#this is all about vibes and atmosphere. because i only had a vague idea of what i wanted to do

[cuntylestat]

IN YOUR EYES LOUIS & LESTAT

(youtube)

[eddiemunsonw]

Leaning Away

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie has been avoiding you and you're starting to feel like he doesn't like you, in general, as a person. You're determined to find out why. CW/Disclaimer: A bit of angst, but this drabble is so short you'll be hit with good feels almost right away. Other than that: fluff, Eddie is awkward and cute. Author's note: Hope you like and if you do, please show some love! Likes, reblogs and comments are massively appreciated, it's what keeps me going. :) Words: 2445

You had been friends with the gang for a while now. While you weren’t sure exactly when it happened, you started hanging out more frequently when Steve, Robin and you started working at the same place after briefly being co-workers at Family Video. It was obvious that the group liked you around and you found that it became almost a weekly occurrence lately. At least, almost everyone. For whatever reason, you didn’t get that vibe from Eddie all that much.

He engaged in conversations with you, sure, preferably when drunk or high, but even during those times it was as if he would suddenly remember who he was talking to and he’d quickly cut the conversation in favor of going somewhere else or striking up a conversation with the nearest person aside from you. Not only that, but due to Jonathan being Jonathan, it wasn’t a rare occurrence that there was a camera on hand for someone to take pictures throughout the evening. Even Steve had taken up an interest in photography lately, liking the idea of having some tangible memories of good times. So therefore, pictures were being taken. At first you assumed that Eddie didn’t like his picture taken, since he always moved away once a camera came into view. But the more pictures you saw, the more you realized that apparently he only seemed to have a problem being photographed next to you.

There were a bunch of pictures with other people where he clearly didn’t have a care in the world for it, sometimes even posing silly for them. It wasn’t until this one night where you were all hanging out together and Jonathan gave everyone a copy of the group photo that had been taken sometime ago, that you reached your limit. 

It was the one photo where Eddie had stood next to you because it had simply been the better spot for him to stand according to the person who took the photo. You remembered vaguely how much closer you stood to Robin than Eddie did to you, but it became all the more obvious when you had the actual photo in your hands. His whole upper body was leaning away from you in a way that was simply too obvious. He never did that with anyone else.

Although this situation had been bothering you for a while now, you had avoided bringing it up with anyone from the group since you were essentially the odd one out and weren’t feeling like creating an awkward atmosphere. However, the longer you gazed at this photo, the more you felt like you didn’t belong anyway. Not if Eddie had a say in it.

So there you were, making your way over to Eddie who was already stuffing his copy in his back pocket. As soon as he noticed you, his eyes darted away and he looked downright uncomfortable. Great. Great start.

“Sup, Y/N,” he greeted you awkwardly while pushing his thumb through a belt loop. His other hand fiddled with an empty beer can that he was trying to balance on the bushes next to him.

“Hi, Eddie,” you started, glancing around to see if anyone was in hearing distance. Regret was already starting to seep in. “Can I ask you something?”

Everything about his expression told you that he’d rather be anywhere else than in front of you right now, especially with the way he avoided looking at you.

“Uhh, sure.”

He frowned slightly and decided it was the perfect time to light a cigarette. As you tried to build up the courage, Eddie gathered his lighter and busied himself trying to get it to work. You wondered if anyone else could see the tension oozing out of you the way you felt it.

“Did I ever do or say something to make you dislike me?”

You watched as his frown deepened, still flicking his thumb over the striker in slight frustration and you could tell the moment he registered your words, as his eyes immediately flick towards you.

“Huh?”

A soft sigh escapes your lips, cheeks flushing from embarrassment for making a big deal out of this. He probably couldn’t care less whether you were around or not. He was probably just indifferent to it all. Still… you just wanted to know.

“I mean that, uhm, you kind of avoid me whenever you can? And… I don’t know, this?” You showed him the photo, your finger easily fitting between the gap between you two, whereas everyone else is very much huddled close together. You were almost certain you heard him swear under his breath and you immediately feared that you had annoyed him even more. Wasn’t it a fair question to ask, though?

“I don’t dislike you, Y/N,” Eddie mumbled, his cheeks tainting a little pink. “That’s the whole problem.” Finally, he managed to get his lighter to work. He took a drag of his cigarette while continuously fumbling with the lighter so much to the point of it dropping onto the floor. He huffed around his cigarette, smoke leaving through the small gaps near the corners of his mouth. Wordlessly, you picked it up for him and your fingers briefly brushed each other before he snatched the lighter away from you so he could stuff it back into his pocket.

“What do you mean?” you decided to ask when you realized he wasn’t going to elaborate. He was once again avoiding your gaze and it became harder for you to keep your patience.

“Means I— like you. And I kind of don’t want… things to get in the way of, y’know, this,” he mumbled as he gestured around. “The group. Everything.”

You crossed your arms, vaguely registering that he just confessed something to you but you were too annoyed to let it linger in your brain for too long. Apparently, you had been feeling bad for weeks, months even, because Eddie Munson had decided it was better to avoid you.

“Well that’s a pretty shit reason to treat someone like garbage.”

Eddie, who had been avoiding your gaze up until now, looked up with big eyes, concern in them wide and obvious.

“G-Garbage? I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. In fact—” You held up a finger and walked back into the house wordlessly, leaving him standing there. Argyle gave you a nod as you passed him while he was getting him and Jonathan another beer. You fished out some tape and scissors from a drawer, decided that you didn’t need the latter as you ripped yourself and eddie off the picture, only to tape it back together horribly so that you disappeared and Eddie stood next to Robin instead. Without a gap. Eddie met you halfway on your way back to him, blocking the doorway as he spread his hands across the doorpost.

“Y/N—”

“Here. All fixed.” You pushed the photo into his hands, gave him no time to respond and walked away. To your surprise, you ran into Steve near the front door as he just came downstairs.

“Oh, leaving so soon?” he asked you curiously, “weren’t you gonna get a ride with someone?”

You shook your head and gave him a weak smile.

“No, change of plans. Gonna get picked up in a moment, so… I’m heading out. See you soon?” It wasn’t meant to be a question, but suddenly you weren’t too sure if you were going to see him or anyone for that matter anytime soon.

“Oh, alright. Yeah, soon!” He gave you a quick shoulder squeeze and one of his warm smiles and you knew that if he hadn’t drank that much, he probably would have waited to see if you actually had a ride. Lucky for you, that meant you could grab your jacket and slip out quietly.

Eddie was busy chewing his bottom lip away from stress as he tried to come up with something to say to you, to make it up. It had never been his intention to hurt you at all, he was just… protecting himself. Which was apparently the stupidest idea because now he hurt you of all people. He looked up, already stumbling over his words as he heard footsteps approach him and he was eager to grasp onto his second chance when he realized it was Steve instead.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“She went home,” Steve shrugged, grabbing a beer and waiting for Eddie to let him pass.

“Wasn’t she supposed to get a ride with Jon and Nance?”

Steve shrugged again.

“She said she was being picked up in a moment.”

Right. As if. Despite his disbelief, he nodded and gave Steve a pat on the shoulder.

“Alright, thanks dude.”

Without announcing his departure, he left through the front door and took a left. The plan had been to stay over at Steve’s place, so he had consumed beers with that in mind and didn’t feel like driving would be a smart idea right now. But man he hated walking. Or jogging, which he was actually doing. He knew the quickest road to your home, he wasn’t stupid. He paid attention. Not just for reasons. He totally hadn’t sat in his van at the corner of your street, wondering if he should just spontaneously ring the doorbell since he couldn’t get a word out whenever he tried to phone your house. Ever since you had brought up “this creepy anonymous caller who keeps hanging up after some noisy breathing” he hadn’t dared to try again. Needless to say, he never gathered the guts to go over and actually act out his plan.

This however, was different. And with shortness of breath, his band tee sticking to his torso already due to the humidity this summer, he finally caught up to you.

“Y/N!”

You turned around at the sound of your name and your eyes widened when you spotted Eddie, hunched over, hands resting on his knees as he huffed short breaths. Mind you, you had only just rounded the corner of the street Steve lived on. Which wasn’t that long.

“Jesus… H— Christ, I hate running,” he groaned, wiping the sweat off his forehead and messing up his bangs in the process. A little annoyed, he lifted his t-shirt to ruffle through his hair a bit to fix it, exposing his stomach in the process. Not the point, you forced yourself to think as your eyes dragged over his happy trail.

“Then why’d you run?” you asked dryly, hands on your hips because your brisk walk had gotten you a little out of breath as well, with all the emotions running through you on top of it.

“Because I couldn’t let you leave like that. Also— Getting a ride? My ass. I knew that was bullshit when Steve said it.”

“Must be because I’m so unlikable, right? Who in their right mind would offer me a ride,” you mumbled as you rolled your eyes.

“Me! Did you not hear what I said before?” Eddie asked slightly exasperated. “Where does this fucking sweat keep coming from Jesus Christ—”

“Yeah, you like me so much that you go out of your way to make me feel unwelcome and act like I’m some sort of repellant you want to stay away from. Nice.” Eddie sighed softly and took a few steps towards you, making him close enough for you to have to look up to meet his eyes. Your heartbeat was deafening, and it had nothing to do with being a little out of breath.

“I never, ever meant to make you feel unwelcome, Y/N. I get why you feel that way, I do, and I’m sorry. I don’t want this,” he mumbled sincerely, grabbing the ripped up picture you taped together. You glanced down at his hand holding it and followed it all the way down as he let it drop onto the pavement.

“You shouldn’t litter,” you mumbled weakly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll— Fine.” He crouched down, picked it up and stuffed it back into his pocket. “I still don’t want it though,” he said pointedly. His eyes met yours briefly and it was easy to drown in those stupidly beautiful eyes of his. You followed his gaze as it wandered down to his hands, empty now. 

“I want…”

His hands hesitantly took hold of yours, slightly calloused thumbs rubbing the back of your hands gently.

“This.”

You gave his hands a soft squeeze and dared to look up at him only to find his gaze fixated on your hands, his cheeks giving away a subtle flush in the dim light around you.

“Y’know what the problem is, Y/N,” he added softly, thumbs never breaking their circling pattern as he spoke, “when we talk, or when you’re close to me, all I wanna do is kiss you. And I don’t think you’d be into that, not like that, anyway. ‘Cause you’re like… fuckin’ perfect, y’know? And then there’s me, acting like I just fished my brain out of my ass and am still trying to figure out how it works. I’m an idiot.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips without your control and he smiled softly.

“You are an idiot, Eddie,” you agreed and realized you needed to speed up your words when you saw the slightest hint of acceptance in his eyes, as if your hurtful statement held any truth to it in the way he expected it to be. “For thinking I wouldn’t want to kiss you like that.”

“I know I— What? Don’t fuck with me now Y/N or I swear to fuckin’ whatever,” he pressed, eyes large and actually, kind of hopeful.

“Or what, you’ll be a dickhead and avoid me?”

“Y/N, come on, I—”

Sometimes, actions spoke louder than words, right? In this case, you were certain it would speed up the process of a mutual understanding between the two of you. In one move you released your hands from his grip and wrapped them around his neck instead, pulling him downwards until your lips met in a sweet kiss. Eddie didn’t kiss you back right away— but once he realized what was happening he melted against you and kissed you back as eagerly as any guy would kiss a girl during spin the bottle. 

Except this wasn’t spin the bottle. This wasn’t based on chance and both parties wanted to kiss each other just as badly, without any coincidental circumstances. And so what if Steve and the others were a little confused with your sudden return? There was always the next day.

Tonight was about you and Eddie.

[transparencyboo]

I recently played through Mystic Ark (1995) each night before bed during the last week or so. I initially saw a promotion for the game next to Terranigma (a longtime favorite) in a Famitsu magazine earlier this year, and got mesmerized by its Labyrinth-esque cover artwork in particular. I immediately knew I had to play whatever this was.

So I took the slowburn approach by first going through The 7th Saga and Brain Lord, two previous games by developers Produce. While not remotely essential for this venture, they still gave me some neat context and groundwork for the game's roots. I think they ultimately helped me appreciate this game all the more.

In Mystic Ark you wake up alone on a desolate eerie island and need to travel to different worlds in search of the titular arks to grow stronger and regain your freedom. These worlds act as self-contained stories with distinct vibes, genres and presentation. It's a delightfully novel idea for a game to take an anthology approach, and I wish more games would attempt this because it's highly effective in keeping up intrigue and wonder. Every time you depart for the next world is a big mystery and you usually need a moment to piece together what each new tale is gonna be about.

For example, the first world is a light hearted tale about war and conflict told through two rivalling factions of pirate cats. The game sees you meandering in back-and-forth fetch quests to support both sides' advances towards the same goal, it has a lot of cheeky humor about this and presents itself in a very cute and endearing fashion.

Another story has you enter a mysteriously abandoned world devoid of even monsters, only populated by a few orphaned children who play in a ghost town by day and then go home to a mansion run by a suspicious nun. As you go along with their antics and babysit them out of dangerous situations, the situation only keeps getting stranger.

One world in particular locks you inside a horror story without your party members, as you work your way through a labyrinthine haunted house by solving puzzles interspersed by ominous scribbles by a paranoid previous resident. The atmosphere hangs heavy and the suspension has you on needles, it's a lovely showcase of Mystic Ark's core concept that it effectively pulls these twists and turns without ever feeling jarring.

One aspect I enjoyed in particular was the semi-point and click flavour in your interactions with the world. Many points will pull up an extra menu with a nice picture of what you're looking at and various options of how to fiddle and prod at it. Supposedly the 1999 Playstation sequel Mystic Ark: Maboroshi Gekijo leaned even further into this, and I'm not at all surprised. Would love to play it whenever someone decides to translate it or I get good enough at Japanese. Whichever one comes first.

Mystic Ark is a gorgeous and rich experience that continuously rewards the player for sticking with it. Even though the individual tales all have satisfying conclusion, the game still maintains a lot of mystery by keeping the finer points untold. You rarely get the full picture and that only helps to make you keep wondering. The ending to the game itself is as vague as it begins, and allows for many different interpretations. My take is that the game, through its anthology structure, tells us about the many little worlds we can find all around us, the stories that reside in anything. The worlds are entered by interacting with regular objects like a ship model, a painting or a storybook, and recurringly we must return to the island to gather figurines of lost actors in the stories to progress. I think Mystic Ark emphasises the player's power as a sort of story teller, fiddling with the plots in interesting ways, to build a genuine interest. At the end we are seemingly encouraged to take this depiction of narratives and inspiration to go out into our own world and find our own stories to tell.

It's a mesmerizing all-timer and for sure a new favorite of mine. /Kiki

(Extra note: The game was only released in Japan, so I played a fan translation. There are two of them and after some comparison I went with the one by Dynamic Design because it felt a bit more vibrant and inspired in its word choices. Your preference may differ though and they both seem to be good.)

[fruitgummies01]

I agree about tae joining and maybe not fully understanding what he was getting into. I feel like a lot of jikookers were really hard on him, but his comment at the omikase (which was literally the night of their first day in jeju) he said "I felt that" about the show being for just the two of them and thanked them for letting him join. Yes, he still invited himself, but I think he realized the atmosphere after getting there. I don't know if it was the general arrangement (the two beds, the two coordinating pairs of swimming trunks, etc) or some of jungkook's less than thrilled comments earlier in the day (there could have also been private conversations between the three of them because of course we don't see everything), but it felt like by the end of the day he felt that it was a show meant for the two of them, which in his defense is different that all the other bts content we get (AYS isn't like ITS or BV for example).

Kind of tangential to this talking point, I'm curious who in the group knew what about the show. Like so far we've seen tae, yoongi, and namjoon get called while the show was filming. We know yoongi had some vague explanation of "I'm going to the US to drink with jungkook" from jimin. Tae seemed pretty in the dark about it: not understanding the MMA/elbowing comments, just seeing about them going to jeju on the shared group calendar bts have, not understanding the vibe (like asking why RM wasn't there). The only thing we have from namjoon is before enlistment in the wlive when he jokes about MMA fighting in bed. I know the show was very make-it-up-as-we-go so maybe they felt it was hard to explain since plans weren't really set, but I just find the inner workings of bts interesting, like who shares with who and about what topics (and this is completely aside from shipping discourse or anything specific about jikook or tk).

Completely agree with everything you said!! Even if you look at JK and Tae's conversation over the phone in episode 1, it seemed like Tae had no idea what they were doing or where they were (lowkey makes me wonder if that NYC trip was even on their group calendar, which brings about even more questions I won't get into lol). But given ITS and BV, it would be easy to assume that Are You Sure would be similar to the things they filmed before, so I tend to cut Tae some slack when it comes to inviting himself on their trip. I'm sure he got the message after repeatedly be referred to as guest multiple times lol.

Much like you though, "I just find the inner workings of bts interesting, like who shares with who and about what topics", I often have the same thoughts. It's normal that the members won't know everything that is happening in each others their lives, since they were working on their solo projects and insanely busy, but (shipping aside) it feels pointed that Jimin and Jungkook made it a priority to carve out time to spend time together. I also think it says a lot that Jungkook brings up Jin by name repeatedly at different points in the show so far. RM by his own admission, said that he had to distance himself from everyone, which I completely understand. I became a fan after JHope and Jin had already enlisted so, aside from older content that I've watched, I'm so interested in discovering more about their dynamic and inner workings in real time. Especially after massively successful solo careers.

[grizzlyofthesea]

FNAF Headcanons for the Rise Turtles (and April, of course) + My Own FNAF Opinions

Raph

Scariest game: FNAF 2, because of the Puppet

Scariest animatronic: The Puppet, because it's a ten-foot-tall puppet

Balloon Boy kind of freaks him out, too

Struggling with Night 3 because of Withered Bonnie and Withered Chica

Tends to forget about the other animatronics because he gets so focused on the music box

Thinks Toy Freddy is really cute and wants to hug him

An Easter egg magnet; has seen RWQFSFASXC, JJ, the endoskeleton in the Prize Corner, the eyeless Toy Bonnie screen, the eyeless Withered Freddy screen, and the Paper Pal in the office

Thinks Toy Chica looks like Pikachu

Doesn't even know there's lore; all he sees is a spooky game with a terrifying puppet man

Leo

Scariest game: FFPS, because of the tiny office and the tense salvage sequences

Scariest animatronic: Music Man, because look at his face

Buys stuff at discounts, then wonders why he's only had to salvage Molten Freddy

Has never accepted a sponsorship offer for the sake of his pride and integrity; still has no idea that this affects gameplay

Failing the ball pit minigame cracks him up every time

Once got Music Man from the mega ball pit minigame; fell out of his chair because he was startled that badly

Thinks all the Scrap animatronics look dumb, but especially Scraptrap

240 Bits per Mile is his jam

Only has a vague idea of what's happening with the lore; zones out whenever Donnie or April try to explain it more

Donnie

Scariest game: FNAF, because of the atmosphere and the especially uncanny animatronics

Scariest animatronic: Chica, because of her tendency to open her mouth super-wide and stare right at you

Always plays with the sound off so the jumpscares don't destroy his eardrums

Roasts Bonnie whenever he shows up. Just Bonnie, though.

Sings and dances along to Freddy's song whenever the power goes out, usually with bitter/sarcastic lyrics

Has yet to beat 4/20 mode, but they've been practicing. Obsessively.

Has a whole conspiracy corkboard dedicated to figuring out the lore

Considering starting a collection of FNAF Mystery Minis; he's particularly interested in Withered Bonnie

Loves watching FNAF let's plays

Mikey

Scariest game: Sister Location, because of the "abandoned warehouse" vibe

Scariest animatronic: Funtime Foxy, because of that freaking twitching

Hates the sections where you have to walk/crawl through the dark

One death away from raging at Night 4

Was kind of creeped out by Baby even from the beginning

Absolutely lost it at "Casual Bongos"

Loves "The Immortal and the Restless"

Has seen the "Minireena in the popcorn" Easter egg; it scared the crap out of him

Super confused about the overarching lore, but knows that stuff is haunted

Loves the Funtime Freddy plushie for all the wrong reasons (look it up if you haven't seen it already); wants one of his own

April

Scariest game: Help Wanted, because VR

Scariest animatronic: Springtrap, because he's a zombified child murderer

Favorite levels are Parts & Service (Freddy) and Vent Repair (Ennard)

Hates the Plushbabies with a burning passion

On a mission to get all the collectibles; has roughly half of them so far

Won Funtime Freddy's level the same way Markiplier did

Has intentionally triggered Foxy by stepping out of the FNAF 1 office, just to see if she could close the door on him in time

Roasts the animatronics whenever she counters/avoids them

Legitimately creeped out by Glitchtrap

Obsessed with the lore; keeps up with Game Theory's videos on it and regularly posts about it on discussion threads

As for me?

Scariest game: FNAF 4, because you have to stick your head out into pitch-black hallways and listen for stuff

Scariest animatronic: Nightmarionne, because WHY DOES IT NEED TEETH???

I downloaded the original mobile port of FNAF 4 onto my iPad when I was 13, and I don't think I've played past Night 2.

On the other hand, I have beaten Night 6 of the original mobile FNAF and every single Custom Night challenge on mobile FNAF 2.

I like Security Breach because of Glamrock Freddy, the memes, and the fact that I can play it without having to mute my TV out of sheer terror at all the noises.

I also like FNAF World. It's just goofy and fun.

I personally think the books and Sister Location are what kicked the lore off the deep end, but it's so ridiculous at this point, I'm just here for the ride.

Withered Freddy has my favorite design in the series.

I wish Freddy in general was more central to a franchise called Five Nights at Freddy's.

[muse-write]

☔️

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

There are so many fic concepts in my notes, it’s almost overwhelming. I may be able to find ways of incorporating elements of them into larger stories somehow, hopefully, but I’ll list out a few ideas here.

First: back when I was really into the Scarlet Pimpernel and Georgette Heyer, I came up with the seemingly brilliant idea of: Feanorian family drama but as a Georgian-era comedy of manners. I wrote a few scenes for fun but it wasn’t something I was seriously working on and I can’t see myself actually writing multiple chapters of it, so I’ll post some bullet points from the brainstorming:

Sons of an English Duke, Feanor and Fingolfin get into a duel at a party, enmity sparked by the machinations of Morgoth; afterward, Feanor and his sons retreat to France for years afterward.

Elrond and Elros were actually going to be refugees of the French Revolution—I couldn’t quite figure out how to include the oath or kinslayings

Morgoth haunts the narrative, inticing Maedhros into returning to England and getting involved in yet another duel, in which he’s disfigured. His estranged cousin Fingon takes him in and looks after him as he heals.

It was fun, if not very well thought through!

Another really fun AU that I kind of want to return to one day is my Gothic Romance/Rebecca-inspired Nerdanel and Feanor retelling. Set in the early 1900s, Nerdanel marries the haunted genius inventor Feanor, but upon moving to his lonely mansion, learns that his house really is haunted by the ghosts of his mother and Morgoth, whose role (a demon? A ghost? A former enemy?) was never quite decided. Nerdanel teams up with Feanor’s brothers, who work as paranormal investigators, to find a way of saving her husband as he descends further into hubris and insanity.

Nerdanel’s story would be paralleled with Indis’, who decades earlier came to live in the same house with her widowed husband, Finwe—whose late wife she could swear she hears laughing in the hallways and in empty rooms—and his glowering, brilliant child, who hates the very sight of his new stepmother.

I had only vague plans for this one; really all of my ideas were more about atmosphere and the vibes and inspos (Rebecca, Crimson Peak, etc.). It’s still something I can see potential in if I could ever figure out the themes.

Thank you for asking! This was so much fun!

[kinetic-elaboration]

November 21: Hauntings Series

Since I didn’t do my Halloween ficlets (yet again lol) and I don’t have any plans to do that particular series in that particular way, I thought I’d make a post explaining roughly what I would have done if I were a faster writer.

The theme was ‘Hauntings’ and I was going to write five ficlets, each about a different type of haunting or facet of haunting.

The first, a traditional ghost story, was the one I actually wrote and posted: a modern AU about Clarke meeting Dante’s ghost just hours after his death. This one was inspired by a real ghost story I heard from a co-worker, though only in a very indirect way. She used to work in a nursing home and described to me hearing the distinctive cough of a gentleman who had just passed away. That was hard to make into a narrative so I expanded on it and ended up with this fic, but I actually like it a lot, and I think it did what it was meant to do.

The second story was to be about a haunted house. I keep a Halloween document with a list of potential ficlet ideas and I had one written down that was literally just “Briller + things that go bump in the night,” so I thought I could do something with that. I was going to play off of the ‘live by a lake and raise chickens and grow old’ conversation from canon, take that ‘young couple with a new old house’ angle and just do something short and atmospheric with it. I brainstormed some for this but couldn’t get it to gel.

The plan for the third was ‘unusual haunted location’ and for that I was going to write the Linctavia + haunted pirate ship idea from my Halloween list. This was also on the agenda for Halloween 2022. I think the idea of ghosts on the ocean is very potent (think the Demeter section from Dracula, everything from Moby Dick) and I still really want to take the handful of imagery floating around my head around this idea and put it down into something coherent. Worries me a little that I still have not, because sometimes projects get stuck if you just let them sit for too long—like uh all my projects—but maybe it’s time will still come.

Ficlet four was “haunted objects” but honestly what I was going to use for this spot was really a stretch for that theme. But it was also the ficlet I was most excited about and planned the most for and one I still really want to write! The idea was a canon-verse Ark-era, Raven-centric, Grabinksi-inspired tale of engineering legends and the mystical imbued-spirit of the ship. And maybe it wouldn’t have worked but it feels like it has such potential in my head!

And finally, I wanted to round out the series with a ficlet that somehow captured the feeling of the word ‘haunted.’ This one was mostly just an aesthetic list, I won’t even lie: the vibes I wanted it to capture, the mood, rather than anything too concrete. I was sort of toying with a Bellamy + Wells centric canon-AU fic but it was super, super vague. Honestly, I think the mood I wanted to put here was probably captured well by the first ficlet. The other three I’d like to write eventually, though probably not as part of a ‘hauntings’ series, but this one I don’t think I’ll ever develop more.

[veebs-hates-video-games]

Since the last post I've mostly been playing Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition, because I kept seeing posts about stuff from XC1 and hadn't played it since the Wii version. Now there's a game that's still great. Also a couple other things I just started, but those can wait until I'm further in them to get their own posts.

What actually prompted this though was Subnautica finally going on sale for $10 again instead of various higher prices it's been for a while now. Steam tried to warn me by pointing out that I deliberately blocked the tags "open world survival craft" and "survival horror", but it can't save me from myself. Subnautica got grandfathered in when I made the decision to stop pretending I might like games like that because enough people managed to sell me on the atmosphere and general vibes before that.

Well, turns out I still don't like survival crafting games, whether they're Subnautica or No Man's Sky or Don't Starve or whatever other ones are almost universally acknowledged to be both very good and very popular.

I knew things were off to a good start when I found the text speed slider in the settings. I adjusted it to match my reading speed, which is significantly faster than the default, and then I discovered that that wasn't a good idea. If the subtitles are specifically for the spoken dialogue, just time the subtitles to the dialogue and be done with it. Changing the speed just makes them go away faster, like three words into a sentence that's still being read for a while with no text on the screen, which seems both unintuitive and not useful. Maybe there's some situation where someone would want that, but I can't think of it (possibly because I only have minor hearing problems and am somewhat out of the loop with what actual deaf people prefer?).

Anyway, the game seemed desperate to not give me any information on anything, or to tell me what to do, or to tell me what I even could do or how. That's in theory fine when the entire point of the game is exploration and discovery, but at least give me an initial shove in a direction. It did vaguely hint at stuff, but for like 45 minutes I just felt like every time I tried to follow up on some vague suggestion it just led to a whole bunch of stuff I had no way to interact with or stuff that killed me. Sometimes both if I was lucky.

If you want me to want to explore stuff, maybe reward my exploration? Maybe I just consistently picked the wrong way to go for most of an hour, but I just kept finding a whole lot of nothing I could do anything with. I joked on Discord that maybe in another 20 minutes I'd find a second piece of copper ore and could finally make something useful...and then it did actually take that long somehow. I found lots of sea life and random wreckage, but with zero way to interact with any of it it might as well have been completely inert or not there at all.

By like an hour and a half I was ready to give up and had lost interest, but in the process it also kind of made me want to stop pretending I'm going to go back to Outer Wilds and finish it and just uninstall that along with Subnautica too. Totally different kind of game, but I find the progression in it frustrating too after a point. In survival games I feel like I'm wasting so much time just surviving and not actually making a lot of meaningful forward progress on building up my character or abilities or tools or exploring the world or anything, while at maybe halfway through Outer Wilds I was starting to get a similar feeling from spending so much of my time doing the same stuff over and over again to make relatively small progress because there's no way to just skip directly back to where I was. Absolutely fascinating game and world, but the fundamental structure of it just makes some stuff feel really tedious for me.

And thinking about all that made me realize it's a lot of the same stuff that makes me not get along with Breath of the Wild either. Other Zelda games, even the original that BotW is supposedly trying to get back to, generally have a particular kind of consistent progression in them. No matter where you're going and what you're doing, you're still finding new parts of the world and new ways to interact with the world. Each new item you get opens up possibilities for how to interact with the world and solve problems, both in terms of puzzles and combat. BotW gives you nearly all your tools in the tutorial, and then the entire rest of the game has extremely minimal of that sort of progression. You don't keep getting new tools every couple hours, and with the constantly breaking weapons you don't even get a consistent stream of upgrades there either. Unlike most other Zelda games it really just felt like I was treading water and never being rewarded with new ways of playing the game, and for me that kinda sucks.

I can happily spend far too many hours playing a Warriors/Musou game, sometimes even when the overall rate of progression is slower than in games like these, because it always feels like I am progressing no matter what. It's just really unsatisfying to me to have this constant backward movement that I have to spend 80% of my time in the game compensating for.

Anyway, thanks Subnautica for being the last game on my list in this genre and for me finally accepting and acknowledging that I never have to play stuff like this again even if everyone else I know likes it. Now I can go back to silently dreading that Tears of the Kingdom, the next game in one of my favorite series, won't change any of those things from BotW at all.

[norcumii]

your name came up in one of the discord screenshots about the flamethrower drama, i didn't want to ask until i saw your tag comments but it was about useing your goodname to weigh in on this situation. Honestly i don't know the truth of what happened other than the alleged abuse matches personal experiences from completely different irl people

This is fascinating. Now, maybe I missed a post in all the drama – gods know I’ve tried to keep clear of a lot since I cannot with much of anything lately (see the recent lack of regular posting), but I honestly don’t know how many discord screenshots ARE running around in the first place, let alone which ones you’re referencing. The one post I do know about, I couldn’t find my name ANYWHERE in there until in the actual text down near the bottom of a very large image. Hell, I don’t think I even spoke up in any of those screenshots. 

So I have no idea if this is actually in good faith or not, but let’s proceed as if it is just in case, given I have no idea what’s actually being asked in the first place. Here’s my best guess!

Look, I’ll be honest. I don’t know what went down – I wasn’t there when shit happened. In 2016, I was getting out of my own terrible relationship, and spending several years focused ENTIRELY on trying to become functional again while trying not to watch Agent Orange burn down the White House. It was still a really stressful time, even out of that relationship.

Here’s what I do know. I’ve been chatting with Flamethrower pretty consistently over roughly 8 years. The only times I’ve EVER heard anything about phoenixes, aliens, gods, demons, and/or angels has solely been in the realm of discussing fic. I don’t recall reincarnation even coming up once in any context. I’d like to think we’re pretty good friends, so one would think if that was a significant part of her identity there’d be SOME kind of segue when we were talking about related elements over eight years.

It would be some pretty impressive compartmentalization to keep me entirely ignorant about that. Certainly not impossible, but impressive given how our conversations tend to wander. And even if that IS the case, even if she does believe any of the more out there things, consider this: I’ve been talking with her for eight years, and not once has this come up. If she does buy into anything about phoenixes, aliens, gods, demons, and/or angels, then for the last eight years she’s respected my boundaries and interest and/or lack thereof regarding theology and mysticism to never even get into it. Seriously, any time that part of the accusations shows up, THAT part is the one that leaves me gaping and gesturing in vague and useless circles because it comes entirely out of left field. If she does believe it, she sure as shit isn’t working to spread that doctrine. 

I visited Flamethrower and her family somewhere in...*squints* 2015? Early 2016? I don’t know offhand, just somewhere in the last year or so of my hell relationship, but before their housemate moved in. And I spent a delightful long weekend with her and her family. The kids were incredibly sweet and one even lent me their room for that time so I’d have a cat free place to sleep – I’m wildly allergic to cats, to the point where I tend to travel with my own air filter nowadays because unfortunately, so many of my friends also have cats.

The atmosphere was thoroughly comfortable – I do know for a fact that during that time and for several years afterwards, I was hypervigilant to interpersonal stress and friction (the first few times my parents had tiffs and disagreements after I moved back in with them were WILDLY stressful and I was freaked out WELL out of proportion to their grumpiness with each other). I think there wasn’t 100% smooth sailing – there was something about a meal not going as planned, I think? And the kids had a few disagreements – but it was all settled pretty quick and gave off the vibe that these are folks who know how to conflict resolution. Sure I got a little twitchy - I still do when watching interpersonal conflict on tv. It cleared out very quickly, and far moreso than when my folks have had disagreements. 

(For the record, the kid who lent me their room never seemed grumpy or resentful about the fact, and both kids seemed to be happy to have a guest over. The biggest issue seemed to be that I tended to slip and addressing them as ‘kiddos’ which they were very kind in continuing to correct me to not do that.)

Even the cats were wildly friendly – even moreso than the usual “ah, new human I see you are allergic PET ME THAT WILL MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER” shenanigans I tend to get from random animals. I recall that at one point I was sitting on a couch, poking my laptop while chatting with folks, and one of the cats decided it was the perfect time to cuddle up in my lap for pettings. I screeched and tried to levitate; the cat kept going right OVER my legs and had to be corralled by one of the humans.

I don’t understand how in a high conflict environment the cats could be THAT comfortable not just around a new stranger, but also to go running TO their humans for protection.

I did not see ANY evidence of violence, unusual levels of strife, or controlling behavior. I have no freaking idea what went down in a household I wasn’t in. I remember during 2016 to 2018 there were chat conversations about strained interactions; very occasionally annoying neighbors; NEVER anything about any sort of demons or demonic possessions. Really, to my knowledge all we have is the claims of one person against the other, and when it comes to the claims I’ve been hearing against Flamethrower?

I just know that the math doesn’t seem to add up.

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 3.

Part 1- Here

Previous part Here

Next Part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship

Where we left off-

You glanced up at the sound of the door. In came your parents, then the Yokomadas. You did a double take as the final person, the omega you were here to meet, entered the room. They looked equally as startled as your eyes locked.

“Y/N?”

“Denki?!”

You slowly walked through the teahouse garden, your electric blond friend oddly silent as he kept pace with you. Your parents and the Yokomadas had allowed the two of you a bit of privacy to talk. So far, neither of you had mustered the courage to break the awkward atmosphere. Neither your parents or the Yokomadas had seemed to pick up on Denki or your mood. If anything, they were thrilled you two already knew each other. With a sigh, you sat on a bench by the koi pond, not looking at the blond as to settled down next to you. After several minutes, he spoke.

“So. What are you doing here?”

You snorted, and gently dumped your shoulder against his.

“Right back at you, Pikachu.”

“I’ll tell you. After you tell me.”

You chuckled humorously, and tilted your head back to look at the sky.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just here to appease my mother?”

Denki considered for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. You’ve been saying no to her for years. So tell me, why are you here.”

You take a deep breath and let it out again slowly through your nose.

“I… I think I wanted to be here. Needed to.” You wrung your hands, throwing a sideways glance at Denki. “I… I want to be mated. Have a family. Have someone who needs me and lets me need them. I used to think Kat… I used to think Bakugou was my person. But I’m not sure anymore, Denks. You know what he’s like and so do I, but I’ve waited for years, and nothing, and I’m so tired, and I’m not even sure he even likes me anymore, and…” You’re stopped by Kaminari gently rubbing your back.

“Breath, Y/n. Come on. Deep breaths.”

You inhaled shakily. You hadn’t even noticed you’d been hyperventilating. Quiet settled again, aside from the sounds of nature and your slowly slowing breathing. After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I’m just so lonely, Denks. I see him every day, and I’m still so goddamn lonely. So I think… I think it’s time to let go.” Your lips twitched slightly upward as you tilt your head to look at him. “Am I terrible?”

Denki huffed out a breath and shook his head. “You? Never.” He sighed, removing his hand from you back as he began picking at the hem of his sleeve. “I wish I could say I didn’t understand. But I do. I’m kinda here for the same reason after all.”

You gave an encouraging hum and reached out, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He interlaced your fingers, giving a squeeze before continuing to speak.

“You know how I feel about Shinso, right?”

“I think everyone but Shinso knows how you feel about him.”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Not surprised. But that’s the problem. I’ve liked him for years. Little bit of a crush but at UA, thought I could play it cool and it would go away; but then the agency paired us together and, well.” Denki gestured with the hand not holding yours. “It was so easy! I’d go boom! And then he’d go pow! Then shoom! It was amazing! He was amazing… And so I tried to get his attention. I tried so damn hard. And you know me.”

You snorted, giving his hand a squeeze. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a living room window.”

“Exactly!” He shouted, pulling away to stand up and pace. “I flirted. I used all my best pick up lines. I asked him out to the club, and he said yes. But do you know what he said afterward? He said though it wasn’t his usual scene, it was really good being able to hang out with a friend. I… I asked him to spend my heat with me.”

You inhaled sharply. Kaminari looked at you with an expression you hardly recognized. He collapsed onto the bench, leaning heavily against you.

“He said ‘I’m glad you’re that comfortable with me, but it probably would be better for you to ask someone else.’” Denki whispered, sniffling.

“Oh.. Denki.” You wrapped your arms around the blond, squeezing him tightly. Half out of instinct, you tried to pump out soothing pheromones while you gently scented his hair. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, sweetheart. You’re a wonderful omega!”

That was all it took for Denki to start sobbing heavily in your arms. You squeezed him tightly as tears filled your own eyes. The tears fell when Denki wrapped his arms around you, hugging you just as tightly as you held him. There in the tranquil garden you both huddled together as you finally allowed yourself to cry. Years of hurt and longing fell from your eyes one drop at a time.

You weren’t sure how long it had been when the two of you slowly pulled away from each other. You used your thumbs to wipe Denki’s cheeks. He gave you a halfhearted smile.

“So,” you asked tentatively, “what should we do? They’re going to expect an answer from us about this whole…” You waved a vague hand “Marriage date thing.”

Denki hummed, puffing up his cheeks as he blew out a breath. “God, I don’t know. Certainly wasn’t expecting it be you, you know? No offense.”

You drew back, gasping in mock anger. “Full offense!” You could only hold your expression a few seconds before you started snickering.

Denki grinned his first really grin of the day. “Well excuuuuse me for insulting your alpha sensibilities.”

“You’re excused. For now.”

You both chuckled. Looking out at the pond, you spoke again. “I just wish I had the right answers. And I really wish we had more time.”

Denki furrowed his brow. “Well… Technically, we could.”

“What do you mean?”

Denki bounced on his seat. “Okay. So. Hear me out. We both need time to process, clearly. Also clearly, our families are just not gonna give us that. So… Why don’t we do this?”

“Wait. Wait. We do this?” you asked, both curious and incredulous.

“Yeah! Think about it. One! They mainly want us in relationships they approved of. They set us up, so clearly, they approve. Two! If we say we’d like to try out this match, they obviously aren’t going to set up any more dates; therefore buying us time. And bonus of no annoying randos. Three! We can say we’re going to take the relationship slow because we’ve both been burned before and want to make sure. Four! Four…” Denki trailed off, looking at his feet.

“Four is maybe if we can’t find a love match at least we’re friends who work well together?” You murmured.

Denki nodded, glancing at you with a rueful smirk. “Yeah. Exactly. Vibe on the same wavelength. Hell, we even want similar shit in life.”

“Actual house, few pets, stability…”

Denki nodded again. “Sucks, but would make sense for us to consider it. As much as I fucking hate the ‘You’re not getting any younger’ speech, they are kind right. We can’t waste all our time waiting for things that aren’t gonna happen.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “God, don’t you hate it when they’re right about shit like that?”

“You have no idea.”

You stood, stretching. “Well, I guess we go tell them, then.”

Denki groaned. “There isn’t enough saki in the world for that conversation.”

“And just so we’re clear, this stays between us for now, right? No one knows but us, our folks, and I guess your cousins.”

“Agreed. I don’t want to think about what anyone would say. Bakugou would kill me!”

You winced. “Unlikely. I doubt he’d care. But if Mina finds out, everyone will know.”

“You’re not kidding. No worries from me, I don't want this getting out any more than you do.”

“So… Engaged, I guess?”

Denki dusted himself off and stood. “Deal. Engaged.” Denki stuck his hand out, and you shook it.

You both turned and started making your way back to the teahouse, taking your time and going the long way to be sure to avoid and of the other patrons. This was fine. A good plan. Nothing could go wrong as long as no one found out.

And there you have part 3! Sorry the wait and thank you all for being patient! If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or how this particular omegaverse operates, please feel free to shoot me an ask. Also, please note that @snuggleyourredpandas is my main account, so it you see a message reply from them, that's me!

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @one-simp-more, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I'd have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

[loudlyunladylike]

you got any c!niki songs?

This ask is hella old so my apologies, but hi hi hello!!! ee!! So ok I'm actually in the process of making a lil playlist rn (very small at the moment because I can't remember all of them oops so I'm taking suggestions 👉👈) so I thought I would just go through my thoughts on each of those at the mo!

1. "Burning House" by Cam

I made a post featuring this one! Gives me Pogtopia Niki and Will vibes, they are both stuck in these separate places filled with pain and hurt but Wilbur can't get Niki out of Manberg because it wouldn't be safe and Niki can't get Wilbur out of Pogtopia as his mental health keeps getting worse and worse ("I had a dream about a burning house, you were stuck inside I couldn't get you out") but alas throughout the whole time they still cared about eachother, they still tried, Wilbur shows up at her birthday party and saves her at the festival, Niki stands alone against the rest of Manberg to stand up for not just herself but also Wilbur and Tommy ("I'll stay here with you until this dream is gone") . To me this song also feels like looking back in hindsight maybe more from the perspective of her alone in her secret city, as her own mental health declines and she locks herself away due to her night terrors ("I've been sleepwalking too close to the fire but it's the only place that I can hold you tight") especially with all the parallels that can be drawn between Niki and Wilbur's declining mental health at that point ("I lay beside you and pulled you close and the two of us went up in smoke")

2. "Pretty Little Things" by The Crane Wives

Ok so I first heard this song in this Niki animatic so I can direct you right over there because god it is good I actually get chills watching it. So I think they demonstrate it quite well in that but to give you a vague idea, it gives me the vibes of Niki around doomsday era; she's still sad about missing Wilbur ("Past loves linger like phantom limbs") but she's also angry and she is done. There's also a depiction of the green festival where Niki's anger at Will starts projecting on to Tommy and she feels like she simply can't trust him and stay at his side ("But trust is now something I make people earn, so I'm not inclined to just give it away to a pair of blue eyes with some nice things to say"). I am also a massive fan of my Niki and hope symbolism so it makes it all just incredibly heartbreaking; she had so much hope and love in L'manberg and Will but alas it seems to have wilted away ("I don't believe the pretty little things that you say, I've heard a lot of little pretty things. Don't buy me flowers it pains me to watch pretty little things wilt away, pretty little things wilt away")

3. "A Burning Hill" by Mitski

See I thought of this as Niki song anyways but someone also made this cool animatic that Niki even commented on so check that out if you like! But yeah this is like that sad atmosphere after doomsday I think, like again we've got that incredibly sad loss of hope from such a hope-filled character ("I think I'm finally worn") along with her reminiscences of Wilbur ("For you have a way of promising things") which could honestly sound angry in another context but here just sounds sad. And then of course where would we be without the fire imagery ("I am the fire and I am the forest and I am the witness watching it") relating to both her repeated actual scenes in relation to fire but also her growing inner fire because it's always been there whether it be hopeful bright sparks or an angry forest fire, the more destruction and "fire" she sees around her the more her inner fire grows. Perfect examples of this being the parallels between the burning of the flag and the burning of the L'mantree; both instances of destruction being all around, the first time she watches her pillar of hope go up in flames, the second time she is the fire itself lighting it but both times she wishes Wilbur was there ("I stand in a valley watching it and you are not there at all"). The song also ends off on a bit of a hopeful but also sad note ("And I'll love the littler things, I'll love some littler things") doomsday is over, L'manberg is gone and she has cut off connections to most of her friends, maybe this a a chance to start anew and love some new things but there is still a sense that maybe she should just love some littler things, maybe she hoped to big last time, loved to big last time and that's heartbreaking.

4. "Graceland Too" by Phoebe Bridgers

This was a recommendation from the lovely @/foxesdontscareme and it is a truly beautiful song, and great for a healing arc Niki! Niki gives up on the nuke Tommy plot and takes Techno up on his syndicate offer ("No longer a danger to herself or others, she made up her mind and laced up her shoes") and thus she begins the process of trying to pull herself out of her own downward spiral before it's too late. She changes her secret city once again, replacing the lava and mismatched bricks with quartz walls and gardens and a bakery that she invites her friends to ("Yelled down the hall but nobody answered so she walked outside without an excuse"). She is still lost without L'manberg and it's community ("Doesn't know what she wants or what she's gonna do, a rebel without a clue") but it is now being approached with a more hopeful tone, she doesn't fully know exactly what she's going to do but she's hopeful about it this time. Recently Niki's mental health hasn't been the best but honestly the goal in my mind is that she one day reaches a more peaceful, healthier point and this will all be the perfect vibe ("Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment") <33 pls

5. "Learning To Hate You As A Self Defense Mechanism" by Flatsound

Ok sadness again. This is the Niki song that cc!Niki herself tied to c!Niki when she found out Wilbur was alive, I also made a post about this one pfft! But this song is exactly what it says it is so in this case an exploration into Niki's unhealthy mechanisms on "coping" with Wilbur's return. After the nuke plot failed Niki realised that none of what she was blaming Tommy for was really his fault; underneath all the projection she was still upset and annoyed at Wilbur. But Niki and Wilbur were best friends, she obviously loved and cared for him and she still does but in an attempt to preserve her new safe space and the distance she has tried to put between herself and L'manberg she tries to remind herself or simply just tell herself that he hurt her and that she must hate him for that ("So I'll hold on to this feeling, I'll hold on to this hate, for as long as I need for it to help me"). Niki tells herself that Wilbur must have never cared about her or anyone, that she must have just been stupid for believing him ("Was it my fault because I easily confused you for someone who would hold my hand") because it's easier to cut yourself off from someone if you believe nothing was really there in the first place, if the diamonds meant nothing and if she lies to herself that he never checked up or visited her in Manberg ("you would leave when I got sick"). However, underneath it all, no matter how much she lies to herself she cares, and she wishes she could see him and talk to him ("You never called me on my birthday, I want to call you on your birthday")

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

tangle up the true and the fable

A/N: empires!scott and empires!jimmy have hella enemies to lovers vibes. so take enemies to hey-wait-were-we-lovers-in-a-past-life to friends. also joel and lizzie make a cameo appearance. title is from Rose by The Oh Hellos! (also reblogs > likes)

Warnings: arguing, death mention, flirting, cave-ins, cave spiders, injury, vague description of cave spider venom effects, nonchalant talk of the minecraft respawn mechanic, near death experiences, explosions, talk of past/alternate lives, angst with a happy ending, hopeful ending

Summary: Jimmy doesn't understand why the ruler of Rivendell doesn't seem to like him. He supposes that going on a mining trip in Scott's mountains without asking permission doesn't exactly help matters much though. But when the two of them end up trapped in the caves, will they be able to set aside their differences to survive?

-

Jimmy should really start thinking before he did things. Like stealing- ahem. Borrowing some cake ingredients from Sausage, which in turn caused him to steal Jimmy's prized music disc. Or whatever was the deal with the Rivendell ruler, Scott. Jimmy wasn't sure what exactly he did to get on the elf's bad side, but Scott didn't seem to like him very much. Well... at least sometimes he seemed to hate Jimmy. Sometimes it seemed like... something else. Jimmy couldn't quite place it- maybe he did want to be best friends after all? But whatever the case, things were always a little tense between the rulers of the Cod Empire and Rivendell. And it seemed today was no exception.

He was in dire need of more materials, and the swamp wasn't very rich in caves. And Jimmy had already explored most of the caves in his empire. So while he couldn't entirely rationalize why, he decided to go on a trip to the mountains to gather materials. It was a stupid idea, going near the empire of someone who possibly hated him, but part of him hoped that he would see Scott. Maybe he could work out some sort of alliance instead of their squabbling and occasional attempts to kill each other. Besides, he wasn't going to the actual mountain Scott lived on, just the ones near his mountain. Surely that’d be far enough to not anger him, but close enough to suggest an amicable atmosphere? Right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Jimmy had barely gotten deep in a cave in the mountains when Scott appeared, like he had some sort of “Jimmy-being-an-idiot” sixth sense. The elf admittedly was an imposing sight- enchanted diamond armor, an enchanted diamond axe strapped to his back, arms crossed over his chest, a golden circlet with antlers branching up from it, and blue eyes glinting with irritation. Those eyes seemed to see right through Jimmy, scrutinizing and seeing him for who he truly was. Not the Codfather, a strong leader- but a swamp boy whose sweet intentions got him into trouble more often than not.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked, voice cold and unimpressed. Jimmy frowned at the elf’s tone.

“Mining,” Jimmy said simply, crossing his arms right back at Scott. He rolled his eyes in response.

“Obviously, but why are you doing so in my empire?” Scott asked pointedly.

“I’m not mining in your mountain though!” Jimmy protested, a little confused at Scott’s irritation. Scott let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache coming on.

“Jimmy. All the mountains around here are mine,” Scott said bluntly, dropping his hand to glare at Jimmy. Well now he felt a little sheepish. But still, he didn’t understand why Scott had to get all irritated about it, maybe they could work something out. Jimmy took on an easygoing smile, causing Scott to knit his brows in confusion.

“I know I shouldn’t have been here, and I didn’t realize this mountain was part of your empire. If you want the materials I gathered, I’m more than willing to-”

“Oh, sorry about that, buddy! Tell you what, I’ll give you-”

“I’m not your buddy,” Scott said, cutting Jimmy off and causing his easy smile to melt away near instantly. Jimmy sighed.

“I don’t want anything from you, I just want you to leave,” Scott said, interrupting Jimmy again, and honestly it was getting pretty hard for Jimmy to continue being amicable if Scott was going to be like this for the whole conversation.

“Fine! I was only trying to come to a peaceful resolution here, no need to be a jerk like always,” Jimmy huffed, slinging his pickaxe over his shoulder and starting to head out of the cave. Scott made an irritated sound, quickly following after him.

“Oh, I’m sorry for being mean when you’re the one who showed up in my empire unannounced and unwanted!” Scott fumed, hands gesturing wildly as he kept up with Jimmy’s brisk pace.

“Like I said, didn’t realize this was part of your empire. And I’m leaving now, so you can stop following me,” Jimmy huffed. Scott stopped to stare at him incredulously, and Jimmy paused as well to raise an eyebrow at him.

“This cave only has one exit, you idiot. We both have to go this way,” Scott pointed out with a scoff. Jimmy made a frustrated sound, and was about to make a retort- but heard a hiss and saw a green shape ambling towards them from an unlit portion of the cave. Jimmy didn’t have time to draw his sword, and Scott was too busy glaring at Jimmy to notice the creeper heading towards them. So in a split-second decision, Jimmy tackled Scott to the ground right before the creeper exploded and caused a chunk of the cave to crumble down right where the two of them had been standing. Debris showered over the two of them, and Jimmy instinctively shielded Scott from it, even though he had been shouting at the elf mere moments prior. The dust settled, and it was then he realized how close he and Scott were, their noses practically touching.

“You alright?” Jimmy asked, surprising himself with how soft and concerned his voice came out. Scott looked at him with wide eyes and an almost flustered expression, until he schooled it down into smooth indifference.

“You’re supposed to take me to dinner before you pin me like that,” Scott teased with a smirk. Jimmy rolled his eyes, getting up off of Scott before offering a hand to help him up.

“I think you’re supposed to thank me for saving your life,” Jimmy shot back. Scott scowled at him, ignoring the offered hand and getting to his feet on his own, brushing the dirt off of his clothes.

“Thank you for what? Tackling me and giving me a near concussion? Or the fact that we’re now both stuck here?” Scott asked, gesturing at the cave-in. Following the direction of Scott’s hand, Jimmy looked to the cave opening. Or rather, the lack of a cave opening. The creeper explosion must have hit some loose gravel in the ceiling, because the weak rock had given way to a whole mess of stone to fall and block off their only exit.

“Maybe we could dig through it?” Jimmy wondered. Scott rolled his eyes.

“With your luck, that would only make it worse. Besides I didn’t bring a pickaxe, and I don’t think you could dig that out by yourself. We’re just gonna have to turn around and hope there’s another way out,” Scott said, turning and heading deeper in the cave. Jimmy scrambled after him in protest.

“Or we could stay here and call for help! I’m sure one of my allies would be willing to help me, or maybe you’ve got a closer ally who’d be willing to dig us out-”

“No. We’re better off trying to find our own way out. Besides, I don’t have allies- having alliances means having enemies too, and I’d much rather stay above the conflict if you don’t mind,” Scott said, stubbornly continuing forward. Jimmy groaned, reluctantly following after Scott.

“Fine, have it your way. But you let me know when you change your mind,” Jimmy said, not having the energy to argue with Scott’s weird animosity towards alliances. So instead, he followed his not-really-enemy but not-really-friend either deeper into the darkness, torchlight their only savior.

-

Going deeper into the cave was not providing them with a way out. They did, however, come across a mineshaft- which was a small but still not great shimmering light of hope. It was possible the mineshaft could be connected to another cave that could lead them out, so braving the mineshaft it was. Besides, there could be good loot to be had- even if Scott claimed most of it since it was, technically, part of his empire. And that was fine with Jimmy, he was trying to offer what he had found to Scott earlier anway. However, there was one problem with mineshafts, and that was the tendency of cave spiders making their nests in them. And it figures with Jimmy’s rotten luck that they would come across one of those nests. And even worse, Jimmy managed to get a hand caught in one of the webs at the edge of it.

“Stop struggling, you’re just gonna alert them that we’re here!” Scott hissed, trying to cut away at the cobwebs ensnaring Jimmy’s hand.

“If you cut at it any slower, they’re just gonna see us anyway!” Jimmy whisper-shouted back, but kept his hand still as Scott asked anyhow. But of course, as if things couldn’t get any worse, one of the cave spiders had noticed them. It jumped at Jimmy, but Scott moved in front of him just in time to intercept it instead, and struggled only for a moment before he managed to kill it. Scott was hunched over for a moment, trying to catch his breath- and despite his warnings not to, Jimmy yanked his hand free from the cobwebs to rush to his side, seeing the glittering red eyes in the distance. He opened his mouth to ask if Scott was alright, but he abruptly stood upright and pushed Jimmy towards a corridor of the mineshaft that was not infested with cave spiders.

“Go, we gotta get out of here!” he cried, running and pulling Jimmy along with him. Jimmy didn’t argue, keeping pace with Scott and cutting down a few cave spiders that got too close. They ran and turned down corridor after corridor, until they were sure that the spiders had lost interest. They stopped for a moment to catch their breath, and Jimmy eyed Scott with concern. He was holding his shoulder and looked rather pale- well, paler than usual.

“Scott?” Jimmy asked, voice gentle. Scott squeezed his eyes shut, like Jimmy had spoken too loudly, and took a beat longer to respond than Jimmy would have liked.

“I’m fine,” Scott said, not very convincingly at all. Jimmy frowned, stepping forward and reaching for the hand Scott had clasped tightly over his own shoulder. Jimmy instantly knew something was wrong when Scott didn’t push him away and let him remove his hand. Scott’s hand came away slick with blood, and Jimmy hissed in sympathy at the sickly green state of the wound. Cave spider bite, right in the gap of Scott’s armor. And it seemed the venom was working pretty fast through his system. Suddenly, as if taking his hand off of his shoulder had sapped all his energy, Scott’s knees gave out and he collapsed into Jimmy. With a startled gasp, Jimmy managed to catch Scott, wrapping his free arm around his waist and trying to keep him somewhat upright. His hand still clutched Scott’s, and his hand had shifted to clutch Jimmy’s back just as tightly. His head drooped down to rest on Jimmy’s shoulder, the antlers of his circlet poking him slightly, and a cold spike of fear shot through Jimmy at how feverish Scott’s forehead felt against his neck. Scott had only just been bitten. If he was in such bad shape already… Jimmy didn’t want to think about it.

“You’re hot,” Jimmy blurted, a little horrified. Scott let out a borderline delirious chuckle.

“Took you long enough to notice,” Scott teased, voice weak with pain. Jimmy let out a startled laugh.

“Scott, quit flirting for one minute, you’re dying,” Jimmy reprimanded, a little shocked at how wobbly his own voice sounded.

“I’ll just respawn, it’s not the end of the world. Nice to know you care though,” Scott said tiredly, although Jimmy could hear the slight smile in his voice. Jimmy froze a bit at his words. Yeah… that was right, Scott would just respawn. He’d lose his stuff and his enchantment levels, but he’d wake up in bed, right as rain. So why was Jimmy so worried for a moment? Why did Scott dying in his arms suddenly feel like the end of the world? And most baffling of all, why did the thought of losing someone who was at most an acquaintance rattle him so much? Yet here he was, clinging to Scott like he would disappear forever.

“I… of course I care! You’re the one who’s pushing me away, not the other way around,” Jimmy said, deciding not to address the fact that he had somehow forgotten about respawning being a thing. Scott laughed humorlessly, and him not having any sort of witty response was extremely telling of how worse off Scott was doing. He had been leaning into Jimmy more and more throughout the weak banter, and Jimmy finally knelt down and shifted Scott to be comfortably resting in his lap, his head still leaning on his shoulder, but turned so that Jimmy could see him.

“Your face makes for a pretty last thing to see before I die,” Scott said softly, and Jimmy blinked in surprise, unsure of how to take that.

“Didn’t realize a side effect of cave spider venom was delirium,” Jimmy settled on, causing Scott to let out a pained wheeze of a laugh.

“Think the side effect is actually brutal honesty,” Scott said, sounding a little wistful. Okay, well Jimmy really didn’t know how to respond to that. Scott, dying in his arms and looking at him all soft and adoring like Jimmy was a- a lover or something. So maybe it was that gentle look in Scott’s eyes even as he was dying, or Jimmy not wanting to deal with the blood of a fellow ruler on his hands, or just not wanting to watch someone die in general that caused him to shift and reach for something in his bag he had found in their journey through the mineshaft. He held out a golden apple to Scott, who looked at it with confusion.

“Nabbed it from a chest when you weren’t looking. I know you’ll just respawn, but cave spider venom is a pretty terrible way to go,” Jimmy said, smiling softly. Scott just blinked, not moving to take the apple.

“Jimmy-”

“Shut up and take the apple, Scott,” Jimmy insisted, for once cutting Scott off instead of the other way around. Scott sighed, and with a shaking hand, he grabbed the apple and took a bite. Almost immediately, color came back to Scott’s face and the green started to recede from the shoulder wound. A few more bites, and the bleeding stopped, the wound started closing up, and Scott was no longer leaning on Jimmy so heavily. He did, however, seem perfectly content to stay in Jimmy’s arms. Jimmy couldn’t really find it in himself to detach himself from Scott either.

“Thanks,” Scott said softly, like he was afraid to say it, after he had finished the apple. Jimmy chuckled.

“I should be thanking you, you’re the one who threw yourself between me and that cave spider,” Jimmy said, immensely glad that he remembered finding the golden apple before it was too late. Otherwise Scott, who usually didn’t seem to like him, would have died because of Jimmy.

“You saved me from the creeper earlier, I was just repaying the favor. Of course now I owe you again, because you healed me,” Scott said with a mock irritated tone, grinning all the while. Jimmy unceremoniously dumped him on the cave floor for that, ignoring his startled shout of protest to instead stand up.

“Well, maybe you could repay me by finally letting me contact one of my allies to help us,” Jimmy replied with a grin of his own. Scott pouted a little, still grumpy about being forcibly moved off of Jimmy’s lap.

“That was rude, I’m still recovering! Jerk,” Scott huffed, but there was no true anger in his tone. Jimmy shook his head fondly, offering a hand to Scott. He took it, and only stumbled a little bit as he got back to his feet. Fortunately Jimmy was there to steady him, ignoring the “I-told-you-so” look Scott gave him.

“You’ll live, thanks to me. Now can I message for help so that we can get out of here?” Jimmy asked. Scott let out a dramatic sigh.

“I guess so. Give them the coordinates for the cave entrance, we can head back in that direction and meet them halfway,” Scott said. Jimmy nodded, getting out his communicator to send a message to Joel.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna stay in this mineshaft any longer than we have to,” Jimmy said as he typed. Scott hovered over his shoulder, correcting Jimmy on the coordinate numbers before he sent the message off to Joel. Luckily, Joel wasn’t busy and responded fairly quickly, saying that he was on his way.

“Ready to get out of here?” Scott asked, once Jimmy had read Joel’s message to him.

“Absolutely,” Jimmy said, pocketing his communicator and walking side by side with Scott.

-

They reached the cave-in before Joel had arrived, but they didn’t have to wait too long before they heard Joel calling out for them. It seemed Lizzie had come along as well, as Jimmy could hear her voice along with Joel’s. He was a little surprised to hear her, as Jimmy wasn’t officially allied with Lizzie, but he supposed it made sense. Lizzie was married to Joel, and Lizzie’s empire was connected to Jimmy’s by water.

“We’re here!” Jimmy called back.

“Oh good, you didn’t kill each other,” Joel called back, a smile in his voice. Jimmy rolled his eyes, even if Joel couldn’t see him.

“I’ll have you know I saved Scott twice in these caves,” Jimmy shot back with a grin. Scott groaned in annoyance.

“You’re gonna hold this over my head, aren’t you,” Scott grumbled.

“Only a little bit,” Jimmy replied, relieved when Scott wasn’t actually all that annoyed, due to the chuckle he got in response.

“Stand back boys, I’ve got TNT!” Lizzie exclaimed, breaking the moment of banter. Scott and Jimmy exchanged wide-eyed glances, scrambling away from the rubble.

“Uh… you do know that explosions are what got us into this mess in the first place, right?” Scott asked nervously.

“It’ll be faster than trying to dig you out,” Joel replied, before the click of a flint and steel was heard.

“Does it alarm you at all that they have TNT already?” Scott whispered.

“They’re my allies. Or at least Joel is. Not sure why Lizzie came along, actually,” Jimmy replied with a shrug. Before Scott could reply, the TNT went off, destroying the rubble and revealing Joel and Lizzie on the other side.

“When I heard Joel was off to rescue the sweet swamp boy, I had to come along!” Lizzie said with a grin, poking her head through the hole in the rubble. Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment at the nickname, while Scott was poorly hiding his laugh behind a cough.

“She was with me when I got your message, I figured the extra help couldn’t hurt,” Joel explained.

“Well thank you, both of you. We really appreciate it,” Jimmy said, climbing out of the hole in the rubble with Lizzie’s help.

“You’re welcome! Although it sounds like you had the rescuing Scott part handled,” she teased with a wink.

“Hey! The only reason he saved me the second time was because I got bit by a cave spider that was coming for him. So I did some saving too,” Scott protested as he followed Jimmy out. Joel looked to Scott with concern.

“Do you need any health potions? I brought some just in case,” Joel offered, starting to dig through his pack.

“Nah, Jimmy gave me a golden apple that he stole from me,” Scott said, nudging Jimmy playfully. Jimmy laughed, pushing at him back.

“I didn’t steal it, I just took it from a minecart chest before you noticed it,” Jimmy retorted.

“A minecart chest that was in my empire,” Scott shot back with a grin. Jimmy was going to snap back, but Lizzie came to stand in between them.

“How about we leave before any more near death situations happen,” she suggested. Both Jimmy and Scott smiled sheepishly, before following Lizzie and Joel out of the cave.

-

The four of them had made it back to Scott’s home, with plenty of daylight to spare for the long journey Jimmy, Lizzie, and Joel had ahead of them to their own empires. Jimmy had told Joel and Lizzie to go on, saying that he would catch up with them in a bit. He wanted to talk to Scott first. About what, he wasn’t entirely certain, but he felt like he couldn’t just up and leave right away without saying something, not after everything that had happened. But for the moment, the two of them were stood in the entryway of Scott’s house a little awkwardly. Scott’s home was bigger than the last time Jimmy had seen it, but part of him was touched to see that he still had the pufferfish- rather the pufferish- mounted above his door. Jimmy wasn’t exactly sure why he had given Scott a misspelled token of peace, but it had just felt… right.

“So… have you changed your mind on alliances at all?” Jimmy asked, settling on teasing Scott a bit instead of tackling any sort of emotional conversation right away. Scott let out a mildly bitter laugh.

“I… will admit that there are advantages to having alliances. And you, Lizzie, and Joel seem alright. I just… well, if I’m being totally honest, I’m not really opposed to alliances… it’s just- it’s like there’s this part of me, maybe something from a past life, that knows that getting tangled up in alliances can lead to war and loss,” Scott said, heartbreak lacing his words. Jimmy frowned in sympathy. He didn’t know what Scott had been through before starting an empire, but it sounded like it was nothing fun. He put a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder- and was instantly greeted with a flurry of images both familiar and unfamiliar. A flower forest. Homes carved into hills. Decaying skin and burnt banners. Flowers nestled in teal hair. Being helpless to watch as a loved one- a husband?- was shot down. Darkness, then light again. Then a feeling of home, and a joyful reunion.

Jimmy jerked back from Scott like had been burned. The real world filtered back into view with Scott wide-eyed and surprised as Jimmy was. What- what was that? They felt like memories, or maybe a dream. And the person with teal hair, the husband?! That was undeniably Scott, just far less regal and with rounded ears, not pointed ones. Jimmy wasn’t sure what that was, but suddenly the fear of losing Scott in the mineshaft made a startling amount of sense.

“Did you… see that?” Jimmy asked. Maybe he was hallucinating, did he get bit by a cave spider too? Maybe this was all some weird fever dream.

“I- yeah. I was kind of kidding about the past life thing… but was that even us? Or just… I dunno, a version of us from an alternate reality?” Scott pondered, looking like his brain was going a mile a minute. Jimmy found himself looking at the pufferish of peace. Was that something significant in that… other life? Or was that truly something of his own volition?

“Must be some sort of alternate reality, I think we were married,” Jimmy said with a laugh. Scott laughed as well, shaking his head.

“Yeah, can you imagine? Why would I marry some swamp boy?” Scott teased.

“And why would I marry a stuffy elf ruler?” Jimmy teased right back. The two of them laughed, but there was regret and maybe a smidge of longing tinged in both of their voices.

“I think I could at least stand being allied with some swamp boy,” Scott said softly, after a moment of silence. Jimmy smiled.

“Allies it is then,” Jimmy said, holding out his hand. Scott gingerly took it, and when there weren't any flashes of alternate or past lives, he shook it firmly.

“Allies,” Scott said, squeezing Jimmy’s hand before letting go. Jimmy bid him goodbye, exiting his home to meet up with Lizzie and Joel. And maybe, just maybe, Jimmy allowed himself to treasure the little flutter his heart made when Scott had squeezed his hand. He was sure his past- or alternate, who knows- self would appreciate it.

-

MCYT Tag List (ask to be added/removed!): @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

[sunjaesol]

and in the haze you see colours

juke | human soulmate au | title: 5 am // amber run

The first colour she ever saw was purple.

When someone was born, they got to see one colour. To each it was different and often a reflection of one's aura. Julie's aura was purple and, naturally, it was the colour she could see. Which was unfortunate, as there weren't many purple things in life - not naturally, at least.

And so, her entire bedroom was purple. Purple walls and purple sheets and purple stationary. The rest were varying shades of grey. Often times, she asked her parents why some were lighter than others, and they told her about green and blue and red. It sounded like a fairy tale. Red was warm, apparently, and blue was flexible and green was fresh. Despite their best attempts, she couldn't visualise it.

It didn't matter. Once she met her soulmate, she would see all the colours imaginable.

Befriending Flynn was easy. The girl had purple ribbons in her hair and that instantly attracted Julie. Vice versa, Julie's orange dress was a plus for Flynn. Through their deep bond, oranges slowly infused itself in her cornea. Orange, like a child's laughter.

With Carrie came pink. Pink, like the fiery moves of a dancer. It was close to purple, so it wasn't a huge shock to see a bouquet of roses suddenly come alive with colour.

In retrospect, gaining orange and pink wasn't that amazing. Not when she lost her mother while doing so. Placing pink dahlias on her grave was just another punch in the gut.

Years passed and people around her found their soulmates. In freshmen year, so many students gasped and fainted as they crossed eyes with their One. She went to parties and someone would start randomly kissing the other. She went to open mics and watched as her soprano voice accompanied two people finding love. It was as beautiful as it was tragic.

Julie was seventeen and she still hadn't found her soulmate. Statistically, most had by now. Had she not gone to The Orpheum that night, she might’ve waited even longer.

Flynn urged her to go to this new and upcoming band, Sunset Curve, as their sound was someone she’d vibe with. Julie wasn’t really feeling it, drowning in homework and song ideas, but her friend was persistent. They needed a breather from everything and a concert was the perfect remedy. After a quick Google search, she realised they were her age. Curiosity swelled in her chest, wondering how they moved up from open mics or school assemblies to the iconic stage of The Orpheum. The only thing she could note about the band was the drummer’s pink hoodie. That was it.

The venue was packed when they arrived. Boisterous chatter, antsy for the band to come on stage and fill the spaces between the instruments. Glasses chiming of sodas and beers being filled and passed around, the soft hum of pop music blaring from a speaker. Most of the crowd were kids from neighbouring schools and all dressed more alternatively. Though she didn’t see most colours, it was clear as day the band tees were vintage and the trousers were ripped or checkered or both.

She shot Flynn a look. “Are you sure this is our thing?”

“Yes!” Propelling them to the front of the stage and consequently shouldering kids in the ribs, she added: “Their biggest hit is, like, insane. And you’ve been in a funk all week, so you need some insanity. To like, counteract it. I don’t know.”

Julie withheld a pout. She’s been ‘in a funk’, because while she was at Eats & Beats grabbing a coffee, two strangers fawned at the sight of each other. RIght in front of her nose, another couple found. It normally didn’t affect her that much, but it did this time. The girl was sick of hearing about romantical love instead of experiencing it herself. Sure, she had Flynn and Carrie and her family, but…

But she wanted that. She wanted more. And with each ticking hour, it felt less and less viable. Where was the One for her?  

The lights dimmed and the pop music stopped, smoke drifting across the stage as the audience began hollering and whistling. Egging the band to get on and give a performance worth watching. The hyped-up teens pushed everyone to the front, now Julie and Flynn forced to crane their necks to watch.

The drummer came on first, all applauding for him as he took his seat and started a drum beat that quickly upped in tempo. It swept them up in an atmosphere, heads bobbing and feeling that rise in anticipation.

Then the bassist came. His dark jacket glittered in the overhead lights, the flannel peaking beneath almost hinting at orange but remaining grey. He added to the beat, bringing in a bassline that had feet bouncing and more people cheering. The mic at the front remained empty, teasing its explosion of lyrics and electricity.

Finally, at the crescendo of sound, the frontman stormed on. He was all charm and smirks and cut-offs and blazing purple shoes. That caught her off guard, eyes dropping to the ultraviolet sneakers. A shock of colour amidst the grey.

His raspy voice belted out lyrics, a grin pulling on Julie’s face at the musicality. Grabbing Flynn’s hand, they jumped around with the other people. Their music was insane. It was fast and clashing and aggressive and raw.

With her neck in its odd position, she observed the singer for a beat. He was… hot. That was all Julie could think. He was hot. His hair falling perfectly right, big eyes, the smile breaking all lines in his face like a beautiful mosaic. Humming like an undercurrent was a buzz right beneath her ribs. Snug and warm, which could’ve been the vibrations from the amps, but it felt different. A good different.

They were in their fourth song when it happened. The band was kicking and jumping around, singing about making it big and not looking down, skyrocketing to stardom, when it happened.

The lead singer dropped to his knees and let the guitar riff bleed to the front row. The audience hollered, Julie laughing in delight at the expert playing, when her and the guy’s gazes met.

He yelped, music stopping short as he careened over the edge and crashed to the floor. Simultaneously, Julie felt the air knocked out of her lungs, losing balance and falling into Flynn. Her eyes were shrivelling with heat, as if hit with the embers of a campfire. A hammer slammed down on the buzz in her chest, electrifying the feeling till it was nearly unbearable.

Her eyes shot open. And then there was colour.  

The crowd dispersed in fright. Gasps and gawks echoed to the back, curious murmurs carefully watching the guy and the girl come to their senses.

“Flynn,” she exclaimed, grabbing for her friend. “Flynn, I can-”

Except she wasn’t there, joining the rest of the crowd further back. The bassist and drummer were watching on, baffled.

Oh. Her stare drifted to the squirming boy on the floor. Oh.

Luke scrambled upright, instantly coming face to face with Front Row Girl and all the colours he has wished to see forever. His eyes were burning from shock and euphoria, greys and whites bleeding out of his bloodstream.

Her hands grasped for his face, worried, lips forming words he hardly registered but vaguely processed as ‘asking if he was okay.’

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, his gaze racing across her features to wholly take her in.

Warm skin and wide, brown eyes and dark lashes and curled, pink lips and a pointed chin and glossy, long curls dancing against her cheeks and soft hands and red - she was wearing red. His colour. His soulmate.

He laughed. “Hi.”

She matched it, giggling. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he sighed, still in disbelief that she was his soulmate. His soulmate. His soulmate. The One.

Her trembling smile softened, thumbs swiping across his cheekbones. “You have really pretty eyes,” she whispered.

Her own were shining with unshed tears and he felt himself choking up too. Never in a million years did he think he’d meet his soulmate. To him, it had always been music. Sure, it sounded nice, but he knew he shouldn’t be yearning for it. He had his friends - his aura was red and he gained pink from Alex and yellow from Reggie.

But suddenly she was here. She was really here.

“You’re- pretty-” he stumbled, causing her to laugh again.

Yeah, there was no way he’d be able to continue the gig. The Orpheum was a big deal, but meeting your soulmate? Most monumental moment of anyone's life.

There was so much colour now. So much life. There was so much more than just music and red and pink and yellow to enjoy. (Songs swirled in his mind though, exciting him to the bone as his hands slid to grab her own. Winking all coy, like the best was yet to come.)

“Do you wanna talk?” he rushed out after.

She nodded. “Yeah. You- uh- your band-”

Their fingers intertwined, warmth dancing in his heart. “Doesn’t matter,” he chuckled. “Really does not matter right now.”

The light of a camera flash and exhilarated screams of ‘soulmates!’ ripped them from their bubble. The bassist jumped offstage and clapped Luke on the back, whispering at him to go to the alley. Leading her away, there was no sense of doubt in their steps. Luke didn’t know her name, she maybe didn’t know his. None of that mattered. There was colour now.

From the alleyway, they found themselves wandering around the Strip as they talked for ages. Her name was Julie, his was Luke, they were musicians, they were seventeen, their auras were purple and red, he decided he adored her smile the most and she his twinkling eyes.

“I think they’re green,” Julie said, peering into his eyes. She was impossibly close and it sort of took his breath away. “They’re fresh.”

“Fresh?” he grinned.

She didn’t lean back - she didn’t want to, his soul simply enigmatic - and asked him the same question. “What are mine?”

His expression softened, a smile twitching on his lips. They’re beautiful. “Brown, I think,” he said instead. “Not sure though. You wanna figure it out tomorrow?”

Her stride halted, their grasp on each other nearly yanked apart. His brows raised expectantly. It was there - that invisible, innate, sense of understanding. It wasn’t just colour. It was the refusal to look at colour alone, ever again. It was insane for the both of them, how their rushing thoughts slotted all puzzle pieces together without a hitch. It had that satisfying click-click-click sound, like dominoes.

Luke found himself coming back to her, the space between them disappearing till their arms pressed together and there were no forces tugging them together. It was all themselves.

“I have a book about colour,” Julie eventually said. “We can learn them all.”

He smirked. “I can tell you your lips are pink.”

“Yours are too.”

“Yeah?” he teased.  

But then she lifted a finger and pressed against the plump skin. His heart stopped short at the sensation. Before he gave into the instinct to pucker them and kiss it, her hand dropped.

Julie grinned. “And now they’re red.”

When Luke kissed her, hers were red too.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @unsaidjulie​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @pink-flame​ @constantly-singing​ @stydixa​

[hyba]

Hey, Hyba, I hope you're doing well ^^ There's no pressure to reply immediately, it sounds like you've been busy <3

But I was thinking of you and your projects and got curious about something. We've have talked about some of this in bits and pieces before, but each and everyone one of your stories is very different and unique, even the short stories, particularly when compared to each other. They're all so detailed and interesting and exciting. And they all feel very well thought out no matter what genre you are working with.

So, I was wondering where does a wip start for you? Can you walk me through the process from where you get ideas, to how you decide to approach characters, worlds, and the plots; and when you decide that this is something you want to write? Was it the same or different between your different projects? Did any of them have unique challenges that you didn't expect? And have you scrapped any writing projects before, and if you don't mind talking about it, do you know why they stopped working for you and what the decision to discontinue them entailed?

I know that's a lot, so as I said, take your time with getting back to the answer ^^' I was just wondering what the process of someone so versatile in their writing looks like.

Hello hello! ^^ Thanks so much for dropping by my inbox <3 'Tis true, I have been a lot busier (started a new job!) and my new schedule is taking some getting used to. I haven't written - really, really written - in a while. 2 weeks? I'm getting increasingly restless. But now that I've got a keyboard, I'm back in the game.

As for your Qs: I think it really depends on the WIP for me. Some WIPs start from a small snippet, a tiny scene, kind of like how my fantasy series did - the whole warrior-vowing-vengeance scene. Others are just me trying to work with a vibe - a specific atmosphere or feeling that I'm trying to emulate or evoke - and I think that fits better with how Apartment started out, because I was trying to work with that liminal sort of feeling, that eerie emptiness. And sometimes it's just a single line that pops into my head and that I really like, so I write it down and keep turning it around in there until it grows into something more. In rarer cases, it's a continuation or off-shoot of a story I've already written or plotted out, so it's not entirely brainstorming from scratch there.

For Apartment, the obvious issue became plot. I had a vague idea of what I wanted, but I was mainly preoccupied with the vibe of it, the looming suspense, so plot and character was almost secondary to the main goal of the story, which was to create something that dripped with suspense and used absurd events to represent certain realities. It worked out in the end, because it let me go a bit wacky with the plotting and have fun with the magical realism elements. When it comes down to it, the plot is super simple. What fills up the story are snippets - puzzle pieces - that contribute to a growing tense atmosphere of unease. In that sense, it also allowed me to flesh out the characters through the use of that atmosphere and environment. But the story went through a lot of changes from how I imagined it and how it translated onto paper... for example, I used to say that the apartment building came under siege - that was the original idea, but now you can see that it's less coming under siege and more just being attacked.

When do I decide this is a project I want to write? Hm. That's a tough one. I don't think I ever decide I don't want to write something. I'll write what I write for it, whether that's one line or a snippet or a chapter or whatever, and then when I'm not sure what else to do for it I just put it aside. I think I've only every given up on a small number of stories, and those were mostly when I was still experimenting with writing style and genre, figuring out what I wanted to write. The latest of these was that foray into the romance genre, where I realized romance is just not my genre, haha! And I'm pretty sure I still have that story somewhere and have considered turning it into a thriller, so... yep.

As for those I did end up scrapping, it tended to be stuff that I wrote in middle/high school, when I wasn't the writer that I am today. I didn't have the confidence in my skills to continue a story even when my doubt caught up with me - and I certainly didn't have the skills and the knowledge to finish a story even if I wanted to. I would inevitably reach a point where I didn't know what to do - what I now know is called the Muddy Middle by some writers - and I wouldn't know how to move things up from there. So, I'd just give up out of pure frustration.

Another factor was the discovery writing. I discovery wrote my plots. To some degree, I still do. But I know now how to plot in a way that works for me, and I know that different stages of the writing process require that I lean more towards discovery writing or plotting, and that it's not a dichotomy. Unlocking these lessons has helped me work on projects for longer periods of time without feeling defeated or giving up on them. That - and the added lesson that you can literally just put something away and figure out how to fix it later (whenever later is). You don't have to scrap it completely just because you feel a bit cringed out with it. After all, nobody is reading it but you. (Unless someone else is reading it, in which case I understand that struggle, too! XD Thinking particularly of Beast of Ildenwood and Murder in Heliopolis here - I really want to go back and edit them and make them good. Until then, they are what they are.)

How about you, Ren? How do your stories start out? When do you decide you're going to continue writing a story? Did you ever scrap a story, and what were your reasons for it, if you don't mind sharing?

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | EPILOGUE

💖 story masterlist 💖

This is it. This is the happy ending they deserve. Fluff. Fem!Loki, because we don't get enough of Loki's female form. Some musings about relationships in general, I think. Guys, I'm crying as I'm posting this.

note: I've got two posts of outtakes coming out sometime this week. Snippets that didn't fit in the story but that have the needed vibe, y kno? As well as a new story is coming out soon... Be sure to check out my main masterlist and taglist if you like my writing <3

I want to thank all my readers for this amazing journey. I love all of you, really, like- I haven't figured out how to produce serotonin on my own ever since I hit puberty, and you guys, you are an amazing source for it. I appreciate the time and the patience that it took to read this 120k word thing and I hope you found a little something for yourself in my writing. A comfort, maybe, because everyone deserves to be happy. I love you all 3000.

"You suck," I grumbled in Peter's direction. Luckily, the little shit was out of my immediate eyesight and I couldn't just pelt him with the assorted items that were scattered around me; luckily for him - after enduring hours of non-stop rambling from the spider boy, I was ready to bargain with Stephen for the sorcerer to put a temporary mute ban on Pete. His nervousness was becoming contagious.

"And you swallow," Pietro replied with a snicker as I heard him wrestle with Peter's tie over the pathetic noises of whining and grumbling coming from the younger man.

"I'm lady, ladies don't spit," I rolled my eyes into the skies, catching Loki's appreciative snicker. She - and yes, Loki was in her female form for this event - carefully combed and did my hair, something completely out of this world, all puns intended. I supposed she was feeling generous, because her female form generally made Loki even more moody and unapproachable. But in a hot way. I hope she didn't notice me ogling her like some kind of gallery painting. "You're a goddess, I can't believe you're friends with me," I addressed Loki, watching the careful movements of her slender hands in the mirror.

A small smirk and a dusting of pink over her pale cheeks was what I got, but the silence was so, so loud.

"Stop flirting," Wanda remarked from her spot by the window where she was doing Natasha's make-up with surgical precision. "You already have three boyfriends, leave some for us, Jesus," Her tone was playful.

"Oh my God, like you didn't brainfreeze and run into the fucking wall, forehead-first, when you saw Loki walk in," I scoffed as Loki's blush deepened.

My witchy friend grumbled something rude in Sokovian under her breath but refrained from any more comments, choosing to simp in defiant silence. Well, good for her, because I was about a hundred and five percent sure that Loki was as equally as smitten with her. It's just that neither of them knew how to approach the other. What can I say, idiots in love...

And yes, yes, I can say that because it takes one to know one. My own idiots were somewhere on the upper floors - getting ready in their own rooms, pulling out their brand new suits and ties for the annual Stark gala. It was supposed to be a charity fundraiser but as all of us were quite disillusioned, we knew it was nothing but a pissing contest between people with small PP syndrome. Even Tony himself said so.

Which is why I had assembled all the girls and theys in my room for a mission debrief. My own personal pride wouldn't let me be anything but a star, and to be completely honest, I just wanted to show off my family to the world - even if the delicate parts of our relationship were hidden from the general public, it filled me with immense amount of joy to be surrounded by my very own at their absolute best.

As for Pietro and Peter, they arrived not too long after me, Wanda, Natasha and Loki made camp in the biggest room with the most amount of natural light, surrounded by make-up and other assorted tools. Both boys were bickering but it was obvious that some of the older men had gotten on their nerves, forcing the youngsters seek solace with their peers.

"You know, Vanity Fair better be talking about us for at least a week," I grouched as Wanda helped me into my dress before I returned the favour. "The amount of people I had to actually, physically talk to, to get us these fucking gowns, is frankly disgusting."

"Agreed," Loki admired herself in the mirror, smoothing out invisible creases in her gown. "Although I must say, the dressmakers on Midgard are far more patient and open-minded than on Asgard." Truly, Loki had nearly driven the poor lady crazy. But on the upside, Loki looked like a living doll. Pristine, perfect.

"Our whims are their wages," Natasha piped up with a chuckle.

We stepped out into the main room, taking note of the men scattered on the couches, all of them wearing an almost identical expression of being already done with the formal event - which, I didn't blame them. Having gotten used to the informal, communal-living atmosphere, I wasn't overly keen on being surrounded by random rich douchebags either; as it was unavoidable, I was going to be miserable - but at least I was going to be miserable in style.

Predictably, the menfolk froze and hurried to pelt us with compliments as they surveyed our ensemble - all of our dresses had a distinct vibe despite carrying a sense of individuality to each gown. That was my idea, actually, to present the team as a family - both to satisfy my own need for one and to present a good public image for the press. Call it getting good cookie from the public - in advance.

"Stunning, absolutely beautiful," Tony chastely kissed my cheek, leading my by the arm towards the limo, Stephen and Bruce a pace behind us. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"We are," Bruce corrected him mutely. Stephen's smirk was a mile wide. "It'll be hard to keep my hands to myself for four hours but I'll manage," The scientist added, eyes briefly flashing a fluorescent green.

"There are children here," Peter interjected, nervously waving a hand. I gently elbowed Tony, speaking with my eyes rather than words, that Pete was in dire need of emotional support for his first big public event. With a sigh, the engineer relocated to sit next to the spider boy, both of them talking in hushed tones.

"Now, Bruce," I smiled innocently. "Why would I refuse a dance or five to my favourite lab partner in crime?" I winked at him as giggles erupted all around us. "And I'm sure there's a point somewhere about wizards sweeping princesses off their feet," I kept up the banter in hopes that any remaining tension would evaporate before we arrive to the venue.

I, however, couldn't lose all of it for we were absolutely assaulted by the photographers and press as we arrived to the red carpet; it was only sheer luck that me and Wanda didn't stumble ass over heels out of the limo. That luck's name was Loki: her magic delicately helped us to exit the car with grace despite our large gowns. Mental note to buy Loki all the chocolate: add to priority list.

It went about as good as it could. Peter was introduced as a trainee - and nearly had an aneurysm when Tony none-too-kindly corrected the host, calling Peter his protégée and successor. As for little old me? Rising star of biochemical engineering. No titles, no direct titles, but it was heavily implied we were involved.

I could fell the old, white rich men leering at me despite the layers of silk and tulle. Nobody was commenting on my champagne intake so I downed one after the other until I had a comfortable buzz going on. I could absolutely see why female scientists became either reclusive or brash.

Bruce's eyes followed me wherever I went. I had encountered some people I vaguely knew from all the socialite events I had to attend with my mother, so it wasn't as if I was a fish out of the water; it's just that every time I strayed further than ten feet from out group, I instantly grew a tail in the form of one of the Avengers.

"Sam, quit being creepy," I exited the ladies room, immediately spying the handsome man just 'casually' hanging out by a potted plant, glued to his smartphone and pretending to be very busy.

He looked up guiltily, shutting down Minesweeper and pocketing the phone. "Not taking any risks this time 'round, Princess," He offered me his arm, leading us back to our table. "Tony would have my head."

I rolled my eyes, falling into the chair next to Stephen. "My tracker implant is still in and the bracelets Natasha loaned me are actually tasers. Bird, chill," My hand snuck under the tablecloth, blindly groping for Stephen's hand. It didn't take much time for him to respond, cradling my smaller palm in his larger one, offering the small comfort with a tiny tilt to his lips. Both my large skirt and the fabric covering the table aided the secrecy; I felt like a middle schooler sneaking a kiss from my first crush behind the bleachers.

Coupled with the bubbles in my champagne, it made me giddy.

"Sam is just being careful, Princess," Stephen rumbled patiently. "This ball will be over soon."

I snorted, "But Stephen, I love balls," Causing the whole table erupt in bashful snickers.

"Yeah, think to me about it," Wanda downed the remnants of her wine glass, eyes wide, looking to the side. The giggling became a full belly-laugh as I didn't have the decency to play coy. I just smirked because, yeah, I did love me some...

The final hour dragged on forever. My feet hurt from the dancing. I had my suspicions that time would pass faster if I actually move around so I didn't waste the chance and cajoled Bruce into several slow dances with me. The energy between us was electric; I hoped my wife eyes and the red crawling up his neck would be attributed to alcohol. We spoke in hushed tones, about nothing in particular, the words being like sticks we threw into our fire.

Tony wasn't around much, way too busy to do much more than stop by our table every now and then. I both envied and admired him; he handled everything with grace and serendipity. Tony was right there next to Thor and Loki - literal royalty - and I had to pinch myself to prevent myself from ogling him, sighing in lovesickness every goddamn minute.

"If you ever stop looking at him like that, I don't think he'll survive," Stephen's tone was cheeky; his eyes were intense as he looked down at me as we danced. My sorcerer was rarely sappy, but when he found the words to describe his feelings... It was serious.

I met his eyes slowly, letting him soak in the very same admiration and awe I felt when I was with him. I felt his shudder, I heard the hitch in his breath. He wasn't jealous, no, he simply observed. I wanted him to see what I saw. "The day that I stop looking at you all like that is the day that I need to get my head screwed on straight." I wasn't a poet but neither was this a romance novel. "As far as I'm concerned, I won the lottery, the grand prize and the fucking life."

He chuckled. "You have way too much faith in us, Princess," Twirling me as to avoid the out of habit embrace.

Did I, though? I was inclined to disagree. Sure, we had our spits and arguments and sometimes Stephen would stick his cold ass feet under my blankets, Bruce's love for curry was a crime against anyone who slept in the same room as he and Tony routinely flirted with everyone and everything that had a pulse. I had days where my mother's temper surfaced.

Sometimes, one of us would inadvertently hog the other person and the remaining two would pout, roll their eyes or pitch a fit.

I just didn't see it as a big deal. All of those parts were normal - what couldn't be said about the rest of our situation. Compared to couples I've seen around, I thought we're happy. My boyfriends seemed to be happy, too, and if they weren't, it usually was pretty obvious.

So - okay, perhaps we definitely should be working on verbalizing our feelings. That would definitely solve if not world hunger, then at least the world war three that occasionally erupted in Tony's penthouse. And the ups and downs - not the steep kind, but ones not too different from waves rolling ashore - was what held us together. Because, well, our world was hectic and fast-paced and sometimes we needed that gentle rocking motion to sway us back to peace.

Tony's arm on my waist pulled me back to reality, steering me towards the balcony. Bruce and Stephen followed, all four of us power-walking through the inebriated crowd.

"Just so you know, I'm on board with whatever crazy shit you're planning," Stephen raised a palm towards a smirking Tony.

His mouth immediately dropped into a pout I could barely resist kissing. "But... I had a whole speech prepared," The engineer retorted indignantly, discreetly attempting to swat the sorcerer on the ass.

"And I'm sure it was amazing, honey," Bruce placated the upset Tony with a laugh, causing the latter to intensify his pout, eyeing us with mirth over the rim of his glasses, his stupid, lovely face more kissable than ever.

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins

[writesowhatnext]

crush: a noun and a verb // fred weasley

Summary: The reader works at The Three Broomsticks and has a bit of a crush on Fred. Well, more than a bit. Worse still, he knows it and he is one cocky bastard.

Request: Hi I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn, but if you are, then I have an idea for a Fred Weasley x reader where the reader works at the three broomsticks and has a crush on Fred. He knows this already and purposely goes there (sometimes with George and Lee) to tease and annoy her. Ty, I love your writings x

A/N: this was such a cute request

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: swearing :) and also idk playful hitting I guess? The word abuse + bit of a steamy make out (not too steamy)

Fred Weasley was a menace to society, The Three Broomsticks, and, on a personal note, your entire existence.

You remembered the first time you met him all too well. You were behind the bar, somewhat overprepared for the influx of Hogwarts students you’d been warned about when two boys in robes sauntered in. They were obviously twins, handsome too and around your age with red hair and freckled skin and a distinct air of trouble. They laughed to each other as they walked over; one of them leaning on the bar to get your attention. What you didn’t realise until you got closer to the boy at the bar was how tall he was, or how lovely his dark eyes were.

“You alright there?” he asked, a charming smile on his face. You could feel your face heat up and whether he could see it or not, something about your bashful side-eye or immediate swallow to dislodge the lump in your throat gave away how nervous you were.

“What? Fine, yeah. Yes. You?” you blurted out. His eyebrows rose in amused surprise and you had to blink a few times before you remembered what you were being paid for. “Sorry, what can I get you today?”

His grin only widened when he saw how flustered you were, clearly enjoying that it was all because of him.

That was only the start of Fred’s monopoly on your attention. The second time he came into the pub, it was a sunny day and most students had gone elsewhere – the cosy atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks not a big seller in the sunshine. Not Fred and George though, they didn’t seem to care.

When they walked in, you couldn’t help but consider how attractive they were. Even after meeting them only once, though, you could tell them apart. You could tell which one had gotten you flustered at the bar and as you sat by the kitchens, ready for table service, it was hard to deny how attracted you were to him. Something about his confidence and the easy way he leant across the bar and the way he’d looked at you stirred something inside of you and whilst it wasn’t unpleasant, per se, you did not enjoy having a crush. You sighed, dropping your head into your hands and groaning in frustration. You had to curse yourself really: you get a new job and the first thing you do is go weak at the knees for a boy? Shameful, you thought.

“Y/N,” your boss said, handing you a plate of chips through the kitchen window. “I don’t pay you to sit there and think about how hard it is to be a teenager. Table twelve.”

Your expression turned dry at his words, but you didn’t say anything, only rolling your eyes when he couldn’t see as you picked up the plate and headed over to table twelve: a table crowded by two red-headed gentlemen with matching coats, butterbeer pints and, well, faces.

“Chips?”

You stood next to them; acutely aware of their eyes on you. The one that you’d spoken to before stared at you for a moment before a spark of recognition lit up his eyes and a smile lifted his features.

“That’s us,” they both said at the same time, moving their pint glasses out of the way. You placed the plate down gently, very much eager to leave without making a fool out of yourself by doing something stupid like throwing chips everywhere.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?”

Somehow, hearing him speak the second time only worsened your reaction. Your face felt like it was on fire and as you opened your mouth, every single word you’d ever known died on your tongue. You nodded. He noticed your stiff jaw and your avoidance of eye contact and he wet his lips, smirking.

“Well, we’re regulars so I think we better introduce ourselves; don’t you?” he stuck his hand out and for a moment, you just stared at his outstretched palm and debated whether it was good for you financially to leg it out of the pub. “I’m Fred.”

With a gulp, you wiped your palm quickly on your apron, hoping he didn’t notice, before you shakily grabbed his hand. His smile widened and you tried not to concentrate on it too much, already far too aware of his warm fingers surrounding yours. When he let go, the colder air of the pub was nice. It would be a lie, though, to say you didn’t miss the contact.

“And I’m George,” his brother said, folding his arms and looking at you with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin, a very different vibe to his brother. He made no movement to shake your hand and you were grateful. Given how completely nervous you were, you were sure it would’ve clammed up again instantly, had he offered.

“Y/N,” you nodded, smiling a little. Your nervous stuttering and sweating were starting to get on your nerves and you were keen to get a grip.

“You look a bit nervous there, Y/N,” Fred said, feigning mock concern. “Are you alright?”

In that second, you’d never been simultaneously more pissed off and attracted to someone. That cheeky bugger, you thought, teasing you for your crush on him. Annoyingly, his brashness only worked in his favour as you found yourself all the more attracted to him for it.

“Of course,” you tried to keep your voice level. You were failing if George’s amused smile was anything to go by. “Nothing to be nervous about, is there?”

You pursed your lips slightly, focusing on Fred for a fraction too long. If you’d looked any longer, though, you would’ve seen interest flicker in his eyes.

“If you’ll excuse me, gents, I’ve got to get back to work.”

As soon as you began to walk back to the kitchen, Fred whipped his head around to watch you with ardent curiosity. When he turned back, George was sending him a very deadpan, very knowing look.

After that, Fred came in every single weekend. Mostly, he came with George, but occasionally he would come alone. Sometimes he brought others with him. Many times, he bustled into the pub with a whole gang of students; one you recognised as Harry Potter, the boy from the papers. One very chilly day in December was no different. The pub was full of students trying to get in from the cold and Fred, one of them, as full of energy, as usual, steered a younger girl to the bar by her shoulders. She was much shorter than him but she had the same red hair and freckles. She was a great deal prettier too, mind you.

“Hello, my dear, dear Y/N,” he said, leaning on the bar as you cleaned a pint glass with a rag.

“Fred, what a pleasure.”

Your tone may have been sarcastic but you couldn’t hide the fondness that leaked through. It had been so long and yet you still couldn’t shake your crush. Of course, it didn’t help, though, that Fred never let you forget it.

“Y/N, this is my sister, Ginny,” Fred pointed at the girl vaguely, barely taking his eyes off of you as his elbows settled on the sticky wood beneath them. “Ginny, this is Y/N – the most beautiful barkeep in the world.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, used to his teasing. He always did this. He always complimented you to try to get a rise and, despite yourself, you couldn’t help your reaction to him. He thrived off your awkwardly shy expressions and shaky movements and your responses to his compliments spurred him on the most.

“I’m so sorry he’s your brother,” you said to Ginny, shooting Fred a dull glance. Her eyebrows, which had been tightly knitted together in a frown, lifted immediately and a smile spread across her lips.

“Me too, don’t worry. You get used to it,” she said. Her voice was surprisingly hardy for such a small girl and you wondered, for a second, what horrors Fred and George had put her through. You both rolled your eyes as Fred mocked hurt and with an awkward but sweet wave, she left the bar, probably in search of her friends.

“How about a free butterbeer for your favourite customer?” Fred asked, smiling cheekily. You bit the inside of your cheek, rolling your eyes again. You played along though, knowing that he enjoyed messing with you and you enjoyed, well, any time you could spend with him. You leant on the opposite side of the bar; eyebrows furrowed as you pretended to look around. You tried to ignore the close proximity between your upper arms.

“I don’t see Hermione Granger anywhere?”

He choked a laugh, unable to contain his toothy grin, obviously pleased at your answer.

“Now that’s just plain cruel.”

“And you deserve it.”

“Here I was, thinking you liked me.”

You narrowed your eyes at his sad puppy dog expression, barely noticing George approach. “And why would I like you?” you replied far too quickly. There was an edge to your voice, but you hoped he didn’t hear it.

“Very defensive. Did you hear that, George?”

“I did indeed, Fred.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Y/N fancied me or something.”

You rolled your eyes, pouring a pint of butterbeer and pushing it over to Fred.

“It’s on the house if you piss off.”

Fred stood up dramatically straight, saluting you and shooting you a wink before walking over to where his sister had disappeared to, somewhere by Harry Potter and an assortment of other faces you recognised. The wink sent your mind into overdrive and with a marginally annoyed huff, you shook your head to try to dispel the heat from your cheeks; you hoped no one noticed it in the warmth of the pub.

“You know he fancies you too, right?” George asked, reminding you he was still there. He leant away from the bar on one of the beams holding the ceiling up.

“Pfft,” you reach for a glass, pouring George a pint. “Yeah, and I’m the seeker for the Holyhead Harpies.”

“Y/N, Fred’s dragged me in here nearly every bloody Hogsmeade trip for the last three years. Do you honestly think he’d do that only for a laugh?”

You shot him a dry look as you placed the pint on the counter.

“Fine, maybe he would. But not for you.”

You watched George fish through his pockets for some coins before offering them to you. You just shook your head, folding his fingers towards him and pushing the money away.

“He really does like you; he’s just a muppet that doesn’t know how to stop taking the piss. Think about it, yeah?”

Your nod as he left was absentminded, and you couldn’t help but stew a little on his words.

It wasn’t until you were ending your shift about a week later that you saw Fred again. He was wearing his Hogwarts uniform when he barrelled through the door and you nearly didn’t recognise him. You couldn’t deny he looked good and even as he stalked towards you, his snow-covered shoes ruining the floor you had just mopped, you had to admire him a little. Something about the rolled-up sleeves of his jumper and the red and gold of his tie was a good look for him and you could barely focus until he stopped right in front of you, almost trampling the mop in your hand.

“You know it’s not just a joke, right?”

It was then that you realised how serious he looked, and – wait, shouldn’t he be wearing a robe?

“Are you not cold?”

“Blood freezing, actually, but let’s not avoid the question, sweetheart.”

Too concerned about the weather and his lack of appropriate attire, you didn’t even register his words. You just grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him over to a seat by the fireplace. Without another word, grateful that everyone else had left for the day, you fetched him a blanket, tossing it around his shoulders before sitting down opposite him.

“What are you doing here? Are you even allowed here? Won’t you get in trouble?”

With the blanket huddled around his head, a boyish grin shaped his features and your insides twisted at how cute he looked.

“So, you care if I’m I get into trouble?”

You rolled your eyes, thumping him with the back of your hand. He rubbed his arm but his smile didn’t budge.

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted, an uncharacteristically shy look on his face.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Blimey, is there an echo in here?”

You went to hit him again but he moved away before you could. He tilted his head from side to side as if debating something.

“We were packing to go back home for the holidays and George told me that you think it’s all just a joke.”

“What’s all just a joke?”

You knew you were probably being dim but you didn’t understand what he was talking about in the slightest – you hadn’t expected to see him again until January and whilst that didn’t particularly fill you with joy, you’d made your peace with it.

“Christ, you are being thick today,” he said, barking a laugh. “Us. You think we’re just a joke. Me and you.”

Us? Your stomach turned inside out at the word. You hadn’t realised Fred thought there was a ‘you and him’. When you didn’t say anything, Fred looked down, messing with hte edges of the blanket between his fingers.

“And I couldn’t have you thinking that could I? So, I came down here-“

“Without a coat.”

“Without a coat,” he rolled his eyes. “Because I had to make sure you knew.”

“Knew what?”

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and whilst you were partly sure of what he meant, you needed him to say it. Knowing your luck, you’d end up connecting the dots wrong and making a thunderbird out of a bowtruckle.

“That all those jokes and stuff-“ he looked at you then, letting out a humourless laugh. “I fancy you, Y/N, okay. In an actually quite big and honestly quite inconvenient way.  And I realised, thanks to George actually, that you didn’t know that.”

You didn’t speak for a moment, mouth dropping open.

“You what?”

Your voice was much louder and much more incredulous than you’d intended. “You’ve been teasing me for bloody years and what? You actually feel the same?”

“Well,” he said with a small grin. “I wouldn’t say the same, you do have very strong-“

You moved to hit him with the back of your hand again when he caught your wrist and pulled you toward him. The blanket shrugged off his back as you were pulled over him, your faces dangerously close together.

“That’s practically domestic abuse.”

You could feel his breath on your lips.

“You know,” he wet his lips slowly, eyes flicking down to yours. “I’m quite glad I came,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand as you hovered over him. “Means I get to do this.”

His hand moved from behind your ear to your cheek and then he was kissing you. You would’ve been embarrassed at how loudly you sighed into his mouth had he not smiled, his hand abandoning your wrist to grab your waist, pulling you toward him so you were straddling his lap. Then his hands were everywhere, skimming up and down from your waist to your back to your hips; you could barely keep track as he stole your breath. The warmth of it all was perfect. His tongue lapped at your lips and your hands disappeared into his hair, pulling him closer. Against all that’s sane and good in the world, you both pulled away, breathing heavily. His hands settled on your waist as he stared up at you, eyes blown wide.

“Careful now,” he said, a smirk lifting the corner of his swollen lips. “Carry on like that, and I might think you fancy me or something.”

“You’re so fucking lucky I like you.”

And then you kissed him again.