#love tha primes

[winged-void]

Prime numbers be upon ye, wench

2. Favorite color when you were younger, and now?

When I was younger it was the specific Scarlet associated with crayola crayons. I distinctly remember being told it was a "girl color" and I never worked out why. I wonder if it was like. because some girls are named scarlet? because of the scarlet letter? we may never know.

Now it's Cyan or Teal. love them shits.

3. Do you wear eye-shadow? What color?

I Have before but i generally don't. When i do it's always really obvious and weird so i can look weird

5. In your opinion, is love at first sight real?

that is completely inconsistent with my understanding of love I have built over the course of my 8 year relationship with my wife (and other relationships before and during). Love is not attraction, it's commitment. It's a choice you make even when the Feeling isn't there.

7. First kiss details? (If you haven’t been kissed, reply how and if you would like to be.)

I tried to kiss my (now) wife after our second date but i missed and fucked up, and they asked me if I wanted to try again and I did it.

11. What is your hair like?

Soft? Long? Blonde? it tangles easy and it hurts lots bc my skin is sensitive everywhere. If i let you touch my hair freely, you know I trust you lmao.

13. What time do you go to bed? What time do you wake up?

generally around midnight. Generally wake up around 6 or 7. supplemented with naps in the middle of the day when I am allowed. Somehow i catpilled myself into a crepuscular sleep schedule

17. Favorite game as a child?

Interesting question, could have any number of answers. I always would say Majora's mask, it was probably my favorite game from an artistic perspective. But from the perspective of which one I just liked to play? Probably like. any given pokemon? runescape? adventure quest????

19. Princess, Fairy, Mermaid, or Unicorn?

Angel<3

23. Do you dance? Slow dance?

Not generally, i got shamed a lot as a kid and its hard to overcome all that still. I did take dance classes for my wedding though, and danced there.

29. When and who was your first crush?

Uhh as far as I remember probably like. this girl named taylor in 8th grade. We had a weird awkward sort of relationship that ended when she told me we actually hadn't been dating and she was dating someone else? She then proceeded to stalk me and tell me she loved me over and over for years after that. weird shit idk

31. Are you superstitious?

No.

37. Are you quiet or loud?

it depends? is anyone one of those as a rule? I guess when I'm quiet its intentional, usually because im shy or anxious or w/e, and when I am comfy i tend to get too loud.

41. Worst fear as a kid?

Dark or heights

43. why isn't there a 43?

Idk! but i added one

47. Do you feel everything, nothing, or you don’t know what to feel?

I feel a lot. I tend to feel it on a delay. Like. I will experience something and then feel all the emotions hours or even days later

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[lord-squiggletits]

"Rodimus is a better Prime because it didn't hurt for him to bond with the Matrix while for Optimus it did" headcanon/theory my beloathed.

One day I'm literally gonna snap and make a whole post addressing why what's wrong bc I'm tired of the inaccuracy and tired of ppl not understanding the Point TM of IDW and its version of the Matrix/Primacy and even more tired of people putting down Optimus in favor of Rodimus by essentially arguing that being unworthy means you deserve to be punished/put in pain bc you just weren't good enough to hold the Symbol of Ultimate Authority

[slater-baby]

Hi slater I saw that you do requests now and I can’t stop thinking about this prompt so I RAN to your ask box

Imagine if Simon had like a girlfriend or wife that he hid from the 141 bc he’s scared to put her in danger but then he accidentally ends up mentioning her anyway? Imagine how cute their reaction would be :(((((

Anyway I love Texas Red rn literally what I sleep eat and breathe <3 hope you’re doing well lovely

- 🐙 anon

Im gonna call u Octo Anon cause somehow that goes well in my mind lol hope you enjoy the story!! Tags: drinking, recreational drug use (weed), drunken confessions, banter, newlyweds, pure tooth-rotting fluff, whipped!Simon

-

Six months. 

It had been six painfully long months since they’d been sent on this blasted deployment. A deployment which, to no short degree, went off the rails the minute they hopped off the transport. They’d been stuck in the ass end of the Mexican jungle, working a joint operation to see a few two-bit traffickers into their maximum security cells in the United States. 

Thinking back on it now, it was far from the most dangerous operation they’d ever been sent on, but if the misadventures they’d had had been any less hilarious, he might have been inclined to say the short deployment would live on in his nightmares. 

First, a private had accidentally locked the keys to one of their armored trucks inside the car. Price had been livid, shouting loud enough that the enemy might as well have had their direct position on UAV. Needless to say, it took three hours, two crow bars, and five men over 220 to crack the doors in time to make it back for evening mess. 

Then, Soap’s detonators had fizzled out halfway through an infiltration.

-

“Fuck do you mean they’re blitzed?!” Simon had yelled through the heavy gunfire, ducking behind a tree trunk when a bullet came whizzing by his face.

“Means the cap’s fucked,” Soap had yelled back, crouching in a pile of wires that were all too complicated for Simon to understand.

“Get it fuckin’ fixed, will ya?! I got thirty men out here, and I’m not burying ‘em until we’re back at base—”

“Have some patience, LT—”

“Patience?!” Simon had growled, pinning Johnny with a pointed stare, “Another word, MacTavish, and send you out there myself.”

“Just—” Soap grunted, stripping another wire, “Got my wires crossed or something—”

A blaze had consumed the battlefield, a shockwave big enough to make Simon stumble on his feet rocking the earth. A tense quiet had ensued, punctuated by falling tree limbs. The gun shots had halted immediately. Panting, he’d looked down at Soap’s confused face.

“Oh…” the sergeant had chuckled, holding up the detonator for Simon to look at, “Guess it was the yellow wire then.”

-

And even after all that, there were no shortage of stupid mistakes on base that had nearly cost him his sanity. A few privates suspiciously AWOL (who’d eventually been found blind drunk at a tequila bar after a five alarm fire and an intense search of the entire base). An air raid siren that malfunctioned the minute the lot of them were finally down to sleep. And to cap it all off, a session with a group of green recruits who wanted to observe a few SAS soldiers in their prime. One thing led to another, and when an errant misfire at the gun range nearly landed in Simon’s foot, he would have swum all the way back to England just to get a night of peace and quiet in his own damn house.

However, all’s well that end’s well, he supposes. No use in complaining about it now—especially when the mission had bore such impressive fruits. In the end, all three of the targets they’d been searching for had gone away in cuffs, and to top it all off, the leader of the cartel in question was coincidentally at the meeting they’d raided just hours ago—an absolute miracle by all counts.

Another success. Another name crossed off the Most Wanted List. And another long night of celebration before they headed back to Europe. All things considered, it couldn’t have ended better. 

Though, that isn’t to say they were any more professional than they’d been when they’d gotten here.

-

“Soap,” he’d groaned, deadpan.

“C’mon, Ghost, lighten up,” Johnny had drawled, sticking the smoke between his teeth.

“What the hell is that?” He’d pointed to the smoke in question.

“Nothin’, LT. Just…” he’d shrugged, lighting up, “…not baccy.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon remarked, pinching his nose bridge, “Y’know, Price’ll have you by the balls if he sees you smoking that.”

“Not if I offer him a hit first,” Soap answered, blowing a ring of smoke, “Old bastard’s got back pain, y’know…”

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Simon had shaken his head, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. Beyond the fence of the base, he’d seen the chirping night bugs, glowing fireflies illuminating the woods just on the other end. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen another cloud of smoke waft throughout the air. His fingers had tapped against his bicep. His profuse scowl fell with a single twitch of his lip.

“Fine,” he’d relented (all too excitedly), “Give it—before I decide to write you up myself.”

-

Needless to say, one hit turned into a second…turned into this.

“No—no, that’s against the rules,” Kyle wheezed, bent halfway over in his chair while Soap sat on his knees in the chair across the table, squinting aggressively down at the cups of beer on Kyle’s end.

“It’s fuckin’ not, ye git, now yer just being dramatic—” he wobbled on his knees, barely able to catch himself on the edge of the table before he fell off the chair.

“Hate it break it to you, lads,” Price smirked, feet kicked up against the table while he sipped on a finger of whiskey, “But beer pong ain’t exactly meant to be played sitting down…don’t even know what rules you’re yapping about…”

“Shut up, Price,” both of them had drunkenly snapped, and Price acquiesced with two raised hands.

Somehow, the night had come to this. The four of them in the basement of the watchman’s tower, surrounded in all the army fanfare one could expect. Open bottles of Jack Daniels. Old posters of bikini models on the concrete walls. Metal music blaring through a tinny bluetooth speaker. 

Soap had bought too much weed for his own good. Which—when combined with a near lethal dose of liquor—had all of them blazed off of their faces. Captain, included. At least, if they got written up, their leading officer’s signature could bail them out. Not like the MP wouldn’t keep their mouths shut for a few hits, anyway.

Now, Kyle and Johnny were an hour into a game of beer pong, adding a new rule seemingly every second just to keep things interesting. First, you had to drink two cups for every point the other person scored. Then, you had to balance a shot of tequila on your shoulder when you threw. And now, you had to be sitting in a chair that was at least a foot away from the edge of the table when it was your turn.

The two of them were so smashed this round alone had taken them forty five minutes at least. And—judging by the way Soap was wobbling on his knees—it would be another forty five minutes at the very least.

“Just fucking throw already,” Kyle giggled.

“Shut up, Gaz, m’allowed to take my time—”

With a look of sloshed concentration, Soap inelegantly chucks the ping pong ball across the table, arm wound up like a baseball pitcher just to get it in the cup without a bounce. It smacks Kyle in the chest, knocking over a cup of beer, and before he can even curse, the wheels of the chair slide out from under him, and Johnny lands face first on the concrete floor.

The sound of it is so loud it rings around the walls. The laughter that ensues is so raucous the boys on watch duty upstairs are no doubt getting an earful.

“Fuck—” Gaz wheezes, clutching his stomach.

Simon manages to stifle a laugh with another sip of beer. But when Price suddenly jerks forward, a spray of whiskey leaving his mouth, Simon can’t contain his own laughter for even a second longer. His chuckles are deep and hoarse, a sound that was so scarcely heard Soap stops his whining just to straighten up in awe.

But, hell, even if the three of them are staring at him like he’s grown a second head, Simon can’t stop it. No, he laughs until he’s nearly blue in the face, coughing around the remnants of the beer in his mouth.

“Damn,” Kyle peers curiously over at him, drunken gaze so amusing it only makes him laugh harder, “Looks like you broke him…”

“Not broken,” he manages brokenly, clearing his throat to try and appear a bit more sober, but he’s far too sloshed to hide the way that he smiles, “Y’just look like an idiot is all.”

“M’not an idjit—”

“Just proves his point,” Price chips in.

“Whatever,” Soap sighs, standing up and dusting him off, “You bastards’re no fun anyway…”

For a second, the conversation drops out and only the music on the speaker can be heard. Idly, Simon looks down at his watch, however, with that simple movement, his head spins viciously, and he takes a deep breath just to steady himself. 

“Anybody got a pack o’ menthols?” Kyle suddenly chimes in, “Already smoked through mine…”

Simon hums, propping his hip up to reach into his jeans pocket to rifle around, “Think I got another pack…”

“Which brand?”

“Newport.”

“Braw,” Soap reaches over the table, “You lads want another round?”

-

“I miss Nando’s,” Gaz sighs, lazily fiddling with the beer bottle in his lap.

“Fuck, that sounds good,” Soap hazily leans onto his shoulder, eyes closed, like if he thought hard enough, he might be able to conjure the taste of it on his tongue. Truthfully, Johnny was a bit too drunk to conjure up anything beyond the taste of Don Julio, but even that seemed a little far fetched at the moment. 

They’d been doing this for a while now, going back and forth with all the things they wanted after deployment ended. It was a mindless game, one they probably wouldn’t even remember in the morning. Hell, even Simon was getting loose in the lips, droning on and on about some magical dish he’d been aching for. Honestly, it was so surprising to see him open up that the three of them were all but speechless to reply, listening intently as he stumbled through an incoherent explanation. Hell, at this point, they’d listen to him talk nonsense so long as his coworkers got a glimpse into the mysterious life he lived when he was off base.

Over the years, the most he’d talked about was the gym that he frequented, and which groceries he bought for dinner. In all honesty, it was hard to imagine Ghost outside of those two particular scenarios. Ghost, lifting weights for hours on end, some acrid black metal blaring in his headphones. Ghost, puttering through the grocery store with a surgical mask on, trolley chock full of sad TV dinners and beer cans. To Johnny, it seemed like Simon only came out of his shell on base, amongst his friends. But as a civillian…

Yeah, Johnny can practically imagine him sitting in his darkened flat, scarfing down protein bars and counting down the days until they were back on the job.

Coworker gossip aside, all the food talk was making Johnny’s stomach rumble, and the fact that they’d be back in the UK just past one in the morning was not helping the vicious craving he had for Peri Peri chicken.

“I miss sausage rolls,” he slurs. God, when had Kyle’s shoulder gotten so comfortable? Somewhere between pint three and four?

“Jaffa cakes,” Price offers.

“Fuck,” Kyle groans, head thrown back against the sofa cushions.

Simon mumbles something underneath his breath. It’s slurred and nearly incoherent. Johnny peaks open a single eye to look over at where he sits in his stool, leant up against the wall because he was too drunk to sit up straight anymore. Idly, he laughs. God, if only the guys on the other side could see him now: the infamous Ghost, blackout drunk next to some faded Playboy poster.

Fuck.

Soap has half a mind to take a picture of it if only so that he could tease Simon about it when they were nursing hangovers on the plane tomorrow morning.

However, Simon doesn’t make to speak up again, and the rest of them don’t comment. Instead, they continue sipping on their final drinks, all of them watching with rapt attention as the ceiling fan makes another circle.

“Miss my couch,” Price suddenly chimes.

Another few seconds. Another few circles.

“I miss steak pie,” he suddenly finds himself drawling eyes unwittingly closed, “The one my ma used to make…”

“Chicken dippers—the kind you put in the oven…” Gaz responds, “And fresh chips.”

“Chicken noodle soup,” Price hums, “Mum used to make the best…”

Just imagining the taste, Johnny could burst into tears. God, it’s been a long six months, eating nothing but mess hall mashed potatoes and MREs. He’s just about to chime in when Simon’s arm shifts against the wall and he manages a slurred sentence.

“Pasta and shrimp,” he says, voice unfocused like the reply was completely unconscious, “With…white wine and butter…”

At that, Soap furrows his brows—even with his eyes still closed. Simon drank white wine? Simon  “Ghost” Riley, the man who wore a literal human skull on his face and had a tattoo of an AK-47 on his forearm, drank white wine and ate shrimp pasta when he was off duty?

Hm.

Never guess a book by its cover, he supposes.

Another silence ensues, one that’s punctuated with the somber, quiet atmosphere of the early morning and months without comfort. Now that the beer has dried up, and the battery on the speaker had died, there was nothing left except for a quiet yearning for a place that wasn’t here. A place that was faraway and over seas, full of life and love, as well as all the people who were waiting for them to come back.

“I miss doing the laundry,” Price says, voice…unreadable.

“Miss going grocery shopping,” Gaz huffs quietly.

“I miss…” Johnny beings, nearly falling asleep, “I miss going home.”

With that, it all drops dead. There’s no more fanfare, no more celebration. Not for what they’d achieved or what they’d done. There was only reality, cold and hard, weighing on their shoulders like a barbell. 

That is, until Simon makes a long sigh, clumsily leaning his elbows on his knees. He swipes over his face, tired and smashed.

“Fuck,” he says, “I miss my wife.”

At that, three pairs of eyes shoot open all at once. Suddenly, sleep seems like a faraway dream. And even if his head spins, Johnny straightens up in his chair.

“What?” Kyle asks, voice so sharp Soap would have thought he was sober.

“Miss my wife,” Simon drawls, taking a breath, “It’s been…six months.”

“But…” Soap furrows his brows, sending Price a questioning look from across the room. Even the Captain seems puzzled, sending Johnny an eager nod in approval.

“But…you have a wife?” Soap manages, wiping his eyes to see Simon’s exposed smile even a little bit clearer.

“‘Course I fuckin’ do,” he answers, nearly falling off of his stool when he straightens back up, “She’s waitin’ for me back home. Doesn’t know I’ll be back tomorrow…”

“But you have a wife?!” Kyle edges, leaning forward on his elbows like this was astonishing news. And Johnny does, too, because of course it fucking was. His lieutenant? Married? Had hell frozen over?

“What?” Simon glances around the room, lips pulled into a clumsy scowl, as if the answer were obvious, “Price has a wife. S’not all that weird…”

“Had,” Price corrects, taking another gulp of beer, “Divorced last year.”

“Whatever,” Simon flippantly waves his hand, leaning back into the wall like he could pass out at a moments’ notice, “Fuck the lot of you. My wife is...Fuck, I miss her.”

“No—didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…” Kyle swallows, trying valiantly to wrack his brain for any singular instance where Simon could have mentioned a girlfriend, “Never heard how the two of you met.”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Guess I just forgot,” Gaz lies through his teeth.

“Mm…” Simon swipes his palm over his stubble, head lolling, “Met her a couple years ago. She lived across the hall. Y’know, neighbors ’n all that shite…”

As Simon readies himself to speak another word, Price leans forward, too, the three of them watching with equal amounts of bewilderment as Simon explains his supposed “wife.” If he was being truthful, Johnny still didn’t believe it. To have a pretty little thing waiting for him at home, cooking him dinners with white wine and grilled shrimp…sue him if it all feels like a grand lie. Another joke Simon would play on them.

“She brought me biscuits when she moved in,” Simon huffs, eyebrows raised like he was imagining the taste of it himself, “God, they were so good…I miss that. Her biscuits. She makes ‘em so good. Cherry pie, too…She makes ‘em on movie night. Whole batches of ‘em. She doesn’t even complain when I eat ‘em all. She just makes more. Fuck, she’s too sweet…”

Simon rubs his fingers over his eyes, mouth closing—like he didn’t have an entire audience captivated with his drunken slurs. 

“And…?” Gaz prompts, practically unblinking.

“Well…I mean, when I opened the door I hated it,” he snorts, unconsciously smiling, “‘Cause I don’t want some neighbour makin’ a racket when I get home from work, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“Totally.”

“Completely understandable.”

“But then…” Simon rubs over his lips, eyes hazy, “Had to return the container. ’N so I went over one night, and she was makin’ dinner. Said she didn’t have any friends in the city, and…I felt bad so I ate with her.”

Kyle scrunches his face, sending Soap a questioning look. He leans over to Johnny’s ear, letting out a conspicuous whisper.

“Some romance this is,” he jokes, chortling.

Soap’s inclined to agree. The most romance he could imagine for his lieutenant would be a hookup in the bar bathroom, nothing more. Home made cookies and white wine dinners with the girl next door seems like a pipe dream…

“So you got with her cause she cooks well?” Price asks, smirking.

“What?” Simon’s lips curl into a snarl, and he glares in Price’s direction, “What makes you think that?”

“Nothin’ just…” Price quirks his head, smirk widening into a smile.

“No,” Simon growls, passionate but much too inebriated to make it eloquent. Price chuckles, raising his hands in faux surrender, “S’not that, she’s just…she’s so good to me.”

“So, then,” Kyle stifles a laugh, “You got with her because—”

“Don’t talk about m’wife like that,” He warns, rolling his eyes, “She’s too sweet for that. Didn’t let me kiss her until the third date…”

“So you dated her?” Soap asks in awe, “Like, for how long?”

“For…” Simon concentrates, taking in a low inhale, “Until December…Before we came out here.”

At that, the three of them send each other confused looks, brows scrunched.

“So she was dating you until you came out here?” Kyle pushes, “I thought you said that she was your wife…”

“She is,” he hums dreamily, a small smile overcoming his scarred lips, “Went to the courthouse ’n everything. Gave her my last name. She said she didn’t wanna let me go until I made her mine…’n so I did. Don’t tell her, but I like it like that. Her havin’ my name. It sounds prettier with mine right next to hers.”

“Yeah?” Price chuckles, hiding behind his bottle, “’N what’s her name?”

Simon lolls his head to look at Price, clumsily readjusting himself in his seat. He crosses his arms over his chest, trying and failing to look as intimidating as he is when he’s sober.

“Not telling you,” he sighs, “You lot would just fuck with her…”

“No, I swear we won’t,” Johnny scoots up in his seat, “Just…c’mon, Ghost, what is it?”

Simon’s eyes are pensive as he looks down at Soap, worrying his cheek. That is, until he opens his mouth.

“Definitely not tellin’ you, MacTavish,” he grunts, “Don’t want some git like you hittin’ on my wife…”

Soap’s face falls, unduly offended. Price and Kyle, however, only laugh just that much harder, practically spitting up liquor with every noise. Johnny, however, can only cross his arms in anger. 

“Whatever, s’not like the lass even exists anyway,” Soap rolls his eyes, gesturing towards Simon’s inebriated state, “What’s next, Simon? Gonna say she goes to another school or some shite?”

“Just ‘cause I got a pretty thing at home doesn’t mean you have to be jealous, Johnny,” he defends himself, “Just upset that I got a girl who loves me ’n you don’t…”

“M’not jealous—”

“No, no, Johnny’s right, Simon,” Price interjects, shoving Johnny back with a hand against his chest, “it’s just…no offense, but you haven’t talked about her…well, uh—not that much, anyway. And her being your wife…I mean, I don’t quite believe it.”

“What, gonna ask me for pictures or something?” Simon screws his face up in disgust, “Yeah, right…Try ’n cop a look and I’ll lay you flat.”

Before Johnny can ask for said pictures (let alone what kind of photos Simon had of his supposed “wife”) John nails him with a look, zipping his mouth shut.

“No, not that just…” Price shrugs, gesturing towards Simon’s phone on the table, “Call her or something. Tell her you’re coming home tomorrow. Sure she’d love to hear from you.”

“No, not right now,” Simon groans, resting his arms on the table, “Fuck…she gets mad when m’drunk. Doesn’t want me out late. She gets scared when she’s at home alone, wants me there to keep her safe. She needs me at home, y’know…She doesn’t sleep well when she has the bed to herself. Can’t be sloshed like this…”

“Well,” John smiles, “All the more reason to tell her you’re coming home tomorrow, yeah? It’ll be fine, just…call her.”

Simon seems to debate it for a moment, wavering in his spot on the stool. Meanwhile, Price, John, and Johnny all watch with rapt attention, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. When Simon reaches to tap at his phone screen, navigating through the apps on pure muscle memory, they’re on the edge of his seat. But when he taps a contact, the ambient sounds of a tone ringing, they’re nearly vibrating—that is, until the ringing halts with a spur of static.

“Hello?” A female voice answers.

Instantly, all three of them go from lounging in their chairs to leaning over the table in utter disbelief, staring down at the screen with unblinking eyes.

“Hey, love,” Simon calls, the word slipping out of his mouth like it was second nature.

“Simon?” You ask, “Is that you?”

Your voice peaks around his name, some ambient shuffling in the background as you no doubt stood up from wherever you’d been sitting before—delighted to hear from him.

“Yeah, it’s me, love.”

“Hey,” you say in response, an awed giggle exiting your mouth, “I—I thought that I wouldn’t hear from you for another week…”

“No, just…finished the mission early. Cuffed the bastards like…five hours ago. It’s just me ’n the boys now.”

“Really?” You exclaim, a broad smile in your voice, “You’re not lying?”

“No, love, I was jus’ calling ‘cause I wanted to tell you I’ll be home tomorrow.”

Simon’s voice is softer around the words, kinder. Almost like he thought the rough baritone of his voice would grate on your ears. Well, that, or he was just too drunk to hide how infatuated he was with you. Hell, the smile on his face—small and imperceptible—was almost so telling Johnny would have thought you were standing right in front of him if he hadn’t heard your voice coming through the speakers.

However, Johnny’s a little too busy to articulate that particular thought right now. No, his jaw was firmly on the table, listening to Simon sweet talk his wife through the phone line.

Simon had a wife.

Simon had a bloody wife and he didn’t fucking tell them.

The mangey bastard, Soap whips his head around to look at Simon, about ready to curse at him before you speak up again. 

“So it all went well? You’re—you’re not hurt are you?”

“No, just tired…” Simon huffs, “Wanna fuckin’ sleep, and…I wanna go to Gregg’s when I get back.”

At that, you can’t contain the flowery laugh you release. It’s so melodic Soap has a hard time connecting Simon’s monologue with the vision of you he’s getting now.

Pretty thing like you showed up at his flat, a box of cookies in hand, with that sweet voice and beautiful laugh and Simon didn’t jump at the chance? Fucking unbelievable.

Though, looking at the man now, Johnny has no doubt that Simon was about ready to get down on his knees and kiss the ground that you walked on. Literally. He seemed about drunk enough to do it, too.

“Simon,” you scoff, “Are you drunk?”

At the dreaded question, Simon sighs all too obviously, closing his eyes, “Yeah.”

You don’t get angry. No, you only giggle to yourself once more, a quiet exasperation in your voice.

“Babe,” you huff, and Soap imagines that you cross your arms, “Y’know, you can have Gregg’s any time you want…Don’t you want a dinner at home before we leave for Italy?”

“Italy?” Kyle raises his eyebrows, whispering.

Johnny does the same. Only, the alcohol catches up to him before he can pretend to be subtle.

“You’re going to Italy right after ye get home?” He asks Simon, nearly yelling.

“Shut up, Soap, m’talking to my girl right now,” Simon grunts, too sloshed to be mad.

“Who was that?” You interject, but before Soap can reach for the phone, Simon clumsily shoves him away.

“No one you should talk to, love,” he shakes his head like you could see it through the phone, “Just…yeah, you’re right.”

“Okay, then,” you laugh, “Well, what do you wanna eat? I’ll have it made before you get home.”

Simon considers the question for a few seconds, like it was of monumental importance to him. When he speaks, he speaks precisely…even if it is slurred with alcohol.

“Can you make that—that pasta? Y’know, like, with the shrimp and the wine…”

“You mean white wine pasta?” 

“Yeah, that one…”

“White wine pasta…” Soap furrows his brow, releasing a disbelieving chuckle, “Dinnae know you liked white wine, LT…”

“I don’t…”

“Then why do you want it when—”

“It’s in the pasta,” you laugh, barely able to get through your words without being interrupted, “He doesn’t drink it.”

“Oh,” Soap says stupidly, tempted to introduce himself, if only so that he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself in front of his friend’s wife. But what would he say?

Oh, hello, Mrs. Riley. Sorry, we force fed your husband weed and menthols until he was too high to remember not to tell us about you?

Yeah, he should save the formalities for later.

“Well,” your voice is staticky through the phone, “If that’s it, then I guess that’s fine. You sure you don’t want me to make anything else? It’s been six months."

“I know,” he professes, like it was some grand hurt in his heart, “Fuck…I miss you.”

You only laugh, voice sickly sweet and cloying, “I miss you too, baby. Know when you’ll be home?”

“We’ll be at the airport late…Probably after one.”

“Want me to pick you up?”

“Yeah,” he sniffs, wiping at his face, “Don’t wanna bother with the transport…”

“Got it,” you hum, “I’ll see you then.”

“Okay,” Simon relents, but before he can forget himself, he suddenly perks up, huddling closer to the speaker, “Hey, love, wait a minute.”

“What?”

“When you drive there, promise me you’ll be careful, yeah? The car’s still…fucked,” he explains simply, almost like he couldn’t come up with a way to describe it when he was so drunk, “Just—check the power steering fluid. Make sure it’s topped off. You’ve been doing it like I showed you?”

“Yeah, but…” you make a small noise, “We’re kinda running out…”

“That’s okay, love. Don’t worry about it,” he answers, “So long as its topped off I’ll know you’re safe. I’ll take care of it when I get home…’n I’m not so tired.”

Once again, you chuckle, “Got it, Simon.”

“See you tomorrow?” He asks.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, baby.”

“Good,” he finishes, letting out a long sigh, “When you get to the airport, wear that white dress. The pretty one, y’know. That way I can pick you out of the crowd.”

“Simon, you don’t have to make an excuse to get me to dress up…”

“Yeah, but…” he smiles down at the phone, looking all too sick and in love, “Want you to look good before we leave for Italy.”

“Don’t worry about that, Simon,” you snort, “I’ll give you a whole tour of all the clothes I bought while you were gone.”

“Can’t wait,” he supplies, eyes closing around the words, “Tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

“I love you,” he says without even thinking, staring down at your screen name with blackened pupils, “Sleep well, love.”

“I’ll sleep better once you’re home,” you tell him emphatically, “I love you, too, baby.”

With that, the line goes dead, and all that remains is Simon’s swaying form and his friends’ locked jaws. The three of them are so stunned they can barely speak, looking back and forth between Simon’s face and his phone like all of this would suddenly start making sense the more they wracked their brains about it.

“M’fucking knackered,” Simon suddenly says, planting his hands on the table top, “Can’t be too tired when I get home tomorrow…”

“Wait—you said you’re gong to Italy when you get back?” Kyle questions, grabbing Simon by the sleeve when he gets up to leave.

“Yeah,” Simon answers—like it was just common sense. Kyle, however, can only roll his eyes.

“Well, what for?”

“Our fuckin’ honeymoon,” Simon shoves Kyle’s hands away, “Just got bloody married and you think I wouldn’t treat my girl right. You lot are fuckin’ twats,” he shakes his head, climbing the stairs before any of them can say another word, “Bloody cavemen. The lot of you.”

They watch, stunned, as Simon scales the stairs, clinging to the hand rail like he’d go tumbling down without it. And judging by his clunky steps, he really might. However, when the door up top opens with a squeak and is slammed closed right after, Soap figures he can leave the man to his own devices tonight. Slowly, the three of them exchange looks between each other, all equally puzzled as the next.

“Honeymoon?” Kyle whispers.

“Simon’s a newlywed?” Price hisses.

Above, they hear Simon’s footsteps plod away, getting lighter and lighter as they go. At that, Soap can only laugh disbelievingly, shaking his head.

“Fuck me,” he curses, staring down at the table in awe. He looks at all the empty bottles, at the brimming ash tray.

“You think if he sleeps it off he’ll forget?”

“Better hope so,” Price sneers, standing from his chair, “Otherwise, he might accuse you of hitting on his wife again.”

Soap deadpans once again, glaring at the captain, “I was not—”

“Yeah, tell the newlywed husband that,” the Captain waves over his shoulder, “Who knows, might pummel your face in before you get back to Edinburgh. Sure the cashier at Nando’s would love to see that.”

“Whatever,” Soap rolls his eyes—not for the first time.

Kyle’s hand claps down on his shoulder,  and his friend sends him a widening smile.

“You’re fucked, mate,” he supplies simply.

[smoothriverrocksrock]

First of all, I love your DeceptiBee au. That's all I needed to lift my spirits.

I imagine Bee going to Megatron and asking him to let him go to Iacon to meet with Orion and Elita, because of some celebratory party or something and him using the "Elita ordered" card and Megs accepting because you know how she is (and because he wants to see Bee happy)

Perhaps encounters like this will endear Bee to the Autobots and things get more serious when (As you imagined) Bee gets hurt in the middle of the fight and both sides stop to help him

Google tradutor é difícil, sorry😥

Ningún problema!

I actually have this idea, near the end of the story, of Bee convincing Megatron to properly *try* some sort of peace conference with the Autobots/Optimus. It would consist of a lot of planning between Bee and Elita (give or take a few others) to create a neutral zone on the surface outside of Iacon where the Autobots and Decepticons can formerly discuss policies for running Cybertron. Bee mainly wants to get this going so he can reunite his friend group and prevent the civil war from reaching the point-of-no-return. Elita does too, but she also wants to reunite the government with some people who remember what Cybertron was like before Sentinel

Megatron has mixed feelings about doing this. Basically his entire high command wants some sort of complete upheaval and reconstruction of Cybertron to be this militaristic dictatorship (Basically the Primacy before Sentinel, they’re kinda stuck in the past). To put it short, the Decepticons WANT war. Megatron, on the other hand, has gotten really into this Socialism-ish idea he has but doesn’t think Optmius The Prime would agree with. Mainly because it would mean the people have all the power and the Prime would play a much smaller role as a kinda oracle/general priest figure.

Little does Megatron know, Optimus would be totally down for this.

After several shenanigans, Bee and Elita eventually get Autobot and Decepticon high command together in a room.

The Decepticons expected something like a whole council of mini-Sentinels using the new Prime as a puppet king. They get a bunch of young hyperactive ex-miners who take any change at showing off their new T-cog powers.

The Autobots expect some kind of murder-happy caveman gang that D-16 Megatron found in a landfill. They get a bunch of socially-stunted old cunts who keep asking them weird questions like “How old are you?” and “Are you even qualified for you position?”

The Decepticons also keep challenging the Autobots to physical brawls over honor. The Decepticons seem to have underestimated the kind of body strength required to be underestimated miner.

Elita, Starscream, Soundwave, Prowl, and very few others seem to be taking the political side of this meeting seriously. They huddle in a corner coordinating reunion/war. Elita looks like she’s going to tackle Starscream at any given moment.

Meanwhile on the opposite corner, Bee is entirely focused on getting Optimus and Megatron to have a normal social interaction. It’s… not really working. Optmius and Megatron keep referring to things Bee wasn’t around for, and keep doing having silent conversation through looks alone. Bumblebee has to accept in this moment that he’s done all he can, and now it’s up to Megatron / Optimus to sort things out.

For a happy ending, they would! Optimus would eagerly listen to all of Megatron’s ideas, what he’s learned from commanding an army and how to take charge. Megatron would be surprised by how open Optimus is too stepping down as a sole leader, and the strides Optimus has taken to reshaping Iacon. Maybe they haven’t worked things out as friends, but they agree they can set aside differences for Cybertron.

At this moment a bar fight would start between Elita and Starscream, and they’d have to go deal with that.

But I won’t deny that things could go wrong here. Maybe this is the real final straw, and from this meeting on Cybertron begins its decent into ruin. But that kinda story is for someone else to explore! I wanna make my fun divorce resolution :)

[doctorsilverhead]

Hey there!

This is my very first req on tumblr cause I'm just too shy to ask anything. So yay!

May I request for a Bayverse Optimus with human fem reader? I don't know, just fluffy things. But honestly, I prefer Optimus being an alien dad bot to the reader. So like- fatherly fluffy things, you know?

Then again, I feel like bayverse Optimus need some more love! I'm basically begging you for our ruthless yet gentle leader!

Make it after TLK event please! (Just pretend he didn't go home to the Cybertron yet lol)

Thank you before that!

More Than Meets the Metal: When Optimus Found a Heartbeat (Bayverse Optimus Prime X Human Reader)

In the aftermath of the harrowing events of The Last Knight, the world found itself in a state of flux, grappling with the revelations of an ancient war that had spilled onto Earth's doorstep. Amidst the chaos, a beacon of hope emerged in the form of Optimus Prime, the noble leader of the Autobots, who had once again proven his unwavering commitment to protecting humanity.

For one young woman, the presence of Optimus Prime took on a deeper, more personal significance. She had been drawn into the whirlwind of events, witnessing firsthand the sacrifices made by these extraordinary beings from another world. In the aftermath, she found herself forging an unexpected bond with the towering Autobot commander, one that transcended the boundaries of species and culture.

Optimus Prime, with his ancient wisdom and compassionate spark, recognized the profound impact the events had left on the young woman's psyche. In a gesture that defied his imposing stature, he extended a gentle, fatherly presence, offering solace and guidance in a world that had been forever altered.

Optimus would regale her with tales of Cybertron's golden age, painting vivid pictures of a world teeming with life and wonder.

In turn,Y/N would share her own stories, her hopes, and her dreams, finding solace in the unwavering patience and understanding of her alien father figure. Optimus would listen intently, offering sage advice and encouragement, his words carrying the weight of eons of experience.

Optimus would take her on excursions, introducing her to the wonders of the natural world. They would venture into pristine forests, where he would explain the ecosystem, or gaze up at the stars, as he recounted the vast expanse of the cosmos and the myriad worlds that lay beyond.

He worried like a father hen, constantly reminding you of potential dangers. "Stay within the perimeter, little one," he'd say, his voice a deep baritone that echoed through the yard. You'd roll your eyes, but a smile would always touch your lips. He meant well, always looking out for you.

Sometimes, you'd read to him while he repaired himself, stories of faraway lands and fantastical creatures. He'd listen intently, his blue optics flickering with amusement at the lighter tales and dimming with concern at the darker ones.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the junkyard in a warm glow, you presented Optimus with a gift – a small, hand-painted firefly encased in resin. "For protection," you said, a little shyly. He carefully took the trinket, his optics softening. "Thank you, little one," he murmured, a hint of wonder in his voice. "It reminds me of you. Small, but with a light that shines bright even in the darkest of times." He attached the firefly to his chest plate, close to his spark chamber. It was a small gesture, but in the desolate landscape, it spoke volumes. It was a symbol of the unexpected family you had found in each other, a testament to the enduring power of hope and love, even in a world determined to extinguish it.

As the world around them continued to heal and rebuild, their bond only grew stronger, a testament to the enduring power of compassion and understanding. Optimus Prime had become more than just a protector of humanity; he had become a father figure, a mentor, and a friend, offering a sense of belonging in a universe that had suddenly become infinitely larger and more wondrous.

[dragonridernoobie]

How does tfp Team Prime react to meeting an emotionally-detached femme who is heavily scarred and became ruthless due to circumstances. She's trying to improve for the team and remains quiet as a response to the horrors she's seen. (Horrors that, let's say are the reason she's walked alone until now)

However, she rediscovers her old love for art and begins gifting them the paintings she's made of them, smiling a little when they're accepted. The last one presented to all of them is called the 'Family portrait', which is of the entire team, including the humans.

Hmmm, intresting....I tried my best, and tha k you for being patient!!!!

TFP Autobots X Emotionally Didatched Reader

When the autobot team met (Y/N), it was when an escape pod crash landed on earth. They where excited since another autobot was alive.

When they met (Y/N) they immediately could tell (Y/N) was distant. They acted like UltraMagnus just more...distance.

When they welcomed (Y/N) to the base, (Y/N) was quick to help train the team like UltraMagnus. They whernt as stricked but still called out the team if they messed up on moved or attacks.

The team had mixed feelings about them, but one thing they all can agree with. Why was (Y/N) so distant, emotionless, and strict.

They decided to find out in each of their own own ways. Each team member agreed to try and get information out of (Y/N).

Bulkhead

Bulkhead tried first.

With miko and him, they tried to do it with music.

They took (Y/N) them on a mission and listened to heavey metal with them.

Even if (Y/N) kept reminding them to focus.

When it got to the end of the mission, they tried to ask (Y/N) straight forward

But (Y/N) just told them to focus on themselves.

Bumblebee

Bumblebee and Ralph was next.

They tried to do it with video games.

They somehow convinced (Y/N) to play a few games with them.

When they started to play, they would watch their reaction on certain games to see if there where some signs.

None.

Arcee

Arcee and jack where next as well.

They decided to try and get information out of (Y/N) by a nice relaxing car drive.

They told (Y/N) that they needed to go scouting and they wanted them to come.

While they drove around, Arcee and Jack asked a few questions here and there.

(Y/N) never gave them a proper response.

Ratchet

He dident ask (Y/N) straight out but he was more blunt then the others.

He asked (Y/N) if they got any injuries in the past, if they had a family, etc.

(Y/N) never responded but just let ratchet do a check up on them.

Once done, (Y/N) says bluntly

"Focus on you're work doctor."

Optimus

For optimus, he never asked (Y/N)

Since he knew everyone has their own story

He only asked when after a mission, (Y/N) snapped and started to yell at the team

After (Y/N) walked away, he would ask what has happened and (Y/N) explained.

They once where in a happy family. They had a partner, sparklings, a home. That was intel the war started.

They lost everything. They watched their sparklings be killed infront of them when decpticons attacked their home.

They served in the autobot army with their partner intel he was killed.

They have been alone for a long time and they learned that showing emotions will get you attached to people who could die in the next hour.

So they chose to stay emotionless. They carr for the team, the team almost feels like a family, that why they need to be ready for anything.

Optimus understood and explained that he agreed, but they could not be so hard on them. They deserve to be happy, and that they are trying. Each of them are fighting for their own things.

He asked (Y/N) to show a bit of emotion since a team must work together, and no good communication is a way to break a team.

(Y/N) agrees to do so. So, when they see the team again, they try to show emotions by smiling awkwardly.

Ya, it scared the team.

They are trying, though.

[paeries]

Sick Of You III — h.s.

[when a boyfriend of two years breaks it off and offers a new arrangement, of course you’ll take it up. this is your prime chance to prove him wrong. and Harry can’t bear to watch it]

[part one is here, part two is here, and i just wanted to say thank you thank you thank you for all the love you’ve shown. this one took a loonnngggg time to hash out because I wanted to give it a good realistic feel to the argument, bc y/n fucked up badddd. so, that being said, i'm hoping i was able to deliver and i really hope you enjoy it xxx]

wc; 13.3k

pairing; harry x reader

cw; friends to lovers au, brief smut, annggsssttttt, harry tears, lots of arguing, drinking, smoking, swearing ALOT of it, we’re not exactly y/n’s biggest fans

pov; y/n, but third person

[pssst…. you can find my masterlist here]

“There y’go, sweet girl.” Harry panted out, his hands cupped under her ass as she rocked back and forth on his cock, the tip practically smushed against her g-spot. “Tha’ feel good?” He hummed, as she buried her face in his neck, her hands gripping tight at his shoulders for leverage. She nodded quickly, gasping out a weak ‘Yes!’ before whimpering against the crook of his neck. “So full, Harry.” She hiccuped and Harry’s head fell back, Y/N taking the opportunity to litter kisses anywhere she could at the newly uncovered area. His hands came up to smooth along her back, one hand finding the soft ends of her hair, his fingers twirling the strands around each digit. He’d learned long ago about how she’d coo and preen into his touch. He had moved his head back to watch her do just that, and watch the goosebumps skirt up her arms. “All mine, dove.” He had hummed against her skin. “Tell me.” He begged, sliding an arm around her waist to lift her up a bit, his hips rocking up into her. He heard her gasp, whine, whimper, everything but what he really wanted to hear. “Tell me, Y/N. Please, tell me you’re mine.” He asked again, peppering kisses across her chest. Just as he found her nipple beginning to suck gently, as he knew would get her to say what he wanted to hear, a lower voice from the corner began to laugh.

“Go on, tell him.”

Harry’s head snapped up, ignoring Y/N’s cries as she came, her hips still rocking against him with her head thrown back.

Mark was standing by the door.

•••

Harry’s eyes flew open, sitting up immediately before scanning the room for his clock that he must’ve kicked to the floor in his sleep. 4:16am. He groaned, his hands reaching up to rub his face before laying back down. Maybe I can stare at the ceiling some more and fall asleep?

“Tell him.” Harry audibly scowled, pulling the pillow over his head. He couldn’t even find peace in his sleep, his own brain won’t let him get the girl while he’s unconscious. Ridiculous, really. At this point, he’d rather just scrap the whole day and try again tomorrow. He didn’t feel like moving. Didn’t feel like sitting up and he didn’t feel like stretching his aching limbs. He certainly didn't feel like pulling his curtains back to let the daylight in, definitely didn’t feel like getting in the shower, didn’t feel like tidying up his living room from the night before, he didn’t feel like doing anything but lay down.

So he did. With the T.V. on whatever was already channelled in, he laid in his bed and let his thoughts drift. If he looked out to the aforementioned curtain covered window, he wondered if it was going to rain, since the sun should’ve begun coming up by now. It had to have been covered in clouds, a perfect start to a shitty morning evidently. He dared look back at the clock. What had felt like it had at least been ten minutes, in fact was a little of an hour had gone by. So, with his throat scratchy, his eyes raw, his head pounding, and feeling like shit, he pushed himself up to trudge into the bathroom despite his lack of motivation. Start with a shower, he thought to himself, as he brought a heavy hand to the knobs before stepping under the water.

Usually, he would let his mind wander. Sometimes long enough for his hands to find his cock, tugging till he found his relief under the water. Now? He shuts his eyes, focusing instead on the feel of the hot water pelting at his skin. If only he could put it all off until tomorrow and stop existing only for the day. He was well aware that the minute he’d let the reins go, his thoughts would return to her.

Yet, Harry suddenly can't seem to catch his breath in the shower, the inevitable tears slipping past his cheeks as hard choking sobs wracked through his body, his forehead resting against the ceramic tiles. Nothing could stop whatever noise clawed its way from his gut and out of his mouth when he thought about the night before. He wasn’t even sure why this time was so much worse than all the others.

Was it because he felt like the end was near? That his efforts paid off, or that it was looking like he’d come out on top after all? That all signs were pointing to yes? Not, watch out for the rug that's about to be ripped away from under your feet? Or was it how stupid he never thought she’d have been to throw away what was obviously the right kind of love? That she'd be so blinded to deny it?

You shouldn’t think like that, it’s not like you don’t love her anymore.

Finally stepping out of the shower, he grabbed whatever clothes his hands found from his drawers and began down the hallway to the kitchen. As Harry brewed himself a cup of coffee, he scrolled through his phone for unanswered texts or calls, even updating himself on the news. Again, anything that allowed his mind to venture away from her. Sure there were things that always reminded him of her but he did his best to steer clear as best he could.

While he waited for the machine to finish, he glanced over his living spaces. Nothing too terrible. There were some empty pizza boxes on the kitchen island (he later learned that someone was kind enough to put the last unopened box of pizza in his fridge along with the drinks), and the chairs were a bit haphazard and the couch was covered in crumbs and pillows. This really shouldn’t take too long to tidy up.

About an hour passed, and Harry had gotten through his second cup of coffee, feeling somewhat better and more alert. At least enough to get the day done and over with. So Harry, after looking at the state of his neglected garden from the window, decided to dip into the closet for his broom to start there. The area hadn’t been used since the summer, and with the snowier months on the way, he thought he’d better tidy it now so it wasn’t so atrocious come next springtime.

By the time he finished and stepped back inside the heated walls, a knock came from his front door. Dread ran through his blood, as he stared at it before hurriedly opening the door, immediate relief rippling through his body when Daphne was revealed to have been standing at the other side.

“Hey, Daph.” He sighed, his head tilted in confusion afterwards. “S’quite early, isn’t it? Why’re you up?” He asked but Daphne shook her head, and he noticed she looked quite frazzled. “Nevermind that, y’busy?” She asked hurriedly. “Not exactly, but,” Harry started before Daphne was pushing past him into his house. “Come on in, I guess.” He muttered, shutting the door to follow her. “Are you cleaning?” She asked immediately and Harry’s eyes widened. He wasn’t exactly awake just enough to have prepared himself for company. “Not deeply, just tidying.” He replied, eyeing her carefully. He couldn’t tell what was wrong with her. She wasn’t as put together as usual. Honestly, she looked quite dishevelled. “Good. I’ll help you.” She answered, going to grab a trash bag to collect the empty beer cans and bottles. Harry waited a second, feeling his confusion grow deeper before grabbing a bag as well.

They cleaned in silence for a while before Daphne, who was now holding paper towels and some sort of spray to wipe the counters. “Y’sleep okay?” She finally asked and Harry straightened up. “Slept fine.” He answered quickly, hoping that was the last question. (Somehow, he wasn’t convinced.)

Silence again, apart from the occasional spraying sound from her surface cleaner. “Because, y’never came back out after you got sick.” Daphne pried again, and Harry let out a loud exhale. “I’m fine, Daphne.” He reiterated, looking at her sternly. He reaaallllyyy did not want to talk about it, especially with Daphne. She had barely paused, still wiping down the tables or setting glasses in the sink. “It’s just that, I-I’m having a hard time believing you, Harry. I know how you get.” She began again and Harry groaned, his head tipping back. “Daphne. I’m fine. S’alright.” He said again, staring at the ceiling as silence filled the room again.

Thank Go—

“What’d y’mean, s’alright, Harry?” Daphne shouted suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed at him in some form of disbelief. Surely, he’s joking, she thought. “It’s not alright, you get that, yeah?” She huffed, shaking her head at him. “That, that, what she’s doing, is, is- She’s stringing you along! I-It’s nasty, it’s cruel!” Her voice climbing higher and higher, until she was shouting.

“Enough, already! Alright? I know what it is, Daphne! But, you popping up out of nowhere at six a.m. and throwing it in my face at volume 10 isn’t helping things either!” Harry snapped, pausing from picking up the pizza boxes and glasses strewn about the coffee table. “I don’t need you to tell me any of this shit, I can handle m’self, thanks.” As much as he tried not to, he took one look at her and guilt rushed over him. “M’sorry, for yelling. I’m just,” He sighed, setting the garbage bag down to free his hands. “I’m trying to get my mind off it, so, it’s just not something that I really want to talk about. I appreciate your concern, I do. But, I think I just want to be alone.” Daphne chewed at the inside of her lip as she listened to him, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t come here to pry. I just wanted to check in.” She finally uttered out, going to finish tidying in the kitchen. “I’m at least going to help you finish first.” She said adamantly. And Harry let out a sigh of relief. That, he could manage. “Thank you, Daph, really.” He reiterated, grateful for the help and now silent company.

By the time Y/N left Jodie’s and arrived at Harry’s, she found that his car was running in the driveway, and his front door seemed to be cracked open by a smidge.

Where was he headed off to? Should I go?

Before another thought could form in her brain, Harry came out in what looked like a hurry, stopping briefly at the sight of her before bounding right past her to the boot of his car.

She stayed still while chewing at the inside of her lip, watching as Harry wrapped up six or seven bags in his arms. Without much acknowledgement, he slid past her again to get in the door. “Would you take the keys out of the ignition for me, this is the last of it.” He grumbled as he passed her. “Sure-,” She sighed, opening his driver door to pull the keys out, the engine shutting down immediately.

After making what felt like a walk of shame to the front door, she froze upon entering. Harry was busying himself with getting the groceries put away, walking back and forth between the bags on the kitchen floor to the fridge or cupboards. Harry was determined not to show her how upset he really was. He wanted to give her the same treatment he had been experiencing from her. Besides the fact, that he was terrified he’d start crying the minute he got a good look at her.

“How have y’been?” He asked, barely taking a glance at her as she shut the door behind her. Just focus on the groceries and the house, he thought to himself. Chairs were still every which way, and Harry had relieved Daphne of her duties about an hour earlier once she finished mopping, so he could manage to pop out to the store and grab some groceries for the week. Organising his apartment, unfortunately, took a brief back corner.

Y/N had stepped in, cautious to watch him as he moved over his apartment. “Have t’say that I’ve felt better.” She mumbled, choosing to stay in the entryway and out of his way. “That so?” Harry replied, his jaw clenching. It was clear that she wasn’t going to let it blow past another day. He decided to prepare himself for the second argument of the day.

“Yeah, um, Harry?” She said hurriedly, wringing her hands together to try and work up the nerve. Harry sighed, ducking his head in the fridge to keep himself busy. “Yeah,” He said dejectedly. There’s no running from it now.

“I wanted to apologise for leaving everyone in the dark last night.” There it was. Harry felt his teeth begin to grind against one another, and he turned to collect some of the emptied reusable bags amongst the others to put them away for his next trip. He hated the plastic bags.

Maybe we could distract ourselves with our thoughts long enough to tune her out?

“It was a rough night, and,” she paused for a moment, “Clearly, I had had a major lapse in judgement.” He feels like his blood's boiling a degree or so higher with every word coming out of her mouth.

He clears his throat, “It’s fine, Y/N.” Can’t you take a hint?

“But it’s not fine, and,” She goes on, but Harry isn’t listening. He knows she's still talking and he’s fully tuned out, but he can’t stomach this much longer. He knew what she was saying without even listening. It was always some excuse, or half-assed ‘Sorry’. So, trying everything he could to cut her off, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” he griped, hoping that was enough to let her know to back off. What was everyone’s deal? Wanting to talk about it? When did everybody start caring about it?

“Harry, I’m sorry,” She began again, “you’re clearly angry, so just let me,” Harry’s loud groan interrupted her again as he lifted a hand to stop her, “Just stop, yeah?! Sorry?” He spat, “Sorry’s not good enough! You can’t just say- M’tired,” He seethed, “Of hearing how sorry you are. This time, sorry won’t fix it. S’just too soon.” His long legs carried him to the living room to bring a chair back to the kitchen table along with a few wine glasses to sit in the sink, desperate to find something to busy himself with. Anything to avoid this exact argument.

“Wow, y’sound like Daphne.” She muttered, and what meant to sound like a lighthearted joke to lighten the mood, now sounded bitter and demeaning as she now understood, shutting her eyes tight when she saw his head snap back to her. “What?” He asked carefully, taking a few steps in her direction. “What did you just say?” She’d never seen him so angry, taking a few steps backwards as well. “I-I- I didn’t mean,” She stuttered, chewing at her lip when her back met the front door. “Cos’ t’me? Sounded like you had somethin’ snippy to say, and I’d say that you’re in no place to make petty remarks. Especially, when asking me to forgive you all while you stand there, mottled with bruises and hickeys from him.” He spat, shaking his head at her. “How stupid do you think I am?” His head tilted at her, finally backing up to continue unpacking the bags from the store in the kitchen, even laughing as he did. “Hilarious.” He laughed out, glancing back at her before laughing again as he dug through the groceries.

“I-I don’t- think you’re stupid, that’s,” she sighed, starting again with a concentrated breath, “I know you’re angry. And, I know that I deserve to hear it.”

It made his head spin. The same way it always did when he would put his argument aside and give in. Harry could feel his blood bubbling with anger, with hurt, sadness, all of it coming to a head. Before he could do anything to stop it; he turned around again.

“No, what you deserve is each other.” He spat, immediately regretting the words the minute they came out. He knew it sounded morose and beneath him. But he wouldn’t take it back. He was angry, he is angry. Her eyes went wide, opening her mouth before closing it shortly after taking a few steps towards him again. “I-I,” She began again and he watched as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursed as her eyes danced around the floor before continuing, “You used me! I can’t continue to be the backup, Y/N! That’s all I am! When he doesn't want you, I’m suddenly good enough. Do I matter that little to you?” He felt like he was gasping for air, suffocating slowly and desperate for relief.

She stopped in her tracks, “Of course not, Harry. You know how I feel about you.” She couldn’t think of a time when Harry didn’t matter to her. So her confusion, trying to understand where everything went so wrong, left her at a loss. How she couldn’t see when it went wrong. If she had just talked to Jodie months ago, would they be standing at arms with one another? She’s never seen Harry like this before, ever. The normally cool, calm, collected and goofy Harry, was now hard-eyed, rigid, and cold. Hurt.

Harry scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her. “When?! When have I ever known how you feel about me? When was I something other than your plan b?!” He spat after turning back around, angrily putting cans in the cupboard and throwing frozen vegetables in the freezer. “Worst part is that I fucking knew what was going to happen at breakfast that morning! I knew it!” She thought she was hearing things, but she swore she could hear a choked whimper in his voice. Y/N pursed her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t believe this, Harry. Everytime he cancelled on me, I called you. Anytime he said or did something wrong, I wanted your company. It wasn’t about the sex.”

Harry felt like throwing a full-blown tantrum as he turned around, his eyes widening. “Jesus, so what? Y’telling me I ought to be grateful then?” He quipped, staring at her.

“Of course not! I’m trying to say that I always wanted you around. And that, maybe sometimes, I was happy Mark would cancel.” She explained but Harry wasn’t buying it. “You’re something fucking else, y’know that? ‘Maybe sometimes?’ Fuckin’..” He huffed, deciding to leave it there as he went back to rinsing the wine glasses in the sink. “It’s my fault, I should've got out sooner. My bad.” He spat, leering at her over his shoulder.

“Why did you stay then?!” She yelled, her eyes boring into his back, her frustration reaching its peak. “If there were a million reasons to stop like you make it out to be, why did you stay?!” Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on now. Don’t be daft.” He huffed, shutting the water off to turn to her again, drying his hands on the hand towel over his shoulder. “No, seriously! Why?!”

His eyes met hers, searching hers to try to figure out if she was being serious or not. If she was making some cruel point. “Do you really want to know?!” “Yes!” She breathed, throwing her arms in the air exasperatedly. “Do you?! You’re sure?!” “Jesus, Yes, Harry. I want to know!”

“I,” He paused for a moment to collect himself, “M’- I am in love with you.” He managed in one exhale, his body taut and tense as he looked at her.

Silence for a moment, In love? “Harr-”

“There is no ‘I think’ or ‘maybe’ or ‘could I be’, I am in love with you.” He was breathing heavily now, and deeply thankful she was keeping her distance because he was sure he’d have bursted into tears by now. “If I were Mark, I’d have married you by Month 3.” He practically growled, pained by the comparison. Harry knew full well Mark would never be a quarter of the man he was. “Unfortunately, I haven’t got the money, as we all know, but, I like to think I do well enough on my own.” He was breathing heavily, staring at her fiercely. That was a low one to hurl but he couldn’t stop himself. A full year of his misery, and now she had to make him tell her like this?

“The money?!” She was glaring now, her hands finally settling on the island counter opposite him. “I don’t give a fuck about the money, Harry. I never have, and y’know that. My mother introduced us because she knows his family. Just so happened, I fucking fell in love with him!” Harry rolled his eyes and it only fueled her on. “Right, shocking. As if you’d know what love was if it had landed in your lap.” He spat sarcastically, turning again to flip the tap back on to go back to the last few dishes left.

“Harry, I came here to tell you that I love you.” She admitted, causing Harry to flinch. Something he’d once die to hear, now he couldn’t take seriously. ”No, you don’t.” He groaned, pained to even have to reject it, his lips pulling tight to stop himself from saying anything else. “Yes, I do.” She repeated, her voice catching an irritated tone. Harry couldn’t take it, she just kept pressing, and pressing. “I want to believe you, I do,” He said, his hands shaking while scrubbing the pots and pans. “but, I can’t, not anymore.”

“You can’t- What do you mean you can’t believe me?” She breathed out, bringing her hands up to brush the hair messed around the frame away from her face, the weight of this argument growing heavy. They’d hardly argued before, and never before to this degree. “I can’t believe you when you say you love me. I believe you care for me, or about me, or whatever.” He paused, swallowing thickly so as not to break down. “I don’t believe you’d ever give me an honest chance.” He admitted, his head hanging as he leaned against the kitchen sink, refusing to look at her.

She laughed almost incredulously, “Why not?” And Harry splits, “Because of Mark!” He barked at her, spinning around to finally face her. “It’s always Mark! You've never even considered me as an option!”

“Not once did you ever even contemplate it!” He was seething now, unsure as to how he could possibly get her to grasp a fraction of an idea as to how bad she's hurt him. “What do you want me to do, Harry! I can’t go back in time! I’m apologising now!”

“Oh, Christ, Y/N- They’re just fucking words! If that’s all you have for me, you’d better just go.” He admitted, a mixture of sadness and disappointment etched across his features.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to collect herself. “What do you want, Harry?” As she finally spoke, her voice was timid and defeated, and as Harry’s voice boomed over, she jumped.

“I wanted to be first!” He shouted, veins popping out on his neck from the force. “I wanted you!” His chest was heaving, fully unloading his anger. “Every time I think about you, Y/N, my chest hurts. Like, like someone is stepping on it. Especially when I think about you with him! It’s killing me, and I thought, I-I thought that I could,” He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, deciding he had shared enough. He said what he felt he had to say.

She didn’t really know what to say, taken aback by his outburst. “I’m-,” She managed before Harry decided he had enough. “I think you should leave.” He muttered, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Harry,” She tried, even going as far as to take a step closer to him. “Get out.” Whatever sorrow she thought he could be feeling was so clearly gone. Now, he stood in front of her, tense and angry.

“Leave! I’m tired of this!” I can’t trust you anymore.

“H-Harry, I can’t lea- m’not leaving.” She tried again, begging herself not to let the tears fall. “Now you’re crying?!” Harry barked, reaching up to move his hair from his eyes, tugging as his fingers reached the ends. Rage surged through his body, grabbing her keyring off the counter to take his home key.

He snatched his own keys off the hook to take her house key off, linking it back onto her keyring. “I’m dead serious, Y/N, leave.” He said, cursing himself at the way his voice shook. He knew how scary he could look when he got angry like this, catching a glimpse of his reflection one time in an argument at work.

After pushing her keys back into her hands, he opened the front door and waited, his teary and red-rimmed eyes trained to the ground in front of him. “I-I’ll, I’ll earn it back, Harry. I promise, I-I’ll get the key back.” She murmured, as she walked past him out the door reluctantly. “I swear I’ll prove it.”

Harry managed a small half smile that bordered on sarcastic through his blank stare, hoping she would but still doubtful. “I guess we’ll see.” He gritted, shutting the door immediately afterwards before the unshed tears creating a gloss over his eyes finally fell. Only standing there another few seconds before going back to the distraction of cleaning his apartment again.

“Jod?” She called, stumbling through her best friend's house while fumbling to put the keys in her pocket. “Jooooodddddd!” She giggled out, her vision fuzzed enough as it is without it being pitch black.

Jodie opened her bedroom door quickly, “Y/N? Is that you?” She mumbled, knuckling at her eyes to make sure it was in fact, her drunk best friend. “D’y’know it’s about four in the morning?” A giggle came from the kitchen, as well as some glasses clinking. “Is it?” Y/N hummed, finally finding the kitchen while blindly feeling around for the lightswitch. “Goooot iiiit.” She sang before flipping the light on.

Jodie grabbed a robe, tying it across her waist and shuffled down the hall. “Are you drunk?” A good question, as she was slurring her words while pouring up another drink from her cabinet. “Is Daphne ‘ere?” Y/N hummed, teetering to one side momentarily. “No. Why don’t y’sit down and we can talk about it?” Jodie tried again, reaching for her friend's arm to tug her into the living room.

As both the girls sat down, the room fell quiet. “Talked to erm- Harry.” Y/N muttered, lifting her glass to her lips for a sip. “And?” Jodie asked, leaning forward to lower the other girl's glass. “C’mon, s’just me, relax.” She pressed and frowned as she watched the girl shake her head, more to herself than to Jodie. Y/N scoffed, standing up again to look for her speaker. “It's just us here, right?” She asked again, and Jodie furrowed her brows. “Yes, Daph’s out for the night but I don’t see why that matt-” And suddenly she was cut off by music. “I knew I’d regret giving you the house key.” She muttered to herself, knowing the music was too loud for her friend to hear her.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Have t’say, I’ve seen this kind of behaviour before.” Jodie said after standing up to turn it down. “I talked to Harry.” She repeated, giggling as she did so. “He looked sad. Sooo, sooooo beautiful, but sad.” She sighed, pouting before sitting against the couch’s arm rest. “Everything they said, s’true.” She muttered, staring into her lap as she swirled the liquid around the glass. “Y/N…” Jodie began, “I don’t know where this is go-,” Jodie stopped, as she was interrupted again. “I’m a terri- ‘hiccup’ -terrible person.”

Jodie took a breath, and decided to try again. “Just because you made a bad decision, doesn’t make you a terrible person.” Jodie sighed, somewhat pleased she was able to finish her two cents as she leaned her head against her palm.

“Jodie?” Y/N murmured, hardly looking up from the glass in her lap. “Yeah?” Her friend answered, her head snapping up at the mere thought of her best friend opening up. (Or the exhaustion, it was nearly 4am after all.) “I think I missed my chance.” Y/N whimpered, “I mean, he hates me. I thought I was goin’ over there to tell him what we,'' a hiccup interrupting her, “we had talked about.” She hummed, taking a quick breath to continue. “Was not the case.” She breathed out, shaking her head sadly at the memory of the fight.

“Y/N, I don’t think he hates you.” Jodie repeated, sighing before leaning back against the couch cushions with a soft yawn. “Jod, I’ve never seen him so angry. Ever.” Y/N mumbled, playing with the rings on her fingers. “I’ve just been an awful, awful, person lately. And, I know s’late a-and I wouldn’t normally be here. Becos’ usually, I can go to ‘arry’s. But I fucked that up for m’self, didn’t I.”

“He’s hurt.” Jodie reminded again. “Y/N, you realise that you’ve become his own Mark?”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?” She gasped, and her friend forgave the dramatics, chalking it up to her level of intoxication. “Don’t ‘what’ me.” Jodie laughed, sighing after she caught her breath. “Seriously, you did damn near everything Mark did to you. Whether or not you meant to, is not the issue. You did it, and you need to make it right.” Y/N frowned, reaching for her glass again. Jodie sighed and lowered it again. “And, this? This is not how you make it right. Straighten yourself up. M’not letting you go down this road again, and definitely not when it's from your own doing.” She stood, taking the rocks glass and brought it to the kitchen. “Now, what kind of sandwich would you like?” She asked curtly, dumping the remnants of the glass in the sink before turning to open the fridge and fish out the necessary items. “I’d like you sober now.”

———

Now that Jodie had been certain she had somewhat sobered her friend up, she settled on the couch with a blanket strewn across her lap. Y/N was eating a carefully crafted turkey and brie toastie with a glass of water, laid across the other couch. The two girls were watching some of the ‘007 movie series to settle back down for the night. Jodie was undoubtedly closer to sleep than Y/N, but she didn’t mind staying up with her if it brought her friend some solace. Of all the times she could remember, (other than recent unfortunate events) Y/N had never let her down. Always there, even when her mother died, Jodie actually had to send her on random ‘quests’ to find some alone time in those first few months. “Jodie, I couldn’t imagine going through what you’re going through and keep the same…. Jodie-ness about you.” She’d said all those years ago. They were young, just freshly in the middle of their college careers. In all honesty, Jodie had stayed ‘Jodie’ because she had Y/N. As silly as her statement was at the time, it truly summarised her most valued friendship.

“What are you thinking about?” Y/N suddenly asked, and Jodie lifted her head, “Are you asking me?” She giggled, “You never ask!” She admitted when she received a ‘duh’ and Y/N shrugged, pursing her lips. “Well, you’ve been practically counselling me for the past week and a half and I haven’t asked. S’been eating at me for a while.” Y/N explained, watching as Jodie frowned. “I just, I know you’ve been dealing with a lot too. About the house and,” To her relief, Jodie cut her off. “That’s okay. Your little dilemma offers a much appreciated distraction if we’re being honest. I’ll be okay, I’ve got time.” She explained through another yawn. “You, however, are fucking up left and right hourly.” Jodie teased and somehow successfully dodged a throw pillow tossed her way.

“I wish you would just cry and that could be it. Y’have to get confusing and block everybody out.” Jodie huffed, cracking a smile at her friend who feigned shock. “Honestly!” She laughed, Y/N joining along. “I’m not doing it to push people away, I just hate to complain about something so trivial. I mean, Daphne’s moving for her new job, stressful. You have this house to worry about securing, I-I mean, I can’t leave a man alone if it killed me. All the while, mucking up a great relationship with a guy that actually cared about me enough to at least try and wait it out. That’s done with.” Y/N huffed, her face burying into her hands. “It’s just embarrassing, that this is my life issue.”

“Your life issue?” Jodie laughed, “I somehow doubt that this is it for you, Drama Queen.” She giggled again at the thought, shaking her head. “I’m gonna try to fall asleep, you nutcase. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Love you, Jodie.” Y/N hummed, standing to collect the plates and glasses to set down in the kitchen. The very least she could do was fix her kitchen back up after she barged in and woke her friend from a dead sleep.

—

When Daphne walked in the door the next morning and saw Y/N on the couch, she immediately stormed down the hall to Jodie’s room, who had gotten up just an hour prior to go to her bed. “Jodie!” She whispered, opening her door a crack to poke her head in. “Get up! Right now, get up!”

Jodie groaned, whining as she flipped over, pulling her pillow over her head. Daphne walked over to her bed and pulled the pillow away. “Y/N is on our couch!” She huffed, Jodie grumbling out, “Yes.”

“So! What is she doing here?!” Daphne huffed, setting her hands on her hips. “Christ, Daph, does it look like I’m alert and ready for the day?” She complained and Daphne pulled the blankets back. “I’m serious!”

“She got drunk and came over in the middle of the night, we talked and fell asleep. What is the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I’m pissed off at her! So I’d like to know if and when she’s here.” She explained, irritance written across her face. “And I still live here too!”

“Stop it, Daph! She wasn’t here for you, she was just here to talk. You weren’t even here last night.” Jodie grumbled, blindly reaching for her covers. “Well, I’m leaving. Text me when she leaves.” Daphne huffed, leaving Jodie’s room to duck into her own to collect the things she’d need for the day, showering and dressing before slipping back out the door. (She did, however pack a bag with her ‘daily essentials’, her hair and makeup products. She absolutely couldn’t risk taking any longer.)

“Thank you.” Jodie grumbled, before burying herself back against her bed.

—

“Hey you’re up! I was just getting my things to head out.” Y/N hummed at the sight of her tired looking friend.

“Yeah, might need another nap.” Jodie yawned, going to the fridge for a glass of water. “Daphne’s mad at you.” She added, turning to look at her friend. “I figured, she hasn’t been answering my texts.” Y/N sighed, taking her keys and wallet. “She ever tell you why?” She pried, chewing at her lip. “I mean, I know why, but,” She sighed again, shrugging.

“Well, s’the same shit. I’m assuming she’ll have to talk to me about it at some point. Dunno why shes so pro-Harry all of a sudden.” Jodie answered, “Thinkin’ she thinks this is her chance?”

“Not my business.” Her friend replied curtly, pressing her lips together before taking a step to the door. “Well, I convinced Cade to come pick me up to take me home and he’s here so, I’m just going to try and pretend everything's okay for a little while longer. I’ll see you later Jodie. Thank you, again, and m’sorry again for keeping you up.” Y/N apologised, before she stepped out to meet Cade at the end of her drive.

Jodie sighed, shutting the door and headed to the kitchen to start a kettle for some tea. It always put her in the mood for a nap. With her tea ready, she shuffled to the couch to collapse against it after carefully sitting the cup on the table in front of her. “Peace,” She hummed, “and quiet.” before settling for another rest.

Somehow she had spoken too soon, the front door was opened again and Jodie grumbled something incoherent about having been so close to sweet sleep. “Is she gone?” Daphne’s voice rang through the entryway. “Jesus Chr- Yes, Daph, she left about ten minutes ago! You practically passed her, how long are you gonna keep this up?”

“As long as I feel is necessary.” Daphne countered, heading to the kitchen to set her bags down. “What’s all this?” Jodie asked when she sat up, shuffling to the kitchen to look at what her housemate brought home from the store.

“Went out to the store, grabbed some stuff. Are you hungry? It’ll be some sort of an orzo pasta salad.” Daphne shrugged, pulling the ingredients out of the bags, as well as pulling out the necessary pots and utensils.

“I suppose,” Jodie yawned again. “Let me get cleaned up and dressed, I’ll help you.” She muttered, taking her tea to the room to shower and change. “No, no, get your rest, shouldn’t take too long. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” Daphne called as the other headed down the hall.

—

“And that’s it, it says, Chill overnight or serve as is.” Daphne read off her phone, “I’m hungry now, so as is it is.” She snickered to herself, setting her phone to the side to give a few final stirs before turning the burner off. “Jod! S’about ready, now or never! M’starving.” She called out, loud enough that she was sure her friend could hear her clearly. “Coming!” Daphne heard back, muffled as it was, as she began to run cold water over the orzo before mixing the vegetables, cheese cubes and dressing.

Before long, Jodie came down the hall with a swiftness. “Been smelling it for ages wondering when you’d call me down.” She hummed, “Looks amazing, Daph.” Jodie praised, taking the time to give her friend a good once over. “Hey,” Jodie began cautiously, “You okay?” Daphne huffed, cleaning up the counters' surface. “Yeah, Jod. I’m perfectly fine.” She sighed, disappointedly. “You could have at least let me accept your compliment before you dug into me.” She mused, rolling her eyes, worrying now that their lunch was ruined. Jodie stared at her for a moment, blinking every now and then. “You realise everything you’re currently doing is in fact not fine?”

“Okay, I’m not. It’s not like it matters. Nobody listens to me anyways.” Daphne grumbled, taking her seat after passing a bowl to Jodie. “What’s your problem then? You’ve been as irritable as ever for the past three days.” Jodie asked, her brows furrowed with confusion.

“Because! You baby her! Let her get off the easy way and she’s in the wrong. I don’t care if she cries or begs, she fucked up and she deserves to hear about it.” Daphne sighed, shaking her head gently in thought.

“Yeah, Daphne, but some people learn differently. How can you expect someone to learn from their mistakes if you throw them to the wind and never give them the chance to fix it?” Jodie asked, still leaned against the counter as she watched Daphne clear the kitchen and turn the light off to sit at the breakfast counter. “And, I don’t baby her.”

"Oh, come on. Why’d y’think she stuck with Mark? She likes playing games, and she doesn't care about the victims of those games; even when they're her own best friends." Daphne griped, finally taking a bite from her bowl. “I’m not sure why you act like she’s been like this for your entire friendship.” Jodie counters, both unimpressed and growing irritated with how her friend is speaking about their supposed shared friend.

“She practically has! She was always the nicest, the smartest, everybody loves her. Even while making the most colossal mistakes!” Daphne groaned, rolling her eyes. “I love her, I do, like I would my sister! But I make one measly misstep and I’m done for. It’s time she gets a little bit of reality.”

“There’s reality, and then there’s meanness.” Jodie shrugged, grabbing a spoon to sit down with her friend. “And Daph, you’ve made tons of measly mistakes, and the world never ended, nor did we ever throw you out.”

The group met at the Stumble close to a week and some days later, and the night was getting into its usual spring, with Cade drunk and slumped at the bar booth they sat at. Unfortunately, Cade lost another shot challenge to Jodie, as usual, and it had left him incapacitated for the evening.

With Daphne at the bar and Cade practically asleep, Y/N scooted closer to Jodie. “I fucked up.” She whispered and Jodie’s eyes widened, “Do not tell me you slept with Mar-,” Y/N shook her head quickly, watching for Daphne. “No! Nice vote of confidence, that, thanks. No, I went to Harry’s last night to drop off a pizza, he said he didn’t get to eat so I thought it’d be a peace offering.” Jodie nodded, leaning in closer to hear her better. “He had a girl over.” Y/N murmured, watching as Jodie’s eyes widened again. “Harry did?!” She practically shouted, “Yes, shh! Not too loud, Daphne’s coming back. Mums the word, Jod, I mean it.” Y/N winced at the memory, reliving the humiliation all over again before shooting a glare at her friend and straightened up as Daphne began walking back over.

“What are you doin’ ’ere, Y/N?” He hushed, his breath leaving him at the sight of her. She had a box of pizza in her arms and a hopeful smile. “Y’said you hadn’t ate today, thought I’d bring some pizza for you.” She explained, her eyes holding his for a minute before she began feeling her cheeks heat up. As she looked around to avoid his stare, she caught sight of a jacket on the coat rack and a thin silked scarf. Brown leather, that looked far too small to fit around his broad shoulders. Harry’s stomach dropped, and he felt his mouth go dry. “Thank you, but uh, s’not really a good time. Could I call you tomorrow?” His heart was hammering, thumping through his eardrums. Y/N could feel herself deflate, putting the pieces together. His hair wasn’t dishevelled from napping, he had a girl over and she was interrupting their date. Her eyes widened and she began nodding, “Yeah! No worries,” She assured him and handed him the pizza box. Harry felt like he could die right there, his arms taking the box from her out of shock. Why tonight? Of all nights?

“It’s for you, I uh, already ate.” Come on now, Y/N. Just get out of there already! “Er, right. Talk to you tomorrow.” She muttered again and awkwardly turned to get back down the driveway to her car, walking as fast as she could without obviously running.

Harry watched as she retreated back to the car and groaned, shutting the door. “Everything alright?” His brown haired guest asked, coming down his stairs in one of his shirts. They had hardly gotten very far, really. The doorbell chiming just as the woman, Claire?, had broken their makeout to remove her shirt. Harry sighed, looking to the box and grumbled. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He managed to make the trip to the kitchen and set the box down on the island. “You ordered a pizza?” She asked, coming up behind him to look from around his shoulder, before taking a sip of her wine. Harry tensed and rolled his shoulders back to get her off them. “Sorta,” He sighed, ”Listen, m’really sorry, but I’m not feeling too well. Could I order a ride share to come pick you up?” He asked, feeling as though his legs were cemented to the floor under him. Her eyebrows furrowed, and he could tell how awkward the air got. “Uh, sure? Are you alright, Harry?”

“Er, not really, m’so sorry but,” He sighed, shaking his head at himself. “I’ll help you grab your things.” He murmured, picking his phone up to order a ride for her. The woman, looking very confused, began to gather her things and slip her boots on. “Did I do something wrong?” She paused when she got to the doorway, looking at him for some better explanation. “No, no, really, believe me. It’s my fault. I’ll give you a call.” He added, chewing at his lip just desperate to get this girl out of his home.

“Anyone know if Harry’s coming by tonight?” Y/N asked, sipping cautiously at her drink as she watched her friends turn their attention to her. She really just wanted to apologise to him for intruding and that she hoped it didn’t ruin his night, as crushing as that reality felt. There was a lot she wanted to apologise for, the list just keeps growing by the day.

Daphne giggled as she returned, clearly having just caught her question. “Well, I imagine he has other friends, Y/N. He’s probably out with them.” She snipped, setting the drinks on the table and took her seat next to her date she decided to bring along impromptu. Y/N grimaced at her answer, of course he has other friends, lots of other friends.

The two girls haven't been on the best of terms, hardly speaking to one another if Daphne didn’t have something snarky to say. Jodie tried her best to dispute any minor arguments, for the sake of the two's friendship. They’ve butted heads before but they’d also gotten over worse situations. The fact that Daphne seemed to be going out of her way to bring it up, had Jodie on edge the past week. And Harry hadn’t texted Y/N nor had he really been seen in the same amount of time. The last time he came out with the group, he had to leave early after he began introducing the group to a random girl he met by the bar that looked a lot like Y/N, even going as far to introduce her as The Nice Y/N, the poor thing, after having a bit too much to drink. From then on, if he did come out, he never stayed long.

“Chill out, Daph.” Jodie spoke up, eyes practically searing at Daphne. “Y’sound jealous.” She giggled, playing it off as a joke effortlessly for her date whose eyes went wide at the accusation.

Most of the group rolled their eyes, preparing for another gruesome catfight between the two girls. Peace was found few and far between nowadays, Daphne just wouldn’t drop it.

The truth was, Harry was out with some of his other friends. A rehearsal party for a wedding in Italy to be exact. One he had planned to take Y/N to when he got the invitation a few months or so prior, but, well… that played out the way it did all on its own.

So, as he sat on his own at the full service open bar, making friends with the hired bartender. “Think I can get another one of those pomegranate things, mate?” Harry asked, having just finished his first drink. “What’s in it, by the way?” The bartender smiled, setting out the bottles he used for the drinks. “Bit of Prosecco, the pomegranate liqueur, and some white rum. Garnish and whatever else.” He shrugged. “Agli sposi è piaciuto molto.” Harry sighed and nodded, taking the drink besides not knowing what he had actually said. “Salute” He said before taking a big gulp. “Make that two of these.” He gritted, raising his glass.

———

“So, did you come here with someone?” Harry asked, staring into his glass. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been sitting on the ground with…Luca, and Luca, as he found out, didn’t speak great English, but he’d been doing well thus far. And surely, it could’ve gone smoother had alcohol not been involved.

Luca’s brows furrowed, shaking his head at him. Harry frowned, trying to remember some basic keywords he tried to learn while on the plane. “Erm…fidanzata?” Harry tried and Luca nodded, turning his head to look for his girlfriend. “Mia ragazza, Vita, è seduta lì. Over there.” Luca repeated in his best English after noticing Harry’s confused look. “Ahh, ‘Ve got a girl, whooo, by the way,” He mused as he sat on the floor by the bar, leaning against the wall for stability. His head falling heavy on his neck as he gave in to his memory, those pomegranate things…or whatever they were seemed to be working their way through him. “Would’ve looked gorgeous tonight. Could’ve outdone the bride-to-be.” He hummed, lifting his head to take another gulp of his drink and loosen the tie around his neck. “Probably best I didn’t bring ‘er after all, isn’t it?” He laughed out, letting his heavy head fall back again, his hand coming up to run a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Would’ve left early, back to the ‘otel,” He hummed, his eyes fluttering closed, “Jesus Christ, she’d give the sloppiest blowj-“ He was interrupted by a sudden weight at his knees. When Harry quickly opened his eyes and looked down, a dog had laid its head on his lap.

As he looked around, the guy he thought he was talking to from the groom’s side was nowhere to be found. “I thought we were bonding, Luca!” Harry laughed out to nobody, his hands scratching behind the dog's ears. “S’a good thing you stopped me, far too young to hear about all that yet. Where’d you even come from?” He laughed to himself.

To: Y/N

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N turned over in her bed, her phone buzzing on her bedside table had lifted her out of her pathetic half sleep. She grumbled to herself in annoyance, knuckling at her tired eyes before pushing herself up in the bed. Finding the lamp's knob to turn it on, she reached over to grab her phone.

*Message from Harry*

Her brows furrowed, rubbing at her eyes again to clear her hazy vision before unlocking her phone to view the message.

From: Harry

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N let out an involuntary giggle, trying to ignore the daunting question forming in her head as she wondered what exactly that dog got to hear.

She stared at the message for a while, glancing at the time before tapping on the character field to type out her reply.

To: Harry

am I supposed to laugh? because that’s funny

I hope he didn’t bill you for the therapy

Harry chortled embarrassingly as he read her text, staggering down the hall of his hotel until he got to his door. The shock that he normally would have felt, had he not drank as much as he had, was nowhere to be found. If he was sober, he’d surely not have sent any text whatsoever like he bad been doing. He just missed her, annoyingly. Nevermind the aches and pains from the memory, apparently, going more than a week without talking to her hurts more. He rolls his eyes at that, “Go figure.” He muttered to himself.

Once the door was unlocked and opened, he trudged inside, yanking at his tie to slide it off his neck while looking at her reply. “Y’could’ve been here wiv’me.” He mumbled to himself, sighing as he toed off his dress shoes, stepping out to the balcony for a few quick puffs of a cigarette to ease his nerves. Cefalù, Sicily seemed to have gone quiet for the night, apart from some clubs and bars, and a few stragglers still at the beach, surprisingly quieter than he had expected. Harry sighed, looking over the view as he took a drag, snubbing it out and tossing it in the trash before dipping back inside to finish getting undressed for bed.

His thumbs fiddled around his keyboard for a few minutes, and he decided to send whatever echoed in his head, pressing send before another moment could go by and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

To: Y/N

I wish you could be here.

He had only sent the message just over a minute ago but the anticipation was eating away at him, nevermind the fact that he was pretty drunk from the four, or was it five? He lost track after the conga line. Needless to say, the pomegranate drinks did their job well.

His thumb immediately hit the call button, putting it to speakerphone as he attempted again to undo his buttoned dress shirt. One ring, two rings, three… four… Is this a bad idea?

“Harry?” He could hear her whisper, and he held his breath. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. She sounded like she was asleep and he brought his hands up to rub across his face. “Shit, m’sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’ about if you’d been asleep.” He started but Y/N was quick to cut him off. “No, m’not, I haven’t,” She sighed, starting her sentence again with an amused giggle. “I hadn’t been to sleep yet.”

Harry hummed, taking a seat on his temporary bed for the remainder of the week. “Havin’ trouble?” He asked hesitantly. She snickered, propping her pillows upright so she could lean against them. “Something like that.”

There was a few seconds of silence, the both of them somehow content with the knowledge that the other was there.

“Did you have something to say, Harry?” She asked timidly, unsure why he was calling her at 3am. She could hear him take in a deep breath on the other line, and she sunk further into her bed as she waited anxiously. “N-Not that I’m trying to get off the call, o-or anythin,” Harry laughed, effectively stopping her rambling. “I really don’t have anything else to say.” He admitted as laid himself down, and tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his stomach when she giggled.

“Why? Because you said it all to a dog already?” She giggled out, the line on the other end going quiet, deathly quiet.

—

“Did you mute me to laugh? Or were you just acting like I was funny this whole time?” She countered, her eyebrows furrowing.

A faint click was heard and Harry’s giggling voice rang through the phone again. “As if you know me.” He laughed out, sighing as he relaxed on the bed. She giggled, pursing her lips as she thought of anything else to keep the conversation going. “Oh! How was the wedding?”

Harry hummed, exhaling as he prepared to answer. “S’tommorow, so we’ll be expected to be fully sober and prepared. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner, or party, or whatever they called it. M’hopin they’ll have more of that pomegranate drink they had tonight.” Y/N snickered, thankful they were on the phone so he couldn’t see the stupid grin plastered across her lips. “I wanted you here with me.” She could hear him murmur and sighed at his admission, her eyes shutting closed as she laid on her bed. “I hope m’not keeping you up.” He spoke again, suddenly remembering there was a time zone difference. Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “No! No, you’re only an hour ahead, Harry. I’m technically keeping you up.”

“Have I mentioned how beautiful it is here? I know m’pretty trashed, but seriously. The pictures don’t do it justice.” She had seen the pictures, the sunsets, the meals, the giggly videos uploaded to a story she was somehow still allowed to see.

Y/N sighed, staring at her ceiling as she listened. “I can imagine, are you near the beach?” She hummed, tucking her legs up closer under the covers so she could turn slightly to look out her window; a true fashioned England thunderstorm was reaching its peak. “Well, I’ve got a slight view where our hotel is, but the wedding will be closer when we head that way tomorrow evening.” He hummed, finally laying in his own bed.

“It’s raining here, thundering, actually.” She sighed, her bottom lip tucking under her teeth as she looked to twirl her rings around her fingers. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. There were a few nights that they spent together during a storm, some of the best time he’d argue they ever had. The house would inevitably get colder, and they’d have food prepared, movies downloaded and flashlights nearby. Harry would get a fire going in the fireplace, and they’d sit on the couch with all their snacks, waiting the storm out.

Here comes the ache. It felt like shutting down, the way his brain cut that train of thought, the memories. He shouldn’t have called. “I can imagine.” Harry repeated, a low rasp settling in his voice as exhaustion began to set in his body. “Harry?” He heard her soft voice through the receiver, her tone letting him know what was coming. “Y’ought to get some sleep, Y/N.” He sighed, reaching up to turn his light out.

“I’ve tried.” She murmured, clearing her throat after a moment of silence. “Well, try again.” He hummed, setting an arm behind his head. She snickered herself before laying back down in her bed. “Yeah. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry frowned, brows knitted together before uttering out “Goodnight.” just before the call ended.

“I’m tellin’ you, all of a sudden everyone was gone, and it was just me and the dog!” Harry laughed out, leaning back against the backrest of the booth, listening to the confusion and laughter spread amongst the group.

He looks so good. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Italy did him well, a full tan across his skin. He was truly glowing. Thank God he was telling a story so no one else would notice her absolutely staring at him. And she wished she could pay attention to what he was saying, because everyone was hysterical around her. So much so, that now it was clear she hadn’t been paying attention. She faked a laugh, looking around at everyone else in order to gauge just how funny the conversation got.

“And you didn’t realise everyone was leaving?” Jodie laughed out, a little more than skeptical at his story. “Or the lights dimming?! Music stopping?” Harry laughed and shook his head, “Not at all! Hand over my heart, s’them drinks! Which, I’ll be recreating as best I can because they were phenomenal.” He sighed, going over (to the best of his ability, in hindsight he probably shouldve asked the bartender to just write the ingredients down) what was put in those drinks.

“Italy was beautiful, I mean, everything was gorgeous. The food, the villages, I mean, my God.” Harry sighed, his hand placed over his heart. “I’ll miss it.”

Y/N was busy with her drink when she felt a nudge under the table. Her head snapped up, finding Jodie who had locked eyes with her, a smirk placed on her lips before mouthing ‘worldly experience’. A small gesture to cheer her up, something she had always loved about Jodie. Nevertheless, Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. ‘Rub it in, why don’t you?’ She mouthed back.

“You’d all love it. We ought to rent out a place for a week and all us of go together.” Harry suggested, reaching for his glass to finish off. “Have t’say, wasn’t the same without you guys.”

“Let’s just crash our own wedding.” Cade offered, snickering as he was probably already drunk. “I don’t know anyone getting married, Cade, do you?” Daphne asked, shaking her head at him. “Doesn’t have to be someone we know, Daph,” Jodie piped up, “you’re supposed to check out venues, times and all that. If there's a wedding event, then you go. That’s a properly crashed wedding.”

“But they wouldn’t recognise us! They’d escort us away immediately.” Daphne argued with a huff. “Yeah, but anyone that asks, you just tell ‘em that you’re a friend of either side. Family doesn’t really care about the friends part of the invited.” Cade explained, holding his head up. “Tell ‘em Y/N. She’s done it before.” He grumbled, “If y’dont believe me.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head at Cade before sliding a glass of water over to him. “We have done it before,” She replied, gesturing between herself and Jodie. “Nobody bothered us.” She shrugged, before standing. “I think Mr. Man over here, needs a burger and chips.” She giggled, Jodie standing as well. “I’ll go with you. Anyone need a top off?” Jodie asked, looking around the group for the show of hands. “Not you, Cade.” She laughed out, before the two made the trip to the bar for the tables orders.

“So,” Jodie started, leaning against the bar while waiting for the bartender to finish their serve. “So?” Y/N laughed out, shrugging her shoulders as she scanned the menu items for a decent burger for Cade. “Sooooo, have you talked to Harry?” She asked again, wriggling her brows at her with a giggle. “Christ, Jod.” Y/N laughed and shook her head, “No, nothing since the phone call.” She sighed and pursed her lips, “Think he’d do that onion and bacon cheeseburger?” Y/N asked, trying to change the topic. “Cade would eat styrofoam if you handed it to him, now, are you planning on talking to Harry?” Jodie pried again, rolling her eyes as Y/N grinned at the bartender, relaying the orders to ignore the question again.

When the barman shot off, Jodie huffed and tapped on her friend's shoulder. “Er, Hello? M’talkin t’you here, sweets.” Y/N groaned, tipping her head back, “What do I say to him, Jodie? Hey, remember our phone call when you were slaughtered after living it up in Italy? Ooh, or, My God, Harry you look great! I wish I wasn’t such a nonce, and we could’ve gone together!?” Y/N rolled her eyes, “No thanks, really, m’fine.”

“Not really a bad start is it? And, you still haven’t talked to him about the pizza incident.” Jodie reminded, watching the bartender talk to the cook in the back. Y/N sighed, her eyes shutting. “Jodie, please..” She breathed and Jodie scoffed, “Don’t give me that, I think he should’ve at least mentioned leaving for a week, after whatever that was. He never explained himself to you.” She asked and Y/N shook her head, “And he doesn’t have to, I had no business being there, and if I had just kept to myself then I’d never have known anyone was with him that night. So, please. I’d like to drop it.”

Jodie sighed, collecting the drinks tray as Y/N reached for Cade’s food before they made their way back to the table, Jodie uttering a quiet, “If you say so...”

“Well, Harry told me earlier that the same night he had Carina over, Y/N had showed up with a pizza.” Daphne murmured to the table, consisting of Jodie, Cade, and Daphne’s date for the night. Jodie’s eyes widened and carefully slipped her phone out to send a message. The group had just arrived at the bar after a pregame party at Jodie and Daphne’s to celebrate Daphne’s birthday, and Harry had just stepped out to the bathroom, thankfully.

To: Y/N

Daphne knows about Pizza Night

“While Harry was with her?” Cade asked, his brows knitted together in confusion. “No, you idiot,” Daphne laughed, “He said she just showed up with a box of pizza while he had my friend Carina over.” She explained and snickered again when she finished. “Why is that funny?” Jodie asked, her tone quick and sharp as she dug in her bag for her lipstick.

“Guess it’s not funny, just, er, unideal.” She giggled again, shrugging her shoulders in response, to which Jodie rolled her eyes. She’d never known Daphne to be so petty in her life, and she couldn’t stand to see it. Just as she was going to correct her friend, Y/N had come bursting through the front doors.

“What took you so long? Ordering pizza?” Daphne snickered as she watched Y/N rush in haphazardly to get to her seat. “No,” Y/n snapped, setting her coat and bag down to the inside of the booth. “Had to take care of some things, my car’s been acting up so I had just now gotten to pick it up from the mechanic.” She breathed, sitting down finally with her forefinger and thumb pinching at a throbbing nerve at the bridge of her nose. “Had to call three rideshares, the first two just never showed up. It’s just been,” Y/N sighed, trailing off as another throb derailed her train of thought. “Well, lemme get you a drink, babes.” Jodie offered, ignoring the wave of Y/N’s dismissive hand as she got up anyway to fetch her friend a drink.

“Ought to get some sleep, all those headaches.” Daphne chirped, shrugging her shoulders as she sipped at her own drink. “Never known you to be late for my birthday.”

Y/N sighed, nodding, “I know, and m’sorry Daph, really. Happy Birthday.” She muttered before sliding over the gift she somehow managed to pick up before the shop closed. “V’been so stressed lately, wasn’t sure if you’d like it but there's a gift receipt if you want to exchange it.” She explained breathily. No matter how bad they had been fighting lately, a birthday is a birthday. A silly promise they made all those years ago but something Y/N took to heart.

“A birthday is a birthday.” Jodie raised her glass to the air, huffing as her friends stared at her before bursting out into laughter. “C’mon, it’s a toast, you idiots!” Jodie groaned as they began to laugh harder. “To what?!” Daphne gasped out in between giggles. “That no matter where we are, different time zones or with one another, mad or not; a birthday is a birthday. And y’can’t miss it.” Y/N wiped her eyes and clutched her stomach, an attempt to calm herself down.

“S’not bad, actually.” She hummed, raising her glass as well before looking at Daphne. “Come on!” Jodie coaxed, grinning as the third rolled her eyes playfully, lifting her arm in the air to gently tip against the others' glasses. “A birthday is a birthday!” Daphne grinned, the three girls knocking their shots back to begin their night.

Daphne’s eyes widened for a moment, reaching across to accept the bag. “I- Thank you.” She breathed out, pursing her lips as she set the gift to the side.

Harry had emerged from the bathroom, stilling slightly when he saw Y/N had in fact made it before continuing to the seat. “You look exhausted.” He said, a frown pulling at his lips at the sight of how tired she actually looked. “I know, I know, they’ve said so.” She sighed, straightening up as Jodie came back with her drink and a chip and wings platter for Cade. “Thank you, I’m poor at the moment.” Y/N laughed, reaching into the chips pile.

“Are you sleeping well?” Jodie asked, nudging her friend's shoulder when she shook her head no. “Keep waking up throughout the night. Might need a new pillow or something.” Y/N explained, sipping quickly at her drink and hoping the conversation would venture elsewhere.

“Maybe if you weren’t showing up at random times to peoples houses-,” Daphne started again, only opening her mouth once more before Y/N lifted her head to look at her. She couldn’t really be this mean? “Then perhaps you’d getting better sleep.” She finished, and Harry froze, swallowing thickly. He never meant for Daphne to use it as informational ammo. Harry cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he prepared to intervene but Y/N had beat him to it after finishing what was left in her glass.

“Are you done?” Y/N cut, glaring at her. “Shut up about it already, okay?”

“Touchy.” She quipped, giggling as she glanced at Harry. Y/N rolled her eyes, excusing herself from the group to get the next round of drinks.

“I like when Daphne drinks.” Cade laughed when he was sure Y/N was out of earshot earning a smack on the arm from Jodie. Daphne grinned, pretending to fan herself at the praise. “Happy Birthday, to me.” She hummed, reaching for a shot from the centre and downing it. “Wasn’t really that big of a deal, was it? Some advice and she takes off.”

“Y’have to love the theatrics, though.” Harry added, shrugging as he reached over to down a shot as well. Jodie huffed and leaned back in her seat, her legs crossed one over the other as she braced herself to tell the whole group off. “Hardly theatrics, isn’t it.” Said Jodie, as she couldn’t take much more of the banter. “Well, she stormed off over nothing.” Harry huffed and Jodie's eyes widened. “Nothing?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes again. “Don’t act stupid, Harry, you know what Daphne was getting at, and you!” She glared at Daphne, sneering at her even. “That’s far too low for you, you’ve got more class than that.” She added, leaving Daphne with her mouth hung agape.

“S’a fucking ploy, Jod. So, she’s a lil’ embarrassed, she’ll be fine.” Harry reluctantly replied, his eyes darting at the rest of the table as a silent plea for help.

“Oi, I hear her crying in the middle of the night, Harry. S’hardly a ploy. You, of all people, should know what I’m talking about.” Harry, of course, did know immediately what she was talking about, and it made him sick. The first time they got together, what started it all. So long ago, but somehow still as bittersweet as it was now, it was the happiest time of his life. Before he knew, before it was ruined. His jaw clenched, thinking back at it now and remembering it’s not his fault.

“I’ve cried too, Jod!” He argued, his chest beginning to feel the far too familiar ache. Jodie rolled her eyes, with a sarcastic laugh. “It’s your doing! Both of you! Harry, you could very easily get all this over and done with a simple yes or no. Just rip the bloody bandage off already. We all know what Y/N did, and I don’t know why Daph’s so set on making it ten times worse. I don’t feel bad for you, for anyone!” She argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “And Daphne, just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you get a free bitch pass, not from me anyway.” Jodie finished, leaving Daphne to grumble her response. “You all suck. I want new friends.” Jodie huffed at that, cracking a small smile to ease the tension. “I expect to hear apologies in the next coming days. Cade, you too!” Jodie sneered, grabbing from the chip pile to toss at him, “What did I do?!” He whined, groaning when Daphne grabbed some of the fallen ones to toss at him too. “Shut Up, Cade.”

Jodie sighed, feeling the weight loft from her shoulders now that she’d spoken her mind. “She’s not even there anymore, I don’t see her.” Jodie grumbled as she turned to scan the bar area. “Lemme…” She trailed off, pushing her chair from the table to get up and find her.

When she got to the bar and tried explaining what Y/N was wearing to the barman, she caught a glimpse of her dress in the outside area. “That’s okay, think that’s her outside, thank you anyway.” She said over the music, grabbing for the made drinks and hurried out the door.

“Y/N?” She started, quietly and sighed as her friend's head tipped backwards at the acknowledgement of her presence. “It’s fine, Jodie.” She breathed out. “No it is not. You were supposed to be at the bar, know better than to just disappear.” She scolded, setting the tray of drinks on one of the iron wrought tables sitting on the stone patio, sprawled each way for any patrons needing a smoke break or fresh air.

“Didn’t disappear, paid for the order and thought I’d earned a smoke break. I’ve been running around all day, stressing. Thought tonight would be a nice peaceful distraction, but nooo, not as long as Miss Perfect is around.”

“Miss Perfect,” Jodie laughed at that, “Really, you both act like you’ve never been friends in your life! Over what? Mark of all things?” she added exasperatedly.

“Yeah, well, I tried being nice. Tried a birthday is a birthday, she doesn’t care. Harry doesn’t care, m’over it. I fucked up, and it’s done with. M’tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to mend my mistake. Feels like beatin’ a dead horse. So, so, so fuck it.” She rasped, bringing her arms around herself as she took another drag. “Fuck it.” Jodie repeated and sighed, “Alright, well, I’ll leave you to yourself then.” And Y/N spitefully laughed out, “Yes, Thank you!” before turning her head to the door to find Jodie had already left.

—

“Did you find her?” Cade asked, lifting his head as Jodie returned with the forgotten tray of drinks. “Yes.” She griped, setting the tray down and returning to her seat. Daphne and Cade carefully reached over for their drinks, watching as Jodie glared at Harry who kept his head down.

Cade nudged Harry, “What?” Harry barked, annoyed he was shaken out of his thoughts. Cade glanced to Jodie and then away again, acting like he heard his name from behind him. “O-Oh, h-hey…. Charlie, haven’t seen you in a while!” He said before scrambling away to the back of the pub.

“What?!” Harry asked again incredulously and Jodie rolled her eyes and pointed to the outside area. “Fix. It. Now.” Harry groaned, pursing his lips. “She doesn’t want to talk with me.” He tried and jumped when Jodie gave a swift kick to his shin under the table. “Alright, alright…” He winced, standing carefully with a slight limp as he hobbled to the side door.

As he opened the door, he brought his arms around himself at the feel of the bite from the wind. And upon a short glance around, he saw her toeing at the cobblestone in the back corner, half burnt cigarette in hand that desperately needed ashed off. He sighed, a little too loudly as she had jumped, spinning around with a hand to her chest. “Jesus, you scared me.” She admitted, and Harry could see she’d had herself a little cry.

“Hey.” He mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep from pulling her into his arms. He really hated to see her so upset, “You okay?”

“Oh, m’fine, Harry. Thanks.” She huffed, taking another drag of her cigarette after she turned back away from him. “Really, for everything. S’nothing for you to worry about.” She snipped, gritting her teeth together. “I’ll guess, Jodie sent you.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Y/N, about the other night,” He began, taking a step closer. “I, it wasn’t, well-,” He struggled, pursing his lips tight. “S’fine, Harry. Daphne’s right, I shouldn’t have just shown up. Wasn’t my place to do so.” Y/N interrupted, shaking her head. She just didn’t want to know, she felt stupid to have tried a stunt like that to begin with. But Harry continued anyway, “A-and, I didn’t think she’d use it like that when I told her, and! We weren’t like, making fun of you. I was just venting, I felt awful. The timing of it, it was just, it was awful.” He finished, watching her carefully as his hands dug into the material of the pocket of his trousers.

“And, I wanted to erm,” he added, looking at his shoes and began to fuss with a loose cobblestone. “I wanted to apologise, for how I acted the other day. Well, really, days ago now. Er, I know, I wasn’t exactly fair.”

“Please don’t apologise, Harry, I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course a simple sorry wouldn’t have fixed it. I just, I talked with Jodie about it and it- it all hit me that I had it all wrong. And,” She sighed, shrugging it off. “I fucked up, a-and, it’s done for, so, if we could swiftly just er- try and forget?” Her voice began to shake, her lips quivering as she struggled to get the words out. Harry frowned, taking another step closer. “Y/N, I don’t want to forget.” His voice was strong and sure, and she groaned in frustration, “Cor, Harry, I’m so confused.”

Harry grumbled a bit to himself, “Look, just, come back inside. We’ve got all of our friends inside. S’Daphne’s birthday, possibly her last with us, yeah?” He tried to reason, to get her mind of it. He loved her, yes, but he wasn’t quite ready to forgive and forget either. He wanted the opportunity for the pair to get their frustrations out, the dramatic side of him needed to get to the bottom of this. Whether it meant he had to yell, and hear her yell too. He felt it was the most raw way to get to the solution of an argument. Or maybe that he needed to hear that she cared about losing him as badly as he did. That she’d been as miserable as he was.

Y/N stayed quiet, chewing at the inside of her lip. “Know it’s her birthday an’all but, fuck Daphne right now.” Harry laughed a little, reaching a hand out to her. “Come back in, s’bloomin’ cold out here.” She sighed and tipped her head back. “I don’t know, Harry. Think I should just go home.” She admitted, reaching through her bag for her phone. “Noo, really. Stay, please.” He shifted closer and grabbed her bag. “So Jodie won’t chop me up into a million pieces? Because she’s really scaring me.” He added and glanced back through the door to see Jodie staring at them through the glass. Y/N laughed and shook her head fondly at her friend, “She’s come a long way to get that intimidating,” and with a heavy sigh, “yeah, c’mon. it is cold.” Before she could take a step towards the door, Harry stopped her. “We will, talk later, y’know,” He assured, swallowing thickly as he ran a hand through his hair; a poor attempt to retain his newly set boundaries, he thinks. “Later?” She repeated, her brows knitted together. “Yeah, later, s’alot to say, wouldn’t you agree?” He grumbled, something of a curse was all she could make out, yet seemingly annoyed with himself. “I-I do…” She mumbled, even more uneasy than before somehow. “Plus, we’d better head in before the Birthday Girl gets drunk before we do.” He added and Y/N laughed, still uneasy but shrugged it off all the same. “Later works with me, yeah.”

[part i.] [part ii.]

(a/n: WOW its here, and dont even let me BEGIN on tumblr’s mobile editing format bc it SUCKS!! anyway! sorry again for the long wait, and i hope your patience is rewarded with the third part!!! xxx as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated!)

[224terminal]

⋆｡𖦹 °✩ 𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒.

𓇼 tiamore is a great white shark merman living in captivity at an oceanarium for marine creatures and hybrids. his coloration is mostly varying shades of grey, and he has the messiest black hair ever! unlike the white sclera in human eyes, his are black and he's got the brightest blue eyes you'll ever see. he's also littered in scars and scrapes from various fights in the ocean. a ship propeller injured his dorsal fin, which left him unable to properly swim and stabilize himself in the water, and so he was captured and brought in for rehabilitation purposes. the oceanarium soon realizes it can capitalize on the novelty of an elusive shark merman, so the priority shifts from undercover scientific study to covert priming for entertainment purposes; it's decided he'll be kept there indefinitely).

𓇼 you work there as one of the trainers and your primary area of work deals with sea lions and, on occasion, penguins. they transfer you to his enclosure after he nearly drowned his previous trainer, assuming that you might boast different results because you have a way with animals. you doubt this; sea lions and penguins are not the same as a half-fish, half-human creature who's so much bigger than you and can crush your skull like an egg if he so pleases.

𓇼 tiamore has such a vicious hatred for humans, but can he really be blamed? he's been stuck in captivity for many years now. they're not sure of his exact age, but they estimate he's somewhere in his late twenties. tiamore doesn't bother to provide the humans with any answers or information to their questions, and they don't dare get close enough to ask twice. he's brutal and cutthroat, and yet he let his trainer live (albeit in a very poor, near-death state).

𓇼 you're not very hopeful, but you're the oceanarium's only hope (or so your boss tells you). but this is a lie because your coworker savern is the real animal whisperer. the dolphins love him, especially the mers; he's practically best friends with all of them. they fight over him sometimes, eager for his attention. you envy his ability to effortlessly, authentically charm.

𓇼 unsurprisingly, tiamore hates you the minute he meets you. and you hate him, too, because he has quite the mouth on him and he's so unwilling to compromise with you in any way (although you suppose you wouldn't be willing either if you were in his shoes fins). he's foul and rude and cruel, cutting into you with all manner of insults he's picked up from sailors and scientists over the years. most of your "job" is simply bickering back and forth now as you try (and fail) to coerce him into friendly relations. you're supposed to get him ready for his display exhibit (which is stuck in coming soon limbo because they have no clue when or if he'll ever be ready to be put on display), and tiamore fights this reality with everything he's got.

𓇼 you spend the first month gradually learning to tolerate him and his intelligent, disobedient mouth. he learns you're a recurring pest in his life, but you come to feed him every day and so he can't hate that part of this routine. what he does hate is everything else. you bring stimulating items for him, which are never put to use because he's popped all of the beach balls and snapped all of the diving rings in his frigid disinterest. still, you try. and still he impedes your progress.

𓇼 tiamore is, however, interested in your phone and the pictures you show him after you learn it's the only thing that can shut him up. he's fascinated by photos of butterflies. they're his favorite animal, so you promise to show him more if he starts acting less hostile towards you. tiamore weighs these options: be kind and see butterfly or be hateful and see no butterfly. begrudgingly, he chooses the former. and he slowly warms up to the meals you've started preparing for him on the mornings before your shifts. you're not the best cook (which he notes every time you serve him something that's more burnt than it is cooked, and you threaten to cook him), but he eats it because it's different and new. part of him hopes it'll poison him and he'll never have to live in captivity again because then he'll be dead. alas.

𓇼 you're not sure if this is progress, but it's significantly better than before. now he only calls you stupid idiot, bipedal dumbass, tasteless blood-bag, and lunch three or five times within the span of an hour (insults like those were numbered in the double-digits before). savern certainly thinks it's a step in the right direction when he visits you on your lunch breaks to check in. he's started doing that often, and you're not complaining because he's been your work crush for a while now. tiamore hates him. hates him so, so, so much with the most livid passion. savern is too sunny, too sweet, too smart. savern reads tiamore like a book whenever he's lurking on the surface of the water and scowling at the two of you from the depths of his pool. he refuses to prove savern right, but then he also refuses to dive back under and leave you alone with another human, especially when said human is male.

𓇼 so he swims laps, cutting through the water methodically. his dorsal fin has healed considerably and now swimming isn't as much of a struggle as it was before. he's still left with the scars, though.

𓇼 tiamore considers you something of a companion, so it hurts when you flinch away from him when he compares his large, webbed hand to your smaller one or when he curiously touches your ankles when you stray close to the edge of his pool. you still don't trust him, which isn't so surprising because he did threaten you with death nearly every day, at every hour, during your shifts (and he's such a big, strong predator from the sea). so you have every right to be afraid. that, and he did nearly kill his previous trainer. so it's completely fair for you to fear him, but it's this fear that has you turning to savern for advice. why is he so touchy-feely with you all of a sudden? why is he suddenly interested in your anatomy? why isn't he hissing death threats? what happened to the real tiamore?!

𓇼 not funny because tiamore doesn't truly hate you anymore. you're the best thing to come out of this hellish captivity, so he doesn't mind your presence in his life anymore. he actually (much to his own chagrin) eagerly anticipates seeing you each morning, waiting dutifully in hopes that you'll show up early. he can't believe he actually cares about a human. it's too late to make good on his promise to kill you; he likes you too much to stain the water crimson with your blood and organs. but savern... now that's another story, and he fondly contemplates tearing that man to shreds. it would sadden you, though, so he contents himself with fantasies instead.

𓇼 he's aloof and awkward as he navigates these new feelings. before captivity, he traveled alone in the ocean and he's never had a mate. he's never felt the need for one. he likes being alone and free, two things he no longer has now that he's here in the oceanarium. but you cure his loneliness. you make him happy, even though he'll die before he admits that outright. you make him daydream about freedom, about a future beyond these walls, in which the two of you can be together without the divide of land and sea. maybe it's not possible. maybe it's a wishy-washy, unobtainable dream. that doesn't stop him from thinking about it, though.

𓇼 the oceanarium is filled with all kinds of unique marine hybrids. one of them has recently escaped its exhibit and the staff have exhausted every effort in an attempt to find and catch it. tiamore hears it fluttering in the rafters at night, a sly thing with wings. he hopes it'll fall into his tank so he can get rid of it once and for all and put your worries to rest. tiamore hates it when you worry because your mind is clouded and you don't have the energy or the focus to reserve for your little bantering sessions. he must fix this.

𓇼 his tank is deep enough. you might never know where these problems will go. savern can sit in pieces at the bottom and so can the other noisy distraction. he'll fashion their bones into a little heart and gift it to you one day, and you'll never know.

𓇼 until then he greets you with affectionate insults, watching your human legs carry you up and down the stairs to the platform where the top of his pool waits. this is good enough for now.

[uninformedartist]

I love how r2 and viv’s response is to just blame people for watching episode 4, no ownership and just dodging responsibility, there was no warning till people were getting mad and upset enough that prime put a warning. Had people not leaked the animated segment of poison and warning people about it than people would have no idea that there was SA.

Again instead of just saying on her platform there was SA in the episode and viewer discretion is advised, viv ran to threads like a coward to shame people for leaking episode 4. and got into a three day triad with SA survivors

Which leads me to believe prime and a24 had no idea there was SA in the show, or that prime is trying advertise HH as an animated musical instead of an adult animated show.

if you have rpe kinks all power to you, but your not being queer progressive for putting into a show and dividing people on what’s ok and what isn’t. The fact tha people are divided and avoid episode 4 or walking on thin ice when it comes to episode 4 shows that it was handled badly. Moral Orel, Tuca and Bertie, silent hill 2 and banana fish, and revolutionary girl utena never had this problem because SA was never shown it was heavily implied and we saw the aftermath and trauma it did to the characters assaulted because the act itself didn’t matter, it was the aftermath and recovery.

This, just all of this. Also sums up a bit on R2's interview aswell (still working on that review).

Ty for this anon.

[somerandomcockroach]

Okay-okay-okay, I really need to put out some silly thoughts from "Autocracy" IDW and sleep peacefully Of course I liked it ha-ha, it is filled with revolution, double revolution, triple revolution Autocracy spoilers, I guess?

• They call each other old-timers if they are older pffht • Firstly, help, Soundwave's kids are CRAZY, I mean I saw them fighting good against autobots but when Soundwave was running away, he was just "Go, my pokemon", and his kids were absolutely destroying everyone on his tail • OH I ABSOLUTELY LOVED all dialogues between Megatron and Orion Pax, from future I got that they were friends, so they know each other, but somehow Megatron is much better at guessing how Orion will act. Megatron thinks as a real tactician, using bots as his weapon, having a backup plan even if it required lifes of other bots. Orion, even from his origin, never seemed a person of "plan b", he improvise but he relies a lot on his comrades, they are a strong team, they are his plan b, and while this whole corruption situation was irritating him more and more, he became more violent and less considerable about proper plans, it goes as it goes. I guess that's why Megatron was underestimating him plus added the fact of how much power he got. Yeeeet~ Orion is using what Megatron did write, quotes it, and I'm sure he meant it in the right way, while Megatron's way is violent. "Criminal posing as a revolutionary and revolutionary posing as a cop" is my fav ship. He is using Orion in his plans in pretty curly and good ways ○ OKAY, a little note, but Megatron finds Starscream as very useful and trustful liege, it started amazing me from Megatron's origin where they were coming up with plans on spot without discussing. Then Sterscream really is good with his talking, responsible for many-many things and achieves them successfully. It is so surprising for me after all the jokes about them pfffht

(Megatron in his happy dreams happily holding hands with Orion and destroying autocracy together, but then he wakes up because remembers he will have to kill him then)

I'm cackling again. "Protect autobots at all cost!". Decepticons "Huh, how worthy these bots must b- "*sees Orion* "Ah, no more questions"

When you want to get your beloved you must push to the very end pfffffht

• I KNOW RODIMUS. I know him from future series and AHAHHAH OH MY EMOTIONS WHEN I SAW THAT HE WAS THE BOMBER, and played a big part in this story, the absolute opposite side of his character! I remember reading fic by @/lush-specimen where Hot Rod was helping EVERY bot in need, decepticons or autobots, taking everyone in need. AND NOW I SO MUCH SEE IT. He was another kind of revolutionary, he was the middle, oppressed kind of bots. He is a pretty young one, he lived in golden era, in alive city, now bots are dying on his eyes yet he protects and stands for them. He DIDN'T join decepticons yet he was fighting against cops. BUT he saw that maybe Orion can help since he was against government. He helped decepticons to show the truth to the ones who could change something, because he saw that it can help them, not decepticons. He isn't that funny ha-ha boy I saw in mtmte and ll. He had to burst his own "family" so that they will not become the fuel for Zeta Prime's destruction tools. Their deaths were on him. He became the leader to get out his people and did bear their deaths on his shoulders. No wonder he became a good even if silly leader in the future, he knows the price of life.

Writers: "Let's leave a hint about him being the new ruler. BUT LITTLE DID THEY KNOW WHAT HIS CHARAcTER WILL BE AHAHHAHA"

• "Till all are one". The matrix. THIS IS WHAT KEPT ME IN CHOKEHOLD AHAH. This phrase come from here, the change of Orion come from here, it all is in here. LISTEN. THA MATRIX LET THE HOLDER FEEL SPARKS. HE FELT SPARKS OUTSIDE THE PLANET. I wonder if he feels when someone's spark fades/dies, does he feel something about it or he got so used to it. I was wondering how exactly and from what point Orion changed to his serious Prime. He could NOT NOT change. The matrix gave him an ability to feel everyone, gave him an understanding of the concept of what unity of bots is. He could never become his past again because he bears this burden of lifes that he will never be able to get rid of now. But what made me sad is that Metroplex recognised him as his "old friend". He didn't call him by name of that friend. I guess it is because he had decades of such friends. They all have pretty similar ideas and characters. They get matrix and the same idea gets in their head. They become someone who already was there, real side of you erasers even if not completely. PFhegfheg. Even the name he got. He himself can't get used to it, meaning he has to get used to it like he is forced to his new self

• Prowl ~ There are earlier times and I don't see that great tactician that I used to read about him. He is a good soldier, who follows orders, he trusts Orion, he follows his orders, he isn't the one coming up with plans. He still is more groundly on the "rule" side, but he understands what is bad for bots, he listens to Orion more, he is the one who gives final orders. He ends up going against government, siding with these dissidents, even siding with decepticons to get rid of what could have destroyed them all. It's just a bit unusual for me to see him be "in team", follow, don't have his own side plan, don't be beaten up wheeeeze

• That's a bit.... sad to see them like this, knowing who Shockwave was before. And now it is this.

• Oh, they yap at each other, shipped

• Don't look, kid, parents are fighting

Okay, ahaha, I feel like I've wrote something too messy to understand or too silly to be real, my only thoughts left are described by tsche-chu-chu-che-tsche

[worldly-nugget]

Masterlist

Continued over from my old account 😌

@nugget-eater123 is the old account and I’m leaving that Masterlist up but I’m just gonna link the old ones on this page to my old account anyway🧎

My old account shit itself and I couldn’t comment or message 😭

And I’ll say it again. I don’t specify ages because I don’t know how old the reader is. You can imagine whatever age you’re most comfortable with (don’t be a freak) But they’re definitely not minors, making that super clear. They’re DRAWINGS so they’re stuck at one age so pretend they grew up with you. It’s not that deep.

Asks 🎀

Sally Face

(If you don’t know what this is it’s a game! It’s on steam! I forgot how much it is but if you don’t want to buy it you could always watch a play through of it on YouTube!! I personally love Jacksepticeye and Kubzscouts!)

Smaus - Travis is Tight 🫧 Sally x gn!reader

Travis is Tight Part 2 ���� Sally x gn!reader

I got a tip for ya- 🫧 Travis x male!reader

Fatherless 🫧 Sally x gn!reader

Fatherless Part 2 🫧 Sally x gn!reader

OPEN THA NOOOOR 🫧Sally x gn!reader

Fleshlight struggles 🫧 Travis x male!reader

You’re so skibidi 🫧 Travis x gn!reader

You’re so skibidi Part 2 🫧 Travis x gn!reader

Not very slay bestie 🫧 Sally x male!reader

Bnha/Mha

(If you haven’t seen this anime it’s available on Crunchyroll in sub and dub!)

Smaus - No bitches? 🫧 Todoroki x fem!reader

No bitches? Part 2 🫧 Todoroki x fem!reader

No bitches? Part 3 🫧 Todoroki x fem!reader

No bitches? Part 4 🫧 Todoroki x fem!reader

Kami’s dead grandma 🫧 Tododekukirikami x fem!bakugo!reader

Kami’s dead grandma Part 2 🫧 Tododekukirikami x fem!bakugo!reader

Kami’s dead grandma Part 3 🫧 Tododekukirikami x fem!bakugo!reader

L after L 🫧 Bakugo x gn!reader

L after L Part 2 🫧 Bakugo x gn!reader

Amogus 🫧 Kirikami x fem!reader

Amogus Part 2 🫧 Kirikami x fem!reader

Who put you on the planet? 🫧 Allmight x gn!reader

Who put you on the planet? Part 2 🫧 Allmight x gn!reader

I’ve ascended 🫧 Todoroki x gn!bakugo!reader

I’ve ascended Part 2 🫧 Todoroki x gn!bakugo!reader

Boy Liker 🫵 🫧 Dabi x male!reader

Boy Liker 🫵 Part 2 🫧 Dabi x male!reader

Obey me! Shall we date?

(If you don’t know what this is, it’s a FREE mobile game! There’s 2 actually so if you’re interested then just download it and check it out! And there’s an anime for it that’s only in sub on Crunchyroll!)

Smaus - Bro is WHIPPED 🫧 Lucifer x gn!reader

Bro is WHIPPED Part 2 🫧 Lucifer x gn!reader

Imagines-

Jujutsu Kaisen/JJK

(If you haven’t seen this anime it’s available on Crunchyroll in sub and dub!)

Smaus - Scaredy cat 🫧 Sukuna x gn!reader

Erm Actcholy 🫧 Gojo x gn!reader

Demon Slayer/KNY

(If you haven’t seen this anime it’s available on Crunchyroll in sub and dub!)

Smaus - Boy Kisser? 🫧 Tanjiro x gn!reader

Boy Kisser? Part 2 🫧 Tanjiro x gn!reader

Kuroko’s Basketball/KNB

(If you haven’t seen this anime it is available on Netflix in the dub version and Crunchyroll for the sub version!)

Smaus - Bootiful 🫧 Akakuro x fem!reader

Bootiful Part 2 🫧 Akakuro x fem!reader

Bootiful Part 3 🫧 Akakuro x fem!reader

Cock sucking- 🫧 Kuroko x gn!akashi!reader

Hazbin Hotel

(If you haven’t seen this show it’s now available on Prime Video! The pilot episode is free on YouTube tho!)

Smaus -

Helluva Boss

(If you haven’t seen this show it’s all for free on YouTube!)

Smaus -

Blue Lock

(If you haven’t seen this anime it’s on Crunchyroll, in sub and dub!)

Smaus - Manwha type shit 🫧 Rin x male!reader

The Misfit of Demon King Academy

(If you haven’t seen this anime it’s available on Crunchyroll in sub and dub!)

Smaus -

Bungo Stray Dogs

(If you haven’t seen this anime it’s on Crunchyroll in sub and dub!)

Smaus -

Blue Exorcist

(If you haven’t seen this anime it’s available on Crunchyroll in sub and dub! Netflix has it too but it doesn’t have all the episodes! And the last half of season one is NOT canon!!!! I didn’t know that at first and I was very confused)

Smaus - Boi U Gay 🫧 Rin Okumura x male!reader

Loveanddeepspace

(If you don’t know what this is, it’s a FREE mobile game! Fair warning, the player strictly uses she/her pronouns. :/ Hoping they change that because it’s irritating asf)

Smaus -

[artyandink]

amoralism | seventeen

SUMMARY: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Chuck. Short chapter.

Song Inspo: Feeling Good by Michael Bublé

SERIES MASTERLIST

egotism

Chuck Shurley liked to think of himself as a man of routine, a person of simple tastes despite the complicated world he occupied. Running a country wasn’t easy, but some things could be counted on to stay the same. Like breakfast. No one could mess with his breakfast.

He sat alone at the enormous dining table in his residence, wearing his favorite plaid bathrobe over a pair of faded pajama pants. A steaming mug of coffee sat beside his plate of toast, eggs, and bacon. Chuck always ate the same thing for breakfast. Not because he particularly loved it, but because it required no decision-making before the caffeine kicked in.

He reached for the toast, then paused to inspect the slight over-toasting of the edges. "Again with the burnt crusts," he muttered to himself, his eyebrows knitting together in mild disappointment. "I swear, they’re trying to ruin me one piece of toast at a time." He sighed and took a bite anyway, wincing slightly at the crunch. He'd have to have a word with the kitchen staff later. You’d think the President of the United States could get perfectly toasted bread, but no, that seemed to be asking for a miracle.

As he worked his way through the rest of his breakfast, Becky, his assistant, entered the room. Becky Rosen was efficient to a fault, carrying a clipboard like it was a weapon and wielding it with the precision of a fencing champion. She had a spark in her eyes that sometimes bordered on unsettling, but Chuck had learned to appreciate her, enthusiasm and all.

"Morning, Mr. President!" Becky said, almost too brightly, her smile like the sun peeking over the horizon. "Big day ahead! You ready to dive in?"

Chuck raised a single eyebrow at her cheerfulness, sipping his coffee. "Becky, it’s barely seven. How are you this chipper already? Did you have a breakfast of espresso beans and optimism again?"

She ignored his comment and plowed on, flipping through her clipboard with the kind of vigor reserved for game show hosts and emergency responders. "You’ve got a cabinet meeting at nine, then a briefing with the Joint Chiefs at ten-thirty. Lunch with the Belgian Prime Minister at noon—please don’t make any more jokes about waffles this time."

"Well, what else do they even do?" Chuck grumbled into his mug, muttering about syrup diplomacy. Becky gave him a look that managed to convey both exasperation and fondness.

"After that," she continued, "there’s the energy policy speech at two, then a fundraiser dinner at seven." She paused, her eyes flicking up from the clipboard to meet his. "And remember, sir, try to keep the jokes about solar panels to a minimum. Not everyone finds renewable energy as hilarious as you do."

Chuck leaned back in his chair, sighing dramatically. "It’s a crime against humanity that more people don’t appreciate my sense of humor. Do I have to wear a tie for all of this?"

"Absolutely," Becky said without missing a beat. "And don’t forget the photo op with the children’s charity this afternoon. You need to look like you care."

"Perfect," Chuck said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Kids. My favorite. Do they come pre-stickied, or do they just ooze jam on contact?"

Becky didn’t dignify that with a response, just handed him his schedule and turned on her heel, leaving Chuck to his now lukewarm coffee.

With breakfast done and his day outlined in painfully precise detail, Chuck made his way to his dressing room. The space was a cavernous expanse filled with suits that could have outfitted an entire department store. He stood there, hands on his hips, staring at the rows of ties like they were enemies that needed to be defeated in some twisted neckwear combat.

"Alright, which one of you will make me look like I’m competent today?" he muttered to himself. He finally settled on a navy suit and a maroon tie—classic, authoritative, but not too stuffy. As he buttoned up his crisp white shirt, he caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror. For a moment, he allowed a smirk to cross his face. "Looking good, Mr. President. Looking good."

Just as he was about to adjust his tie, his phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the quiet of the room. Chuck’s brow furrowed as he reached for it. Very few people had this direct number, and even fewer had the gall to use it at this hour.

He glanced at the screen. The name simply read: Lucifer.

Chuck blinked, then rolled his eyes to the ceiling like he was looking for divine intervention. "Oh, great. Of course." He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for whatever chaos was about to unfold, then hit the answer button.

“Lucy!” Chuck said, trying to keep his voice light. “What a surprise. How’s the underworld these days? Still hot and full of despair?”

There was a pause on the other end, then a smooth voice, dripping with amused malice, responded. “Chuck, my old friend. Still trying to play the role of the charming statesman, I see. You know, you’re not fooling anyone with that tie. Maroon? Really?”

Chuck forced a laugh, tightening his grip on the phone. “What can I say? Red’s a power color, and it hides the bloodstains when things get messy. So, what can I do for you, Lucifer? It’s not every day the Prince of Darkness gives me a ring.”

Lucifer’s voice was as smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. “Oh, nothing too major. Just a little business proposition, let’s call it. Something I think you’ll find… tempting.”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed slightly, though his tone remained light. “Tempting? Lucifer, you know that’s your whole brand, right? I mean, if it didn’t come with a side of betrayal and eternal damnation, you might’ve made a great salesman.”

There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Chuck. But this is strictly business. I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Chuck’s playful demeanor slipped for a moment, replaced by something sharper, more calculating. He knew that tone, knew it all too well. Whatever Lucifer was about to propose, it wasn’t going to be simple. And it certainly wasn’t going to be good.

“Well, Lucifer,” Chuck said, his voice losing its casual edge, “you’ve got my attention. What kind of deal are we talking about?”

And just like that, in the space of a breath, Chuck Shurley’s morning went from a mundane blend of burnt toast and tie dilemmas to a potential crisis involving the literal devil. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his tie half-knotted, and muttered under his breath, "Why can’t it ever just be about waffles?"

The line crackled with a hint of static, and Lucifer’s voice dripped through the receiver, smooth and menacing. “Oh, I think you’ll find this deal quite… devilishly delightful.”

Chuck rolled his eyes again, a half-sigh escaping his lips. “Oh, good. Puns. This is going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”

And with that, he braced himself for whatever nightmare Lucifer had in store, already lamenting the loss of his predictable, if slightly burnt, breakfast routine.

TAGLIST:

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz

@didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99

@autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19 @deanbrainrotwritings

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

@k-slla @muhahaha303 @suckitands33

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

@katherineeekai @freefallthoughts @angzls @deans-baby-momma @syrma-sensei

@cheynovak

[vishnavishivaa]

Edhuvum Avanukaaga: Chapter 4: Avalirku Vaaku

Avalirku Vaaku- A vow to her and for her

*********

Arulmozhi hurried to Thanjai on his elephant, and having tricked the people at Naagai reluctantly so that he could leave. There was a lot that had happened within two days, and he had to celebrate a function with the people of Naagai before making his elephant run mad on purpose so that he could leave and go home to Thanjai. As he made his way to Thanjai, as fast as he could, he spotted a familiar stocky figure crossing the street and stopping to look at him. Arulmozhi sighed and patted the elephant gently, slowing him down as they reached the man.

He got down in a trice, and smiled with an exasperated sigh, speaking, "Thirumalai, thaangal inge?"

"Ilavarase, it is my fortune to see you alive, hale and hearty," said the student of Aniruddha Brahmarayar. Arulmozhi was not surprised that the Prime Minister of Chozha Nadu knew of his alive status.

"It is not like you did not know I was alive, Thirumalai," the amusement he felt was made obvious in his tone. "There is nothing you do not know."

"And yet, Ayya, I am unaware of why you are coming to Thanjai now," the Vaishnava said in a dry tone, eyes twinkling to give away his amusement as well.

"I have my own reasons, Ayya," Ponniyin Selvar said calmly. "There are things that need my presence in Thanjai and Pazhayarai. I am just awaiting an active response from my thamaiyanar."

"Ilavarasar Aditha Karikalar insisted on going to Kadambur anyway, even after your letter came. Or so he informed the Ilaya Piratti," Nambi said casually. "So, the Princess, along with her uyir thozhi, the light of Kodumbalur, have gone to Kudanthai."

"To the Jothidar? Again?" Arulmozhi was exasperated with his elder sister and her love for astrology. "But are you sure that they are there?"

"I am, Ilavarase. I myself was heading there to talk to the Ilaya Piratti for my next set of orders."

"Then let us make our way there, together," Arulmozhi determined.

****

"Akka, Vaanathi!"

Vaanathi jerked when she heard Arulmozhi's voice. She had already put up with his dearest boat woman for days, and her nerves were jagged, on edge. His voice soothed them some, though the sweet look on the said boat woman's face was getting to her. She was about to look away, when her eyes caught his, and she froze. Why did he look like he knew something... her breath caught in her chest, as she met his eyes, the ones which touched her heart and soul. His eyes were intense, aflame with an emotion her soul identified, though it went unnamed in her mind. She knew she was captivated once more, but this time, his emotions shone as powerfully as hers always had, and that sent thrills of delight through her body.

What had changed?

"Ponniyin Selvare," she whispered, even before her Akka could, making the latter smirk at the two of them, seemingly content in allowing their interaction to happen first.

"Vaanathi," he stepped closer to her, his towering height making her gaze up at him, blushing when his eyes traced the shape of her face. She blushed, feeling her skin light up with the depth in his eyes, and she looked away shyly, her eyes widening when they met Kundavai's smirking eyes.

"Akka," Vaanathi whispered, running to her side, making the Ilaya Piratti laugh, before she turned to Arulmozhi.

"Vaalu," Kundavai said entirely exasperated. "What are you doing here?"

"Ask your Thozhi, Akka. She scares me sometimes," he said, nodding at Samudrakumari, but entirely focused on the Velir magal in front of him.

"What did I do?" Vaanathi was confused. What was he talking about? She stilled when their eyes met, and his penetrating gaze told her the truth. Oh... oh no. He had found and read the letter, which had accelerated his plans. He was not supposed to read it so soon. He also looked a bit... displeased.

"You know what you did," he said firmly. "I am here to stop you, Vaanathi."

"But Ilavarase..." He interrupted her, rare for him but much needed at that point, at least in his perspective.

"No Vaanathi, whatever it is, we can talk it out. That step is unacceptable," he said firmly, looking at his Akka innocently. He added, "It is just an argument between Vaanathi and I, Akka, don't worry about it."

"You know Akka will find out right?" Vaanathi's tone was dry and deadpan, her sassy nature coming out once more due to his presence. Kundavai had already gone forward with Samudra Kumari and Thirumalai, leaving her younger brother with her chellam.

"I am aware. But maybe let us not worry her when Chozha Nadu is already going through so much," he whispered in her ear and pointed to the hut of the Jothidar, as if asking her to enter first.

Vaanathi felt shivers run down her spine, and she closed her eyes. His ability to affect her had somehow increased, despite her decision to stay strong and formal with him. Instead, she had lost herself in him once more, something she had told herself she would not do again, as it was bound to hurt her. But his gaze had unlocked something in her, something deeper, a reflection of his own expressions. Steeling herself, she turned to him and asked, "What are you really doing here, my Prince? Akka asked you not to come, and you don't disobey her. So why suddenly?"

"I got your letter," he said, searching her eyes. "You did not want me to find it so early, and yet, I am thankful I did. What were you thinking, Vaanathi?"

"That I do not want my honour to be besmirched, that my honour should not be tainted," she said quietly. "My honour and my chastity are my highest values, and I refuse to let anything or anyone taint it."

Her heart tore at the pain that danced across his handsome face, but what could she do? She had to be truthful, even more so because she had vowed that she was his alone, in her heart of hearts.

"Then punish me however you want. Just don't take the oath," his low voice broke her heart. No, her Selvar should never have such pain, and yet, here she was, causing him such pain. Tears sprung in her eyes, and she looked away in an attempt to control her emotions. From the corner of her eyes, she saw him making an aborted motion to comfort her.

She turned back to him, tears now shining in her doe eyes, which fell when she saw the tears forming in his own.

"Selvare, do not tear, not for something so small and simple," she tried to say, but he shook his head.

"I promised myself that I would always protect and honour women. To think that I tainted yours with my doubts breaks my heart, Vaanathi," he said quietly, his expression suddenly turning neutral.

"You did not taint mine," she said, horrified at his words. "You doubted because you heard rumours. And who does not when they hear such, my Prince? Did I also not think you felt something for Samudrakumari?"

She winced at her words, and turned to leave, but his hand stopped her by gently gripping her wrist. She turned around to meet his eyes, not making any action to move her hand away.

"It is my fault for hurting you so, Vaanathi," he said, determined to make this right. "Vanadevi of Thirunallam, will you allow me to at least rectify my mistake? Will you allow me to repent?"

"You have no need to though, Ponniyin Selvare. You are free to love who you want," she said quietly, about to turn away, when his words stopped her.

"No Vaanathi, my heart has been given a long time ago at Thirunallam. It just took these dire situations for me to understand."

She looked at him with shock, surprise and entire love in her eyes, and he smiled back quietly, indicating that they enter the hut, for Kundavai would not be too happy otherwise. She nodded, her eyes still on his as they entered, before she walked to Kundavai's side, shaking her head with tears in them.

Kundavai nodded, taking in the tense frame of her brother's. She had to talk to both eventually, and she would. For now, they all had to focus on Chozha Nadu first.

Vaanathi and Arulmozhi walked out of the hut, both entirely flummoxed. The astrologer had waxed poetic about them as a couple and the supposed future of Chozha Nadu the moment he saw them together. Vaanathi had blushed a whole lot, but had also avoided looking at him, more out of shyness than anything else. The apparent power of their pair was also recited in great detail. Vaanathi had noticed Samudrakumari's building fury, but most of her was focused on the awed expression on her Prince's face.

"Vaanathi?"

"Yes my Prince?" she turned to meet his eyes, her breath yet again stopping at her chest when his eyes, alit with passion and love, met hers.

"I will prove your worth to you. This is my promise, on Akka's golden feet."

*******

Do I know what I am doing? At this point, this is my flow-

@ahamasmiyodhah @thegleamingmoon @yehsahihai @mahaswrites @hum-suffer @theramblergal @moon-880 @arachneofthoughts @whippersnappersbookworm @rang-lo @celestesinsight @willkatfanfromasia @mahi-wayy @ragkee @houseofbreadpakoda @sambaridli @nidhi-writes @leoprincess21 @anushyaselvaraj @chaliyaaa What do you all think?

[pricemarshfield]

Answer the prime numbers. Do All Tha Prime Numbers 🫵

good lord. okay but i’m putting it under the cut

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

biiiit of both? i know very concretely where i want a fic to start & end, i know the general placement of a few important scenes throughout the fic, and then i have Loose outlines about how each chapter will get me there. but mostly i write as i go; i just have an idea of the endpoint so i don’t wander off into the wilderness (drive my outline wildly off course)

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

well since playing bg3 it’s: become haunted by an idea involving raphael baldursgate, say oh my god no i haven’t even written any of my current wips in months i don’t have time, and then blacking out with 6k of porn that’s somehow not even close to done on my google docs. and this repeats forever

but also. i kinda just do it idk. i sit at my computer and write until it’s done

5. Do you like constructive criticism?

context dependent. if i ask for it, yeah. unprompted in comments, nah. people are much better about this than they used to be, which is funny because i’m less bothered now than i used to be. baby fic author sarah was haunted by concrit; current me is like yeah critique is the only way to improve but i am writing this for funnnn so leaf me alone

(should specify i Just mean in terms of like. technical advice here. if i’m being a bigot in my writing somehow, that is something i want to know and fix asap)

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

vibessss. whoever i wanna write more in the moment unless the specific scene only works from one perspective. this is why talk is getting a sequel (threequel. i guess. bc i’m also doing the two-part “endings”) which is just the same fic but from raphael pov bc i want to write him now

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

only three? damn. can i do four 😭 you sent me over a dozen questions i’m doing four.

of street names & subway wall prophecies by @dalgursbate is SO good. buffyverse au shadowstarion, so well-characterized and vivid and also FUN i LOVE it. i already liked shadowstarion (shocking! girl who multiships everything likes pairing between two of her favorite characters!) but now i rotate them in my mind forever. i want to bind this physically so i have it and am only stopped by having not actually kept most of my bookbinding stuff when i moved. but i need a physical copy so i can Eat It. also everyone should read everything else molly’s ever posted

who will burn who by @pouralaura is so good i’m proselytizing for it. PHENOMENAL fic. professor au raphael and he is SOOO fun; he fits so well in this verse without being defanged into something unrecognizable. and also it’s HOT!!!! SO HOT! fanning myself when i read it! the prose is just soooo fucking nice in this too. all of what i’ve said about this fic is true of all of laura’s fics and once again. everyone should read everything she’s ever posted

Blood in the Wine by @atrueneutral is so fucking interesting that i literally had to lie in bed and just stare at my ceiling and THINK about it after i read the latest chapter today. priest raphael au But Watch Out. i’m so deeply intrigued by the world-building in this, and neutral’s tav is INCREDIBLY compelling. this fic makes me want to paint again and if i had a canvas on hand i probably would have by now. and not to sound like a broken record but everyone read all of neutral’s fics too tyvm 🙏

Cooler Than Me by @wetcatspellcaster has absolutely brightened my day with every update, which has been nice because boyyy am i going through it a little bit. an academic/celebrity modern au with rosalie frostsong, love of my life, as the academic consulting on a film about a historical figure she Hates, and astarion, playing that guy. it’s so fun and funny and fluffy, and i just love seeing how all the different characters are translated to this AU because they’re ALL bangers. fox you are my roommate and know this already but for anyone just reading through, i absolutely cannot recommend all of emma’s fics enough :)

for all of these peep me being #insane in the comments and also know i could have listed like eight more fics even Just sticking with bg3, plus like 10 more if i brought in all the banger d20 ones i still need to catch up on. anyway i’m gonna go reread all of these once i finish answering this ask

13. what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

FOR ME show don’t tell works. because i treat it as a mantra to make sure i’m showing what i’m telling, since my (unedited) writing style is just. so direct. my characters are introspective and love to think “i am doing x because y which results in z” and that’s fun but sometimes less is more. but also i think it’s a tip that’s oft misused and not always helpful hence the For Me

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

i simply do something else 👍 i am past the point of forcing words out of myself. i wrote a 40 page paper in one night bc i procrastinated so badly in my senior year of college and i don’t want to return to the mental state that invoked in me. especially not for Fanfiction, my Hobby

19. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

post-canon, fluff, and alternate universe - canon divergence are the main three; i should note that these are largely one-off fics under 2k i wrote half a decade ago, and most of my fics now are messy longfics with a lot of smut. the canon divergence one is still real though

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

🗣️ if you’re stuck, go back three sentences!!! oh my GOD did this save my editing process. the fact i finish editing chapters ever is due to this. also write what you want to write when you want to write it; if you’re writing for a self-imposed deadline or entitled commenters, the fun’s gonna get sucked out of it Fast.

also if you get someone who makes a Lot of fic requests that brush veryyyy close to what you’re not comfortable taking just block them. it’s fine. protect your peace

29. What’s your revision or editing process like?

finish draft. take a full day away from it. reread. fix mistakes. i absolutely Should do more—reading aloud, probably make comments to myself and then go back—but tbh. i am impatient. i want to Post and see people’s Thoughts right away

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

used to be characters and a Vibe and the plot would come after, now plots complete with characters and themes attack me in the night until a new outline appears in my google docs. i blame raphael

37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

“okay so this chapter should end at this scene :) oh god why is this other scene getting so long. ah fuck this is already 6k words and i’m not halfway through my plans. oh jesus christ wait a second it’s incredibly self-indulgent additional scene with the steel chair!!” and then i keep writing until i hit whatever is in my outline. don’t do this. you can change your chapter count. i am inflexibly stubborn but everyone else can and should do that. or just don’t commit to a chapter count at first. don’t be like me

41. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

I LOVE REREADING FICS !!! i guarantee every single fic i recommended above i have reread at least a dozen times times, and i think all three of them came out this year. one i discovered a momth ago. i have some fics i have reread Hundreds of times. i Love to reread fics

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

*poorly hiding a comically large mallet behind my back* i’m sooo nice to my characters actually. ignore the longfic which is just my tav’s bad end. and also the one where i put her in a version of hell she’d hate more than usual. and also all the things i’m gonna do in later knife’s edge chapters. and also that time i posted “this sucks for everyone but me, the writer who loves making things worse”

47. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

one. two if i’m really motivated. like a quarter of the way through before i give up and post immediately if i’m really UNmotivated. don’t be like me

53. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

i go through phases of each. i’ve written a lot this month, i read a lot last month. i think probably like 60:40 reader/writer but it’d probably be 50:50 if i wasn’t so committed to leaving comments with my full thoughts (and i love commenting. so i will not give that up)

59. Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

my mom said she’d read my noir au when i told her about it (she has not). my grandma tried to figure out what to get me for my birthday by asking what fanfiction characters i liked right now. my aunt who i don’t even like has my ao3. i have no shame and also my writing fucks so like

61. Why do you continue writing fics?

I Need. To Read My Ideas. I Need Them To Exist. The Words Need To Be Out Of My Head And In A Form I Can Enjoy. also it’s fun and i like the community aspect of fandom

67. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

i love prompts and challenges but the fics i’ve been most excited to write have been fully independent ideas. still, fics i’ve loved and think are some of my best have come from challenges! so. idk i guess wishy-washy copout answer It Depends

71. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

i got a note on my phone with bullet points that are not clear enough and that i will be confused about later until at 3am i remember what the hell i meant by a bullet simply reading “jowan” (note: this is a real example. it is not a dragon age fic)

73. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

i got no clue. i’m so bad at describing my own writing in general, i have no idea how to differentiate it from others’ work. i like it though! i’m just terrible at articulating stuff about my Own writing lmfao

fox you sent this to me An Hour Ago. if there are typos dont tell me. if i missed a prime number for Sure dont tell me. goddamn.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

HELLO BELOVED CKB!! I have been restraining myself for months (hypothetical since I have no sense of time) on the topic of fictional characters that remind people of Yves. Because Oh Boy do I have a big one.

Have you seen Vil Schoenheit from Twisted Wonderland? There are so many parallels it makes me go absolutely bonkers. I might get his character wrong but oh well.

- Vil is insanely rich & a model/actor. Very influential and worked his way to that spot. His skincare and makeup routine is fucking impertinent to him; he must look flawless at all times. He makes sure that he is in prime condition and pushes to make sure that the people in his dorm are of similar regimens.

- Vil is based off of the evil queen (he’s not related to her in any sense btw.) He, by nature, is very nitpicky and motherly towards the people that he cares about even though it can be seen by them as smothering and overwhelming sometimes.

- He specializes in making potions and specifically poisons.

- Oh My God he is so mother and honestly one of my favorite characters and so is Yves which honestly says a lot about me. I need help. Canonically calls his right hand man “dear/darling.”

If I had to relate Yves to another TWST character it would be Malleus Draconia but only looks and obsessiveness and the whole “I want to be with you for eternity” thing.

- 🌷

Oh hell yeah i know Twisted wonderland, I follow a couple of blogs who specialized in making Yandere Fics about them, my favourite is Malleus Fuckin Draconia my man. Im pretty sure you can see my type (Long black hair, green eyes, calm, lithe and vampiric types)

I didn't know shit about twisted wonderland at first, I fr thought it was a yandere dating sim, but I had to learn everything bit by bit from the bits and bobs of canon those authors would sometimes post about, so it was like learning a language from scratch.

I was partially interested in Vil Schoenheit, but I guess most of the fics wrote him as mainly focused on his fanbase and not the reader- like he needs the world to have their eyes on him or he will throw up and die. So that kinda killed my yearning boner off for him because reader's attention is not enough and he requires love from the masses too.

Like fr i appreciate the maternalness of Vil, but it just feels... surface level since I doubt he would be interested in personally wiping reader's ass when they're incapable or cleaning up your puke on himself with a straight face without making a big deal out of it.

and IMO i think he's a little too loud, a little too naggy and his nitpicky comes from a place of self service, not really in the reader's best interest. Like Yves would listen to you and observe 100%, whereas its the other way round for Vil, where you gotta drink the yappuchino he serves. Dont come for me Vil simps i think he is swell despite this </3 I just don't think he would be the parallel of Yves </333

but for MALLEUS tho,,, mans a quiet, antisocial loner from what I saw, only yearning for the attention of the reader (or "yuu"), he's super calm, a recluse, and has like 4 friends. I have read fics that painted him in a maternal light that tickled my heartussy, and I guess thas why i like him more. Because to me, I headcannon he would take care of you himself as if you're paralyzed from the head neck down without complaints or feeling icky when he gotta handle with human bodily fluids. He would mostly listen and observe, maybe infodump about gargoyles but I think he would be a closer match to Yves than Vil in vibes and looks.

Though might wanna consider Jamil Viper from Scarabia, he hates standing out and mans was always depicted as the caretaker to Kalim. And I would like always have the biggest crush on him because,,, hehe caretaker

But he does so begrudgingly and like has a deep hatred for Kalim, I was like damn what if he loves caretaking for me,,, that isn't gonna happen because Jamil comes from a background of injustice and he isn't going to like being subjected to the role forced upon him since birth,,, aha ... unless...

and he's hella smart, but he's moving in silence just like Yves, gritting his teeth but keep on trucking no matter how angery he is. He is calm and quiet, and he listens because he need that information to succeed in his goals, but my delulu ass would be like omg he is so attentive

but theres that spite in Jamil that do be present in Yves though, ironically I would say that Yves is closer in character to Malleus and Jamil than Vil, but i could be just biased and say that because of both appearances are similar to that of Yves rn (Malleus and Jamil has like long, straightish dark hair and them sharp eyes)