to bed.

Now tell me how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for Christmas

Staring at the stars that he probably could not see, she screamed.

After everyone had gone to bed, Y/n had snuck out of the town house and made her way to the tallest peak in Velaris, and then finally, she let loose.

It had become a tradition, a habit, where every solstice night, Y/n would sneak out of home and come to this exact mountain, and scream up at the stars.

Why her? Why him?

She screamed and screamed, asking the mother, and him- not that he could hear- how she was supposed to live without him.

How she was supposed to be happy without him.

And then, after hours of screaming and cursing at the twinkling starry sky, she would collapse, staring up while laying on her back, whispering, pleading, begging, for some sign that he would return.

That he would be home, at the very least, for the next solstice.

So how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for Christmas

Exhausted, she would fall asleep, only waking once the soft rays of the sun caressed her skin gently, telling her it was time to start the miserable routine she had fallen into all over again.

She would drag herself back home, suppressing the urge to throw herself into the Sidra, and wait for the next solstice to come around so she could again scream and cry at the injustice of it all.

•○🌑○•

The wards felt different today, Y/n could feel it.

They felt stronger, more lively, though they seemed ready to fall.

What was going on, Y/n could not tell, but as she made her way through the winding passages of the moonstone palace, her heart beat louder and faster, and a sense of longing gripped Y/n's body in a vise-like grip.

Her strolling footsteps hurried, and Y/n was running by the time she reached one of the sitting rooms, the door ajar.

Panting, chest heaving, she took that final step, and her world came to a stop.

She smelled him before she heard him, heard him before she saw him, and saw him before she understood fully who she was staring at.

Rhysand.

Her husband.

The male she was in love with, one she had not seen in fifty long years, one she yearned to get a glimpse of each second of every day spent she spent without.

He stood there, his skin pale as he hugged his cousin, crying, whispering, over and over again, where is she?

Where is my wife?

It took only a moment for the siblings to notice the new presence in the room, but to Y/n, it was another fifty years.

Though this wait she did not mind, for what did a moment compare to eighteen thousand, two hundred sixty-two days?

She simply stared at the embracing siblings, a traitorous tear slipping out of her eye the longer she stared.

And then finally, he lifted his eyes, and glossy violet met hers, widening, more tears slipping out as he pulled away from his cousin, his lips parting on an exhale.

Mor turned to look at Y/n, tear tracks staining her own cheeks, and grinned.

Y/n paid no attention to her though, her eyes tracking her husband's body, marking the amount of weight and muscle he had lost, the loss of colour of his skin, the dimmed shine in his once sparkling eyes.

Y/n swallowed. "Mor? Do you mind giving us a moment?"

"But-"

"Please, Mor." Y/n's voice broke, and she cursed herself for it.

Mor nodded, hastily making her way out of the room.

Y/n reached behind herself to grasp the door, shutting it softly, not taking her eyes off of him once.

She had let him out of her sight once, and as punishment, had been able to see him for fifty years. She would not look away again, not while this felt like a cruel dream the mother was showing Y/n, only to take it all away for her to realise she was dreaming.

"Rhysand." She whispered, taking a step foward.

"Y/n." His voice broke on the name, and he swallowed, tears beginning anew.

When she was close enough, she reached her hand out, running her fingers along his cheek, afraid anything other than the ghost of a touch would make him vanish.

His eyes were pleading, filled with silver, and Y/n wanted to do nothing more than throw herself onto him and never let go.

But she couldn't do that.

She first wanted t make sure this was not some mirage, and that he really was here, unhurt and safe, back with her where he belonged.

Slowly, she cupped his cheek, trying her best to stop any tears from flowing.

When she was sure that this was a miracle, not a mirage, Y/n stepped closer, searching his eyes, his face.

She gently grasped his chin, turning his head this way and that, running her hands along his shoulder and arms, searching for something she hoped was not there.

He laughed, the sound a balm to her frayed nerves.

"You've lost weight." Y/n phrased it like a question.

He smiled softly, sadly. "So have you."

She shook her head. "Are you okay?"

His smile widened, and he leaned forward slightly. "Will get there."

Y/n nodded, and then finally, she extended her arms, snaking them gently around his neck, pressing every inch of her body against his, and buried her face in his neck.

His arms wrapped around her back and waist, and instantly, tension bled from both their bodies. She tightened her hold on him, and he returned it tenfold.

Y/n didn't care he was crushing her, all she knew was she was home, finally.

He was back home.

"I missed you, husband."

"I missed you more, my love."

She pulled back her face to search his nearly empty eyes, and gave him the first smile she had smile in the past fifty years. He rested her forehead against hers, his lips tilted up in contentment.

"Welcome home, my love. Welcome home Rhysand."

•○🌑○•

Rhysand Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

[the-ate-show]

00:07 The Muse Wc: 8.0K

A/N: lil relationship moment to give some backstory, lil mixed media in there

The air was nice, cool enough to not have to bundle up. Tonight, your nerves were on fire. You smoothed over your dress once more, making sure it fit just right. You were supposed to be interviewing the creators of this popular tv series, trying to figure out some new addition to your article. With one final adjustment to yourself on camera, you and the videographer took your designated spots. The celebrities filed in, occasionally stopping to give you their two cents. You scribbled notes, played along with their words, and tried to be respectful.

Thankfully, your connections paid off, and you were swept away to be one of the insiders. This was new, you were nervous, but pushed through, taking interviews in a controlled environment, and receiving many compliments on your outfit and conduct. It was only a short list of A-listers to ask, then a few more lower grades. What interested you was a bold instruction written on your guide, ‘LEAVE SCREEN WRITER’, you had inquired, and your cameraman told you he had a tendency of ditching the interviews, so he was a waste of time.

“Point him out to me,” you asked, and the man scanned the area, then pointed at a man stood off to the side, nursing some red wine. 

He had a very brooding look to him, captivating almost. You ultimately decided not to talk to him.

You parted from your camera man, with clear instructions to both you and him to just enjoy the rest of the night. You figured now would be a good time to organise a few of your thoughts before your ride arrived. You sat on a little table in the corner, taking out your notepad and trying to decipher your illegible handwriting. You must’ve been at it for a while, until you noticed someone join you at the other side of the table. Habitually, you got up, but the person lifted a hand up gesturing for you to stop.

You sat back down, recognising him immediately.

“You didn’t come for an interview,” he took a sip out of his cup from earlier, eyes casted at a distant table.

“I was told you weren’t a fan of those, mr. Yu,”

“Ah, appears you know more than it seems.”

“I did my research,” you smiled softly. “I’m not meant to speak my bias, but your work on this movie is undeniable skill. In this specific area of work, I tend to have to talk to alot of people who’ve only pulled strings. Your work on that movie was phenomenal, sir,”

He didn’t respond, only sat up a little straighter and finally looked at you. He took a quick survey of you, humming at the expensive purse you carried.

“Well,” his lips tugged at the corners slightly, “I’m an open book,” he gestured to your notepad and you nodded quickly, clicking your pen and writing down his answers to your questions.

That night, excitement bubbled inside of you, and you pulled an all nighter to finish up the article. It was very centered around him, this was huge after all, for someone dubbed ‘elusive and exclusive’, you got very easy access to his thoughts. You felt like a superhero of some kind. The article was perfectly drafted by the third time, and you sent it off to your agency for them to give it a scan. You slept soundly that night, draped on your couch in a position that would definitely cause neck problems in the morning.

Approved, published, and boosted your career even further. You were over the moon! 

Life dulled down a bit after that, with no new hotshots to talk to or celebrities to chase down, you spent your time writing up bigger, longer articles on something you dubbed ‘Social Rebirth’. Countless celebrities seemed to have suddenly sprung into fame, with gaps in their timelines that indicate there’s more to them than what meets the eye. You were up writing particularly late, some cheesy early 2000’s music playing as you replayed the same files over and over again in hopes you’ll catch a change in time stamps. 

A ping popped up on your phone, a notification from email. You launched the app on your laptop, half expecting another ad on deals that somehow slipped your spam box.

Instead… a curious little sender.

FROM: Yu.Phil@email.com

TO: writes@buiness.com 

Dear miss…,

Hope this email finds you well. I reviewed your article about me, and I have to say, I’m impressed. You have a very eloquent way of articulating your words, in a mesmerizing fashion that kept me hooked. Oddly, I find myself regretting not giving you more information, as that article didn’t feel long enough. Perhaps we should arrange another interview, you’ll find I have much to offer.

Kind regards, 

Phillip Yu, screenwriter.

Oh crap. You didn’t expect him to actually read it, no one ever did! It wasn’t made for celebrity consumption, and you wondered how many snide jokes you snuck in, as usual, without knowing he’d read it. He sent it only recently, so you responded.

FROM: writes@buiness.com 

TO: Yu.Phil@email.com

Dear Mr Yu,

Thank you for your feedback, and kind words. I try to not cross the line between professional and invasive questions, which I seem to have very clumsily blurred during our conversation. 

Although, if you feel as though you’d be comfortable giving me more to work with, then another article would surely be in the works. 

Signed.

You leaned back, rubbing your hand up and down your face, then grabbing a bite of food. You just about went to take another when a reply came.

FROM: Yu.Phil@email.com

TO: writes@buiness.com 

Dear miss, 

That was quite the fast response, are journalists nocturnal? 🤔

No worries, you didn’t come off clumsy at all. How about tomorrow evening at sunshine cafe, 18:00?

Kind regards, 

Phillip Yu, screenwriter.

You stuttered a bit, unsure of how to reply. Between his lame joke and the impending invite, you struggled to find a response. 

FROM: writes@buiness.com 

TO: Yu.Phil@email.com

Haha, most of us tend to have unruly sleep schedules, part of the gig I assume.

I’m glad, see you there!

The next morning you could hardly think straight, drumming up questions, words to use to sound more impressive, potential outfits, so much to do, so little time. By 5:25, you were out the door, despite it only being a ten minute walk. You recited your introduction again and again in your head, sometimes out loud too, which the stray cats judged you for. You finally arrived, deciding to grab you both a seat when you noticed him already there. You took a deep breath, then walked over to the seat adjoining his. He got up, shaking your hand and smiling professionally.

“Nice to see you again,” you started, sitting down as he did. “Truly and honor to have this opportunity,”

“Please. It’s my honor. ” he shook his head, “I’ve reviewed some of your other work, all very fascinating topics, I tend to stray away from journalists to avoid,” he gestured vaguely, “Media issues,” 

You nodded, pursing your lips, “It’s a slippery slope, one moment a serious topic the next a secret. It's important to be able to balance gossip and facts.”

He nodded along, “Appears we’re both early. I was going to take this time to look over the menu,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. You giggled.

“Me too actually, came to get comfortable first and I guess we had the same idea,”

A sweet waiter came over and took you guys’ order shortly after, and you began the interview.

“So, sir,”

“Just Yu is fine,”

You blinked, suddenly forgetting what you were going to say. “Right, Yu, uhm there seems to be a few gaps in your wiki page, if you don’t mind I start with those,”

“Not at all,” he sipped on his coffee, black.

You clicked your pen, starting to finally enter your zone, “What did you study in university?”

“Film studies,” he replied immediately.

“And what inspired you to-”

“And you?”

“Pardon?”

“What did you study?”

You giggled slightly, taking a sip of your own drink, “You’re not supposed to ask me questions,”

“Well how’s that fair?” he frowned, but there was a hint of playfulness in his actions.

“Majored in communication, minored in media ethics,” you smiled and he made an impressed face.

“I’ve always had an affinity for theatre,” he spoke, and you jotted down in note format what he said. “The spoken word, the written word, could never speak to me like the imagery that could be created from mere concepts. Anything is possible, with just the right ideas.”

You nodded along, “So you think a good film can be enticing without the need for speech?”

“Speech is necessary for captivation, but what is more important is body language.” He adjusted himself to stare at you directly, and you caught his gaze with a nervous smile, trying to decipher what he’s doing. “You’re nervous,”

“Doesn’t take a genius,”

“No, it doesn’t.” he gave you another once over. “You’re trying to seem more open to get me to speak more, trying to match my pace and using flattery to ensure this doesn’t go south,”

“In typical fashion of someone who’s just trying to do their job right,” you squirmed a bit, feeling like his words were beginning to hit too close.

You clicked your pen again, setting it down. He quirked an eyebrow, you licked your lips and spoke. “This one is off the records,” he nodded. You brought a hand up to rest your cheek on, narrowing your eyes slightly to try to get a read on him. “Why do you hate interviews so much?” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, pushing his glasses up his nose. You stared at him encouragingly.

“Being hounded with personal questions. Negative stringing of words together.”

“Bad press,” you nodded, smiling as the food came out. “You could say that,” 

You both ate in silence for a moment, then he spoke. “Why’re you nervous? This is your job,”

You shrugged, “Never done it in this kind of setting, or with someone as closed off,”

He raised an eyebrow and you backtracked, “I mean, you’ve been nothing but an open book, it’s just that- you know you usu-”

“I understand,” a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. You sighed, choosing to just stuff your face to prevent making a fool of yourself until you recollected your thoughts.

“So your movie,” you started, “‘Cogito ergo sum’, what exactly had inspired you?”

“Well, in all actuality…”

And thus, the interview was concocted, and you went home, deciphering your notes and trying to draft a valid piece. 

‘I think, therefore I am. But what are we? The age old question. This movie, a simple step into a deeper universe of what humans really come down to, and what a person truly is. What is intention and what is action? How do we separate between good and bad?

I had the privilege of conversing with talented screen writer Philip Yu, where he shared with me some details about the movie you may not know, as well as more insight as to why he truly refrains from the limelight’

You leaned back, staring at your notes, then at your half finished takeout bag, then at your laptop. You got up to grab the food from the earlier meeting, when you noticed a napkin with some neat black inked writing.

“Dear miss…

Please do send me the article link when it’s finished, as I am ever curious.

Thanks, Philip Yu,”

On the back of the napkin? His phone number. You bit your lip, immediately saving it on your phone, then sitting back on the couch with your food. You smiled a little to yourself, celebrating this career success.

The article was sent, returned and signed off within a few days, and you watched it gain traction lovingly. In a moment of peace, you texted him.

You giggled a little, feeling your face heat up. 

A little while later, he texted you back a date, time, and place. A fancy little restaurant downtown with shining reviews, on the following Friday at 6pm. You decided to just meet there, given it’s probably a horrible idea to give a stranger your address. 

So, you searched your outfit for a pretty maroon dress, with glittery details and a lovely cut. You spent hours getting ready, perfecting your hair and makeup, testing out different heels from past events, and jewelry you were gifted. By the time 5:20 rolled around, you were ready, just taking a few phone calls as you walked down, your friend had very kindly offered to give you a ride, seeing as your car’s tires had been slashed a week earlier by someone who was definitely sent by a celebrity. You entered her little car, smiling at her.

“Hey,”

“Hey yourself! Excited?”

“Nervous,”

“Oh I bet! A screenwriter. He’ll turn your date into a movie,”

“Oh har har,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d be lucky if I don’t fumble with my words the entire time. Have you seen him?”

“The dude in the glasses you interviewed? Total cutie, but I must say, the glasses make him look like some kind of tech wiz,”

“He might be. I should ask that,” you scribbled it into your notes app, right after the twenty two other conversation starters. She leaned over at a red light and snatched your phone.

“Hey-”

“Ah ah ah, you need to be normal. No overplanning,”

“I just don’t wanna come off weird,” you sighed.

“But you are weird. Who else writes down what they’re interested in so they don’t forget?”

“Plenty of people!”

She made a ‘settle down’ gesture with her hands, rolling her eyes. “Relax juliette,”

You pouted, sinking into your chair.

“If this all goes south, text me, I’ll make up an emergency,”

“Say your grandma fell down the stairs,”

“Why does it always have to be my grandma? I like her, I feel weird saying she fell. The poor lady,”

“Do whatever girl, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed as you pulled up.

“Are you gonna text him?” she asked, parking.

“He’s here,” you responded, checking yourself in the mirror.

“How do you know?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Just saw him enter.” you smelt your breath and nodded. “How do I look?”

“Like a doll. Now go do your best, you’re live in five,” she joked and you giggled, thanking her for the ride and stepping out. You made your way to the entrance, heart beating out of your chest.

At the doorway, the hostess asked for your reservation, you said your name and they walked you to a secluded table. Candles illuminated the space, a soft jazz band playing somewhere nearby.

He got up immediately upon seeing you, smiling warmly and extending a hand to shake yours.

“Hey,” you said quietly, watching as he pulled your chair out. “And they say chivalry is dead,”

He chuckled a little, sitting on the other side. You spoke, “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Not at all,” he finally spoke, he cleared his throat, opening the menu.

You felt a little awkward, he didn’t seem very interested in small talk. Alas, you opened the pages, inspecting what they had to offer.

“Any recommendations?” you asked, pursing your lips. 

“The steak here is a delight,” he spoke ever so formally, which made you second guess whether or not this was a date.

“Right, what’re you getting?”

“The steak,”

Right right riiiiggghhttt. Stupid question. Where’s your notes app when you need it?

He called the waiter over, who took two orders of steak, as well as some appetizers and drinks. Yu kept his eyes trained on the table, only occasionally looking up to steal glances. You leaned back, already feeling slightly disgruntled.

“Soooo…”

He looked up at you, waiting for your continuation. “Are you… up to date with the latest technology?”

“I’m not sure I follow…?”

“Nevermind,”

The food came after that, and conversation stopped while you both ate. You definitely felt dejected, like this whole thing was a major bust. By the end of your meal, you offered to split the bill, which he only gave you a disgusted look at while passing his very high end card to the waiter. On the way out, he opened the door for you. You thanked him, and you both stood side by side in front of the restaurant for a while.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked, swallowing.

“I can just Uber,” you responded.

“It’s okay, I can drive you, I insist.” you nodded, and he led you over to his car. A sleek, matte black ride, close to the ground, could be a convertible.

“Sweet ride,” you whistled upon seeing it, and for the second time tonight, he smiled. 

“Thank you,” 

He opened the door for you, then went to the drivers side, starting the engine as you gave him directions.

The ride was silent, aside from the ambience of the car noises. This night was a total bust, you’d spent half of it spaced out, and the other trying to decipher what he was thinking, and the steak wasn’t even good. You’d severely misread the room, this was most definitely not a date, and you got all dressed up for it. He must think you’re some kind of desperate loser. You finally reached your house, you bid him a good night, which he swiftly returned, and you sulked up to your apartment, removing your heels at the door and dragging your feet every step. You wiped off your makeup, took a shower, got into your pajamas and wallowed in bed while your cat sat next to you, listening to you rant. You opted to just not text him, leave the ball in his court and just go to sleep.

You missed your alarm on Saturday, groaning as you woke up to the sunlight filtering in your room, and your cat meowing at his lack of breakfast.

“M’cominnggg relax,”

You kept your eyes closed, trying to get more shut eye before a knock came at your door. Weird, considering it wasn't even noon yet. You slipped into your slippers, stumbling past your wailing companion to the door, making sure to grab a robe on the way. You rubbed the sleep out your eyes, then opened it, to find a delivery guy. He held a bouquet of flowers and a note. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Package for miss…”

“Yeah? I didn’t order anything though?” you grabbed it, looking at it funny. “Thanks,” the guy walked off, and you walked towards your kitchen island, staring at the note.

‘Dear…,

My apologies for coming off as rude, I haven’t done this in a while. If you don’t mind, I’d like a do-over whenever you’re free, if you’ll allow me, of course.

Signed, Yu.’

Well, that was certainly a change of events.

So the following Friday, you helped arrange a date. You decided on a slightly less nice restaurant, one you knew the food was great at. Truth be told, your friend’s family owned it. Simple, lots of conversation starters, and great food. You opted to just meet there at 7 for simplicity. 

You fumbled with your shoes, then grabbed your purse and headed out the door, casting a quick ‘be good’ over your shoulder. You walked over to the restaurant, trying to soothe your rapid fire nerves. The door decor jingled gently as you pushed it open, smiling at your friend's dad, who just gave you a curt nod as he continued on orders- the place was packed. You threw a glance at the clock, still 6, so you decided to cool off by helping out. Almost like muscle memory, you grabbed some finished plates off of tables, and waited a few more. The place was packed as of now, so you didn’t really have time to chit chat with her. Eventually, by the time 6:30 rolled around, you were just putting orders in when your friend walked up to you, cleaning a cup.

“Isn’t that him?” she gestured with her head outside, a very overdressed man stood staring at the ground near a nice car, holding a bouquet of tulips.

“Yep,”

“He just got here,” she mused. “Both of you are the early types. God you really are made for each other,” you elbowed her.

“I hardly know him. Should I… maybe go out and call him in? Or text him,”

“Nah. Let him come in when he’s ready,”

So you did, spent the next half an hour helping her out, wiping tables and waiting others. He, on the other hand, paced, then smoked, then sat in his car for a little, then paced again, until at 7 sharp he opened the door. You were in the back, grabbing something from the freezer when she ushered you out, all but pushing you into him.

“Hey,” you said softly, feeling underdressed as he dawned pants and a button up with a branded sweater. 

“Hey back,” he responded with a nod, trying to match your smile.

“You look great,” you said shyly, adjusting your top.

His eyes widened, and he swallowed, stumbling over his words, and ending up with a simple “Thanks,” which clearly even he wasn't satisfied with. He shoved the colorful bouquet into your face and you grinned.

“Are these for me?” you took them after he nodded, pouting at how cute this way. “Seriously, you shouldn’t have,” you gushed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole. 

A young man came over soon after, bringing you to a table in the far corner. You sat on the chair on the outside, him on the chair on the inside facing you. Bread sticks, menus and condiments decorated the table. 

You scanned the menu, and he spoke from behind his, “You also look great,”

You giggled, “Thank you,”

You placed your orders, and the waiter left. He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you leaned back, gazing out the window. He let out a hum, looking at you, then back at the restaurant with a confused look. You followed his gaze, finding nothing behind you. “Is… everything okay?”

“Perfect. Everything’s perfect,” he trailed off, clearing his throat and just now seeming to notice the bottle non alcoholic spritzer, which he made quick work of opening and pouring into the two wine glasses. He picked yours up to hand it to you, and only now did you notice the intensity of his tremor.

“You seem nervous,” you took the glass from him and he ducked his head, a small smile appearing.

“You’re not supposed to mention that,” he chuckled.

“It’s hard to ignore, I feel bad, is there anything I could do to soothe your nerves?”

“No you’re perfect- I mean it’s perfect,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m fine. It’s fine,”

“Right,”

“Right,”

A moment of silence washed over you two, and the food was delivered. You stared down at the pizza for a moment. “What’s your favorite movie?” 

He pushed a tongue into his cheek, “Where the Willows grow,” he smiled.

You raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t you write that one?”

He chuckled, giving a slight nod, raising his hands in surrender.

You whistled, “Thought you could pull a fast one on me? Jokes on you mr smart guy, I did my homework,”

“Oh yeah? Me too, miss know it all,”

You leaned closer, and so did he. “Tell me something I don’t know,”

“Mhm. I know you turned down writing for vogue,”

“Pfft, public information,” you pressed your tongue in your cheek. “I know you had a rebellious phase,”

He gasped, jaw dropping slightly before he recollected himself with a soft chuckle. “You really went for the jugular huh…” he whistled. “You didn’t happen to see any photos of that?”

“Nope. Surprisingly almost all were scrubbed clean from the internet. How fascinating,” you giggled.

“Then?”

“I have connections, pretty boy,” you winked and he made an impressed face, taking a sip of his drink. “Looks like I did more research,”

“Don’t jump the gun here,” he smirked, leaning back and gazing at you from behind his glasses. “I know that hit that was sent out on you wasn’t fake,” 

You raised your eyebrows, leaning forward a bit. “Color me impressed, where’d you learn that one?”

He mocked, “Connections,”

“Are you part of the NIS or something?” you asked, half joking, “Don’t kill me, I have a wife and kids,”

He smiled, shaking his head softly. “No. Just a really huge fan,” he leaned forward as well. “Why’d you try to make it look staged?”

“Make sure people won’t get any ideas,” you frowned.

“Smart girl,” he said with an impressed face.

You swallowed thickly, looking at his eyes, then momentarily down to the food. He moved back, leaning his head against the wall behind him, eyes snapping from behind you back down to the food. You turned around, finding nothing, feeling creeped out.

“Can I ask you… a personal question?” He said, looking at his hands. Which were using a fork and knife to cut his pizza. How posh.

“Shoot,”

“What’s your favorite color?” he deadpanned, you gave an incredulous look till a hint of a smile appeared on his face.

“A little deep for a first date, no?”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “It’s a must,”

You gestured to your outfit, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Good choice,”

“What’s yours?” you humoured him.

“I don’t think I have one,”

“Oh,” you pursed your lips, “Then why’d you ask?”

“Good conversation starter,” he shrugged.

You nodded slowly, “Sooo, do you have any siblings?”

He smiled, “Stop asking me questions you know the answer to,”

“Fair, but still,”

“Fine I’ll bite, I’m an only child,”

“Makes a lot of sense,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you giggled. “Guess you’re just very… formal,”

“That’s code for weird isn’t it?” he dropped his head and you kicked him gently under the table.

“You’re a little weird, but in a nice way,”

He rolled his eyes playfully, “Thanks,” His eyes landed on another table and he furrowed his brows, this time you scoffed.

“Did you come here to finish me off or something?” you turned around fully, narrowing your eyes to try to find what seemed to distract him so much. Finally, you caught it.

“Have they been there the whole time?” you asked and he nodded. You sighed heavily, turning to face him then getting up, “One moment,” you stormed over before he could stop you, snatching the newspaper from your friend, who wore a fake mustache.

You whisper-yelled, “What gives?!”

“Just making sure you’re fine!” she matched your tone.

A cough from behind you alerted you that her dad was also doing the same. You went back to the table, fumbling in your purse for the tab when Yu grabbed your hand, “What’re you doing?”

“Paying. Since apparently privacy doesn’t exist here,” 

He got up, “I got it,”

“No i insis-”

“I got it.” he said firmly, effectively shutting you up. He walked over, scanned his card, you grabbed your purse and flowers before leaving.

The fallen leaves on the sidewalk crunched against both of your shoes. You still simmered inside from her little stunt, and he wore a very uncomfortable look.

“Listen I’m really sorry about them,”

“Who are they?”

“Family friends,” you sighed, “Didn’t realise they were watching,”

He stared at you for a while before breaking into a fit of laughs, “Oh my god, I thought you were being stalked or something. I was a moment away from calling the cops,”

You giggled too, trying to hide your embarrassment. He continued, “It’s kind of sweet though, if I was a serial killer that would've been handy,”

“You wouldn’t have killed me in the middle of the store,”

“No. I would’ve invited you back to my apartment and done it there,”

You were nearing a park when you finally worked up the courage to slide your hands into his, “How romantic,”

He hesitated, then squeezed your hand, still wearing a stupid little smile. You nudged his shoulder and he tilted his head slightly.

“This is a date right?” you teased and he shrank slightly, glancing at his shoes.

“I really messed it up the first time huh,” he pouted.

“This can just be our first time,”

“That’s not how that works,”

“Who’s counting anyways? Plus the flowers you sent were pretty cute,”

“You think?” he said under his breath, trying to suppress an even wider smile.

“Yeah. My cat really liked them as well,”

He made an ‘aww’ face, “You have a cat?”

“Yes!” you giggled, “he’s the cutest little thing ever,”

“How fitting,” he smiled and you bit your lip, looking away from him. “Has he got a name?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied. “He’s a rescue,”

“Ah, you’re a pretty moral person then,”

“I try,” 

“What breed is he?”

“Ah I forgot the name, one of those expensive ones,”

“Persian? Ragdoll? Short hair?” 

You were cut off when a frisbee came flying at the two of you, almost hitting him in the head but he dodged. A dog ran past you both, a huge one, like a german shepherd or husky, in search of the frisbee, effectively knocking you into him. He stopped you from falling, watching the dog owner with a disappointed glare. The man called out a half hearted apology, and you stood up straight. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded, “Yep,”

“How about dessert?” 

You huffed, “You’re a bad influence on me, I’m already full,”

“Come on I’m sure you have room for something sweet,”

You both walked over to his car, he opened the door for you and you sat on the maroon leather seats.

“It’s still impressive every time,” you mused as he entered, starting the engine with a shrug.

“My dad and I worked on this one when I was a teenager,”

“No shot,” you scoffed. “It’s ridiculously nice. Didn’t peg you as a car guy though,”

“I’m not, he is, but it got me working with my hands,”

“Ah so you’re like a crafty person?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Moment there’s hot glue involved I fail. I like mechanical work though.”

“Like… changing tires?”

“Do you know a single person who likes changing tires?”

“You maybe,”

“No, I don’t like changing tires. I do like upgrading cars though,”

“Despite not being a car guy,”

“Despite not being a car guy, yes,”

He pulled into a parking lot of a quaint little 24/7 type shop that sold all kinds of processed goodies.

“This is quite the contrast to where we were last time,” you hummed, stepping out of the car, lacing your hands with his again. This time he reciprocated with more confidence.

“Food’s good here, they’ve got good snacks,”

“Aren’t you like a billionaire? Don’t you have like fancy butlers in your house to get you food?” he shook his head in mock annoyance, opening the glass door and letting you in first.

“I’m not like a billionaire, I am a billionaire,”  you scoffed and he chuckled, “Plus, no fancy anything could ever compare to these,” he grabbed a soda for himself, then one for you.

“So a trust fund baby. How’d you know it was my favorite?” you furrowed your eyebrows, taking the vanilla drink.

“Thought we already established I did my homework,” he pressed the cold drink into your arm playfully, which made you squirm away from him. “Is that all you see me as?”

“No,” you said on the way to the register, he grabbed a heart shaped cake. “Sorry, used to being able to slip insults in when talking to the upper bracket,”

“And they just let you?”

“Well to be fair they likely miss it, or maybe they let it slide I don’t really know,”

“Makes sense…”

You raised an eyebrow, he grabbed the plastic bag and stared at you with a small smile, continuing, “If such a pretty girl insulted me I’d also let it go,” he walked past you, and you stared at his back as he left, then caught up to him.

“Smooth,” unmistakably so, his cheeks bore a reddened color.

Outside, you struggled a bit to open your soda, considering the cold made you lose your dexterity, so he offered to help. As he came to hand you back your drink, he miscalculated the pass, and it slipped, spilling directly on you. You gasped, and his jaw fell.

He immediately retracted his hand, switching between covering his mouth and stumbling words.

“I’m so sorry,” he finally got to, slipping his sweater off to give to you, leaving him in a button up.

You overcame the shock finally, and laughed, which made him falter. 

“It’s fine, no big deal,” you replied, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“No, I should've been more careful,” he shook his head, pulling the sweater over your head, and smiling when you peaked at him. He helped you slip your arms into the respective armholes, then tugged it to straighten it on you.

“It was an honest mistake,”

“Still, I’m really sorry, it was a nice dress,”

“Washing machines exist,” You made a show of putting a hand on your hip, “How does it look?”

“Cute,” he said simply, maintaining his proximity to you.

Perhaps you two would have kissed, had the rain not began to pour in buckets on the street, making you both sigh in annoyance.

“There goes our plans,”

He stared off for a moment, “I live right there… if you’d like to maybe…” he continued the sentence under his breath.

“Wow. Was this all some kind of ploy to take me back to your house? Is this rain even real?” you teased, and his face reddened.

“No I just-”

“And why? Does your car not work in the rain?” you poked his side- he looked like a kicked puppy. “I’d love to,” you responded before the man burst into flames.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, then nodded, “My car’s allergic to water,” he joked.

A short little run to a huge door later, you were in a spacious lobby to a complex. Your heels clicked and clacked against the marble ground, clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin. 

You held your arms close to your body, shivering at the blaring AC while he led you to the elevator. 

A man in black holding a pistol in his hand, wearing sunglasses in doors and an earpiece stood near the elevator, no doubt security personnel.

“Mr Yu,” the man ducked his head, and Yu matched his greeting. You remained invisible, a nice change of pace anyways. 

The elevator dinged, and a small old woman emerged, doused in branded clothing and expensive accessories. She stared at the drenched floors, then up to you both. Stepping out of the elevator, she held her umbrella close to her body, looking furious. 

“What if someone slips?!” she yelled, swatting Yu’s arm with the umbrella. He chuckled slightly and she turned to the guard as you both entered the elevator, “He brings one woman around all of a sudden he’s all rebellious,” she tsked, then turned back to you both as the elevator closed, giving you a once over. “No sleepovers,” she said just as the doors shut.

You blinked at the wall for a few moments, Yu scanning his keycard to take you up to the twentieth floor. You stood side by side, unmoving, until finally, you started to laugh, and so did he. 

“Who is that?” you said between giggles.

“My neighbour,” he replied, recovering his composure.

“She’s so cute,”

“She’s a lot of things alright,” he scoffed, and you pinched his arm.

The elevator dinged open, and you entered his apartment, still sopping wet. He set the cake down on the kitchen island, then gestured for you to follow him to his room. The entire walk you couldn’t help but gape at the sheer size of the rooms in his house, you weren’t poor by any means, but this was another level of rich. His room was down the hall, to the right, the door was ajar. He pushed it open, the epitome of neat. Perhaps he had orchestrated it so you’d come over. 

“Wow,” you stepped in after him, marvelling at how minimalist it was. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a hotel. Sleek design of black on red, with abstract paintings and a huge window wall. He slid his closet door open, pulling out sweat pants and a hoodie, then turning to you. 

“Here,” he smiled, and you took them gratefully.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly. He stepped out to give you privacy to change, and you drew the curtains shut. You heard the door of another room shut, likely that he’s also switching to dry clothing.

You peeled the wet clothes off of your body, replacing them with the warm clean ones he offered, shuddering as the air touched your skin. Once dressed, you inspected yourself in his floor length mirror, making sure you looked semi presentable before cracking the door open slightly. You stepped out experimentally, poking your head into his living room. You were momentarily distracted by quite the gem on the wall, a family photo above his fireplace. You took hesitant steps, stopping just in front of it.

There he was, no older than twelve years old, in between two very serious looking individuals. He looked so cute, in his little oversized glasses covering his innocent face.

“What’re you doing?” you jolted at the sound of his voice, turning to see him drying his hair with a towel, looking at you inquisitively. 

You struggled to find the words, feeling like you were caught red handed, “Sorry, came to look for you and saw this,” you turned to it again as he stood next to you. “It’s a very sweet photo,” you whispered softly.

You both just stared at it for a while, and you could see the contemplative look on his face through the glass reflection of the picture frame. He turned to you, offering a clean towel for your hair, then pulling you away wordlessly towards the kitchen.

You sat on opposite sides of the counter, him opening the plastic box to allow you to eat. So, with your forks, you ate quietly for a while, the soft ambience of the outside world drowning out your inhibitions.

“Yu,” you said with utmost care. He hummed non commitantly. “You don’t have a roommate or anything right?” you trailed a finger down the marble countertop.

He shot you a confused look. “No, I live alone,” he said slowly.

“RIght… right..” you responded, glancing back at the rooms. He followed your gaze, still just chewing. “So no one would disturb us,” your voice dripped with what you hoped came across as seduction. Maybe this was a little forward, but so was being in his apartment, in his clothes, at this hour. 

“...What?”

“Oh… you know… no one would hear us…” you secretly hoped he’d just get the hint.

He did not, instead now looking adequately disturbed, “Why?” He leaned back a fraction of a centimeter, not so discreetly trying to make sure you’re unarmed.

The look that crossed your face must have been so concerned that it alarmed him.

“Is there… something you want to say?” he asked, through a very poor attempt at a poker face.

“No… nothing,” you took a bite of cake to balm the sting.

“Did you wanna… do something?”

That made you perk up, and you nodded. He nodded too, “Like… watch a movie?”

Oh you sweet summer child. “Movie sounds great,” you said through gritted teeth.

One movie, containing the wrong kind of action, later, he offered you a ride home, which you graciously accepted. He had dried off your dress from earlier, and you wore it again, thanking him profusely for the change on the elevator ride down while he apologised again for messing your dress up. The ride home this time was filled with chatter, and giggles, and reminiscing of this date and the last one, which you dubbed a business meeting. He parked in front of the building, and walked you to the entrance of your apartment complex.

“So this is my stop,” you smiled, and he let out a long, awkward, breath of air.

“I had a great time tonight,” he started, “And I’m sorry again about your dress, and last time,”

“Again, water under the bridge,” you stepped forward a little, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Plus, you kind of already made it up to me,” he chuckled. “Tonight was wonderful, thank you for the flowers.. And the food.. And the company,”

You stared at each other for a while, wedged in place, both faces painted with smiles.

“Good night,” he said through half lidded eyes.

You leaned in without thinking, kissing him on the cheek. “Good night, Yu,”

..

By this point, you’d gotten pretty comfortable around each other, 2 years is a long time.

You’d finally, finally, found a worthy thing to talk about, a scandal involving mistreatment of staff by a particular director. He was notorious for being a billionaire playboy, but behind closed doors it appears he’d been sued frequently for abuse of power and creating a hostile workplace. You knew him, of course, you’d interviewed him time and time again, allowed all his remarks about you to slide in order to stay professional. You spent a while working on smaller projects to give yourself adequate time to really flesh out the story, find sources and under the table witnesses. It cost your agency a hefty sum, but they knew the payout would be massive.

It was another one of those late night writing sessions, propped up on your kitchen counter, sipping on a juice box while writing out some notes. Your door opened, you craned your head, casting Philip a smile.

“Hey babe,” he grinned as he entered, giving your cat a little poke as he passed into your kitchen, only stopping to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Hey,” you responded, “Didn’t know you’d be coming over tonight,”

“Needed a change of pace,” he grumbled, undoing his tie and the top two buttons. “I’m going crazy,”

“Don’t do that,” you giggled, he joined you by sitting on a stool next to you.

“Whatcha working on?” he lit a cigarette, casting you a sheepish look through his eyelashes, “Sorry,”

“Just make sure to open the window,” you rolled your eyes, “An article,”

“No shot,” he rolled his eyes, offering you a hit. You accepted. “What kind of article? About what?”

“Do you remember ‘anchor’?”

“Anchor?” he kissed his lips, “The bald director guy?”

“Ding ding ding,” you exhaled the smoke, passing it to him again. “He’s been involved in a lot of major controversies recently, for some reason completely untouched by the media,”

He messed with the waistband of your pants absentmindedly, “Don’t you think there might be a reason for that?”

“Absolutely. Money,”

“Not just that. Tell me you’re not writing an article about a man who won’t hesitate before ending your career, and then you,” he rubbed his forehead.

You shrugged, “I’ve done worse. Besides, he’s a really crappy person,”

“If you die you better come back to haunt me,” he joked, getting up and killing his cigarette in the sink, then kissing your forehead. 

“Done deal,” you watched him scoop your cat up in one hand.

The cat meowed in protest, and he meowed back, flopping down on your couch. You could see him from here, holding the little feline up in air jail.

“Why do I have to end up with the one girl that has a death wish?” he asked ‘muffin’ dramatically, who meowed in agreement. “You’re right. She’s reckless. And when she inevitably bites the dust for messing with the wrong people I’m donating you to science,”

“PHILIP YU,”

…

The closer you got to the deadline, the more anxious you became, trying your best to perfect every detail down to the synonyms. Yu became more distant as the time grew, but you chalked it up to cumulative stress from his job and parents. You were just fixing up your final draft in your office, deciding on a title when he walked in holding a brown paper bag. He closed the door behind him, avoiding your prying eyes.

“Well this is a surprise,” you mused, inspecting the bag, which contained a singular cupcake in it, “not unwelcome though,” you took it out, humming at the chocolatey flavor. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He forced a smile, sitting down opposite you, “Can we talk for a moment?”

“If it’s bad news maybe let's talk later? I’m about to finally send this in,” you smiled, he shook his head.

“Don’t… send it in, yet at least,”

You stared at him for a moment, he didn't speak. “Yu…”

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you. The meetings I’ve been attending… have actually been with anchor.”

Your eyebrows shot up, he resumed. “I know you’re not entirely fond of him, but he’s presenting me with an opportunity I can’t decline,” his shoulders slumped. “You know how hard it’s been trying to get back in the scene.”

“He’s going to exploit you,” you dropped your voice an octave. “He’ll suck you dry from ideas and take all the credit Phil this is a bad idea,”

“I don’t have another choice!”

“Okay…” you sighed. “Okay.” you stared down at your computer, then the cupcake, then up at him. “Wait a minute, are you asking me not to expose him?”

He gave a singular nod. “I know this is really crappy of me,” you stood up, and he matched it, putting his arms up in surrender. “He told me he loved my concepts, but by association with you and your article people will be more inclined to believe your gossip because they’d think you got it from me,”

“My gossip?” you scoffed, rounding the table to stand face to face. “This gossip is what kept me afloat, is what allowed victims to come forth with their stories, it’s my job!”

“And this is mine!”

He stood up, matching your offensive stance, “You know how important this is for me- this is huge!”

“I put in weeks of effort into this!”

“Please,” his voice broke, arms grabbing your shoulder,  face inches from yours. “I need this,”

You pushed his arms off of you, scoffing loudly. “I need this! I’m tired of reporting small town news,”

“Just a little while longer and the-”

“No! You’re not thinking clearly!” you stomped your foot loudly, in the fashion of a tantrum. “You go into this deal it’s a lose-lose situation,”

“Who loses here?”

“You lose to his claws, and I lose work that I lost sleep over,”

“You’ll find something else, he’s not a bad guy-”

You swiped your hands down your face, sniffing, “Phillip have you listened to a single thing I’ve ever said about him or did you just tune me out?”

“I listened,” he crossed his arms.

“DId you hear how he’s a master manipulator? Sued countless times over for misconduct? Known for producing a hostile work environment? Preying on trusting people? Did you hear me say all those things, and cite my sources?”

He sighed, staying quiet and staring at the ground. His eyes glistened.

You licked your lips, “Listen-”

“No you listen,” he said, meeting your gaze firmly. “If you post this article….” he stared at the ceiling, keeping his tears at bay, “We’re done,”

It was so quiet in there, you were sure he could hear your heartbeat. “Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“I- I mean it.”

“You’re dumping me because of… a producer?”

“Director, and not because of him, it’s the prin-”

“Get out,”

A/N: UGH okay this took literal ages because A- uni's been a major pain and B- lost interest in the story. Oops. anyways, enjoy this, the ride's almost over!!Taglist:

@entr4p3 @vlurdao @sweet1squash

[the-moon-files]

Waaaa, I LOVE your writing for Linked Universe! >w< I've never thought about the trope of humans as space orcs, but I love it now djfngd- If you don't mind me asking, is there anything that the reader might be weak to (comedic or otherwise)? Or is he basically indestructible/immune to a lot of things?

sorry for late reply!! ;-; thank u sm for saying that abt my writing, and yess yesss my humans v hylians au agenda is spreading lets gooo!!!

(bro u know ur desperate for gifs when ur making ur own atp jfc 💀)

Sun: Guide!Reader, Masc Male Reader (he/him)

Orbit: LONG AS HELL Headcanons-ish, Humans are not hylians AU

Stars: Classic Chain of Links, not specific

Comets & Meteors: CWs: mild cussing, typical Loz violence, weight is mentioned as a weakness/detriment,

& TWs: Possible weight trigger, reader is described as heavy and weight has a negative impact on environment, but in a way thats meant to convey they "weigh more" bc theyre human in comparison to hylians/hylian built things ( for ex: hylians are hollow boned compared to humans).

Please stop reading at line "alright thats all for sleeping for rn, i could keep going but i wanna get to weight issue a little bit even tho ive got less for it" if you want to avoid explicit details of this.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so I could see this being both crack and angst fuel tbh

ive talked abt this somewhat on other posts/asks, but figured i could really get into all the potential weaknesses over here since ive gotten a lot of ideas abt it!

so a quick list of things ive thought of that could be weaknesses, both based on like, if this were a “video game to real world” format for us, coming from earth, and other junk ill explain

in no particular order, some weakness ideas ive had (or other anons tbh!):

weight, much heavier than Links/avg hylian (sink to bottom when swimming/cant ride their horses/cant be carried out when hurt/sick/etc.)

slow healing when u do get injured, compared to quick healing hylians who can just eat food to get better quicker

magic absorption (too much juice, body not accustomed, get sick, like eating too much magic food/using too much of magic tools/weapons)

or magic negation (cant get healed by magic, for ex: if a dragon is all magic, then u cant ride it, or if food is magical u cant eat it)

easy to get sick (new environment/ppl/area/etc.)

fall damage (tho greater height) is still applicable

hylians dont have the same pack-bonding/affection/social needs as humans, like how Wild + most Links could do their whole adventure by themselves, rarely talking to anyone, if you’ve ever seen the survival show “Alone”, one of the first things that get them to quit isnt the terrain/little food (tho thats usually next), its the fact they get lonely and miss their spouses/family/friends, sad af, youd have to assault the links for attention and hope ur not annoying the fuck outta them all the time 😭😭

stamina, ur stuck w/whatever u had before getting whisked away (for example: u just have to hope ur immune to guardian beams bc u may not be able to outrun one 💀, or just bc u can swim against the tide doesnt mean u can do so for very long, depending on ur stamnia)

not rlly a weakness, but u having a different perception of what’s “too little” clothing compared to the medieval time period hylians lmao

needing more sleep than hylians, from how in game they either outright dont need sleep, can go with only a few hours and fight Ganon, or other nonsense around sleeping, ACTUALLY also hylians being able to sleep anywhere in any position, whereas u need a good 8-9 hours every night to function normally (u cant rlly take shifts at night w/o getting fucked) and u also need a half-decent sleeping bag/not hardass ground to sleep on w/o getting morning dew soaking u thru (ive been on many misadventures camping, so i could rlly get into it when it comes to wilderness camping yall, like im not high maintenance but there are def some bare minimum things u need to function in the wild, trust me guys, its a thing/pet peeve of mine to get into how a 10 person constant camping trip would acc function 💀)

if you’ve got any other ideas, pls comment them or shoot an ask my way! these were all i could think of for rn

so im just gonna pick the ones ive expanded the least on in other posts, like the sleeping thing, weight thing, and im abt to do another ask (🥺<33) abt the human culture v hylian thing so thatll do for now

SO to continue the rlly long sleep weakness (srry)

to my credit, ive been tent camping pretty frequent in past couple years, with either my sibling, or sib and a friend, in the ruralness of our homestate (we’re in southern part of US)

like as a quick rundown of my creditable-ness, bc im sure ur like “moon. nobody cares what u have to say, ur prob chronically online bro” nah, dude, read this bs:

U can skip this if u just trust me, this is just a mildly entertaining lore dump of mine for proof i know anything at all abt tent camping:

for ref, ive: slept all night in a hammock w/a sheet bc the air mattress deflated/was sleeping on the ground otherwise which is borderline impossible to do even when exhausted ive found out, a lightning storm rolled in, i just kept sleeping, had to pack up tent in middle of the night bc it slowly got flooded bc rain got into tent, had to park on a random overgrown country road (no GPS) to car-camp for the night bc no campsite was found, have had to constantly put up tent in complete darkness bc its very hard to get my sibling and me to a campsite when theres still daylight for some reason?? lol, began to worry for hypothermia when we camped near mountains bc it got too cold to tent camp, had to intensely cuddle for warmth w/friend in truck bed, while sib was inside the car and still couldnt get warm, and it was so cold even then that it kept waking us up until we left at like 4-5am bc it got light enough for us to see to drive away 💀

ANYWAY, now that ive gotten my obligatory “i touch grass” out of the way,

(and also i def plan to use these experiences as future fic scenes, so easter egg if u read this then my fics later lmao)

sleeping is literally the first issue u gotta deal w/in going constant camping w/these guys lmao

and u bet ur ass they all find it kinda funny that u need such specific sleeping stuff when ur nigh indestructible the rest of the time

but its honest to god not even that much, it just is for hylians

so they can just sleep on rocks, flat ground, tree roots, u name it these crazy elves can do it, esp since the Links r adventurers so im sure theyre better at it than normal hylians

they dont need a tent, they barely need sleeping bags, bc the cold hard ground is legit their home 💀

the only reason they have padding at all is bc theyre more sensitive to temperature than u, so theyre more bundled up on breezy nights/for morning dew chill time

(which u found to ur horror they just dont put anything down but like a sheet when its warm weather, mostly for keeping dirt off them)

meanwhile ur like?? get a tent??? we have Wild’s slate to store it we dont even have to carry it????

and bc theyre made for hylians, the tents just like a ceiling w/poles 💀

ur out here like, “bro this would keep u more warm if there were yknow, walls. and a floor.”

which u then have to force the combined skills of Legend, Wild and Four to help u make a real tent

Legend has absolutely taken to calling you Sleeping Beauty/Princey bc of this, and the fact that u have to layer like 2 sleeping bags to not feel rocks on ur back (bc they only need it for warmth not cushioning, its thinner than human made ones)

u also have to force Time + Wars to acknowledge that u guys needs to put the tent on flat ground, and cant just sprawl out over a bunch of tree roots goddamit-

when u first learn what the watch schedule is, it sounds like actual hell.

each shift is like 4 hours, and everyone is awake and ready to go at like 5 or 6 am (the 6am is for teh Links that “sleep in” 💀)

and thats putting them at going to sleep at like 11 or midnight, bc hylians need way less sleep than ur human ass,

which the poor said hylians also find out the hard way when they go to wake the single human man on their team up, and u just outright cuss them out, hit the nearest link, rain hell on them + seem like ur drunk to them?? then just go back to sleep???

and theyre all like “wtf just happened to our guide, he’s usually so nice??”

only to realize after u all have a sit down abt the sleeping differences issues, after what theyre calling “The Sleeping Guide Incident” 💀

hylians snap awake only a few minutes after being awake (like how in SS/Oot/Botw etc u can be a little sleepy but game mechanics let u get up pretty quick)

and u need more sleep, so they just adjust and know now u need whatever u can get tbh, so ur not allowed to go on night shifts,

along w/being allowed to ride on Epona + get piggy back sleep on a Link if they rlly need to move and u havent gotten all ur required sleep yet

(tho u do try and compensate by going to sleep earlier)

(they would never tell u but, they lowkey fight/rock paper scissors who gets to carry u in the morning, Wind is the ref lol)

also hylians can sleep like a rock thru most anything, along w/this adventure which easily keeps u tired so ur ready to knock out every night,

this is why its important for someone to take watch, bc i think unless they outright get hit by a monster/shaken by another hylian, most links dont get up when sleeping no matter what

which makes sense, if theyre going to sleep so little, they prob need as much uninterrupted sleep as possible,

but just bc they can sleep thru lynel stomping doesnt mean u can, which is another adjustement they make when they choose a place to sleep at night, making sure its not a loud spot or smth, and bc u now have to sleep earlier to keep up w/their early ass times,

when the Links are all chilling around camp, they make sure to keep pretty quiet so u can sleep well <3

alright thats all for sleeping for rn, i could keep going but i wanna get to weight issue a little bit even tho ive got less for it

i mentioned it in other posts that hylians are lighter than humans, but i mostly focused on it going one way if that makes sense? like now im taking it in the way of like Humans are heavier than hylians, if that makes more sense??

u cant ride horses, at least not for very long lmao

same goes for loftwings, if u can even get on for any amount of time, bc they presumably have hollow bones so theyd be even more sensitive to ur weight than horses

omg when it comes to puzzles, and theres like weights involved, u absolutely get used as an additional weight, both bad and good tbh

bc im familiar w/botw im using it as a base, but like how shrines need a metal box or two to put on buttons to weigh them down, but it gets tricky, or u dont have one right away, Wild just uses you 💀

like u need some exact amount of metal things for this one scale puzzle, and instead u just, sit on it to sink it all the way down so the Link on the other side can reach the platform LMAO

omg the amount of battles that could just be won bc u used ur body weight against a monster lol

THE SCENE OF U AND A HINOX SQUARING UP TO LIKE SUMO WRESTLE AND U WIN W/UR WEIGHT LMAOO

just run at a lynel, dodging arrows, and just like, successfully full-body tackle it bc it feels like it has the same weight as a large dog, like a husky or smth 💀

u act like a bomb when u throw urself off cliffs bc u dont get fall damage easy, so u can manage like a ten-story building drop u found out w/o a scratch, but u cause a crater around u bc of ur impact lmao

Wild/Wind/Rulie/Legend are all having the time of their lives having u cannonball into the ground next to monster camps bc ur just a human bomb atp

kno this was less weakness focused but heres one more rough weakness of it,

u all have to be VERY careful around bridges or thin strips of land, or like crossing tree branches, etc. w/you bc ur weight may make it not possible cross w/o ridiculously being this single human person bringing an entire bridge down 💀

think the only way u could fix this glaring issue is if u outright jumped across, which even tho ur basically superpowered bc ur so strong here so youd have to fuck up pretty bad to not make it,

poor boys get worried sick anyway and try to avoid bridges if they can, they only trust ones that are like stone built up from the ground to carry you

this also sucks when its like a rope bridge across like a huge gap or like a small valley or smth, bc not only do u not have a landing spot in the immediate area, but now u have to reroute until u can find a spot that lets u basically jump across the gap lmao

on one hand, the Chain r still anxious letting u go alone to sometimes find that different route, but also if anyone went w/u youd just have to piggyback them while doing that, and its not like theyd be that helpful besides moral support maybe lmao

but u dont mind that and none of them can stand being seperated from u w/o knowing at least one Link is w/u, so u usually go ahead and piggyback Wind or Four (one of the lightest) find a route and leap ur way to the other side lol

u also found out the hard way that ur weight affects hylian made buildings, bc they can be made out of not as dense/strong woods, like especially things like floors/beds/chairs/etc stuff that would be made to take hylian weight

the absolute insanity the first time u guys went to an inn, and u crushed both the steps leading into the inn, a barstool, a chair, and later that night ur bedframe just from gently laying on it 💀

the innkeeper realized and re-arranged so u guys were on first floor so u wouldnt have to go up steps, and was luckily very understanding abt u being a different weightier race (Time and you still tipped him rupees to help pay for damage 😭)

u had to literally go back outside to sleep bc u were worried if u slept on the floor it slowly break overnight LMAO

but Wind/Wild/Four/Rulie/Twi were all sweet enough to come w/you to sleep outside too lol (they were more nature inclined anyway, even tho u insisted they take advantage of the beds)

this was also absolutely hilarious for the others to wake up to in the morning, bc Time/Wars/Sky/Legend had already gone to bed,

so they just walk out the inn, all confused why the innkeeper just pointed outside when they asked where the others went, and they jsut open the front door (w/still broken steps bc u had to exit 💀)

to see u guys camped out on the lawn ASHFDFL

☆

😃. well that got out of hand, and its getting late for me so I may have 10x the amount of spelling/grammar mistakes more than usual, and it may have completely lost the plot in some points so-!

i hope that was smth for u to at least chew on anon, and sorry i overdid it jfccc

have a great rest of ur week anon, and tysm for the ask!! :D

comments/commentary in tags/feeback at all keep me alive, so pls leave one w/whatever u think!!

Peace out,

🌙

[asha-mage]

Edelgard and Byleth / mercy

[Send me a fandom, character, or pairing and a one word prompt and I'll write a quick drabble for you!]

When Edelgard rode into the camp she found a gibbet had been raised in the center.

Two bodies hung from it, and had been hanging long enough that crows had begun to perch nearby and a faint smell was wafting towards her with the wind. She could recognize them as Imperial soldiers from their uniforms, and from the way the other soldiers pointedly avoided looking at the gibbet, their eyes sliding past their dead comrades, it was clear something had happened.

For a moment Edelgard just considered leaving the matter be. She was only passing through, checking on Byleth’s campaign to subdue the Alliance holdouts before continuing on to Derdriu for a summit with what remained of the Roundtable. She trusted Byleth, but more importantly she trusted his judgement- which was a rare thing for her. There were many people who would walk shoulder to shoulder into battle with. There were precious few she could  hand an Imperial writ to and not worry that they would make a mess of things. If Byleth was hanging people, she trusted that he had good cause.

But, she was not just a sister or a friend or a student. She was an Emperor. Maybe she was more an Emperor these days than anything else. If executions were being carried out in her name, then she had a duty to make sure they were just.

Dismounting she tossed her reins to one of the attendants and gave brisk orders for the mounts to be fed and curried, then marched off to find the command tent. She had not arrived in style and pomp- she preferred to go without that when she could since it let her see more of Fodlan as it truly was instead of the face her subjects would wish their Emperor to see- so no one was there to greet and squire her about. Most of the soldiers probably didn’t even recognize her as anything but another noble, or maybe an imperial official, given her well made but not particularly fine coat and britches. 

She didn’t need a guide though. Byleth always set up his camps in the same way, and locating his command tent was easy as finding her old classroom in the Monastery would have been.

Byleth’s personal guards- one and all former mercenaries that had served under Jeralt before joining the Empire with Byleth- did recognize her, and stood up straighter as she passed, not bothering to challenge her approach. That wasn’t because she was Emperor- the guards would have demanded the Goddess herself halt and explain her business with General Eisner. Edelgard was just on the short list of five people who Byleth had given standing orders to be allowed through no matter what.

She found him at his writing desk, scratching away at something while occasionally looking up to check the map spread out before him. It showed the region and tiny flags marked what she suspected were hold out lords. Fewer than she had expected- which meant Byleth had been more efficient then she or Hubert had hoped. That would strengthen her hand in Derdriu significantly.

“You're missing Lady Lur.” Edelgard said, pulling up a chair beside Byleth to peer more closely at the map.

“Lady Lur swore fealty two weeks ago.” Byleth said without looking up from his letter. He gave no show of surprise at her presence, even though she hadn’t sent word ahead she would be dropping in on him. She doubted anything had ever surprised Byleth.

“Really? I was under the impression she was an ideologue. Not a opportunist.” Edelgard had expected that Lur would rather go to the headsmen then bend the knee- which was frustrating since it would mean bad blood with her son, who was popular with the common folk and would make a good resource in the region if he could be turned.

“She was.” Byleth agreed, glancing up at the map again then back down at his letter. “Then she got word that her son had become our ‘guest’ at the Monastery. She was willing to give her own life for the cause- her son’s less so.”

Edelgard nodded thoughtfully. “How did you manage that?”

“The boy challenged me to a duel to the death for his mother’s honor.” Byleth said simply. “I spared him and shipped him to Gareg Mhach- where he’ll remain until we can be sure his mother isn’t a threat.”

“So snot nosed noble brats get your mercy, but soldiers of the Empire do not?” Edelgard asked, making her voice sharp. Byleth looked up at her, and blinked in confusion.

“What? Oh.” He sighed, setting his quill aside as it dawned on him. “The scouts.”

Edelgard nodded, making herself stern and iron hard. She was the Emperor now, interacting with her most powerful General. Not a sister stopping by to see her brother. “The scouts.” She confirmed. “What did they do?”

“They lied.” He said simply, turning his chair to face her. Edelgard waited. Byleth said nothing more.

“They lied.” She repeated after the silence had grown uncomfortable.

He nodded.

“Last I checked.” Edelgard said, her voice tight. “Lying was not a capital offense.”

Byleth frowned. “You know better than that. I taught you better than that.”

Edelgard hesitated. One of Byleth’s more succinct lessons regarding warfare had been about scouts. The skills that make a good scout and the skills that make a good thief are one in the same. You can get a thief to train a scout and hope they won't pick up thieving, or you can train a scout from scratch and hope for the best. But it's easier to just empty a prison of horse thieves, chicken stealers, and smugglers then promise them their lives and three square meals a day in exchange for becoming scouts. You have to be crystal clear from the beginning- one lie, one single lie, and they will hang and be left for the birds. Battles and wars alike can be lost for the lies of a scout. Moreover, a lot of innocent people can get killed that way. So if you ever find out one has lied to you, you make an example and follow through on your threat. It’s the only way.

“What did they lie about?” Edelgard asked, settling back.

“A merchant caravan offered them a bribe to not tell me they were passing south of here.” Byleth said simply. It’s Byleth’s standing orders that all merchant caravans his soldiers came across would be escorted to back camp before being sent on their way- both so he could replenish supplies and to ensure they went away from where they might carry word to the enemy he was fighting, or else get caught in the crossfire. “They accepted, but of the group of three- two followed through and lied and one told me anyway.”

“What did you do to the one that-” She didn’t want to say ratted out his fellows, even if that was the truth. “-came clean?”

Byleth blinked. “Nothing? Why would I do anything to him? He told the truth.”

Edelard exhaled. She knew it was useless to point out that he had also taken a bribe. Byleth didn’t care about that. A scout’s job was to report the truth. The rat had done it. That was the end of the matter as far as Byleth was concerned. It was the same logic that had kept him from just saying they took a bribe and reported false information to their commander, when she had asked why they had been hung. Byleth just didn’t see the world that way.

“What a lucky man to have a merciful commander.” Edelgard said standing.

“It’s not mercy.” Byleth said quietly. “The scouts need to keep each other honest. I’m just encouraging that. This is how you win wars.”

Edelgard walked over to the pitcher of water on the table and poured herself a glass. “Most commanders would have sent him to the whipping post even though he was honest.” She said calmly.

“Most commanders are bad at winning wars.” Byleth responded dryly. “What would be the point? To prove my power? Everyone beneath my command already knows my power. To instill fear? Two corpses do that far better than a lashed man, and give less fertile ground for resentment to take root. It’s the same with Lady Lur’s son.”

“Not mercy.” Edelgard mused. “Pragmatism.”

Byleth nodded. “Just so. Mercy must be for no other reason than itself, or it isn’t really mercy. Mercy is what I gave Flayn and Seteth. Or what you gave to Dimitri at Tailtean. Other choices might have served us better- but we chose what would be better for them over that.”

The air turned brittle and frigid in the tent suddenly. Byleth had not changed his tone of voice. Had not even recognized that his words might strike a different note. That too, was just not how he saw the world.

“....Do you really think what I did at Tailtean was mercy?” Edelgard asked quietly, staring into her cup.

“I do.” Byleth said without hesitation. “He would have been more valuable as a prisoner. But he would have suffered more greatly, and worse if he had lived to see the kingdom fall. You released him from pain. It was all you could do for him.”

Edelgard felt the urge to laugh. “You say these things with such confidence and simplicity. As if they are facts from our textbook.” I am so grateful for that.

Byleth turned back to his letter. “They are facts. Maybe not from a textbook. But they are facts. Be a mercenary long enough and you see the world as it truly is eventually. Or you die.” He allowed with a shrug. “Most think that makes me cold. Stone hearted. Ashenly demonic.” He chuckled hollowly at that. “But the business of killing people has made me…clear eyed about what must be, and what can be. Telling mercy from pragmatism is nothing more than that.”

Edelgard smiled. He didn’t realize how rare it was, not just that he could tell the difference, but that he still gave mercy when he could. She loved him for that.

“Well, I suppose that’s that then.” She said instead and set down her cup. “Now, tell me how the campaign is going.”

Smiling, so finally she almost couldn’t see it, Byleth gestured to the map. “Well. In two days times we’ll move north and-”

Letting his words wash over her, Edelgard nodded. In her head she was already sketching out the letter she would write to Hubert to ensure that the sum the scouts had been paid was discovered, and equivalent made its way to Byleth. She would have to make sure it couldn’t be traced back to them, or Byleth would reject it. 

But mercy and pragmatism alike, deserved to be rewarded.

[thebluestbluewords]

I’m still thinking about the machete

For reference, this is a machete. (Pic taken from the Woodland Tools Heavy Duty Machete listing). As someone who used to sell knives as my Actual Job, a machete is pretty big! It’s not impossible to hide, but it’s big. It could probably fit in a thigh holster if you’re tall, which Jay…..isn’t, or in a back holster if you’re average height. So the machete is probably in a back holster of some sort, likely worn under his vest. They were usually sold with a holster/case of some sort, often with a space to thread it on a belt, which would work if he doesn’t care about concealing it.

This is an axe. (Photo taken from an amazon listing for throwing axes. We’re assuming it’s meant as a weapon here). It’s about as long as the machete, but weighted pretty differently. When I sold knives, axes often came in a plastic clamshell, while most of the machetes we sold came in a decently nice holster. Not that you can’t make or buy an axe holster, it’s just not something I saw as often. Typically, folks aren’t carrying around an axe for bushwhacking the way you might carry a machete. They’re not necessarily un-portable, but it’s a little less easy to whip out a concealed axe.

As a third reference, I’ve taken the liberty of copying this photo of “life size Jay Descendants cardboard stand-up” and marking where I think he could fit a concealed weapon. Not necessarily a machete/axe sized weapon, but a knife or bug spray can of Decent Size. Thinking palm sized or bigger.

We’ve got:

Two obvious vest pockets. Probably pretty small, but could fit a folding knife or a small bug spray.

Vest collar. The big fold feels like a prime location for a hidden pocket. He could fit a large knife in here, or maybe a Nintendo DS.

Hat. An obvious choice for the bug spray can. Keep those bugs away and any other secret stolen objects safe. We know he’s put things in here before because we literally see him doing it in the first movie.

a quick honorable mention for my back holster idea. I think this has the highest axe/machete potential. I think he could do it.

two standard pants pockets. We don’t know the size of the second one (covered by his vest….waist….thing) but knowing boy’s pants, they’re probably pretty big. He might be able to fix a machete in there. If he’s got a smaller axe (maybe a throwing axe?) he could definitely fit that in a standard pants pocket.

Thigh pockets? Access to a secret thigh holster where he can fit more knives? This seems like a good, likely option for bigger knives. Maybe not a full sized standard machete, because Jay is truly Not That Tall, but like, a big two handed knife? Sure.

Knee??? Pockets???? I understand that these zippers are probably there to indicate that he can zip his pants off into shorts, but in my heart he’s got little tiny pockets at his knees. These are too small to fit a machete. These are only large enough to fit isle snacks, which are small and sad because the children are starving.

okay, I know I said I’m done with the knee pocket thing, but why is there a little piece of knee armor on the right side? I can only assume it’s there to disguise a hidden pocket for thievery.

Boots. Shove some knives in the sides of those boots like we shoved our phones into our ugg boots back in 2010. Jay’s got some pretty chunky boots here, he could fit at least one knife in each, maybe two if he packs them right.

This has been hidden weapon time with blue! I still think a machete is WAY too big to hide anywhere but a back holster, but I support all of Jay’s hidden weapons and I’m mentally adding an axe to his pants in every scene now.