#the only knowledge I have in high end fashion

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[its-not-a-pen]

[餘知傳] The 2nd Century Warlord (Part 1)

based on the story by @romanceyourdemons

art by @its-not-a-pen

first day as a second century warlord i have my men tie branches to their horses’ tails to stir up dust and make it look like there’s a lot of us but i forget it just rained so there isn’t any dust and the enemy can clearly see there’s like twenty of us all spread out in a line

second day as a second century warlord i bribe a bunch of kids to start singing a nursery rhyme i carefully crafted to spread misinformation and further my strategic ends but they change the lyrics to be about poop and the enemy isn’t misdirected at all

third day as a second century warlord i lure my enemy into a narrow valley and send a team of archers to shoot them from the high ground but there was a feral hog napping on the trail up to the overlook and they couldn’t decide whether to try and shoot it or just go around and by the time the hog woke up and left on its own the enemy had already passed safely below

fourth day as a second century warlord we attempt to join a battle on the side of the guy we want to ally with but he and the guy he’s fighting have really similar names and it’s finally dusty and i misread the standards and attack the wrong guy. so now we’re stuck with this total loser of a liege lord, because how the fuck do you explain that after a battle?

fifth day as a second century warlord and some sort of wizard wanders into camp, my loser liege lord wants to execute him for being a wizard but i convince him to let the wizard stay, because i want to do more weather-based strategies and i’m pretty sure having a camp wizard can help with that. after the welcome to the team banquet the wizard steals half the treasury and my liege lord’s wife and leaves

sixth day as a second century warlord my loser liege lord sends me to reinforce a city he’s taken, but in the confusion of leaving i forgot to take the token that would have gotten us into the city, so my men have to wait outside the city walls for like eight hours while i ride back to get it

seventh day as a second century warlord and my loser liege lord finally joins me in the city, it turns out he’s actually a pretty cool guy, and he isn’t even that mad at me for letting the wizard steal his wife. i decide to shoot my shot but i’m really nervous and keep on stalling because what if i mess up our relationship and by extension jeopardize the security of my men, and eventually he just says goodnight and goes back to his room, where an assassin is in the process of setting up to kill him

eighth day as a second century warlord and my loser liege lord tells me to fake defect to his rival warlord, the one i originally wanted to ally with, to find out if he was the one who sent the assassin and why. but my whole way over to the rival warlord i’m worried that this has something to do with the wizard thing or how awkward i made it last night

End of Part 1

part 2

This comic was made independently from the creator, I'm just a fan and these are my own interpretations.

Notes under the cut:

the title 餘知傳 [the Story of Yu Zhi], is the styled name of the Second Century Warlord. I translated 餘知 as [plentiful knowledge] since he's defined by a surplus of knowledge but a deficit in luck. It's also great for fish-based puns since it's a homophone. As a nice parallel, Loser Liege Lord's banner is a carp ;))). the art style was inspired by vintage Chinese comics.

The story is set during the Three Kingdoms period, (220 to 280 AD) natural disasters, infighting and civil unrest had dissolved the previous Han Dynasty, leading to a violent free-for-all. I based the clothes on the previous Eastern Han styles, mainly because there just weren't a lot of contemporary references from the 3K period (and it only lasted like, 60 years). I always strive for historical accuracy, however, the Han Dynasty was over 400 years long and some sources don't do a great job separating out the different fashions, so I apologise for any mistakes that occur.

2. there aren't a ton of drawings on what Han children looked like, but in general ancient kids hairstyles are pretty consistent. 9-15 yo boys had shaved heads with two little top knots, girls had natural hair in braids/buns.

3. the crossbow (back left) makes a cameo, it was associated with Zhuge Liang, famous real-life strategist from the 3K era.

4. the LLL and his wife thank the Warlord, (a noblewoman on a battlefield??? scandalous!). it shows the LLL enjoys the unconventional and the wife is not as timid as she appears. I thought it would be funny to make them look as Background Character (tm) as possible.

5. I based the wizard's design on sages from mythology. (Hey, he's not a total fraud, he invented gunpowder 800 years before the Tang dynasty!) Nice little character moment for the LLL who is shielding his wife.

6. What do soldiers do while they're waiting for 8 hours? (<-from the right) playing knucklebones with pebbles, whittling a little horse, feeding sparrows, gossiping with neighbour, drinking from his gourd, napping. A minor warlord can't afford to keep a professional army so they're most likely conscripted farmers who've had to buy their own weapons and armour, hence why they look so unimpressive.

7. LLL offers the Warlord a bitten peach. Inspired by the legend of Mizi Xia who bit into a delicious peach and gave it to the Emperor so he could taste it was well. "Bitten peach" was a byword for homosexuality in ancient China. I thought it would be SO funny if the LLL was actually smooth af and the Warlord was a like a teenaged girl crushing for the first time. He's desperate to taste that peach but is too timid to reach out >;))) man has zero game. negative game, even. truely the PS4 of homosexuals. RIP to the assassin in the back corner who was forced to watch the most awkward, cringe-fail attempt at flirting in the history of china play out.

8. this is what zero peach does to a mf. UnU

[kafkasmeow]

1 ꗃ A FAMILIAR TUNE

imagine! 7.2k words worth of slow-burn ─ dan heng x reader ─ second pov fem! reader ─ angst and fluff ─ father! jing yuan (strictly platonic) ─ i treated the reader more as an oc, i do apologise for that.

summery ─ leaving home was one of the hardest choices you’ve ever had to make, yet how could you stay when the life you lived could only ever bring you sadness and superficiality? 

aka dan heng x reader with mommy and daddy issues

disclaimer ─ this story may hold sensitive subjects such as mentioned death, neglect and the baggage that comes with it, mental illness, violence, harassment and talks of infertility. it has a very long introduction (my bad lol), a rather steamy end and takes inspiration from the original story line so be careful of spoilers and it was inspired by head-canons written here by @lyomeii , please go show some love. remember that this is a work of fiction and any names and characters written are my imagination alone. enjoy <3

taglist ─ @can-i-go-to-sleep-please ─ @can-i-stay-awake

There was a time when things felt easier, when the sun seemed to shine brighter despite the overwhelming shadow that was always cast on your family. You used to love the deep smell of green tea that enveloped the parlour each time the two of you took residence in it, and the wind that would swirl it around the whole of the office all while you laughed without a single care at the way it tugged your translucent shawl and hair. 

Jing Yuan adored that sound more than anything, it filled his heart with the warmest of contents yet the cruelest of longings. He would sip quietly on the tea you’d brewed for him and pretend to enjoy the frivolous moment with his eyes closed, but you both knew that when you looked away, another story would be told completely. 

Perhaps in reality, the sun never shined brighter than it seemed to and it was never easier to stomach. You were just too naive, too young to notice the thin cords bringing you and your father closer, and too ignorant to see the way they were slowly beginning to rip under the pressure. 

To the public eye, your father loved you more than anything in the world, that was no news to anyone atop the Xianzhou Luofu. You’ve always worn the most expensive silks to have ever been created, with the richest of accessories and jewels. Whenever a new Hanfu dress would reach your hands, he would parade you on the busiest streets himself, making sure everyone and their mothers would talk about it by noon the next day. 

He made sure you always had the most able and knowledgeable professors at your call, and if you ever needed anything, all you’d have to do is ask to whomever was closest to you at the very moment, and it would be fulfilled within seconds. Sometimes you didn’t know if the servants did it out of admiration for your father or obligation.

Jing Yuan made sure you never needed or wanted for more. Materially, that is. 

And things were bound to change as you grew, especially as he cruelly presented you to the scrutiny of high society. 

You quickly grew to understand that it was his way of apologising, like a crow that would chip away at your skin then bring you trinkets of appreciation. When you sat and listened to some woman criticise that your dress was too frivolous for the event, too out of fashion for society and that none of your jewels matched, he did not do much but smile and pat your shoulder. 

“Little [Y/n] will learn from your kind advice.” He assured her, but you barely held in a snort of frustration. When the other women joined in, when they begun pulling at your hair to adjust it, when they hit your hands with their fans as you purred tea for not angling your elbows right, when they shamed you as the hall hollered with laughter, he watched and smiled, so you took a deep breath and smiled back to everyone around you too.

Later that very evening he found you with tears running on your cheeks, a box of red and gold velvet in his hands. Your father did not speak, nor did he show much emotion on his face and it angered you. You wished to yell, to protest for the fact that he had not jumped to your defence, but as you opened the box, all protests died on your lips and the tears stilled, hands shaking at the most beautiful jade hair pin you’ve ever seen.

But his gifts stopped making up for his emotional absence around the third time it happened. 

And you knew they all watched you like a hawk. Every move you’d make before the higher ups would be analysed on a scale of “good enough” or “weak” by none other than your father’s so called friends, while every single gesture before the public was like pulling needles off your skin. Yesterday you wore your Hanfu scandalously low on your cleavage, today you didn’t say thank you when the guard accompanying you opened up your parasol, tomorrow you won’t hold your tea cup quite right and so on. 

Usually it was easy to ignore.

But that was before the daughters of the noblest of houses would begin to alienate you for shallow reasons, and before the sons of each commissioner would size you up as nothing but easy stock to win over, an easy marriage in the pocket, or so they thought. 

It was easy for them to have the audacity to criticise you to your face or try to win you over, after all, you were nothing but a spoiled brat who’s never heard no for as long as she’s lived. Surely, you’ve never faced a single hardship, so the public felt righteous enough to scold you into it while for those within you were noting but a charity case. 

So you tried to learn all you could, so you’d never feel as less in front of others ever again. Since the very evening of your debut, you insisted on having a book under your arm, a needle in your hand, a sword at your hip, or a qin in your lap while tea cups simmered on a table. It felt easier to overlook the loneliness when you did. You found that after a certain age, it felt comforting even to worry about making it in time to granny Hua’s qin lessons while leaving the swordplay hall behind, rather than sit pretty in a room and wait all day for your father to finish his duties as a general. There was no more room at social events for rude interventions, and no more room in your mid for uncomfortable questions to ask while doing so, really.  

But you couldn’t avoid them for an eternity, that was for sure. And neither could Jing Yuan, for even in tranquil moments when peace had the taste of green tea and the smell of fresh air after rain, your twinkling eyes were still a carbon copy of how hers were. 

In the better of these days, your father would pretend to laugh at a joke you made, while you pretended to be satisfied with his reaction. You’d move a piece on the xiangqi board with elegant hands and chatted about the latest passage you read in a philosophy book, and he hummed in agreement while placing his own piece down. A cleverly crafted strategy to his own defeat, one that you felt content with following despite the fragile shame that came with it. 

It was a play you both excelled at most, after all.

At the worst of it all, you can’t understand his harsh voice as he yells “That is enough, [Y/n]!” while slamming his tea cup on the table. The whole room would shake at his warning, but your hunger for answers was much stronger than any fear, so you really can’t understand his fury when you yell back “Father! It is not!” He look at you with sorrow in his heart and his eyes were twisted by a pain you’d never understand, as he could only see her in you. 

“I will not have this conversation with you!” He’d warn again, but you took it as an invitation to push even further. “I don’t know the first thing about my mother, Jing Yuan! Her name? Never heard of it. Her face? Never seen it. Do you not think it is cruel, father?” Hot tears streamed on your perfect porcelain cheeks, smearing the red eyeliner you had painted on. “No one ever speaks about her to me, everyone refuses to. But they all look at me like I’m some kind of…” Your voice trailed off with hard puffs and sobs. “Like I’m some kind of…” 

His own chest puffed and the sight of you felt like a stab to his heart. You couldn’t get your words out, you didn’t need to really. People constantly looked at you in one of two ways, no matter how perfectly you’ve learned to craft your smiles, or how good your tea brewing had became, you were either a charity case they’d pity, or a spoiled brat that knew none of what the real world would offer.

 But despite all of his anger, he was still your father, and as much as he loved to punish himself trough you, he still held back the need of snapping the heads off all of their shoulders. He would reach for the back of your neck with his hand, bringing you into his chest in a half hug. “You are enough. Never forget that.” He’d kiss the crown of your head and inhale the floral smell of your hair. It grounded him, even as you screamed into his chest and pushed him away, his grip stayed firm until you’d shed your last tear and you cried your last sob. 

Because despite of how much you hated to admit it, you were living and breathing for his approval, which you seemed to never ever gain.

Unbeknownst to you, everything about you was just like her. Your face, your hair, even the way you wore your Hanfu  a little out of place with the shawl falling all over the floor when you walked, or your mannerism as you spoke with a tiny accent on your tongue, it was all her and nothing of his except the mole under your left eye. You’ve never met her, he tried to reason. You’ve never seen her or heard of her deeds. Your mother has been an enigma to you ever since you could remember things, and yet the world punished him with her perfect copy in you when he tried to push her memory away the most. 

It felt bittersweet. To the outside eye, general Jing Yuan adored his daughter more than anything else in the world. But underneath the jewellery, there were unaddressed feelings, each pearl you wore for people on the Central Starskiff Heaven to see was a tear unshed, each new dress was a silent apology they’d never hear, each loving promenade you’d have with your father was there to hide for the public a question you asked when the cord was too tensed. One of these days it would snap in half, you were sure of it. 

So who could blame you when it all overflowed? When you could no longer smile in the face of those who envied you and when your father’s emotional absence felt like a hallow painting of what should have really been? When the dresses and the jewels weren’t smothering the pain any longer?

You felt it daily, building up, pressing down, tugging at your smiles until they became frowns and empty stares, and your ever growing depression was evident for anyone that roamed the gardens outside your window at night, as your qin carried into the world the saddest tune your heart feared to voice. And this time, not even a Hanfu made out of golden thread would ease your pain. 

“So, say you, general,” 

Your father hummed back to the woman before him as he placed his piece down on the board. Another noble nodded in agreement with his choice behind him. You saw them all from where you were sitting, fingers strumming the qin in a delicate tune for the whole room to enjoy, while gin purred from flasks and laughter echoed somewhere in the back. It wasn’t like you to agree partaking in parties like these, but how could you turn Jing Yuan down when he asked you to serenade him at the event?

“I would say you’d want to keep your daughter closest to you, am I not right?” The wicked tone in the noble’s voice made you shiver underneath the silver shawl that draped off your shoulders. “Quite so I fear, why is that?” 

“Well, I hoped to reach you when I first heard the news, but I was quite busy, yous see?” The woman, an esteemed elder of the Artisanship Commission, hid her face behind what was possibly the most obnoxious fan you’ve ever seen, and your fingers became stiff on the metal strings of your trusted instrument. “Pardon me?” The general stilled his movements on the xiangqi pieces while the chattering went quiet. Nothing but your trembling notes filled the air.

“You know, I wished to give you my deepest condolences the moment I heard. For your daughter’s… unfortunate situation, that is.” Confused, Jing Yuan tilts his head to where you stood, only to be met with the same questions on your face that you desperately tried to drown as you played your melody. He chuckled awkwardly, then, and returned his attention on the game. “I fear I don’t know what you’re going on about, ma’am.”

“Ah… You know, the fact that your daughter is unable to bear children has quite saddened us all. I was looking forward to sending my son as a potential suitor!” 

If eyes could kill, you would be sure that the place where the woman stood would have become scorched dust. An involuntary scoff left your lips loud enough to draw attention, but you pretended to be engrossed with tuning your qin before beginning to play another piece for the hall. 

“And where have you heard such news, I wonder?” But she held no fear in her eyes. 

“Well, for one, everyone in high society talks about it! You see, your daughter is already past the age of accepting suitors yet has never even been seen with a man, so people assume. That being said I personally was told so by a doctor that works under you, your grace.” 

‘Lies’, you told yourself, but it was not enough to cool the blush you had on your cheeks from embarrassment, no matter how much you have been shamed by the public eye, nothing could compare to this very moment now. 

“Is that so,” Your father trailed off, then placed his piece on the xiangqi board. “Well, from what I know, your son is welcome to send in his suitor application, for my daughter is more than healthy and cared for. In fact, now that I think about it,” But you didn’t wish to hear any more. 

With a sudden move, you jumped from your seat to your feet and rushed to gather the qin underneath its silk cloth. The commotion drew attention to you, and so murmurs begun filling your ears which only fed your ever growing shame. “Please excuse me.” You voiced as you bowed deeply to the room of lords and nobles, then picked up your instrument and hurried to the exit with a strained “Please enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

And you hoped that would be the last you’ve heard of it all, but as fate wanted it, that was far from how things would play. 

“Father! This is ridiculous!” You protested. For all reason and purposes, it really was. 

Not even a full day after what happened, he invited you to serve tea with him in the parlour. You found it odd, as he never requested your presence on Tuesday afternoons, but did not complain as you stepped into the room with haste. 

He took his time finding the courage to face you, and when he understood he would not be able to deliver the news to you with a straight face, he pushed a stack of paper to you without even meeting your eyes. There, in red ink, was your fate sealed by a simple signature. An agreement that had been made without your knowledge or permission, and a wound that would become the reason for the demise of cord that held your family together.

Marriage certificate. 

No one knows what was truly discussed that night in the evening, but what was known was that you’ve fled with tears in your eyes and anger on your face. And for better or for worse, that would become the last time anyone on the Xianzhou Luofu had seen you under the identity of the general’s daughter, for you found no more room in your heart for the pain that followed with it.

“You know, when you put it like that, I do think that green works best with coral!” March eagerly nodded her head, while Dan Heng took his time analysing Himeko’s theory. You and welt only listened to the conversation with one ear, while the other was being filled with questions over questions from Stelle. 

“I don’t believe that’s a wise move.” You chirped as Welt placed the piece down, and you followed with a quick movement that gained you his general. He groaned and pushed his glasses up away while massaging the bridge of his nose. Stelle wowed and wood at your victory, and March leaned from her seat across the express’ parlour with a “really?” look in her eyes. 

“You lost again, M. Yang?” 

“I swear I’m good at this game.” And you chuckled while placing the pieces back into their pouch. “Used is a keyword.” March continued to tease while everyone watched your movements, which, weirdly, felt more calming than before your time on the express. In truth, it was because they never snickered underneath their palms and never cherry picked your posture until you’d get it wrong. 

That being said, you could only care for one person’s eyes alone, and his stare felt like electricity on the back of your neck. 

“How did you learn to play like this, anyways? You’re like a mad genius at these.” Stelle intervened, and you couldn’t help but shiver as your father’s knowing eyes came into your mind. “Ah…” was all that escaped your lips, before you cured your pained expression in a calm and lovely smile. “My father taught me how to play. He always made it so I would win, though. Therefore, for the longest time I believed I was quite bad at it too.” 

Your voice felt like crystal in the quiet room, so quiet and soft to the ear that it was more akin to a melody than a spoken sentence. You never truly talked about your home, never about your family of your past, which is exactly why your friends turned to you with a cocktail of shocked expressions. Despite how polite and proper you always were, whenever someone asked about it, you would have the coldest glare thrown their way, sure, involuntarily, but scary nonetheless, and with time the crew learned to not ask about a past you so much wished to hide.

Despite that, they never judged you for any of it, not even when your friendship has been tried over and over by your cold heart. You were never outright rude per se, but distant hit the nail in the head best. When Himeko would extend an invitation to a “coffee party” for the crew as an example, you refused with a polite smile that felt ripped out of etiquette teaching picture books, saying you prefer tea instead. 

She feared you’d be left out, you feared being the centre of attention. 

“I believe I’ll head in for the day.” You spoke after finishing to arrange the xiangqi pieces on the board. March left out an “Oh…” and you could hear the sad face in her voice. Amongst the others, she was the saddest when you chose to sit the Xianzhou Luofu out, as ever since your addition to the crew, you never turned down an adventure. You explained that your bones hurt from the cold of Jarilo-VI and that you needed a rest, and with Stelle at their side, you were sure they would have no problems getting trough this one trail-blazing adventure. Sure, it was a bit of a shock for Himeko and Welt, but to March? It was a tragedy. Her new bestie leaving her behind? She swore the world would end.

“Please, have a safe journey and a swift return.” 

You nodded your head their way before picking up the xiangqi game and reaching for the door. Your fingers grazed the digital pad just in time to hear Dan Heng’s voice behind you. “I will do the same, didn’t quite finish storing the data bank after Jarilo-VI.” 

And so you ended up side by side, walking trough the corridors of the Express. However, as you stepped past his make-shift room, you found his steps synced with yours still and, confused, you turned to face him and painted one of your signature smiles. Fake but pretty all the same. 

“Can I help you, Dan Heng?”

It was exactly that cold yet perfect, more-like-a-painting-than-an-actual-human attitude that made Dan Heng distrust you from the moment you stepped on the Express. You left everything to speculation in a way in which even your clothes were a mass of black and colourless, without any culture behind or any story at all to tell. Always in a bland attire with no accessories at all. March made fun of you for being so tasteless, but he saw past the appearance.  He saw past the way you acted and into the way you wilded your swords like cranes flying in the wind, the way you prepared and steeped tea, and the way you handled xiangqi and go pieces like a native only could.

He peered into your eyes in a way that made you unravel before him without a single word, and he knew it was to hide a side of you that you’ve hidden deeply to the rest. But not quite to him.

And while he was trying to get over a sense of danger in you, fed by your secrecy, you found peace in his presence. Unbeknownst  to him, he was the one thing that reminded you of home and the good in it despite it all. If your memories were filled with torment and loneliness, he was the smell of freshly baked red bean sticky rice cakes in the market, or the sound of wind chimes in the summer rain. He was all of the little things you wanted to push away but found comfort in, and you didn’t know if you loved it or hated him for it.

“Yes, actually.” He nodded. “I find I can’t sleep as of late and I wanted to try one of your calming brews.” You frowned at his words but gave in without asking much, which he greatly appreciated. “Very well, please join me for some tea tonight, then.” And silence settled between you two as you lead him to your cabin with unease rolling off your shoulders. 

Your room was much like your clothes. Simple and colourless besides the coffer next to your bed, which was unmistakably made with the mastery of a Xianzhou artisanship. But if he noticed it, he didn’t speak on it at all, nor about the low table in the middle of the room that was in the same style, or… well really about anything. You appreciated that most. Even when you settled on the table a traditional set of cups, a clear tea spreading the most enchanting and calming aroma from them, he did not speak a single word.

As he drank, his eyes rested on your covered qin that sat atop your bed, and he did not need to speak for you to understand his intentions. You sat down quietly on the covers, revealing the  simple instrument like a truth you’d usually hide from. And he couldn’t help but watch you with sadness in his heart as you tuned the strings with shaky hands ‘till crystal clear notes echoed trough the room. 

You took a heavy inhale and looked upon the dark ebony wood as if greeting an old friend before propping it on your lap, but couldn’t handle to meet Dan Heng’s eyes. At least not when he stared at you as if he knew every single secret you feared to tell. 

As you raised your hands in the air, getting ready to pull at the string, his own palm engulfed your exposed skin in an unspoken plea, and you couldn’t help but give into his warmth. He pulled gently until your face was buried into his shoulder and his other arm was in your hair, and you didn’t even notice it when silent tears begun to stain the fabric of his coat. He didn’t protest nor ever addressed it, and you preferred the feeling of his body against yours to the coldness of his eyes on a normal day. 

As such, you spent the evening together afterwords. Him silently sipping on the calming tea as the sorrowful yet comforting sound of the qin filled your bedroom, until there were no more tears to shed and the pot on the table had gone cold. 

No one wanted to admit it, but it had to be said. Something changed between you and Dan Heng from then on and the first one to notice it was none other than March. 

They were getting ready to leave the express when she stated it for the whole crew to hear. 

“Is it me or are the two of you like, in love or something now?” She arched one of her eyebrows while her lips rested in a scowl. Now, don’t get her wrong she was more than happy for you two if it was the case, but what she could not stand for was the two of you ditching the adventure to enjoy a date over tea and qin music again. 

“March, what kind of nonsense are you onto again?” You huffed with cherry red ears, while Dan Heng choked on the water he was previously drinking. All she could do was wave her hand while saying “yeah yeah,” over and over with a bored face before they set out on their way, but not before Welt pinned the two of you down with a knowing look.

The express stilled with their absence, reinforced by Pom-Pom who claimed to have some cleaning to do somewhere in the Express and Himeko who had some paperwork to finish. The parlour felt almost empty, despite Dan Heng’s presence right next to you. He still held his fist over his mouth as if preparing to cough, cheeks dusted pink and eyes on the starry sky before you, but he didn’t say a word about what happened. And something in you told you to follow his lead. 

You ate quietly at the sticky rice cake you tried your hand baking, and although the taste was very different from what you remembered, it was still as good as ever. With a tissue all crumpled up in your hand, you resulted to watching the sky along side your new friend, eyeing the stars one by one as they passed by. Yet you found your eyes sliding lower and lower from the window to the man before you, who you found already watching you with wide eyes. As if caught in headlights, he stammered out an incoherent string of words but did not move his gaze, not even as his body leaned to yours until his hand grazed your chin. 

You shuddered at his icy touch, but did not dare to move, not even as his fingertips reached for your lips. He gently wiped your lips then brought his thumb to his own mouth, licking off the excess red bean cream from the cake, and you were absolutely sure your face would explode from how hot it get in that very moment. “You had a bit,” He started, but his mouth closed shut when he noticed the dazed stare in your eyes. “Oh aeons, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” His voice shook and his own ears turned scarlet red, only now realising what he has done. You shook your head, head turning  so you could focus on the floor as if the tiles below your feet were now the best sight you have ever seen. “Ah, not at all! I was just surprised, ‘tis all.” Your sweaty palm gripped the tissue tighter. “Would you like some?” And Dan Heng looked at the half eaten cake you extended to him with an expression you’ve ever seen him give March or Stelle. He stared at the cake in his hands with a wholehearted fondness. “Yeah.” Was all he could manage to whisper back.

And somewhere in the back, you swore you heard Himeko giggle to herself. 

The same evening, you would hear three soft knocks on your door in the dead of night. There, in the hallway, with a sweat filled forehead and uneasy complexion, stood Dan Heng, and you would be a fool not to extend a hand to him when he begged for help with his tired eyes. 

“Quit hiding!” The criminal’s voice rang trough your head like a broken mantra. “Your true form… reveal it!” Dan Heng did his best to dodge the maniac attacks, all while you and Yanqing stood in an awkward stalemate in the middle of the platform.

Your blade screeched against Yanqing’s, but it was like fighting fire with fire, simply useless. No matter how lowkey you’ve been upon reaching the Xianzhou, he needed one singular look to know exactly who you were, even underneath the mask that covered the lower half of your face.

“You, little..” You trailed off with effort. Despite his usual sense of justice, that you’ve always commanded, his attacks felt awfully biased as he strikes your blade repeatedly with his icy ones. His technique felt as familiar as home did, her teaching seeping in his bones trough and trough, but so did  your father’s into yours, which you’ve had much more time to perfect than the little lapdog did. 

“Move, you idiot!” And with one harsh push of your blade, the young boy was off his feet, giving you enough time to reach Blade before he could get any damage done on Dan Heng. You yelled with each strike you struggled to par, until his crazy red eyes widened in glee and his sword flew from his hands and right by your chin. The sound of your friend’s cry in agony and the blade tearing trough skin and bone made you pause, and horror struck you as you refused to turn around and to even acknowledge what had happened. “You!” Was all you could let out, sword still pointed straight to Blade’s neck.

“I have news for you.” He laughed, and you took a step back. You would lie if you said your insides didn’t churn with fear, even as he was left completely disarmed before you.

“Behind you… Is none other,” The sound of water engulfed your ears as your head snapped back. “Than the traitor of the Xianzhou. A criminal, forever banished!” Your eyes widened as the barrier around Dan Heng rippled, leaving a water-made dragon to escape with rage all over its face. It roared and turned in the air, coiling until it fell right back to where it came from, and when light and wind filled the platform, you couldn’t help but shield your form with your arms. 

“The High Elder of the Vidyadhara… Imbibitor Lunae.” 

The hold on your sword weakened. You shuddered as the man you grew so attached to revealed himself before you in a form you’ve recognised from your father’s tales. Long silky hair and cold green eyes, horns and tail and lotus flowers and everything that made the Vidyadhara so revered. You could hardly believe your eyes. With a weak step forward, you pulled at the mask to reveal your strained expression, sword falling to your side numbly. 

“You really believed that the Stellaron Hunters were the only ones to infiltrate the Xianzhou?” 

Cold air begun pulling at your hair, and you shook off your stupor when Yanqing begun summoning his ice swords. Your body acted before your mind did at the new threat and your sword was back up within seconds, posture ready for a clash. 

“A wanted criminal, a banished person and a deserter. In this case, I will bring all three of you to justice!” 

The fight ended before it could even begin properly. Yanqing was strong, but Jingliu’s teaching could only get him so far against the three of you. Blade begun striking without mercy, taunting you and Dan Heng for holding back. “What’s wrong, your grace? Scared to harm the boy?” The criminal laughed as you sent only one out of the spirit swords you summoned towards Yanqing. Flashes of electricity begun shining trough your hair with anger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do more. Not  even when Dan Heng delivered the final strike with a silent apology. 

Yanqing’s knees begun to buckle just as Kafka yelled “All of you, listen to me - stop!” 

You couldn’t help but stumble back, swords falling out of existence as Dan Heng’s feet stepped back on the floor and Blade’s weapon vanished before your eyes. “Well, Bladie? Are you satisfied?” She mused and he only hummed in response. 

“…What did you do?” Dan Heng called after a moment of silence. “Just clearing the stage for the grand entrance. Can’t have the four of you misbehaving in front of the Luofu’s hotshot general.” Your shoulders stiffened as a familiar laughter filled the platform. All heads turned towards the sight, yet you stayed rooted on your feet, back turned and head shaking in denial. “No, not like this.” You whispered. 

“Jing Yuan,” Blade huffed. “General!” Yanqing followed. 

The man stared at the sighed before him with a knowing smile just as you got the courage to turn and face him. If he felt anything upon the sight of you, he did not show it. “Many years have passed since the three of you have departed the Xianzhou, and yet the circumstances of your return appear to be equally unhappy. If you still thought of me as a friend,” His eyes went straight to yours, unspoken words weighting you down as you found it harder and harder to breathe. ‘As family’ was what he wished to say, yet he held back. “You should’ve forewarned me.” 

“My task is complete.” Was all the blade said. “Mhm. That it is.” Your father laughed in return. “Thank you for assisting the Xianzhou in this small matter. Take this person away, I will pretend I didn’t see anything this time.” He stated harshly despite Yanqing’s protest. Jing Yuan then stared at Dan Heng as the two Stellaron Hunters made their way to the boat at the edge of the platform. “It has been a long time, old friend.” But your friend answered harshly. “I’m not him.” 

“Mh. I’m sorry. You cannot leave yet, however. Your astral express friends are still waiting for you in Scalegorge Waterscape. Shall we go and see them together? And you…” The moment you have been trying to prepare yourself for most had arrived, and your father’s smile died on his lips as his eyes analysed your face. 

“I missed you terribly, my sweet flower.” Dan Heng stiffened next to you, but his hand fingertips grazed yours in protectiveness, to which you could only respond by accepting his palm into yours. The familiar nickname brought tears into your eyes, and despite the coldness of his face, your father’s voice felt like a familiar little tune you new by heart. Like a warm hug when you needed it most. How you wished you could’ve just forgotten it all and jumped into his chest, just like how you did when you were nothing but a sprout on two legs. 

“That being said, we will continue this conversation later. I’m afraid your friends might be in trouble, you see.”

You didn’t know how time had passed so fast, more like a blur than anything, truthfully. Your eyes were opened wide on the platform between the Xianzhou and Scalegorge Waterscape, blade in hand and senses aware as you parred each of the attacks your way. Then you blinked, and when you reopened them, a familiar sight greeted you. 

Three cups of steaming green tea on a low rise table, a board of xiangqi and pieces of go scattered all over the table. A sacred silence engulfed the room, besides the occasional sound of the chess pieces falling into place, and none of you could bring yourselves to shatter it just yet. 

Dan Heng watched you play with patience while occasionally bringing the cup to his lips, now back into the form you grew so familiar with. You hated to admit it, but his presence comforted you. It gave you the strength to hold yourself together in a situation in which you would have certainly shattered if alone, and your father’s keen eye did not glass over that fact. 

You sighed peacefully when your chariot was finally occupied in the middle of the palace, on your father’s side, in a perfect centroid checkmate. The man before you leaned back and sighed, a puzzled expression on his face. “You just had to go and get better than me at this game, did you not?” But you didn’t answer. You still didn’t know what to say, really. Were you feeling guilty for deserting your spot as a cloud knight? For leaving your father behind? Or for bailing on your responsibilities as his daughter? Well, no not quite, so apologising for it felt…strained and forced. But one thing felt real as your eyes met his and Dan Heng’s hand reached for yours across the table. You missed him terribly just as much. 

“Every single day that passes shapes you more and more like her.” He added. “I wish you could’ve been by my side for them all.” 

“Jing Yuan…” You whispered back, but he didn’t let you finish. “If your mother was here with us today, I assure you, my sweet flower, that things would have been so different.” For a moment, you could hear nothing but your heart beating against your chest.

“You are just like her. And I truly mean it. Your face, your personality, darn it all even the way you speak. And, as your father, I wish I could’ve offered you a better life.” 

“You did all you could.” Funny how even now, you were the one to reach with a warm heart, how you were the one to comfort and forgive, even when his heart couldn’t yield. 

“Not quite. I was foolish and believed that a firm hand would prepare you for the cruelty of the world. I failed to see, no. I failed to change when I saw that it was harming you more than anything.” You let out a sigh you’ve held in for a very long time and closed your eyes, a last attempt at holding in the tears you wished so disparately to shed. 

“I love you, father. Nothing will ever change that. However,” Despite how your hand shook in Dan Heng’s, your voice stood firm, and as you opened your eyes, both men shivered at their determination. “An apology, no matter how needed, will never make up for what has been. If this is your way of asking me to stay, I fear I’ve made my choice.” 

But his ever knowing smile was back on his lips, and his laughter caught you off guard. Your fingers tightened on Dan Heng’s fingertips, who had stayed quiet as you and your father voiced what both of you ever feared to before. 

“You see, that was not my intention. That being said, if you ever did wish to return, there will always be room for you into my arms, my darling flower.” And you only nodded back, lips slightly parted in surprise. 

“We should head out.” Dan Heng whispered to you after the tea had been finished and the conversation ended. He tapped the skin of your palm with gentle fingers, a quiet way of asking for your attention. His eyes were stricken with tiredness, and you doubted that yours were any better, excusing the puffiness brought by your tears. 

“Ah yes, I forgot!” The general mused. “There is no need to return to that hotel for the night. I asked for your room to be prepared, for you and your lover here. So you could rest comfortably before leaving.” The moment could be best described by a broken record being pulled abruptly from its recorder and screeching in your head. You eyed Dan Heng who refused to meet your gaze and who’s ears became scarlet red once more. “Father!” You protested. “He- He’s not-”

“Save it, [Y/n]. At least invite me if you do ever get married.” 

“Dad!” Shame engulfed you as you pushed Dan Heng out of the room all while the sound of Jing Yuan’s laughter taunted you from behind the doors of the seat of Devine Foresight. You couldn’t help but whisper muffled apologies into your hand that tried to shield your burning face from anyone that would watch, which in truth was as effective as searching for a needle in a haystack. 

What you didn’t expect was for Dan Heng’s hand to find yours and move it away, revealing cherry red cheeks that matched his own. He cleared his voice before leaning in just enough for his breath to fan over your ear as your back met the closed doors behind you. “I would not mind if I was.” He whispered before his velvet soft lips rested against the exposed skin of the back of your palm. You were sure your knees would’ve given in if it wasn’t for his arm that hooked around your waist, bringing you so close to him you shuddered. 

“I really would not mind it.” 

Later that evening, as his teeth grazed your exposed skin before kissing it with sweet words of praise, as your hands intertwined and your bodies became one under the silk sheets of your bed, you could tell that your heart began singing a familiar tune. With each kiss from Dan Heng’s, a new feeling invaded your senses. You were home. Here with him, in this very moment. You were home in his arms. 

And you wouldn’t changed it for anything else. 

Yes, not even as March yells “I fucking knew it!” the next morning, for the whole of Xianzhou Luofu to hear, upon seeing your neck caked in love marks you had no means of hiding and your hand held tightly by Dan Heng, who only smiled back to everyone as you buried your face into his chest with shame. 

[struwberrii]

Hi! I love your American high school headcanons! Do you have any headcanons for the Karasuno third years hehehe

haikyuu!! at an american highschool ⋆⭒˚.⋆

thank you for the request!! hopefully u all enjoy ^.^

pt. 1, pt.2

characters: tanaka, noya, kiyoko, sugawara, daichi, asahi

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

tanaka

there’s a 50/50 chance he’ll actually show up to class

drives the most beat up busted car with no tint and no bumper

he and noya in the parking lot blasting music with the windows down

cafeteria lunch defender

probably pulled the fire alarm at some point as a joke

teachers have to tell him to pull his pants up bc he sags 😭

speaker in his bookbag

has been high in class multiple times

literally has no school supplies

does interview in the halls with his phone as a mic and is constantly getting humbled by pretty girls

somehow pulled kiyoko (everyone rips on her for dating him)

falls asleep in class and snores

bro is not graduating 😭

he and noya troll teachers

noya

uses a children’s bookbag bc he thinks it’s funny (people think he’s actually a child)

tanakas #1 meat rider

always making mildly gay comments and everyone in their friend group gets so mad at him

gym try hard

doesn’t have a car but skips in the bathroom sometimes

probably smoked one time and saw literal demons now he’s too scared to ever do it again 😭

his mom drops him off at school

another boy the girls have to hit with the “hear me out”

actually gets his work done but hardly passes

brings like whole family packs of cookies for lunch

crocs all day everyday

makes fart noises in class then blames it on other people

let’s his friends hype him up to ‘rizz’ up girls and 9/10 the girls laugh at him (poor guy lol)

kiyoko

unproblematic and everyone loves her

guys probably spread rumors about her when she rejects them but nobody believes them

you either want to be her or be with her

half ap classes

accidentally starts trends (like fashion trends)

tries to help tanaka with his work but he doesn’t ever pay attention

the only thing people criticize her for is going with tanaka 😭

quiet and keeps to herself

takes super neat notes

drives a pretty nice car and it always smells like japanese cherry blossom

always has one airpod in too

probably class buddies with suga and asahi

girls in the grades below her view her as like big sister

takes low effort instagram pictures and always ends up on the explore page with thousands of likes

suga

takes ap classes

the best and safest driver and offers everyone rides

sketches and doodles on the corners of all his assignments and notes

color coordinated notes with pastel highlighters

people think he’s gay but he just likes cute stuff

shit talks with teachers

everyone trusts him and he is very reliable

boy next door

has the cutest keychains and pins on his bag

‘takes notes’ on his ipad but actually just plays roblox

probably has a job at like a pet store or bakery

daichi

him and suga are the unexpected best friends bc they’re so different

spends all his free periods in the gym working out

has social media but never uses it

drives a truck but isn’t annoying about it

curbs #1 enemy

has really random knowledge about dumb stuff, like you could be complaining about your ankle hurting and he knows exactly how to fix it

he does not tolerate disrespect, shuts it down real quick.

plays cod during his free time

takes all regular classes but his grades never fall below 90s (As)

him suga and asahi get lunch together off campus at least 3 times a week and he always drives

working out 24/7

asahi

works at barnes and noble or a coffee shop

has a car but never drives because it makes him anxious

gets rides from suga

plays word cookies in class

smells really good and citrus y all the time

the craziest rumors go around about him, like about him being a grown man and being held back or being a criminal

nicest guy in the entire school

staff has stopped him in the halls multiple times because they thought he was a grown man and had to see his school ID 😭

always gets vending machine frappes

dresses like a youth counselor

watches movies during class

underclassman call him unc

[crepesuzette2023]

Happy Christmas! Now that the holidays are upon I'm desperate for reunion fics set during the 70s/80s to pass the time and enjoy some reading time! Like, I'd love to dig into long-ass fics/series. Can you recommend any?

Hello there,

I'm also about to disappear into wellness steam chamber of mixed readings, and you caught me just in time! :-)

Here are beloved stories I had to think of when reading your ask:

• The Rumours (@merseydreams). Paul reacts to the "queer rumors" John puts out during the lost weekend. He does so in characteristic fashion: fumbling, hot, sentimental—and successfully.

• Father and Son (@javelinbk). Big favorite. Set in the Brother Dearest AU, where Jim marries Mimi, and John and Paul are step-brothers and secret lovers. In this sequel, they have broken up, but reconnect after Jim dies. Heartbreaking, tense, and romantic—and great supporting roles for Linda and Mike!

• The End (@monkberrymoon). Screenplay-style story set in 1980. John hears that Paul is in New York and going through a tough time, so he decides to pay him a visit.

• Our Version of Events (@javelinbk). John discovers mclennon fan fiction in 1971, and history takes a turn.

• You Will, You Will, You Will (@eveepe). John moves out of the Dakota and reconnects with Paul...and Linda. Hot hot hot, like everything by this writer, who keeps me looking young and fresh

• February in New Orleans (@eveepe). 1975. That trip to New Orleans that never happened. John, May, Linda, Paul, and Paul's porn stache (as seen from a high vantage point).

• i can only speak my mind (@revollver). 1970's. Someone leaks John's diaries to the papers; Paul reads them. Absolutely stunning Paul POV plus John's voice in the diaries—and the two of them making each other who they are. I loved how Paul understood himself through reading.

• Down on the Farm (RosalindBeatrice). Before returning to New York City to begin recording Walls and Bridges, John meets Paul in Nashville to hang out. Set on Sunday, 14 July, 1974 approximately. Wings Paul is feeling himself; John is only human. Hot and light-harted.

Also, check out these additional recs (no overlap with the above) from the always very knowledgeable and organized @whenyourbirdisbroken: • 80's Fix-its

• John and Paul making up after the Beatles break up

• John lives and reconnects with Paul

Finally, the @beatleskinkmeme Secret Santa Collection will be revealed tomorrow, and maybe there's something there to fit your ask...?! (Not a plug: mine's totally different.)

[dresshistorynerd]

I've seen a post you've reblogged and added to, among many things about women showing nipples. Can you recommend any ref material (articles, videos, etc.) are share your knowledge about this? Cause I'm curious about that, as nowadays going out in a shirt without a bra makes you indecent, while in like 90s it was okayish? I wonder how it was in previous centuries.

There is a really cool academic paper about bare breast dresses in 17th century England specifically. I think anyone can read it by creating a free account.

Abby Cox also has a good video about the cleavage during the past 500 years in which she goes through also the nip slip phenomena.

I don't have other sources that specifically focus on this subject, though many sources about specific decades touch on it, but I do have my primary source image collection, so I can sum up the history of the bare nipple.

So my findings from primary source images (I could be wrong and maybe I just haven't found earlier examples) is that the Venetians were the first ones to show the nipple for courtly fashion. At the same time in other places in Europe they sported the early Elizabethan no-boob style that completely covered and flattened the chest. In the other corners of Italy the necklines were also low but less extreme. Venetian kirtle necklines dropped extremely low as early as 1560s and they combined extremely sheer, basically see-through partlets with their kirtle. First example below is a 1565-70 portrait of a Venetian lady with the nipples just barely covered waiting slip into view with a movement of arm. There was an even more extreme version of this with the kirtle being literally underboob style, still with a sheer doublet. Though I believe this was not quite for the respectable ladies, since I have only seen it depicted on high class courtesans. They were not exactly respectable ladies, but they did have quite good social position. The second example is a 1570s depiction of a courtesan, which is revealed by the horned hairstyle. By the end of the century this underbust style with only see through fabric covering breasts, had become respectable. In the last example it's shown on the wife of the Venetian doge in 1597.

Around the same time, at the very end of 1500s, the extremely low cut bodice fashion enters rest of Europe. The low cut style was present in the bodices of all classes, but the nipple was really only an aristocrat thing. The lower classes would cover their breasts with a partlet, that was not sheer. Bare breast was ironically from our perspective a show of innocence, youthful beauty and virtue, and to pull off the style with respect, you also had to embody those ideals. Lower class women were considered inherently vulgar and lacking virtue, so a nipple in their case was seen as indecent. Bare boobs were also a sort of status symbol, since the upper class would hire wet nurses to breastfeed their children so they could show of their youthful boobs.

Covering partlets and bodices were still also used in the first decade of 1600s by nobles and the nip slip was mostly reserved for the courtly events. The first image below is an early example of English extremely low neckline that certainly couldn't contain boobs even with a bit of movement from 1597. The 1610s started around 5 decades of fashion that showed the whole boob. The first three were the most extreme. Here's some highlights: The second image is from 1619.

Here the first, very much showing nipples, from c. 1630. The second from 1632.

The neckline would slowly and slightly rise during the next decades, but nip slips were still expected. Here's an example from 1649 and then from 1650-55. In 1660s the neckline would get still slightly higher and by 1870s it was in a not very slippable hight. The necklines would stay low for the next century, though mostly not in boob showing territory, but we'll get there. But I will say that covering the neckline in casual context was expected. Boobs were mostly for fancy occasions. It was considered vain to show off your boobs when the occasion didn't call for it and covering up during the day was necessary for a respectable lady. You wouldn't want to have tan in your milk-white skin like a poor, and also they didn't have sun screen so burning was a reasonable concern.

1720s to 1740s saw necklines that went to the nip slip territory, though they didn't go quite as low as 100 years earlier. The nipple was present in the French courtly fashion especially and rouging your nipples to enhance them was popular. Émilie Du Châtelet (1706-1749), who was an accomplished physicist and made contributions to Newtonian mechanics, was known in the French court to show off her boobies. An icon. Here she is in 1748. Here's another example from this era from 1728.

The Rococo neckline never got high, but in the middle of the century it was less low till 1770s when it plunged into new lows. In 1770s the fashion reached a saturation point, when everything was the most. This included boobs. The most boob visible. There was a change in the attitudes though. The visible boob was not a scandal, but it was risque, instead of sing of innocent and did cause offense in certain circles. I think it's because of the French revolution values gaining momentum. I talked about this in length in another post, mostly in context of masculinity, but till that point femininity and masculinity had been mostly reserved for the aristocracy. Gender performance was mostly performance of wealth. The revolutionaries constructed new masculinity and femininity, which laid the groundwork for the modern gender, in opposition to the aristocracy and their decadence. The new femininity was decent, moral and motherly, an early version of the Victorian angel of the house. The boob was present in the revolutionary imagery, but in an abstract presentation. I can't say for sure, but I think bare breasts became indecent because it was specifically fashion of the indecent French aristocracy.

Here's example somewhere from the decade and another from 1778. The neckline stayed quite low for the 1780s, but rose to cover the boobs for the 1790s.

The nipple didn't stay hidden for long but made a quick comeback in the Regency evening fashion. It was somewhat scandalous by this point, and the nipple and sheer fabrics of the Regency fashion gained much scorn and satire. The styles that were in the high danger nip slip territory and those that allowed the nipple to show through fabric, were still quite popular. The sleeves had been mid length for two centuries, but in 1790s they had made a split between evening and day wear. The evening sleeves were tiny, just covering the shoulder. Showing that would have been a little too much. Like a bare boob? A risque choice but fine. A shoulder? Straight to the horny jail. (I'm joking they did have sheer sleeves and sometimes portraits with exposed shoulder.) But long sleeves became the standard part of the day wear. Getting sun was still not acceptable for the same reasonable and unreasonable reasons. Day dresses did also usually have higher necklines or were at least worn with a chemisette to cover the neckline. Fine Indian muslin was a huge trend. It was extremely sheer and used in multiple layers to build up some cover. There were claims that a gust of wind would render the ladies practically naked, though because they were wearing their underclothing including a shift, which certainly wasn't made from the very expensive muslin, I'm guessing this was an exaggeration. Especially though in the first decade, short underboob stays were fairly popular, so combined with a muslin, nipples were seen. Here's an early 1798 example of exactly that. The short stays did disappear eventually, but in 1810s the extremely small bodices did provide nip slip opportunities, as seen in this 1811 fashion plate.

Victorian moralizing did fully kill the nip slip, though at least they were gender neutral about it. The male nipple was just as offensive to them. In 1890s, when bodybuilding became a big thing, bodybuilder men were arrested for public indecency for not wearing a shirt.

[tremordusk]

AAA THEORY - How Lilia’s Tarot Reading will come into Play in the Finale

Spoilers for episode 7

Okay so I’m going to take a pause from literally thirsting over…death XD

Because my brain just thought of something — a theory about HOW Lilia’s tarot spread from episode 7 is going to come into play in the last two episodes.

I was tracking the cards before episode 7 and have compiled my knowledge (and little experience) with tarot in order to make sense of it.

Here is a general idea of what these cards mean:

Death -> usually doesn’t represent physical death in a reading. It is usually implying the end of a cycle, sometimes a relationship or interest and usually implies an increased sense of self awareness. It also indicates a time of transformation.

Queen of Cups -> represents a mature female who embodies qualities of love and kindness and sensitivity. It usually exudes compassion, emotional depth and intuitive wisdom.

Three of Swords -> associated with heartbreak sorrow and emotional pain. There can be a positive interpretation like someone or something will help you see the truth of the situation.

The Tower Reversed -> it’s a warning of things to come and can suggest a resistance to personal transformation. A warning that there will be a big impact on one’s life. The Tower upright notably can be associated to significant change, upheaval, devastation and turmoil. Expect the unexpected.

The High Priestess -> can be interpreted as a disconnection from one’s intuition. It represents mystery, intuition, the unknown, the subconscious mind, and spiritual knowledge.

Three of Pentacles -> education, apprenticeship, research, and can also be effort, dedication, resolves, commitment, and the value of collaboration.

Knight of Wands -> Upright meaning: represents a surge of energy, daring adventures, and self assured confidence. It signifies the completion of tasks and the fulfillment of goals. In short urging us to finish what we start. The knight ushers in the spirit of the hero, brave and rebellious and moves towards positive changes with an open mind and free spirit.

- Reverse meaning: warns against arrogance, lack of self discipline and recklessness, fear and lack of enthusiasm or ambition. The Knight advises caution and encourages us to think before we act, and to avoid rushing in without considering the consequences.

Ok so now that I got that out there, I was pretty convinced Lilia will come back in some capacity — because she said it herself in this episode, time is an illusion. And we watched her experience her life in a non-linear fashion. She also said to Agatha before she sent her on her way; “When she calls you a coward, hit the deck.”

Now I originally thought huh, she’s probably telling her to dodge because we know that Agatha and Rio will quarrel— but again Lilia experiences her life out of order…so what if she’s telling Agatha to call upon her magic when she fights Rio?

She could have told her to duck, but she specifically says “hit the deck” and that could be in reference to Lilia’s tarot deck.

Here’s where I think Lilia’s last reading holds more weight than just this episode:

Following how she reads the cards:

- Queen of cups -> “Empathetic, intuitive, inner voice to be trusted.”

This card is in reference to Lilia— she is the wise mature woman of their coven and holds vast knowledge. However I want to point out her choice of “inner voice to be trusted” could not only be in reference to her trusting herself but also that her coven can rely on her. “When she calls you a coward, hit the deck” -> “inner voice to be trusted” as in Agatha should trust herself or rely on Lilia’s magic when the time comes. Perhaps Lilia may come back to Agatha as an inner voice or spirit as moral support.

- “What’s missing? Three of Pentacles. Collaboration, community, singular voices waiting to harmonize. I needed you my coven.”

This is probably the more obvious one— Lilia needs the coven as much as Agatha and co need her. There will be collaboration at the end of the road, it’s going to be a team effort. Most likely to help Agatha fight her ex (oof).

- “The Path behind. The Knight of Wands. Full of fire. Fights bravely.”

It’s upright when she reads it. As mentioned above the upright can resemble a call to finish tasks -> interesting how this is the path behind card and in reference to Alice. Note how Lilia refers to this card in the present tense. This could potentially mean that Alice’s task isn’t quite finished yet. Perhaps “I’ll see you at the end” in her mother’s ballad may mean more than we think. She could show up as a ghost or potentially through song -> her mother’s ballad protection spell becomes Alice’s protection spell to help her coven. Hence how she’s the path behind and yet still fights bravely. Perhaps the reverse melanin of the card has already played out— to note they use both upright and reverse in reference to Billy, so there could be something there.

- “The Path Ahead, High Priestess. Immense spiritual power, unable or unwilling to use it.”

This card Lilia references Jen— Lilia clearly knows something. This is most likely in reference to Jen’s state of mind. Mentioned above, the High Priestess can mean a disconnection from one’s intuition. So yes, I think in the finale Jen will break free from whatever is bounding her (herself), but going back to the three of pentacles it won’t be possible without her coven and without Lilia. We see her bond with Lilia in episode 7. I think Lilia’s sacrifice will have the hugest impact on Jen, teaching her the “inner voice to be trusted”. Perhaps Lilia’s faith in her coven will be what Jen needs to stand at full power to help Agatha and Billy in the oncoming fight.

- “Obstacles. Three of Swords. Heartbreak, sorrow, grief.”

We know this one is Agatha. It’s definitely in reference to her grief with losing her son, Nicky (grief), but I think also implies her trauma (sorrow), and her relationship with Rio (heartbreak). Agatha’s trial isn’t over and she needs to trudge ahead— Lilia knows this and says “when she calls you a coward hit the deck.” Agatha is going to need to call upon her coven in order to get through her obstacles. What if she’s there telling Agatha to call upon her when she’s at her lowest? Or Agatha remembers her words when she’s backed in a corner..

- “the windfall…tower reversed. Disaster, destruction, sudden upheaval, but reversed, it means miraculous transformation.”

Billy will go through a transformation of some kind, and rather than finding his brother, I’m more certain it’s going to be his identity as William Kaplan and Billy Maximoff— because that’s a question he’s wondering. I also think it will be a transformation of his relationship with Agatha, their current relationship is rocky and full of grief and sorrow. They could be making amends. It could also be how his current self will transform after meeting Rio at the end. She may or may not collect his soul.

- “and finally, the destination…”

- “In the end all roads lead to me.”

- “Rio is…”

She’s death. The final destination is Rio. Not entirely— as I mentioned before in tarot Death doesn’t usually mean physical death. it’s indicating closure and transformation. Ironically, Billy’s card is hinting at transformation, so potentially Rio will help him close a chapter on his life (maybe not to collect his soul) but to properly have William Kaplan pass on.

Lilia’s fate already ends with her coven but by sacrificing herself for them she transforms into something greater — even dead she will still be helping them from the grave. Time is an illusion after all ;) and it will be time soon for her coven to “hit the deck” for her advice.

Alice’s task will end when she’s successfully protected her coven. She may come back if Agatha can figure out how to control her powers supposedly. She may also come back in the form of a protection spell to protect her people in their final battle.

Jen’s cycle of self doubt and disconnection with her intuition will come to an end with her transforming into the capable witch she is but even greater because she does it for her coven.

Agatha, (I know y’all are scared of her dying) I’m going to tell you that’s not the case. It WILL be the “death of Agatha” in the sense of her journey of running away from Rio (heartbreak), trauma (sorrow), and Nicky (grief) -> the current version of Agatha will cease to exist. Agatha will learn to trust her coven because when “she calls you a coward, hit the deck” will be in reference to relying on Lilia. She’s going to have to trust her coven if she’s truly going to overcome her obstacles.

Rio desperately wants the Agatha that loved her back. We know she’s a simp— and that she still loves her, she’s just very hurt and angry. Ideally Rio’s pain, or her scar for that matter will come to a close and with it a transformation in Agatha and her’s relationship. I’m mostly going to say they begin the path to healing and coming back together.

To conclude:

Here’s how I think it’s going to go:

- Rio’s trial/Billy’s trial will tell us what their closure and transformation will be.

- Rio and Agatha are going to fight because Agatha won’t deal with her long CYCLE OF TRAUMA - hence she’s a coward.

- Agatha realizing she can’t overcome any of this by herself will realize when Billy stands with her— that she needs her coven: Jen will unleash her full potential and Agatha will hit the deck—a tarot deck that is Lilia’s (and possibly contains Alice’s protection spell) will be with her.

- The whole coven will stand with Agatha with Alice’s protection spell and Lilia’s tarot ( aka there in spirit )

- Agatha will then realize how to control her powers and in doing so Alice comes back from dead (let me have my copium)

- It’s going to end with Rio and Agatha ending how their current relationship is and starting over by letting go of their grief and moving forward together.

I wonder how on point I will be. I solely got this idea from that one line Lilia said to Agatha before she died…I apologize to anyone if this is actually very accurate and you feel spoiled later. Potential apologies in advance!

[lizhly-writes]

@oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin @creative-girl @post-and-out hiya

The thing about faking a relationship was that it was actually pretty simple when party A was from An Ding and party B was from Bai Zhan. There was a particular pattern of doing things that probably looked like good old-fashioned comradeship to anyone outside of these two peaks, but was in fact the absolute height of romance.

This pattern could be summarized as a role-reversal. It was a little more complicated than this, but succinctly put: An Ding disciples started fights, Bai Zhan disciples did paperwork. It was better received if the An Ding disciple was any goodat fighting or if the Bai Zhan disciple was any good at paperwork, but it was generally accepted that it was the thought that counted.

Well. Normally.

Currently, the most popular topic of gossip was Jiang-shidi (An Ding), who was gushing over his Liang-shimei (Bai Zhan) for not only somehow managing to manipulate her way into taking over his duties for three weeks when he'd been out of commission, but also performing them all perfectly, so that he had absolutely no work or mess waiting for him when he got back into the flow of things.

How considerate! How thoughtful! What a declaration of love! All the other An Ding disciples were jealous! Including Shang Qinghua! What, was he supposed to be an exception? He was also from An Ding! Why didn't he have someone perfectly willing and competent enough to take over all of his shit when he needed a break?

Shang Qinghua was never going to get this kind of behavior from Liu Qingge. Alas, Liang-shimei was one-of-a-kind; she was uncommonly multidisciplinary for a Bai Zhan disciple, and utterly determined to leverage all of her talents to get her man. There was currently nobody else like her on Bai Zhan, and Shang Qinghua knew this because if there was, there would be a very obvious swarm of An Ding disciples around this hot and capable contender. Sometimes, you wanted something different from Bai Zhan other than a guy who would kill things for you! You wanted a guy who would kill things for you and do your paperwork! Three weeks of it, in fact!

Jiang-shidi had a cushy deal going on and everyone was going to poison him out of pure envy! Liang-shimei had raised the standards!

Of course, that was the problem. Liang-shimei had raised the standards, high enough that even Shizun had amusedly commented on it. As Head Disciple, it was expected that Liu Qingge would do better than her. Certainly, Liu Qingge would be better than her at, say, killing magnificent beasts and bestowing their heads as trophies at Shang Qinghua's feet, but for An Ding, that didn't count. If they needed to make it look like Liu Qingge was really in love with Shang Qinghua, enough to convince Shizun and Shishu that they should take up the head disciple engagement rearrangement with Sect Leader, then Liu Qingge needed to step into Shang Qinghua's shoes for at least three weeks, and Shang Qinghua was pretty sure that would end in fire, everywhere. Liu Qingge did not have the prerequisite knowledge to do Shang Qinghua's job without dire consequences for the entire fucking sect.

Which meant that it was up to Shang Qinghua to make a proper showing.

Shang Qinghua didn't really want to make a proper showing, because anything An Ding disciples did while desperately trying to impress Bai Zhan disciples was usually pretty damn suicidal.

Shang Qinghua patted Liu Qingge consolingly on the shoulder. "No offense, shidi," he said. "But I don't like you nearly enough for that."

[thelarriefics]

ABO FIC REC, Part IV: Below are more recent abo fics. (Part I, Part II, Part III)

📖 Unrequited by @babyhoneyheslt (143k)

Omega Prince Harry of England has been engaged to Prince Louis of France ever since he was a young boy. Having met him at four and forming a bond, Harry is upset to find that Louis no longer treats him like a friend, instead treating him coldly. However, Louis has his own dark secrets and Harry doesn’t know just how many dangers linger in French Court.

📖 Tangled in your love and light by @likelarryfics (95k)

Harry doesn't have time for romance or finding an Alpha between balancing work, studying and looking after his daughter, Bella. Enter Louis Tomlinson who's a romantic sweet Alpha, determined to win the omegas heart and turns Harry's whole world upside down, making him question everything he's ever wanted and known.

📖 Secrets in Winter by @softfonds (82k)

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

📖 Ace of Spades by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Living as a sheltered omega in a farming village has not prepared Harry for life aboard the most notorious pirate ship to sail the Atlantic. Or Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

📖 Bikestrike by @thinlinez (68k)

What would you do if you saw someone riding your bike, which had been stolen weeks before, across campus? Omega Harry chose to show no mercy. He didn't know it would all lead him to his own demise.

📖 There You Are by @tiredtiredtzofiya (55k)

Prince Harold, youngest pup of the House of Lancaster, has a secret. Louis, a healer at the king’s court with a keen knowledge of plants and herbs, simply wishes to know the shy young prince better. When Harry, the heir loved by everybody yet needed by no one, takes ill after several arduous heats, lonely Louis is the one entrusted to care for him, and the resultant bond that forms between the two tests the limits of in sickness and in health.

📖 Angel Baby by @brightgolden (51k)

When Louis’ sugar-baby-turned-mate suddenly wanted a pup, he simply couldn’t say no to his bright-eyed omega. After all, who didn’t want a mini Harry running around the house? He should have known that it wasn’t all wonderful in the wonderland of baby making.

📖 Some Records Turnin’ by @ireallysawanangel (49k)

Harry is a soft alpha who owns a record store and Louis is a closeted singer omega masquerading as an alpha who randomly stumbles into Harry’s store.

📖 does it always end in heartbreak? by @onlythebravest (47k)

Life never plays out the way one wants it to and no one ever goes through it unharmed. A story of two relationships, two life stages and more than only two broken hearts.

📖 put a little love on me by @larrydoinglaundry (29k)

Two people who are always taking care of someone else’s needs while ignoring their own, just happen to cross paths.

📖 'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by @absoloutenonsense (26k)

When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

📖 Not Safe For Work by @greenblueish (23k)

the one where the boys work at Niall's fashion start-up 28 Programme Designs, and omega Louis has a lot of not safe for work thoughts about his colleague Harry, but little does he know that the alpha can read minds.

📖 Incandescent Love by @marchessa (21k)

the one where Alpha Louis is a world famous musician, who could get anyone he wanted, but instead he fell for a proper omega of high society. Too bad Harry shows no sign of wanting to settle down and start a family with him yet. The omega seems to be perfectly happy with their friends-with-benefits relationship. Louis is pining hard, and he might be running out of time when Harry’s father decides to start meddling with his only son’s future.

📖 Your Eyes Outshine the Town by @insightfulinsomniac (19k)

When a freak French snowstorm traps Harry's family in Paris, he's suddenly left flying home for a Christmas spent alone. However, everything changes after a chance encounter with an undeniably attractive, generous alpha who suggests that Harry join his family's Christmas celebrations. Against his better judgment, Harry agrees, and follows Louis back to Doncaster for the holidays. Little does he know, he'll not only become attached to the alpha, but to his entire family. Maybe his Christmas won't be as lonely as he expected. Complete and utter fluff ensues. Sappy Christmas tropes abound.

📖 Swap me for your shadow by @lunarheslwt (16k)

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

📖 The Room Thief by @2tiedships2 (12k)

When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

📖 No (Birth) Control by @haztobegood (2k)

An unfortunate situation left Harry without contraceptives a day before his heat.

📖 Untraditional Rut by @dreamersdivin-headfirst (2k)

Ever since then, he figured out why he’s never enjoyed his traditional ruts. Because he’s not into the whole primal animalistic stereotype of alpha ruts. He’s into spanking and wax play.

📖 we don't fight fair by @hellolovers13 (2k)

Nothing like a little chase to start off Louis' heat.

📖 hey stupid, i love you by @enchantedlandcoffee (1k)

The one where self-proclaimed Valentine's Day hater, Louis, surprises his boyfriend on their first Valentine's together.

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 4.5 (Jeongin)

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Jeongin has only ever wanted one thing. How did Jeongin come to join SKZ?

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

<< previous ♡ next >>

Jeongin:

The day I told my mother that I wanted to go to fashion school was the same day that my braces had been removed. Though I’d had a passion for clothing and having a great appearance my entire life, fashion school was never really in the cards for me. It was something I had been thinking about for a while, but when I talked to my mother in the car on the way home from the orthodontist… 

“Your father and I put down the down-payment for university today,” she said. I remember not wanting to have that conversation, especially then. I was still in pain from the procedure and still in a mood. 

“Okay,” I replied. 

“You need to declare your major by the end of the week. Your father and I think that with your biology grades, you would fare pretty well going the science route.” Anxiety bubbled in my gut and I started speaking before I could stop myself. 

“I don’t want to go the science route, mom,” I told her. She furrowed her brow in confusion and I hated the way her face looked. I could already tell my words were about to disappoint her. “I want… I want to be a fashion designer.” She laughed. She fucking laughed in my face. And as much as I hated being emotional, especially in front of her, tears streamed down my face. She didn’t notice. I wiped them away too fast. 

“You aren’t going to pursue fashion,” she spat. “Don’t tell that to your father. He’s going to think you might be gay or something. He will not be as kind as I am about this.” 

The words struck like a knife to the gut. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t because I knew she was right. My father would never let me pursue fashion, he would sooner disown me. God forbid I do something that could come across as slightly feminine, I would be a disgrace. And so, we never talked about it again. 

I started school that fall, after I walked in my high school graduation. I had been enrolled as a biology major, much to my dismay. The first semester went swimmingly. I excelled in all of my courses, just as my parents had anticipated. But on the side… I tried not to squash my own dreams. I filled up journal after journal with design ideas. I never showed them to anybody, but I took great care in what I wore. People started to notice. People even complimented me on my outfits, and without my parents there it was possible to imagine enrolling in fashion school and becoming successful. 

The first day of my second semester, I switched my major. I didn’t consult my parents about it but I started attending the classes I had always wanted to. I had never been happier in my life, actually. I struggled a little more than I did in my science classes at first, as the other students had a semester’s worth of knowledge above me, but it didn’t take me long to catch up. I excelled, even, and professors told me that I had the capacity to go far. 

One day when I showed up to my course, the door was locked. Rattling the handle, I remember beung confused. Why hadn’t the professor unlocked the door yet? I wasn’t late, was I? 

“Jeongin,” I heard the professor say as he opened the door. “I received word from the dean and I regret to inform you that you aren’t enrolled in this course anymore.” What? He saw my confusion before he continued speaking. “Your tuition payment has been declined. Your parents have contacted the school and have let us know that you are no longer allowed to attend.” 

I knew immediately what had happened. I didn’t even bother to check my phone, as I knew not to expect any messages. My parents, they were just like that. Passive-aggressive, cold and distant whenever they wanted to be. They wouldn’t have returned my calls if I had tried to reach out, so I didn’t even bother. 

A notice was put up on my dorm room that I had 48 hours to vacate from the premises. I said goodbye to my roommates and to my friends. My life as I knew it was over. It was great while it lasted. 

Packing up one suitcase, I found myself couch-hopping for quite some time. As long as they would let me. My parents had cut my funds off completely and I had been left with nothing. My phone bill was no longer being paid, which was to be expected. It was then for the first time in my life that I knew what it was like to lose everything. In fact, I had never not had everything. I grew up pretty wealthy and privileged, knowing my parents would always be there to take care of me and provide for me. 

The only thing able to sacrifice that security was my dream. 

I knew I needed to start making money. Somewhere deep down I had the thought that maybe if I made enough money I could find a way to enroll again on my own. I had a buddy who encouraged me to start selling drugs with him, and while I was hesitant at first I realized just how much money it made. For someone who was without a phone, had no means to get food and had no apartment, it sounded like a pretty good deal. I had already lost everything. What more could have been taken at that point?

I started selling drugs and living on the streets. I was only 18 years old. I had never touched the drugs myself, but did whatever questionable job that I had to do in order to make as much money as I could. The people I ended up surrounding myself with… they were questionable, to say the least. Sometimes I ended up feeling unsafe around them but I put up a fake smile and fought back the voice in my head that told me to run. 

One day I ran into him. The first thing I noticed about him was his outfit. He looked well put together and jealousy had bubbled in my gut ferociously. The man was a few inches shorter than me with long, beautiful blonde hair and feminine features. He walked with confidence and dominance that I had never seen someone possess. He looked border-line angelic but the deep timbre of his voice surprised the crap out of me. 

“You seem like a good kid,” he said. It was the first time since I left school that anybody had tried to look into the deeper qualities of my personality, to see past me for what I am. A drug-dealer. With just one look, the man seemed to have made a decision. 

“Your gang is getting raided tonight,” he said. “My team and I. We’re coming in here and fighting you for all you’re worth. We’re going to win. You know they’re a bunch of good for nothing scum, right?” I nodded my head solemnly. “You should leave,” he advised. 

“I have nowhere else to go,” I told him. “I’ve been disowned. This is all I am. This is all I have now.” 

“Do you really believe that?” he asked. I shrug my shoulders. “If you get the Hell away from here tonight, I will find you again. Me and my team… SKZ. If you want to, you can join us,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to my leader.” 

When he left I was trembling though I didn’t know why. All he left me with was his name, Felix. He seemed good enough, and for some reason I trusted him. I left everything behind, the people that integrated me into their gang, all of my money and all of my drugs. I hauled ass out of there. By the sound of the police sirens, I could tell that Felix was right. I did the right thing by leaving. The next day I heard that some of my gang had ended up dead, others ended up seriously injured and in custody of the police. A thought had flashed over my mind, of me dying there that night with the others. My parents would go to my memorial service and grieve for their dead son and they have no fucking right to do so. That’s not how I wanted it to end. I will end up at the top of the fashion industry and make them feel sorry that they had ever doubted me. 

Felix found me again, just like he promised. He introduced me to his leader, Bang Chan. The guy was intimidating but he extended his trust to me which I appreciated. All I needed to do was show my undying loyalty towards him and he would give me food, money and a place to stay? It seemed too good to be true. 

“Jeongin, I’d like to see you in my office,” he said to me one day. It had been almost a year since I decided to join SKZ. When I joined at first, I didn’t exactly realize what I was getting myself into. The mafia, that is. But the way Felix described it to me… ‘We’re going to make the world a better place.’ It didn’t sound all that bad even if the means were unconventional. 

“Yes?” I asked him, sitting down in the wooden chair facing his desk. 

“What do you desire above all else?” he had asked me. His question had caught me off guard. 

“May I be frank?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what his intentions were when asking me that, but by that point I had started to become comfortable. Felix, Seungmin, Jisung… They’d become my friends. People I could turn to. The first ones to support me and even ask to see my designs, which I showed them willingly. 

“I want nothing more,” he responded. 

“I want to go to fashion school,” I admitted. “I’ve always dreamt of it. I tried to pursue it, but that dream tore me apart from everybody I had ever loved. I need to go now. I need to prove them wrong, but I want to prove myself right.” 

He mulled over my words. “Very well,” he had said. “I would like for you to sign a contract. If you stay here with us for another three years and show your complete honesty and loyalty, at the end of your contract I will pay your tuition in full.” 

My heart skipped a beat at his words. Was this the opportunity that I had been waiting for? “You’re not serious,” I had said. 

“Dead,” he smiled. “I’m an honest man, Jeongin. You prove to me that you’re one of us, I’ll make it worth your while. Do we have a deal?” 

I thought of the things that he had made me do up until now. Murdering, infiltration, arms dealing… even running some of the more sketchier businesses in the area, because if SKZ is the one in charge of them, then we know everyone is safe and protected and there’s no dirty business happening underneath our noses. Everything that we’ve been doing, it’s for the greater good. 

‘Do I really want to be stuck doing this?’ I had thought. Is signing a contract a good idea? I thought of my mother laughing in my face just a few years prior when I had told her about my dream for the first time. That young, bright-eyed boy wanted his mother to support him, to tell him that he was going to do great things and that she would be there for him no matter what. Instead, she had laughed in his face and made sure first-hand that his dreams would crumble and burn before his eyes. My parents had not even contacted me one time since I had left school. 

Instead there was a man right in front of me offering me everything I had ever wanted. I would do it, no matter the cost. 

“Deal.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

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@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ;

[drunk-on-dk]

[Teaser] Over the Country Club | Yoon Jeonghan (M)

pairing: best friend!Jeonghan x afab!reader genre/tags: fluff, angst, smut (minors do not interact), friends to lovers, a bit of unrequited love, a slice of life au, college au, post-grad au rating: 18+ (minors do NOT interact) w/c: ~3k TEASER (estimated ~15-20k for full fic, currently this may be my longest fic yet and it feels so good to really be writing again) warnings: mentions of alcohol (underage is not condoned), future smut

Summary: Jeonghan and you have known each other for as long as you can both remember. From the years spent working at the country club, to your university days, there has always been this aching feeling that neither of you can quite understand. Someone falls first, but the other falls harder.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts on this teaser! I've been working hard to get back into writing in the new year and wanted to get comfortable with diving more into the plot. Things may change when the full fic is posted, but not much of what's in the teaser! I hope you enjoy it, and of course please message me if you'd like to be on the tag list for this fic!

I. 4th of July, the Summer Before the First Year of University

Just like every other high school student in your town, Jeonghan and you found part-time jobs at the oh-so-prestigious country club located in the next town over. One could argue it was practically a full-time job since most part-timers worked upwards of 40 hours a week due to how busy the club got during the summers. 

Not that you would complain about the hours; to be fair, you had to save up a substantial amount of money for the upcoming transition to college. The realization hit soon after graduating high school, you only had enough pocket change to fund some expenses,  which was not nearly enough to get you comfortably through the upcoming semesters. You had worked at the club most summers, but this year you took all the hours they offered. 

Plus, you’d be crazy to admit that summers working at the Lakewood Country Club weren’t some sort of fun. Plenty of your peers worked there, including Jeonghan, your longest lasting friendship due to the proximity of living next door to one another and growing up attached at the hip. 

Jeonghan worked as a caddie on the golf course. He’s gentlemanly in appearance, has just enough knowledge about what type of club to use at each hole, and has a never-ending spunk that entertains whatever group of golfers he’s assisting for the day. Jeonghan made decent tips working as a caddie, earning a couple of hundred dollars from some of his return golfers who specifically requested his assistance for an 18-hole outing. One could assume that most members of the country club were very well-off, or at least living comfortably. 

Luckily, you were stationed at the halfway house most days this summer. It’s located in the heart of the golf course, and the club consistently blasted cool air conditioning in the exposed, open bar area that was meant for golfers to stop by. Jeonghan, as scheming as ever, would ensure that his golfers stopped by for a quick refreshment at some point, knowing that he’d get to spend some time with you and help you earn some extra cash in tips from his already rowdy crew. 

You’d mix up some Manhattans or Old-Fashioned’s for the golfers, knowing the usual orders for each club member as if they had been engrained on the back of your hand (in hindsight, a freshly graduated high schooler should not have been pouring alcoholic beverages, but the country club didn’t care - your labor was cheaper than hiring a professional tender and you learned just the basics just fine). Nonetheless, your cocktails were a treat for the golfers who had been drinking beers for most of the course, most of them lukewarm or gone by the time they made it to the halfway house. 

Today is the Fourth of July, marking the mid-way point of your last summer before college. You had made your fair share of tips this summer working at the halfway house, especially due to Jeonghan’s consistent sourcing of clientele at your bar. It was a particularly hot day, one of the hottest of the summer and plenty of customers had stopped by, leaving hefty tips, feeling generous either from the heat or the holiday. 

Jeonghan approached the bar area with a heavy sigh, parking his cart hastily, but still had his typical mischievous smile etched onto his features as a crowd of familiar golfers followed behind him. Your nose scrunched in feigned disgust, a teasing smile mirroring his upon noticing just how tired and sweaty the group was from the relentless summer heat. 

Part of you thought he looked angelic from the way his sun-kissed skin gleamed, but you’d never admit that, nor would you dare to speak those thoughts out loud, not even to your closest friends who weren’t Jeonghan. However, the other part of you remembered he was just your silly best friend who smelled slightly like fresh-cut grass, sunscreen, and a hint of whatever remained of his tropical cologne. 

“The usuals?” You beamed, flashing your best customer service smile at the group, already reaching for the bottle of top-shelf whiskey displayed behind you. You received hoots and hollers along the lines of “Yes, please” from the group. Jeonghan slips behind the bar as you expertly begin to prepare drinks for the parched golfers. Normally, this was frowned upon, but Jeonghan had most of the country club supervisors wrapped around his finger. 

Jeonghan’s quick to sort through the fridge right off to your side, squatting and contemplating his options, but you have to smack his hand away from the cooler once you notice his deft fingers are reaching for a plastic shooter of whiskey.

“Y/N,” Jeonghan practically cries out, whining similar to a little boy being scolded, but he’s just your immature best friend who has a knack for trouble and stealing. You can’t always let him get away with everything. 

“You kleptomaniac, don’t you dare,” you joke, routinely preparing the drinks, laughing at the puppy dog eyes that are flashed in your direction and then back to the cold fridge. You bend down next to him, whispering quietly so that no one but Jeonghan can hear. “Wait until later, today’s manager has been keeping inventory of the alcohol as if they personally own it all. I can sneak some after my shift when I cash out.” 

Jeonghan’s pout morphs into a smirk, a devious glint in his eyes as he holds out his pinky finger. You comply, wrapping your pinky with his to silently promise that you’ll follow through later. 

“Meet at hole 12? Right at the hill behind the trees? It’s still the best spot for fireworks.” Jeonghan speaks as if it’s a secret mission - as if it’s not the same spot you’ve met to watch fireworks for the last few years working at the country club. 

“Oh, I thought we’d check out the views at hole 17 this year,” you roll your eyes mockingly, Jeonghan knows you’re messing with him, but it’s your smile that betrays your teasing, “Duh, Jeonghan. I’ll catch you there later.” 

“You know hole 17 is where Mingyu and Arin lost their virginity to each other last year,” Jeonghan pokes, settling on bottled water from the fridge and standing back up, towering over your own figure. You feel your cheeks flush, a bit flustered he’d drop that information so casually, and sure as hell hoping he didn’t think that you were suggesting anything. 

You didn’t see Jeonghan in that way, he didn’t see you in that way. Plain and simple. You two were only best friends and that’s how it would always be. 

“That’s gross, Jeonghan,” you scowl, willing away the blush that is still burning your face as you finish garnishing the drinks. “Don’t air out people’s secrets like that. That’s personal. Plus, why would I know that?” 

Jeonghan chuckles, shrugging as he helps you carry the drinks over to the golfers who have made themselves comfortable among the shaded seating outside the bar area, an outdoor fan helping cool them down. They all clamor in delight as Jeonghan and you emerge from behind the bar with the chilled drinks, quick to "cheers" each other before savoring the first sip of their beverages. 

There are smacks and sighs of delight from the group, your pride growing as they approve of the drinks, and gather up some cash for a tip. Jeonghan nudges you, urging you to accept the bills from Mr. Choi, a polite older man who continues to take care of Jeonghan and you each summer. He’s never been creepy, and he tips very well. You still feel slightly guilty each time you accept cash from him. 

“Thank you, Mr. Choi,” you speak graciously, accepting the tip, quickly shoving it into your pocket without checking the amount, and earning an approving thumbs up from the man as he takes another sip of his cocktail. 

“Save it wisely, Y/N,” Mr. Choi chimes, humming in thought, and eyes flickering between where you and Jeonghan stand. “Jeonghan tells me you’re both attending the same university in a few months. Heard you’ve both received a pretty good scholarship, even one from the club?” 

“That is correct, sir,” you nod excitedly. Not only had you both received an academic scholarship from your university, but all your years working at the club have paid off in a way you wouldn’t have imagined, earning a scholarship from the Lakewood Country Club members' foundation. “I am grateful to have received such an award. Don’t worry, I’ll make good use of it. I know Jeonghan will too. You’d never guess, but he’s a straight A student,” you tease, hiding your mouth only for Mr. Choi to see as if Jeonghan can’t hear you, and elbowing your friend in the rib cage, earning a pained groan from him. 

Mr. Choi nods in approval, a smile creeping onto his face as he chuckles at the dynamic between you two. “Glad to know my money is going towards two bright futures.” Jeonghan is pushing your bony elbow away, annoyed at your enthusiasm and teasing, further amusing Mr. Choi. “Jeonghan, make sure you don’t lose sight of Y/N during University, all sorts of partners will be chasing her. She’s intelligent and beautiful. Don’t want her forgetting about you now, do you?”

Jeonghan would groan if it wasn’t for the fact that it was Mr. Choi speaking to him. He has to restrain himself from shoving you away as well, knowing that Mr. Choi has inflated your ego a bit too much with his praise. Nonetheless, Jeonghan plays into it. “Nope, she’s stuck with me, so don’t even worry about it.”

You almost laugh out loud, reminding yourself to remain professional on the course as you fire back. “As if, Jeonghan couldn’t get rid of me even if he wanted to.” 

“Valid point,” Jeonghan grumbles, teasingly pushing you back towards the bar as if reminding you of your duties, sick of hearing the constant praise that only you’re receiving, even though there have been no additional visitors since Jeonghan’s entourage of golfers arrived. He’s quick to enthusiastically round up the crew, realizing daylight will quickly dwindle by the last hole if they don’t start back up soon. “Welp, we better let Y/N continue to work. Ready for hole 10?” 

The men are quick to gather, knocking back the remainder of their drinks, and returning to their carts as Jeonghan helps you clean up the finished glasses, your shoulders bumping into each other as you two push your way back into the bar. Mr. Choi sends a knowing look Jeonghan’s way, neither of you catching it as he wishes you a nice Fourth of July. 

“Thank you, Mr. Choi!” You wave to the man, bidding the rest of the golfing crew a nice holiday as well before turning to Jeonghan who’s finished carrying over the rest of the empty glasses. “Catch you later, Hannie?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan’s eyes lit up yet again upon hearing his childhood nickname, and is reminded of the nearing shenanigans later this afternoon. Maybe he’ll steal some snacks from the members gifting table for tonight. “I’ll see you then stay cool, Y/N!”

“You as well! Make sure to reapply your sunscreen,” you shout back, watching as Jeonghan hops in the cart with Mr. Choi and rolls his eyes at your nagging. Mr. Choi gets one final laugh before Jeonghan drives off, the entourage of golfers following closely behind. 

You’re finishing cleaning up the bar, pulling the cash from your pocket earlier and gasping upon realizing just how much Mr. Choi had tipped you. A five-hundred dollar tip. It was surely the most you’ve ever made in one round of drinks, absolutely unwarranted, and it made you feel a bit teary-eyed. You knew you couldn’t dare to return it, as Mr. Choi would definitely be offended, but you felt extremely lucky to have such nice members visit you at the halfway house, you’d have to thank him eventually. 

The rest of the day went quickly, and, much to your delight, you had made enough tips to support a chunk of your tuition and expenses for the year. Also, your manager had swapped shifts with another supervisor mid-day, who was not as hawklike. 

Leading up to the completion of your shift, you had snuck a pair of alcoholic shooters into your uniform skirt. Even in your attempt to be rebellious, you couldn’t just steal the shooters, using some of your tip money to cover the cost of the alcohol and you felt less criminal. You knew Jeonghan would tease you relentlessly about this if he was here, each shooter was no more than $3 each, but you had a knack for doing the “right thing,” or else you feared karma would get you in the long run. 

Upon reaching the end of your shift, you stopped back at the employee locker room to safely store your tips in your purse. The day had been hot, but it was cooling down now that night was approaching. 

Ultimately, you opt to throw on a sweatshirt, one that Jeonghan had purchased when you two had toured your university, which was the same one that he’d worn so many times that it’s the most comfortable piece of clothing you own. One that he couldn’t deny you of when you begged to keep it, secretly thinking that you looked cute in it even though you were practically swimming in the fabric. Disgusted that he’d even thought that, he dismissed you quickly and said you could keep it. 

The sun was setting minute by minute, meaning that Jeonghan’s shift would be finishing very soon, and you packed away the remainder of your items in your employee locker, double-checking that your skirt still had the tiny plastic alcohol bottles hidden away. 

After confirming you had said shots, you headed out to hole 12 with a spring in your step. It was a meeting spot you and Jeonghan had found your summer after freshman year of high school. There was a hill behind a bunch of trees that overlooked the valley where the main portion of the country club was located. No one was allowed on the course during after-hours, but this spot was so dark and secluded that you two hadn’t been caught yet. It was also the prime viewing spot for the club’s fireworks show, and it was your little secret. 

You were first to make it to the spot, plopping down on the hill and huffing in relief. Your legs ached a little from standing all day. The grass beneath you was dewy from the cool nighttime air, the humid heat from the day settling on the greenery, and it was almost enough to make you feel itchy. However, you don’t mind it, not when you have the fireworks show to look forward to. You would never mind the damp grass, especially not when you had a favorite summer tradition to share with your favorite person, your best friend. 

Jeonghan’s shift ended a bit later than yours, but he didn’t arrive at the spot much later than you. He meant to grab a bag of popcorn or something, but he didn’t want to leave you hanging for too long. 

Jeonghan tried to sneak up on you, but you’re too smart, too knowing of his antics. So when you turn around knowingly, with two opened Whiskey shooters in hand, he chuckles almost maniacally at your annoyed expression that doesn’t fully translate into your impish eyes. You two were one and the same. 

“What are you waiting for, Hannie? These shots aren’t getting any colder. Not when they’ve been in my skirt for the past hour.”

“Eugh, now you’re the one oversharing,” Jeonghan groans in disapproval, sitting down next to you on the grass, and gratefully accepting the shot regardless of your TMI comment. Your knees knock each other as you turn to face him, but a friendly touch isn’t foreign to either of you. “You’re the gross one, Y/N.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you giggle, holding the shot out in front of him and teasingly shaking the plastic bottle. You sing song, “The night’s not getting any younger either.”  

Nodding in acknowledgment, Jeonghan smirks and shares a few words, “Cheers to our last summer before we’re miserable college students. Cheers to fewer hours spent in the heat at this country club. Cheers to our everlasting friendship.” 

With his final words, you’re both knocking back your shots, groaning in unison as the spicy drink burns and settles in your stomach, instantly warming your body at the sensation. Your face scrunches up at the taste and Jeonghan can’t help but laugh uncontrollably.

“Stop it,” you whine, your voice a bit hoarse from the alcohol but smiling nonetheless. “You aren’t any better than me. Anyways, that's enough for me tonight.”

“True,” Jeonghan contemplates, but he’s quick to poke you. “But I didn’t struggle as bad as you did.” 

“Touché,” you hum, nudging Jeonghan’s shoulder excitedly as a warning firework darts into the sky, indicating the show will be beginning shortly. “It’s starting!” 

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan is groaning at your bony elbow yet again digging into him, but he’s delighted by your excitement regardless, shoving you back as you begin to readjust for the show. “Calm down, it’s nothing crazy.” 

“No, Jeonghan,” you grin, turning your head to fully make eye contact with his wide eyes, joy flickering in your own as you peer at your best friend. “It’s nothing crazy, but it’s absolutely so special because once again we get to enjoy it here together.” 

Your emphasis on the word together almost makes him shiver, a foreign feeling rushing through him as you continue to gaze at him with those wild eyes of yours, gulping as he hesitantly nods, even though he wholeheartedly agrees it is special, but he’s not exactly sure why. “Very true,” and as if on cue, the fireworks show begins, relief flooding through him as you redirect your gaze and squeal in excitement. 

Jeonghan doesn’t understand why, but his heart pounds in his chest throughout the entire show. He thinks maybe it’s the alcohol (you and he rarely have dared to sneak alcohol before), maybe it’s the overstimulation of the fireworks, maybe it’s the thrill of knowing the golf course guards could spot you any year and escort you away, or maybe it’s the way your knee keeps brushing his thigh reminding him of just how close you two are. How much you are together here alone, just like every other summer. 

It’s a feeling he decides to ignore for the rest of the fireworks, letting himself lay back on the damp grass with you and listening as you enthusiastically point out your favorite fireworks, bickering with you when he thinks a different type of firework is prettier. 

It’s a feeling he continues to ignore as the finale comes and goes, chest fluttering at the way your eyes sparkle with golden reflections of the fireworks in the sky, and once again quickly redirecting his gaze to anything but you. 

It’s a feeling he tries his damnedest to ignore as you both continue to lay in the grass post-fireworks. Neither one of you making the first move to go home. Maybe you thought this would be the final moment of normalcy between you and Jeonghan before starting university, knowing that all friendships are bound to change with such a new chapter. Maybe he thought he’d figure out whatever it was he was feeling if he just stayed here with you a moment longer. 

It’s a feeling he struggles to ignore as you both fall into deep conversation. The one shot of alcohol makes you both loose-lipped as you reminisce on embarrassing high school stories. Reminiscing on your shitty boyfriend who broke up with you before the summer. Reminiscing on your years of friendship. 

It’s a feeling he no longer can ignore when you roll over, lips pouting and eyes teary as you start to feel emotional about your recent breakup. Something in him feels like it shatters when you ask, “Have you ever been in love before, Hannie?” 

[ilikekidsshows]

What Marinette and Sakura had is similar but different that I find it pretty hilarious. Marinette is being hyped as strong female lead, best Ladybug and best Guardian when those are lie. While Sakura from Naruto is being trashed for being trash and useless when those are lie. Like sure, Sakura in s1 isn't really that good. The only good thing about her is her cakra control but she didn't stop there, after Sasuke betrayal she become determined to be better so she would be able to help her friends and she end up being a great medic ninja. While Marinette is being hyped for no reason but gaslight the audience. What's she's good at? Designing, sure. But in the superhero side? There's nothing in there that worth the hype.

---

The Sakura thing is extra wild, because the canon doesn’t have characters constantly saying that Sakura is useless regardless of all evidence to the contrary, the fandom decided that on its own. Also, like, hot take, but Madara Uchiha sucks in all the ways the fandom insists Sakura sucks but people insist he’s totally cool and not a loser. It just goes to show you that, once a fandom has convinced itself of something, there’s no changing so-called “common knowledge” aka “popular opinion”. And that’s what the take that “Marinette is a good person and a competent hero” has degraded into: just a popular opinion that has very little basis on canon.

Don't get me wrong, Marinette has shaped up to be an awful hero based on morals, but she’s also just plain bad on an observable competence basis. Astruc insists that she is the lone hero while Cat Noir is her sidekick, meaning she should be on the level of Batman or Spider-Man. Trying to claim that either of these heroes couldn't win without supportive characters coming in to prop them up every step of the way would be ridiculous. Yet, Marinette constantly needs to be propped up by her sidekick Cat Noir and other characters too. She’s constantly having nervous breakdowns she can’t overcome without someone else coming over to give her a pep talk. The main hero being a wimp is not heroic.

Marinette is constantly on the verge of giving up and has to be motivated to keep going on by other characters. In ‘Origins’ alone, she got three pep talks and Alya was in danger before she decided to don the Ladybug earrings again. In ‘Volpina’ she was about to give her Miraculous to Volpina before Cat Noir intervened. This is even true in her civilian life with the way she almost skipped a fashion show featuring her own design or her whole “I should just be Ladybug all the time!” moment. The main hero constantly being on the verge of giving up on any goal she’s pursuing is not heroic.

It’s one thing to grow through others’ support to be able to carry your own weight, but Marinette never overcomes one of her fits without outside help. If she was as good of a planner as the show claims, she would have fled when she discovered Gabriel was Monarch and gotten backup, because she should know by now that she’s weak-willed and incapable of withstanding stress on her own. She should have showed up at the mansion of the man the writers confirmed she knew was Monarch with any allies she could gather to begin with. Instead she thinks she can solo Monarch when she’s never been able to get out of a high-stakes situation without backup before. Arrogance and lack of strategic thinking are not heroic.

To make matters worse, when Marinette is having her final battle against her nemesis with none of her allies, like the writers claim they intended from the start, she objectively loses. The wish canonically destroys the world to remake it anew. That means Monarch destroyed the world. It doesn’t matter if he put it back the way it was (mostly) or if Marinette benefits from these changes. Letting the villain destroy the world is not heroic. She’s such a bad hero that she can't even save the day when it really counts. The only other time I’ve seen the heroes lose this badly was in Watchmen, which was an intentional deconstruction of superheroes where said heroes were meant to be seen as unheroic.

Also, like, Marinette’s other accomplishments are also very lackluster. I’m usually the first one to defend Miraculous’ fashion choices, but, really, what has Marinette designed after the retool? The fucking cloaks artists use to protect their clothes from paint splatters that she designed with the prompt “thematically opposing superhero costumes”? Before the retool she designed several accessories that are worn by famous people in addition to a lot of other stuff. Even more glaringly her four and a half seasons long love quest where she struggled with confessing to the guy she’s in love with was resolved by the guy confessing to her first, while she struggles to reciprocate for the rest of the season even after they get together. The main hero being such a failure is not heroic.

All of Marinette’s series goals, as a protagonist and hero, end in failure. She never could work up the courage to win Adrien over, that was handed to her. She never earned her position as Guardian, she lucked her way into finding the book and being the one nearby when Fu had to transfer his position thanks to the position she put him in. She lost all of the Miraculouses within months or possibly weeks of becoming the Guardian. She let the world be destroyed. Marinette, as a whole, just isn’t a heroic character.

You can’t even argue that Marinette is inexperienced and still learning and that’s why she still loses, because the show explicitly tells you that this is not the case. Ladybug, after gaining all of her full adult powers in ‘Queen Mayor’, still loses. French historical hero Jeanne d'Arc calls Marinette the greatest Ladybug ever and she still loses. This is the best she, or any Ladybug, can do, this is what peak performance from a Ladybug hero looks like: losing the fight and the bad guy destroying the world. The show treats Marinette as a super competent girlboss while she accomplishes nothing of true importance to her or the story. I’m not interested in any Ladybug hero if this is what the best of them can accomplish: nothing. Ladybug isn’t a superhero, she’s a loser hero.

[slowd1ving]

✦ I. PRINCE OF ARROGANCE, PRIDE HAS A HEAVY PRICE

"His fate was sealed the moment he could taste choleric resentment on his tongue, followed shortly by spite: for spite is the desire to thwart. The path he instinctually set out on—to seek knowledge about the abuses of wisdom in the palace—was one that would only end in despair. " • . * cursed prince ratio + alchemist m reader rough design for minoan fashion ratio here warnings: video game violence, death? kind of? tyranny (are we surprised), male-coded reader (or at least the in-game avatar is) wc: 1.5k

LAMENT OF OUROBOROS MASTERLIST

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Eight words rang clear on the Day of Silence against the backdrop of a fruitful year. Amidst the din of the crotalum, woven through the hordes of mute crowds, thus did the honourable Sophos Nous proclaim to His Highness: 

For all knowledge one must pay equal price. 

This was the first and last lesson Sophos Nous ever imparted unto the seventh prince of Metis before THEY left: as quietly as the noiseless festival-goers. Perhaps it would be the only lesson ever recorded to grace the Kingdom of Metis from the Sophos: a feeble mark to acknowledge the extraordinary scholar the seventh prince was. Though, the arrogant youth knew this was anything but; such an obvious deduction was no morsel of wisdom, but a reproachable grain of sophistry that any fool could have mimed. Mimed, because the Day’s hallowed silence had been broken for the first time since its inception, and perhaps that was the biggest insult of them all. 

In his wrought tower, the youngest prince of Elation’s lineage seethed. For the weeks following that sacreligious day, he barely ate, barely breathed: barely lived. From the moment of his birth to this summer, his efforts to earn the venerable Sophos’ acknowledgement had not borne fruit—and now, they probably never would. 

His damson locks tangled in his fingers as he pored over those eight words. They ripped, twisting and breaking and splitting in his desperate grasp. Those records were all he had left of the learnéd being: a measly report detailing the teacher’s crime, summarised in a single paragraph in the battered codex that was unceremoniously dumped on his desk at his request.

If he knew anything about his Sophos, it was that nothing could ever be taken at face value with THEM. Twined in all the manuscripts THEY had written—which Veritas Ratio Metis had reverently studied, every single one—were the buds of dialetheism and bivalence, threading and looping against each other like two snakes on a caduceus. 

Had he missed something?

Deconstructing the sentence literally, the price of knowledge was time and dedication. Nothing came from nothing; obviously knowledge was gained only through cogitation and learning. In less abstract terms, the hippocampus was a finite space and minute neuron connections were lost with each new wisdom gained. Though, such an axiomatic method of interpretation was sure to be fallible. 

Thus, his deft fingers wasted no time in penning a new heading: warning. Presumably, Nous wouldn’t be so kind as to bestow a lesson on the youth: not even out of pity for the erudite young mind who followed THEM around just for a glimpse into THEIR insights. No, Nous wouldn’t have spared him a glance. Therefore, it was not a teaching at all, but rather a last, merciful warning. 

Knowledge was burden. He knew this, Nous knew this—any respectable scholar in Metis knew that ignorance was more oft than not bliss, especially when it came to divinity and existentialism. This much, too, was a salient interpretation of these words. Don’t study things you aren’t ready for. The prince scoffed. A waddling baby knew as much—taking first steps primarily, before learning to run. 

Unless… Upon examining the wording, there was a critical sign in its structure. Four words on one side, four on the other—equilibrium. Life on one side, and certain death on the other. His breathing came in neurotic waves as his pen struggled to keep up with his intuition. It may have been foolish to follow his gut, but there was just something about how the lexicon flowed that dried his mouth and made his tongue leaden with foreboding. 

What is it? 

Seraphic beams of light cast their dappled rays on the gleaming equipment: bronze astrological instruments, beakers and shining ocular lenses; stacks upon stacks of manuscripts and codices, on everything from law to philosophy to anatomy; and the precariously balanced alembic and crucible in the corner, concealed by a large sheet for supposedly warding off dust. 

The gaze of cerise lingered briefly on the alchemical tools. 

Equivalent exchange. 

With a sigh so heavy it brought his youthful appearance into question, he buried his aggravated face in his trembling hands. Neither blessing or lesson was shrouded by the phrase; rather, Nous had lent him an equivocation as a final misrespect. One hint of information, and the other a warning. 

Translated, he gleaned that the Sophos referred to the rumours surrounding Aha and THEIR progeny. Archon basileus—the foolish sovereign and ever-so-foolish descendants. Though the capricious Aha had outlawed the ages-old practice of alchemy and other similar disciplines decades ago, there was hearsay in the stone-paved streets that the imperial family dabbled in activities now heretical to keep control over the populace. Whether it be through transmuting the dissidents to lustrous gold sculptures, or turning insurgents to mindless jesters through drugs and other disciplines, it was clear that Aha held keen interest in monopolising knowledge and ruling with an iron fist. 

Or, at least, that’s what Veritas heard through the reticent walls of his tower. There was no viable method of testing the theory: not when the seventh prince held minimal sway over politics in the gilt palace. 

This was the bitter fruit Nous had broken the sacred silence for. 

You are no match for your family, THEIR eye seemed to lament. 

This knowledge is far too heavy for you, boy, THEIR mouth appeared to rebuke. 

All these years, and you have still not broken from the alabaster coating of a fool, THEIR departure concluded. 

The prince had long surpassed the rest of his peers in mind and body alike, yet with this realisation he was a mere child once more: just another bastard of the lineage. Not to be taken seriously. 

His fate was sealed the moment he could taste choleric resentment on his tongue, followed shortly by spite: for spite is the desire to thwart. The path he instinctually set out on—to seek knowledge about the abuses of wisdom in the palace—was one that would only end in despair. 

But the blame could not solely be attributed to him—for despite his prideful erudition, he was no prophet. A clever mind like his had not yet tasted scholastic defeat yet, begetting carelessness. And to provoke an arrogant, clever, careless youth with no real world experience—yes, provoke, for that is what the esteemed Sophos did—was sure to birth a calamity. 

Indeed, the hubris of the seventh prince led to tragedy borne of his own making; yet, the fault also rested with another. 

This was the ‘price’. 

Two people, bound in impossible balance. 

Eight words, foretelling only disaster. 

This was ‘equivalent exchange’. 

One clever prince, seeking a knowledge far too cataclysmic to bear. 

This was the heresy known as ‘alchemy’. 

On that Day of Silence, the Moirai assigned a fate threaded bloody: all for the modest cost of one lonely prince’s grief. 

. 　⁺ ✦ 

“Oh dear,” the maiden crooned. “It looks like he’s made up his mind.”

The distaff held in HER graceful palms perpetually dripped crimson, though not a single drop bled into the spindle as SHE wove fate: pain, ecstasy, hopelessness, delight. 

“Just like the rest of them,” the matron uttered. “He is a fool.”

Unceasingly, HER rod measured out the new life-threads. SHE impersonally gazed at every strand—quantifying and fairly allotting time. Time, the most precious commodity of anything and anyone. 

The hag remained silent, for HER glinting scissors expressed HER thoughts. Snip. A thread was cut. Snip. A life was lost. Snip. Yet another soul crossed in the afterworld. 

But there was one sanguine allotment of fate that wouldn’t be cut with HER shears. Many a mortal wished for such a boon: bartering with the divine for an extension of their pathetic lives. That was a paradox SHE witnessed time and time again: humans wishing to prolong their misery through staying awake in the raging current of the universe. Death was the true alleviation of suffering—this was the one mercy SHE could afford man and their kind. 

Living and the futile struggle was all humanity had known; SHE understood, in HER omnipotent way, how this stagnancy was a comfort for the lost souls. 

Though, SHE mused, staying alive would not do this particular prince any good. For what gift is evading death, when one cannot truly live?

“It would have been better for him to live under the yoke of his family and die as all mortals should.” The crone’s withered voice was dry from disuse. Under HER shroud, neither the mother nor the youth could see the aged path of tears that meandered down HER wrinkled face—for with age came sentiments, and the Moirai were the oldest of all in the cradle of the universe. 

“Atropos.” It was the maiden who finally replied. “Do you feel sorry for the boy?”

Snip. Another marked fate concluded—though not abruptly, for it had been ordained since the moment of their birth. 

“No,” the beldame answered. “The little prince was warned by a being far wiser than he, taking it only as affront.”

For the first time in centuries, HER shears ceased their steady rhythm. 

“Should I feel sorry for the hart that approaches the arrow out of its own volition?”

. 　⁺ ✦ 

[zzcrypticcoyotezz]

random jp headcanons lets gooo

gonna have lots of alan stuff because i have like. a whole backstory for him lol. he just like me fr so i get to make him trans and autistic.

this is mostly for before the events of JP1 and right after. ian doesn't know he's nonbinary yet. doesn't know until probably... after jp2 i think, when his books become more popular. so i'm gonna be referring to him as a man in this post. (see my post about my nonbinary/genderfluid ian headcanon if ur confused)

-

- ian makes jewelery as a hobby in his spare time. made his turquoise necklace himself. LOVES turquoise.

- ellie has a houseplant addiction. don't ever send her to home depot, she WILL rescue all of the succulents. and once they're healthy, she gifts them to her friends. alan complains and insists he can't take care of a plant, that he doesn't have a green thumb, that he would somehow kill it accidentally within a month. but every time ellie stops by his trailer to come and visit, she notices that little plant thriving, for years.

- alan hyperfocuses so much on his work that he often forgets about everything around him. he could sit in the dirt for hours without end picking at fossilized bones, scrutinizing every tiny detail. at least he remembers to stay hydrated, though, always has his water bottle with him. dehydration is no joke, kids! especially out in the desert!

- alan was raised in a rural christian family. they never understood him or any of his interests. in high school, he had a very kind geology teacher who happened to be gay. he helped alan figure out his identity and get into college to become a paleontologist. alan's parents ended up kicking him out on the morning of his 18th birthday, since he just couldn't be the perfect christian daughter they wanted. without the support of his teacher, alan would've never won a college grant, and he would've been homeless. alan truly put everything into his career. every single time alan tried to write a letter home to his parents, it would be returned unopened, so he had to give up. alan started testosterone at 20 years old, it took him two years to find a doctor willing to help.

- alan and ellie met in college. alan was already a few years into his studies by the time ellie got in. alan had never had very many friends in his life, he tended to keep to himself and work alone. ellie's persistence eventually paid off, and after an expedition to the hell creek formation with the rest of their class, he was impressed with her knowledge of mesozoic plant life, and they became good friends.

- a couple years into their friendship, they realized they both have feelings for each other. alan comes out to ellie, terrified she'll leave him, but she doesn't. she doesn't understand at first, but she tries to, and she does her research (she LOVES researching things). she ends up helping alan a lot, making him a couple of proper binders (no more bandages or tape!) and helps him do his testosterone shots.

- they've dated on and off for a long time before the events of JP1. however, the traumatic events of isla nublar were just too much and put a significant strain on their relationship. their feelings for each other never went away, but ellie just couldn't do dinosaurs anymore, after all she went through. she felt she needed normalcy, but alan is alan and he wouldn't be himself without dinosaurs. so they mutually called it off. and she also always wanted to be a mom. and alan insisted he couldn't, he could never provide her what she wanted. yes, there's other ways to conceive, but it's deeper than that. deep down, he was afraid of turning out like his own father. heartbroken, he had to tell ellie to move on and find someone better for herself. after she began dating mark, alan became distant and isolated himself.

- before ian came into the picture, the only person alan had ever dated was ellie. alan's old fashioned, he never thought that someone like him could also like men too. he'd always distanced himself from anything 'queer', more for his own safety than anything else. but he also struggled a lot with internalized homophobia and transphobia. he thought it was a sign of femininity and pushed aside his attraction to ian for a very long time.

- alan is definitely an unsafe binder. he would often just forget he's wearing it while he's out on a digsite. when ellie's around, she would often have to remind him to take breaks. but when it's just himself, he's stubborn (and extremely dysphoric) so he usually forces himself to power through the whole day, ignoring the discomfort. it's easy to ignore when you're uncovering the remains of long extinct animals.

- thanks to his digsite getting enough funding from hammond, alan finally manages to save enough money to get top surgery about a year after the events of jurassic park. ellie takes time off to help him through recovery, but after that, they unfortunately become distant again. he tells ian he's recovering from carpal tunnel surgery. ian knows he's not telling the full truth, alan is very easy to read, but he doesn't press for more, respecting the man's privacy.

- and yes, this means he was binding almost the entire time while on isla nublar. he was in survival mode, only focused on his own safety and lex and tims', and absolutely nobody could know he's trans, so his stubborn ass powered through it, adrenaline blurring any pain. by the time everyone was rescued and off the island, it turned out that alan had bruised and cracked his ribs.

- for a month after the isla nublar incident, alan and ellie stayed with ian, helping him through the worst of the healing process. there was no way they would leave him alone after such a horrific, life-changing leg injury. it was difficult for alan, juggling a sexuality crisis and having to hide his, well, transness, in another man's household, the same man who caused this sexuality crisis, but he made it work. the memory of that time is a huge blur to ian anyways thanks to the pain meds. during this time, the three began to feel something more for each other, but it remained unspoken. alan doesn't even know that there's anything other than monogamy. unfortunately in my headcanon dinot3 doesn't become real until dominion 💔 i'm a slut for slowburns lmfao

-

okay, this is all i'm gonna write for now! i'd love to hear anybody's thoughts on these. i love these bitches sm they live in my head rent free. honestly i've been tempted to like... make a fanfic rewriting jp1 but with my headcanons, but that's too much work and i have a very bad habit of starting projects and never finishing them 💀 so probably not gonna happen. it's also very difficult trying to find any resources about how life was like for trans men back in the 80s/90s.

[procyonloser]

Adam panted under the heat of the sun, trying in futile effort to hide under a tall cypress. He'd been trying to find food, any food, for most of the day, and the day before it. His stomach was empty and his tongue was parched and drier than the red clay rocks baking in mid day heat. Eve was hidden in a small outcropping a long way back, unable to keep up with him, not in her state - though Adam knew not how long he'd last at this rate.

When Adam saw himself in the reflection of brooks and streams, he no longer recognized his own face. It was gaunt and thin, stringy and wild facial hair covering the worst of it, and he only kept it that way to fend off the biting stinging flies that courted him. His ribs were clear to count, along with the space where one should have sat. The clothing he'd fashioned out of leaves and grasses had to be constantly tightened and pulled up upon thin hips.

Adam only vaguely understood death, he'd seen the empty remains of creatures out in the wild, no meat left on them, only skin stuck to white bleached bone.

Adam understood he was near death.

He wondered if when he died, they'd take a rib from Eve to fashion a new man - a new husband. One that never knew Eden, one who could hunt, one who never fell victim to knowledge.

Adam collapsed against the cypress, wheezing as he slid down it, not caring about the scratches it left across his skin; more than lack of care, he barely felt anything anymore. Besides hunger.

His eyes flickered closed, wondering how he'd be greeted in Heaven, if they allowed him to join their ranks; or if he'd be punished for his ignorance again.

A small growl took him by surprise, and Adam cracked his eyes back open, looking down at a few fox kits that had snuck up close, sniffing near him eagerly. They were hungry too, but they smelled a meal.

He thought it would be his own body, but before him on the ground lay a downed oryx, with a long piece of wood sticking out of it's body. It seemed long since dead, but Adam had only had his eyes closed for a moment. Where had the beast come from? Had it been an act of God? The angels?

He crawled forward on his knees to the creature, grabbing onto the stick to pull himself up - pulling it out in the process. At the end of it, sat a sharp point, made from what looked like stone. Adam marveled at it, wondering if he'd be able to craft something like this, something capable of killing beast like the oryx.

Something capable of giving him and Eve food.

"Thank you, God." Adam whispered to the empty sky. "I will follow your lead."

High up in the cypress, a white bird sat with keen yellow eyes, and red patches on it's face. As it watched Adam cut into the meal with renewed vigor, it flew away.

[lemoncrushh]

Friends Don't

Summary: Harry and Gabriella have been good friends for a few years. But neither of them knows the feelings the other has.

Warnings: Just some smut at the end. 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: Inspired by the song by Maddie & Tae. Real Harry x OC. Written in first person. Originally posted in 2020.

"Gabs..." I faintly heard in the distance as thick strands of sleep threatened to pull from my heavy eyelids. I thought I was still dreaming, so I rolled over, hoping to continue the fantastic scenario I was already starting to forget.

"Gabby," I heard again, much clearer this time, and I knew I was no longer on the red carpet next to my new BFFs Lizzo and Alexa Chung.

A hand tapped me on my shoulder, and with a groan, I lifted my comforter over my head, hoping to return to flashing lights and high heels, but for which event I was unsure.

"GABRIELLA!" the determined voice shouted, pulling the covers from my grip and forcing me to blink several times.

"What the fuck?" I pouted, finally realizing the light was not from cameras but from my roommate's cell phone.

"God, you sleep like the dead!" exclaimed Angie. "I can't believe you can't hear your phone."

"I have it on vibrate," I muttered sleepily, my eyes still mere slits as I tried to reach for my cell on my nightstand.

"So, I can hear it from the bathroom!" my roommate continued. "It's been going off for like the last fucking hour! Somebody's obviously trying to get a hold of you."

"You've been in the bathroom for an hour?" I asked smugly, knowing she had been exaggerating in typical Angie fashion. I didn't need to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes.

"Oh!" I sounded when I inspected the screen. "It's Harry!"

With a huff, Angie crossed her arms. "Doesn't he know some people sleep at night?"

"He's in London," I told her. "It's already morning there."

"Even worse," she spat. "He's famous but still doesn't know about time differences."

"Shh," I waved her off as I tried to listen to the voicemail Harry had left. With another look of disgust, Angie turned for the bathroom that separated our rooms.

"G'night, Gabs. Tell your boyfriend to get a watch," I heard her say before shutting the door behind her.

Shaking my head, I caught the tail end of Harry's message, then played it back once more.

"Gabs, it's me!" he greeted, sounding chipper. I sometimes hated him for his effortless ability to be pleasant before 10AM. "I just...wanted to talk to you. You're probably asleep, sorry. Sometimes I forget. Give me a ring if you're still awake though. 'Bye."

Though that was the only voicemail he'd left, I had three missed calls from him, and two texts.

Hey! Are you there?

Call me when you get this.

Eager to hear what news Harry had to tell me, I pressed the screen to call his number. He answered after the first ring.

"There you are!" he announced.

"Here I am," I giggled, sitting up in bed. I wasn't sure why, but I always seemed to sit up when talking to Harry, like it was an important meeting. I suppose in a way, it was. Conversations with him, though usually light-hearted were some of my favorites, and I liked to give them my full attention.

"Did I wake you?" he asked.

"No, Angie did," I jabbed. "To tell me my phone was ringing."

"Oh, shit," Harry groaned. "Sorry, love."

I laughed. "No worries. What's up?"

"Not much. 'm leaving for the airport soon."

"Oh!" I sounded. "I thought you were flying to LA tomorrow."

"Nope, today."

"Wait..." I shook my head. "It is tomorrow there."

I heard Harry's low chuckle as I mentally cursed my stupidity. Angie would be happy to know Harry was not the only one who had a lack of time zone knowledge.

"So what else?" I inquired. "Anything exciting?"

"No, not really."

"No?" I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Why'd you call?"

"I dunno..." Harry paused. "Just felt like saying hi."

"Oh," I felt my heart jump in my chest.

"I just missed you."

"Oh," I said just above a whisper. "I miss you too."

I heard Harry hum softly which only managed to send butterflies to my stomach.

Harry and I had been friends for a while. When I had only been living in LA for a little over a year, I had lucked out on getting invited to my first celebrity party through a friend of an acquaintance. Though I'd spent most of the evening ducking behind plants and drinking more than my share of vodka, I had managed to meet a handful of people, including Harry Styles and his One Direction bandmates. Through the years Harry and I had managed to stay in touch and form a long-lasting friendship for which I had a large fondness. I never told him I used to have a massive crush on him, however, as I didn't want to lose what we had.

"I have work to do when I get to LA," Harry said, "but then I have two days off. We should...hang out, yeah?"

"Yeah," I breathed, then cleared my throat. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Great." I could literally hear his smile through the phone, as if that's possible. "I'll let you get back to sleep. I'll call you when I get in, okay?"

"Okay."

"Sweet dreams, Gabby."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Disconnecting the call, I returned my phone to the nightstand and crawled back under the covers. I laid awake for Lord knows how long, wondering why Harry had decided to call me in the middle of the night just to say hi. Even if he had forgotten about the time zones, he had never done that before. More than likely he would have waited until he was in LA, and it would have been a quick text to ask if I wanted to meet him somewhere for coffee or drinks. We were only friends, after all, not...together.

Somehow, the heavy cloud of sleep finally fell over me again and I was taken back to dreamland. This time, however, I didn't dream about a red carpet event or my wishful buddies Alexa and Lizzo. This time...I dreamt of green eyes and brown curls, soft lips curled up to meet dimples and inked skin on arms that held me close. And I only wished I wouldn't wake up.

"Gaaaabbyyyy!" Harry shouted into the phone. "How are you, love?"

I laughed, recognizing my friend's drunken voice. One thing I loved about Harry, he was a happy drunk.

"I'm okay, Harry, where are you?"

"I dunno," he said matter of factly. "Some party. I forget who it's for."

"Jeez, must be nice," I quipped.

"Honestly, I wish you were here with me. It would be more fun."

I chuckled again. "I doubt that."

"I don't. Why aren't you here?" he asked with a slight pout in his tone.

"I wasn't invited."

"Oh yeah. Sorry. I should have invited you. You could have been my date."

While his words made my stomach flip, I knew he didn't mean them literally.

Since Harry had been back in LA, we'd hung out together almost every free chance he'd gotten. We'd had lunch and dinner together a couple of days in a row, went shopping to a string of vintage shops that were his favorites, and he even let me check out a studio where he was putting some finishing touches on a song he was working on. When he'd leisurely mentioned going to a party this weekend, I had only let the possibility that he'd ask me to go flitter through my mind briefly before dismissing it. He was a busy musician and celebrity, and certainly under no obligation to bring me as a tag along to such an event. I hadn't even bothered to ask him for whom it was, or if it was entertainment or charity related.

Just then I heard another male voice greeting Harry, and Harry saying "Hey, man!" They exchanged a few more words until Harry returned with a cordial and unnecessary apology.

"Well, it sounds like you're having fun," I commented.

"Eh, party's starting to die down," said Harry. "Think I might leave soon. Can I come by yours?"

"Mine?" I gulped. "Um...what for?"

"Mmm...so I can see you?"

"Well...I mean..." I stumbled, my eyes darting around my room and landing on the unmade bed and pile of clothes in the chair, the collection of empty water bottles on my nightstand and dresser. I hadn't bothered to put a stitch of make-up on that day, and I was wearing an old sweatshirt and shorts, my hair up in a loose bun.

"I wasn't really prepared for company," I continued. "And you just saw me the other day..."

I heard Harry giggle and for a second I thought he might be pulling my leg.

"Never mind. That was a dumb idea. It's late," he said.

"Yeah, it is." I sighed, not a hundred percent sure if it was relief or disappointment.

"Are you going to bed soon?"

"Probably."

"Then I'll say goodnight," Harry offered softly.

"Okay."

"Call you tomorrow?"

"Of course," I grinned, unable to stop it if I tried. "Please don't drive, okay?"

Harry giggled again. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," I said.

"I have a driver. But I like that you care about me, Gabs."

I bit my lip, grateful he couldn't see my face. "Goodnight, Harry. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Goodnight, Gabby. I love- I mean, talk to you tomorrow."

My hand shook as I disconnected the call. Was he about to say...? Nah. My friend had had a few too many and was feeling good. That's all it was. Right?

"So, what do you think?" Harry asked me.

He'd brought me to the studio again after a late breakfast where he'd told me the song he'd been working on was finally finished and he wanted me to hear it. I sat on the leather sofa behind him while he sat at the soundboard. I'd listened to almost the entire song with my eyes closed, letting the music surround me and fill my senses. When the song ended, I wanted to pop my eyes open and scream to him how amazing and wonderfully talented he was, but instead I bit my tongue and decided on a different approach.

"Not bad," I commented, straight faced.

Taken aback, Harry frowned. I watched his nose twitch before he scratched it, then looked away from me and back again.

"Not bad?"

"Yeah, it's a pretty good song." This time, I couldn't look him in the eye, so I brought my foot up to my other leg and pretended to inspect my shoelace. "I like it."

"You're shitting me, right?" he asked, using a phrase he'd heard me use far too often.

Unable to contain my composure any longer, I burst out laughing, throwing my hands up.

"Of course I am, Harry! Are you fucking kidding? It's incredible! You're incredible!"

I saw Harry's chest fall as he let out a breath.

"God, you had me for a second," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Okay, okay, let's be real," I offered, waving my hands in front of me. "You're like off the charts good, alright? That's a given."

"Pppfff" Harry sounded, rolling his eyes.

"No, no, it's true. And you know it. Pretty much anything you put out is going to be great. But..."

When I didn't continue, Harry lifted a brow. "But what?"

"But this..." I raised my shoulders and held out my hands, "I don't know, it's like you just keep getting better. You can't lose. Everything you reach for, you achieve it. And I'm so fucking proud of you."

I could feel myself starting to get a little choked up at my own words, knowing they were absolutely true. Harry rose from his chair then and sat next to me on the sofa. He looked me in the eye as the most gorgeous smile spread across his face and he held out his arms. With no other words spoken, I turned and leaned into him, letting him pull me into a warm hug.

"Thanks, baby," he murmured against my hair.

At least, I thought he said baby. He might have said Gabby, and I've been known to get the two confused before. I didn't think I heard the Gab part though, and I might have just been hearing what I wanted to. Regardless, my insides were a mess when he pulled back and kissed my cheek. His gaze was mesmerizing as he continued to look me in the eye, and for a moment I hoped he would inch just a bit closer so our lips would touch.

I caught the corners of his mouth moving as he lifted a hand from my back to brush away a strand of hair from my face. My own hands were still at his waist from the hug that seemed to linger between us until I heard a noise and I jumped. The door to the soundbooth opened and I looked up to see Tyler.

"Oh, hey there Gabby, didn't know you were coming today."

"Just wanted her opinion on the track we finished," Harry explained for me as I tried to gather myself.

"Oh yeah? What'd ya think?" asked Tyler.

"Phenomenal, of course," I replied, catching Harry's smirk out of the corner of my eye. I was glad he didn't mention my teasing.

"Well, consider yourself lucky," said Tyler. "You're the first person to hear it."

"I am?" I asked incredulously. Then I looked at Harry. "You didn't tell me that!"

Harry shrugged, his smirk turning into a grin.

"And here I thought I was being sly and cheeky."

Harry laughed then, took my hand and rose from the couch, pulling me with him. We both exchanged goodbyes with Tyler, Harry stating he'd be back later that evening. It wasn't until we got outside to his car that I noticed he was still holding my hand.

"What was that?" I inquired.

"Wha'?" he glared at me innocently.

"You let me hear your finished song before anyone else?"

"Yeah. Thought you'd like it."

"Well, of course I did, but that's beside the point," I argued.

Stepping closer to me so that I was trapped between him and the car, Harry reached in his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his keys, his eyes locked with mine the entire time.

"And what's the point, Gabs?" he asked low, pressing the key fob.

"Nothing. Just that it's...special."

A grin grew on Harry's handsome face again, hitting a nerve I hadn't felt before.

"Exactly," he agreed, finally releasing my hand to reach around and open the car door for me.

Staring at him for a moment, I reluctantly climbed inside, locking my seatbelt when he shut the door and walked around to his side.

We drove in silence for what felt like an eternity until I broke the tension and said something.

"Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome," he said.

"You're right, it was very special. I just wasn't expecting to be the first. Not even your mom or sister, or any of your other friends have heard it yet?"

"Nope. Only Jeffrey and Tyler and the band."

"Oh," I mouthed, feeling the butterflies again.

"I only just put it on my phone. But I wanted you to hear it in the studio since you were with me when we were finishing it. So actually, you got to hear it even before it was complete."

"Yeah, but that was just a snippet," I remarked. I wasn't sure where I was going with this. I wasn't trying to argue with him. I just couldn't fathom being the first person he wanted to hear his new music.

"Anyway," I added. "It was very nice of you to share it with me. I feel special."

With another grin, Harry reached across the console and patted my leg. I nearly came unglued when his fingers lingered a little longer and brushed my upper thigh. Electricity shot up my spine and I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping for air.

I must have been gazing out the window when Harry decided to disturb the silence and turn on the radio. I hummed along to a familiar song until I noticed Harry was getting off the freeway, a couple of exits before mine.

"Are we going somewhere else?" I asked, looking at him for the first time since he'd touched me.

"No," he shook his head. "Just thought I'd go this way."

"But...we'll hit way more lights," I said.

Harry chuckled. "You have somewhere to be?"

"No," I furrowed my brow. "It's just...longer."

"Sometimes longer is better."

I stared at his profile for a moment before I started laughing, which soon turned into a cackle. I had to cover my mouth so keep from sounding like a goofy hyena. As I was leaning over, I felt a hand on my back.

"Take it easy, love, it wasn't that funny," conveyed Harry, although I could hear the humor in his voice.

"I know, but I can't stop laughing," I croaked.

"Breathe, babe!"

Harry rubbed my back as I tried to catch my breath, but his babe remark wasn't helping.

"Need me to pull over?"

"No..." I gasped, sitting up. "No, I'm fine now."

Pushing my hair from my face, I tried my best to keep the giggles at bay. Then I took a deep breath and let it out.

"Sorry, Gabs," said Harry. "Didn't mean to get you going there. I just meant sometimes it's nice to take the long way home."

"Oh. Oh! Duh!" I blushed.

Harry smiled, turning up the radio. We sang along to an old Van Morrison song that just seemed to fit the mood for the day. When the next song started, Harry turned the radio down again and cleared his throat.

"So I have another party to attend this weekend," he stated.

"Oh yeah? Are you planning on drunk calling me again?" I jabbed.

"No," Harry laughed, turning down my block. "I was hoping you'd come with me."

"Oh. Really?" Taken off guard, I had no idea what else to say.

"Yeah. Will you?"

"Um...is it...like super fancy? Do I need a new dress...?"

"No, no, it's really casual. It's on the beach, actually. In Malibu. And um...it's overnight."

"Oh!" Damn. I wasn't sure I was prepared for a beach party. A rich, celebrity beach party. A formal event I could manage, maybe. I could fake my way through smiles and photo-ops, small talk and mingling. But casual celebrity parties made me uneasy. And overnight? With Harry?

"You don't...you don't think I'll be...out of place?" I asked.

"What? No. Gabs, you're the friendliest person I know, are you shitting me?"

I couldn't help but laugh at his use of my phrase again. Sometimes he was so fucking cute, and I wanted to kick myself for not allowing myself to notice it earlier. But at the same time I wanted to kick myself for noticing it now.

We pulled up to a red light, and Harry turned to look at me. "Please say yes. I'd love it if you went with me."

If the light hadn't changed, I would have gotten lost in his pleading eyes right then. Instead, as he shifted gears and accelerated, I sighed and gave in to his request.

"Okay. I'll go."

"Yay!" Harry exclaimed, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze. "We'll have a great time."

When we arrived at my place, Harry walked me up to my door while giving me more details about the Malibu party. Angie was in the kitchen making some of her famous oatmeal raisin cookies, of which Harry could not resist. I finally sent him off with four more to take home with him and a reassurance I would go to the party.

"Just making sure," he grinned against the door frame, playing with his keys. "I have to give them a plus one, and I just think I'd have more fun with you than Jeffrey."

"Jeff's not going?" I teased, dismissing the first part of his comment.

"Eh..." Harry tilted his head. "He'll probably manage snagging himself an invite."

I pursed my lips before giving in to his humor. "Bye, Harry."

"Okay girl," I heard Angie say from the kitchen after I shut the door. "Spill it."

"Spill what?" I asked, grabbing my second cookie from the plate.

"The tea. You sure have been spending a lot of time with Harry lately."

"He's fun to hang out with," I said with a mouthful of cookie.

"Oh c'mon. I know I tease you about him and call him your boyfriend. But is there something going on between you for real?"

"No!" I replied a little too hastily, swallowing hard. "You know we're just friends."

"Well I thought you were," she said. "And you say you are, but does he know that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Gabby. Friends don't walk you up to your apartment and stick around for another twenty minutes and keep making excuses not to leave."

"You had cookies," I remarked.

"Gabs! Don't be blind! I heard him saying something about a party."

"Yeah...he invited me to one this weekend."

"His party?"

"No. I'm not sure whose it is. I just know it's in Malibu at some enormous beach house where there's rooms for all of us to sleep over."

Her jaw dropping, Angie wiped her hands on a dishtowel and dropped it on the counter. "Uh huh."

"It doesn't mean anything," I rolled my eyes.

"Okie doke. If you say so."

My roommate gave me the side eye as I walked down the hall to my room. Shutting the door, I leaned against it, wondering if she was right. Had my instincts been correct? Was this more than friendship? Or was I overthinking it and setting myself up to be heartbroken?

I stood outside on the porch beside the wooden railing, overlooking the beach. It was really beautiful this time of day. While a warm breeze still whipped my hair around me, the sun was beginning to announce its descending on the horizon.

The party had turned out to be even more than I'd imagined. While just the house I was standing in was probably the biggest beach house I'd ever been to, the two on either side were also members of the party's location, each complete with their own bar on the veranda. I'd never been to anything so fancy in my life, and in my simple white sundress I felt a little out of place. I'd mentioned my concern to Harry shortly after we'd arrived, but he assured me it was fine, and I looked beautiful. I'd gotten chills when he told me that, and not from the breeze, but when he'd noticed me shivering, he offered to get a sweater from my suitcase to which I declined.

"There you are," I heard behind me.

I turned my neck to see Harry approaching, the look of delight on his face.

"Was wondering where you'd gone," he said, offering me the drink in his hand.

I shook my head. "I'm sticking with beer tonight, and I'm taking a break for now."

"Alright," his smile faltered. "You okay?"

"Mmm, I'm fine," I nodded. "Just, sometimes sunshine and alcohol don't mix well with me, so I'm taking it easy."

"I understand. Speaking of the sun..." he gestured toward the sky that was starting to turn a bright orange just above the waves.

"So pretty, isn't it?" I commented.

"Beautiful," I heard him say, although from my peripheral view, it didn't seem like he was looking at the beach. When I looked up at him, he grinned like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I mean, yeah," he said, stirring the tiny straw in his drink. "This is my favorite time of the day."

We stood side by side as the sun became a golden half orb behind the ocean, and the beach became all aglow with strings of lights from the houses.

"Wanna take a walk before it gets too dark?" Harry asked, holding out his hand.

I took it hesitantly, following him down the steps and onto the sand. When we reached the damp shore, I removed my sandals so they wouldn't get muddy, holding them by the strap with my finger. My dress, though not long enough to reach my ankles, still came past my knees, so I had to lift it with my other hand, giving me no free hand to hold Harry's.

"Here, Gabs," he said, offering to hold my shoes.

With a smile, I accepted, taking his other hand once again. We strolled down the beach leisurely, our arms swinging between us. I teased him a couple of times, threatening to kick water on him, but when he lifted me up and spun me around, I knew my tricks had come to an end.

"Okay, okay, Uncle!" I screamed.

When he finally set me back down, I gave him a playful punch in the arm.

"Meanie," I said, picking up the hem of my dress that had almost gotten soiled.

"You might as well let that down, babe, you know you're gonna get wet," Harry laughed.

"Only if you plan on pushing me into the ocean!" I protested.

"Is that a dare?" He grinned his Cheshire cat smile, and I ran for it.

I was almost to the house when he caught up with me, but I suspected he had given me a head start. I squealed when his arms trapped me and he spun me around again, aiming for the water.

"Harry Edward Styles, let me down!" I shouted.

I never felt so relieved to feel warm sand beneath my feet than I did in that moment. Breathing heavily, I glared up at him, his eyes dancing with laughter.

"You're an ass," I remarked with disdain.

"Aw Gabs. I wouldn't have actually done it. You know me."

I narrowed my eyes. "I thought I did."

I started to head for the house, but Harry stopped me, standing in front of me. "Gabriella. C'mon, I was joking. I thought I was just going along with your game. I'm sorry."

I took a deep breath. "Okay."

Stepping closer to me, he brushed his hand against my bare arm. "I would never do anything to deliberately hurt you, or embarrass you. You mean too much to me. I was just having fun. That's why we're here, right?"

My face softened and I nodded.

"Forgive me, love?"

"'kay," I said softly.

"Alright," he beamed, handing me my shoes. "Let's go have a drink."

Harry and I sat at the bar outside of the main house. We had a great time chatting with each other, reminiscing, talking to some of Harry's friends. About an hour into it, however, although the alcohol was keeping my blood warm, the chill of the breeze was starting to get to me, so Harry left to retrieve my sweater. When he returned, he surprised me by having one of his own, nearly the same color as mine. I giggled when I saw him, but I also felt touched. I wasn't exactly sure if he did it on purpose so I wouldn't feel out of place, or if he was chilly too and didn't mind that we matched. Either way, I found it adorable, and I couldn't help but notice the gentle way he held my sweater open so I could slip my arms through before he rubbed my shoulders with his hands.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"Any time," he leaned into my ear and whispered back.

The stool next to me ended up occupied while he was away, but being the generous guy he was, Harry didn't ask for it back and in fact insisted that the other woman sit there. So instead, he just stood next to me.

Something was apparent. I was completely confused. I had started to...feel things. More than friendship feelings. I was dizzy and not just because of the beer. I was seeing Harry in a different light, more than just the silly crush I'd had before. And I couldn't help but think he might feel the same. The problem was, I wasn't a hundred percent certain, and I didn't want to look like a fool if I just came out and asked. So I decided to take a different approach.

"So...confession time," I swallowed, setting my empty beer glass on the counter and swinging my legs underneath the bar to face him.

"Confession?" he teased with a smirk, his eyebrow raised in question.

"Yep," I nodded a little too eagerly.

"Alright," he grinned wider, leaning against the bar.

I had to contain my composure as he looked absolutely gorgeous, his hair windswept, his lips full and inviting, and I knew that one more sip of alcohol might possibly have caused me to leap from my barstool and give him more than the confession I had in mind.

"Remember when we met?" I asked.

"I do," Harry nodded.

"You had the long hair then," I commented, making hand gestures next to my face to imply long, cascading curls.

Harry chuckled, his shoulders shaking as I caught a glimpse of his cross necklace dancing in the middle of his chest. "Yeah."

"I used to have such a major crush on you," I blurted.

With a tilt of his head, Harry looked at me. I considered for a second that I'd made a horrible mistake by telling him. Surely he was confused that I'd made such a confession. We were friends in his eyes and always had been, nothing more. He was probably trying his best to think of a nice way to let me down, to tell me he'd never had similar feelings about me, or worse, that I shouldn't have such feelings for him, like a young schoolgirl with a crush on her older brother's friend. I suddenly wanted to take back my words, to pretend I hadn't said them, but Harry surprised me with his next question.

"Used to?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," I laughed nervously.

"Oh." Harry shifted on his feet and began to finger the napkin underneath his glass. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I made a sound and I shrugged. "You were...well, you were hot, and I couldn't believe you actually wanted to talk to me. But then we became close friends so..."

My words trailed off, but I figured Harry knew what I meant. Inspecting the contents of his glass, he swirled it around before lifting it to his lips and setting it back down. I watched him as my stomach flipped and he ran his free hand through his hair.

"I'm really glad we became so close," he said.

"Me too," I smiled.

"I like being your friend, Gabs," Harry added, turning to face me again, his grin mimicking mine for a second before it faltered and he shook his head. "I reckon I have a confession to make, too."

"You do?" I raised a brow, shifting on my stool.

"I've had a massive crush on you as well," he stated.

I gasped, nearly choking. "You did?"

His eyes blinking slowly, Harry stepped closer to me. Or at least, it seemed like he did, even though there was little space between us at it was.

"Did...still do," he confessed, his voice so low it was barely audible.

"What?"

My one word came out like my last breath, and I quickly felt like I needed oxygen. Harry was looking at me intently, standing so close, he was practically between my legs. The noise and chatter surrounding us was blatant, but time seemed to freeze as we stared at each other, Harry's confession whirling around us like clouds of smoke.

"I wasn't quite sure how to tell you," he finally said.

My eyes still wide, I glared at him incredulously. "For...how long?"

Harry shrugged just as the bartender returned with our drink refills. Suddenly realizing how thirsty I was, I eagerly picked up my glass and took a long chug of beer. I didn't miss the tiny smirk on Harry's face before he lifted his own glass and I wiped my apparent beer foam mustache from my lips with the back of my hand.

"Since...since we met?" I asked, urging Harry to continue as I set the glass back down.

"Oh, I dunno, Gabs," he shrugged again. "I mean, I fancied you then, definitely. But not in the way..."

"In the way...what?"

"In the...feelings kind of way," said Harry.

"There's a difference?" I asked, only half teasing.

"Well, of course," he grinned, his dimples reappearing on his cheeks. "I hadn't gotten to know you yet."

"Oh."

"Probably in the same way you fancied me," he added.

"Oh."

"Anyway, I..." he looked down, scratching his nose. "I kinda thought you knew. At least, at one time."

"When?" I asked, flabbergasted. Here I had been nervous about confessing my feelings for him, and I'd never even considered he'd had feelings for me all along, not just recently.

"Last year. Your birthday. And then New Year's."

My jaw dropped as I easily recalled both of those occasions, but had no memory of him giving me any idea he'd liked me as more than a friend. Sure, he'd given me an expensive gift, and we'd gotten pretty wasted on New Year's Eve and I'd let him crash at my place...

"I had no idea!" I exclaimed.

"Well..." Harry smirked, lifting his glass again. "I reckon I'm not very good at giving hints then. But it's...out in the open now."

"Harry..." I mouthed.

With another smile, he threw back the rest of his cocktail and set the empty glass on the bar.

"Kinda wish now I'd told you sooner," he said. "Seeing as you used to have a thing for me, too."

"Not used to," I admitted.

"Wha'?"

"I still do, too," I said. "Still have a thing for you, I mean. Or a crush, or whatever. No, not a crush, that seems so juvenile. Oh my God, Harry, I'm so stupid!"

Harry chuckled, his eyes squinting the way I liked that made him look so handsome and childlike at the same time.

"Slow down, love," he offered, placing his hand on my arm.

"I'm so dumb, Harry," I groaned. I could feel the effects from the alcohol now, but I knew my feelings were honest and not beer induced. "I've been making excuses. I was wondering why you were doing certain things, like calling me in the middle of the night or standing close to me. Playing me your song and inviting me to this party. I worried I was overthinking it all. Like there was no way you liked me in that way. We're just good friends. But now..."

"Now?" His eyes studied my face, waiting for my response as both of his hands took mine, bringing them to his chest.

"Now I know you do."

"Yes I do, Gabriella."

I wanted to grab him and kiss him right then and there, and I would have if the woman behind him hadn't bumped into him and reminded me where we were.

"C'mere," I urged, rising from my stool and taking his hand.

I pulled him to the steps that led to the beach and we walked until I found a dark enough spot where I knew we were out of earshot. Then I turned around and wrapped my arms around him. Without a word, Harry leaned down and kissed me softly, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter and my insides light up like dynamite. Then he deepened the kiss, our tongues dancing in rhythm with my heartbeat.

"Baby..." Harry groaned after our long kiss, his forehead pressed against mine.

"I...I heard you call me that earlier," I said as I traced his mouth with my fingertip. "I thought I was lying to myself."

"Not a lie, baby," he assured me. "I guess some of my hints did get through."

I smiled up at him and licked my lips.

"Kiss me again, Harry," I begged, "so I know I'm not dreaming."

"You're certainly not," Harry said low before pressing his lips to mine again.

We kissed like that on the beach for a long time, the noise of the party worlds away, the crash of the waves in the distance.

"Harry..." I whispered when we came up for air. "I know we're at a party and everything...but...I'd really like to be alone with you right now."

"I think that can be arranged," he agreed.

Not bothering to say goodnight to his friends at the main house, he took my hand and led me to the smaller house on the left, the one in which we were staying. With a quick wave to a handful of people on the porch, we made our way through the back doors and up the stairs. Stopping in the hallway, Harry grinned at me.

"Yours or mine?" he asked cheekily.

"Shut up and get in there," I quipped, pushing him towards our room.

When he opened the door, I eyed the two beds.

"Seems like such a waste," I commented as I followed him to the bed he chose, kicking off my shoes.

"Could have been worse," said Harry as he sat on the bed. "I could have asked for separate rooms."

"Oh, so you were expecting to get some tonight?" I teased as I sensually unbuttoned my cardigan and dropped it.

"No baby," he replied, pulling me to stand between his knees, his green eyes sincere. "Just hoping."

With a gentle smile, I leaned forward and took his face in my hands. I looked at him for a few moments, studying his gorgeous face before kissing his soft, warm lips. It was as though a fire had ignited within me, and I couldn't get enough. I felt his hands on my hips then, trying to pull up the sides of my dress. I heard a pout sound from his throat as I separated our mouths, but his face lit up when he realized what I was doing. Grabbing the hem of my dress, I pulled it up and over my head, letting it fall to the floor. Another sound vibrated from Harry's chest before he slid his hands up my sides and rose from the bed.

In one swift motion, he pulled both his sweater and shirt over his head, not bothering to separate the two. I had seen him shirtless before, but somehow this time was different. I wanted to trace every tattoo, kiss the little patch of hair on his chest and lick a long trail down his belly. My mouth began to water knowing I had the opportunity. I watched him unbutton his pants next, causing my heart to beat faster. I must have been biting my lip in anticipation because Harry chuckled low then, lifting his finger to pry my lip from my teeth.

"You're so sexy," he declared.

"Me?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his eyebrows raised in confirmation. "I've wanted to suck on that bottom lip for a long time."

"God, you're gonna drive me crazy, aren't you?"

Harry laughed harder. "That's the plan."

Unable to control myself, I crashed into his lips again, tangling my fingers in his hair. He moaned against my mouth while his hands found the clasp of my bra, letting the straps fall down my shoulders. I released my grip on his hair so that the bra could drop to the floor and within seconds, my naked breasts were covered by his hands.

This time it was my turn to moan. One thing about Harry that I was perfectly aware of, other than his talent and cheekiness, was that he had amazing hands. When we'd first gotten to know each other, I would sometimes stare at them. And after I started thinking of him in a new way recently, it was not uncommon for me to fantasize about them. Feeling them touch my tender, bare skin was like nothing I'd ever dreamed. I could already feel the wetness between my thighs, and I felt light-headed.

"Harry..." I heard the sound come from my lips before I opened my eyes to see his staring back at me.

"Let's go to the bed, love," he announced.

In my...somewhat mediocre...experience, I was never sure of the protocol for turning down the bed for sex. I was pleasantly surprised, however, when I saw Harry grab the quilt and pull it down to the foot of the bed.

"C'mere, baby," he beckoned as he laid down.

A tiny spark of nerves shivered down my spine as I slowly crawled onto the bed beside him. He reached for me, pulling me against his body and kissing me passionately.

"I don't want this to be awkward," he whispered. "So you let me know if it doesn't feel right and you wanna stop."

"No," I shook my head. "No, it's not awkward at all. I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

"Let me help you relax then," he said. "Tell me how I can help."

His hand slid down my hip as I stared into his eyes. His fingers slipped underneath the lace side of my panties and I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath.

"How's that feel?" I heard him ask, his calloused fingertips lightly stroking the skin across my hip.

"Very nice," I breathed.

His hand moved slightly underneath the lace and I suddenly felt his fingers approach the area I needed him most. Another breath hitched in my throat as he began to touch me. With each moan of response I gave him, he continued, moving in circles with his fingertip.

"How's that, baby?"

"Mmmnnn...yes..." was all I could manage to say before he chuckled again. Shifting onto my back, I opened my legs wider so he had better access. Harry, however, had other ideas. Pulling his hand from my panties, he crawled up on his knees, his face inches from mine.

"I wanna taste you, Gabriella," he declared.

I threw my head back and whispered to the headboard as Harry pulled down my lace underwear. "Fuck, yes."

While my insides were still shaking, I no longer felt nervous. I already knew what his hands could do in just a few minutes. Now I was eager to feel his mouth on me.

Harry was one to take his time, never in a rush for anything, and this was no exception. He left soft kisses on my stomach and pubic bone, then lifting my thighs, he left kisses there as well. I was nearly ready to explode by the time I finally felt his tongue on me, and even then, he took his time.

Harry seemed to catch my clues as well, knowing when to speed up or slow down, learning my body and how much I could take. As I could feel myself reaching my climax, he lifted my hips with his hands, and as I came, he slowed gently before lowering me back down and kissing my thighs once again. My body trembled slightly as he laid his head on my thigh and hummed, waiting patiently for me to come down.

"God, you're beautiful," I heard him murmur as he crawled up my body again, his hands on my breasts.

I tasted myself on his tongue as he kissed me before he shimmied down and took my nipples into his mouth. I moaned again at the sensation, unable to control my urge to feel him inside me.

"Still nervous?" he asked me with a smirk.

I laughed out loud. "Not at all."

"Good," he chuckled. "'Cause I wanna fuck you so bad."

I laughed again, throwing my arm over my eyes.

"Too much?" I heard him ask as I felt the bed shift.

"No," I replied, lowering my arm as I saw him remove his underwear and reach in his bag for a condom. "I have a feeling there's no such thing as too much with you."

He laughed then, returning to the bed. "I guess we'll find out."

I bit my lip at both his cheeky remark and the anticipation. Lifting my knees, I watched him scoot between them. The initial pressure and sting was immediately replaced with immense pleasure as he filled me and began to thrust. Perhaps the aftershock of his oral treatment hadn't completely worn off, because it didn't take long before I was moaning and gasping underneath him. And I certainly was not alone because Harry's moans soon began to mimic mine, and he whined my name.

"Holy shit, you feel so good," I cried.

"Yeah, baby, fuck," he growled. "I'm close already."

I'd always thought the concept of coming together ridiculous, if not impossible. But with Harry, I wanted it. I even begged for it.

"Come with me, Harry," I called out, my legs wrapped around his waist and my hands holding onto his back for dear life.

"Fuck, yes."

And with one more thrust, it happened.

Fireworks, bottle rockets, shooting stars...all the silly cliches I'd read in books...they weren't fiction. Mind-blowing sex is real.

We laid in bed staring at the ceiling while our breaths evened out, then took turns in the bathroom. When I returned, I was surprised to see Harry with the sheet and quilt pulled up to his butterfly tattoo, two votive candles lit on the nightstand.

"Oh nice," I commented. "Where'd the candles come from?"

"They were here," he answered, his voice lower than usual. "In the table. It had been my plan to light them when...I mean if...we came up here. But I forgot."

"God Harry..." I mused as I crawled into bed beside him.

"What?"

"You just..."

With a wide grin, he chuckled, his adorable dimples dipping in his cheeks as he pulled me to him once again. "What, baby?"

"We're not friends anymore," I remarked.

"We're not?"

"No. Friends don't...do this," I said, brushing my fingers through his curls. "And definitely not what we just did."

"We're still friends, Gabs," Harry replied. "Just...a different kind."

"A better kind...I hope."

"Definitely."

"Hmm," I nodded. "Just do me a favor and don't break my heart."

"That's not part of the plan," he shook his head.

"Good. 'Cause I already kinda love you."

Lifting himself up on his elbow, Harry raised a brow. "Just kinda?"

"Well...you know...because we were already so close..."

With a glorious smile, Harry lowered his head to kiss my nose, then my lips.

"I love you too, baby," he said.

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