#or maybe actually look at the prompts already in my inbox LOL

[consulaaris]

i have so many zori fic ideas lurking in my head rn. so many. someone yell at me to just pick one and write </3

[rainrot4me]

Whats the request you're most excited to write???? Also can you make a list of all the requests you've gotten so far? I just want to see how far down mine is LOL

So basically, I’m going to make it easier on myself to pump these out and fill requests so here’s what I’m planning on doing:

A lot of you have just requested simple “Can you write character x reader?” and left it up to me, but the other half of you (whom i could kiss on the lips ily all) have wrote a detailed, lengthy explanation of what you want and it makes it soooooo easy and enjoyable to just pump my brain to write without having to come up with a plot. So! I’m going to be combining requests and writing for requested characters, but using the specific prompts requested to actually post. I hope that makes sense… you’ll understand when I start posting lol

Anyways- here’s the current list! (I’ve shortened it down, as I look at my inbox I easily have 50 requests I’m just not going to write each individual one)

- Jeff the Killer x Female Reader (on her period) (currently writing!)

- Jeff the Killer x Female Reader x Ben Drowned

- Fluffy Kirishima x Female Reader

- Nina x Female Reader

- Clockwork x Female Reader (strapon yum)

- Hoodie x Female Reader x Masky (hunters x prey)

- Toby, Masky, Hoodie x Female Reader (this one is definitely the one I’m most excited for, already have a draft written up 🔥)

- Toby x Chubby Female Reader x Eyeless Jack

- Continuation of Just Relax (cockwarming and relationship building 😵‍💫 fwb turned deep)

- Kate the Chaser x Female Reader (more strapon YUM)

- Stalker Ben Drowned x Female Reader

- Hoodie x Female Reader (he chases you in a corn maze AHHHH)

- Toby x Clockwork (so excited for this omg)

- Slenderman x Female Reader (maybe a continuation of WITT)

- Toby x Transmasc Reader (clawing at the walls to write this)

- Bloody Painter x Female Reader (“let me help you love yourself” EEEE)

- Jeff the Killer x CVI Female Reader (basically reader is blind and isn’t afraid of him, it’s gonna be so fluffy)

- Jeff the Killer x Toby x Female Reader (Toby is whipped for Jeff and needs an excuse to get with him, so he uses you AHH)

- Toby x Female Reader (they’re childhood friends, major fluff in this one, lots of trauma too)

- Eyeless Jack x Medic Female Reader (basically Jeff and Jack fight over you, BUT JACK WINS!!!! gonna be a good possessive one trust)

- Jessica x Female Reader (very soft very cute)

- Tim Wright x Female Reader (christmas themed!!!!!!!) (might save this one for actual christmas cause it’s gonna be so good)

- Eyeless Jack x Artist Female Reader (you’re lonely, Jack thinks you’re adorable)

- Kagekao x Female Reader (i’m not very familiar with this character but i’ll do my research!!!)

- Jeff the Killer x Female Reader x Toby (heavy non-con)

- Ben Drowned x Tall Female Reader (climb that tree boy!)

- AFAB Jeff the Killer x Reader (considering i don’t want to be insensitive at all, i’m going to converse with the requester and get a more in depth feel of how they want this written! but i’m planning on t4t)

- X-Virus x Female Reader

- Toby x Female Reader x Masky (heavy power struggle)

- Eyeless Jack x Author Female Reader (he begs for your attention YUM)

- Evan/Habit x Female Reader (killer x stalker vibes!)

I’m sure this list will severely change before I know it, but I promise to work as quickly as I can and make all of you happy! I’m so excited for all of these!!!!! Thank you all so much for reading and requesting!!

[jerzwriter]

OK, it took a little over two months, but I actually finished a fic request list, and as someone with far too many items in my inbox, I'm proud of this! lol What better way to end than with "One Bed Fic Prompts" than with Merida, Olivia, and Casey on a road trip? II hope you enjoy it!

Book: Open Heart Pairings: Ethan x Merida (MC); Bryce x Oliva (F!OC); Tobias x Casey (F!MC) Rating: Teen Trope: There's Just One Bed! Words: 1,175 Summary: Merida, Olivia, and Casey's weekend adventure is off to a rainy start, but they always manage to find their own sunshine.

A/N: Based on the prompts below from @storyofmychoices. Also, participating in @choicesaugustchallenge Prompt 14 - Road Trip. Merida belongs to the amazing @lilyoffandoms and Olivia belongs to the wonderful @storyofmychoices. It was fun to write for our girls again!

MOC World Masterlist || Open Heart Masterlist Full Masterlist

Merida always knew how to play it cool. As the rain hammered on the roof of their car, she convinced Olivia and Casey that she had it totally under control. They never suspected that she had been white-knuckling it the whole time and was the most relieved of all when she saw the small motel they were staying in overnight in the distance.

The Snugglin' Inn looked nothing like it did online. The -g was missing from the neon sign flickering ominously in the night. Its garish pink light reflected in the dozens of little lakes that had formed in the potholes in the parking lot. But after hours on the road in treacherous conditions, the women were willing to stay anywhere... except for maybe Olivia.

“Are you sure this is the place?” she asked nervously.

“Yep, this is it!” Merida smiled. “Rustic charm! Just like the website said!”

"Ah,” Casey said, stretching her arms over her head. “If by charm they mean probably haunted, then yeah, no false advertising claim here! But as long as our room is dry... I’ll fight off the resident ax murderer for one night."

“You don’t really think there’s an ax murderer,” Olivia swallowed. “Do you?”

“Of course there is,” Merida winked. “All motels in Pennsylvania have one. Didn’t you know?”

Casey nodded in agreement. "Yep, state code!"

They rushed to the trunk to grab their bags, then dashed to the tiny lobby dripping wet. The clerk barely glanced at them as she handed over a room key while half-heartedly warning about the air conditioner being on the blink. Normally, faulty air conditioning would be enough to make Casey sleep in the car, but between the rain and talk of murderers, she was eager to get to their room.

“What’s the likelihood that this place has room service?” Olivia asked as they made their way down the outside corridor, her stomach growling.

“About as likely as it is to have comfortable beds,” Merida chuckled.

“Hey,” Casey laughed. “These places are known for being rented by the hour... the beds are what they’re all about.”

“You would know that,” Olivia grinned as Merida pushed the door open.

"Well, this is cozy," Merida said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she tossed her bag onto the bed. The sole queen-sized bed in the tiny room.

Olivia looked around, nervously biting her lip. "Uhm, where are the other beds?"

"There aren’t any," Casey sighed. “It’s OK. One of us can sleep in the bathtub.”

“No one is sleeping in the bathroom; that’s ridiculous!” Merida insisted. “Have you not seen Psycho? No one goes in the bathroom! If we have to pee – do it in the corner of the room.”

“We probably wouldn’t be the first ones to do that,” Casey observed.

“Guys! Are you sure we should stay here?” Oliva worried.

“We’ll be fine,” Casey assured. “It’s just a night.”

Ever practical, Merida was already looking for solutions to the sleeping arrangements. “If we push the bed against the wall, that should prevent at least one of us from falling onto the floor. It might be a little crowded, but it will do.”

"Crowding is inevitable,” Casey smiled. "But we’re all friends, and it’s not like this is the first time we’ve had to share a bed. Remember the time we stayed at that place in The Berkshires?"

Merida couldn’t help but giggle at the memory. "You mean the time you woke up spooning Olivia, and she nearly had a stroke?"

"Hey, I was asleep! I can’t control what I do in my sleep," Casey defended, although her playful grin betrayed her. "Besides, Olivia was fine with it. Being spooned by Casey is kind of a badge of honor!”

"She’s not wrong," Olivia blushed.

After changing quickly, they all settled into bed with Casey in the middle, Merida against the wall, and Olivia on her other side.

“If I fall on the floor during the night, do you think I’ll catch anything contagious?” Oliva asked.

“Liv,” Merida said pointedly. “We're all doctors. Even if you do, we should be able to cure you.”

Just as they were beginning to get comfortable, Merida’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it and rolled her eyes.

"It's Ethan. Look what he sent me.”

“Again? What does he mean again?” Olivia asked. “He never bailed us out before!”

Merida and Casey exchanged sheepish grins, and Oliva was too frightened to ask.

“Tell Ethan to bite me!” Casey laughed. “Tobias would bail us out in a heartbeat. In fact, he’s probably home looking forward to it right now.”

“Speaking of Tobias,” Olivia smiled, handing Casey her phone from the nightstand beside her.

“Oh, my husband thinks he has jokes,” Casey chuckled, showing her friends her phone.

“He's calling me an octopus! He's seriously like an octopus! I mean it! Those arms go everywhere."

Merida let out a groan. “For the love of God, Casey... if you start talking about your sex life, I will make you sleep in the bathtub with the ax murderer... and I might sharpen his ax."

"Well, tell Tobias not to get too jealous," Olivia giggled. "We’re just here to sleep, not to, you know..."

“Speak for yourself,” Merida laughed, playfully pawing her friend. "You never know what kind of mischief we'll get into!"

Olivia’s phone vibrated next. “It’s Bryce!” She beamed, handing her phone to Casey. “My boyfriend has a warning for you.”

“You know our three idiots are sitting in Donahues Googling memes, believing themselves to be much funnier than they actually are!" Merida insisted.

But Casey didn't hear her; she was too busy shaking her head in righteous indignation. “You spoon a person one time!” She lamented. “One time! I don’t know how I got this reputation!”

“Really?” Merida chortled. “We could give you examples, but I'd like to do other things this weekend, and that would take all our time!"

“Yeah,” Oliva laughed as Casey feigned horror.

“Et tu, Brute!”

With that, Merida hopped over her friends, pushing Casey against the wall and leaving Olivia sandwiched in the middle.

“Hey, what are you doing!” Olivia hollered.

“Tell Bryce you’re safe from Casey on this trip,” Merida laughed, holding her from behind. “But not from me.”

“Hey!” Olivia blushed.

“Sorry! I can't let Casey be the only one with the depraved reputation!" She teased.

Olivia and Merida turned to Casey as she giggled in delight.

“What are you laughing at?" Olivia asked.

“Since Merida is spooning you, I told Tobias I'm forking you. Of course, he wants photos!"

“He wants photos?” Merida chided. "Give me your phone. I’ll give him a photo!"

The friends descended into giggles as they recalled stories, blissfully unaware of their less-than-perfect surroundings. By the time they finally fell asleep, daw was already starting to break, and before they knew it, Merida's alarm went off.

Casey groaned as she snuggled closer to Olivia. "Can we delay getting up for a few more minutes, please?"

"I'm with Casey," Olivia mumbled, resting her head on Merida's shoulder.

Merida shook her head with a grin. "Fine," she said, setting the alarm for fifteen minutes later and then getting back under the cover with her friends. "This is actually kind of nice."

Olivia nodded. "Yeah, I think so too."

"Best road trip ever," Casey yawned. "Now, back to sleep!"

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[ask-sibverse]

Actually I've Been Wanting To Ask For This Prompt For Awhile, But You Seem So Busy With Others And My 50 Something Prompts, But Seeing Your Post...

Could You Do A ReaderxKillerxColor Date?

Hon in my mind we're basically besties from how often you're in my inbox ( @dreamseersystem made me tally how many I had from you and I had five in my inbox lol)

If anything this would probably continue off this little side timeline (side note: while I definitely like writing Nightmare as redeemable/necessary evil/"secretly good" because I project on the Dreamtale twins intensely, Nightmare does have to be a toxic bastard in this version of things)

"You ever been on a three way date?" Killer asked.

You looked up from your book. The pair of you were just hanging out quietly together. Color, ever more versed in terms, said it was called "parallel play" or something. "Uhh no? Why?"

"Cuz I wanna take you both out on a date!" He beamed at you. "I have a day off coming up where Nightmare promises he wont pull me away for anything! It'll be perfect to take my two favorite people out for some fun together!"

You were tempted to remind Killer of the many promises Nightmare had already broken, including this same exact promise. Several times. But he looked so excited, you couldn't bear to ruin that smile. "Sure, that sounds great. Just tell me when and how much to dress up for you guys."

It was about a week later when Killer came to pick you up. He told you not to dress up too fancy, but you still made sure you looked nice for them both. He took you back to Ccino's to meet up with Color and pick up some food he'd ordered before going to Outertale for a picnic date.

You liked getting food from Ccino's, you had a pretty accurate idea of how to bolus for it. Grillby's were pretty consistent across AUs (at least the "standard" ones were), it was really mostly just Muffett's that were hard to guess the right amount of insulin for. (Except your own, of course.)

Regardless, you liked Ccino's and so did Killer and Color so everyone was happy with the food. You all honestly had a lovely time in the quiet and privacy under the stars.

... At least, until Nightmare very predictably started calling Killer and insisted he come home immediately. Which of course upset Killer because "he promised!"

You squeezed his hand. "Hey, its fine. Why don't you come back to meet Color and I at my apartment whenever he's done with you and we can snuggle and watch movies together?"

He sighed. "Fine..."

You and Color looked at each other after he left.

"I knew this would happen," Color ranted. "Nightmare always does this!"

"I know. I did too."

"He needs to get away from Nightmare. He needs to leave. I know the Omega Timeline might not be the best place for him but maybe-"

"You can't force him to leave, Color. Well, technically you could, but it wouldn't help."

"I know, its just. Its frustrating."

"I know. All we can do right now is be here for him, and be safe for him."

And that's what the two of you did, to the best of your ability. You were both in your apartment, as you said you'd be, when Killer was finally done. He very firmly had a mask of "everything is fine" on, but you didn't say anything. You just let him pick a few movies and some snacks, and the three of you cuddled up under a ridiculous amount of pillows and blankets on your couch to just cuddle and relax together.

And if Killer's black goop looked runnier and tearier than usual, well then, he didn't complain about you hugging him a bit tighter and leaving some tissues conveniently within reach.

[33max]

I'm soo late to the game, but I want to say your Turkey Dinosaurs AU is soooo good!! I literally just bought a Timmy Turtle for myself because of it. I'm perfectly content to reread everything you already have written for it (and do reread it regularly lol), but do you have anything else planned?

Thank you so much for your lovely message, it’s so nice to still receive messages about turkey dinosaurs! I’m also so pleased you have a Timmy of your own to direct at things that annoy you 🥹

I have around 90 prompts in my inbox for it, and honestly I’ve not written anything in so long that I just feel a little overwhelmed when I look… so I think I’m going to maybe write something spontaneously and then try and get back into responding to prompts.

One of the things that I want to write next is actually for the red bull au of turkey dinosaurs!!! I want to do a deep dive into GP and max’s relationship, how GP handles being the go to guy when Daniel isn’t available, I have this scene in my head of Daniel and GP getting into a small argument over Max and I am so desperate to write it ♥️

[siren-sashimi]

More ideas for a marquis fanfic (tryna keep it unique, lol)

1: what if the reader was a civilian trying to find her brother (who she doesn’t know was in the assassin world and was killed) and while investigating crosses paths with the marquis?

2: reader is pregnant and dealing with cravings. A cute fluffy fic

3: reader owns a pastry shop the marquis is a patron at.

4: the reader tries to leave the marquis because they can’t take the relationship (maybe the danger that comes with the marquis or he’s too controlling) and he stops the reader before they can leave Paris (can be cute or dark, your choice)

5: aside from romantic relationships, what would it be like being the sibling of the marquis?

Hey, hey anon! Glad to hear from you once more. ^^ There's no pressure for you to be unique, if you feel like chatting about le connard du jour, my inbox is all but ready. :D

Hmm, I wouldn't have any ideas yet but if any other writer finds it appealing, feel free to make something wonderful with the dear anon's prompt. I'm mostly hesistant because Vincent moves on a very specific place of a secret parallel world, extra layer of filthy stinking wealth, making his crossing towards civilian life a bit harder, and him getting interested by accident is a bit harder for me to imagine. There must be something intriguing in the other for him to get interested, let alone care; in my mind at least.

I don't know if I'm any good at fluff, especially since I think the topic of children is an extremely touchy subject in the fickle world of assassins. But when it comes to food topics...

...you're in luck. Recently I read the mad genius food porn "Butter" by Yuzuki Asako in which food is layered with social commentary, thought about the self, lust for joy, lust for life, gender dynamics, worth by looks. (If the story sounds interesting to you, I highly recommend giving it a try. It was like a literary banquet to me.) Meaning I'm extremely open to the idea of sensuality expressed in the joys of food, extremely well made food. Here, another snippet you inspired me to write, thank you. (x) (btw, this was the reason the reply comes in that late... Sorry, I got very carried away with entire chapter outlines because I'd so many ideas for the meals that could be served. If anyone's interested I might put up as well.)

Oh gosh this can only go terribly bad... I'm pretty certain that Vincent, especially when he made it into the position of a Marquis, would be unbearably egocentric. Which means he wouldn't understand why he isn't all one could wish for. At all. There're already two such scenarios out there but I'm dabbling in an outline. Note that in the movie Vincent might be way too sure that his plans suceed with his methods. Still, like when he noticed sending the entire Parisian underworld after John Wick failed, he doesn't delude himself thinking he might still suceed. He just desperately throws more money at the problem. So I don't think that he's an unrealistic person yet one who's too used to getting what he wants, and not exactly good at fine methods. If that's his way to solve problems... oh boy...

Before we start I would like to preface that I like to use Skarsgård's idea of the Marquis coming from an impoverished background who has made it to the top. In can the relationship going two ways a) The siblings never really got along, chose different paths in life, and barely see each other. They might meet at funerals or weddings but only if Vincent can make it, by now the sibling isn't counting on him anymore actually. Not without a tinge of bitterness that remains in the mouth for longer than expected... Sometimes Vincent drops by randomly; less out of affection but more because he needs a hideaway after getting into trouble. When his sibling is in need of money or get their first child an anonymous deposit lands on their bankaccount with some more poetic variation of "thanks for letting me crash on your couch". Still, no noticable affections, no frequent, let alone scheduled visits... b) Co-dependent, verging on unhealthy. cw: emotionally difficult relationship, threats, emotional blackmailing, unhealthy sibling dynamic From the two of them, Vincent is the highly ambitious one to make it out of his life. Violence, lying, backstabbing, force are all fair means to his end. The only actual affection he has, the only one sparking humane feelings is for his sibling. In his egoism and strong drive, Vincent is the more dominant one. Even if the other sibling doesn't have a meek personality, they know at some point that they'll always find themselves in the wash of their driven sibling. Vincent will drag them with them to a better life. And Vincent needs his sibling. The only person he can trust, he knows will never betray or pose a threat to him. Maybe he will allow them to life their own life albeit be it in his design. Him being always close enough to receive comfort, encouragement, and a hideaway when needed. Their siblings knows a lot of disturbing stuff Vincent did to make it this far... It's upsetting, he did so much for them. They can't out a single sound to no one. Oh, if the sibling ever wants to make decisions causing Vincent to worry if they would prioritize affection for some else but him, he can get mean, frantic, even vaguely threatening to take the sibling's life style comfort away like cutting money for higher education, making it impossible to find a new place to rent or buy, get them fired. (Let's just say, dating includes the partner desperately needing Vincent's approval. If the reader ever wants to gets kids, they should urgently plan out an entire strategy how to slowly selling Vincent on the idea of becoming an uncle, and how of course he would be the most involved uncle of them all.) Then there's also the aspect that Vincent is a man envied by many. He might use them as pawn or bait with or without his sibling's knowledge. By times the sibling has to interrupt their own life because they're in danger from Vincent's enemies - again and again.... The worst is, Vincent is too headstrong to admit to his wrongs. He even justifies it that so much he did is for them too. But the reader lives well, they're happy they're out of their birthplace. A calm home, maybe a little garden, a fulfilling job, some holidays, a good life, that's all. They don't want more, why does Vincent act as if he needed to do all of that for more, more, and more his own sibling neither wants or needs? As much as they love him, in the end the only end to his means is Vincent himself.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

TW: mentions of kidnapping, mentions of test experiments/experimentation (if i missed anything, sorry!)

hello! so i’ve got a character (call ‘em ‘E’) that’s been kidnapped cause the kidnapper (they’re ‘B’) wants to, uh, conduct some experiments (a lot, actually)

E is very terrified of fire and lava. they are also incredibly vulnerable/easily hurt by fire/lava, even more so than humans (E is a humanoid extra-terrestrial). they take twice more damage from fire/lava than regular humans….they also have trauma from fire and lava

E has actually been experimented on before and had escaped and had begun to heal and recover from the events that had occurred. so now that they’re stuck in the (well, almost) exact situation is extremely distressing.

B wants to experiment (and i’m not saying it in a good way) on E because E’s an extra-terrestrial species and not much is known about the species nor is there a lot of people that are that species, so they’re pretty rare. so B wants to experiment on E and like how much of *insert something like pain* they can handle and etc.

so…yeah! any prompts/ideas? this got to be quite longish, sorry about that lol

Hey! So sorry this has taken me a minute to get to, my inbox can get a little hectic sometimes - hence why I'm answering this one straight up. Also, I love a good sci-fi/inhuman whumpee concept, and this one is very interesting!

So prompts for an alien character terrified by fire/lava:

If you wanna go 'full cheese' (stereotypical) then the laboratory could literally be held in some kind of lava flats/even a volcano. The lava fields of Nevarro (Star Wars) come to mind if you need some inspiration. So already E could be looking out of the transport. seeing all this fire/lava and freaking out. This opens them up to bullying from the guards transporting them. Maybe E panics as they approach their destination, seeing as the lava flows more in this area/it's a lot hotter.

They nearly pass out upon arrival - which gives B even more ammunition.

Maybe in the cell, B leaves a trough of/pours molten rock across the floor, causing E to back into a corner. They are unable to rest comfortably due to the heat/panic it causes/limited space they have. When it cools they have no choice but to sleep on it.

Maybe it's as simple as B lighting a cigarette - they catch how E's eyes focus on the flame. As time goes on, they keep their thumb on the lighter as the speak/they hold to too close to the whumpees clothes for comfort.

Maybe the only light source in the room is from candles.

When it comes to the 'experiments', B could use flames from different sources to see how the skin on E's back reacts. (Or B could do this on a surface that was burned in the past). So B could use lighters/hot coals/a blowtorch etc etc to experiment with. They consider the experiment a success when E starts screaming.

E sometimes tries to bargain, and begs them to contact the last person that experimented on them as they have the information B wants. B smiles and says "Then where's the fun in that?"

^ Or maybe B does take up E's offer, giving E a slight respite and a chance to escape.

Except they're recaptured, and tied to a spit: slowly turned above an open flame which burns their body and singes their hair...

[bellysoupset]

Hi Soup!

Just so you know, "🐆 anon" will be retiring now, as I am starting to use my blog to post. So yeah, that was me, and if for some reason I'm commenting on anon again, that would be me. ☺️

Well then.

Nooo, your stories haven't been boring! I'm loving the new Max and Vince relationship, seeing Wen and Vin succeed at long distance is so fulfilling, and I love seeing Jon's interactions with his family. Luke being jealous over Max is so funny to me, and I can't wait to see them deal with this. (Honestly, I'm shipping the throuple, but I'll love them all no matter what they do) I love being able to understand characters better, and I feel like all of these interactions are very character building, and will benefit any future developments.

It would be great for Jon to come back though... I miss him. I was thinking earlier today how I miss Jon/Wen interactions, and then remembered he's in Europe. But maybe we could get a phone call or something?

It's weird having Jon in Europe, and it takes away of lot of interaction possibilities, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, and I love seeing this other side of him. A lot of your characters have crappy parents, and I love that Jon has Jackie and Matteo that are turning out to be pretty good, and Angie rocks.

(I'd read a Bella fic with pregnancy-related talk... I'm loving Andy's Mila and Drew storylines, I'd love to see more authors talking about these topics)

Okay, question. (I found this prompt list a while ago that I've been going through with some of my characters: https://www.tumblr.com/judasrpc/687874557884907520/weirdly-specific-but-helpful-character-building)

So, my questions are (for any or all characters):

What's the lie your character tells the most?

What's a hobby they used to love that they don't do anymore?

As always, loving your writing!

Bro, I'm sorry I could swear I had answered this??

I'm so sorry!!

NOW! I kneeeew it was you! When you sent the first ask off anon I was like 🧐🧐🧐 I wonder if Jey is the leo anon!! I'm so happy to be proven right lol.

I'm following your characters bios and I'm very excited for your first story!

Look, my dramatic streak aside, I know my stories aren't boring per se, but sometimes I get the sensation I could be doing more with it, which was what I was being annoying about in the first place and now my inbox is filled with you lovely people reassuring me, but I swear it was never my intention! I just wanted like criticism, I guess? 🙈🙈 I'll shut up now

I'm so happy you're on board for so many of my creative choices. I miss Jon dearly, but he's coming back SOON, especially with the new Leo fic, cannot be away a minute longer. Also, you mentioned Vin/Wen winning at the long distance is fulfilling and I second this, because even as the author I was doubtful at first. My characters often do not obey me, so it was much to my delight as well.

I really like writing Jon with Jackie/Matteo, as you correctly clocked me I have a thing for damaged parent/kid's relationships (projecting yay!) and I feel like Jon and his fam all working to make it work this time around brings me a lot of comfort when I'm typing. Of course things aren't always perfect and not everyone can rekindle their broken relationships (many of my ocs!), but it's so nice to write someone who can!

I hear you about Bella! 👀

So for the questions, I'm so sorry my answer is already huge:

What's the lie your character tells the most?

I don't think my characters lie a lot, actually! Most of them are annoyingly honest, Jon-Wen-Bella, or naively honest, Vince-Luke. Leo and Max I guess are the ones who lie more often, Leo lies about being "busy" a LOT, the most creative lies, but truly all he wants is to stay home with his cat, his musical movies, his guy. He's probably killed his grandma whom he never met like 3 times already and he's really good at keeping track of his lies.

Max lies about minor stuff, just for a chuckle. It's more deadpan sarcasm than lying, I guess? But he also lies pretty much daily about his stomach, because he does not have the patience to explain time and time again that no, he's not chronically ill, he's just the God's most hated idiot. He'll go "no, I'm allergic to that" about literally any food that's offered and that he knows it's gonna upset his stomach. Some older teachers call him the "bubble boy" because of that older movie about a man who couldn't get out of his bubble.

What's a hobby they used to love that they don't do anymore?

Bella used to practice skating and she doesn't anymore, she cannot be bothered since their town is almost always raining.

Wendy has had every hobby under the sun, she's done pottery and jazz dance, but grew out of both.

Luke was obsessed with wordle for a hot minute, but nowadays he's let it go.

Vince isn't as big a reader as he once was, he used to be a total bookworm.

Max has hit a rough patch, he used to go hiking a lot, but for no bigger design, he kinda hit a slump and has been at home much more.

[thegoldenshi-shi]

Hello Shi-Shi! It’s already been two months already and I am dumbfounded at how fast time goes, I swear it was just the start of June yesterday haha. I hope you are doing well!

Not much has happened since I last spoke unfortunately. I had Softball provincials last weekend so that’s exciting! We didn’t win or anything, but we played good and I’m kinda sad it ended so soon. Where I am, we’ve had a lot of rain so lots of my games were cancelled this year, unfortunately.

I’m still learning to driving! I’ve gotten better, definitely, but I still need a bit of guidance and help sometimes, especially when driving through the city. I really enjoy driving; it’s unfortunate that schools ended so now I don’t get to drive to school every morning and drive back, but I love the times that I do get to drive.

I’ve seen your recent artworks and I absolutely love them! I’m sure you’ve seen me pop up every now and then to like your posts. The Bluestreak one, with its beautiful colours and all that, is perhaps my favourite (I may be slightly biased as Bluestreak is one of my favourite TF characters,,) but all the others are wonderful too! Especially the Ratchet one haha, he looks so confused or traumatized. I also love the two grumpy children and the happy baby bug, they are all so beautiful ^^.

And the Mermay drawing of Leona! That one is so gorgeous, he looks so cheeky and the lighting is so well done! All the details, it’s just *chefs kiss*. I didn’t make anything for Mermay this year unfortunately (or maybe I did,, I’m not sure anymore, I’ve been on a drawing roll with a lot of drawings, I’m making a humanformers Jazz/Prowl right now!)

I think after all this text, that’s it haha. Don’t want to make this a whole essay, after all. I hope you have a good day/night, Shi-Shi!

-Meister/Vexian?

Hi there Meister! It's nice to see you again! I saw your message in my inbox and gave a little hop. Time really does fly doesn't it?

I'm sorry to hear that you were rained out for so much of your season. That being said, I think that so long as you had a good time with the games you played, it's a good season.

I didn't drive myself to school until college, so I had a different learning curve than yours. I also didn't enjoy driving just because it takes a while to get from Point A to Point B where I live, but I can say that learning to drive is definitely a slow process. If you like doing it, you'll be driving well and comfortably quickly (a lot faster than I did hehe).

I'm very happy you liked my latest pieces. I've been stuck in an extended rut and have had to fight tooth-and-nail for every picture I draw. But returning to comfort characters (I too have a soft spot for Bluestreak) and putting some of my more ambitious projects on hold has helped a little. Mermay is the only art-event-thingie I actually try to put something out for, and as I said on the Leona picture, I BARELY squeaked him in. Getting art ready for a prompt like Mermay or Inktober for example, can be a challenge so more often than not I'm in the same boat of "didn't make anything for it this year" Kind of like how I always say "I'll make it to the art-fight next time" and never do lol

I'm glad to hear from you and happy that you're doing well Meister, or would you rather I use Vexian now? I wish you good luck on your art pieces and that drawing roll will continue~ Have a wonderful day/night

[randomstarmuffin]

Hm. What’s this? I seem to— drop something— oh! It’s the number 6. On a rug. Arug. Interesting :39

Spotify wrapped inbox prompt! Accepting (...but if anyone else is interested please do not expect it to be quite this long it very well could be but I am not capable of making length promises you really cannot trust me)

6. “Adhd” by Truslow (39. “Tonight You’re Perfect” by New Politics)

aw, geez, not on the-- i just had that steamed... now look what you’ve done, there’s a big ol 6 on the carpet. are you happy??? (actually though, i’m going to need to know how you somehow wrote 2 numbers -- I am counting the number you hid secretly in the emoticon -- of songs which are NOT on my arug playlist, but which DO completely fit. howd you do that huh??)

Sorry, there’s a clear reason I don’t post fics to tumblr usually lol. Behold, something that FAR exceeds drabble territory:

    “Stop!”

Doug drops back on his heels, instantly obeying. He already felt a bit winded, but now his lungs constrict in a terrible little squeeze that has nothing to do with running up a staircase and hiding in a tiny alcove under the hush of night sky where only the full moon can see them.

Maybe he’s stupid, especially compared to Arthur, but he’s pretty sure even he couldn’t have misread such an obvious sign. An obvious, bright and shining KISS ME, STUPID sign in the, like, atmosphere or whatever: the way Arthur had been looking at him, in how close together they’d been, in the way the conversation had naturally petered out and Arthur had glanced at his lips and leant in and closed his fucking eyes and–

And put up his hands to push Doug away by the shoulders not half a second later.

Which, fine. Doug can roll with it, and it’s not like it would really bother him if Arthur had actually changed his mind or just realized he wasn’t into it or wasn’t as comfortable as he’d thought at first or whatever.

But.

But.

The way he won’t meet Doug’s gaze anymore, and the way his posture straightened up—not just to stop bending down toward Doug, but also in that stupid way he gets when he’s feeling awkward or like he has something to prove. The way his expression is stabilizing into that level, flat, stupid mask he tries so hard to keep up all the time, and for what? His real smile—a little lopsided, a little crinkly in the nose in a way that makes his glasses ride up ever so slightly, if you’re watching for it—is a much nicer, more welcoming thing. It’s gone now, though, as surely fallen away and lost as tree leaves in winter.

The problem isn’t that Arthur’s drawing a line about the attempted kiss. The problem is that Doug can see in his eyes that he doesn’t feel differently; he’s feeling what Doug’s feeling, and he wants it as badly, and he fucking won’t go through with it.

That’s what hits Doug like a punch to the gut. He’s not worth trying.

Arthur’s arms drop back to his side, and then seemingly feeling that wasn’t enough to dispel the awkward tension (it wasn’t), he clasps them behind his back, too, for good measure. What, was he worried Doug would try to hold his hands?

“We… We can’t– We shouldn’t be doing this. I should…” he makes an aborted gesture indicating he means I should be going.

And, man. Fuck this.

Doug laughs humorlessly. “Why? I’m not on your list of pre-approved suitors, or whatever you do in your fancy ass castle? Can’t be seen ‘consorting’ with the hired help?”

Arthur flinches a little. Good.

“Doug–”

“No, Arthur, you listen up,” Doug interrupts, crowding into Arthur’s space despite his half-baked attempts to back away. He jabs a finger into his royal highness’s chest, hard enough that with any luck he’ll be feeling it far longer than only while it rests there. “Save that shit for your subjects, or whatever the hell. Don’t fucking tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. You don’t get to decide that for me. Sorry if that’s not what you’re accustomed to.”

“I’m not–” Arthur grits his teeth, just slightly, barely visible in the pale moonlight, a tick of irritation even he can’t mask completely. He takes an ever-so-slightly shaky breath. “I fail to see,” he amends carefully, sounding no more put off than he is delivering the upcoming week’s weather forecast (and all the more out of place because of it), “the need for you to– to be– like…this.”

He steps back again, and this time pushes Doug’s hand away as well. In its absence, he pointedly does not rub at the spot Doug’s finger had been, despite the fact that Doug’s 90% sure he accomplished his goal of making it bruise.

“Like what, Arthur?”

“Like– Just– Agh.” The little noise of aggravation he lets loose would be more gratifying if he weren’t literally turning away at the same time. “I should hardly think I’d need to tell you that.”

Doug crosses his arms and follows right along, keeping the same amount of distance between them. There isn’t much room up here on the observatory’s top deck for him to really go anywhere, after all.

“Oh? Don’t underestimate how stupid I can be. Try me.”

“You’re not–” Arthur takes a breath. “Do not put words into my mouth.”

“Ha!” Doug crows, triumphant. “So don’t put them in mine either, asshole.”

“I– Hff.” Arthur runs a hand up the bridge of his nose, under his glasses, knocking them askew. “Just– Forget it, okay. I… Please, Doug. Just forget about me, we can– We can just act like nothing ever happened.”

“Like nothing ever happened,” Doug repeats. Slowly.

“Yeah—Yes. I will just… We can avoid… That is, if I leave first, you can just wait here for a few minutes before following so Volcanon doesn–”

“Fucking hell, Arthur. Seriously?! First of all, you do realize that pretending we don’t fucking know each other is ten thousand fucking percent more suspicious in a town with a fucking population of twenty fucking people! Which we showed up to together, at the same fucking time? What do you want me to say, I tripped and fell over and—oopsie!—lost my memory, too? Fuck.”

Arthur frowns at him, and for as happy as Doug is to get some kind of reaction, a silent little frown is not going to cut it.

“Is that it, then?” Doug demands. “Or what, are you firing me? How much do you want me to pretend I have no godsdamned clue who you are, exactly? Should I re-introduce myself? My oh my, would you look at that, a real bona fide prince, how very exciting!”

Arthur’s frown pinches in the corner. “Do you want to be fired?” he asks, seeming to surprise even himself a little with the question. Doug would actually have really gotten a kick out of it, if only he’d asked several minutes ago when they were still laughing and the mood hadn’t gone to shit.

“Don’t change the fucking subject.”

“No,” Arthur says. “No, I want to know this. You keep bringing it up. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you–”

“Do you remember that thing we just talked about, where you keep putting damn words in my mouth?”

“–as after all, it’s not like you really…” Arthur blinks at him, trailing off.

Doug rolls his eyes. “So that’s a no, you don’t.”

“I simply,” Arthur says, grimace very briefly twitching across his cheek, “do not see the point in keeping up the—let’s face it—ruse, if you will, when that is clearly not what you want.”

“Oh? Then, tell me. What is it I do want, huh?” Besides a single measly kiss.

(Which he’s clearly not going to get. And it’s so stupid, so stupid, because it’s not like he was even planning to act any differently, after. Nothing had to change—nothing would have changed—if Arthur had just let it happen to begin with. A kiss isn’t really a big deal, even if Doug’s skin is still crawling with the retracted potential of one. But now, well…)

“I believe I was recently informed how distasteful it is to speculate on behalf of other people,” Arthur replies, snippy and over-enunciated. Good. Doug wants snippy.

(It definitely doesn’t tickle that missed-potential itch.)

“Yeah? Well surely they also ‘informed’ you that it’s different when you have permission, right? Go on, lay it on me. Tell me how it is, oh imperial scholar, oh ye of infinite wisdom who always knows best. Hit me.”

It’s gratifying that Arthur, of all people, looks for half a moment as though he might have been considering taking him up on it, literally. Of course, he would never, but it’s the thought that counts. Especially with Arthur.

“Mmn. If I had to speculate. I would say what you want, what you have been expressly complaining about in no uncertain terms since we left the capital, no less, is for me to ‘get out of your hair,’ as I believe you once put it. I fail to see the problem with fulfilling those wishes now, is all.”

“Hah. Do you.”

As though that weren’t ages ago. As though everything hasn’t changed since then.

As though Arthur doesn’t know exactly how little Doug had been hoping Arthur would ‘get out of his hair’ moments ago, huddled in that alcove. As though he doesn’t have eyes and can’t see how little Doug wants that now, either, despite Arthur’s best efforts.

And, really. It’s insulting and he knows better. He’ll have to try much harder than this.

“I merely wish to be conscientious.”

Doug snorts. “Sure. Call it what you need, buddy.”

Arthur opens his mouth, but falters at the last second before he can say anything more.

And Doug could almost scream, because he realizes a half second before it happens that he’s lost. That he’s lost Arthur, lost him to himself, to his thoughts and worries about every godsdamned thing except the one thing he ought to be looking out for: himself.

And not what he thinks that should mean, not how people see him and what they think of him and how his actions will reflect. Him.

Doug watches Arthur slam the door on himself, not for the first time, and, for the first time, wonders if Arthur even knows what that means. If he even knows what he’s doing to himself.

Doug’s been playing this part for a while now, pretending to be the sort of stalwart companion they both know he obviously isn’t. He would even say he’s been doing a good job of it, that it’s worked out well for the both of them, all things considered. And, fine, he can admit it—he was trying. He didn’t have to put as much effort into it, not when they’d already left the capital and there wasn’t anyone else around who could have filled the role even if Arthur had wanted them to.

But Doug had tried. And that’s not easy to admit because it is quite clearly contrary to his cause, but– How could he help himself when he’d caught a glimpse of what he could find behind the façade?

And where exactly had that gotten him?

Whether Arthur can see Doug’s turmoil, he can’t be sure, but either way he is unmoved to change his mind and continue talking. He takes a breath and with naught more than a prim nod turns gracefully on his heel and resumes his approach of the exit, neither too hurried as to betray frustration or anger nor too slowly as to betray hesitance or remorse.

Unbidden and despite the fact he’d known to expect this as soon as he saw the shift in Arthur’s expression, Doug scoffs, a sound of disgust and scorn and deeply unpleasant surprise.

And maybe some unpleasant surprise at the unpleasant surprise, too. Like… It’s not really that important. Doug doesn’t care that much about this. About Arthur.

And really, even though he does, what had he been expecting all this time? Why let it get this far? He knows what has to happen. He’s always known! He’s worse than Arthur’s being right now, if he really deluded himself into thinking he could have this and achieve his goal at the same time and everything would stay all hunky-dory. If he thought he could get this close and expect there to be no consequences.

Because now, as Doug watches Arthur rebuild his walls twice as high and twice as thick, he realizes he can’t do this.

Sure, he shouldn’t do this, he’s always known that, deep down. He let himself do this for far too long, it’s true. But all this time, it’s been because he could do it, because there wasn’t anything to stop him, because he could keep idly poking and prodding and being rewarded with more pieces of the puzzle.

But he can’t. Not anymore.

It’s not that he thinks those walls are insurmountable. Frankly, given enough time just standing here staring him down, Doug thinks it would be pretty easy to bring them crumbling to dust again. Not like it’d be the first time, after all.

And it’s certainly not that he’s seen a side of Arthur he finds repelling—if anything, he’s seen more evidence tonight that Arthur is capable of fighting for himself than not, which is… Well, not worth examining further, right now, however it might make Doug feel about him.

He can’t do this because Arthur is capable of being this person Doug can see, so clearly, who has so obviously been dying to get free, all this time, but he keeps choosing not to be.

And Doug is too in l–

He. Is too…involved to keep watching him do it.

If Arthur wants to keep doing this to himself, then, hey, that’s great. It’s not like it has ever once been Doug’s place to tell him what to do with himself. (Not like he’d ever listen even if he tried.)

But it is Doug’s place to choose what he does, and he can’t let his choice be to watch someone take everything they have to offer and smother it, over and over and over and over.

He’s lost too much. He can’t keep losing Arthur, again and again.

(If his revenge consists of getting rid of the people responsible for his losses, paying them back, giving them as good as what was got, how could that possibly figure in this? Who is he supposed to be mad at, if it’s all one and the same? What is he supposed to do about it?)

Much better to just be done with it than stand around and let it happen.

So, Doug watches Arthur retreat, chin high and immoveable and untouchable, as he’s done several times before. And he knows it’s not enough. There’s no finality in it, there’s only Arthur’s expectation—whether Arthur is aware of it or not—that eventually Doug will, once again, follow his lead, no matter how plentiful or loud his grumblings about it will be. He’ll still be there anyways.

And for just one second, Doug allows himself to imagine that things are different. That he can and will do just that.

Maybe it wouldn’t have to be just a daydream, hidden in a secluded area under the moonlight.

Maybe it’d be something they could figure out in concert, in harmony, more than the first draft of a melody only they can hear, something real and open and true.

Maybe it’s something they could learn to do together.

“Maybe it’s time to just admit it,” Doug says coldly, freezing Arthur’s retreating back in place on the stairs. Like this, they’re about the same height, and Doug appreciates how it makes boring holes into the back of that stupid, entitled, idiotic blonde head easier.

“…Admit what?” Arthur asks slowly when Doug doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t turn around.

“Admit that we’ve done all we can do for each other. We made it to Selphia, like you wanted—woulda been nice to have a head’s up there, by the way! And you already know I’m not really here because I cared about…attending to you, or honor, or whatever. So we’re good,” Doug replies dismissively.

Arthur still does not turn. “…We did achieve the first aim I intended to pursue, yes. And as I said, I will not stop you if you do not wish to retain your position. However, if you are under the impression I have accomplished everything I set out to do, you are mistaken.”

“No, you’re right,” Doug agrees.

Arthur is playing the specifics close to his chest, so Doug may not know everything, but he knows Arthur is clearly up to something when late into the night most nights, he can still be found pouring over records and receipts and maps and recovered journal entries by candlelight. Doug doesn’t really get where all of the documents even come from, but he knows there’s a kind of rhyme and reason to the haphazard way they end up in towering stacks on one side of Arthur’s desk, same as the so-called organization of his extensive collection of glasses.

What exactly Arthur’s secret agenda is isn’t important, though. The problem is and always has been Doug’s agenda. Selfishly, he hopes Arthur is clever enough to figure that out himself.

“But,” Doug continues, biting out the words, “as far as what you wanted—why bother pretending that it’s—that we’re—nothing when, clearly, it really was nothing. So. Later. It’s been real.”

Arthur turns around then, stricken. Doug has never seen such an expression on his face. Maybe he shouldn’t like the heady curl of pleasure he takes in having caused it, considering the circumstances, but oh, does he.

Maybe it’s not fair, when he’s decided to be this way not because he doesn’t care, but rather because he has all at once discovered he cares entirely too much. But that angry part of him—the part that wants to just grab Arthur by the scruff and wring him around until he realizes how stupid he’s being, the part that hates being so entirely consumed by something ultimately futile, the part that just wants to take all the things burning him up inside out on everyone, someone, anyone, around him if only so he isn’t the only one in flames—that part of him wants Arthur to hurt, too. Even if it isn’t fair. Even if he doesn’t figure as much to Arthur as Arthur does to him. (Even if, improbably, heinously, unforgivably—he does.) He should still have to feel something at Doug’s absence.

“No, no,” Doug says, deciding to screw it, to let that part of him take over, “Go on, now. Please, don’t stop on my behalf.”

Yet.

It’s petty, and it’s desperate.

But the other part of Doug?

It really, really hopes he does. Please.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur can’t stop.

Arthur would do a lot of things, ones he’d never really thought he’d have reason to, much less want to, on Doug’s behalf.

Just, not stop.

If he stops, he may never start again. If he stops, and admits that he—enjoys? Covets? Anticipates?

Desires, ardently?

—the time that he spends in Doug’s company, that he wants nothing more than to go back to that quiet, shining moment in the alcove across the observatory deck and freeze it and trap it in a jar and hold it close so he can live in it forevermore? If he admits that, he has to admit that there’s no purpose to what he’s seeking out, that finding it—finding her—won’t give him what he wants. That he’s spent all this time searching for something in the entirely wrong places.

That the thing he wishes for above all else wasn’t really anything special, that there wasn’t a deeper meaning behind it, that there wasn’t a reason he can point to. That it’s something one can just happen upon by accident. That there’s nothing to earn, nothing to prove, no epic quest required to win the right to glittering riches unimaginable.

That it’s incidental, and small, and plentiful, and common, and he’s spent so long chasing a dead end lead with such single-minded focus that he’d missed it every time it’s been right in front of him. Or if not it, then—the truth of it, which is something of equal, or perhaps even greater, import to him.

He can’t admit that. He knows it can’t be true. He has evidence, eyewitness testimony. It’s a pledge and it’s a duty and it’s a struggle and it cannot be easy or else how much time will he have wasted?

It’s difficult. Everyone says so. He knows it to be so.

But, says the errant little voice in his head, did you ever think to ask in which ways it should be?

Arthur can’t stop, and there’s a reason he’d had to beg Doug to do it earlier, to stop, instead of pulling away from that almost-kiss on his own.

Kiss. Had they really almost…?

Not that it means anything, necessarily. There are plenty of reasons to do something like that. Plenty of reasons that aren’t the only one Arthur can seem to conjure up, which is really more of a laughable non-reason than anything concrete or real.

He had simply wanted to.

They had been so close, and Doug had been right there, and that had been the only thing he could think—not even really think, truly. More like, he hadn’t been thinking, or couldn’t think, and had only possessed an impulse to do it, and… Well, and nothing else. Scarily, he doesn’t think he has a better justification to point to.

So, it’s– It’s good Doug had listened to him, that they’d avoided it. How unnecessarily complicated; how improperly had Arthur been willing to take advantage of someone he held a position of power over.

(…Technically. Sort of. Not that it means anything in practice. He thinks, if the mood were different, Doug would laugh himself to tears if he suggested this aloud, and say something about how Arthur wishes that were the case.)

Arthur doesn’t suggest it aloud. Instead, he meets Doug’s eyes, belatedly realizing they’re at height with his own, owing to his being on the steps. They catch on the moonlight and flash that fascinating striking silver; there’s steel in them, too, now, but also something else, molten and alive and demanding, all at once anvil and ingot and hammer alike.

If only Arthur could figure out which shape they’re being stricken into.

Something is different about this, as compared to every other time Doug has complained and threatened to leave Arthur’s “sorry ass” behind to be torn apart and eaten by palm cats on his own, that he has better things to do than babysit a “grown-ass” man all day.

(Are all of Doug’s insults ass-related, now that Arthur thinks about it? It’s not something to ponder on right now, but it’s hard not to consider all the same.)

Arthur really must be out of it, but either Doug doesn’t realize or doesn’t care that that’s the case, because he seems to take Arthur’s continued silence to be its own kind of answer. Something changes, a shift in his weight or a twitch in his expression, something Arthur can’t quite put his finger on but can’t help noticing all the same.

Doug blows an angry huff of air, and Arthur can tell he’s hesitated too long. He’d thought they could salvage this and just go back to how things had been, but he misstepped somewhere, and he just can’t figure out where.

He doesn’t exactly get a chance to mull it over, though.

Under his breath, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but also sort of like part of him absolutely does, he says, “Figures you’d leave too. I guess that’s all you ever learned to do, huh?”

Arthur nearly doesn’t recognize the nasty voice lowly gutting him in an afterthought, pulling apart every single piece of his insides, sizzling as it cuts through him, but he doesn’t have time to dwell about the tone or the speaker when the words have seized him to the point of gasping for air.

It’s a swift, violent thing. For the way it dismantles every conscious thought and sensation in his body, if he had the slightest bit left of his propriety he’d almost say it was a mercy, such an expedient—such an accurate, precise—execution.

But he can’t breathe, doesn’t remember how, isn’t sure if he wants to, so how can he possibly be expected to respond?

But an assassin’s job isn’t to torture, is it? Get in, finish it, get out. Arthur still doesn’t know the whole story, but it may as well be the truth, too, for everything he does know about why Doug dropped himself onto his doorstep in the first place.

Regardless of how well-trained for it he is, Doug wraps this hit up quietly, short and to the point. And Arthur almost wants to thank him for it.

“Don’t worry,” Doug says, voice so close to Arthur’s ear and so very, very far away. “I’ll save you the trouble.”

And he shoulders past Arthur and just.

Leaves.

Arthur isn’t sure how long he stands there, feet on stairs at different heights, nearly-but-not-quite-by-a-step-or-two on the observation deck all alone, growing cold in night air. There’s a chill in it, absent of a breeze but rather of the type that merely sinks directly into your bones without any motion, the kind your body involuntary soaks up like a sponge. He doesn’t remember how Doug left, exactly, though he supposes, with no shortage of hysteria, that he must have used the stairs to do it.

(With no shortage of hysteria, he’s very briefly struck by the thought that he wouldn’t, technically, have had to do so, necessarily, but he shuts that off before he can picture how such an improvised exit would end. He can’t even think it.)

(Besides, how could he have done that when Arthur knows Doug had pushed past him on his way out?)

(He had. Surely, he had. Arthur can feel the phantom burn of his touch blistering his side. He hadn’t imagined that.)

(Right?)

Arthur is on the floor of the observatory deck, the Selphian observatory deck, and he isn’t quite sure how he got there, but all he can think is that this is what he wanted, this is what he asked for.

He’d been begging for this, to be alone, to have his legs collapsed out from under him (somehow, miracle of miracles, not on the stairs but on flat, solid deck, though he’s not sure when that happened, either). His knees, he realizes, sting from the impact of falling on them. He wanted… He wants–

He needs help.

It’s so simple. How he hadn’t realized before is impossible to know. He can’t do what he came here to do on his own.

But things had changed, hadn’t they. Without his noticing, without his permission, without his appreciation, Arthur had gained something he’d never once in all his 19 years had, and he hadn’t even realized it until it was gone. Someone who truly listened, and cared, and not because they were on a payroll, and not in spite of it. Someone who stuck around despite all-too-oft expressing frustrations about situations he’d put them in. Someone who hadn’t known him all his life, and hadn’t asked to hear about it, but had remembered anyway. A confidant.

A friend.

And maybe…

If Arthur hadn’t been so stupid, and blind, and senseless, maybe tonight he could have even been more. Maybe he already had been, and Arthur simply and foolishly had insisted he wasn’t. Hadn’t let him be.

Maybe, despite everything Arthur’s ever known telling him otherwise, maybe that fleeting moment, that moment-before-a-first-kiss, in which everything had felt perfect–

Maybe it really had been?

He struggles with it, but at least the air comes easier to breathe, now. Nothing that feels perfect ever really is. Arthur knows this. He’s always known.

Focusing on the basics always helps. Perfect is imaginary. It’s not real. By definition, it is untouchable and unquestionably impossible.

But.

But the stars shining in Doug’s silver eyes, iridescent in the moonlight. But the lingering echo of his muffled laughter, like a barrier holding out the rest of the world aside from just them two. But the gentle weight of his touch, branding Arthur’s forearm where he holds it.

Perfect is a fabrication, it is a standard to be upheld, it is expected.

Perfect is not something that knocks you so hard off your feet that you tear through the knees of your trousers, that catches you so unaware that you haven’t even realized you’ve fallen until you hit the floor.

Arthur knows this. He knows many things, and he knows this.

But.

Oh, but.

But he believes, for the first time in a long, long time—a startlingly, shockingly, quakingly long time—he believes tonight. He believes tonight had felt perfect.

Being nearly caught by Volkanon after assuming the head butler would have already been asleep, immediately after they’d stolen out of the castle with an assortment of documents even a visiting prince really shouldn’t have been privy to, which they’d filched from the castle basement and which had still been very much on Arthur’s person. Doug snatching his arm when he’d frozen stiff, quickly but discreetly dragging him away in the opposite direction. A near miss with Forte coming around the corner on patrol, Doug yanking Arthur back into the observatory stairwell just before the Dragon Knight could spot them.

Of course, it’s not like they’re fugitives. There would have been no reason for Forte to think anything amiss even if she had seen them, and as Doug himself has pointed out, it’s more suspicious to draw attention to the issue by pretending something obviously untrue. If they had just kept walking, no one would have stopped them from a pleasant if somewhat late night out strolling Selphia’s streets. Even Volkanon would have likely only had an exuberant greeting for them and asked how their night was going, none the wiser about what Arthur was concealing in his coat.

But had that mattered? Had it mattered that it had been unnecessary when Doug, face flushed with adrenaline, had started wheezing quiet giggles about the overreaction, had turned to Arthur, eyes bright, and said, “Race you to the top,” and taken off up the stairs before Arthur could stop him.

Had it mattered that they could have kept walking, when Arthur finally made it to the top (a bit more out of breath than he’d like to admit) and realized he couldn’t see Doug, and he’d wandered onto the deck apprehensively, halfway through quietly calling his name a second time when he’d been bodily tugged into an alcove he’d never once even noticed before. When he’d stumbled into Doug, who had been been right up against him, laugher still singing in his eyes and the crinkles in his face, and Arthur hadn’t been able to help himself from laughing too.

It hadn’t mattered. It hadn’t been anything noteworthy at all, in fact, not any part of the whole thing.

And it had been—wonderful. Exciting. Thrilling for no reason in particular, not due to any real danger, not for any reason Arthur could think to give. It had just been…unreal. Perfect.

And Doug—Doug had been perfect.

No, not just that—Doug had made Arthur feel perfect, too. And that’s nothing anyone’s done in… Since…

Has anyone ever?

Has he ever felt such a perfect, whole sense of belonging, such a perfect reason to just be, to screw all the other noise and nonsense and not worry about everything else around him and just be, there, in the moment, with someone else by his side? The way Doug, without even trying, had done tonight?

At least, before Arthur went and ruined it.

Ah.

Right.

What does it matter, what does it matter, for Arthur to realize any of this now? Doug already left. He isn’t there to help Arthur back on his feet. He isn’t there to tell Arthur if he should keep running, or if he should stand and fight, or anything else.

How unbearable, to only realize how far and fast and deep he’d fallen after he’d already absolutely screwed up his best chance to do something about it, tonight.

Arthur rearranges himself carefully, mindful of his scraped knees. Out of habit, he pats the pocket of his coat containing the documents that had gotten him into this situation in the first place. They’re still there, safe and sound. He sits leaning back against the observatory railing and tips his head to gaze at the stars above him.

Arthur sighs. What Doug had said—that last part, at least—that had hurt. And the irony of saying it and then leaving himself? With a clearer head, Arthur can now say that was far worse.

And isn’t that just something. People say these sorts of things about him, have said them since he was a child, and he’s never paid them much mind. Sometimes they sting a little, he can’t help that, but never any worse than a prick of the finger. But tonight? But when Doug was the one saying it?

The worst part is, Arthur isn’t sure if he was wrong—about any of it. About Arthur running away, about them having already done all they could do for each other? About Arthur putting words in his mouth and expecting things from him that he’d never promised?

And had he truly meant it, that there was nothing between them? It hadn’t felt that way. The fire in Doug’s eyes hadn’t made it seem so. But how can it possibly be, that someone as direct and shameless at Doug would lie so unflinchingly, now, after all this time?

Unless��all of it had been a lie?

Arthur knows that could be true. Hell, maybe it’s even likely, given what little he knows about Doug and how very much he doesn’t.

He just…doesn’t believe it.

The stars twinkle on, laughing at him, and the moon watches, still and silent and calm. The clear, cloudless sky itself offers no great insights—though it does remind him that there is supposed to be a storm blowing in sometime in the next few days.

Calm before the storm, indeed.

It’s a little silly, but Arthur doesn’t have any energy left to combat silly, so he mutters, “If you were going to send a sign, wish you would’ve been a little more clear about that,” at the sky.

Predictably, he does not receive an answer.

[bi-demon-ium]

fic in review 2022

I wasn't tagged by anyone I just wanted to do this again and I don't see it making the rounds anymore :(

anyway i'm posting this a touch early as i might write more snippets when i wake up, and it'll still be december 31st, but. oh well

Total Number of Completed Stories: total (on this ao3 account): 112. total (on this ao3 account) written in 2022: 83! wow! and that's just like works (some are compilations) and on this account (there's at least five more elsewhere). oh wait i guess this isn't. completed. it's posted. hmmmmm okay but consider i am tired

sigh okay so completed on this account total: 96. completed on this account in 2022: 68. however, this is not counting that some of the works not counted here as they're "incomplete" on ao3 are actually like, multiple oneshots in one work. i'm not going to tally them though bc some of them are kinda incomplete-ish snippets while others are just straight up full oneshots and i don't want to comb through each and decide what counts 😩

Total Word Count: total on ao3 (for this account lol) is 342,779, but in 2022 that'd be 252,803.

Fandoms Written In: The Mysterious Benedict Society, The House in the Cerulean Sea, Death by Dying, and Instinct. (On the other account, also Shadowhunters and Star Trek 2009.)

Looking back did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expect:

Hm... well, both, kind of. Less in the sense that I had hoped I would complete whumptober--both of them, rip--but more in the sense that HOLY FUCK 83 works. MBS has really reawakened me. (75 of them are MBS lol.)

What’s your own favorite story of the year?:

hmmm uh. off the top of my head, probably one of these:

cain's lament

a hope in hell

rust

shades of green

The Babygirl Incident™

pretty things

Did you take any writing risks this year?:

i let myself believe i'd actually finish whumptober 😔

also i dedicated more to nicholas/milligan which i am slowly but surely acclimating you all to, like boiling a frog. at this point i even daresay the frog is cooked

and "minotaur" is darker than i usually go, so i'm tentatively thinking about some darker aus (don't worry, still no tragedy for me lol)

Do you have any fanfic goals for the New Year?:

FINISH MY WHUMPTOBER PROMPTS :( and also all the ask prompts i have in my inbox

Best story of the year:

hmm. this is kind of subjective. "cain's lament" is a good fix-it, "shades of green" seemed to have had a strong positive impact, which i'm glad of. we'll get to stats in the next question, i guess, for that angle. uhhh "warm" has impressive length? surprised i finished that tbh

Most popular story of the year:

This year, the most kudos went to "technicolor" with 125, the most comments goes to "warm" with 25 comment threads, the most hits (987) and bookmarks (18) for "The Babygirl Incident™". Most subscriptions is "pretty things" at 18. (My THITCS works by far did the best, ironically.)

(These all hold the same for like. most [x] ever on this account, except for the most kudos, which goes to "paralleled", an old King Falls AM work of mine, at 139.)

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

I think most of my snippets get brushed over a little since they're compiled on one work. Particularly my daemon au. Maybe also look at these: 1, 2, 3, 5, 2

Most fun story to write:

All of my crackfics probably! They're just so fun to write; very impulsive but hilarious. I'm making myself cackle, particularly with "The Gang's Past Illicit Affairs" "The Babygirl Incident™" and "kate and her bucket sitting in a tree, S-P-Y-I-N-G". Also "dear abby".

Story with the sexiest moment:

On this account? Nothing I've published. I did, however, write some very silly smut on my other account.

Sweetest story:

Okay, I've written a lot of sweet things and I don't know if I can choose one. So here's a brief list. I've taken off a few I've already mentioned to make it a little shorter.

These snippets: 9, 12, 18, 8, 9.

holy palmer's kiss

a cacophony so immense

number two; love guru

“Holy crap that’s wrong even for you!” story:

I don't know if that's the right way to put it, but. I'd say my two darkest stories were "coward" and "minotaur".

Hardest story to write:

Genuinely, I'm not sure? I'd guess either something not published or not finished, like the sequel to "petals", finishing "minotaur" and my sleep paralysis series, ch2 of "pretty things" i've really been struggling with. Of my completed works, though, I've genuinely no clue.

Biggest disappointment:

Probably still not finishing whumptober :(

Biggest surprise:

I wrote so much!!!! Oh my god!!!!! Holy fuck!!!! 88 works!!!!! and 75 of them MBS!!!!!

I Tag:

no pressure! @peachygos @mysteriouseggsbenedict @mvshortcut @sqenthusiast @ragecndybars @tothetrashwhereibelong @thehouseofgrey @finger-lickin-fuckboy and anyone else who wants to do it!!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

NO BECAUSE WHERE IS THE REBOOT??? My devastation when I heard that the anime wouldn’t continue because it was just manga promo…please….i need MORE

Wait a mint green would actually be so nice…lowk id love to see a sea foam green too or a light red…(this sounds odd but i do mean a light red and not pink LMAOO kinda like a slightly salmon leaning color? But not sendous LOL) also Aryus color being champagne gold always cracks me up because it really just looks like light brown

Bro fr has the entire App Store downloaded I just know it….like literally any game to kill time im sure he’s tried at least once

LMAOO I’ll be hyped up either way those two are also my favs…I love misadventures LMFAO sprinkling in a little crack with the story

SHSHS YEAH like just look at Raichi on BM he’s lucky he even got an offer…I think generally defenders just don’t stand out esp given the premise of bllk existing to create the best striker…having aiku on Ubers definitely helped spotlight the defensive characters though, probably since he’s already got an established rep as defender!

I’m very excited to see who hehe…also WOAH LMAOO Wait that is tiny by Mira standards (this is a crazy thing to say because usually I see 1k and go omfg that’s so long) your “shorter” fics slap too though I remember reading your Isagi work too and thinking it was so cute like I don’t even like Isagi but that was a good read

LMAOOO I wonder what inspo will strike you for those vague prompts…let’s see what tiktok throws you this time

I love being updated on your requests/inbox but OMG GAGAMARU??? You’ve truly become the side character safe haven omg watch just watch you’re gonna get another crazy side character next (imagine Nanase or kurona req next)

Ok pause wait 1) WHOS THE CENSORED NAME?? *** ****** the only thing I could think of was itoshi sae/rin but there’s no way right….unless I counted wrong or misread and this isn’t BLLK related 2) ok hear me out imagine Oliver aiku 5th wingman….maybe he along w yuki are the ones who finally make it work because aiku pushes y/n to do the boldest shit LMAO

- Karasu anon

I NEED MORE SHINAH omg in the early days of this blog it was ALWAYS shinah themed LMAOAAO it was so cute too!! i like the nagi theme more plus bllk is life but one day i’ll probably go back to the shinah theme just because he’s one of my og bfs HAHAH been in love w him for years 😩

YES it’s hilarious that aryu is supposedly to be all flashy and glam but he just looks beige which is such a typically boring color 😭 and yes like a peachy salmony color would be really fun!! and ooh seafoam that would be GORG i’m hoping the rest of the ng11 have cool color auras because so far sae and lorenzo have been cool (kaiser is boring but the blue aura + gold hair kinda eats so he gets a pass) okay wait also i just checked the wiki and LORENZO has black hair plus purple eyes?? so my prayers have been answered but not necessarily in the form of a character i actually want 😰

nagi’s just like me fr (downloads random puzzle games that come up in adds while he’s on different puzzle games, is obsessed with them for a week, and then never plays them again unless his wifi is out or something)

no like between chigiri and barou you cannot go wrong both are so good in opposite ways LMAOAO it’ll be fun regardless!! i’m excited although i have a couple of other things to clear out before i get to those

POOR RAICHI even like hiori and karasu are honestly pretty low!! given how much they’ve been contributing 😰 and yeah aiku having an established rep as a defender + lorenzo literally being a defensive ng11 definitely means ubers defense has way more of a chance to shine than on other teams imo!!

i participate in fic inflation 😩 like after you write a 41k word one shot everything is going to seem short compared to that (although this one is a bit of a special case hehe you’ll see i’m almost done with it!!) and YESS the isagi fics 🥹 pls i can’t even lie though i think my fav part of the isagi fics is the nagi chigiri bachira cameo at the end where they’re bribing nagi LMAOO

oh TRUST i will be scrolling tik tok before writing those two hehe saving them until the end because they have the highest likelihood of getting extensive 😭 nah but imagine i write a MASSIVE kiyora fic and literally nobody even knows who bro is i think that’ll be like a bllk fandom hall of fame moment or smth

YESS GAGAMARU basically i had posted before starting my rewatch that i wondered what character i’d end up liking this time (spoiler alert nagi) and someone commented hoping it was gagamaru because they wanted more content for him…so i was like well it wasn’t gagamaru BUT please req for him because i am happy to provide content!! LMAOAO omg kurona req idek what i’d write for it he gives me such little sibling vibes…trust i’d make it work though

unfortunately…it was in fact…rin itoshi…EEK i also saw a rlly good sae one and for a moment i was sososo scared i was going to become an itoshi lover but then like a savior my fyp blessed me with the most glorious scrumptious AMAZING barou edit followed by a magnificent nagi edit and THEN an otoya + aiku edit (to womanizer hehe i was lowkey giggling at it but out of humor as much as like “omg otoya 🤭”) so i think we are safe…at least i hope we are…

LMAOOO omg aiku and yukimiya team up??? i was thinking that for aiku to work as a problematic but funny bestie the only love interests that would make sense are barou, yukimiya, karasu, and sae because those are the only ones in his relative age group (shidou and kaiser too but kaiser is so far removed from aiku it wouldn’t make sense and shidou + aiku just doesn’t feel right in my mind)…wait actually okay you know what would be SO funny is like a shy reader who ends up working with otoya on a project or something and develops a fat crush on him so she goes to aiku for help in matching otoya’s 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 and it’s just him giving her the WORST advice meanwhile otoya also has a crush on her so he goes to karasu and yukimiya for help transforming into a lover boy 😭 so we end up with the reader being like a massive bitch and playing hard to get meanwhile otoya is bringing her flowers and curating playlists for her FJKSDNSKAK craziest possible dynamic

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry’s your soulmate and you don’t quite know that yet.

a/n: hello angels! i bring you soulmate!harry for my loveliest friend @sweetcreatureinthedark​ ‘s fic party! i chose the prompt “i’ve been in love with you, i’ll be in love with you.” i’ll be honest, this was tough to write, and somewhat was testing my writing abilities lol, but we made it through and I love it! so i hope you all do too! be kind and pls leave feedback and rb! :’)

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading and putting up with the mess lol love you always <3

WORD COUNT: 15.4k of friends to lovers, soulmates, physicaltherapist!harry x professor!yn

WARNINGS: slight angst, mentions of heart condition and flatlining

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘YOUR BEATING HEART’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

There was a saying that your Nonna had always said to you ever since you were a little girl, one that she made sure was ingrained into your mind for the rest of your life. 

‘Someone is destined to your mind, soul, and heart.’

Your mother, Kath, had told you that she had repeated those words ever since you were barely a year old. Nonna had said them so much that they could’ve practically been your first words. She would say that statement along with: ‘There is someone out there who already loves you, they’re just waiting for the right moment. That right moment will be up to the universe.’ 

The concept of soulmates has been around for thousands of years, and Nonna was such a sucker for it. Having met hers when she was sixteen years old, she made sure she taught her family the power of having a soulmate. She told Kath that if she wasn’t around for you, then Kath was supposed to teach you. Luckily, she’s still around though because that woman is one of the best you’ll ever know. 

When you were old enough to go to school, the teachers taught you about soulmates as well. When you turn thirteen, you’re able to find who your soulmate is because the power inside of you ignites, guiding you through the world to find your person. The universe was…weird like that; teaching children that they were going to find love at such a young age. You were taught that you were born to be loved by someone, and since you didn’t know any better, you listened. Nonna then started to explain the meaning and importance of soulmates. You were fascinated by it as she would explain it so enthusiastically to you while you listened with wide and curious eyes, making sure you didn’t miss a single word of what she said. 

As a shy ten-year-old, you couldn’t wait till you were older so you could find your soulmate, thinking it would be a fun adventure to see who you would click with. Nonna always said that ‘when you know, you know.’ 

Once you hit seventeen, however, you slowly believed less and less in the idea of a soulmate, and maybe that was because you were trying to force the feeling of trying to click with every person you met, but you lived through your adolescent years listening to your friends rave about how their soulmate was so perfect when yours hadn’t even shown up. They were all smiles while you were all frowns, a disappointed look was planted on your face when you would come to realize you were probably going to be alone and that the universe had forgotten about you. 

At eighteen, living in a world of soulmates, you believed you didn’t have one. 

That’s how you lived your life. 

When you went to college, the idea of being bound to another person was pushed to the back of your mind and you started to live your life more freely. You didn’t have the constant pressure in your head, telling you to find your one true love because you believed there wasn’t a ‘one true love.’ Your Nonna was a bit sad to see you live thinking that no one was out there to love you, but you realized that you didn’t want to sit and wait around for the perfect person, you wanted to venture out. 

Throughout college, you lived…a lot. You met new people, hooked up a bit, and didn’t have the recurring thought in your head about your particular soulmate.

That was until you met Eric. 

You met him your last year of college; and he was a year older than you. You met him on campus while he was meeting up with one of his old professors whose classroom you just happened to be in as he walked in, and you had immediately taken a liking to him. Besides the fact that you were sexually attracted to him, you didn’t think you would see him again until you met him again at a coffee shop that was not too far from campus. Eric invited you to take a seat with him, to which you said yes, and the rest was history. You and Eric were together for three years. In that time you were able to find a stable job, and you lived life together before he proposed to you. You thought life couldn’t get better than this--you had the greatest fiance and a job you didn’t hate, which was teaching Anatomy at a community college. 

Eric had made you believe in love. Soulmates, however? Not quite. Although at times it felt like he was your soulmate, that was just you trying to force something again. He was your soulmate without all of the characteristics a soulmate would have. 

Nonna had always told you that your eyes would sparkle while looking at them, so intently to where you couldn’t stop staring at them, thinking you two were the only ones in the room even with so many people around. That you would feel the spark igniting between you and your soulmate, causing your body to feel warm as the physical pull would bring you together. That your heart would beat ten times faster when you knew who that person was, and that the erratic beating wouldn't seem to stop because your soulmate’s heart was also beating at the same pace. 

When it came to Eric, you were able to look away and you were aware of your surroundings. When you were close to him, you didn’t feel that magnetic pull. When you looked at him, your heart seemed to calm down to where you didn’t feel like it was pounding through your chest. When you looked at him…you didn’t think he was your soulmate anymore. It’s crazy to even think that you thought he was before when you didn’t believe in the concept, but there was no attraction or pull towards him, and the timing could have been better. Actually, it could be so much better. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” you muttered into the mic as several gasps were heard from the family and friends that had gathered for the moment. 

You were dressed in a white, lace dress with a veil clipped onto the top of your head. It was your wedding day, and you were telling the supposed love of your life that you couldn’t marry him anymore because the thoughts about soulmates had barged inside of your mind during Eric’s vows, making you think thoughts that you wished you wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help it. Eric wasn’t your soulmate, and you damn well knew that you weren’t his either.

“W-What are you doing?” Eric whispered as he looked at you with wide eyes that told you not to embarrass him right here, right now. 

“I’m so sorry, Eric. I can’t marry you,” you said more clearly, not really telling him but also telling the crowd. 

The officiant of your wedding was your friend, Vic, and she looked at you with a shocked expression as she was just as speechless as everyone else. You knew they didn’t have to say or ask anything for you to know what they really wanted to say; they wanted to ask you what you were doing and what caused the sudden decision to not marry someone you’ve been with for four years. 

You could ask yourself the same question. Better yet, you would like to ask the universe why, especially on your wedding day, why they decided to suddenly pop inside your head, reminding you all of the bullshit people feel when they find their soulmate. 

Eric looked at you with worry, eyes slightly watering as if it was his worst nightmare come true. But you couldn’t carry on with this while neglecting the feeling that was inside your heart and mind. You couldn’t marry him as those thoughts were screaming at you, telling you that you made the wrong decision. Those said thoughts were telling you that your true soulmate was out there somewhere, physically and emotionally hurting because their soulmate decided to marry someone else. Your marriage would be ruined entirely if you went through with it. 

“I-I’m sorry…” is what you said to him with a pout on your face as he shook his head. You started heading down the aisle, ignoring the disappointed, sad, and angry looks your guests, especially his family, were giving you as you walked away from the altar that held the man you had given four years of your life to.

Once you reached the middle of the aisle, you started to jog. Picking up your dress so you wouldn't trip over it, you started to run as you couldn’t take the way the people were looking at you. 

Without glancing back, you headed over to the black Mercedes that waited for the newlyweds on the curb. Your driver, Jackson, had turned around in his seat, smiling but when he didn’t see the groom, his smile disappeared, also noticing that you had a disappointed look on your face as well. You found a clean napkin on the side of the door, asking him if he had a pen. 

“How long are you willing to drive?” You asked.

“I’ll take you to wherever you need me to,” he replied. You smiled gratefully, writing down the address that made you feel at home before handing him the napkin. 

He immediately started the car before typing in the address into his phone, driving away from the venue that had relied and counted on you being a wife today. 

And you didn’t regret your actions for one second. 

Soft, cold winds rushed through you as your skin pebbled from the sudden draft while standing against the white wooden railing of the balcony in the main bedroom. The calm waves immediately put you at ease from the anxiety that you were feeling hours prior, as harsh thoughts pushed their way through your head, telling yourself that you were a disappointment—that you disappointed everyone at the venue. 

The shakiness of your hands was replaced by the grasp of the railing as you looked out to the distant sunset. The day wasn’t all that sunny, since the sun was setting behind the clouds. There weren’t that many people out on the beach either, but you were glad because you needed to feel like you were the only person on this Earth. 

Coming to the beach house was the first thing that came to your mind when you decided to walk out. You knew that Eric wouldn’t find you here because he didn’t know about it, plus you just wanted to be alone without the constant questions that came from your ex-fiancé and your family. 

You felt bad, of course you did, and you didn’t know how to begin explaining to Eric that he was just someone that you couldn’t marry because the previously pushed thoughts had come back to your mind right as you stood at the altar. But right now, you were wallowing in fears that overtook your mind, thinking that everyone was going to absolutely hate you, which you think they did anyway once you walked out. 

Setting the wine glass down onto the railing, you looked down at the few pedestrians who walked by on the beach, getting in a last-minute venture before it got too dark. You smiled, thinking about the soulmate crap the universe had made you think about your entire life because any of these people could be the person you would love for your entire life, and you wouldn’t even know. 

You groaned to yourself, leaning your body away from the railing and putting your forehead on your forearms. You stayed there for a moment, thinking about how exhausted you were, especially since wine makes you tired, including the long day of getting ready all for nothing. 

When you stood back up, you had accidentally knocked your glass over the railing, the glass barely making a sound once it landed on the sand. 

“Fuck…” you looked over the railing to see where your glass landed before you headed down the stairs. Once you made it near the bottom, you hadn’t seen the last two steps because they were covered by sand, so you completely fell on your face into the sand, making you gasp loudly from the sudden fall.

Laughing hysterically at your fall as you felt the embarrassment on your cheeks, you rolled over onto your back as you closed your eyes and laughed until you cried. You covered your face as you began to sob, feeling truly sorry for yourself. You never meant for this to happen. You were supposed to be happy, and you were sure you ruined someone else’s happiness. 

After a few moments, you got up and brushed the sand off your clothes and face, and shook your hair so the excess sand could fall out. You sniffled, walking over to where your wine glass landed before your phone rang in your pocket. It was your mom calling, and you knew you couldn’t ignore it. You were planning to ignore everyone’s calls and texts before you went back to your hometown in just a few days, but it was your mother--you couldn’t hit decline, especially right now. 

“Hello?” You answered. 

“Hi, my lovely. You okay?” Kath was surprisingly calm because you thought she would’ve been freaking out. 

“Hi, Mom. Yeah, I’m good.” You walked back to the stairs and decided to sit on the bottom of the steps as you watched the calming ocean in front of you. 

“Can I ask where you are?” She asked hesitantly. 

“I’m at Papa’s house and I’m safe. No need to worry,” you reassured, smiling softly, even though she couldn’t see you. 

“Okay, good. I figured you were there. I understand you need space, but call me if you need anything, got it?” Kath was always a worrier, like every mom, but she seemed to worry about you a lot more than usual. 

“Got it. Love you, Mom.” 

“Love you too, my lovely. Oh, and,” she caught you before you were able to hang up. “I get why you did what you did, and I’m not mad. You’ll find them soon, okay?” Your eyes watered a bit, and you nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. You heard Kath blow a kiss through the phone before she hung up. You always loved how your mom was always able to understand you without you having to say anything at all. She was great like that, and you loved her dearly for it. 

Pressing decline to what felt like the hundredth call from your in-laws and friends in the last two weeks made you roll your eyes and want to turn your phone off completely. 

You knew that you had to call and text these people back eventually, but right now, you didn’t want to explain. You already had the anxiety from your actions weighing you down already, and these people would most likely scream over the phone as they demanded an explanation as to why you did what you did, and you really didn’t need that at the moment. 

All you wanted to do was go back to the beach house and sit on the balcony as you watched the ocean; all far away from your problems. 

You were unofficially a single woman, and you could look at all the men and women you wanted now that you were single. The nagging voice in your head was constantly bothering you, leaving you no room to think about what you might say to Eric when you meet up with him. He had stopped calling you a week ago, and since you weren’t entirely cruel, you shot him a text, saying that you were fine and that you’ll talk to him when you were ready because quite frankly, you needed to wrap your head around your thoughts. He was a sweetheart in that way, giving you space when you were the one to walk out on him and needed to explain things. You truly didn’t deserve him. 

Unlocking the door to Nonna’s house with your spare key, you found her sitting on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Nonna,” you greeted, and she perked her head towards the door. 

She softly smiled, getting up from the couch before she walked over to you. She didn’t greet you like she always did, which made you a little nervous because you thought she might be mad at you, but when her arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into a hug, you relaxed. 

“Hi, Chip.” Her nickname for you came out with a smile against your shoulder. She had started calling you ‘Chip’ ever since you were a toddler. You had always wanted a bag of chips to munch on, and the nickname seemed to stick because you were still the same. 

Nonna pulled back, guiding you to sit with her on the couch. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she asked as she pouted, giving you a look of concern. 

You smiled to ease her worry. “I’m doing okay. How are you?” You grabbed her hand from her lap to hold it, the gesture making her smile a bit. 

“Okay as well. Worried about you. Haven’t seen you since the wedding…” 

You huffed out. “Yeah, Nonna, I just wanted to say I’m sorry-” 

“Chip, what do you need to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was my wedding. I understand why you did that,” she reassured you. 

“You do?” You looked at her with a soft look. If there was anyone that you wanted approval or reassurance from, it was your Nonna. 

“Of course, I do. Look, I know I told you about soulmates ever since you were younger, and throughout the years, it pained me to see you think that you didn’t have one. So, I didn’t push the idea onto you anymore. I wanted you to live your life, and when you met Eric, I thought he was nice, but I just knew he wasn’t the one,” she explained, making your brows raise. 

“You knew?” Nonna nodded. “H-How?” 

“Because you would’ve told me right away when you met him. You would’ve told me that you felt everything that I had told you for years, and suddenly when you met Eric, you didn’t talk about those things. I knew on the outside, you made it seem like you weren’t into the idea of soulmates, and that may be the case, but I know deep down that you still care about it. You want someone to cherish you and love you as we all do. You were excited up until you were seventeen because your friends had found theirs already, and all of a sudden you didn’t care. I know you’re still looking, but just wait a little, yeah?” Nonna always had a way with her wisdom, and she had that kind of intuition that made you feel a little less worried. The words that came out of your mouth weren’t much of a shock to you because Nonna was smart like that. You hadn’t realized all of the things she had picked up throughout your relationship with Eric, but you were grateful that she caught those things because it made it easier to talk to her. 

“You know way too much, stop,” you joked, making her laugh. You laid your head on her shoulder, embracing the moment with her as you thought about how grateful you are for her. She was truly the closest person to you, and you didn’t know what you would do without her. Suddenly, the doorbell rang as she got up from the couch. “Expecting someone?” 

“Must be my personal delivery boy,” she raised her brows teasingly, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. She had always mentioned someone dropping by to drop some things off from her next-door neighbor, and yet, you hadn’t met this neighbor of hers. Nonna opened the door and the person behind it wasn’t someone you were expecting. “Oh, thank you, dear!” She grabbed the set of glass bowls. “Would you like to come in?” 

The man behind the door said, “I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“No, please! Come and meet my granddaughter.” Nonna opened the door wider, so her guest could look into her house, and that was when he saw you, standing in the entryway with your mouth slightly open. “Harry, this is my lovely granddaughter--the one I’ve been telling you about.”

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he said breathlessly. His gaze was trained right on you, and Nonna looked between you two as the both of you looked at one another with shock. 

“Hi, uh, Y/N,” you shook his hand as you were quite speechless. He was quite attractive and looked young. He had short, curly brown hair that was pushed back with a red patterned bandana. He wore a black Nike jacket, shorts, and running shoes. 

There was a moment of silence between you two as the both of you looked at each other. His expression was soft as his eyes seemed to burn into you, making you captivated by his stare. It felt like time had stopped for a moment as you two looked into each other’s eyes, trying to map out what the intent stare really meant. Could it be? Before you allowed yourself to feel the imaginative spark, you broke out of your trance, placing your head down as you thought for a moment. He cleared his throat to relieve the silence as he scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere other than you. 

“I’m just going to put these away,” Nonna broke the silence as she smirked to herself while leaving the room and to the kitchen before you let out a breath. 

Harry smiled amusingly, chuckling a tad bit. His dimples popped out when he did so and you thought he was the cutest thing to ever walk the Earth. You walked closer to him so you were in the spot Nonna was prior as Harry was still standing on the doorstep. 

“Hi,” you simply greeted. 

Harry’s smile widened. “Hello.” 

“So, uh, how do you know Nonna again?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as you placed your hand on the doorknob on the other side, leaning against the door. 

“My mum lives next door actually. She and Tallie are quite close friends, so I would see your Nonna every time I would visit Mum, and Mum would have me bring things over sometimes—whatever the two talked about,” he explained, and you nodded understandingly, thinking that it was truly a small world. 

“How long has your mom lived there?” You wondered. 

“About a year and a half now,” he answered. Your brows furrowed as you were genuinely confused about why you haven’t met Harry before because you would always visit Nonna. He looked at you oddly as well, wondering the same thing. 

He’s known Tallie ever since Anne moved next door, and also found it strange that he’s never met you before. Tallie had mentioned her daughter, which was your mother, and has met Kath before--many times. She also mentioned you briefly, but he’s never seen any pictures of you, so he wouldn’t have recognized you if he met you. 

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” You suddenly asked, and Harry nodded his head. Before he could say anything more, Nonna walked into the room. 

“You kids doing okay?” She asked, and you smiled at her, nodding your head. “Do you two want to make some bread?” She suggested enthusiastically. You and Harry both chuckled, looking at one another briefly before you both said yes. Nonna clapped her hands, urging you two to follow her into the kitchen. “The dough has been resting for an hour already, so if you two could do me a favor and knead it for me, that would be great.” 

After the three of you washed your hands, Nonna instructed you on how she would like her bread to be shaped like breadsticks. You and Harry complied as she was making the butter. 

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” He sparked up a conversation as he kneaded the dough; you were doing the same. 

“I teach at the college about an hour away. Anatomy and Physiology professor,” you said humbly, and his brows raised. 

“You sure know a lot about the body then…” he suddenly pointed out, eyes widening immediately as he stopped kneading. “That was really weird, I’m sorry.” You laughed loudly as he cringed at himself. “I was just trying to state the obvious since you studied anatomy, and it went smoother in my head.” His cheeks turned into a pink tint color as he scratched his neck--something that you already noticed he did when he felt nervous or awkward--feeling the embarrassment rush through him. 

You chuckled, looking up from the dough. “No worries. You’re…cute.” Harry didn’t say anything but shyly smile. 

“What about you?” 

“Besides living in general,” he started, and you laughed. “I’m a physical therapist. I work at the hospital downtown.” 

“Ah, interesting. So, you would know a lot about the body too then, huh?” You teased, placing his words in your mouth. 

Harry genuinely laughed loudly, filling the kitchen with his sounds. “Perhaps I do. That was a good one,” he said once he calmed down from his laughter. You beamed at him before you studied him a bit, trying not to get caught. 

You were so caught up in how focused he looked while kneading the dough, and the way his lips curled in as he rolled it between his hands. His hands were naked from the rings that you had seen prior before he took them off for this task, but the way his hands were built and what they could do had you limitlessly daydreaming for what seemed like forever. They looked strong, but they were pretty. The orange nail polish contrasted between the bulging veins in his hands, leaving a very fine line between it all. 

If you looked any longer, you would be drooling at the thought of this man’s hands, but luckily, Nonna tapped you and by the look on her face, she had caught you eyeing her delivery boy. “Yes, Nonna?” 

“Might wanna speed up the process, yeah?” She suggested, with her voice in a teasing manner. All you did was nod as you huffed out a chuckle before proceeding. 

After a bit more conversation with Harry, the dough was finally going into the oven, leaving an excited Nonna while Harry was placing the tray onto the rack. 

“Tallie, I would hate to not try the bread after it’s done, but I should probably get back to my Mum…” 

“Oh, go ahead, dear! I’m sorry to keep you for so long. I’ll be sure to bring some by when it’s done.” She reached up to hug him. “Be sure to tell Anne I said thank you for lending me the bowls, and thanks to you for delivering it.” 

“Always a pleasure. I’ll see you soon. Uh, Y/N,” he called out as you gave him your attention. “Walk me out?” You smiled, nodding your head. Harry said one last goodbye to Nonna before you followed him out of the house. 

“It was nice meeting you,” you told him, walking onto the sidewalk. You two were walking slowly since Anne’s house was right next door, and it seemed like you two wanted more time with one another even though it wasn’t said out loud. It was like you two already knew. 

“You as well,” he said honestly. You were standing right in front of you in Anne’s driveway, not quite wanting to leave just yet. 

Your heart started racing uncontrollably fast as you looked up at him. His green eyes still shined bright in the gloomy sky that looked like it was about to downpour any second, but they had caught your eye immediately, and you were completely lost in them. You weren’t able to look away and think how alluring his trance was. Your mind had stopped itself from long jumping into the conclusion that was begging you to finish the story, so you pulled your stare away instantly. 

“Uh, well. I’ll see you soon probably?” You asked, backing away from him. Harry slightly frowned but made sure not to make it obvious. 

“Yeah, you will,” he nodded, stepping back as he offered a friendly smile. 

“Bye, Harry,” you waved at him before you turned around and walked away. 

Harry walked into Anne’s home and straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm down, heart beating outstandingly out of his chest that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. When Harry walked into Tallie’s home, his heart was beating ten times faster ever since he saw you. He simply couldn’t stop staring at you, and the only way he stopped was when you had broken the stare. He definitely felt the spark there, and he wondered if you did too. He sure hoped so because he had never felt that strong of a feeling inside of him with anyone else. 

Anne walked into the kitchen once she heard the commotion from upstairs, and saw her son leaning against the counter, head down and eyes closed, and that’s when she began to worry. 

“Harry? Love, are you okay?” She ran to his side, placing her hand on his arm. Harry continued to take deep breaths, increasing Anne’s concern. “Answer me, please. You’re scaring me.” The sound of her voice was breaking Harry’s heart as he never wanted his mother to be concerned or scared, but naturally, as a mom, it was her job to be. 

“Mum, it’s her. It’s really her,” he breathed out a laugh as his voice was strained from the lack of breath he had. 

“What?” 

“Her name’s Y/N. She’s Tallie’s granddaughter. My soulmate.” His eyes watered that was quickly followed by slight tears that streamed down his face, feeling so overwhelmed by the joy that overtook him. 

“She’s here, huh?” Anne had tears in her eyes as she felt extremely happy for her son. All the heartbreaks and search for his soulmate had ended once he met you, knowing that it was going to change his life forever. Harry nodded, brushing the tears away from his face. 

All the signs were there; the gleaming stare, the spark that shocked him, the magnetic pull between you two, his heart rate rising, and he felt like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. That’s when he knew. 

You were his soulmate. 

The rain had poured down quite heavily as Harry ran inside the apartment complex with his small umbrella that had barely kept him dry. 

Shaking the excess water on his umbrella and wiping his shoes onto the floor mat, he rushed towards the open elevator before it closed because it always took a while to land in the lobby. 

“Hold the doors, please!” He called out, quickly running his fastest while trying not to slip. A hand was seen between the doors as the doors reopened. Harry got into the elevator, taking a deep breath. 

“Harry?” He looked back at the other person who was in the elevator, and you were softly smiling at him as you took off your hood. You were wearing a burnt orange raincoat that he thought looked absolutely adorable on you, a university sweater underneath, black pants, along with black leather boots. Your eyes lit up at the presence of him, making him smile widely, feeling the attraction from you once again. 

“H-Hi,” he stumbled over his words, to which he mentally slapped himself. He cleared his throat, “How are you?” I miss you, he wanted to say. It had been about two weeks since he last saw you at Tallie’s house, and considering you were his soulmate, that seemed like a very long time. There was no doubt that Harry had been on your mind since you met him. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you overthink every possible thing he could mean to you. It was crazy to think that he wouldn’t leave your brain considering you had just met him. You concluded that Harry was just an attractive man, the first man you’ve ever looked at that way since Eric. 

“Good!” You said too overly excited, making Harry chuckle at your chirpy voice. You fake coughed, making your voice a tad bit lower. “Good, yeah. What about you?” 

“Doing great!” The elevator doors open, and Harry stepped aside, letting you in first before he followed. “Do you live here?” 

“Yeah, I do. This is me,” you stopped walking and stood in front of apartment 425 as you fiddled with your keys, nervously. You’ve been living here ever since you graduated college, and you didn’t fully move in with Eric because you planned to move in with him after you two got married, so luckily, you didn’t get rid of this place. “Do you also live here or are you visiting someone?” 

“I live here too. I’m actually on the floor above yours, like directly above.” Harry realized that he didn’t even press the button to his floor in the elevator. 

“525?” You asked as your brows furrowed. Harry nodded, giving you a small smile. “No way! Guess we’re neighbors…in a way?” You chuckled, and Harry grinned. 

“Guess we are,” he slightly giggled. 

“Uh, did you want to come in?” You asked. Harry’s eyes widened a bit, surprised by your offer, and you saw how shocked he was. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. It’s raining and thought it’d be nice to have some company.” 

“I’d love to. Thank you,” he responded, nodding his head. You smiled as you proceeded to unlock the door, stepping inside as Harry followed behind you. 

The layout of your apartment was the same as his since he was on the same side and right above you, but there was something about your apartment that felt like…home to him. He thought it had to do with the fact that it’s your space and you were in it because no one’s home felt like this besides yours. You had a few small potted plants along the windowsill along with a large one in the corner. Right next to the plant was a small wooden table with your red record player on top of it. A mustard yellow velvet couch was pushed against the wall facing the TV that rested on a white shelf bookcase that held many books and vinyl records in the cubbies along with random knick-knacks on the surface. A wooden round coffee table was placed in the middle with a vanilla candle on top of a few fashion magazines. Underneath the table was a white rug that looked warm to dig his feet in on a cold day. Three concert posters that were framed were hung on the wall, and he knew you were his soulmate because the three bands that you had on your wall were his absolute favorite; Fleetwood Mac, Queen, and The Beatles. 

His heart fluttered as he looked around, feeling like this was a part of you that he finally knew now. This part of you felt like home to him as he was immediately washed over with the feeling of comfort right when he stepped into your apartment. He felt so welcomed that it was going to be difficult for him to leave your space. 

“Make yourself at home.” Definitely home, he thought. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” You asked, taking out a saucepan from the cupboards. 

“I would love some,” he smiled, sitting on the couch where he could see you pour the milk into the pot. After a few moments, he saw you rush back into the living area. 

“Sorry, let me put some music on.” You kneeled on the hardwood floors to look at your collection before you turned your head back to him. “Any requests?” 

“Any Christmas song would be lovely and very fitting,” he requested. It was the beginning of December, and Harry was in the holiday mood. Plus, you were preparing hot chocolate, so it is more than appropriate. 

You smiled, nodding your head as you ran your fingers along your selection before pulling one out. Harry noticed the cover art as you pulled the record out.  Ultimate Christmas by Frank Sinatra played on the record player, filling the room with melodious tunes. You walked back to the kitchen before flashing him a smile. He sat on the couch and soaked in the music as he heard humming from the kitchen, and he grinned. Harry felt a warm feeling in his chest as he saw you stir in the hot cocoa into the hot milk as you hummed White Christmas. This moment right here and right now was something he wanted to experience every single day--where you would make hot cocoa as he would watch you with sparkling eyes, thinking how Frank Sinatra’s voice fitted so well with the holiday vibe. 

You came back with two red mugs with a bright smile on your face. “Do you mind placing the coasters on the table?” Your eyes pointed at the coasters underneath the candle. Harry nodded and placed two glass coasters onto the table, and he took a good look at both of them. One of the coasters stated ‘Be Kind’ in pink, and the other printed ‘Love Wins’ in multiple colors. He smiled, knowing the smallest things in your apartment was making him fall for you even more. 

“Hope you like it. I also should’ve asked what you liked with your hot chocolate but I just assumed you liked the same thing as me,” you chuckled nervously. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, but you think it had to do with the fact that another man was in your apartment that wasn’t Eric. 

Harry looked down at his hot chocolate. There were several marshmallows in the hot drink and a scoop of whipped cream with chocolate shavings to complete the drink. He smiled to himself as he took a sip, covering up his flustered demeanor. 

“It’s exactly what I wanted. I drink mine the same way,” he replied, and you smirked. 

“Glad I know a man with great taste,” you teasingly winked at him, and Harry nearly melted in his seat, and it for sure wasn’t from the hot cocoa because he wanted to reply with ‘More like your soulmate.’ He wanted to know what you were thinking in that beautiful head of yours. 

He wanted to know if you felt the same things he does. Did your heart beat uncontrollably fast every time he looked at you? Did you get sucked into a different dimension every time you looked at him? Did you have the urge to move closer to him, closing the gap between you two? Because Harry felt all those things with the simple act of you sitting next to him, and he really wanted to know if you felt the same way. 

You crossed your arms as the chilly weather rushed through you. “To be honest, I’m quite shocked that we live in the same building. I wasn’t planning on going back to Nonna’s until the end of the month, so I didn’t expect to see you.” 

“So, you were thinking about me?” He raised his brows teasingly.

“And if I was?” You decided to tease back but came out more like flirting. 

Harry paused for a moment, drinking his hot drink as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Then…I would say I was thinking about you too.” You nodded slightly, quickly grabbing your drink as you took a sip from it, hiding away your blush behind the mug. “What’s it like being a teacher? Can’t imagine standing in front of everyone and practically perform, I guess.” 

You breathed out a laugh, thinking the opposite. He had the look of a rockstar, and his name sounded badass. 

“It’s great. I try being their friend rather than a teacher because I feel like if they’re comfortable with me, they’ll retain and understand the material better. I learned that if you’re comfortable with someone, you’ll listen to them, so that’s what I did. And most of them are doing exceptionally well. Some of my colleagues are always surprised with how many students I get during office hours because I encourage using office hours and my email, so I’m quite busy,” you explained humbly. Harry admired your hard work and dedication, and he already knew you were a great professor just by what you told him. 

“So, what made you want to become an anatomy professor?” Harry changed the subject, feeling a bit flustered himself. 

“I was undecided with my major in college until I had to take a few science classes. One of them was anatomy, and I just fell in love with it. I really enjoyed learning it, and just fell in love with the subject,” you explained. 

“The professor part?” 

“My anatomy professor was the best. She made teaching look so fun and enjoyable. Plus, I’ve heard one too many stories about students having teachers who weren’t compassionate or sympathetic, and I didn’t like that at all. So, I wanted to be one of those teachers who made sure students learned and have a professor who was understanding,” you said humbly. 

“That’s very sweet of you. Unfortunately, I’ve had those professors who were pretty tough and not so compassionate.” You pouted. You always hated hearing or reading tweets when students would type out an email and express what they were currently going through to their professor, only for their professor to lack compassion and support to students who were trying to do their best. 

That’s why you wanted to become an educator. You wanted to make learning fun for your students and have them enjoy going to class rather than dreading it and being nervous to walk in. 

“What about you? What made you want to become a physical therapist?” You asked. 

Harry set his mug down onto the coaster. “The same as you. Something about bones and the muscles fascinated me and how they worked. I grew up loving sports, so that helped a bit, but wanting to help people recover properly was a main goal as well.” 

“You’re kind like that; someone who wants to help out others,” you complimented, and Harry blushed. 

“Thank you. It also has to do with the fact that one of my friends in secondary school, Max. He got injured pretty badly. He played football, or soccer, and he tore his ACL, which you probably know already, but it takes about six to twelve months to recover from that—physically and mentally. He loved the sport like no other, and couldn’t wait to get into it. His doctor cleared him when he was four months into therapy. Four. Doctor said he was looking good, so he cleared him earlier than usual.” Harry shook his head in disbelief as he told the story and you sat next to him, listening as your mouth was slightly open. “Like most of us, we listen to doctors more than we listen to our bodies. So, Max started to play again, and as expected, he hurt himself again…” he trailed off. 

You placed your hand on his knee, comforting him. You could tell that Max meant a lot to him, and by the way he was acting at the moment, he cared enough to dedicate his life towards wanting to be better to people who rely on him. 

“And he couldn’t play again. That was when I realized that I wanted to study the body. It was a long journey to get my doctorate, but I eventually got it at twenty-seven, and I’ve been working as a therapist for about a year and a half now; the same amount of time I’ve been here,” he said humbly. 

“That’s great, Harry. You must be so proud of yourself,” you offered him a smile. 

“I am, yeah. You must be too. Guess we both have a knack for changing some perspective, huh?” He softly smiled. 

“Yeah, we do.” 

Throughout the rest of the night, both of you got to know one another. You found out that you had a lot in common with him, such as your interests in the body (given both of your careers), movies and TV shows, books, and food; told each other childhood stories, and talked about your families. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t judge you, especially with what happened a month ago. 

It was nearing midnight as the time seemed to go by quicker than usual. After two more glasses of hot cocoa, Harry let out a yawn as he checked the time on his phone. 

“I should probably get going--let you rest up,” he said politely, grabbing his mug. 

You nodded, agreeing as you didn’t realize how late it was. “Okay. Oh, you could just leave it there; I’ll clean up.” Harry was too tired to debate, so he put the mug down before you walked him to the door. “I had a great time. Thank you for inviting me in and giving me hot chocolate.” 

“Of course. I had a lovely time as well. Maybe…we should do it again sometime?” You suggested. Harry’s eyes gleamed as he slightly smirked; a tint of pink formed on his cheeks. 

“I would love that.” You said a soft ‘okay’ as you smiled. He looked at you for a moment, noticing your eyes sparkling in the dim light of your apartment as you stared up at him in such fondness, making his heart melt in every way possible. Harry cleared his throat as he was so caught up in your stare that almost hypnotized him. “Well, you know where I live, so come visit if you want or maybe I’ll see you on another elevator ride,” he playfully joked, earning a giggle from you. 

“Sleep well, Harry,” you told him as he walked out the door, away from the space that felt most comforting to him. 

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile, and your knees nearly melted at the sight of his gorgeousness. Your grip on the door handle tightened, holding you up from falling to the ground. 

You waited for him to turn the corner to head to the elevator before you closed your door. Placing your back flat against the door, you covered your face as a rush of giddiness hit you as your face began to warm up. That was the most fun you had in a while, even if it was just as simple as a long conversation. 

You thought about Harry as you cleaned up and got ready for bed. Thinking about how sweet and kind he was. You never had met anymore who was so polite and nice while looking like that. There was no denying that you found Harry attractive--anyone with eyes could see that, but there was something about his inner aura and personality that you found extremely alluring and intriguing. You wanted to uncover and unravel all of his traits. That was when you knew you were collectively fucked. 

As you went to bed, you dreamt of his green eyes and beautiful smile; drifting off to sleep, unaware that your heart was completing the gaps of Harry’s heartbeat. 

Two weeks had passed since your first hangout with Harry, and you two had been hanging out ever since. Throughout those two weeks, you’d seen him at Nonna’s three times. The first time was unexpected, when you pulled into her driveway, you saw Harry helping her walk. Nonna had a sprained ankle from missing a step when she was walking down the stairs, and luckily, Harry was a physical therapist. Seeing the sight made your heart warm. The other two times were planned and you two decided to drive to her home together. It was very domestic of you two, and the level of comfort was something you never experienced with someone you just met. Nonna was happy to see you two getting along so well, she obviously knew something you were yet to figure out. 

It was nice hanging out with him, you thought. He was a great and funny friend that could make you laugh for hours. But he was also someone you trusted that you could talk to about anything. It was  bizarre to think considering you’d only known him for a short amount of time. Harry was just so open-minded, exciting, and new. Plus, you didn’t have many friends that lived close to you, so Harry living upstairs was just a walk in the park. 

You were getting ready to have brunch with Harry and Anne. It was your first time meeting her, and you were a bit nervous if you were being honest. As Harry’s friend, you wanted Anne to like you, and you really hoped Nonna had talked you up a bit. 

A knock was heard on your front door, and you took a deep breath before answering. Harry was standing behind it, wearing a plain white t-shirt, pink corduroy pants, and a black coat. Something that took you by surprise was that he was wearing brown tortoise framed glasses that fit him so well and nearly made you melt. 

“Harry, you look very…nice.” Your breath hitched in your throat causing you to choke up a breath as he was completely breathless. 

The corner of his lips turned up. “Thank you, so do you.” You smiled. Shall we go?” You nodded and followed him out, locking your door. 

The restaurant Anne picked was not too far from your apartment complex—about 20 minutes. The entire drive to the restaurant, you and Harry sang your heart out to ABBA, pointing at each other as you both screamed out ‘You can dance, you can jive!’ 

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Anne greeted you with a hug, and your nerves slightly dropped as she welcomed you with a hug. “Harry’s told me so much about you!” 

Harry gave Anne a knowing look as a way to tell his mum ‘don’t tell her everything,’ and Anne gave him the same look saying ‘I won’t.’ 

“I can’t wait to get to know you. Our table is ready,” Anne said as she pulled away from you. You nodded your head in agreement as you all followed the hostess to your table. 

Talking to Anne was something so refreshing. She was so sweet and kind, and you immediately knew where Harry got his best traits from. She also knew how to crack a few jokes here and there, making you almost spit your mimosa out or choke on your food. 

Harry watched you two interact and his eyes watched with so much fondness. His mum and soulmate getting along was something he was so grateful for because he wouldn’t know what he would do if you two hated each other. The interaction was so natural between you two that he thought you were going to be the best of friends. 

“So, I hope this is not a personal question, but have you found your soulmate, sweetheart!” Anne suddenly asked, and Harry choked on his water, making him cough reluctantly as he struggled to breathe. Anne rose from her chair as you gently slapped his back a few times to help him out. Once he was okay from his cough attack, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Darling, are you okay?” She gave him a concerning look. 

Harry nodded, his face slightly red from the lack of air. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, yeah.” 

“You sure?” You asked. Your hand hadn’t left his back, and you could immediately feel the tingly feeling that spread throughout your arm like his touch shocked you throughout. Harry nodded again, reassuring you and Anne. You turned back to Anne, realizing that she had an unanswered question. “Uh, back to your question—no I haven’t found my soulmate.” 

“Really?” Her tone coming out surprising. 

You nodded. “Yeah. I thought I did, turns out he wasn’t the one.” Harry was eyeing you nervously as he sat beside you. He gulped, wanting to know everything. 

“I’m sure you’ll find them soon, sweetheart,” Anne reassured, and you gave her an appreciating smile. “Your Nonna seems quite keen on soulmates,” she pointed out. 

You nodded. “Yeah, she is. She started talking about soulmates since I was young. She found hers when she was sixteen. Her and Papa’s love was so special. Unfortunately, he passed away about five years ago you explained, and Anne frowned slightly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, love.” 

“It’s okay! Feel like he’s always somewhat around. He owned a beach house that he passed down to me, and I go there every month, but I never change the furniture or take anything down, so it very much feels like he’s still with me,” you smiled as you told them. 

“That’s lovely, sweetheart. I’m sure he is, and I’m sure he’s proud of you.” You softly smiled at Anne’s words, appreciative of them. You felt Harry’s hand on yours that was resting on the table, and you warmed up at his touch. Turning your head towards him, you flashed him a smile and he sent you a subtle and innocent wink, making your stomach turn into knots. Luckily, you were sitting because you would have surely fallen if you were standing. 

“Where’s your beach house located, by the way?” Harry asked. 

“Monterey.” You answered and you noticed Harry’s eyes widen, glancing towards Anne. “What?” 

“I actually have a house there.” Now, that was new news. 

“Really?” He nodded. 

“Yeah, it’s in Pebble Beach. Where’s yours?” 

“New Monterey.” Pebble Beach was about a fifteen-minute drive from where your beach house was at, on opposite ends of the coast. 

Something was interesting about the fact that Harry was on the other side of your beach house. You’d been to Pebble Beach many times, sometimes walking the hour walk there to get away. If you hadn’t met Harry at Nonna’s, would you have met him at the beach house? 

You shook off the thought, realizing that Anne had changed the subject, so you listened. 

Brunch went by, and you were parting ways with Anne. You promised you would visit her when you visited Nonna, to which she beamed and hugged you tightly. Harry and Anne hugged, and they said ‘I love you’ to each other. Your heart warmed at the mother and son duo, thinking they had the best dynamic. 

You and Harry drove back to the apartment complex in comfortable silence, all the way up to his apartment. You two would take turns sharing your apartments because they both made a great hang out spot. His place was your favorite, though. The first time you stepped in it, you felt an immediate calmness to the disarray of what your reality felt like. It was like you never wanted to leave his apartment, simply wanting to cuddle into his couch with a soft blanket over you. You could possibly stay there forever, you thought. 

Harry made you both a cup of hot chocolate as it was starting to become thing for you both. It was nice; having a thing with you. It made him feel involved and important in your life. 

“Do you want to have an honesty hour?” You asked once he set your mug onto the coaster before he took a seat right beside you. 

He raised his brows. “Were you not being honest with me before?” He teased, and you nudged his shoulder. 

“I’m serious,” you giggled, and it was music to his ears. 

“I am too, but yes we could always have an honest hour. Tell me something.” He curled his lips in, and you couldn’t help but look at his mouth before you quickly glanced back up to his eyes. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“Whatever you want to tell me. I’d be happy to listen,” he reassured. You decided you wanted to tell him what happened a month ago with the whole Eric situation. It was something you could open up to him about since he wasn’t at the wedding, so you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

You smiled softly. “It’s funny how we live in a world full of soulmates, huh?” You started. Harry’s breath hitched into his throat. He started to feel anxious right as you mentioned soulmates that led him to be speechless; he nodded instead. “Well, my Nonna has been telling me everything about soulmates ever since I was born. She constantly went on and on about it--always asking me if I’ve found mine ever since I turned thirteen. I was excited, y’know? She hyped it up so much that I couldn’t wait until I was older to find my soulmate.” Harry gulped, not saying anything. He felt a ‘but’ coming in, so he waited until you were finished. “I went through my teenage years with my friends talking about their soulmates that had found them when they were fifteen or sixteen. I was the only one alone. I don’t know why, but the universe must hate me.” 

“The universe does not hate you,” he disagreed, shaking his head at the hateful words as he slightly frowned. 

“No, it does. When I went to college, I stopped believing in the soulmate shit. I dated whoever I wanted without that pressure. But there was this one person that almost made me believe in soulmates…” you trailed off, and Harry took a deep breath. Maybe she does feel all those things for me? He thought. “His name’s Eric. I met him my last year of college…and we’re engaged--or were engaged.” Harry’s eyes widened as they slightly watered. His heart pounded through his chest as if he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

“Y-You were engaged?” He stuttered, holding back his tears. 

“Yeah. I said the universe hated me because I ran out and left him at the altar. When he was saying his vows, I thought of everything Nonna had told me. The heartbeat, the stare, the pull, everything. I didn’t feel that with him, and it was shit timing as well, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t feel the same way for me too,” you explained before taking another sip. 

“So, do you believe in it now?” He slipped in the question. 

“I mean…possibly. I know there’s someone out there for me--maybe. But I really pushed back the idea of my soulmate ever since I felt left out when I was a teenager, so I’m not entirely sure what the exact feeling you feel when you see your soulmate because I just pushed it out of my head and forgot about it.” Harry nodded understandingly. 

It made much more sense to him, and you answered all of his questions. He knew that you weren’t feeling all of those things with him. It definitely hurt him, but he’d hoped that those feelings would come around soon because he’d sat right in front of you, waiting for the right moment to tell you that he was yours. 

“Have you seen him since?” He carried on the conversation, wanting to know all the details and information that he could get. 

“Since the wedding?” Harry nodded, and you shook his head. “No, I haven’t. It’s been about a month since I saw him last. I’ve just been texting him to see if he’s doing okay because I don’t know where his head’s at, but he told me that he would call me when he’s ready to talk, which I have to respect and understand.” 

“A month?” 

Your brows raised slightly. “Hmm, yeah, a month.” Harry's heart began to beat faster, and he clasped his hands together to prevent them from shaking. “I feel bad, y’know? I feel like I’m now painted as this horrible person, but I know I am-” 

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Harry disagreed, shaking his head. “You’re pretty amazing.” Your eyes lightened up a bit. “I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks, and you’re possibly the sweetest person I’ve met. You’re funny, smart, and really fuckin’ kind. You made a decision that was going to affect your entire life. That doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person.” You didn’t say anything but nodded your head slightly with a small smile at his words. He didn’t need to hear anything from you to know that you were appreciative of his words. 

“I wanna know everything about you, H.” You changed the subject, not wanting to talk more about your failed relationship. 

His body turned warm at the sudden nickname. “Everything?” He raised his brows as he took a sip of his drink. He was a bit wary about your sudden want, but he knew that he could trust you. 

You nodded. “Tell me all your secrets,” you whispered. Your words came out seductive, which you didn’t mean to, but by the way he was looking at you, it seemed like your words had some effect on him. 

He curled his lips into his mouth as you pierced your eyes into his as his heart began to beat harder. He smirked a little, chuckling to himself at his reaction. 

“You're in for it, love. Have a lot to cover.” 

A blush formed onto your cheeks. “The floor’s yours.” He took a deep breath before he proceeding to tell you something very important to him. and he hoped he wouldn’t overwhelm you with this information. 

“When I moved here, a year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with Bradycardia Arrhythmia—my heart would beat slowly as you know. They put a pacemaker in after my second collapse. It was so sudden, and I have no idea where it came from, maybe smoking for an entire year when I was in uni, I’m not sure. But I moved here in August, so around that time, I collapsed. Mum rushed me to the hospital and they did a bunch of tests and diagnosed me, and now I have a pacemaker,” he explained calmly. 

The feeling in your chest was something you’ve never felt before. The heart tightened as he spoke every word, causing the pain to increase as your heart sank. Your eyes watered, not wanting them to fall because he didn’t need your pity. 

“Harry, a-are you okay now?” You asked, voice small. 

“Yeah, I think so. Uh, on Saturday at around eleven in the morning, two weeks before we met, I collapsed again. This time, I really couldn’t breathe. It genuinely felt like it was my last day on Earth. My lungs were closing in and my heart was slowing down. My mum was with me at my beach house, and I was lucky that she was there because she immediately called 911 and got me to the hospital.” You looked at him with fear in your eyes as you listened to the gut wrenching story. “I was gone for fifteen minutes, Y/N. Fifteen. It was some sort of miracle…” 

Then it suddenly hit you. 

It all made sense. 

Your heart suddenly opened up fully and the traces of doubt were left behind. Your mind started to piece together the reasons why you haven’t met your soulmate, and it was all right in front of you. The stories and journeys Harry had gone through had all added up. 

The beating organ in your chest had pounded so hard that you felt the beat through your ears, making it impossibly hard to hear, but your heart was fluttering uncontrollably that you couldn’t help but smile and blush. You could see it now—his stare. His eyes captivated yours as he looked so deeply into your eyes that you could stay lost in them forever and never worry about a thing. The magnetic pull and attraction towards him felt like you couldn’t hold back; that you wanted to continue being close to him as you inched closer to him. 

Your mind was coming up with different theories on why your soulmate was taking so long, but they all concluded to him. To Harry. 

It all made sense. 

The reason why it took so long for your soulmate to show was because Harry hadn’t moved here until a year and a half ago. He was still back in England getting his doctorate, and the separation between you two made it impossible to meet. Somehow your mind made up the conclusion that the only reason why you two met after Harry living here, in the same building, for a year and a half was because you were still with Eric; your time was spent on someone who wasn’t your soulmate. 

“Harry…” you whispered. 

His brows raised. “I’m okay now! Really, I am. I don’t think I’ll have any more collapses…” he said knowingly. His tone was like he knew something you didn’t, like he knew you were his soulmate. 

“Harry…” you repeated. 

“Yeah?” You reached forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your actions took him by surprise, but he immediately hugged you back, hurrying his face into your shoulder. 

You had instantly felt the warmth that he provided, not wanting to pull back. You took deep breaths, and you could physically feel Harry’s heart beating in sync with yours as you two sat in front of each other. 

“Why didn’t…you tell me?” You breathed out, eyes glossy as you pulled away from the hug. 

Harry noticed your change of emotion and he looked at you with a concerned face. He gently placed his hands on the sides of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as your tears spilled out. 

“Tell you what?” He asked, still clueless. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?” You questioned. 

Harry’s breath was caught in his throat. He didn’t know if you were angry or disappointed with him, but you didn’t show any sign of anger, so he slightly relaxed. Your face was filled with confusion, and he wanted to take that away quickly. 

“You know?” 

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, tears threatening to spill out. 

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I felt it immediately when I first met you, and I didn’t think you did yet. I should’ve told you…” he grabbed both of your hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand sweetly. 

Harry’s eyes watered. He didn’t know if you were happy that he was your soulmate because you haven’t said anything, so he anxiously kept kissing your hand. 

You inched forward, placing your forehead against his as both of your hands were in between you two. Your lips met with his hand before you pulled away. 

“I felt it. I felt it all when you told me your story and about your condition. It was like your heart opened up for me and my heart finally had the realization that you were right in front of me—this whole time.” You sniffled. Harry’s tears streamed down his face as the overwhelming feeling was present in his chest, making his heart pound through his chest. Your hearts were in sync with one another, so you placed your hand flat on his chest, feeling the beating organ that was giving you so much life. 

“I can’t believe this is happening…” he said in disbelief. 

“Harry…I should tell you that, uh, the first time you collapsed—when you were diagnosed with your condition, that was when Eric proposed to me. Your second collapse, a month ago, that was my wedding day. The time you collapsed was when I was at the altar. There were just so many thoughts running around in my head that I physically and mentally couldn’t be in front of my ex because I just knew he wanted the one for me,” you explained. 

Harry’s mind immediately clicked. “Then when you left the altar was when I was brought back to life…” he pieced together like a puzzle. His missing puzzle piece was you. Your eyes softened, smiling at him because at least you did some good in the last month. “You saved me.” 

“I can’t help but think that I was the one that caused all of this,” you poured, and he shook his head. 

“No, no. You didn’t. If you’re going to blame yourself for that, then I’m going to blame myself for getting together with other people back in England, causing you to not believe that you have a soulmate,” he challenged. You shook your head in disagreement. “Then we have nothing to blame ourselves for, okay? We’re here now.” 

You placed your forehead against his as you whispered,” Yeah, we are.” You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take in the events. You couldn’t believe that after knowing Harry for more than two weeks, he was your soulmate this entire time. 

Pulling away a bit, you looked at him as your eyes glimmered. The tips of your noses touched in the most delicate way as you looked at each other. The room was filled with so much clarity, light, and…love. You smiled softly as the corners of Harry’s lips turned up into a grin, dimples poking out. 

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, eyes looking down at your lips and back to your eyes. 

You nodded, your heart beating ten times faster. He moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before gently placing his hands on your cheeks as he moved forward to capture his lips with yours. His touch and lips ignited you as the sparks ran through your body, making you pull him closer. His lips were something you’d never felt before. They were soft, gentle, and loving as he moved in sync with you, meeting your tongue with his in such a passionate and deep way. 

You felt completely overwhelmed with happiness as you smiled into the kiss, tears rushing down your face as you knew the wait was finally over. He was here. 

Harry moved you on your back as he hovered over you, lips never disconnecting as it was something he wanted to do forever. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly grabbing onto his curls as you earned a moan against your mouth from him. Involuntarily bucking your hips against him, you felt him grow between your legs in his flared pants as he grinded against your leg. 

He pulled away from the kiss only to kiss your jaw and neck, nibbling and sucking your skin, leaving a decent hickey on your skin. Your hands raked his clothed back, and Harry felt the way your nails dragged against his shirt, making his excitement increase because he couldn’t wait to actually feel it against his skin, only if you’d let him. 

“C-Can I, uh,” he stumbled with his words. 

“Harry, do you think we could wait?” You asked, indicating sex. His eyes widened, immediately getting off of you. 

“Oh, yeah! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t be sorry. I just want to wait to do that with you,” you caressed his cheek. 

“Okay, that’s fair.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips to see if he wasn’t dreaming. 

The rest of the night was like this—you laid in his arms, stealing kisses from one another. He held you tightly, afraid that you would leave once he loosened his grip, but you were right where you needed to be. 

A week went by, and you were happier than ever. You were in complete bliss with Harry, and you never wanted that feeling to stop. It seemed like Nonna was happier than you because she’d been waiting for this moment for so long. She wanted to see you happy, even Harry, you being happy together just made her heart warm. 

You were just getting back home from doing some shopping when your phone rang. Assuming that it was your soulmate, you smiled as you searched for your phone through your purse. But what you didn’t expect was to see the contact that you have been waiting a month for. 

“Eric? Hi,” you said surprisingly. 

“Hey. Uh,” he chuckled. “This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I just wanted to call to see if you were free to talk.” 

Your eyes widened. “Yeah! I just got home. Do you want to swing by right now if you’re available?” 

“Yeah, that’d be great. The same apartment, right?” 

“The same one. I’ll see you soon,” you confirmed before you bid each other goodbye. 

You waited for Eric for about thirty minutes, distracting yourself by cleaning and tidying up your place as you constantly overthought what you were going to say to him. This was going to be the first real conversation you were going to have with him in a month, not to mention the first time you’re seeing him after you ran away and left him at the altar. 

There was a hard knock on your door, startling you. You took a deep breath before you answered it, revealing your ex-fiancé. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled, giving you a hug. He seemed happier and in a better mood than you’d expected. 

“Hi, how are you?” You invited him into your home. It still looked the same the last time he came over, which had been quite a while. 

“I’m doing good, you?”

“Good as well. Coffee?” You offered. 

“Please.” 

You made him a cup of coffee, remembering the way he liked it because of the amount of times you’d made it for him in the morning. Setting it on the coaster, you sat on the other end of the couch, facing him. There was a bit of silence between you two—both not knowing where to start the conversation, but you figured you needed to get everything out of your system, so you went first. 

“Eric, I’m really sorry for how I left things. I shouldn’t have done it the way I did, and I should’ve talked to you first before we even proceeded to the wedding, but all of a sudden, it clicked. When you were reading your vows, I was just thinking of all the things Nonna said to me, and I realized…you weren’t the one. You weren’t my soulmate,” you explained. Your shoulders relaxed, finally feeling like this was the first step before you got to live your life with Harry. 

“Hey,” he reached over to grab your hand. Now, you could say that you really don’t feel the same love as before. His touch wasn’t the same as Harry’s. Eric didn't give you the spark that crawled up your skin, only Harry did. “It’s totally okay. I mean that. I understand why you did that, and I’m glad you did because I knew you weren’t the one for me either, and it took me a while to realize that until…” he trailed. 

“Until?” You encouraged him to continue, but it clicked so quickly for you. “You met someone?” He smiled, nodded his head. “Holy shit! What?!” You exclaimed surprisingly. You were the furthest from mad, and you were actually really happy for him. 

“I did, yeah. She’s great, honestly. Her name is Mandy and I met her the night of our wedding,” he chuckled. “I went to a bar and met her there. And then I felt it. It’s the most exciting and exhilarating feeling in the world,” he excitedly said. 

“Isn’t it?” You raised your brows, and Eric furrowed his brows until he got what you meant. 

“Hold on…you…wait…you met yours didn’t you?” He speculated, and you laughed. 

“Yeah, I did. Two weeks after our wedding. Actually met him at Nonna’s. Turns out, they’ve known each other for a year and a half. Can you believe that?” 

“Actually, I can. Nonna Tallie knows everything. I’m pretty sure she knew that I wasn’t your soulmate too,” he said, laughing. You laughed along, deciding not to tell him that she actually did know. 

The rest of the night went on like this. You two caught up, and shared stories and memories that made you laugh when you looked back while pouring yourselves glasses on glasses of wine. You realized that you and Eric were much better as friends, and you’re glad that it didn’t end in a horrendous way because you really cherished and appreciated him. 

The night was getting late, and you two were giggling your tipsy hearts out as your eyes were trying theirs best to stay open. You realized you couldn’t fight over your exhausted and drunk self, so you decided to call it a night. 

“Uh, you could take the couch since it’s late and you can’t drive,” you offered. 

“Really? Thank you,” he smiled. You grabbed him an extra blanket and pillow, and bid him goodnight because you went to the restroom to do your skincare because you never forget to do your night routine no matter how drunk you are. 

You crashed onto your bed, closing your eyes as you let sleep and your dreams take over you, dreaming about the loveliest man just above you and how you couldn’t wait to see him again. 

When you wanted to see Harry again, you didn’t expect it to be the way you did. 

After a long eight hours of dreaming of him, you heard a loud knock on the door, causing you to jolt awake. Still groggy as you were sitting up in bed, you heard footsteps walking towards the door, and you had nearly forgotten Eric was still in your apartment and that he was going to answer the door. 

What you didn’t expect was to hear the familiar raspy and deep voice that said ‘Who the fuck are you?’ making you quickly get out of bed and heading towards the door. Eric was shirtless, clearly still sleepy, and Harry was standing on your doorstep with a bag of food in his hands. 

The picture looked bad and wrong. With you and Eric just getting out of separate beds, respectfully, and Eric not wearing a shirt, it really wasn’t what it looked like. 

“Harry-”

“A-Are you cheating on me?” Harry asked, not knowing if those were the right words. Sure, you were his soulmate, but he hadn’t made things official yet. 

“Hey, man-”

“I’m clearly not talking to you,” he interrupted Eric, giving him a stern look. 

You gently pulled his face down so he could look at you. “Listen to me, please?” He didn’t say anything, so you continued. “This is Eric, my ex. He came here to talk last night and we had a few glasses of wine and I let him crash on the couch, that’s all.” 

Harry nodded, but his face clearly said that he wasn’t convinced. You looked at him with a sad expression, feeling useless on what you could do to get him to believe you. 

“You know…” he started. His face looked disappointed, and you wished he flashed you his smile. “I found it odd that you didn’t know I was your soulmate when I first met you, and it hurt me, to be honest. It broke my heart. I waited patiently for you for my entire life, and I waited even more when I met you and you didn’t know that it was me. I get that if you’re still in love with him, I get it. You were together for years, almost forever. But this…” he gestured towards you two. “It looks bad and it hurts me more than ever.” 

With that, he walked away. Rushing towards the staircase, you ran after him, calling for him, but he ignored you. His long strides beat yours as he took two steps at a time, and you barely kept up with him, so you just let him be for now. You sat on the cemented stairs, placing your face in your hands as you cried. Your sobs echoed throughout the empty staircase, and your heart felt like it was ripping in half—Harry’s heart breaking just added to your pain as well. 

And just when you had gotten your soulmate, you felt like you lost him. 

A week had passed since you last saw Harry, and it was one of the longest, frustrating, and painful weeks you ever had to live through. 

The face Harry had given you was something you never wanted to see. The displeasurable look made your heart drop every time you thought about it, closing your eyes, it was the only thing you could see. 

He wasn’t talking to you, no matter how many times you knocked on his door and said sorry to him through the door that most likely came out muffled from the other side. Throughout the week, you tried your hardest not to get angry for being ignored as you refrained from telling him how unreasonable he was being. But you looked at things from his perspective, and you understood why he felt that certain anxiety of seeing Eric in your apartment…shirtless, might you add. 

It took you a while to figure out how that Harry was your soulmate, and you couldn’t imagine the doubt and discouraging feeling he had when you didn’t figure it out right away. You couldn’t imagine what he felt like when he first met you and felt everything indescribable. 

For what seemed like the millionth time this week, you walked into Nonna’s house, immediately feeling the warmth and comfort you felt every single time. But it wasn’t the kind of warmth you longed for from a certain someone. 

“Hey, Nonna,” you greeted once you entered, finding her on the couch, looking through her photo albums. 

“Hi, Chip. Come in and sit with me,” she patted the space next to her, and you gladly walked over, taking a seat, looking at the pictures of her and your grandfather when they were younger. 

“My soulmate. Miss you so much,” she said to the picture of the two of them smiling at the camera, touching Papa’s face. 

Nonna flipped through the album, telling you stories about every single picture. You loved hearing memories about your grandparents as they brought so much joy to you. Nonna’s stories were the last bit of hope you had in soulmates, and you made sure to never let it go. 

You saw Nonna take out a picture out of the slip, pointing at it as she told you another story. “This was me and your Papa when we went to the beach. We were with some friends, and he told me he was going to marry me. This wasn’t where he proposed, but this was when I heard it for the first time. I was surprised, but so in love.” She smiled at the photo of her and her soulmate. Nonna handed you the picture so you could get a better look. 

In the picture, they were both sitting in the sand and she was smiling at the camera while Papa was holding her waist, looking at her with so much love. They were such a beautiful couple and quite the lookers. 

As you studied the photograph, you noticed a couple in the back who equally looked in love as Nonna and Papa were. But to what shocked you was that the couple in the back looked just like you and Harry. You softly gasped, bringing the picture closer to your eyes, making sure you weren’t just imagining things, but sure enough, the couple looked exactly like the two of you. 

“Nonna, look at this. This couple right here,” you pointed at the picture. 

She squinted before she gasped herself. “Well, that looks quite like you and my delivery boy.” 

“W-Why is that exactly us?” You stuttered, a bit spooked out.

Nonna grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. “Soulmates are destined for your future. What they didn’t tell you, or what I didn’t tell you was that, before you’re born or even conceived, the universe already plans for your soulmate because they’re quick like that. They have this stronghold that they can’t help but put together two people who are made for each other, even if they’re not even on this earth yet. In your case, the universe put you and Harry together in your past lives, way before you both were born. You and Harry were made for each other. Don’t let him go, ever.” 

Without even realizing, you felt tears fall from your eyes as she explained. Your heart felt like it was exploding with so much love. 

You needed him. You needed the air he provided. The light in your darkest days. The love that fulfilled your heart. 

You handed Nonna the picture back, but she waved you off. “Keep it. Go get him, yeah?” 

Kissing her cheek in gratefulness, you sniffled as you headed to your home. 

You found yourself exactly where you needed to be, knocking on the dark green door with the number 525 in gold. 

“Harry, please open the door,” you called out from outside. A frown settled upon your face as you continued to knock. The thought of Harry being on the other side of the door and ignoring you, made your heart ache. 

“Can't do that when I’m out here.” You turned your head to see Harry fiddling with his keys with a bag of groceries in his other hand. 

You smiled softly, rushing towards him before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself against him. “Missed you so much.” Your heart warmed when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, and you smiled into his shoulder. “Can we talk? Please?” You asked once you pulled away, looking at him with pleading eyes. And who was he to say no to that?

“Let’s go inside.” He walked past you, opening the door to let you in. You missed the homey feeling, and one week was too long without stepping foot into his place. He offered you a drink, but you declined, and he joined you on his sofa. 

There was an unfamiliar silence where you didn’t know if you should speak or let the silence take over you until the tension finally breaks. Harry wasn’t speaking either as he was waiting for you to speak since you were the one who almost knocked down his door with your fist with the constant knocking. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. This week has been brutal and I never want to go without you ever again. I looked at things from your perspective, and yeah, I would be frustrated and disappointed and hurt at me too. I couldn’t imagine what you were going through when you finally found me and I didn’t even know you were right in front of me. And I just want to say I’m sorry. Eric and I are over, and I don’t love him anymore. He’s already found his soulmate, and I have you…at least I think I still have you…” you said all in one breath, and your mind had gone into a spiral because you really didn’t know if you screwed things up. 

Harry breathed out a chuckle, smiling to himself as he looked down at his lap. You knew you hadn’t convinced him enough just by the way he’s silent, probably debating with himself in his head if he should believe you. So, you took out the picture Nonna had shown you from your purse, hesitantly giving it to him. 

He grabbed the picture and looked at him before he asked, “Who’s this?” 

“That’s my Nonna and Papa. Think they were, like, twenty here. But that’s besides the point…look at the couple in the back.” Harry squinted, observing the couple behind Nonna and Papa. The couple were facing the ocean; the woman was sitting in front of the man as his arms were warmed around her body. They were looking at one another, smiling brightly when the world was right in front of them. But their worlds were right in their arms. 

You noticed Harry’s eyes widen, looking at the couple again just as you did to make sure he’s not just hallucinating. He turned back to you, speechless, and you nodded. 

“That’s us in our past life. Nonna told me that the universe puts couples together even if they’re not born yet. Our souls were born to the stars and the moon. We were destined to be together decades ago, and we are now,” you hesitantly grabbed his hand, and you’re grateful that he didn’t pull away. His touch was on fire that the spark ignited into something so relieving. You looked at him so intently, and you couldn’t pull away. No matter how disappointed he was in you, there was still that sparkle when he looked at you. “Harry, I’m sorry if I made you think that I wasn’t in love with you. There is nothing more in the world than you, and you’re all I want. We’re made for each other, baby. I’ve been in love with you, I’ll be in love with you. Forever.” 

Silent tears streamed down Harry’s face as he curled his lips in. His heart was beating at a normal pace, only because it was now filled with the love and warmth that he’s asked for, and it all came from you. You filled that hole in his heart that’s been waiting to be sealed, and now you vowed to take care of it, and love and cherish it. 

Harry shifted closer to you and you smiled through your tears. He delicately touched your cheek like you were fragile glass, and you soaked in his touch that made your cheeks warm. You turned your head to kiss his palm as he cradled your face. He brought his face closer to yours and kissed the tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours. You smiled to yourself; you thought the gesture was sweet and you missed his touch and lips so much that it had made your heart physically ache. 

“I’m gonna make you happy, baby, I promise.” 

He nodded as his heart forgave you. “And I’ll do the same. Forever.” Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he spoke so softly, and his voice was deeper and raspier. “I was overreacting the last time--I’m sorry. I just closed myself off and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. Your feelings are valid. Let’s talk about it next time, okay?” You softly suggested, and he offered you a small smile of acceptance. 

“I’m gonna love you forever,” he said.

“You better,” you teased, smirking slightly as he chuckled. 

The tip of your noses touches as you closed your eyes before Harry leaned in and connected your lips together. The lips that were molding with yours had taken you back years, and it was like you had been kissing his lips for the entirety of your life, along with your beating heart that was beating for him all along. 

pls let me know your thoughts and feelings on this! thank you for reading <3

[puppypeter]

Everyone that follows me knows I tend to see prompts in every single thing around me and online so I thought I'd put together all the articles/pics/tweets/videos I've saved that made me go 'Imagine that but Stucky'

Dog Who Works At Laundromat Can't Stop Taking Naps On All The Machines

I don't know why I have a thing for laudromats aus but imagine store owner Steve with his big doggo and Bucky trying to do his wash but feeling like someone is staring at him...

Cap!Steve/Modern!Bucky au. Steve not really having dated before and being a little bit over the top (or what others would consider a bit too much) when it comes to trying to impress his date. But Bucky just loves him already. He can see it's all coming from the heart, that Steve is a giant awkward softie who somehow thinks he needs to try so hard to impress him. (Yes, we know that's not how Steve usually is but some of us like to read AUs with big dumb blushy virgin idiot Steve... leave us alone!! ahah). Also those trays are dope!

The hot veterinarian steve au!! For more ideas just follow the guy in the picture @andresantosvet on instagram (x)

vs Bucky as a veterinarian! 🥺 (video here)

Enemies to lovers neighbours AU! This is totally grumpy Bucky's sign who has had enough of Steve very early and very varied workouts (and of all his moaning which he definitely... doesn't.. like....)

I don't even need to explain this one, do I? We all know who that is. I love the idea of big beefy steve with a baby just because he'd be a giant carrying a tiny bundle but at the same time I can picture pre-serum steve doing this too. But who is bucky? Does he work at the gallery? Is he there with friends? Is he the author of a painting the baby just started crying at?

I think everyone has seen the video (x) but the kid takes his cap off for all the princesses. So single dad Steve taking his son to Disney World/land and he does this but to everyone, including the princes and one of them is Bucky! (or the other way around tbh, they both have the prince charming looks)

I guess this can be the sequel to the previous one? ahah this is too adorable!!

Bringing this one back because why not? Pre-serum Steve out with big sweet polite doggo Lulabelle meets big beefy Bucky who has this tiny ass but loud af bark at everything chihuahua. Somehow their dogs seem to be their opposites, but very similar to the other lol

Also:

- I'm not going to repost but every time I see the comics by Strange Planet I can picture Steve and Bucky in the 21st century (I know that's not how they talk and they're a lot smarter but I feel they would do something like that on purpose to mess with the others)

- Stucky's daughter being over the top or teacher/parent au based on this

- Maybe I've been watching too many episodes of Superstore (plus a bunch of retail related memes and tiktoks like this one) but would love a customr service stucky au. I think they'd be brutal, the sassiness that would come out at all the Karens...

PS: I don't actually expect anyone to write any of these (even when I call them prompts or say I would love to read). I just like sharing ideas I can see Stucky in so that y'all can suffer with me at the overload of cuteness. If anyone has ever any thoughts on these please share them with me, I love to see what other people see x character do in x situation! My inbox is always open!

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

(intimacy of "how did you know that?" "because I know you") for lukebobby if you could please?

this is, i believe, the oldest prompt i have from you in my inbox LOL but here we go!

when my brain gets bitter | luke x bobby or luke&bobby, 1.3k | warning for descriptions of gender dysphoria/mentions of unsafe binding | ao3 link in reblogs!

--

“Huh. Nice of you to stop by, Mercer.”

Luke stops and blinks. Bobby’s in the doorway, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe, arms crossed, and grinning at Luke in a way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. For a moment, Luke gets lost trying to analyse his expression.

Bobby seems to take this as Luke missing his joke. “Because of the pacing,” he explains, like this should be obvious.

“Right,” says Luke, too late, “because Alex—yeah, yep. Good one.” Now that he’s stopped walking from one end of the studio to the other, he feels the nervous, horrible energy starting to build inside his body again, finds himself bouncing on the balls of his feet, rubbing his hands over his arms even though they feel all strange under his fingers. “Is he, uh. Is he here, actually? Or Reggie? Or anyone? Obviously you’re here.” Luke laughs. It sounds awkward and stilted even to his own ears.

Unsurprisingly, Bobby doesn’t look reassured. “Uh, nope. Just me.” He pauses. “I mean. It is nine on a Thursday night. They’re probably home.”

Right, with their families. Luke tastes resentment, bitter and coppery like blood, in his mouth. Man, he wishes he could tear his own arms off, his body feels so wrong. And his ribs hurt when he breathes in.

Shit, his ribs hurt.

“Luke,” says Bobby, slightly too quiet, too careful. Luke misses the mocking tone from when Bobby had just arrived. “How long you been wearing it?”

For some reason, Bobby’s concern is always the hardest to bear. Alex is very upfront with his worry, nagging and pushing and insistent; Reggie hides his, manages to pass his worry off as other things. Bobby is the worst of both worlds – involved, and he cares, but he thinks he hides it when he doesn’t at all.

“It’s fine,” he says, in the least convincing voice ever, because he hadn’t grabbed extra clothes when he left his parents in a rush of hot-headed impulsivity, so now he's stuck in this stupid tight tank top and if he takes his binder off it’s going to be so fucking obvious and he’s already so upset with how the rest of him looks and feels that he can’t handle the idea.

Bobby’s looking at Luke now and just like his tone before, his gaze is too thoughtful, gentle, cautious. All the things Luke prefers not to see on Bobby.

“I’ll be right back,” Bobby says, and with that, he pushes himself up off the doorframe and heads back up the path to the house.

There’s a few silent minutes for Luke to work himself up.

This isn’t always how it feels. He knows that. A lot of days, now, he feels fine, even great. He bounces around in his sleeveless shirts with his short, messy hair and feels like he looks every bit as boy as Reggie or Bobby or Alex. Some days he feels like his body has no part of that at all, feels sheer joy just being himself, feels ecstatic lost in music or in dumb movies or in talking about his big dreams for the future. But today he can’t help but feel like his middle school self again, surly and bitter and the wrong shape, before he could properly explain to the boys what it felt like when they yelled his wrong name across the cafeteria, or jokingly called him their girlfriend, before he had the courage to tell them he wasn’t a girl in the first place.

He hates this. He hates how messed up he feels, how there doesn’t seem to be a single stable thing in his life, how he can’t even be happy just sitting in a room by himself in a shirt he wishes he wasn’t wearing, how when he turns and accidentally catches his own reflection in the window it all looks off and his shoulders—

Bobby’s back. Luke didn’t even hear him coming down the drive, but there he is, silhouetted against the door, and he slips inside as soon as Luke gives him a go-ahead nod. He has something bundled in his arms, and it’s only when he gets closer that Luke realises it’s Bobby’s favourite Nirvanahoodie.

“If you’ll take it off,” Bobby says gruffly, not quite looking at him, “then you can wear this. Deal?”

Luke feels his emotions all crawl up his throat at once. Before he’d started testosterone, he probably would’ve started crying.

“Then your arms won’t bother you, either,” Bobby adds, like he’s still trying to sell Luke on it, like Luke’s not having a tiny breakdown over his thoughtfulness already.

“How did you know that?” asks Luke, hushed. He barely voices these thoughts to the boys. Kinda doesn’t want to remind them that they’re not all having the same experience, when he can avoid it.

“Because I know you,” Bobby says, like it just slips out. Then blushes. Clears his throat, stiff and awkward. Like he thinks Luke doesn’t want his help, instead of his help being the best thing ever, the exact right amount of detached and understanding all at once. “Anyway. Deal?”

“Deal,” Luke agrees. Bobby chucks the sweater at his head and Luke has to put an arm up to defend himself, a laugh startled out of him before he realises it’s happening. When he scrambles the sleeves out of his face, he can see Bobby grinning, even as he rolls his eyes and tries to hide it.

Luke changes in the bathroom, pulls his binder over his head with some difficulty and a little pain, but the relief of being able to take a full breath is well worth it. Quickly, he pulls Bobby’s hoodie over his head, so he doesn’t spend too long finding more things wrong with how he looks. It’s way too big on him, which sometimes might bother him but tonight feels just right, the sleeves coming down over his hands. It’s soft and it smells like Bobby’s lola’s laundry detergent, and for one small moment Luke presses his sweater paws to his face and inhales.

It smells more like home than his own house. He tries not to dwell on that fact too much.

When he returns, Bobby is sprawled out on the couch, guitar in his lap. He’s pulling at the strings but not like he has any real idea what he’s playing, more just to make the sounds echo around the room.

“You tired?” Luke asks. He can’t help how his voice sounds a little hopeful.

“Nah,” Bobby replies, even though he always at least looks exhausted. For a moment, he gives Luke a considering look, and Luke worries he’s going to keep pushing, going to ask Luke what’s wrong, or whether he feels better, or anything about his feelings at all. Instead, Bobby just says, “Was wondering if you wanted to try and finish that new song we were playing with on Sunday. Really thought we were getting somewhere with that second verse.”

“Yes,” Luke crows, grabbing his guitar and flopping immediately down onto the couch. “I was thinking maybe if we changed the chord progression up just a little—”

Now that Luke is able to breathe, now that he’s binder-free, and practically drowning in Bobby’s hoodie, the idea of losing himself in his guitar and in the heady rush of song-writing with Bobby sounds like the greatest thing in the world. Bobby, who's looking up from his guitar to grin at Luke across the couch, who always pulls a surprise out of the bag that fixes everything right when Luke least expects it. Watching and listening and paying attention, in all the ways Luke needs it.

God, Luke fucking loves him. He puts his head down, closes his eyes, listens to the way their voices and their fingers on strings braid together into harmonies that make Luke’s heart sing. He kinda forgets to think about his body at all.

[lilyrachelcassidy]

same anon again! and totally cool with the last request :) So I popped up with a new one. Same thing daphne x reader using 15 and/or 47 from the prompt list! (preferably daphne asking out reader but anything’s cool) :))

A/N: Hi lovely anon... You're the sweetest <3 I really think you might be my official fav person rn :D And yes, yes, I'm super happy to see you again in my inbox and... oh boy, I love Daphne x Reader so much. Here you go with with the requests you asked for :)

Warnings: Might add but I consider both of those works as children-friendly lol (maybe some alcohol but that's pretty much it)...

15: “Just tell her that.” / “Such a pep talk…”

"Pansy?"

You burst into the Slytherin common room with as much energy as your legs could carry you with at the late hour as it was. Exactly, 1 am, if to be radically precise. But getting acquainted with Pansy's strange late-night habits for over seven years, you knew you could find her sprawling over the large lounge, still awake, with the Firewhisky drink in her hand per usual.

As presumed, you were right -- she was sitting, still fully dressed in her school robes and staring aloof at the fireplace, drifting more in her perplexing thoughts than she would want to. Hearing your sleepy voice, however, made her tilt her head and glance at you, standing in your emerald-green pajamas, at the entrance of the stairs to the girls' room.

She smirked. "Insomnia playing over?" she asked, teasingly, her sparkling eyes locking with your fluttery ones.

"No," you answered carefully before covering your mouth from a yawn to which Pansy's smirk widened. You flopped tiredly on the sofa, next to her and laid your head instinctively on her shoulder. "There's something I wanted to talk with you about."

"That's why you got out of bed? To talk to me about something you could do as well in the morning but without bothering your pretty face?" she asked, and though you couldn't see her face, you imagined she was frowning in incomprehension.

"Well..." you drawled, already partly regretting you had decided to come over with such a sensitive issue to her. "It's the only time Daphne is not around."

"Oh...Is that--" Pansy gasped in enthusiasm, throwing your head off of her to which you reacted with a small moan of pain, to look directly into your face. "Are you going to finally admit you're so madly in love with her and that you drool at her every time she doesn't look?"

Well, that was straightforward...

"W-what?" you sputtered out, trying to make sense of what you wanted to express. But dealing suddenly with too much confusion and surprise, you found it to be a challenging task to perform. "How would you know? I've never told anyone!"

At the raised, almost frantic tone of your voice, Pansy grinned, probably satisfied with the fact she dared to shock you. "You are the worst player in this puppy-love game if you haven't noticed yet," she said, arching her eyebrows. "It's almost hard to miss you staring at her in the classrooms or... I don't know... even when you talk to her, smiling like mad. Only concerns are for Daphne, who seems to be totally oblivious to that."

"You think? I mean, hasn't she noticed? Did she s--"

"No," Pansy interrupted you intentionally, rolling her eyes. "I think she has other doubts than that. Besides... it's also she who attempts to hide her goo-goo eyes from you."

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Ughh... She has a crush on you too! Happy?"

"No, she does no--"

"Of course she does, you unheeding dolt! One time, I even caught her scribbling your name in her notebook with small hearts around. What do you think it means?"

"I--" Momentarily speechless, you dropped your gaze to the hands and unconsciously started playing with your fingers. "I don't know what to say..."

"Just tell her that." Pansy shrugged, finding the simplest solution in everything while eloquently sipping her drink. "It's a normal thing to do. Go over to her during lunchtime and talk to her. Confess."

You huffed, suddenly feeling a stream of sarcasm dancing on your tongue. "Oh, really? Such a pep talk, you know... Thanks, Pans."

She nudged you with her elbow. "C'mon. You've wasted plenty of time daydreaming about her. It's a moment to take up action. Tomorrow, it's your round, or otherwise, it might pass."

Sighing, you peeked at her with seriousness. "I don't know about that."

"Then you'll never know," she commented aptly, and you knew she made her point. "I realize it might be confusing. But hey, no matter what happens, I'll be always there for you. Remember?"

"Remember," you repeated, somehow feeling more confident than you had been ten minutes ago.

XOXOXO

47. “Are you asking if I’m a single?” / “Okay… I-I will.”

The party night was... disastrous, to say at least.

And you really didn't want to be here. But all thanks to your best friend, Susan, who was definitely a go-go type of a person and had been insistently persuading you to get out with her ("This'd be so fun, Y/N!" said she with already a little too drunk tone), by now you were being pushed in the crowd of inebriated people, soaking in sweat due to the heated breaths that were puffing and blowing at your neck from all around. Making your best attempts to push your way, conflict-less, to some less teeming space, you met with a failure by being shoved to your previous position by someone's hips from behind and a loud 'Watch it!'.

Frustration and exasperation accumulated in you, and you felt truly flustered with a situation. As it turned out, flustered enough to provoke the combative self you hadn't known existed in you, to start jostling everyone around to move away from your path to freedom. It required a few angry 'ouches' and curses sent towards you, but finally...Finally, you succeeded in getting away from the bustle and a disgusting odor of sweat that hurt your nostrils just too much.

"Double Scotch, please," you said breathlessly to the bartender as you had reached the bar and casually leaned over the counter. "Triple if needed. Make it extra strong."

The bartender nodded merely, giving you a perfunctory smile, before taking care of your order by grasping some liquor from the shelf and pouring it professionally into the glass. Too distracted with exhaustion from too loud music and screeches from the crowd singing along the songs' lyrics, you hadn't even noticed a blonde girl with a glint of explicit interest in her eyes staring at you. Well, not until...

"Is it a way of dealing with the party?" the girl asked, smiling. "Or are you trying to forget you're here?"

"Both, I guess." You laughed, turning your head to behold a nice-looking gal who was casually sipping her Mohito drink. A really nice-looking, actually. Her hair was laid in the smooth curls on her broad shoulder, emphasizing her soft facial features and shiny, blue eyes. Dressed in the tight gleaming-black dress with the heals lengthening her legs, she looked more than appealing. "I was forced by a friend to come. Not my intention."

"Tell me about it," muttering under her breath, she playfully rolled her eyes and smirked suggestively. Then with an outstretched hand, she proffered you an inviting smile and introduced herself, "I'm Daphne."

You took a hand invitation, shaking in lightly and reciprocating a smile. "Y/N."

"So, you came here with a friend?" the girl, now as you knew Daphne, asked you with an arousing curiosity. "Or girlfriend, or boyfriend?"

Alcohol being the best solution for straightforwardness as it was, forced you to express your first-moment thought without any earlier contemplation. "Are you asking if I'm single?" You took a gulp of your drink and squinted suddenly at the realization of your words. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that! It's just--"

"It's okay, I'm aware of the after-alcohol effects," Daphne soothed you down and tried her best to hide her pre-momentary shock from her face, though you could still detect it.

You fucking idiot!

"Yeah, I've come here with my roommate. She loves parties and said it would be a crime to miss one, especially on Friday night," you answered her question, attempting to get slickly out of your faux pas.

Smiling, forgetting about your little confusion, and ignoring the noise from the background, you chatted, relishing each other's company and treating it as a make-up for ruined Friday plans, fault laying on both of your friends' sides. How much time had passed while you were sitting there, taking the next rounds from the bartender and goggling at each other you didn't know, but one thing was sure -- you both definitely enjoyed it.

The things came, however, to the end as soon as Susan, plastered as you had never seen her before, approached you in a stumbling manner. She was giggling like mad, which clearly indicated one thing -- it's about time to export her back to the house.

"What the heck?! It's not a funeral, peach. Come dance with me!" she screamed as if she was on the opposite side of the room, putting her arms around your shoulder and dangling on you to keep her balance. "Cooooommmmee..."

"No," you shot back, also drunk but much less than her, which made you take responsibility in your hands. Instead of looking at Susan, however, you glanced at Daphne apologetically. "We're calling a cab."

"But, I--"

"Shut it," you said, a little angry with her intoxicated state but yourself having a bit of a problem creating a coherent sentence. "The party is over. We're- are go-ing home."

Susan made a small groan but said nothing, to which you were very thankful because you wanted to end the conversation with Daphne. The sudden influx of bravery had overtaken, and you asked her to hand over her phone. So she compliantly did, and you tapped your phone number on the screen, saving it on the contacts list before handing it back to the proper owner.

"I'm sorry it turned out that way. In these circumstances," you apologized to Daphne, the weight on your arm becoming gradually heavier as your friend wriggled in her place, still grasping your shoulder like to necessary sanity. "It was nice meeting you."

Daphne smiled at that. "You too. Good luck with..." She didn't finish her sentence, but you concluded she was referring to the little situation with drunken Susan.

"Thanks. Oh, and..." You suddenly changed the timbre of your voice to a little deeper one, almost exigent actually. "...don't forget to call me."

A coy smile spread on Daphne's lips, and she said, more in the murmur than a normal tone, "Okay...I-I will..."

And then, you were strolling away, satisfied with how your Friday turned out, much less lame than you had initially assumed.

Maybe the party wasn't such a bad idea after all.

XOXOXOXO

A/N: I enjoyed writing those actually. These had to be drabbles but somehow turned out to be full-length one-shots. But no fault of mine; these were just my hands doing most of the job! I'm taking a break to spend some quality time with my friends (yes, it's me bragging I have a private life lol), and I'm sitting at my computer to write the next goodie :) See ya in some time!

Btw, as I've counted (via my computer) it's almost 2k words. What's wrong?!