#should i tag florid

[twstem]

HAPPY (slightly late) NEW YEARS !!

I'm not dead after all 😎

[0ann3]

Genuinely the first thing that popped into my head when I finished that part of his Birthday jacket card ASJKHkAJHS

Also drew something as a bonus bcs I can't have a florid tag without drawing Floyd:

[sureuncertainty]

if i have to see one more post about disney from people who don't work here or at least live in the area i'm gonna lose it

[riddlerosehearts]

prev this is SUCH a funny addition, thank you for sharing

thinking about floyd and riddle spending their first halloween as a couple together... i think floyd absolutely loves how varied and lively all of the different halloween traditions he's learned about since coming to live on land are, and he wants to try out as many of them as he can each year. so when riddle tells him that his mother always made him stay in his room studying on halloween, and that the only halloween activities he's ever done were those that NRC students were required to participate in, floyd decides that the two of them are just going to have to spend the day doing everything they possibly can. riddle tries to say he's far too busy for such things, but floyd will not let it go and honestly riddle is only half-heartedly protesting anyway because he secretly did always dream of doing the things that other kids got to do on halloween, and maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal to take one day off and spend time with his boyfriend.

so, riddle never got to make jack-o-lanterns? floyd decides to "borrow" about half a dozen of the pumpkins jade and azul had bought for mostro lounge and takes them to riddle's dorm room. riddle is terrible at trying to carve them at first and floyd can't help but laugh at him a little, but since he knows it's not riddle's fault he's never gotten to do this before, he says he'll show him how to do it. unfortunately floyd isn't nearly as good as he thinks he is on account of having lived in the ocean for almost his whole life and now riddle gets to laugh right back at him. they probably both get the hang of it right as they're down to their last two pumpkins.

riddle never got to go trick-or-treating with his childhood friends? floyd texts trey and convinces him to get in touch with chenya as well so that they can all go together. when they approach the first house, in the costumes they had prepared for each of their school's halloween events, riddle starts to get nervous and asks if they aren't all a little too old to be doing this. floyd shoves several huge handfuls of candy from that person's bowl into his and riddle's pumpkin-shaped buckets and tells him it's not like there's any rule that says they can't, and besides, riddle is such a cute little goldfish that he practically looks like a kid in his costume anyway! chenya stifles a laugh while trey has to stop riddle from committing murder that night.

riddle's never gone to a haunted house before? floyd and chenya both think it would be hilarious to make him go to one, so they do. riddle absolutely hates it, but it honestly does make him happy to see everyone else enjoying it--even if floyd and chenya both keep trying to egg him and trey on and get them to go down creepy corridors and check around corners by themselves, and even if floyd keeps running off to different parts of the haunted house and then coming back and hugging or even lifting riddle from behind knowing full well that he'll get freaked out by it.

riddle never got to play the apple bobbing game that's traditional in the queendom of roses? turns out there's a place right by the haunted house where they can go to do it! predictably, floyd is great at it while riddle ends up drenched without getting any apples, but just giving it a try is more fun than riddle expected.

riddle's never gotten to make candy apples before? luckily, trey knows an amazing recipe as well as what combinations of toppings work the best, and he's willing to teach them both! riddle gets very confused at imprecise directions such as being told to use "a few" drops of food coloring on the syrup or to drizzle "a little" white chocolate over it, and keeps asking trey exactly how much he should use. floyd thinks this is adorable. he also thinks it's adorable when riddle tries to scold him for ignoring half of trey's directions and just doing whatever he thinks sounds good.

riddle's never done a horror movie marathon before, or even seen any halloween movies in general? floyd insists that they marathon at least 3 movies together. after the experiences he had at the haunted house, riddle doesn't think he'll enjoy horror movies, but he tries to keep his cool throughout the first one anyway... which does not work out, because he really can't handle jumpscares or excessive gore. during the first movie they watch, floyd (who loves slasher films so much that he laughs and cheers every time the monster gets a kill) is happy to let his goldfishie cuddle up to him and grip onto his arm to keep himself from knocking the popcorn bowl onto the floor, but you know that once it's over riddle is getting teased relentlessly about how scared he was. floyd decides to be nice and put on something tamer for their next two movies, and riddle actually ends up really enjoying coraline and especially beetlejuice.

by the end of the night riddle realizes that they've stayed up way too late at night and a small part of him wants to scold floyd for keeping him up so late, insisting on having him do all of these silly activities and eat all of these terribly unhealthy snacks. another part of him wishes he could scold his mother for keeping him from doing any of these things as a kid, with his friends and the other kids in his hometown, the way you're supposed to do it... and another part of him still is just incredibly happy and grateful to floyd for finally giving him the chance.

[lifewtr]

and the difference is this | M+ | 3/7

After a horrible moment that leaves her befuddled, Katara seeks out the most undesirable route to her problem. For Zutara Week 2023 (@zutaraweek), Day 5 + 6: Respite, Forge.

Five days ago, Zuko had found himself stuck with the faint scent of sugar up his nose.

It had been exigent yet also no more than a tendril; so scarce that he’d simply thought that he’d been struck with a peculiar craving.

With the scent came a memory, after all. Winter Solstice with his mother’s side of the family, high in the frosty northern mountains of the Fire Nation. It was a memory from before, when his parents had been happy and his sister had smiled more freely. His great grandfather had taught them how to bake cloudberry-mint cookies that year. “This is snow sugar,” his great grandfather had told them, “it’s made special in the South.”

The hazy smell of that minty sweetness had stayed with him nearly all through the day as he worked, only ebbing when he’d made his routine run around the track in the Embassy’s eastern field. By the time he’d made it back to his suite—because no way was he going to sleep in the barracks if he didn’t have to—the sugar cookies were all he’d been able to think about again, from the foyer to his bedroom, from his shower to his kitchen, his mouth had watered more and more for a flavor that wasn’t there.

Standing in his kitchen in nothing but leftover water droplets and a towel on his hips, Zuko made a decision. He hadn’t quite been up to the task of baking said cloudberry cookies, or even sourcing the right ingredients and having them properly cleared to be brought onto base for that matter, but he had supposed that he could snuff the hankering with a jam-filled powdered donut and a peppermint coffee.

He’d dressed with a place in mind; had stopped by Mai’s suite to ask if she wanted to tag along, his treat. His second in command had promptly stopped sharpening her knives and put her shoes on—not once had he ever heard her say no to free food.

The streets of Yu Dao were as busy as they should’ve been for a pleasant Thursday evening and so was the cafe when they’d stepped inside. For whatever reason, Zuko had been a bit jittery with excitement for that snack. He hadn’t questioned it too much. The smell of sugar had been dense and warm in the air of the cafe and he’d been ready to slate his craving.

And then, after less than a moment of being in line to place their order, the scent of sweetness had transformed right before his nose. Suddenly it had unfurled. Suddenly it had been like a tundra in the spring; florid with thickets of bright, resilient blooms of pink and purple on a blunt cliffside. Suddenly it had been sunshine reflecting on a crashing ocean and crisp, salt-tinged winds, all voracity and wonder and need.

Suddenly there had been a woman with luminous blue eyes turning and baring her teeth at him.

‘What the fuck?’ He’d thought to himself in alarm.

‘Omega?’ Interest had piped up shortly after, tentative and out of place. ‘What gorgeous little fangs...’

‘What the fuck?’ He’d thought again, that time at himself. Had he stepped closer? Why was he reaching for her? She didn’t need to hiss in his face, needn't whimper like that at him. He was only going to help, as he should. He was only going to give her everything that she could ever possibly require—

“Back the fuck up,” Mai had stepped into his line of sight then, had placed her body between him and sugar and then glared death at him with narrowed hazel eyes. He’d curled his lip over his teeth in a silent snarl, a warning, but Mai had only snarled and growled back. “Where’s your head, Zuko?” She’d snapped at him, her quiet tenor as cold and dangerous as any of her knives. “Dude, do I need to drag you out of here? You’re causing a goddamned scene. Remember your station, Major.”

The scent of hot coals had rammed up his nose then—agitation undercut with a touch of concern; alpha, replacing all sweetness of snow sugar in his senses. That had been all it took for him to straighten up, to remember who he was; who Mai was, which was somebody not to be fucked with, not even by him. She was his best friend who had absolutely no problem dragging him by his mangled ear if it meant getting out of the mud alive, and he had no business showing her his teeth.

“What the hell was that?” She’d asked him when they’d eventually sat down with their order, the cafe back to calm; the woman nowhere to be scented or seen. He’d known she meant him though, and truthfully Zuko hadn’t had a fucking clue about the lapse. His senses weren’t often poked at in such a way.

“Don’t know. Next time just deck me in the nose,” he’d said around a bite of donut. The wariness on Mai’s face had ebbed after a moment, instead replaced with a small smirk of acceptance. It was a promise that he knew she’d keep.

Hours later, after Mai had indulged him in a late night spar to help him blow off some lingering steam from that strangle little incident, they’d made their way from the training yard and back towards their respective suites.

The north hall had been closed off for cleaning. They’d thought nothing of it and made the easy decision to cut their way inside through the west.

About halfway down the Embassy’s western wing, they’d heard a crash. It hadn’t been loud—in fact it had been just quiet enough to raise his hackles. One shared glance with Mai and the barest of nods later, they ventured deeper into the building.

Another crash had sounded out; the faint curdle of a wailing growl from the midst of the Ambassador’s Lodge. The closer they got the more the memory of cloudberry-mint cookies persisted in the back of Zuko’s head.

The commotion had been coming from room 012 on the right. Mai had knocked, had pressed her ear to the door and asked if everything was alright. On the other side, something had hit the ground. A loud, agonized whimper had come through.

Mai got the door open. Sugar had flooded Zuko’s nose.

“Stay!” Mai had barked at him on her way in. The command had rankled against him unpleasantly, at being told what to do by another alpha. It had worked, though; had sliced through the weird place that his mind had started to go and cleared the fog that he hadn’t noticed clouding his thoughts—but then there had been another whimper, and then he was inside. Another, more pained whimper, and then Mai had let out a string of curses from where she’d been cradling a woman in the middle of the floor.

The same slip of a woman from the cafe.

‘What the...’

“Medic!” Mai had growled at him. “Now, Major!”

The command had rankled.

Grateful once again, the Major had replaced Zuko.

read AND THE DIFFERENCE IS THIS in full on AO3! ↬

[owlespresso]

pollen, chapter 5

tags: fem!reader, healer!reader, reader has a personality

a/n: thank you for your patience.

Read 1-4 HERE.

“You think she ever gets bored in there?” Ardbert asks, motioning to the Solar’s towering double doors. 

“No idea,” you say, returning your attention to the texts laid across the timber table. Dusty tomes in tongues of lands far away have been hastily translated by Sharlayan’s most driven scholars. The good men and women of Saint Coinach’s Find hadn’t spared you a second glance when you slipped inside of G’raha Tia’s abandoned room. It had been just as he left it, hardly packed. Standing there, in the midst of all his belongings—you aren’t proud of how it winded you. How much of a hold a man you’d known for mere weeks had over your emotions.

It would have been a most audacious waste to leave his things to draw dust, given the doubtless countless hours he spent gathering such a sumptuous sum of information. At least a single piece of his collection accompanies you wherever you go, slid into your pockets, in between the folds of your robes, reading material for free moments between missions, opportunities to learn about Allag and the worrisome wonders it so carelessly created.

It’s irritating to know that some of history’s most malevolent empires are also its most successful, but you could co-opt what you gleaned for your own valiant purposes.

“Reading all that, again?” Ardbert regards the streaked ink and crowded margins of your parchment with a raised brow. Weeks ago, you would have mistaken his question for poorly masked derision. Now, it is painfully clear that he questions you out of clear concern, making it markedly difficult to dismiss his query as the petulant pryings of a man who could not see the value of your intellectual pursuits. 

“You should give it a rest—I mean, far be it from me to tell you what to do…” He breaks into a stumbling series of desperate clarifications, cheeks flushing pale florid. 

“I know,” you reply, giving him a gentle, reassuring grin. “But I’m fine. Really. I know where my own limits lie.”

In the wake of Meteor’s sudden distance, Ardbert seems to have taken it upon himself to take up twice your attention. He intercepts you in the halls with offers to carry your belongings, joins you for meals, and tags along on trips to Mor Dhona’s markets. It’s all well and good, better than the strained relationship you’ve had thus far, but that doesn’t stop the change from feeling awkward. Even he does not seem entirely confident when he asks to accompany you. What exactly does he want? Is he sticking so close out of some sense of gentlemanly obligation? Or is Meteor avoiding him as well, rendering him just as lonely as you?

“Do you?” Ardbert asks, and all of the good will you’ve been willing to extend crumples. “You’ve been working yourself to pieces—pulling all nighters ‘till you can hardly keep your eyes open! You nearly fell into your pudding yesterday.” His hand hovers over the ink-stained pages. Irritation strikes you like a fresh burn, like you’ve touched the still hot stovetop. Your wrists throb, hands curling into fists.

“That’s not true.” you grouse. “Pudding incident aside.”

A moment of silence settles between you. His strong, weathered hands grasp one of yours, thumbs pressing against the sore stretch of your wrist. The sudden sensation sends a shock up your spine and makes your breath hitch, cheeks growing warm. The feeling is shockingly familiar to you now, his touch running up to your palms and back down again. You can’t even bear to look at him, fingers twitching as he presses against your palm.

“I know we don’t much get along. On a good day, but trust me on this.” he murmurs. His brown eyes shine rich amber under the candlelight. The space between his brows wrinkles in concentration.

“You called me a ‘nag’ for telling you to get some rest.” you pointedly remind him. 

“That was only once!” he insists. “And I have since learned the error of my ways, thank you.” “You can call me whatever you’d like, but we both know I’m right,” he insists. “I’m not asking you to stop. I’m asking you to rest.”

“Your concern touches me, really… but I cannot stand an idle mind.” You pull away, met by only a meager resistance. You try not to think about the gentle pull of Ardbert’s fingers as you slide your hand free, calluses drifting over your palm and fingers. Ardbert’s already fretful frown furrows further, and you awkwardly ignore his cross expression in favor of study. The chapter detailing the creation of Baphomet is next—and you’re sure that your unique comprehension and experience with other primals could help you unearth something new. Even the most studied of scholars do not have the unique comprehension you possess, a skillset which lends itself to revolutionary breakthroughs which surely supersedes your mortal need for rest and other petty distractions.

“...Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ardbert, I’m not sure if my research would be of much interest—”

“I’m not talking about your research,” Ardbert says. “It’s still troubling you—the Tower, and what happened with G’raha. And that’s alright! We all grieve. That’s just a part—”

“I’m not grieving,” you inform him in a monotone drone, ignoring the sudden tightness of your chest. You’re well-accustomed to losing things—and people. It’s a part of being an adventurer. A part of being a Scion. But it’s only just that—a part, and you cannot let it rule you, lest it rend you to pieces.

It’s become clear that he intends to obstruct your study until he’s been appeased, so you cross your arms and lean back in your seat, the fine upholstery cradling the back of your neck, your aching back. Your rest your head backwards, weary eyes drawing shut as you submit yourself to his lecture. 

“The material I’m reviewing could hold vital information that only someone with my experience can understand, That’s why I took it with me.”

“And it just so happened to be in G’raha Tia’s quarters. Right after we were told the rest of the research team would be clearing it out. After you spent a whole bell blubbering about the lad.”

“I was not ‘blubbering’,” you shoot up from your seat, palms slamming onto the table. The teacups clattered noisily against their porcelain dishes, silverware similarly jostled. Any mote of goodwill you have afforded him during this conversation dries up near instantly. You could feel the startled stares of your nearby fellows, unwanted attention making your face hot. The deathly feeling of embarrassment only adds to the agitation which now simmers beneath your skin, the skin you had always believed quite thick. Wordlessly, you began to gather your materials, shuffling files and folders into haphazard stacks—just tidy enough to keep together, cradled to your chest like a barrier.

“Wait,” Ardbert beseeches with a newfound desperation. His lips press into a thin, flat line, expression immediately beset with immense regret. “Wait—I didn’t mean—wait just a moment—!” he stood, hand awkwardly hovering as if to reach for you or your papers. Wisely, he refrains from taking such reckless action. 

“I’ve heard enough.” Hopefully, the venom in your voice will be enough to keep him at bay. He’s already testing your insomnia-worn patience, composure slipped between your fingers like salt silted by waves. It hadn’t been his intent to upset you so, but wars and negotiations resolve based on intent and action alone. A single verbal blunder can spell disaster for entire kingdoms and continents. Fortunately, Ardbert’s lone crime is offending you. And the worst he would receive is a temporary reprieve from your presence, which is perhaps more of a boon than anything. “I’ll be in my chambers should you need me.” You push your chair back into the table with your hip. jaw clenching as the legs creak noisily against the tile. A step, then another, before you spare him a last look over your shoulder. “Please, try not to need me.”

---

Mor Dhona has been overtaken by grey, a canopy of clouds shedding water onto the cobblestone streets. Meteor bears the weather with no more than a grimace, paltry pattering of raindrops paling in comparison to the powers of primals and the pain they’ve inflicted. A scar on his left flank, courtesy of Ifrit, aches whenever the weather grows this gloomy. He pays it no heed, head low under the black tilt of his umbrella. The fingers of his other hand drum across his belt as he pursues the market stalls. 

The sudden turn in weather has frightened a wide portion of patrons indoors, leaving him blessedly alone in an uncharacteristically quiet market. Not a single shelf is spared his discerning gaze as he searches for an apology gift of acceptable quality. He’s painfully aware of how confused and perturbed you were after his sudden exit and subsequent avoidance of your person. Everytim he dares recall the tower, he is appalled at how easily that ancient concoction seized his inhibitions, how horrendously high it stoked his passions. Had you been a touch more stubborn, insisted on prying answers out of him or worse, treating him, the shot strings holding his decorum in tact could have dissolved, putting you in great danger. 

Warrior of Light title notwithstanding, a soft bodied healer would prove little challenge to someone like himself, or Ardbert. At a distance, you could fend them off, but you had been close enough to grab, close enough to press the entirety of his body against you. It would have been child’s play to pin you to the wall, to edge one of his thighs between your legs to settle his hungry mouth into the crook of your neck.

A shout of his name from the opposite side of the market snaps him from that grim line of thought, warmth in his breast doused by a cold wave of something not entirely shameful. Something dark and unbidden had purred at the thought, and that very same presence laughs mockingly in his ears.

“How long are you going to wait?” it hisses. “How long will you deny us?”

And then Ardbert, looking soggy and cross, is standing a film before him, face wrenched into a sullen pout. Rain beats against his pauldrons, droplets rolling down the brown leather. His soaked bangs fall into his forehead. Several awkward moments of silence settle between them. Meteor spends every single one fending off his own dread.

“You’ve got some nerve, you know that!?” Ardbert says. Meteor’s face crumples into a sour scowl. In the wake of the Crystal Tower, you have been granted an extended respite. Meteor assumed you could not personally care less if he was present or not, you had grieving to do (despite your denial) and though he could not claim to know you well, he did know you hated for others to bear witness to your moments of weakness. A staunch perfectionist, unwilling to be seen at anything other than your best.

It’s clear his absence has jarred you, in some way, more than he anticipated. He can think of no other reason for Ardbert’s sullen, storm countenance.

“What’s happened?” he inquires, immediately and urgently. The taut line of Ardbert’s shoulders ease, his relief practically palpable as he elaborates.

“She’s been buried in her books for days now—well, I suppose I should be saying his books.”

“Whose?” Fierce alarm colors his voice, so suddenly it surprises him. 

“The Sharlayan lad who shut himself in the Tower. He left all his things behind. Ever since she brought ‘em back, she hasn’t slept a wink—I’m sure of it. Bags under her eyes deep as Syrcus.” Ardbert hurriedly informs him, impassioned testimony flooding out all at once.

“She’s still grieving him,” Meteor says, more a passive observation than an informative statement. You bury yourself in your work on the regular. He can only imagine what you look like now. His lips press into a grim frown. He is well-acquainted with the brutal ache of overwork and he knows it well, better than most, he would dare say. Intensive, impassioned labor was at first a means of survival, then a way to distract from whatever unholy thing has taken up residence inside of him. He cannot hear its incessant whispering if he is worn enough to sleep.

“Have you tried… talking to her?” he asks.

Aerdbert looks personally affronted. “Of course I have!” he insists ardently, voice rising above the sound of the tempestuous weather. The winds have begun to howl, a sudden verticality to the gales that brings the water dangerously close to their spot underneath the tarp. “And more than once! But you know she hates listening to anyone, much less me. She’s a healer, but she’s just as stubborn as you and I.”

Meteor blinks. Stubborn? He’s never known himself to be particularly stubborn. Dedicated, perhaps. Diligent, in both training and on the field. He has half a mind to remind Ardbert of any of the six occasions he can immediately recall in which his brother was the picture of stubborn (his insistence on exploring the Aurum Vale when you were absent on parley to Dragonhead), but he mercifully refrains, beating back the quarrelsome urge.

“Let’s face it,” Ardbert continues, equal parts exasperated and defeated. “She clearly has a favorite, and it sure as hell isn’t me.”

There’s nothing Meteor can truly say to that, because it is abundantly and painfully correct.

“Alright,” he relents, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Intervening in the business of others is quite literally in his job description, but he hesitates to meddle in interpersonal affairs. He much prefers the solemn quiet of his steel to the plex customs of the social order. The battlefield is less daunting than diplomatic affairs between different powers, where the smallest upset could spark political incident. Fortunately, a brief conversation with you does not bring with it a risk of war. Most likely.

---

Nighttime settles over Mor Dhona like a widow’s veil, stars blotted out by blackened clouds. Thunder sings low in the distance, Ramug’s song rumbling over rolling hills of stone and steep spires of crystal. You work deep into the night, candlelight slips through the narrow crack of the door, and touches the opposite wall. The rest of the Scions have squirreled away their respective chambers, leaving the Rising Stones settled silent and nearly empty. He spares the remaining night owls polite nods as he passes them in the hall.

He keeps his footsteps loud on purpose, alerting you to in lieu of the thick plate armor he’s abandoned in his room’s cramped closet. He’s come to you in a black button up and dark slacks, boots laced up to his knees. He feels ridiculously exposed without his armor, a rigorous discomfort which prowls his every step. Any shadow could be a knife through the ribs, a beast laying in wait, a Garlean assassin still sore from past defeat. And the shadows are not still. No, their edges writhe when he looks at them too long. His own paranoia stirs his senses to a heat-stroke simmer.

So he pays them no mind. They are tricks of the light, idle playings of an overactive mind. Perhaps its restlessness. Nearly a week has passed since he last drew steel, since he ventured beyond Mor Dhona. An expedition will do him good, he decides, gently nudging open your door.’

The mere sight of you fills him with an inexplicable amount of relief. You’re curled over your desk, but you budge when the hinges creak, eyes gleaming with a recognition that lets him know he is real. His pulse becomes quiet in his ears, the hasty thudding of his heart rendered mere background noise as you speak. 

“You’re up late.”

“I could say the same to you,” he says with a small, wry smile. “Can’t sleep?”

“You could say that,” you hum, regarding him with a discerning squint. “...You can come sit, if you want.”

This is his first time inside your private room, he realizes. Crossing the threshold feels like some sort of sacred act. Urging the door closed, even gently, feels like a sin. It’s a terribly cozy space. A bookshelf crammed full hugs the western wall, stacks of tomes left to overflow onto the floor and the coffee table and the dark wood nightstand. The bed looks even cozier. The unmade blankets are half slumped onto the round rug partially placed underneath the frame. Meteor resists the urge to pick it up and fold it. Instead he settles himself on the edge.

“So, what is it?” you turn in your chair, regarding him flatly. You’re dressed in a slip of a robe. The sheer fabric shifts to expose more of our thigh, squished against your crossed leg. The warm candlelight touches your bare skin with a tenderness. Meteor tears his eyes away.

“I… I’m sorry for not being present, and for any inconvenience I may have caused you.” Meteor says, meaning every word. No matter how you feel about him and Ardbert, the bond you share is vital to your success as a team. A sacred commitment forged under Hydaelyn’s all-knowing, all-loving gaze. Not being able to reach him must have made it impossible to decide where you would be going, precious time wasted.

“Inconveniences?” you say with an incredulous scoff. “I suppose we’re behind on planning, but I can handle most of it within the day. If I were to be upset—which I am not—it would be because… I happened to miss your company.” You bite out the words like sour apple seeds, space between your brows wrinkling.

“But you would have.” Meteor prods, unable to stop himself.

“But I didn’t,” you corrected him, stern as can be. “Honestly, I've been too busy with research to really notice who comes and goes.” you inform him with a reluctant mote of sheepishness, clearly disconcerted at admitting your distraction. “But I swear that what I learn from this will aid us all in the future.”

Meteor blinks as you launch into a small lecture. The sluggishness which weighs you like a worrisome spirit lifts as you delve into the unique Allagan perspectives on the primal problem, mentioning methods of containment long forgotten alongside the rest of the empire and its accursed, abominable creations. Never before has he witnessed such passion swell within you, such ardor. There’s a glimmer in your eyes, a glow about you. At that moment. he decides that passion suits you. Even if he will have to ask you to repeat your exposition and explain in further detail numerous times. Preferably at a slower, more comprehensible pace,

“I believe you,” he says, standing to cross the distance between you. Up close, he can see the bags under your eyes, luggage you’ve been saddled with the moment G’raha Tia sealed himself away. He cannot help the bitter pang of resentment which stirs within his breast at the man who so carelessly drove you to this state, sending your brain awry with grief and guilt.

Something deeper, something more shameful hisses in envy, in disbelief that another man has so easily wrested such fervent emotion from you. And in such a short amount of time.

His hand, weighted this time not by glove or gauntlet, lands on your shoulder. Two of his fingers span beyond the neckline of your robe, touching your bare nape. There is a magnetism that comes with touching you. The Echo pulses and resonates, aether reaching out and rushing warm beneath his skin. It’s an outpouring of energy that brings with it a bevy of unusual, varying side effects. For that reason, he and Ardbert have mutually agreed to touch you only when necessary.

Meteor has wandered in the past if it affects you as much as it does them. A shiver pulls down your spine, betraying your otherwise cool countenance. It's absurd, how such little contact can evoke so much, but it is relieving to know he is not alone. His thumb twitches, before he rolls soothing circles over that patch of bare skin, attempting to settle some of the tension which pulls your shoulders taut.

“You should get some rest,” he urges quietly, voice low, eyelids dipping as he nudges against the ambient pulse of your aether.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you mutter, and for the first time, before he can help himself, Meteor scoffs at you. It’s a haughty, amused little sound that has you whirling to face him with hackles raised. The satisfaction he sows from your reaction is obscenely childish, but he quickly smothers the worst of himself, straightening his lips and schooling his expression into one of stern concern.

“Trying to make sure you’re prepared for what tomorrow brings,” Meteor supplies. “Our next mission is in Gridania. The moogles of the Shroud have summoned a primal.”

“I don’t recall them worshiping any gods.” Even when exhausted, you remain quick on the uptake.

“Exactly,” he replies, providing no further context. The details will wait until the morrow. You don’t need anymore information knocking around inside your head while you try to sleep. He swallows, wishing for a reply, a retort, but you are hesitant. And the silence that settles seeds the ground for the insidious voice to sow.

How simple it would be to lift you by the nape, to manhandle you onto the mattress, to press upon you all that you have made him feel. It’s repulsive, it's disgusting—the very concept of so violently breaking your trust makes his guts churn, makes his cock hard as stone. He feels frigid at his edges, a bitter cold wreathing around his outermost extremities as something tries to claw to the surface. He shuts his eyes tight and breathes evenly, wills down the wolf even as his head splits.

The legs of your chair squeal as you push out from your desk, sending him scampering back to avoid a stubbed toe. The contact is broken. His fingers twitch and his palms prickle, an aching chasm opening within his chest. A sense of emptiness lingers in your wake.

And you’re wearing a strange face as you regard him. Not fraught with fear, but with suspicion. He has somehow made you curious, which is perhaps the most frightening outcome of all. He is no G’raha Tia. He cannot spar with you intellectually, and he cannot bear to be the next fervent focus you dedicate yourself to. 

Rather than launching into a barrage of questions, you simply nod. He doesn’t know whether to be relieved or not.

“You win, I’ll get some rest. But I’ll have questions for you in the morning.” Meteor nods and gives you a gentle goodnight, hastily hastening from your quarters with the poorly disguised dread of a man rusting to the restroom before he sicks all over the rug.

He leaves for Gridania early the next morning, while you are still in bed and Ardbert is struggling to get out of his.

[serpentarii]

M O R D L U S T ; progress update

it's been like a year, so i should probably do another one of these 🫠 progress is slow but....certainly happening. i've been excited to write for this project for the first time in months and some of her rough edges are starting to smooth out which is very 😈 to me. ik i kinda abandoned my #priswritesmordlust tag but dw, she'll probably be back in a few weeks.

don't fucking hate me but i restarted the draft...it's not what it sounds like pls believe me. i got up to a little over 54k but since i write out of order so many things were inconsistent or driving me nuts because i knew how to make them better, but wasn't letting myself backtrack so i finally gave in.

don't worry tho !! i'm 24k into my current draft and it's already far better than the original in a lot of ways

i also added in 3 more chaps to flesh out certain subplots, side characters, etc

brief renaming guide: reiken ☛ helemar & reiki ☛ helemere

past me was right, act 2 was rlly fun to write for voir, since that's when salem shows up for realsies <33

voir is also the definition of mordlust, she only has a fight instinct

i might actually be able to cut this thing down to the 90k range once i really get into aleksander's pov, since it's way less florid than voir's

expect more worldbuilding posts !

things are getting v hectic for me since im currently enrolled in summer classes and the fall semester is beginning soon SO if things seem wonked thats why

so yah, ty all for sticking with me for the past. three years 💀💀 but here are some snacks for the road:

S N I P P E T S 

❝"No," he said, rising. His hands retreated into his coat pockets. "But I do believe in mercy."❞ 

— CHAPTER THIRTY, Mordlust 

❝He would have blamed it on their name alone, but there was kinship to be found among the devout of the Many-Faced God. He placed a hand over the satchel at his side, soon to be filled with the gold-stamped heads of kings and queens. His mouth went dry with the taste of ghaltmarks.❞ 

— CHAPTER TWELVE, Mordlust 

❝Had he known what would become of him, he would have laid himself broken at your feet and cried, "Look at me! Look at what they did to me!"❞ 

— CHAPTER FOURTEEN, Mordlust 

❝He couldn't believe it. A part of Voir still refused to. If she did indeed kill the Helemar, there would no longer be a place for her in Falkenreik. She'd betray the very earth where she stood.❞ 

— CHAPTER SEVEN, Mordlust 

T A G L I S T

{ send an ask to be +/- }

@seasteading | @veneritia | @sourrcandy | @arkicts | @redrcbin | @behel1ts | @darkgazer | @inky-duchess | @kaatiba | @writeblrfantasy | @wildswrites | @morganwriteblr | @frvnwrites | @bayoucurse | @caradhraas | @birdskullz | @nallthatjazz | @ladywithalamp | @cannivalisms | @muddshadow | @sylhorn | @mortallynuttyqueen | @halcionic

[sparklymilks]

anyway in other news

today was pretty decent - ben got a case of the sads at about 9pm but actually recovered p fast and without any crying that i saw but he was in the bath for a bunch of the evening so i cannot verify this. the sad attacks are definitely getting more spread out + (i think from an outsider perspective) less intense. i genuinely think as well that we hadn't had sex in ages (ofc the week ana was away my period started so we didnt really bother) which made us both kind of :(

we had sex :) + read to each other. ben asked if we could do more reading out loud to each other at bedtime bc he really liked our matsuo basho reading. i liked it as well - i think i focused much better on teh words than i usually do - so ben picked a shortlist of books to read next (i haven't read a book in like 10y so there's no point me picking one) + i picked one from that + anyway we're reading "this is how you lose the time war" and im reading all of red's bits + he's doing blue. ill be honest... not fully sure about teh writing style... ben used the word florid as a compliment + i would use the same word, but as an insult lol. (very very representative of our characters i think) some of the sentences i really like but so far i cant feel much of a difference btwn red + blue - like if one of them wrote very floridly + one of them wrote very starkly i feel i'd appreciate that more bc you would be getting some insight into the characters but as it stands, the entire thing feels a bit like a creative writing exercise to me. we're not that far in tho so maybe it will capture me more as we go i should send ben some of my fanfic (look it's just a hobby) + see what he thinks lol

we played chess next to each other in bed :) he's been making some tentative little steps into learning / playing the game :)

i had intended on doing more work than i ended up doing but i think sometimes just spending hours and hours with your partner doing not much is the best way to spend a saturday

ana is back now! i forgot to say yesterday but they are back :) i did miss them a lot! whenever we're apart i yearn and pine

god, also! i forgot to say the other day but i needed something to watch while i cleaned my alpaca the other day + settled on red white and royal b lue + it was the tropiest shit ive ever seen in my life. i dont know if it's bc the author (it's an adaptation) comes from fanfic or bc the fanfic style has become indistinguishable from YA style more generally these days but it was kind of nuts to me how much the film could have just been a collection of AO3 tags?? im not even bashing fanfic bc i ahve written it since i was a kid and some fanfic is better than some published work and it's all a rich tapestry. HOWEVER this film was just crazy in its ... nothingness?? it was a perfectly fine watch i guess if you're looking for a princess diaries-y gay romance + god knows there are enough sugary romance films about straight people and those cut from the rainbow cloth also deserve their fair share of merry dross but yeah i was just surprised!! idk

[marianperera]

Why speech tags don't work for me

I just read a post about how speech tags like "he snarled" and "she hissed" weren't meant to be taken literally. And apparently, those of us who don't like these tags are unimaginative because we take these sounds as verbatim rather than trying to imagine what the writer has in mind. So for instance, if the writer says a character yodeled something, maybe we should think of a character speaking in a high-pitched sing-song voice (rather than having a Sound of Music flashback as I would do).

One problem with this, IMO, is that certain speech tags are very distinctive and evocative. If a character chirps her dialogue, the word "chirps" immediately makes me think of a small bird (and of cheetahs, because of that adorable chirpy sound they make). So now I'm distracted from the character's dialogue because I'm thinking of small birds and of cheetahs.

Likewise, if a character thunders his dialogue, I think of Thor. Hisses, snake. Barks, terrier. Howls, wolf. Maybe it's unimaginative of me to think of animals and birds and so on rather than imagining a person hissing or bleating instead, but that's where my mind goes. So the story has to be really good to keep me in the game even with the distraction of animal noises.

Another problem is that very often, these speech tags are unnecessary. If it's obvious that someone is shouting, I don't need to be told "he bellowed" or "he roared". And when people are croaking, squeaking, baying, trumpeting, mooing, trilling, etc., not only does it sound like five minutes before feeding time at the zoo, it implies a lack of confidence in one's writing. Dialogue that's strong enough doesn't need all these speech tags to spice it up.

That said, some speech tags are useful. I'm fine with tags like "whispered", because it's difficult if not impossible to tell from dialogue alone that someone is speaking very quietly. But most of the time, speech tags - especially the more florid and unusual ones - don't work for me. And IMO, good stories don't need them.

[jjsanguine]

Call me J, J Sanguine, or J Ayọ̀-Yímiká

Here are some tags for non fandom posts because for some reason it's easier to write a stream of consciousness on the internet than in my journal but when you have a small number of followers you're basically still talking to yourself anyway.

Jjsanguine

Tag me

Foodie sanguine

talking about cooking experiments

Yaanin' sanguine

anecdotes, rambling

Siblings: J Aqua he/him, J Verdant he/him, J Florid she/her. These are fake names but their names do all start with J IRL because Nigerians love a naming scheme. Yes I am J Sanguine even though my entire theme is blue. The extra j in my handle is for vibes

Parents: O Gilded, mother. C Ashen, father

Me and oftentimes my sister and occasionally my brother are watching

live blogging film and tv. I've been doing this on twitter but I want to have them somewhere where the search function actually works somewhat

Family film night

When the entire family watches films together, which is a very different vibe to the regular live blogging

Memento Mori :D

Stuff about my disabilities that I think is funny or mundane that would probably alarm my abled compatriots

Linguistics hobbyist

Jokes about linguistics

I got into linguistics because I happened to watch a bunch of teen shows where conlangs featured heavily before game of thrones was a huge thing so this should set the expectation for how serious I am about it

adjective + people e.g. queer people, GNC people, disabled people etc

Posts about people from specific marginalised groups

disability

stuff about my disabilities or disabilities in general

advice

it's advice

art advice

it's advice about all forms of art, including writing

ql (queer love)

about queer media not neccesarily bl

stories

short stories that i liked

art

art that i liked

I laughed

Funny posts

I heart digital art / I heart traditional art

Talking about the process of making these types of art

[dujour13]

WIP Wednesday

The Colphyr mine battle is coming together - many thanks to @forestdragoncat for the screenshots! Working title for the chapter is Solve/Coagula.

TW: Canon-typical violence, florid melodrama, Baphomet and despair

The blow utterly shattered his left hand. There was a shock, and a heartbeat later the agony lanced up his arm and tore his breath away. Another blow slammed him to the floor at the cloven hooves of his progenitor, hugging his destroyed limb to his chest, weakly backpedaling, but time slowed to a crawl and the vast head of Baphomet bent down and filled his vision and he could not move.

UNWORTHY. YOU ARE NOTHING. YOU ARE LESS THAN NOTHING: YOU OWE ME YOUR PITIFUL EXISTENCE. YOU ARE IN DEBT.

Baphomet’s burning yellow goat-eyes fixed him and he could not look away: bottomless, primal, an abyss of the labyrinthine wisdom of lies and cunning. The smell of his rancid breath seared his lungs. It was more than a stench—an ancient miasma of deceit and corruption.

I WILL CRUSH YOU TO DUST, I WILL DISSOLVE YOU YOU WILL SCRAPE AND CHEAT AND STEAL AND GRASP AT THE LEAST MISERABLE PITTANCE IN HOPE TO FILL THE HOLLOWNESS AND HURT CHAINED TO THE PEDESTAL OF MY THRONE

If his mouth had not been dry from fear he might have wanted to spit. But he could not help but hear the truth in it. Much as he hated the idea of being enslaved, he already had been—all his worthless, grasping life. With that giant burning goat’s head filling his mind, hope evaporated. He felt a collar squeeze, choking him, and his vision began to darken. He let go. It was right that he should die. He never should have existed.

Tagging: @undyingembers, @turbulentpumpkin43, @silversiren1101, @dmagedgoods, @spyridonya if you're up, and open tags to anybody who wants!

[merryfortune]

Unrequited Peonies

Written for FE Flash Fic Friday using the prompts Hanahaki & the Blazing Blade 

Title: Unrequited Peonies

Ship: Florina/Lyn

Fandom: Fire Emblem the Blazing Blade

Word Count: 1,023

Rating: T

Tags: Hanahaki, Emetophobia, Unrequited Love

   Florina couldn’t begin to describe it. Not without particularly floral prose or florid details. But she had to. For Lyn’s sake. She really didn’t want to worry Lyn, that was the least of everything and anything that Florina wanted to do.

   But it was peculiar. Supernatural. A curse, perhaps? Had she angered some mage somewhere? Nothing particularly sprang to Florina’s mind but it was difficult to think, especially when she had Lyn’s finger going through her hair, stroking her down from her illness and holding her back from her own ick.

   Florina vomited again.

   She emptied not the contents of her stomach, however. The last meal she ate, the last beverage that she drank. As awful as vomiting was, the taste of it, the wretch of it, that would be so much easier to explain than what Florina was actually vomiting.

   She was vomiting flowers.

   Gross, yucky, covered in her stomach acid flowers but flowers, nonetheless.

   They would have been beautiful had they not been growing in Florina’s stomach rather than the ground. 

   They were peonies, no less. Bulb after bulb, leaf after leaf, petal after petal, from the very depths of Florina’s body, she was vomiting peonies in their pastel bushels and Lyn was being very sympathetic about it.

   “Your being very brave right now, Florina. Your doing well.” Lyn cooed, concern saturated her voice.

   “I-I am…” Florina replied. She was shaky. Exhausted. 

   “Mmhm,” Lyn replied, “you are. Are you done?”

   “I-I think so…” Florina was hopeful, for a moment, but the hope barely lasted before the breath of her next syllable as she tried to speak.

   She hunkered over again, retching. Lyn sighed and surveiled their surroundings again. They had made camp in the hinterlands, far from home for either of them, it was a place not known for peonies to natively grow and to be sick in such a place, it would have been worrying for anyone but especially for a pair of soldiers.

   Florina vomited another flower and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Her saliva was sticky on her chin. The flowers tasted sweet, even in their atrocious state as soaked in bile.

   “...I wish I was done.” Florina murmured, upset.

   “No, I’m serious, you are doing so well right now. Just let it all out.” Lyn said.

   “There, there.” Lyn murmured and she massaged Florina’s scalp.

   Florina blushed. It felt so good. Like really good, it made the hair on her arms stand up. Lyn smiled and then Florina frowned. She really didn’t feel well, even with Lyn playing with her hair and trying to make her feel better. Her heart had skipped a beat.

   “I don’t feel very brave right now.” Florina complained and she felt her stomach threaten another spill. 

   “Well you must be,” Lyn said, far too joking for Florina’s taste, “because peonies symbolise bravery.”

   She held her stomach as she pulled back, tentatively okay. She sat on the back of her legs and sighed. Florina thought back to when this had all started. At first it was just a taste in her mouth, then a sensation in her stomach, like those of phantom butterflies but now it was all very real. She had the scratches from the stems of those flowers in her throat to prove it.

   After her pause, through her pout, Florina replied: “I doubt that.” 

   Though it wounded her, she was coming to loathe Lyn’s platitudes. She wasn’t the one with knees in the dirt, fingers in the grass, and with flowers where they most certainly should not have been. She stole a glance at Lyn, trying to frown but she could not hold that expression for Florina could never loathe Lyn. Her feeble attempts of trying, even amused Lyn, making her laugh and poke her face, calling her cute.

   All because, all in all, Florina loved Lyn. That’s why she could never loathe her, not in seriousness.

   “Even beyond your ailment,” Lyn added, “you have to be feeling brave right now. To shoulder this burden? There’s an old Sacae legend, you know, about maidens in love.”

   “Th-There is?” Florina blinked curiously.

    That threat from before, in the pit of her stomach, it gave a movement which pained her but having been swung at with swords and axes, shot at with arrows, Florina forced herself to hardly wince. Even though her instinct for danger, whilst often clouded with her phobias and anxieties, was usually good for anything particularly sharp and right now. It was warning her gravely. Seriously. And so, Florina cradled herself more protectively. 

   Yet Lyn seemed utterly oblivious to Florina’s body language. She continued on, nothing more, nothing less. Just sharing a fun fact.

   “There is.” Lyn confirmed with a nod of her head. “There is a story of a young girl who was so overwhelmed with her true love that she, too, began to vomit flowers. It was said to have started because there had been a drought and thus, she had no gifts to give to her would-be beau, so her body provided them for her.”

   “Oh, um… Interesting.” Florina squeaked. “And what happened to her?”

   “Well, unsurprisingly, her beau thought she had a curse and rejected her gifts but the flowers… They wouldn’t stop growing inside of her, she couldn’t stop vomiting up, eventually she couldn’t eat and so… withered away. She, uh, Florina… She died, unfortunately.”

   Lyn’s words struck a terrible chord with Florina. She paled. 

   “But that won’t happen to me… right?” Florina asked in the tiniest voice.

   “Of course not,” Lyn replied, blithe, smiling, “after all, any guy would be stupid to turn you down. You’ve come out of your shell a lot, as well. So, who is the lucky fella?”

   Florina’s mouth dried. She couldn’t bring herself to say who just that lucky person was. After all, she was looking at the one who had enchanted her. In more ways than one, it did seem. And, for a moment, Florina was almost grateful that she didn’t have to reply. She vomited again, sudden, yet more peonies, though into her lap and to the secret of a breaking heart.

[nol-an]

when our stars aligned || n. patrick

hello everyone! i’m super excited to finally be posting this slow burn, friends-to-lovers fic that has been in the works for almost a month now!

grab a drink and some snacks, this one’s 12.5k words (and not proofread oops)! as always, feedback is appreciated <3 enjoy!

__________

+ her

Your sweater-clad figure collapsed into your plush mattress as soon as you finished your last assignment for the day. After a hell week of university, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your night de-stressing and indulging in the bottle of wine that had been calling your name since the beginning of the week. You wanted nothing more than to catch up on the Bachelorette —because who doesn’t love trash TV— and to coil yourself in blankets for the rest of the night. 

On the other hand, your best-friend-slash-roommate, Maya, had different plans. She was fully convinced that the only proper remedy to your school-induced slump was a night out on the town. However, you knew that Maya’s plans for you would really just result in you third-wheeling her and her boyfriend, Joel. You don’t even need to ask your friend to know that Joel would be coming along too because the two were a package deal. Although you don’t mind Joel and think he’s a wonderful match for your long-time friend, the last thing you need is to be awkwardly tagging along with the sometimes overly-affectionate couple.

After a back-and-forth negotiation that seemed to last hours, you finally agreed to Maya’s proposition after she offered to wash the dishes and take out the trash for the next two weeks. You still expressed that you wouldn’t be happy if you came across any Bachelorette spoilers while you were out with Maya and Joel, but eventually, your mind became occupied by thoughts of what to wear. Deciding not to think too much into your outfit, you settled for a Pittsburgh Penguins pullover and your comfiest pair of black jeans. You sprayed yourself with perfume and glanced in your mirror one last time before leaving your room with the hopes of returning to your tempting bed soon.

As Joel’s car pulled into the parking lot of your and Maya’s apartment complex, you soon noticed a figure in the passenger seat. Squinting to see if you recognized the man, all you could deduce was that he had long hair and florid cheeks. Turning to Maya in confusion, your best friend looked unbothered as a grin spread across her face at the sight of her boyfriend. You trailed behind her as she jogged towards Joel’s car. She promptly gave him a peck on his cheek before giving the stranger in the passenger seat a hug. Huh, so maybe he wasn’t a stranger after all.

It only took you a few seconds afterwards to realize what was going on.

You were going to kill Maya.

As if she read your mind, your best friend waved you over to the car. Deciding to play nice for the sake of Maya and her excitement, you plastered on your best I-don’t-want-to-be-here-but-you-don’t-know-that smile, and greeted the two guys.

“Y/N, this is Nolan, one of Joel’s friends,” Maya explained. “I know you said you didn’t wanna third wheel, so Joel and I, being the wonderful friends we are, took what you said to heart,” she laughed as she watched your smile twitch a little.

It always took you a while to warm up to strangers and being your best friend of three years, Maya knew you were going to give her an earful after the night was over. So, she figured she’d at least have some fun while she was at it. Your eyes sent daggers in her direction before you waved at Joel and stuck your hand out to greet Nolan.

Other than his small smile that you would’ve missed if you weren’t as observant, Nolan didn’t give much indication that he wanted to be here, either. Great. You couldn’t read his expressions, but you hoped to god that this night wouldn’t be as awkward as you think it’s going to be.

Shortly after the introductions, you and Nolan are squeezed into the back of Joel’s car as him and Maya bicker over who should get the aux. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Nolan, who looks quite amused at the couple’s antics. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to break the ice, you attempted to start a conversation with Nolan.

“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve been stuck in the same space as Joel and Maya, either?” you joked.

He chuckled and angled his body a little closer towards you. “Unfortunately it’s not. If I’m being honest, this is not how I envisioned my Friday night going.”

Immediately processing his own words, a blush formed across his cheeks. “I- that’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m sure you’re a wonderful person, but Joel told me that we were getting food with Maya. I didn’t know this,” he used his right hand to gesture around the car, “was his actual plan,” he explained.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips, your eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m in the same boat. No one mentioned that you were coming, but honestly, I’m glad I’m not third-wheeling because I wanna puke every time they get too lovey-dovey.”

Nolan nodded in agreement, “You know what, Y/N? I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Relieved that Nolan was a lot less intimidating than you initially thought, you agreed with his comment and thanked the gods that this night was starting to look up.

“But there is one issue,” Nolan spoke up.

Your raised eyebrows cued him to speak again.

“I don’t know how I feel about that Pens sweatshirt of yours.”

+ him

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” an amused Kevin Hayes emerged from his room. He’d been living with Nolan for quite some time now, but the last thing he expected was to wake up to the sight of his roommate organizing their apartment, dust swiffer and all. There was even a vase of fresh flowers that Kevin sure as hell didn’t buy or remember seeing last night.

“Isn’t it fucking obvious, Hayesy? I’m cleaning the place,” Nolan deadpanned.

“Ok firstly, no shit. I was hoping you’d explain why you’re cleaning. I didn’t even know we had this much cleaning supplies,” Kevin quipped back, glancing over at the array of window and wood cleaner that was haphazardly strewn across the kitchen counter.

“Y/N is coming over,” Nolan curtly responded. He didn’t need to turn his focus away from scrubbing away the stove top’s stains to know that his roommate had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I thought you said the two of you were just friends?”

“Can’t friends hang out?” Nolan retaliated.

“Sure, they can. But why are you disinfecting this whole place? Teeks comes over all the time and you never do this for him,” Kevin pointed out. He knew Nolan enough to know that you weren’t “just a friend.” Nolan talked about you way too much for that to be the case.

“It’s the first time she’s coming over. I just don’t want her thinking we live in a pigsty,” Nolan started, “which is gonna be a little difficult considering you leave your shit all around the place. Plus, don’t act like you’ve never cleaned the place up when you’ve had someone over.”

Kevin was having a little too much fun messing with Nolan. “Okay, first of all, that was one time. And it was for a girl I liked,” Kevin enunciated his last word.

Nolan knew Kevin had a point, but he’d be damned if he let Hayesy know that. Nevertheless, Nolan’s silence gave it away, and that was all Kevin needed to rest his case.

“Deny your feelings all you want, but I know you like her — even if you don’t even know it yourself. Don’t be surprised when I say ‘I-told-you-so,’” Kevin laughed as he headed towards the front door. “m’Gonna head out, but text me if you need anything. Maybe confess your feelings for Y/N while you’re at it.”

Nolan flipped off his roommate. Sometimes he was sure that Kevin was a middle-schooler trapped in a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t you and him be friends without feelings being involved? Nolan was sure you only saw him in a platonic light and he was perfectly fine with that. If anything, he was glad to have met you — in the few months you’ve been in his life, you’ve become a breath of fresh air from his circle of Flyers friends. Sure, he didn’t think the two of you would talk again after the little number that Maya and Joel pulled, but he was glad that his friendship with you bloomed. Not only was he glad to know someone else to tolerate Maya and Joel’s shenanigans with, but he enjoyed how you made him feel like he didn’t have to maintain any facade. Your welcoming aura appreciated Nolan as the goofy, indie music-obsessed Winnipeg native — not a Flyers centerman who was more often than not, under the microscope of Philly and NHL media. He was perfectly content with the friendship and appreciated the soothing presence you offered. Wasn’t that enough of an indication that the two of you were just friends?

Within the next twenty minutes, three knocks on the door vibrated through the apartment, and Nolan rushed to the door to greet you. A smile gleamed on your face and you greeted Nolan with a hug. Although it was your first time hanging out at Nolan’s place — the two of you usually stuck to more public locations — nothing about the exchange was awkward and for that, Nolan was extremely thankful. He knew his quiet demeanor could sometimes scare people away, but you didn’t seem to mind it. Instead, you were patient with him and understood that the two of you would become more comfortable around each other as time wore on.

After setting your bag down on the key table, you casually dove into a story about how you nearly couldn’t make it to Nolan’s apartment because you were convinced you lost your keys.

It was nice, nothing felt stiff and Nolan was relieved that the two of you were able to skip the formalities that usually occur when someone visits for the first time.

Once you wrapped up your story, you finally took the chance to look around Nolan’s home. From the look on your face, Nolan knew you were expecting the place to look different. Whether or not that look was a good thing, however, he wasn’t sure.

“Nols, if I’m gonna be honest here, I was not expecting you and Kevin to have such an organized place,” you laughed, your light-hearted tone indicating that you meant it in the nicest way possible.

Releasing the breath he was holding, Nolan chuckled a bit. “Well, don’t get used to it. It’s only this clean like once a month,” he laughed while scratching the back of his neck. He almost contemplated telling you all the trouble he went through to make sure the apartment was clean for you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him not to. Probably a good call. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Yea, water would be great,” you sat on one of the kitchen’s bar stools and watched Nolan pad over to the fridge. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as you peered into the relatively empty fridge.

The hockey player rolled a chilled water bottle over to you, perplexed by your reaction. “If you have something to say, say it to my face,” Nolan attempted to intimidatingly say. His cheery voice and sheepish smile gave away his tough-guy act, though.

“Just wondering how you have like three things in your fridge. What are you supposed to make with two carrots and eggs?” you chuckled.

Nolan feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that my ultra-busy schedule doesn’t let me go grocery shopping much. You should be honored that I was able to fit you into my agenda.” It wasn’t a lie that time didn’t permit Nolan to go shopping for food often, but he knew that if you wanted to hang, he would’ve found a way to make it work. But that’s normal, right? Friends can be excited to hang out with friends, right?

“So I’m guessing your pantry is just as bad?” you inquired.

“Ever the detective, Y/N,” Nolan confirmed. He opened the pantry door, gesturing to the several empty shelves.

Seconds later, the two of you got into a conversation about your favorite snacks. Nolan wasn’t sure how he found so much entertainment from talking about cookies and chips, but he wasn’t complaining. The discussion eventually moved over to the living space of the apartment, where you and Nolan settled on watching “How to Get Away With Murder” before promptly resuming your increasingly-heated debate on the best snacks.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore, Nols. How could you possibly like goldfish more than cheez-its?” you seriously questioned.

“They’re the superior snack, can’t do anything about that. That’s like asking me to choose between indie and country music, no competition,” Nolan shrugged.

Promising Nolan that you’d one day convince him otherwise, you let the conversation slowly fade out as the show started. The next few hours passed by in a blur. There were some side-conversations here, and there, but the two of you were mainly focused on the show and enjoying each other’s presence.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you and Nolan started sharing the same blanket. Minutes later, you were curled into his side, your head resting lightly on his right shoulder. You were so close to him that you could feel his body rumble with laughter every time you made a witty comment. Despite the position the two of you were in, things didn’t go further than that. You didn’t think much of it and based on Nolan’s concentration on the show, it didn’t seem like he gave it much thought, either.

It was nice. More than nice, really. You became so comfortable that you had to keep yourself from dozing off. Every once in a while, Nolan’s hand would play with your hair, his gentle movements nearly lulling you to sleep.

Eventually, you two found a good stopping point and you told Nolan that you should start heading home, not wanting to overstay your visit. Although Nolan protested, you insisted that you would definitely find another time to see him soon and that he should hang out with Kevin, who had gotten home just a few minutes ago.

“Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Yea, of course. Don’t watch any episodes without me, okay?” you said, sticking out your pinky to make Nolan promise.

“Only if you bring over some of your homemade chocolate-chip cookies that you talked about earlier,” he bargained.

“Deal,” you waved goodbye to Nolan one last time before slipping out the door. “Tell Hayesy I said hi,” you hollered from down the hall.

Speaking of the devil himself, Kevin walked over to Nolan once he shut the door. Before Kevin could even wipe the smirk off his face, Nolan stopped him.

“Just friends, Hayesy,” Nolan reaffirmed.

+ him

Another few months passed on, and everything proceeded as normal. You and Nolan’s bond inevitably grew, and he could confidently call you one of his best friends. You two made an effort to hang out at least every other week, and your plans ranged from short weekend getaways to study sessions where Nolan attempted to help you cram for tests. Nolan loved every second he spent with you, and he was more than grateful that Maya and Joel had introduced you to him. Eventually, the hang-out regimen that you and Nolan had developed started wavering as the universe had different plans for you two. You had totally forgotten about a major ten page paper you had to do and with the season starting soon, Nolan was back to practices and workout sessions nearly every day.

You two texted and FaceTimed, though, so not all was a lost cause. Especially for Nolan, it felt as if he was spending every minute of his free time talking to or texting you — not that he minded it, anyway. The text conversations were always light-hearted and mostly consisted of funny tweets and song recommendations. Even when you and Nolan called, your minds that were typically flooded with thoughts of school or hockey became more relaxed upon hearing the other’s voice.

After wrapping up a morning skate with Travis, Nolan checked his phones for any notifications.

Hayesy: Y/N is here. Not sure why but she was looking for you.

With panicked eyes, Nolan tried to think of all of the reasons why you’d be at his apartment. The blood nearly drained out of his face at the thought of making plans with you and accidentally forgetting, but he reassured himself that there was no way that was the case.

Is she okay???? Nolan quickly texted before running into the showers.

Nolan had never showered and changed that quickly, and he was almost positive that he put his shirt on backwards as he ran to his car. He mentally cursed Kevin, who for some reason thought it was acceptable to send him a cryptic text about you without any follow-up. You were usually good about texting Nolan about any updates to your life, so Nolan couldn’t help when his mind started conjuring worst-case scenarios.

Once Nolan got to his apartment complex, he sprinted up dozens of flights of stairs thinking that they’d be faster than the elevator. However, coupled with his growing soreness from his earlier workout, each step on the stairs sent rays of pain through his legs and a regret for thinking the stairs would be a good idea.

After it felt like he had run a marathon, the hockey player finally reached his door. He frustratingly searched for his keys, hoping to god you were okay.

Nolan swung the door open with so much force that he was almost sure he’d have to tighten the screws on its hinges. “Y/N?” Nolan called. His frantic eyes searched for your figure, but he was instead met with the sight of his roommate.

“You just missed her,” Kevin replied from the kitchen. In his hand was what looked like a cookie, and behind him was at least three grocery bags. “I told her to stay because I figured you’d be home soon, but she seemed like she was in a rush. Something about a paper she had,” Kevin elaborated, his mouth full of the cookies. “Did you run here from the rink or something? You look like shit,” Hayesy jokingly noted.

Nolan rolled his eyes at his roommate and sighed, genuinely relieved to know that you were alright. As soon as any of the fears of you being hurt left his system, Nolan started thinking about how he would’ve been able to see you had Travis not persuaded him to run extra drills. It had felt like centuries since he last saw you, and seeing you even just for a second would have undoubtedly made his day better. Dammit, Travis.

Deciding he didn’t want to endure any of Kevin’s teasing, Nolan suppressed his disappointment and tried to subtly get more details out of his roommate.

“She didn’t text me about coming over. What did she need?”

“Well, after making fun of us for our empty fridge and pantry, she said gave me all of these bags,” Kevin gestured to the bags behind him. “Said she visited a grocery store nearby and figured she could get some stuff for us, too,” he continued.

A smile graced Nolan’s face as he recalled the conversation you and he shared about his grocery shopping (or lack thereof) habits.

“She also brought over these cookies she made, but I think I’m gonna have to take these for myself,” Kevin grinned, reaching for another cookie from the tupperware container. “Why do my ‘just-friends’ never bake me cookies?” he nearly moaned at the taste of the treats.

“Maybe because you have no restraint and eat cookies that are meant for your roommate, you jerk,” Nolan remarked.

“Hey, I was being nice by telling you she brought these cookies over. If I really wanted to, I could’ve hid these. You can have a bite, though,” he stuck out his already half-eaten cookie in front of Nolan’s face.

Flipping Kevin off, Nolan walked over to the counter with the bags. Pulling out their contents, he slowly started placing everything in the pantry and fridge. In the second bag, he found a box of cheez-its with a small piece of paper tacked on the top.

Doing you a favor by buying you these, no need to thank me. Miss ya lots <3

Under the message, your name was messily etched onto the lined paper along with a smiley face. Nolan could almost hear your feigned-snarkiness through your note.

Once all of the groceries were put away, Nolan returned to his room. He immediately plugged in his phone before pressing your name under his FaceTime contacts. It only took a couple of rings before you picked up. Your hair was in a loose ponytail, large glasses covering your face. You looked exhausted from the stress you were undoubtedly experiencing because of your soon-to-be-due paper, but your positive personality radiated through Nolan’s phone screen nonetheless.

“Should I feel guilty that my snack collection was so pathetic that a busy college student felt compelled to take time out of their day to buy me food?” Nolan joked.

“I felt guilty that we had been friends for months before I found out that your pantry was that pathetic,” you laughed. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. I was in the area and I know you’ve been super busy recently so I figured I could help you out. The cheez-its were the first thing I saw in the store and I thought of you and that conversation we had when I came to your place for the first time,” you sheepishly responded.

Every few seconds, your eyes would dart back to your laptop, where you were taking notes. Nolan knew that you would never want him to think that he was calling you at a bad time, but the laptop’s reflections on your glasses gave away your act. Of course he felt bad, but he was momentarily distracted by the warm feeling that overcame him. It was such a sweet gesture, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t get butterflies at the sound of your confession.

“Y/N you didn’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it. Thanks for the cookies, too. Pretty sure Hayesy destroyed half of the container before I even got home,” Nolan laughed.

“Oh, gosh,” you started, “in hindsight I probably should’ve texted you to let you know I was coming over, but I wanted to surprise you.”

Upon hearing you words, Nolan’s beaming smile grew impossibly wider. And to his dismay, the butterflies came back for a second time.

“Hey, I gotta go but I promise I’ll text you soon. My prof is out for blood with this assignment,” you groaned. “Maybe we can do dinner at your place now that you have more than two things in your fridge.”

Nolan laughed off your banter and nodded in agreement. He felt like a giddy school girl. “Yea, yea of course. We can pick up on ‘How to Get Away With Murder’ while we’re at it.”

“It’s a date,” you flashed him a thumbs up. “Oh, and I think your shirt’s on backwards,” you giggled and tugged at the collar of your own sweater to emphasize your point. Luckily for Nolan, you hung up before you could see his embarrassed expression.

Had it not been for the fact that you called your upcoming plans with Nolan a “date,” he would have cared more about his shirt issue. But, here he was laying in his bed and already counting down the days until he’d get to see you again.

He knew you meant it as a friend date, but could you blame him for envisioning what it’d be like to go on a romantic date with you? He wanted to bake homemade cookies with you, run his fingers through your hair when you were stressed from school, and become consumed in pointless conversations about anything and everything with you. Hell, he even wanted to help you proofread your school papers, even if he’d have no idea what the fuck the Pygmalion Effect is. He adored so many things about you and was more than willing to jump through hoops and hurdles if it meant he could be your source of happiness and support.

And that’s when Nolan knew he was in trouble. He had never let his mind drift this far, and he usually had enough self-restraint to stop himself from envisioning you as his girlfriend. He knew he needed to stop before he dug a hole for himself that he wouldn’t be able to get out of. But if he was being honest, Nolan quite liked the warm feeling he had from the thought of calling you his.

Oh god.

Nolan was so far gone for you. Kevin knew it, his teammates probably knew it from the dozens of times he managed to bring you up in conversations, and now he certainly knew it for himself. What he didn’t know, however, was if you felt the same feeling of anticipation in the pit of your stomach at the thought of being more than just friends.

+ her

After your FaceTime call with Nolan, you finally gathered enough motivation to finish your paper. You weren’t sure if it was because of your excitement to see Nolan or because you were sick of staring at your screen, but you were nonetheless relieved when you sent off the finalized version of your work.

The two of you eventually settled on meeting at his place on Saturday night, which was only a couple of days away.

If you were being frank with yourself, you knew that you were catching feelings for Nolan, but how could you not? He has immaculate music taste, is a great listener, and always knows the best ways to make your off-days better. Not long after you met him for the first time, you had a feeling that it wouldn’t take long for you to want a more-than-friends relationship with him. In fact, it was frightening to acknowledge how much better your life has been now that Nolan is involved. You were a little embarrassed that he was able to sweep you off your feet as quickly as he did, but you couldn’t control how you felt. Well, that’s at least what you kept telling yourself.

You weren’t entirely sure how to deal with your feelings for Nolan. You relied on familiarity and stability in your life, and if Nolan didn’t reciprocate your feelings towards him, there was no doubt all hell would break loose — at least for you. Per every rom-com you’ve ever watched, you were fully aware that unrequited feelings, in most cases, was a one-way ticket to a doomed and awkward friendship. If confessing your feelings towards an indifferent Nolan meant that your friendship with him would be jeopardized, you would gladly keep your thoughts to yourself.

It was hard, though. Sometimes he treated you like you were the only person in the room, and other times, it felt pretty clear that he only saw you in an extremely platonic light. Of course none of your friends could tell the difference between your interactions with the centerman because they always teased the two of you about needing to finally date each other. However, his mixed-signals convinced you that you had a chance with him on some nights and that you were overthinking everything the next.

As much as you wanted to tell Maya about your dilemma, you knew that she was terrible at keeping secrets. In any other circumstance, you would’ve told her that you liked someone the minute you found out. However, considering how her boyfriend’s a teammate of Nolan, it would have been game over if Joel knew. As much as he prided himself on having a tighter seal on secrets than Maya, he wasn’t much of an improvement from your best friend. You considered telling your other friends because you desperately needed someone to vent-out your feelings to, but you didn’t have the energy to explain how you ended up being wrapped around the fingers of a Philadelphia Flyers player.

So, here you were, in bed and confused. You were counting down the days until you’d get to see Nolan again, but you also wish you had more time to figure out what to do about your feelings. Part of you told you that you could handle pushing away your emotions for the few hours you would be with Nolan. The other (and more obnoxious) part of your brain, though, sent blaring red sirens through your body at the thought of your Plan A. It warned you that internalizing your feelings was a terrible idea and that no matter how tempting it would be to pretend like you weren’t falling for Nolan, maybe it’d be better to just rip off the bandaid and tell him.

You went back and forth between your two plans and were sure that if anyone could take a look into your brain, they would be faced with thoughts that were racing around at a million miles per hour. (And they’d probably  have pity on you.)

As if someone was witnessing your inner turmoil fetter within you in real time, it seemed like your prayers for more time were answered when you fell ill with a cold Saturday morning.

Sure, it wasn’t ideal. You sure as hell were not enjoying your congestion and occasional chills, but at least you had plenty of time to sort things out. It was disappointing to know that you wouldn’t get to see Nolan, but he was extremely understanding of your issue. He reassured you that you shouldn’t feel guilty for bailing, especially since you were sick. He even made you promise that you would get plenty of rest and that you wouldn’t apologize for something you couldn’t control.

With those words from Nolan, you took your promise to heart and slipped into a much-needed slumber.

+ him

“So, Patty, care to explain to Teeks what you were planning to use these candles for?” Hayesy teased as he plucked a tealight candle from its spot on the kitchen table.

Kevin knew you and Nolan had made plans for dinner, and he also happened to know that Nolan finally came to terms with his feelings for you. As much as he chirped the younger hockey player, he was glad that Nolan wasn’t beating around the bush anymore. Kevin adored you and had no doubt that you were a perfect match for his friend.

Travis, on the other hand, looked extremely confused. With furrowed eyebrows, he shifted his focus from the television to Nolan, who was sending death glares at his roommate.

“Well, I, um-” Nolan was cut off by Kevin.

“Patty here was gonna have a super-romantic, candle-lit dinner with the girl he’s been pining over for ages,” Kevin excitedly cut to the chase. If a bystander didn’t know any better, they’d think that Kevin was more ecstatic about the dinner than Nolan.

Those words definitely caught Travis’ attention. He got up from his spot from the couch and joined his two friends in the kitchen. “Wow, Pats,” he playfully shoved his friend's shoulder, “took you long enough. Was fully convinced I was gonna have to do something about your weak game.”

Nolan’s eyes widened upon hearing TK’s comments. Was he really that obvious?

He could barely comprehend his feelings for you just a couple of days ago, and he definitely didn’t tell Travis about these newly-discovered feelings yet. He didn’t even plan to tell Kevin about it. He fully intended to have you be the first to know, but Kevin managed to get Nolan to crack.

“Ok, fuck off,” Nolan mumbled. Sure, he was a little slow at realizing his feelings, but better late than never. “Y/N was supposed to come over for dinner tonight, but she’s sick,” Nolan explained. He purposefully left out the fact that he was toying with the idea of confessing his feelings for you after the now-cancelled dinner.

“Oh shit,” Travis was the first to speak up.

“Does that mean you’ll be cooking for us instead?” Kevin added, wiggling his eyebrows towards Nolan and fist-bumping Travis.

“No, I don’t know what it means, but I can tell you right now that there is no way in hell I’m cooking for you two slobs.” Nolan replied. “I was thinking of bringing soup over to her place as a surprise or something.”

At that, both Travis and Kevin’s faces told Nolan that they needed him to elaborate.

“What? She told me that she was craving soup, and Maya is on that road trip with Joel so I figured…” Nolan’s voice gradually decreased in volume.

Travis was the first to interject, “I, for one, think that’s a great idea. Gotta roll with the punches, you know?”

Of course, no conversation between the three guys would be completed without Kevin’s incessant teasing. “We can barely tolerate you when we’re fully healthy — what makes you think Y/N is gonna want to see you while she’s sick?” he chuckled.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Nolan groaned.

“You know you love me,” Hayesey playfully blew a kiss in Nolan’s direction. “Here, let TK and me help you with the soup. We gotta make sure it doesn’t make Y/N feel worse than she already does,” he suggested.

+ him & her

Staying true to his words, Kevin made sure Nolan’s attempt at making homemade soup went smoothly. After getting a thumbs-up from both of his teammates, Nolan filled some soup containers up and headed over to your place. He opted out from texting you about his arrival just in case you were sleeping and banked on the possibility that you still had a spare key under the small flower pot in front of your door.

Although Nolan nagged you for the key placement and insisted that it was a terrible hiding place for a key, he was grateful that it was still there when he arrived to your apartment’s door. Quietly letting himself in, he set the soup on the kitchen island before softly calling your name.

He quietly treaded to your room, which he’d only been in twice out of the dozens of times he had come over. Once he poked his head into your bedroom, he couldn’t stop his heart from overflowing with adoration for you. You were swaddled in a mountain of pillows and blankets. Your soft snores flowed through the room, and your messy hair partially covered your content face. You looked like you were at peace, and Nolan was glad to see that you were resting up.

The sight of you filled him with joy and he silently thanked his past-self for not calling and waking you up. Snapping himself out of his trance, Nolan had to remind himself that he was probably being extremely creepy. You probably wouldn’t let him live it down if you caught him, and he knew he wouldn’t have any excuse for his compromising position. Well, other than the fact that he was hopelessly falling for you and that everything you did made his feelings for you increasingly clear.

With it being close to dinnertime, Nolan figured that it wouldn’t be much longer until you woke up. He returned back into the living space of your apartment and found a comfortable place on the suede couch as he waited.

Sure enough, 15 minutes later, you emerged from your bedroom. “Nolan?” you softly murmured. The two syllables were coated in drowsiness, and Nolan swore he would’ve done anything to hear you utter his name like that again.

He looked up from his phone and suddenly had to remind himself how to breathe.

You were wrapped in a wool blanket, but a sliver of your sweater peaked out from the part where your blanket couldn’t fully cover. He’d recognize the black and orange pattern anywhere, but what stuck out to him was the “19” that was spread across the corner of your sweatshirt. Well, it was actually his sweatshirt if he wanted to get technical. His heart was beating out of his chest at the sight of you wearing his clothes and if he wasn’t sure if he was falling in love with you before, he was definitely sure now.

“I-, hi, Y/N. M’sorry for coming over like this, but I knew you said you wanted soup, and my mom has the really great chicken noodle soup recipe, and Teeks and Hayesy even helped me even though I’m not really sure if that was the best idea because Teeks almost mistook cinnamon for cayenne but-” Nolan started to ramble. He wasn’t sure why he was so flustered. It was the first time he’d gone out of his way this much for a girl and he was subconsciously stalling just in case you might’ve perceived his act of kindness as something that was way too creepy and something that supposed just-friends don’t do.

“Nols,” you started, “that’s so sweet of you, but you didn’t have to do that! I could’ve just sent for an UberEats so you wouldn’t have had to go through all of that trouble for me.”

Nolan wanted to stop you and let you know that he’d swim across the Atlantic Ocean for you. However, he settled for something a little less revealing. “Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise I wanted to do this. Plus if I didn’t, how would I have gotten to see you wearing my number?” he smirked.

Your gaze slowly descended to your body, where you were in fact wearing Nolan’s sweater. He forgot to take it home the last time he was over at your place, and you couldn’t help that it looked extremely comfy. A rush of blood and warmth flooded through your face. “I started wearing it because I missed you and it smells like your cologne,” you cringed for including that last detail, “but it’s actually so soft and I don’t think I’ll be returning this,” you tightened the blanket around you to emphasize your point.

Were you trying to kill Nolan? His brain was overloaded with emotions and this was probably the nail in the coffin. This was it for him. In the few seconds following your explanation, he knew he’d do everything in his power to get to see you like this for the rest of his life. He was sure a younger version of himself would’ve laughed at him for being so dramatic, but he also knew that his younger-self hadn’t met you yet.

“You pull off the sweater better than I do, so you can keep it,” he cheekily smiled. His eyes couldn’t decide if they’d rather look at your sleep-pampered face or his sweatshirt that engulfed you.

“What rom-com movie did you pull that line from?” you chuckled.

He dramatically gasped, “I’m truly offended.” He also took note of how you’ve been standing in the same place for minutes, “Also, why are you standing so far away? Promise I don’t bite,” Nolan joked while he reached out in your direction with grabby hands.

“I don’t wanna get you sick. Don’t know how your coach would feel if you caught the cold with the season so close,” you reasoned with a playful tone.

“That’s a later problem. Please c’mere, I missed you too much,” his eyes pleaded with yours. How could you say no when he had that look on his face?

You hesitatingly approached Nolan, still trying to keep your distance from him. You genuinely didn’t want to get him sick, but you were also still deciding about whether or not you wanted to bury away your feelings for him or let him know what was on your mind. You weren’t expecting Nolan to come over, and you were now wishing that you spent some of your snooze time on sorting out your Nolan dilemma.

Taking a few strides forward, you reached the coffee table that was only a meter or so away from Nolan. Apparently that distance was still too far for Nolan, though, because he grabbed for your hand and tugged you into his body. His scent instantly overcame your senses and you promptly relaxed into his hold. Your body was awkwardly positioned over his but his tight grip on you, which shifted down to your hips, gave no sign that Nolan wanted you to get off of him. With this signal, you repositioned yourself so each of your legs found a home on either side of his lap. His arms wrapped around your body, and your chest was pressed against his as you nuzzled your head between the junction of his neck and shoulder.

For a while, neither of you said anything. It was a serene moment and truthfully, neither of you needed to exchange words to express how much you both cared for one another. There was no better way to make up for lost time than to fully appreciate the other’s presence, and neither of you were in a rush to get out of the situation that you two were in.

Occasionally, Nolan would pepper kisses along your hairline and twirl your hair along his fingers. Praying that you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating, he tried his best to calm the thoughts that were incessantly running through his mind. Nolan never wanted this delicate moment to end for multiple reasons. Perhaps the biggest reason, though, was because he was trying to formulate the right way to tell you how he felt about you. He wasn’t sure if he’d find a more perfect time than this one, and he wanted to make sure that everything he was going to say to you would properly express how much he cared for you and wanted you in his life as a more-than-friend.

Another few moments passed before he finally mustered up the courage to break the silence.

“I love you,” he breathed out.

He waited for your response, but was only met with a deafening silence. Unfortunately for Nolan, he never got to see your reaction to his confession because your drowsy state seemed to pull you into another sleeping trance just as quickly as Nolan spoke the three words.

+ her

Following the night that Nolan had come over to bring you soup, the two of you became a lot more physically affectionate. Whether it was cuddles on your couch or hugs that lingered for a little too long, you knew you were chartering into dangerous territory. You didn’t treat any of your guy friends in the same way you did Nolan, and somewhere along the road, you knew this shift in dynamic was precariously dancing between the line of platonic and romantic.

Maya and Joel picked up on it, too. Nearly every chance they got, the two attempted to get you or Nolan to finally confess that things had changed. They were never successful, however. Nolan would always brush off Joel’s inquiries and play off the situation. As for yourself, you ultimately decided to keep your feelings to yourself, too scared to lose the special connection you had with Nolan.

You had done a decent job of keeping your feelings locked away in the depths of your heart until the season opener for the Flyers.

Nolan had asked you to go, and as much as you would love nothing more than to root on your best friend, you were called into work at the last minute. You tried your best to see if any of your other co-workers could pick up the shift, but you were stuck watching the game from your phone as you begrudgingly got through your shift. You couldn’t forget the way Nolan’s excited expression fell after you told him you couldn’t make it and even though your shift was scheduled to end during the game’s third period, there was no way you would have made it to the Wells Fargo Center in time.

After your shift, you took out your phone and swiped through your friend’s SnapChat stories. Since Maya went to the game to support Joel, you had the apartment to yourself. Clicking on your best friend’s name on the app, you smiled as you watched the video that she’d put on her story. The Flyers clinched their first win for the season, and based on Maya’s story, it looked like everyone had gone to a nearby bar to celebrate. Despite the fact that her story was a video of Joel, that’s not what caught your attention.

Instead, it was the sight of a man in the background, his arms draped around a girl who was cozily perched upon his lap. His chin was resting on her shoulder, and you knew from the unmistakable rosy cheeks that the man was Nolan. Although the image lasted no more than a few seconds as the frame of Maya’s camera moved, you suddenly felt yourself become nauseous. Your fingers moved by themselves, torturing you as you watched the video over and over again to make sure you weren’t playing mind games on yourself.

You weren’t sure how to react. A mix of hurt and jealousy swarmed your body, sending shivers of confusion through it. You knew you had no right to be so upset. After all, Nolan and you never had a conversation about where you two stood. You two were still just friends — even though you’ve known for a while that your interactions with Nolan have meant much more to you than you’d let on. For all you knew, you could have been mistaking Nolan’s physical affection for something more. For all you knew, the physical affection never made Nolan’s heart beat race in the same way it did with yours.

Nolan wasn’t yours, but you so badly wish he were. You became increasingly frustrated at yourself for letting your heart believe that there was something more between you and Nolan. You knew you were playing a risky game — a game that you had just lost, because it became painfully apparent that Nolan only ever saw you as a friend. The video continued to play, though your clouded vision and mind drowned out its volume. A teardrop slipped down your heated cheeks and pattered onto your phone screen. You berated yourself with what-ifs, wondering if you could have done anything different to be able to call Nolan yours. Maybe it was never meant to be, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t beat yourself up over the situation.

Ditching your plans to immediately sleep after getting home from work, you made a beeline to the kitchen’s wine cabinet. You now let your tears run freely and let yourself drown in affliction. You didn’t even flinch when Maya and Joel entered the apartment, who both rushed to you with concern after they noticed your tear-splotched shirt and face that was swollen and red from crying.

Not used to seeing their typically calm and collected friend in such a state of disarray, the couple wasn’t quite sure how to approach the issue. For what felt like the first time in forever, you decided to be transparent with your thoughts. You had spent so long compartmentalizing your feelings that the need to let them out and the countless glasses of wine had you admitting your feelings for Nolan to the two. You didn’t want their pity, and you were thankful that they let you speak without interruption. Your words, though slurred, clearly explained how you felt foolish for falling for Nolan in the first place. You explained how your friendship with Nolan had evolved into something much more for you and how you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t love him as more than just a friend anymore.

At the end of your spiel, Maya and Joel shared a knowing look with each other. Maya looked like she was fuming, though she tried her best to maintain composure as she pulled you into a hug. You almost missed the way Joel cursed under his breath, calling Nolan an idiot. They were so sure Nolan had felt something towards you, and weren’t sure how to respond when you drunkenly asked what you did wrong for Nolan to be oblivious to the way that you only had eyes for him.

As much as they loved Nolan, they adored you just as much and felt terrible for the pain that you were going through.

Apparently not terrible enough to postpone movie nights, however. Some time down the road, you, Nolan, Maya, Joel, Travis, and Kevin made a habit of gathering for a few hours each week to watch movies and hang out. You almost forgot about it in your moping state until Maya brought up a few days later that it was your and Maya’s turn to host. The blood drained out of your face when she reminded you, and your first instinct was to come up with an excuse to miss the night at all costs. You didn’t want to ruin the budding tradition, but you weren’t ready to see Nolan either.

As much as it hurt to still be in contact with Nolan, the thought of cutting him off hurt just as much. So, you subjected yourself to the heartache of talking to someone as if you weren’t enamored with. After the night of your break down, Nolan tried texting and calling you as usual. Although you weren’t ignoring him, you kept your texts brief and the phone calls even shorter. You felt bad for creating a wall between you and Nolan, especially since he wasn’t sure what was going on with you. He often asked what was on your mind, but you typically brushed it off and churned out a half-true excuse about being busy with school before cutting your conversations with him short.

Maya understood your discomfort with the situation, and offered to call off the movie night. You quickly objected, not wanting to ruin the night for the others just because you were battling your own demons. You told her that the movie night could go on at your shared apartment, and that you would find something to keep you out of the house for a while.

Your escape from the apartment came in the form of Austin, a boy from your psych class. Although you two didn’t speak to one another much, his kind eyes and bashful smile always led you to gladly agree whenever he’d asked to sit in the open spot next to you in the lecture hall.

One day, after you offered your notes to him for a day he missed, he offered to take you out for dinner in return. Although you were hesitant at first, you couldn’t think of any cons that would weigh out the opportunity for a free meal and spending a few hours with the charming boy. Plus, he had mentioned that he was a transfer student from out of state, and you knew how much you would have appreciated a few friends from school when you first moved to the city. Ultimately agreeing to his proposition, you gave him your number and scheduled the dinner for the same night and time as the movie night.

When the night of your plans with Austin came around, you made sure to leave your apartment before the guys were coming over. Because you felt guilty for skipping on the movie night, you attempted to help Maya set up the snack. However, Maya insisted that you shouldn’t keep Austin waiting and that she could handle the food herself. When you told her about Austin, she was ecstatic for you. She knew how difficult the past week has been for you and nearly screeched with excitement when you told her that you had actual plans for the weekend.

She gave you a hug and reminded you to call her if you were in an emergency before practically pushing you out of the door.

+ her

The night with Austin went better than planned, and you genuinely enjoyed yourself. Not wanting to give Austin any false impressions, you made sure that the night was strictly platonic. Luckily for you, Austin was incredibly understanding. Although you didn’t miss the look of slight disappointment on his face when you told him that you weren’t interested in being anything more than friends, he respected your decision and upheld his offer for dinner.

Quickly, you found out that you two had a similar sense of humor. Austin was easy to talk to and eventually, you opened up to him about Nolan. You nearly apologized for doing so — you weren’t planning to drop your baggage on a boy that you barely knew. However, Austin was surprisingly good at giving advice and even recounted some of his own stories about unreturned feelings. It was nice to be able to talk to someone that could relate to you.

Knowing that Nolan was at your apartment, Austin suggested that you two get dessert and explore the city to make sure that the hockey player would be gone before you got home. At first, you turned down his idea, jokingly arguing that he didn’t have to spend his whole Saturday night with you out of pity. In spite of your protests, Austin promised that he wanted to continue spending time with you and didn’t mind the idea of getting ice cream.

You didn’t return home until it was nearly midnight. You were sure that the boys would have already headed home, since they had a morning skate the next day.

Opening the door, you were shocked to see that everyone was still in the apartment, eyes occupied on the Marvel movie on the television. Your eyes immediately landed on Nolan’s figure, and you contemplated your next actions.

Settling on trying to go unnoticed by the group, you tried your best to discreetly enter your home and head to your room. With everyone's backs turned away from you, you almost made it to your room safely.

You were so close until your keys loudly fell onto the floor as you tried to remove them from the lock. Instantly, everyone’s heads turned to the front door. Someone turned on the living room’s lights, and you became uncomfortably aware of everyone’s attention on you.

You flashed them a smile, and Maya was the first to speak.

“How was your date?” she slyly questioned, making sure that everyone in the room heard her.

You raised an eyebrow at her question. Maya knew that the night with Austin wasn’t a date. However, the way she glanced at Nolan reminded you that he and the other guys, for that matter, didn’t know that. Not wanting to entertain whatever plan she was brewing in her mind, you tried not to acknowledge her question, flashing her a nervous smile.

“You ditched us for a date?” Travis gasped incredulously, clenching his hand above his heart for the added dramatic effect.

“Is that why the cookies were weird? I knew something was wrong with them when I nearly broke a tooth trying to eat one,” Hayesy laughed as an embarrassed Maya threw a pillow in his direction. You chuckled along with the joke, knowing that you should’ve stuck around to help her bake them. You made sure to promise not to miss the next movie night and even reassured Kevin that you would make a fresh batch of cookies just for him next time.

As Joel chimed in with the others about your “date,” Nolan remained oddly quiet.

His body language was stiff, and his eyes were mostly glued to his lap. He was playing with his fingers and refused to look you in the eyes. He almost looked uncomfortable, his smile forced whenever someone made another funny remark. Although everyone seemed oblivious to it, you couldn’t help but notice the way Nolan was biting the inside of his cheek. It was a habit that you noticed before, but you usually only ever saw him do it when he was in deep concentration or thought. You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt to see that Nolan didn’t even acknowledge your presence. Of course he didn’t owe you anything, but your heart didn’t necessarily know that.

You didn’t want to overanalyze anything, though. So, after chuckling at their comments, you headed to your room to remove your makeup and change into the oversized tee shirt and lounge shorts that you had been looking forward to changing into ever since you left the apartment.

“Calling it a night already?”

Upon hearing the question, you nearly had to do a double take. It was the first time you had heard Nolan’s voice all night. The lack of inflection in his voice transformed the previously light-hearted atmosphere thick with tension.

“Um, yea. It’s been a long night and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my eyes open,” you curtly responded with the first excuse that you could come up with, continuing en route to your room without sparing Nolan another glance. You gave everyone in the living space a small wave before you slipped into your room.

Although your reasoning was partially true, you didn’t know if you could handle being so close to Nolan at the moment. The two of you had gotten used to snuggling up together during movie nights and with your current emotional disarray, you didn’t want to put yourself in the position where you had to pretend like you weren’t still hurt at the thought of Nolan not seeing you in the same light that you saw him. And, regardless of how idiotic Nolan’s teammates could act at times, you knew they were pretty observant — especially when it came to you and Nolan’s complex friendship. If you decided to join in on the movie night but sit in any seat that wasn’t next to Nolan, they'd undoubtedly pick up on it.

Even though you thought your excuse was enough to get by your attentive friends, everyone in the room —bar Nolan— exchanged knowing looks with each other after once they heard the lock of your doorknob click into place. They knew how much you loved movie nights and how you were usually a night owl, regardless of how busy your day was. In fact, it was usually you that begged for an extra movie to be played when everyone was ready to call it a night.

More importantly, they knew you had a soft spot for Nolan. They weren’t ignorant to the way you’d sprint through hoops and hurdles to spend time with Nolan, mostly because they noticed how Nolan would go great lengths to see you, too. It had been a while since you last saw Nolan, and they figured that you would jump on the chance to be in your best friend’s presence again. Of course Maya had to play along, pretending as if she didn’t know why you were avoiding Nolan.

Even though Nolan was a little more subtle with his actions and words, it was no secret that Nolan missed you. His question from earlier was his way of asking you if everything was alright and if you wanted to spend time with him, and your deflection to his implied questions told everyone what they needed to know.

They weren’t quite sure what was going on between you and Nolan, but they knew things weren’t the same as they used to be.

Noting the way Nolan’s shoulders sunk after you disappeared into your bedroom, Maya was the first to rise from her seat. The mood of the night quickly became awkward after Nolan’s short-lived interaction with you, and Maya had no intention of having to sit through another hour of the movie if it were going to be this uncomfortable. She also hoped to talk to you before you actually went to sleep.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head to bed, too. I have to pick up an early shift tomorrow,” she explained as she gathered her blankets from the couch. “You’re staying the night, right?” she asked Joel.

Painfully aware of the newfound tension, her boyfriend silently nodded and helped Maya bring the rest of the throw pillows and blankets.

“You all can finish the rest of the movie,” Maya nodded towards Nolan, Travis, and Kevin. “Just lock up on your way out once it’s over. There should be a spare key under the flower pot outside.” Waving to the guys in the living room, Maya tugged Joel into her room and shut the door.

And then there were three.

+ him

Nolan’s jaw was beginning to ache from how hard he was clenching his teeth together. He didn’t know how to take in the rollercoaster of emotions that he had been feeling for the past few days. He wasn’t oblivious to the barrier that seemed to build up between you and him, but he didn’t know how that wall formed in the first place, let alone how to get over it.

He thought the past few days had been rocky, but he was certainly not prepared for his heartstrings to be pulled into so many directions tonight.

Nolan was looking forward to seeing you in person and was more than disheartened to hear that you were out for the night after he awkwardly asked Maya about your whereabouts. Your roommate didn’t go into the specifics of why you were missing out on the movie night, so he was left to his own devices to figure out where you were.

Of course he could’ve texted you, but given your erratic reply rates as of late, he resorted to refreshing his SnapChat and Instagram apps every once in a while to see if you were posting about where you were spending your weekend night.

Nolan wanted to understand why there was a strain in the relationship and more than anything, he needed your reassurance to know that everything was alright. He partly thought you were distancing yourself from him because he had made his feelings for you too obvious and you didn’t see him in that same way. The theory wasn’t even farfetched. His friends always made fun of him for being so whipped for you, and Nolan knew that you hated letting others down. Throughout his friendship with you, he had quickly learned that you would much rather deal with the brunt of someone else’s problems than to let them down. The thought of you distancing yourself from Nolan just because you only saw him as just a friend hurt Nolan, and he needed to let you know that he’d much rather deal with his feelings being unreciprocated than to have you fade away from his life.

Nolan also thought that he said something wrong and made you upset. However, after replaying all of the conversations he had with you leading up to your new treatment towards him, he didn’t know what he would have said that would have made you this indifferent to him.

Your social media gave no hints as to what you were doing, so Nolan let his imagination run wild with all of the reasons why you would’ve skipped movie night, especially when you were usually so excited about them.

When you entered the apartment a few hours after his arrival, Nolan felt his heartbeat begin to thrum as loud as a kick drum. All of the hypothetical situations that were previously occupying his mind were now invaded with thoughts about how good you looked. Nolan recognized the denim jacket you were wearing as the one that you had gotten a few months ago. He had just finished an afternoon practice when you FaceTimed him and couldn’t contain your excitement about finding the “most perfect article of clothing” you’ve ever owned. Although Nolan chirped you for driving so far away just for a jacket, the ecstatic expression on your face that day was one he’d never forget. It was also one that he so desperately craved to see for the rest of his life.

Just as quickly as he was brought out of his slump from seeing you, he was rudely pulled back down to reality after Maya asked you about your date. Needless to say, the warmth that filled his heart left as quickly as it had entered. Jealousy consumed Nolan, and he was momentarily blinded by a pain that he couldn’t quite describe.

As his friends joke around with you, Nolan struggled comprehending the thought of you with another guy. He had no right to be upset, really. Not when he couldn’t muster up the courage to tell you how he felt and especially not when your eyes were twinkling with so much elation.

Throughout the friendship Nolan had developed with you, you never mentioned that you were going on dates or seeking relationships. The hopeless romantic in him let him believe that maybe, just maybe, you were saving your heart for the right person. For him.

However, the breathy chuckle you released after Maya’s question shattered any amount of hope that Nolan had built up. Now, instead of butterflies, Nolan’s stomach was filled with a piercing ache. As if he wanted to punish himself more for not being more vocal about his feelings for you, Nolan attempted to ask you to join the movie night. Sure, maybe he wasn’t exactly direct with his words, but he was hoping you’d pick up on his hint. Nolan shouldn’t have been so surprised when you decided to go to your room instead of joining him and the others, but the already-tense coil in his stomach continued to tighten.

After you went to your room, followed by Maya and Joel, Nolan looked at the remaining people in the room.

“We’re sorry, Pat,” Travis was the first to speak. His words were laced with sympathy, knowing how much his friend was head over heels for you.

Moving from his seat to stand over his younger teammate, Kevin rose from the couch and rubbed Nolan’s shoulder. “Let’s head home, yea?” Kevin attempted to dance around the topic of you.

“I’ll meet you two in the car. Just need to clear my head for a bit,” Nolan muttered to his understanding friends.

Quietly, Travis and Kevin left the apartment, making sure to shut the door carefully as to not disturb their teammate.

+ him & her

Thinking you were in the clear after hearing the front door close, you left your room in hopes of making a mug of tea.

You felt bad for avoiding Nolan, but you didn’t know how else to deal with the thousands of thoughts that cycled through your brain.

To say you were unprepared to see Nolan in your living would be an understatement. His arms were propped on his knees and his face was cradled by his hands. His shoulders were slouched and his tousled hair looked as if he had run his hands through it multiple times.

You weren’t sure if you should’ve just turned back around and locked yourself in your room, but your instincts beckoned you to come closer to Nolan. No matter how hurt you were, he was your best friend first and foremost. If there was anything you could do to bring him out of his clear distress, you would do it without a second thought.

“Nolan?” you meekly called out his name.

Nolan slowly moved his head just enough so he could hear the source of the sound. Unintentionally mimicking your facial expression, he looked just as stunned to see you. “Sorry, I thought you would’ve already been asleep. I was uh- I was just about to head out,” he timidly said.

“Stay as long as you need. I’ve been trying to sleep but didn’t have much luck, so I’m hoping tea will help. Haven’t been able to get a good sleep for a while now,” you explained while opening a kitchen cupboard for a mug.

“Me neither. Things haven’t felt right recently,” he sighed. After his statement, the apartment was eerily quiet. Neither of you wanted to say anything else, scared of stepping over any boundaries or maybe the situation even more awkward.

You’re not sure what gears clicked into place, but you felt compelled to finally tell Nolan what was on your mind. The guilt of ignoring him was eating away at you, and you felt like you at least owed your best friend an explanation as to why you needed space from him. After you dropped the tea bag into your mug, you walked back towards the living space to where Nolan was still sitting.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you started.

Nolan didn’t say anything, his eyes pleading with you to continue with what you were saying.

“I’m just gonna lay everything out because I know I’m not gonna be brave enough to do this on any other occasion,” you prefaced, making sure Nolan was paying attention to what you were saying. You were already embarrassed that you had managed to think that Nolan could ever like you, and you did not want to have to verbally explain your emotional affliction more than one.

“I don’t really know when, but I caught feelings for you. At first I wasn’t sure what to do about it, because everyone always warns about falling for your best friend and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us if you didn’t feel the same,” you continued with your explanation, eventually getting to the part where you saw Nolan and the girl on Maya’s story.

“It just sucked, y’know? I thought I was doing a good job of suppressing my feelings and then I saw that. Obviously it’s not like we were dating or anything and I never told you how I felt at the time, but having that confirmation that there wasn’t actually anything between us was like a kick to the gut.”

“I feel terrible for letting my feelings get in the way of our friendship and reading all of the signs wrong. I don’t wanna lose you because of this, and I’m really trying to get over my silly feelings becau-” you were cut off by Nolan.

“What if I don’t want you to get over those feelings?” he said while approaching the spot you were standing in.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure if you were hearing things right or if you were so sleep deprived that you were starting to make things up. “I-I’m not following,” you silently begged Nolan to continue.

“I liked you, too,” he confessed. “Well, I still like you. If I’m being honest, I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted all in one breath. “I thought it would be easier to try to get over you instead of dealing with the possibility of ruining our friendship just because I caught feelings,” he elaborated.

“Obviously it didn’t work, though. And I ended up messing up things between us anyway, so it really didn’t work,” he sighed with a hint of resignation in his tone. He wasn’t sure if he was referring to ruining the friendship, his chance of getting to call you his, or both. Upon that thought, Nolan became even more dejected after he was reminded about how you were just on a date a few hours ago.

Your head was spinning with each word. Every fiber in your body was consumed by joy, and you were now wide awake. Nolan was now only standing a few feet away from you. You still hadn’t replied to his confession, and you could tell that he was becoming increasingly nervous as he awaited your reaction. With that realization, you were drawn out of your thoughts. Your heart was lodged in your throat, and you knew that no words could articulate the words you wanted to tell Nolan, anyway.

With that, you closed the distance between the two of you. Your hands grabbed his and although he flinched a little bit, he welcomed your gesture and interlaced your fingers with him.

Going on your tiptoes to come a little closer to your face, you become hyper-aware of Nolan’s burning gaze. His face is painted with a light blush, and he’s biting the inside of his cheeks again.

“I hope this is okay,” is the last thing you whisper before you connect your lips to his.

Instinctively, Nolan’s hands pulled away from yours to find a home on your hips. He pulled you closer, attempting to deepen the kiss. The kiss was soft, reassuring, and everything in between. Nolan couldn’t stop the smile that was tugging on his lips, and had to pull away to make sure that this was actually happening.

He was met with your confused face, your eyebrows scrunched in the cutest way. His smile promptly turned into a smirk as you tried to pull him into a kiss, your shorter height causing you to barely graze the corner of his lips.

When Nolan released a chuckle, you started to become impatient. “What?” you questioned while narrowing your eyes towards the rosy-cheeked boy in front of you.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he cheekily asked.

“Only if I get a second kiss,” you said with gleaming eyes, fingertips grazing along his jawline. With those words, Nolan wasted no time fulfilling your wish and peppering your neck with dozens of chaste kisses.

The two of you were so consumed with the high of finally getting to hear the other admit their feelings that neither of you heard the sound of the front door violently swinging open.

“Patty, where the fuck are yo-” Travis called, immediately realizing the moment he was intruding on. “You know what, I think I’m just gonna head out. Have a good night!” he awkwardly chuckled, undoubtedly embarrassed. He sent the two of you a thumbs up before quickly shutting the door as if he never interrupted.

“Oh my god,” Nolan said, his head falling into your shoulder and arms wrapping around your body. “I forgot that TK and Hayesy were waiting for me to come down. It’s probably been like half an hour at this point,” his laugh rumbled through your bones.

“Stay the night?” you offered. “Maybe I can finally get more than four hours of sleep,” you laughed.

“Mm, sounds like a plan,” Nolan peppered kisses along your neck before scooping you into his arms and heading to your bedroom.

Although both of you knew that there would be a lot to talk about the following morning, neither of you wanted to disrupt the current state of bliss that both of you were in. You and Nolan’s hearts were finally intertwined, and for now, that was enough to engulf you in ease.

[heliopauseentertainments]

A Letter Of Resignation

This is my first “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” and “Megan was an abusive asshole to Starscream in IDW1″ piece. Please bear that in mind if you choose to read it. Rated "Mature" as a result, but there is no on-screen violence or death.

I’m not maintagging this for reasons, but filter tags will be on the crosspost reblog and all subsequent reblogs. This post will be tagged with content warnings.

I've had the letter portion written for awhile as part of an AU with @tangentially-displaced, but I decided to edit the letter and frame it as a standalone piece.

Continuity: IDW1 Rating: Mature Relationship: Megatron/Starscream, Starscream/Rodimus, past Megatron/Optimus, mentioned Megatron & Soundwave Characters: Megatron, Starscream, Rodimus (off-screen but present), Soundwave Summary: In which, after being married off to Rodimus to finalize a peace treaty, Starscream receives an unusual letter from Megatron. Warnings: Past abuse, mentioned character death, implied suicide, unhealthy relationships, arranged marriage, dead dove: do not eat Crossposting: In a reblog

Fic under cut.

Starscream hadn’t been sure what to expect when he arrived in Kaon after a few months residing in Iacon with Rodimus, the new Prime. The peace treaty, in which he was a crucial participant, uniting their two factions was finalized and hopefully the hard work of piecing together a society could begin. Soundwave’s message, however, had been flagged urgent. Starscream was still a member of Decepticon High Command, even if he’d been working remotely and with fewer duties recently.

:: Megatron: whereabouts unknown ::

That had been more than enough to summon the seeker. A cold fear had spread into his lines at the thought of their leader being missing. Starscream had always made it a point to know exactly where he was if he could help it. That meant knowing where the next attack would come from. It also meant that Starscream knew the raging fool was safe, even if sometimes he hated himself for wanting to know that, taking comfort in it even.

The last thing he had expected when standing in Megatron’s empty office in Kaon was a letter on an encrypted datapad, set to only open to Starscream’s sparkprint. Of course, Soundwave could have really opened it if he had wanted to, but it seemed to be untampered with.

Accessing the letter, Starscream immediately recognized Megatron’s familiar florid glyphs. Instead of using standardized, digital script, Megatron’s artistic sensibilities from all of that poetry had encouraged him to adopt and refine an elaborate style of handwriting. Each stroke manually, delicately placed there by a light-pen. It was a disgusting juxtaposition to the knowledge that the hands that created this beautiful manuscript also wrought such pain. Memories of injuries past caused twinges and twitches in his limbs and wings.

Worst of all, now he still had to read this slop.

--

Starscream,

By now my absence has probably been noticed. I would ask you to tell Soundwave that I’m sorry, but I’m sure he already knows. I have not been as good of an amica as he deserves, but that’s not why you’re reading this letter. No, I have matters of an entirely different stripe for you. I have left Soundwave with a letter of his own. Do not fret, though I know you won’t. I know your feelings towards Soundwave have rarely been warm with that jealous spark of yours. I have provided for him.

Let me preface this with assurances that you will not be seeing me again and this will be the last you hear from me. I am certain that, in some way, this will be please you to no end. At long last, I have been removed from your existence, though, perhaps, sadly not by your hand, not directly. Though it is, in part, because of you that I shall meet my end.

Your present situation is the result of deliberate planning. Much of the misfortune in your life could and should be laid at my feet. Not only have you suffered for your proximity to me, but also for orders I have given you and violence I have personally, often unjustly, enacted upon you. Forgiveness is not an option and I will not apologize, no matter my remorse and regret. There is no possible excuse. Atonement is both necessary and alone all that can be done to attempt to rectify the wrongs.

Ever since Optimus’ death, I have seen more clearly what must be done. The crimes I’ve committed against you and all of our kind painted more stark in grief and the realization of a life wasted. When the Matrix chose the new Prime, I saw an opportunity in that foolhardy and earnest mech. I cannot undo the damage but I have been able to pave the way for it to heal on its own.

Rodimus is, by nature, averse to being commanded. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that you can’t simply order him around. I offered myself, under the guise of a grief-stricken and honor-bound leader, knowing he would refuse on the grounds of respecting that grief. I resisted his initial agreement to wed you in my stead, knowing he would argue simply because I said ‘no.’ I let him naïvely choose Prowl, as you share a rank. All while I knew full well that Prowl would present… a danger. It was a test. I knew Prowl would threaten you for potentially encroaching upon him and I knew you would brook no such threat, not after what I had done to you.

It was a test. If Rodimus would not tolerate this treatment of you, I knew… I knew he would be a safe companion for you, someone who would stick up for you. If I resisted further, I knew he would dig in his heels. It all played out exactly as I had hoped. Every step of this engagement, I foresaw and calculated.

I knew already that he would look beyond your affiliation, beyond anything you had done, and still see a mech of value. Perhaps he would not see a mate, but he would certainly see a friend in you. I knew that, at last, I could give you everything you ever wanted: a life of luxury and someone who would love you and see you as the most important person in the room, someone whose optics would flare with excitement at your attentions and who would jump at the chance to bring you cheer and bask in your smile. I just also had to know he would never willfully endanger you.

Luckily, I was right.

Upon learning what I’d done to you, he came to me in a rage at my actions, threatening that if I ever put my hand on you again, that he would personally exact a vengeance, undeterred by the fact that if I chose I could have crushed him where he stood. The look on his face when you told him before the officiant when asked to confess an unflattering secret—and don’t think I don’t know what you told him—confirmed everything that I had suspected. Consider this my final gift to you. I suggest you appreciate it. Cherish him as I have cherished the cannon you gifted to me so many millions of years ago.

In the end of it all, in my own horrible way, I loved you, even though I did not appreciate you. With that in mind, I leave you with one final order, though I know you are, by nature, rebellious: do not follow me. I go where you cannot and, furthermore, should not follow. Simply gifting you a new life does not fulfill my atonement. There is more that I must do before I may, at long last, close the book on my life.

I go to destroy the monsters of my own making and those that took advantage of our cause, myself included. These are my final tasks. Speak of me in the past tense, if you choose to speak of me at all. For all intents and purposes, Megatronus of Tarn no longer functions. I do not ask you to remember me fondly. In fact, I will not blame you if you choose to forget that we ever shared a berth.

I am no peacetime leader. As Shockwave so elegantly put it, I am naught but an ego and a gun. You are much better equipped to lead them all into a grand future.

I leave you, officially, that which you’ve always wanted: leadership.

It is yours at last, my love, Lord Starscream of Vos, supreme commander of the Decepticons.

--

That… That self-aggrandizing coward!

Starscream threw the datapad at the wall across from him. It clattered against the metal surface before clacking against the floor. This letter was little more than salt in the wound, one more backhanded slap in a series of wrongs perpetuated against him over millions of years.

“Soundwave, is a shuttle missing?”

“Affirmative.”

Megatron was taking the easy way out.

“Ready another one.” Starscream wasn’t about to let him. “We have a fugitive.”

[yourplasticpal]

It's early days for this - my full outline is in a state only I could understand reading back over it - but I should probably get a beta reader? I just know I'm going to be annoying as fuck, though. I kind of hate to inflict myself on anyone. I'm a nitpicky obsessive perfectionist little control freak who has been known to cry over accurate, constructive criticism. It has taken me a week to produce the first two pages of a more complete draft and I have gone back over and over it so many times it is no longer words to me.

Maybe I need less a true beta reader, and more someone to look at what I have and reassure me, "no, this isn't TOTAL florid word salad garbo. Proceed."

Also, I will definitely need someone to help me figure out tags and warnings, eventually.

Also also, there's (temporary) character death and more gore than I originally intended already, so...

[god-infected]

Tagged by dear angels @rruslana, @roseverie, @rosehaunt 🤍🤍 thank you!! love you all, mwah

Favourite colour: merlot red

Currently reading: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes by Anita Loos & The Night Country by Loren Eiseley & The Pleasure and Pain of Cult Horror Films (one book for every mood... also the Night Country takes so much time to comprehend)

Last song: Cosmia by Joanna Newsom

Last series: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Last film: Tootsie

Sweet, savoury or spicy: Sweet

Currently working on: Exactly right now I should be writing for work but I'm going through my period sooo, distracting myself every 20 min (this is a distraction I took), in the general sense; my life...

Tagging: @amadryades @allthestoriescantbelies @attacirus @florid-fragments @konvalia @museenkuss @orchideennacht @tsar-devitsa