#this is somehow the wildest but also the most on brand thing to happen to me cus. of course

[sadpeopledancing]

x

[astrovian]

So I was curious about the picture of the Geneva book with a blurb from AJ Finn, which is so prominent in that cover? I had never heard of him and like why wouldn’t they go with the blurb from Coben? Which led me to reading THE WILDEST story about Finn in the New Yorker. And Finn and RA follow each other on insta and now I’m very confused/intrigued. I don’t think they share a publisher (although who owns what imprints is very confusing to me) so why did Finn give the blurb? Do they know each other ? Does RA know Finn is (a con artist of sorts?) Anyway just needed to share this with someone lol

answer under the cut because, frankly, I always write answers that are way too long

(if you make it to the end - well done, and you also have my condolences on reading a bunch of rambling nonsense)

I presume you're referencing this article? I won't lie, I didn't read all of it because it's quite long & you get enough of an overview of his character/what they're talking about by the time you're a third of the way through

but like... yikes my friend

also, I assume you're talking about the paperback cover?

the thing to keep in mind with this white UK paperback cover is that it may not be the final copy but an early draft that was put together for the press event - the person who attended Faber & Faber's publishing event & took the photo admitted on Twitter that as far as they knew, it is probably an early proof (and therefore not the final design)

so that screams to me that they just needed a quick temporary cover for the event done up, and slapped a long quote on to fill up space, regardless of the source

that being said, perhaps it is the final cover - no one knows for sure at this stage, and I certainly won't pretend like I know anything about publishing or the publishing world

both hardcovers (US version on the left, UK version on the right) feature Coben instead of A.J. Finn which, as you say, makes a lot more sense

in regards to never hearing about him beforehand & therefore why did they make that choice over Coben: In all fairness, I hadn't heard of him either BUT I have heard the name of his book before in passing, The Woman in the Window. So even though it doesn't seem like he has a great personal reputation, his book is well-enough known in the genre so it's not a huge surprise to me he would have a quote there

idk maybe Faber & Faber thought he might have more name/brand recognition in the UK than Coben (who, from my understanding, is very US-centric in basically all his works)

I'd also say that most readers don't really follow the personal lives of writers as intensely as we do with other categories of celebrity - only if the writer is very openly just an extraordinarily shitty person to others online (*cough*J.K.Rowling*cough*). so it kinda sounds like Finn has a reputation within his industry... but I doubt that translates to most readers/the general public (e.g. the target audience of the quote)

it is, I do have to say (despite his questionable personal life), a good 'entice the person into picking up the book' quote though - much more attention-grabbing to a passer-by than Coben's "Outstanding" on the hardcovers

re: why Finn would have been passed the manuscript... idk either. though tbh I always kinda assume all companies are inter-related somehow - kinda like how there are basically a tiny handful of mega corporations who own most other companies in the world

yikes.

I obviously know nothing about the publishing industry, but I do vaguely recall reading that there was a lawsuit in the US in recent years trying to prevent this sort of monopoly happening in the publishing world (and failing)

tbh even if they aren't under the same publishing house, my non-publishing-knowledgeable brain assumes that RA's publishers probably just sent the story out to all the prominent publishers with the equivalent of a sticky note on it saying 'reviews by any of your authors in the thriller genre pls'

who knows - there may even be a link between them at Audible. idk, I haven't looked into it at all & I'm sure you could prove me wrong easily, but it's a possibility?

as to them following each other on social media... who knows. I will say, the only real connection between them that I see (in terms of them knowing each other in real life) is that they both live in NYC and/or were possibly introduced in passing at a publishing house/Audible etc.

tbh this is what I assume happened:

Faber & Faber (maybe Audible?) send out the manuscript to all major publishing houses asking for a generic review from a medium-to-well-known thriller author that they can use in the book's press -> Finn is handed it by his publisher, writes a short review, possibly gets paid for this -> RA gets shown said reviews, follows Finn on social media as a result (because hey, he just said something nice about your book, maybe DM him to say thanks?) -> Finn maybe messages him back to say "hey, no problem, congrats on the book" and follows RA back because... why not?

alternatively you could play through a bunch of different scenarios re: how they exactly know each other, but if I had to put money on it, I would assume that the reason they follow each other is exactly the same as in the scenario above no matter how they met/haven't met. RA's extremely polite & reaching out online to say 'thanks for the review' is 100% him

as to RA's knowledge about Finn's poor reputation... my guess is that he doesn't know (but does it really matter that he knows in this context?) and even if he does, if the man wants to publicly throw his weight behind a good review of Geneva... well, he's shitty, sure, but it's not like Finn's an equivalent to JKR

OR who knows - they may be best mates going back decades. no way to tell for sure.

but tbh I don't think it really matters... I doubt they know each other except on a purely passing-ships-in-the-night-purely-profressional basis

[robininthelabyrinth]

Beautifully Spent

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

- Chapter 3 -

“No classes for the remainder of the day today,” the teacher said, and everyone, most of them already long ago having started to drift off in the hazy afternoon, sending longing looks towards the windows, turned to look at him, surprised. Even Lan Wangji couldn’t help himself – not that he’d been looking away, of course.

(He’d been not-looking at Wei Wuxian.)

Their teacher smiled indulgently. “A special treat for today, in anticipation of the special treat you will all be receiving tomorrow.”

“A treat?” Nie Huaisang asked, sitting up straighter. “What treat?”

“The sect leader’s brother has returned for a visit –”

“Teacher Lan?” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, looking irrepressibly excited, and abruptly the entire room burst out into a flurry of speech. It was only that they had all met him or heard of him, in his years of wandering through the cultivation world – the teacher of whom it was said that he could teach anyone, turn even the most dissolute waste into a proper and upright gentleman, deserving of respect. It seemed as if everyone had an anecdote to share: some visit they’d heard of, some trick or talent, an opportunity to hear him play…

Lan Wangji maintained his composure through an effort of will. No matter how much he might want to leap to his feet and rush out the door, going to find his uncle at once, there would be no point: his uncle was a stickler for decorum, and he would first pay his respects to his brother, Lan Wangji’s father, and then to the memorial hall. Only in the evening would Lan Wangji have a chance to see him and speak to him, and even then there would be a limited amount of time before they all had to go to bed…

Lan Wangji found himself rising to his feet despite himself.

“Hey, hey, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, bouncing over to him and grabbing at him, tugging on his sleeves as if to get his attention. His hands felt hot as a brand, and Lan Wangji could only be relieved at the protective layers of clothing that separated them. He felt his ears go a bit hot regardless, undoubtedly affected by Wei Wuxian’s unnecessary spreading of warmth. “Teacher Lan, he’s your uncle, right? You must have met him lots of times – you must have the best stories – tell us some!”

Lan Wangji leveled his best glare at him. It was a good glare, one that the junior disciples found quite frightening and made guest disciples avoid him.

Well. Most guest disciples.

“Noisy,” he said, disapproving, but Wei Wuxian was undeterred.

“Teacher Lan says that I learn best through action,” he boasted. “Quiet contemplation is wasted on those with too much energy; it’s necessary to excise the energy first, and to channel it, and so for people like me, it’s best to confront things directly, to see things with my own eyes and confront me with puzzles to challenge me!”

That seemed like a remedy his uncle would have prescribed. Lan Wangji could imagine the slightly-amused, mostly-long-suffering his uncle’s eyes would have had when he had recited it, undoubtedly in the same monotone he always used which for some reason seemed to irritate other adults so much.

“It was amazing!” Wei Wuxian continued. “I got to go on night-hunts two years early, thanks to him!”

“He also said that you needed to be smacked on a regular basis lest you get too full of yourself,” Jiang Cheng interjected, and that also sounded very much like something Lan Wangji’s uncle might have said. “Also, remember when you called him a boring old stick in the mud?”

“Argh, Jiang Cheng! Don’t mention that, you’ll embarrass me in front of Lan Zhan –”

Lan Wangji belatedly realized that Wei Wuxian was still holding his arm and felt his ears go from slightly hot to very hot, feeling somewhat attacked even though he knew it wasn’t something Wei Wuxian was intentionally or maliciously doing towards him. He shook Wei Wuxian off and slipped out the door.

He had to talk to his uncle right away.

His uncle, he thought, would know how to fix his current malady: the one where he thought about Wei Wuxian all the time, whether during the day or at night. The way his temperature rose, his heartbeat accelerated, how he couldn’t control his emotions or maintain his discipline the way he should…

His uncle would fix everything.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it. He’d gone wandering through the world long ago, well before Lan Wangji was born – before Lan Xichen was born, even before their father ever met their mother. He’d been barely older than Lan Wangji was now, in fact; it had been far earlier than it should have been, in the normal course of things. There had been some dispute, though whether it was with Lan Wangji’s father or grandfather remained unknown; indeed, Lan Wangji didn’t know anything about it at all, only that his uncle had left without looking back.

He’d first been a traveling musician, but eventually he had developed a reputation as a teacher. It was said that at some point when he was staying as a guest in some small sect or another, he’d run into some disastrous good-for-nothing of a person, useless and bitter with it, and somehow managed to figure out how to help them cultivate properly – or was the first one he’d helped a beastly hellion who wouldn’t learn anything, and he’d taught them both their letters and how to study, turning them into a scholar?

It didn’t really matter which had come first. In the end, he’d gotten a reputation for himself as a valuable teacher in the same vein as some legendary marvel of an itinerant doctor, the sort that could only be hoped for but not invited, and a bit of an adventurer besides – it was said that he’d saved Lao Nie’s life through some unspecified circumstance, averted Cangse Sanren’s doomed fate through happenstance, helped repair Jiang Fengmian’s broken marriage, and was even rumored to have had a brief personal liaison with the terrifying Sect Leader Wen…

Not that Lan Wangji listened to such things, of course. Talking behind other people’s backs is forbidden…although naturally, as the head of the discipline hall, he had more reason than most to need to know about all the wildest things people were saying.

At any rate, it was all beside the point. Lan Wangji’s uncle had gone out, made a reputation for himself, and then, just when he might have been tempted away for good somewhere else, had come home and won back his place in the Lan sect from his brother. Indeed, Lan Wangji’s father had reason to thank him more than most – it had been upon hearing what had happened with Lan Wangji’s mother, all those years ago when his parents had first gotten married, that Lan Wangji’s uncle had returned. Perhaps it was his years out on the road that had given him the strength and boldness to reject the solution the elders had devised, to castigate them all viciously and demand a better result – it wasn’t really clear.

What was clear, though, was that no one knew the Lan sect rules better than Uncle Qiren, and he’d developed a temper at some point during his travels outside; he’d attacked the whole arrangement from start to end, insisting that they come up with some other way to balance love and justice, protection of the person and protection of the sect’s face. Lan Wangji’s mother to this day swore that if she’d actually been locked up in a little house for the rest of her life, she’d have been long ago died of sheer boredom.  

Of course, now that she was a little older, she tended to stay at her Gentian House most of the day regardless, disdaining the outdoors. But her home there was a place with windows open and people coming and going at all hours – it was a place of joy and happiness, laughter and light. Lan Wangji’s father tended to go there when he was starting to revert back to how he’d been before, those not-so-good days when Lan Wangji was young, and he always vastly improved after getting a tongue-lashing or two.

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure how many of the stories about his uncle were true and how many were rampant exaggeration – his uncle claimed the latter, but his mother insisted on the former, and his father, who rarely spoke without careful contemplation, eventually opined that it was somewhere in the middle.

In fairness, Lan Wangji didn’t much care, either. He had long ago taken his uncle as his role model, trying to fashion himself to be just like him whether in righteousness or rule-abidingness or even in musical talent. He was sure, deep in the depths of his soul, that his uncle could solve just about anything he put his mind to.

And yet he was sure, sure, that his uncle could never have encountered a problem like Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Wuxian?” his uncle said, blinking and rubbing his eyes – he’d stepped out of the memorial hall just now as a result of Lan Wangji’s urgency. “Oh, yes. I remember him. Bright boy. I thought you’d like him.”

Lan Wangji shook his head resolutely. How could he like someone like that?

Someone who made him feel…the way he did?

“Explain further.”

Lan Wangji did his best.

Irritatingly, about three-quarters of the way into his stumbling description, his uncle began to smile, his eyes curving just a little, and eventually to chuckle quietly.

Lan Wangji stopped, frowning – his uncle rarely smiled, and even more rarely laughed.

“No, no,” his uncle said. “Forgive me. It is a serious matter.”

Lan Wangji knew it!

“I will spend some time carefully observing Wei-gongzi,” his uncle continued, and Lan Wangji frowned again, suddenly anxious. “I promise, I will not let anything escape my gaze.”

Lan Wangji’s anxiety spiked even further: his uncle was quite strict regarding the rules in the Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian had already broken so many – he would undoubtedly be found out, and punished. It was no more than Wei Wuxian deserved, really, and yet – at the same time….

He cleared his throat. “Uncle, are you sure that’s necessary?”

“Oh yes,” his uncle said. “I must make sure he’s acceptable if he’s to be my in-law, isn’t he?”

Lan Wangji stared.

“You’re my beloved nephew,” his uncle said. “Naturally I must make sure that anyone you like is up to standard –”

“Uncle!” Lan Wangji cried out, feeling deeply betrayed. Possibly by himself.

His uncle shook his head. “Forgive me, Wangji. I will stop. But that is the explanation for your symptoms. I have observed similar things many times.”

Lan Wangji sat down, distressed. It hadn’t even occurred to him, although knowing his parents as he did meant that he was very familiar with the notion that love was not necessarily an enjoyable feeling, and perhaps especially not when you were first afflicted by it. “But…what do I do about it?”

His uncle touched his shoulder lightly, offering comfort. “Having emotions is a good thing, Wangji; it connects you to the rest of the world,” he said. “Understanding them, and knowing what action to take, is a matter of experience, for logic is of limited use in interpreting the heart.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “You will help, then?”

“…I will do my best,” his uncle said. “I may need to consult on the matter from those that understand certain aspects of these sorts of things a little better than I. But I promise, you will not have to face it alone.”

Lan Wangji nodded yet again, deeply relieved.

They would figure it out.

They would fix it.

His uncle would help.

[outofsstyles]

WILDEST DREAMS

a/n: soo I’ve been working on this for a little while now and I’m very excited to share it with you al!! This piece is inspired by Taylor Swift’s music video for her song Wildest Dreams. If you’ve never seen the video, or don’t remember it really well, I recommend you watch it *after* reading the story so you don’t get it spoiled! If you’re interested then you can watch it by clicking *right here!!*

Word count:  17.2k                     Rated: M, mature           

You agree to help your friend on her film project and Harry is playing your love interest.

“You’ve been frowning a lot and haven’t said a single word in the past five minutes, what’s wrong?” You looked up to your quiet roommate sitting opposite to where you stood near the kitchen counter. 

A playlist you both had made months ago, meant only for cooking days, as Nia had instructed, played faintly in the background. You hummed along to the melody of a song you didn’t really know the name of, but had listened to it enough to mumble the lyrics, as you focused on cutting banana slices.

Nia was the one who brought up trying out a new fruit smoothie recipe she had found while scrolling around on Pinterest. She was pretty excited after coming home with the groceries, ready to start the process. Which is why seeing her sitting quietly as she glared at her phone was a big sign that something was wrong.

“I think Jordan is about to pull out on us,” she groaned loudly, locking her phone and throwing it on the counter, running her hands on her face, “I can’t believe this is happening a week before filming starts.”

“Oh, that’s not good news” you said, looking back at your friend’s defeated state in front of you as you threw the banana slices into the blender. “What happened?”

“He said he decided to go with his cousin to Ibiza.” Her arms muffled her voice as she lied on top of them, sighing once again, “this is the third one that leaves, I might as well just cancel the entire thing and fail this class.”

You rolled your eyes lightly at her, shaking your head as you listened to her dramatic reactions. Being her friend for as long as you have, you knew how stressed Nia got with a project, specially something she was passionate about. She was always too hard on herself, trying to push everything to be as perfect as possible, which is a good thing when you focused on the ultimate results. But she often tended to over-stress herself, and that’s what makes you worry.

With this one in particular, you could tell how excited she was from the day her teacher assigned it. She came back home and rambled for hours on end about making her first film. Which is why when she begged you to be part of it, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no. 

It was a small production after all, it just being Nia and her partner Evan, whom you have known had gotten close to her in the past months. She assured it would a rather simple concept, with only two characters. The trickiest part being the fact that they would film it out of town, in a camp house that belonged to Nia’s aunt. You had agreed to it to make her happy, and with her promise of buying you chocolate muffins. Most uni students, however, didn’t seem as keen to sacrifice a week of their spring break as you were.

“You’re being dramatic Nia,” you reassured, turning on the blender and cringing at the loud noise that took over the place. “Maybe they just read on the script that they would have to kiss me a couple of times and got too nervous about it,” you tried to humor, raising your voice a bit before turning the processor off. Nia looked back at you with a serious expression, making you scoff, “calm down, grumpy pants, I’m sure Evan knows someone who can do the role, stop worrying.”

“All I do is worry, you know that,” she sighed, standing up to walk towards the cabinets behind you. She selected two matching cups that she had gotten for your birthday, one had Elsa printed on it, and the other Anna. You smiled as she placed them on the counter, knowing you always thought matching friendship objects were silly, but Nia loved it, so you loved it too. She looked vaguely at the blender, letting her shoulder weight down.   “At least we have a banana smoothie.”

“And something else!” You said, jumping on your feet to get to the fridge and retrieved a tupperware. You held it in her direction and smiled, “leftover spaghetti from Joe’s!” you exclaimed, attempting to brighten her mood. She looked back at you, grabbing the container from your hands, as she tried to fight back a smile.

“Yes,  how could I forget the leftover spaghetti?”

**

As the days passed by, the both of you had gotten more stressed out. Nia was still worried about everything related to her film project. With the days passing by and no one to fill the other role on the script, she found herself on a daily cycle of stress breakdowns. 

Just two days after your former cast partner dropped out on the project to spend his week on the busy beaches of Ibiza, she had bought three different boxes of hair dyes. And as you helped her turn her hair into a light shade of pink, she cried about how everything seemed to go wrong in her life.

Meanwhile, you had been struggling to fight your procrastination tendencies and try to finish as much work as possible before spring break. A task that was showing itself to be extremely difficult, considering your mind seemed more focused on binge watching true crime shows on YouTube. 

The blank document stared back at you from your computer screen, as you wished that if you looked at it for long enough, the essay would somehow write itself. Writing a couple of words but soon deleting them and going back to an empty page, you signed. Why was it so difficult to introduce a topic? You took a sip of the hot drink on the sparkly Cinderella mug you had chosen for the day, another one of Nia’s Disney-related possessions. 

You frowned at the blank document, your failure to write a single paragraph still open in front of you. You heard a light knock on your bedroom door, but before you could even say anything, you spotted the already fading pink hair coming into the room. 

Nia walked in jumping excitedly, saying your name in little squeals and almost tripping down as she made her way to sit on your bed in front of you. Breathing out, she looked at you with a big smile and messy hair before blurting out.

“We’ve got you a husband!” you stared back at her, arching your eyebrows. You knew she was referring to the role on the film, but you still laughed off at her choice of phrasing. “Evan got someone, it’s like his old friend or something, said he trusts him not to drop out.”

“Well, fourth time’s a charm, I guess?” you smiled at her. 

“We’re planning a pizza night this Friday, so we can, you know, set the details and all that.” She properly lied down next to you, playing with the strings on the hem of your pajama shorts. “Also so you two can meet each other, of course, you’re going to be married for a week after all.”

“The way you say it seems like we’re actually doing it,”  You laughed, finally closing your computer, and moving down to face her. “We’re just playing characters, Nia.”

“I know, I know… You’re really no fun, aren’t you?” She moved her arm up to support her head and poked you with her free hand as you rolled your eyes at her. “Also, he seems pretty cute, Evan showed me his picture, maybe you two can hit off.”

“I’m sure he is,” you tried not to fall for her attempt on teasing you over someone you don’t even know. Sure, you’ll be playing love interests, but you’ve done this plenty of times before, back on your theatre days. Kissing someone on stage doesn’t mean you have feelings for them in real life, and you knew that pretty well. You sighed, looking down at her, not wanting to engage into this kind of topic.

“Anyway, should we celebrate your new cast member and my inability to write a single sentence about art history?” you changed the subject, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. “We could watch Devil Wears Prada and make caramel popcorn.”

Nia gasped dramatically, “these are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard coming from those pretty lips of yours,”  jumping to her feet as she pulled you to stand with her. She then ran out of the room, screaming back, “I’ll get the blankets and you start with the popcorn!”

It’s been years since you’ve known Nia, but yet the dynamic between the two of you has never really changed. You’ve always considered yourself very lucky for having a friend like her in your life. From the day you met her in your English class, it was like seeing someone you had already known your entire life; it was always that easy to be with her. 

You two became inseparable from day one.

Looking back, it’s crazy for you to realize how well your high school plans with each other had turned out. Most people you know had those friends in school they only really talked to because they saw them five times a week. But as soon as graduation came by they parted their ways and became only good nostalgic memories for one another. With the two of you, everything just worked out. 

You both got into the university you wanted, ready to get matching art degrees. On your second year of college, you moved in together. And halfway through the course, Nia just dropped out to enroll on an eighteen months film school. And that’s when she met Nate. 

You always knew she was destined to be that kind of person who just has one great love in her life. Which was funny considering that anyone who spent over five minutes with her and Nate in the same room could swear they would never work together. They just were those kinds of couples who are the polar opposite of each other. 

Nia was a little social butterfly, who could start a conversation with anyone about anything. She could talk for hours with the old ladies at the grocery store about how the new brands of beans are just not as good as the ones not as well known. Or chat with the yoga moms about a new reality show that had premiered on Netflix. She loved experimenting on new things, trying out new recipes or mix distinct colors together on her clothes.

Nate, on the other hand, just wasn’t much of a talker at all. Since the start of their relationship, he often stops by at your apartment -wearing a different shade of grey every time - but it would be a lot to say that you two have had a conversation for longer than five minutes. He just mostly kept it to himself. 

They balanced each other, which is why they worked so well.

It would be a lie for you to say you didn’t think about having something like that for you. You thought maybe you just weren’t the kind of person to have one meaningful relationship in your life. And that was okay. You’d like to think you’re better off on your own, anyway. But now and then you wondered how it would be to fall asleep in someone’s arms every day.

But you tried your best to keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head. You knew that for the most part love is not really meant to last, Nia was just part of the lucky few.

**

The atmosphere in your shared apartment was cozy, as you waited for Evan and his friend to arrive before you started the pizza hangout, as Nia called it. 

You both had spent the day tidying up the place, trying to decorate it a bit with some fairy lights and nice pillows you found in your room. It had been a long time since you had done any kind of social gathering in your home, and Nia wanted everything to be perfect. She even insisted on making the pizzas herself, which took most part of the afternoon, and a lot of bossing around on her part. 

By the time the food was in the oven and the only thing left to do was wait, her boyfriend joined the two of you. 

She was very talkative and bubbly, as she usually is, getting the wine bottles she selected for the evening and placing them on the counter as she chatted with him. It was nice seeing her back do being her usual self after such a stressful week. 

You got the right amount of glasses, placing them next to the bottles, as you hummed along to the Declan Mckenna’s voice playing in the background. You weren’t really paying attention to Nia’s babbles, catching a word or two as she rambled about some dolphin documentary she had to watch for one of her classes. Pouring out a glass for yourself, you looked over to Nate who had a puzzled look on his face, as he tried to make sense of whatever rant his girlfriend had going on. You took a sip of your wine, and laughed lightly at yourself at the contrast between the two of them, something you had always found very amusing to observe. But before you could go further into your thoughts, the sound of the buzzer took over the small apartment.

“They’re here!” Nia gushed, as she quickly made her way out of the kitchen to get the front door, yelling back at you to get the pizzas out of the oven.

“Yes, ma’am,” you teased after she left, earning a light chuckle from Nate. 

Making your way around the kitchen, you took out kitchen gloves that had figures of little chicks printed on them, giving one last check inside the oven to make sure everything was ready, before opening it and taking out the food. You could hear Nia greeting Evan excitedly in the background, as she rushed him and his friend to come inside. As their voices got closer, you turned your back to the entrance, concentrating on not burning yourself while you placed both pizzas on top of the counter.

“There’s our star!” You heard Evan’s loud voice taking over the kitchen space, making you look over your shoulder and laugh at him. 

You turned around while taking off the gloves, as he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. He wasn’t much taller than you, making him being considered short for a man. But his presence in a room was always so loud and bright that he seem much bigger than he actually is. You pulled back and looked at him, suddenly feeling underdressed in your own home. His entire outfit was bright red, being consisted of a jean jacket and silk pants, his eyes matching with vibrant eyeshadow taking over his whole eyelids.

“It’s very nice to see you again Evan,”  you smiled at him, his hands still holding onto your shoulders as he looked warmly at you. “It’s been too long! You look fabulous!”

“Oh honey, you flatter me too much! It’s why I love coming here,” he scoffed playfully, coming to your side and wrapping one arm over your shoulder as he guided you. “But tonight is not about me, unfortunately. It’s about the two of you.”

As you finally moved your attention to the kitchen entrance, you realized another presence standing there. A man, who you assumed was Evan’s friend, already smirking down at you as both of you approached him. 

You suddenly felt nervous under his stare while you could hear Evan commenting on something you didn’t really pay attention to. You had been taken completely by surprise by the man standing in front of you. Sure, Nia had mentioned to you once or twice that he was good looking, but you were not expecting this. 

It was a weird feeling, being this affected by someone you had just met, but you would have to be blind not to notice. His face was beautiful, a sharp jawline contrasting his soft skin, his fingers poked at his bottom lip as he smirked, you could notice the hint of a dimple forming on his cheek. His hair was short, but still long enough to see the shape of slight curls forming in it, some locks falling charmingly against his forehead. But what hit you the most were his eyes, thanks to the dim lighting you couldn’t really tell if they were a shade of forest green or more of a hazel tone, but you could feel your cheeks warming up from the way he watched you as you got closer.

His shoulders were broad, as he was leaning against the entrance, the hand that wasn’t poking at his lip resting inside the pocket of his brown pair of trousers. He wore a blank white shirt, partly tucked in, underneath a beige cardigan. The sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, making you notice the tattoos hugging the skin of his arms. You felt a curious wish to know how many more you could find under all the layers of clothing..

As you and Evan got closer, he moved from his leaning position to stand tall in front of you. The smile never leaving his lips, and his eyes still watching you closely.

“So, darling, meet Harry,” Evan spoke up, gesturing you towards his friend. “He’s a pest, but I’m sure you’ll get along just fine”

“Way to give a first impression, E,” Harry rolled his eyes at his friend’s teasing, before turning his attention back to you. He moved closer, embracing you into a side hug “S lovely to meet you-”

You quickly cleared your throat, afraid that your voice would give you away, before saying your name. The attempt didn’t really seem to work, as your words came out higher than you had intended. You could feel Nia’s gaze turning to you on the corner of your eye, but tried your best to ignore it. He repeated it, before shooting a smile in your direction, the sound of his deep voice and the way his lips circled around the words making the hairs behind your neck rise.

“Okay! So how about we move this party to the living room?” Nia’s voice broke into the atmosphere. “Everyone can get their wine glasses and make themselves comfortable while y/n and I finish arranging the pizzas.”

She shot you a knowing look, before moving to get the wine bottles and handing them to Nate. Everyone shifted to get their glasses and settle in the other room, leaving you and Nia alone. 

You moved to get the knives and looked at the pizzas standing on the counter in front of you, calculating how you could cut out even slices on each. You could see your friend from the corner of your eye leaning on the counter staring directly at you.

“You know you can’t fool me even for a second, miss,” she teased, you could hear the smirk on her voice.

“I’m not doing anything,” you murmured, still not looking in her direction. She scoffed, elbowing you lightly as she mimicked you, saying your name in a high-pitched voice. You shot her a dirty look before shushing her, afraid the guest in the other room could hear her teasing. “I didn’t sound like that!”

“Oh please! You should have seen how you looked at him!” She rolled her eyes at you, “thought you were gonna drop down on your knees right then and there!”

“Nia!” you screamed in a whisper, your cheeks warming up at her words as you pinched her, making her squeal. You quickly shot a look at the entrance to see if anyone might’ve heard her, but they seemed to be enrolled in their own conversation. “Let’s just get this done quickly before they suspect we’re in here for too long.”

“Okay, cheeky girl,” she bit her lip and moved to get a knife to cut one pizza, but still eyeing you with a slight smile, leaning in one last time, “but I told you he was cute.”

Eventually, the two of you finished sorting out the pizza slices and joined everyone in the living room. Nia then rushed to join her boyfriend on the loveseat, leaving the only spot available for you being between Harry and Evan on the couch. She shot you a teasing smile, but you tried your best to ignore it and focus on finishing the wine glass you had poured for yourself earlier.

“Okay, so I’m going to need everyone to eat the food and tell me how good it is,” Nia pointed out to the center table where the  pieces of pizza laid upon, “I’ve spent the entire afternoon on these babies, so eat up!”

“You know that I’ve helped you with them, right?” you added, squinting your eyes at her, “some credit wouldn’t hurt.”

“You only laid the toppings on the dough so they would look even,” she snapped back pointing a finger at you, “I did all the hard work, so shush it.”

But before anyone could move to get a slice, Evan was already stretching out his arms to stop you from moving. “Wait a second,” he spoke, “I feel like I’ve watched enough seasons of MasterChef to be the first one to judge.”

“I mean, you are the best critic I know,” Nia pointed, leaning in to get a slice and offering to Evan, “but again, I don’t really know any other critics.” She humored as he took the food, making a show of analyzing it.

Everyone waited expectantly as Evan bit into the pizza slice, keeping a straight face that didn’t reveal much of his opinions. Nia leaned in his direction, nervously biting her bottom lip as she waited for his final verdict.

“You have to be honest,” she warned, observing him, “but know that I can get my feelings hurt pretty easily.”

“I don’t mind that,” Evan finally said, straightening his posture as he looked back to Nia’s waiting eyes, “I’ll say that it’s not the best pizza I’ve ever had,” he announced, “but it works.”

“You know what, I take it,” everyone laughed lightly as Nia visibly released a breath she had been holding in, “It’s not a bad review for a first time.”

The hours went by quickly as you eased into a conversation with everyone. It was nights like this you missed the most when the stress of all the accumulative work weighted on your shoulders. Having a more of a cool night to hangout with a few friends, drinking some wine and chatting about whatever topic came to mind.

As time passed, you could tell Nia and Evan got more agitated, probably due to the amount of wine they had consumed without even realizing. They chatted excitingly about Midsommar, their voices raising a bit too loud. But every time you tried to shush them, jokingly reminding of the neighbors next door, they would soon forget about it again.  You watched them babble, giggling when they would get excited on a certain topic and start to trip over a few words. 

You also felt lighter because of the alcohol, not as much as them, but still enough so you could feel your chest warmer and your mind a bit dizzy. You still felt an annoying tingle at the pit of your stomach when you felt Harry’s eyes fixating on you when you spoke, or when your hands brushed as you reached for the bottle at the center table. It was silly, and it made you feel like a teenager being in the presence of an attractive boy for the first time.

When it all quiet down eventually, Nia had dragged Evan to her room so he could give an insight on how she could decorate it. It was something she would do now and then, give her room a big renovation so the change in the space could make her more motivated, or something like that. Sometimes, if she felt inspired enough, she would change around the living area or  even your own room - when you allowed her, of course. 

Nate was still sitting on the loveseat looking like he was about to fall asleep at any moment as he scrolled through his phone. He hadn’t spoken a lot during the night, which wasn’t unusual for him, but he still managed to chat for a bit. 

That left you and Harry alone sitting on the main couch, with one person less it left you enough space to cross your legs, making yourself more comfortable. He was sitting on his side, his back resting on the big pillows by the arm of the couch, his chest turned towards you.

You reached for the wine bottle at the center table, realizing there was just a bit left, enough for a last glass for the two of you. “Wanna help me finish it?”  You turned to him with the bottle in your hand. He had a smile resting on his lips, as he raised his glass toward you so you could pour the liquid into it. You could tell his eyes were a bit cloudy, but you knew none of you had had enough to be drunk.

“Thank you, love,” he said, the raspiness on his voice as he spoke the pet name making the hairs in the back of your neck rise. You poured yourself the rest of the wine left, emptying the bottle as you settled it back where you got it. “Should we make a toast?” 

“Sure,” you replied easily, smiling at him, “what should we toast for?”

He looked away, puckering his lips slightly as he made a puzzled expression, a hand scratching at his chin as if in deep thought. You giggled at his dramatics before he pointed his finger up, his face turning into a big smile. He raised his glass in your direction, as you did the same. “A toast for being husband and wife?”

You chuckled, clinking your glasses together, “that’s fair,” you said, “ ‘s why we’re here after all, isn’t it?” you joked, taking a sip of your drink before settling it down on your lap.

“Sure is,” he mimicked, rising his glass to his lips, a smirk still adorning them as he managed to not break eye contact. He took a small sip before settling his glass back on the table.  He scratched the tip of his nose slightly with the side of his finger, before he relaxed back on the couch. “So” he spoke up, bringing your attention to him, “E told me you’re an actual actress,” he raised his eyebrows at you, “made me a bit nervous, love.”

“That right there is a lie,” you chuckled, biting your lip and shaking your head. “I used to do theatre back in the day, haven’t done any acting for years though.”

“A theatre kid, huh?” He laughed as you rolled your eyes jokingly.

“I’m aware we have a poor reputation, yes,” you said,  “I reckon we deserve it, but we weren’t that bad, I promise.”

He giggled, making your heart skip a beat at the sound. His smile was something you could easily get used to, the way it formed crinkles in his eyes and the dimples deep on his cheeks. You had to stop yourself for staring too much, moving your gaze to the glass on your lap.

“People are too harsh on theatre kids,” he reassured, “I think it seems pretty fun — only time I did it was when I played Elvis when I was about five, I think.” He added, resting his arm against the couch, his hand just a few inches away from your shoulders. “Had the time o’my life though.”

“You got main character though, that’s impressive,” you expressed, raising a hand to poke at his side playfully. “Have you done anything since your big debut as the king?”

“Can’t say I have, no,” he chuckled, “guess this is my big comeback, maybe I’ll get a call from broadway soon.”

“I’m sure you will!” You giggled, taking another sip from the glass in your hand.

You found it easy to dive into a conversation with him. You were both giggly from the wine, but it still seemed like you could stay like this for hours on end,  just talking to each other. 

He told you he wasn’t planning on doing the film, considering he never really thought about acting. But when Evan asked him if he could be part of it, he saw how desperate he was to fill the role, so he agreed. It warmed your heart to hear how fondly he spoke about his friend, telling you how willing he was to help, even if it involved doing something out of his comfort zone.

You two bounded over your mutual wish to become teachers. You found out he was studying Literature, a choice that for him as an easy one, considering throughout his life he had always been an avid reader. He said no matter how harsh thing got, he always found an escape between books, you could tell how passionate he was about it as he spoke about his favorite reads.

Eventually, you could hear voices coming closer from Nia’s room, as they seemed to be gushing about the filming that was starting soon. 

As Evan came into the room, he made his way to the couch, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulders. “Honey, as much as I wish we could stay here ‘til dawn, I’m afraid we must get going.”

With his declaration, everyone moved around to gather the dishes splattered across the center table to put it all at the kitchen counter. After some insisting -mostly on Harry’s part- on helping with cleaning, you convinced them you two could handle the task just fine. And they were the guests, after all.

Finally, you said your goodbyes, pulling Evan on a small hug, assuring him you’d do your best to do his script justice.

And as you came to face Harry, he leaned into a hug, giving you a last kiss on the cheek, before telling you how lovely it had been to meet you.

**

You had woken up with your door opening abruptly, making you jump a bit from the sudden change in the peaceful atmosphere from your deep slumber. Before you could process the situation in hand, Nia was already pulling out the covers and spitting out words at a faster pace than you could comprehend in your mind state.

“Get up already! We are very late,” She urged as you lazily scratched at your eyes before sitting up to look at her. “Evan is going to kill us!” She cried out.

Your head pounded slightly, making you search for your water bottle previously prompted by yourself the night before, knowing you would need it in the morning. You reached for it in your nightstand, taking big gulps as you watched amusingly Nia run around your room picking random clothes and throwing it in a duffel bag you had just noticed.

Resting the bottle down on your lap, you yawned lightly, still in the process of waking up. “Calm down Ni,” you mumbled, “We still have time, we’re only leaving at like, two.”

She looked back at you as if you had just slapped her across the face, your shirt falling partly from her hand. “It’s already one,” she informed, making your eyes bulge as you reached to check on your phone, confirming as it read 1:16pm. “We don’t even have our bags packed AND we got a sink full of dishes to wash.”

The minutes after that were rushed, as you two did your best to get ready as fast as possible. Mentally slapping yourself for leaving everything for the last minute, but still managing to pack your bag in record speed.

But as time passed and the list of things to do was still far from over, Nia phoned Evan and let him know you would need a few more hours to be ready to leave. To say he wasn’t the happiest about the news was an understanding, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

A couple hours later you were finally packed, and after a quick stop to shop for road trip snacks you were off on the road. 

You left much later than planned, and even if it wasn’t that much of a long drive, it was still 3 hours until you got there. The ride itself was mostly quiet, except from Lorde’s Melodrama playing softly in the background. You hummed along to the words, but apart from that there wasn’t a lot of talking between the two of you, all due to the limited amount of sleep you got from the previous night.

As you got closer, the scenery of open grass camps and blooming flowers at the peak of spring was a peaceful change of scene from the busy city streets you were used to. And when you finally got to the house, the sun was almost setting on the horizon. The sky being a satisfying mixture of blue and orange. There was a car already parked in, and as you got closer, you could see two figures sitting on the front stairs. 

Getting out of the car, you quickly made your way to where they stood. “Have you been waiting long?” Nia asked as you got closer to them. 

“Longer than I was planning to, I’ll say that,” Evan replied, taking off his sunglasses to greet you.

Harry came up from behind him, looking incredibly cozy wearing a knitted cream sweater. It took everything in you not to nuzzle on him as he met you with a quick embrace. You had to focus on keeping your breathing steady as you looked up at him when you parted. The sun coming from behind you doing wonders as it hit his face perfectly. His eyes were the prettiest shade of green as he smiled down at you before moving to greet  Nia.

“We’ve been here fo’ ten minutes, don’t listen to him,” he assured with a small laugh.

The house itself was much bigger than you expected, it wasn’t huge, by any means, but you had pictured a small cottage with barely any space for the four of you. The place, however, was big enough for you to have your privacy but still small enough to feel cozy and welcoming. 

You quickly found there were three rooms, and despite you arguing you didn’t mind sharing one with Nia, considering you two lived together, she still insisted that you and Harry had your own bedrooms. It was her way of thanking you for agreeing to help them.

After you got established in your respective room, you met everyone down at the kitchen. The place was loud with chatter as they played around while making dinner. Nia seemed to boss the boys around to cut the vegetables properly, as she concentrated on figuring out how to work the old stove. They laughed lightly as she cussed under her breath in frustration after another failed attempt. You watched quietly for a moment, before joining in to help her.

You finally turned the stove on with the help of a few matches you found laying on the counter, being able to cook with no more trouble. It was already getting late when you finished eating and gathered the dishes to lay them on the sink. Still, Nia insisted on watching one of the movies she had carefully selected on her extended collections of DvDs to bring with her. 

You decided to make yourself some tea while the rest of them moved around to arrange themselves for the movie night. After offering if anyone else wanted a cup as well, you were met with Harry’s warm smile as he accepted shyly.

Soon enough everyone settled down on the big couch to watch the movie. Evan took his place on one of the armchairs, while Harry opted to sit by the end of the couch, setting his legs on the footrest in front of him. As you walked in with your mugs, he gazed up at you, shooting a soft smile and muttering a quick ‘thank you’ as you handed him his drink.

He patted the spot next to him, indicating for you to sit, to which you happily obliged. 

“Wanna share?” he asked, holding up a blanket that lied at the arm of the couch. “There’s jus’ three of ‘em.”

“Sure,” you replied, moving to pull the blanket, so it was covering the two of you. You knew very well you could always get an extra one from one of the bedrooms, but you would never bring yourself to suggest it.

Finally, Nia entered the room with a small pack of m&m’s on one of her hands and the DvD case for ‘Love Actually’ on the other. She was quick to insert it on the player before settling down next to you. Pulling out the leftover blanket for herself, she lied down to rest her head comfortably on top of your legs.

It didn’t take long until she fell in deep slumber, cuddling up on your lap as soft snores left her lips. You pouted slightly down at her. The poor thing was exhausted from driving all the way, and the bad night of sleep the day before.

As the movie progressed, you could feel your eyelids getting heavier as well, the words coming from Keira Knightley’s mouth becoming more of a background noise as you fought to keep yourself awake. But before you could doze off, you felt Harry shifting slightly next to you. Suddenly feeling his arm hugging your shoulders, as he gently pulled you closer.

You moved your head to look at him but before you could say anything he shushed you softly and pulled you back in. “ ‘S fine, love,” he whispered, “can see that you’re tired.”

And with a half-woken mind and heavy eyelids you laid back on his shoulder and allowed yourself to snooze.

You woke up with him shifting again from under you, opening your eyes slowly to find the end credits rolling up the screen in front of you. You yawned lightly before sitting up, being careful not to wake a still-very-much-asleep Nia on your lap.

“Sorry,” you heard Harry say as you scratched at your eyes, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine,” you assured, your voice a bit raspy from your nap, “would have to happen, eventually.” You looked down at the unconscious girl lying on you, knowing you had to get her to bed so she could sleep properly. “We should wake her.”

“Want me to carry her to her room?” he asked.

“I think she’ll be okay,” you replied, gently calling her name so she could slowly wake up.

Surely, it didn’t take a lot of coaxing to get her eyelid to flutter open, as she lazily rose from her sleep.

You helped her to her room, afraid she’d trip down the stair in her hazy state of mind, still half asleep as she dragged her feet across the floor. 

As soon as she laid down in her bed, you made your way back to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water so you could go to sleep. 

It surprised you to find Harry still awake as you entered the space; he looked up at you from his position leaning on the counter with his phone in his hand. Quickly placing it in his back pocket as he saw you coming in, giving you a slight smile. “Thought you’d gone to bed.”

You reached for the cabinet Nia had pointed you to earlier where the cups were placed, picking one with little thought and closing it. “Just came here for a glass of water,” you spoke, moving the cup under the tap, “always have one next to my bed, y’know, in case I get thirsty and stuff.” You shook your head slightly, not wanting to ramble about the benefits of staying hydrated during the night just to make a conversation.

“Smart girl,” he joked, causing you to chuckle as you felt blush creeping out on your cheeks. You could see him coming closer to stand next to you from the corner of your eye, which didn’t help the tingly feeling forming at the pit of your stomach. “Excited fo’ tomorrow?” he asked, crossing his arms on top of the counter as he leaned next to you.

“Guess I am,” you answered, looking up at him and finding he was closer than you had realized. You smiled nervously as you met his eyes gazing down at you, before clearing your throat lightly. “What about you?”

“To be honest ‘m a bit nervous, love,” he confessed.

“Why’s that?” 

“I mean,” he started, his eyes still fixed on you, “ ‘s not every day I get to pretend ‘m married to a pretty girl like you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat as he reached one of his hands to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. He kept his hand on your cheek just as his eyes seemed to gaze down at your lips, so subtly that it felt like you might’ve imagined it. 

The silence in the room was loud as you could almost hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as he leaned down just barely, getting closer to you. He looked down one more time at your lips, this time making sure you realized the unspoken question behind that action. You suddenly felt water pouring through your fingers, as the forgotten cup in your hand overflowed. This caused you to jump back a bit, quickly turning the tap off and resting the glass on the counter. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, reaching out for a towel right next to the sink to dry your hand. “I’m sorry, that was-” you chuckled, glancing at Harry who seemed to watch you with an amused expression. “That was awkward, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” He assured, picking the full glass and moving it in the counter so it was out of your reach. “ ‘t was actually quite cute,” he moved closer to you again, reaching his hand to hold at your jawline. 

You held back your breath as you felt his own hitting the top of your upper lip, your noses brushing slightly. 

“Been wanting to do this fo’ a bit now, love,” he spoke a bit above a whisper, his deep voice sending chills down your spine and making you grab at his sweater, ”would you let me?” his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly, “would you let me kiss you?”

You could feel your heart beating strongly against your rib cages, swallowing hard as you looked up at him. He was watching you closely, his dark emerald irises gazing down at you as your lips barely brushed. You nodded at him, trying to pull him closer.

“Use your words, darling,” he insisted, not budging from his position. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“Please, Harry I-” you moved your hand to grasp on his waist, “just —kiss me.”

Giving a satisfied hum, he finally leaned down, closing the space between the two of you. His hand remained stroking your cheek softly, as the other sneaked under your neck.

He moved his lips ever so slightly, his cupid bow founding its way above your inner lip, sucking on it gently. The kiss was teasingly slow, making you hyper aware of all of your senses. Your hands feeling the soft fabric of his sweater, grabbing at it as if asking for more. 

He moved the hand on your neck, pulling gently at your hair, making you angle your head up a bit. As his tongue poked to lick at your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You stayed like this for a while, pressed against the kitchen wall as you enjoyed the taste of each other. 

When you pulled back, he splattered a few kisses along your cheek, giving one last peck on your mouth before pulling back.

“As much as I don’t want to end this now,” he muttered, moving his hand, so they were both holding your cheeks, “We should get some sleep fo’ tomorrow.” 

“We should,” you agreed.

“We’ll get the chance to do this again,” he said, making you bite down a smile at the innuendo behind his words.

He gave you one last kiss before pulling away completely, reaching for the glass of water you had already forgotten about on the counter and handing it to you. 

You walked back to your rooms without saying a word, but still sharing glances and smiles along the way. And as you got to your respective rooms, you whispered quiet good nights before parting ways and closing the door behind you.

**

The days that followed were rushed, considering the filming had officially started. You two barely had the chance to be alone again, which was disappointing. But still you couldn’t find yourself time to miss the feel of having his soft lips against yours, considering the scenes you had with each other. What you did miss was being able to kiss him without it being written in a piece of paper, or having someone from outside tell you to. You missed the intimacy of feeling his tongue meet your own and having his hands pulling you close as you both craved for more. You missed the shared secret between just the two of you, that was knowing how it felt to have him all to yourself.

It was discomforting, earning for someone you barely even know. Jumping into a feeling you know there’s no way can end well. You both were playing characters. Lovers, yes, but it was all pretend. It didn’t help that he was so good at it. In front of the cameras he would be so loving that you often wondered how much of it was just part of the act. 

It was subtle things that made you think of it, like a glance across the room between takes. Him leaning close to you every time they called you to watch back something you had just recorded. Or when he sucked in your lip during a scene, so softly you could barely notice but still made your heart skip a beat.

But as much as it was nice to pretend that you two had some shared secret, you knew that the most likely scenario was that he was just doing his work and being friendly. So you tried your best to convince yourself that all of it was just your mind playing tricks, this way you could prevent yourself from inevitably getting hurt. That encounter in the kitchen was most likely his way of making things less awkward to when you inevitably would have to do it in front of a camera. That was it, nothing more. 

It seemed to have worked pretty well, you two had the chemistry Evan hoped for when he wrote his script. Nia kept teasing you with every given opportunity. You didn’t tell her about the late night kitchen situation, but you knew she could sense the ‘chemistry’ was not simply because you two were just that good at acting. No one was complaining though, considering everything was going so smoothly they suspected it could be wrapped up even earlier than expected.

Every time they would mention the possibility, you found yourself wishing deep down something would set you back on the schedule. You felt bad for it, and you never voice your inner thoughts, but you knew wrapping up early meant going home early, and you were getting a bit too comfortable getting to act all loved up on camera.

As if some kind of outer force had listened to your wishes, just as you were halfway throughout the week, mother nature seemed to be your biggest ally.

You had just woken up with the annoying tune of your alarm clock, one you had chosen for finding it soothing at first. But you soon found that those sounds are not meant to feel soothing at all, as it woke you from your deep slumber. You were quick to turn it off before rubbing your eyes softly and enjoying the warmth of your bed for a few more minutes. You could hear the gentle sounds of raindrops hitting your window, but barely paid any attention to it as you rose lazily, stretching your arms above your head.

Making your way down the stairs you first noticed Evan standing by the big window in the living room, looking out with a hand resting on his hip and the other one holding a mug. Behind him, in one of the armchairs, sat Harry, also drinking out of a mug as he read a book quietly. But as if he felt your presence as you got to the bottom of the staircase, he looked up, smiling at you as you made your way into the room.

“G’morning,” he spoke, alerting the man by the window of your presence as he turned around to look at you.

“Good morning,” you said back, before realizing the worried expression on Evan’s face, “is everything okay?”

“A disaster just happened, honey, look out the windows!”  he snapped, gesturing behind him where you could see the rain hitting the glass. The sky was dark with clouds, suggesting it was just the beginning of the storm that was to come. You looked back with a puzzled expression, knowing the weather was not the best, but as far as you remembered you had already shot all the scenes you needed outside. Evan rolled his eyes, “our natural light is gone, honey, it’s too dark to shoot!” he barked.

“Hey, no need to yell at her like tha’,” Harry looked back at his friend, attempting to calm him down, “ ‘s fine, we were early on schedule anyway, one day is not gonna delay it.”

He shot a look at Harry, his hand finding its way back on his waist as he let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, this is just incredibly frustrating.”

You smiled at him to assure it was fine, knowing how much stress he was putting on because of this project. “Doesn’t Nia have one of those light things you were using the other day to make the scene brighter?” You suggested.

Evan sighed, “that’s a reflector, it just— well, reflects the light, we would need the sun for it to work, and seems like she’s not showing her face anytime soon,” he weightened his shoulders down, clearly feeling defeated. “I guess today is our off day — we should use it to pray for sunlight tomorrow, otherwise I’m pulling my hair off.”

When Nia woke up, you could tell she was not happy at all with the news that filming had to be cancelled for the time being. She spent the whole breakfast whining and crying about the poor weather. You tried your best to console her, but knowing your friend you knew her dramatics showed off when she worried about something. She tended to overthink every scenario that could go wrong, which did nothing to help the pressure she put on herself.

The day went on as eventless as it possibly could, the rain outside just seeming to get angrier as time passed by. You did your best to distract Nia from her own head, asking her about the recent documentaries she had watched, knowing she could go on tangents for hours. You talked about crime shows you have started before filming and shared different theories you had on them. You even listened to her deep analysis of trashy reality shows she loved to watch and always tried to drag you to get into it.

You talked and talked with no end, considering there wasn’t much else to do. Nia’s aunt hated computers and refused to install any kind of wifi, leaving you with a shitty connection that barely loaded a five-minute video.

As the evening came by, and the raindrops still hit angrily at the windows, you decided to watch another movie — this time it was Evan’s choice of Freaky Friday. 

You volunteered to grab the blankets from the cabinets on the second floor, while Nia excitedly announced she would make popcorn for everyone.

Quickly moving along the hallway, you made your way in front of the doors and opened them. You could hear footsteps coming up the stairs as you tiptoed to  reach the top shelf where the soft blanket you had used the first night lied on top of. 

“Need help?” You heard a voice approach, looking over your shoulder to find Harry walking towards you with an amused expression on his face. You nodded, chuckling as you quickly stepped out of the way to allow him to take your place. He reached up, easily retrieving the blanket and giving it to you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, looking up at him for a moment.

“No problem, darlin’,” he said, fetching two other blankets  before closing one door with a swing of his hip. You closed the other one with a small giggle. You started to quietly move along towards the staircase when he cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him. He kept his gaze down before speaking softly, “After the movie, think I’ll go back to my room a bit early,”  he looked at you for a moment, “ ‘f you want to join me.”

You stopped walking to look at him arching your eyebrows surprised, not expecting this kind of proposal at this moment. He stopped a step ahead of you, staring back with nervous eyes and shooting you a shy smile. “I’m not saying we have to do anything, I just-” he spluttered, “just wanted to be with you, without the camera and stuff.”

You smiled at him, “of course,” you voiced, “sounds nice.”

Shortly, you found yourself in the same position as the first day. Sharing a blanket with Harry, but this time Nia was wide awake next to you with a bucket of popcorn plopped on her lap. Some people would consider her to be the worst kind of person to watch movies with, considering she would always get too excited and comment on every scene she could. You had gotten so used to it with time, that it felt weird watching a movie without her voice interrupting a scene every five minutes.

It got hard to concentrate on this one in particular, and not because of Nia’s speaking over the lines, but the sudden feeling of Harry’s hand resting on your knee halfway through it. Your legs were crossed on top of the couch, making part of it rest slightly on top of his as he eased his thumb over your skin.

As time passed, he moved his hand up a bit, finding its final place on your inner thigh, causing goosebumps to arise on the back of your neck as he caressed it softly. You caught yourself holding your breath multiple times, something he was also probably aware of, considering the position of his arm on the side of your chest. 

The tension between you two was almost palpable as the end credits rolled up. At that point you had prompted yourself to lean your head on his shoulders. He grasped your skin slightly before removing his hand and motioning his position to get up, making you pull back from him.

“‘m going back to my room now,” he announced as he got up, shooting you a knowing look, “g’night.”

You stayed back for a few minutes so as not to look too suspicious, folding up the blanket you had used and scrolling through your phone for a bit. Not long after you excused yourself, climbing the stairs two steps at a time.

You found him in the hallway, leaning in on the wall right next to his door as he looked down on his phone. As he felt your presence he gazed up, grinning softly before bringing his finger above his lips as to warn you to stay quiet.

The two rushed inside his room, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering your friends downstairs could come up at any second. He closed the door behind him, looking right at you as he leaned back. His room was similar to yours, the difference being a few more clothes lying on top of the small couch standing at the corner. The curtains hanging on the big windows were pushed open, allowing the moonlight from the now-clear sky to illuminate the place. 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared back at him, meeting his dark irises. He started stepping closer to you until he could lean his forehead against yours. His hands found their way caressing your jawline, one of them going as far as to pulling lightly on the hair above your neck. You held your breath, gazing up at him as you waited for his next move.

He smiled lazily, brushing his nose against your softly before placing a peck to the corner of your lips. He was teasing you, his hand leaving your hair to find its way down your body, paying special attention to the side of your breast before placing itself holding your waist.

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart speed up as you pulled him closer, wanting desperately to close the space between the two of you. Too scared that your voice would give out your desperation, you moved one of your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him in. He didn’t think twice before finally closing the space and allowing you to feel his lips against yours.

The kiss started slow, both of you still trying to figure it out how it was to taste each other like this. His lips were soft, moving teasingly as he sucked on your bottom lip. Your hand pulled his hair gently, causing him to whine into mouth, licking at your tongue as he deepened the kiss. The hand on your waist moved up, caressing the side of your breast softly as he tried to pull you in as close as possible.

He started easing you backwards, considering neither of you were willing to break the kiss to watch where you were going. You felt the mattress of his bed hitting the back of your knees. You allowed him to lay you into the bed, parting for a moment so you could move upwards, laying your head on the pillows. Shortly enough he joined you, placing his elbows on both sides of your head, not wasting any time before closing the space between your mouths again.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Slowly kissing each other, as your arm found its way back behind his neck and one of his hand caressed your cheek. You could get used to this, with him being the only thing you could sense. His taste. His touch. His scent. 

He was all you could think about.

When you finally pulled back, you could see his red, puffy lips even with the limited amount of lighting going into the room. 

He looked into your eyes for a moment, “you look so pretty like this, darling,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “Could eat you up.” 

A small whimper left your mouth, as he dove back in to spread kissed along your cheek and down your throat. You bit hard into your lip and swallowed back a moan as he sucked in a spot right below your jawline. You could feel him grinding his hips down on your tights, making you aware of the growing bulge inside his sweats.

You placed your hand on his shoulders, pushing him gently and disconnecting him from your neck. He pulled back, looking back at you with a puzzled look. You kept pushing him until his shoulders hit the mattress, reverting the previous position you both were in, as you stranded his waist.

Looking down at him, you wanted so badly to discover his body, to make him feel good. So you took the same position he had on you. Placing your lips against his neck and running your tongue against it, sucking in his skin. You kept doing it as your hand smoothed down his body, finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it enough so you could scratch at his love handles. He gave you a small moan, a sound so delicious to hear you that made you want to swallow him whole. 

Both his hands found their place on your waist, pressing you down so you could feel his need between your tights. You quickly pulled your head from his neck, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“Please, love, just-” he grunted, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Just do something, please, I-“

His hands gripped tightly on your waist as you rolled your hips against him. Neither of you could contain your moans as you repeated the movement, even fully clothed his bulge rubbed deliciously against the place you needed it the most. 

You leaned down again, this time pushing his shirt up as you made your way down his body, splattering open-mouthed kisses along his warm chest. You paid a special mind to the tattoos you met along the way, sucking spots over the wings of a butterfly inked on his stomach. As you licked along the leaves of the ferns that adorned his love handles, you felt one of his hands tangling in your hair, his hips rising slightly as he whimpered.

“A bit impatient, you are,” you spoke, feeling his belly tighten as you placed a playful bite under his belly button, causing another moan to leave his lips.

“Darlin’, please,” he whined, “Just- fuck, just need you right now.”

You decided not to tease him for too long, considering you needed it just as much as he did. Finally, you moved down once more to place a kiss above the hard on over his pants. He lifted his head, watching your every move as his hand that was placed on your hair pushed some strands away from your forehead. You wrapped your hand around the hem of his sweats, rising your eyebrows at him as you felt he wasn’t wearing any underpants. The thought of having such easy access to him making you press your thighs together, feeling your wetness already damping your underwear 

Slowly, you bit your bottom lip, keeping your gaze focused on him as you moved his sweats down, he raised his hips as to help you out. Once his cock was fully out, you stared back down at it lying proudly against his stomach. You ran your fingers gently along his length, causing him to hold his breath, his abdomen tightening once more. He was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with, causing your mouth to water a bit and your thighs to press together once again at the thought of fully having him.

You could feel him peering down at you as you wrapped your hands around the base and applied the smallest amount of pressure. The precum was already escaping from the tip and sliding down the tiniest bit. 

Moving your head forward you looked back at his waiting eyes, spitting on top of the head as you moved your hand up caressing it. This time he gave you an actual moan, throwing his head back at the pillows behind him. 

Looking down at him, you didn’t know where to place your lips first, wanting to bite and lick every part of his body. Finally deciding on sucking a spot on his thigh, right next to where rested an ink of a tiger head.

You kept the movement of your hand, twisting it and applying more pressure eventually as you watched him shift around under you. He raised his hips slightly as he pleaded under his breath for more, his hand firmly on top of your head as the other was thrown above his own.

You moved your thumb to run across his slit, caressing the head with a flick of your wrist as you moved your mouth to place kisses at the base. At this point he became a moaning mess, throwing his arm over his mouth as to muffle the sounds while you licked up his shaft.

“God- fuck- such a good girl,” he moaned on his arm, moving it out of the way so he could look down at you. “Doing so good, you feel so good- shit.”

Smiling at him, you jerked him off a couple of times before resting your hand at the base so you could replace it with your mouth.

You licked around his head, giving it a small kiss before you moved down as far as you could go. He cried out, tightening his grip on your hair and moving his hips up to meet your movements as you sucked on him.

He was desperate to reach his climax, and you were desperate to see him cum undone under your touch. So you started speeding up, your mouth licking at his veins, your hand helping you as you moved it along his dick. He was cursing and moaning over you, pleading for you not to stop. You kept moving your hand as you licked at his head once more before detaching so you could look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Almost there?” you asked, having him nod frantically at you, “will you let me have a taste?”

That seemed to do it for him, as he pushed your head back down, making you attach your lips to his head as you felt him shoot his load inside your mouth. You milked him as he came down from his high, feeling his softness on your lips as you swallowed down.

You sat up and looked down at his hazy eyes while he calmed down with heavy breaths. He adjusted his sweats quickly before moving himself up to pull you in for a frantic kiss. “God, darling, you’re a dream,” he spoke between kisses, his hands gripping at your waist as he positioned you to lie on top of him, moving one of them under your shirt, pulling it up slowly.

You quickly placed your hand on top of his stopping him from going further as you detached from him. He furrowed his brows at you. “I should go back to my room,” you said, “got an early day tomorrow.”

He gave you a puzzled look, “but you still haven’t- “

“it’s okay,” you interrupted, moving to get up from his bed, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Good night!”

You left his room before he could protest, wanting to slap yourself from running away like this. 

**

The next morning was thankfully much brighter than the one before, with sunlight shining through the windows at the earliest hours. You didn’t get a lot of sleep, tossing and turning around, replaying the previous night in your head. The thought of what could’ve happened if you had stayed imprinted itself in your mind. You started to overthink it. What did he even think of you? After running away like that? 

Your thoughts consumed you as you sat in of the stools in the kitchen by yourself, for the first time being the first to be awake. Your coffee running cold by the minute, as you frowned to yourself, taking a sip every so often.

It didn’t take long until you didn’t find yourself alone anymore, having Evan join you as he happily cheered about the nice weather. You nodded along to him, not really in the mood for talking as you anxiously poked at your nails.

It was when you walked towards the sink to wash your used mug that you saw Harry walking into the kitchen. His hair messy and his eyes sleepy, making you annoyed at how charming he managed to look even after just getting out of bed. 

He greeted you with a raspiness to his voice, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long as he smirked before moving to the cabinets. He stood next to you while you washed the dishes, grabbing himself a bowl while he worked on his breakfast.

Yours arms would brush every so often as you moved while doing your tasks, making you gaze at him. He kept a grin sitting on his face as he casually made a conversation with Evan, his dimple poking out the smallest bit, but still not looking back at you.

As soon as you were finished you left for your bedroom so you could get ready for the day, but not before sparing one last glance at Harry. This time his eyes were already trained on you as he chewed slowly his fruit salad. You felt your cheeks getting a bit warm from the eye contact, making you look down and leave the room with a speeding heart.

The work started early, as you ran around to keep up with the schedule after losing one day of productivity. 

Harry seemed to be in it for teasing you. His touches lingered longer than needed. His kisses were harsher, the need behind them being almost palpable. His gaze on you told you something you couldn’t really tell exactly what it was. Lust? Desire? You weren’t entirely sure, but every time you caught him watching you felt a warmth take over your face.

In one occasion, between takes, as Nia and Evan discussed the best position for the camera considering her broken tripod. You stood awkwardly waiting for their instructions as you played with the hem of your dress. You could feel him staring closely, looking up to find him with the same smirk he gave you in the morning. He looked quickly over your friends who were still trying to figure out the problem before leaning up close to you “Still haven’t let me have a taste, love,” he said quiet enough to that just you could hear, the words sending a chill down your spine and making your core twitch as you glanced back at him.

That same night, after you announced you’d tuck yourself in, just as you changed into your pajama shorts, you heard a soft knock on your door.  You opened up to see his darkened irises staring back at you as he quietly let himself in. And within a few minutes he found his place between your legs, your hand gripping tightly at his curls as you moaned into your pillow.

The  following day wasn’t much different, starting with a tight filming schedule that was coming to a close end. An exchanging of glances across the room and yearning touches with underlying motives behind them. Ending with you lurking into his room at the dark hours of the night, craving-filled touched and muffled moans.

**

The wrap up of the film was welcomed with a bittersweet feeling settling itself in the pit of your stomach. Knowing as much as you were glad everything had gone as smoothly as possible during this week, it was time to leave it all behind. 

You were nervous about how it would be with Harry after you got home. Was this the start of something that could potentially become a warm and beautiful feeling? Or was it just a lust-filled affair that would end as quickly as it had started? It made you anxious to think about it, not wanting to let go of it just yet.

Nia walked into the living room with two champagne bottles that had been brought up for this exact moment. The atmosphere was filled with chatter as everyone celebrated the end of the hard work. 

You were dressed in the fanciest clothes you had brought on your rushed-packed bag, which consisted itself in a black blouse and a loose pair of pants you stole from Nia’s wardrobe a couple weeks prior. But you once again could not compete with Evan’s sense of style, as he seemed right out of a cover with a hot pink turtleneck under a sparkly black dress that hung all the way to his feet.

But you still couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

You watched as he laughed along at something that had been said, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before fixing on Nia as she offered to serve him the champagne she had just opened. 

He looked so good. 

Like you, he didn’t opt for a very glam look, wearing a simple graphic white tee with a rainbow printed on it, and a simple pair of checked trousers. But as plain as someone could argue it was, he still managed to look incredibly inviting, which made it harder for you not to latch yourself onto him.

You were coming into your sixth or seventh glass when it all died down. Your head was fuzzy, and you felt giggly as you cheered along with everyone about the successful week you had. Nia had already gone back to her room. She didn’t  drink as much considering she would have to drive early in the morning, wanting to leave most of the celebration for the premiere day. 

The glances stolen between you and Harry were getting more frequent, the longing in each other's eyes visible with the effect of the alcohol.

**

He had you pressed up against your bedroom door as he sucked in your bottom lip harshly. His hands gripped at your waist tightly, putting his weight against you.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the other pulled at his shirt desperately with the need of having him close. You felt overwhelmed by him in the nicest way. Having his hips pressing against your own, making you open your tights slightly as you felt his arousal straining on his trousers.

You whimpered into his mouth at the feeling, suddenly needing him as close as possible. You could tell his desperation matched your own by the way his hand pressed on the side of your body and his mouth moved against you. His groans getting lost in your throat every time you tangled your fingers on his roots, pulling at it.

“You’re gonna kill me like this, baby,” he breathed out, his lips moving against your wanting ones, “so fuckin’beautiful.”

You tried to keep your shaky hands steady as they travelled down his chest, scratching as his tummy lightly under his shirt before you began pulling it up. He detached from you to quickly reach over his shoulders and pull it off completely.  He didn’t waste any time bringing his hand to unbutton your blouse, peppering kisses along your lips as he moved it down your shoulders, only to be met with your bare breasts underneath.

“Fuck me,” he groaned staring down at you, attaching your lips once again as he pulled you from the door as he fiddled with the zipper of your pants. You stumbled on each other's arms across the floor until you were met with the plush feeling of the bedcovers on the back of your thighs. 

You stepped out of your pants as they got loose around your waist and fell damply to the floor, allowing Harry to push you gently into the mattress. He quickly got rid of his own trousers, wasting no time before towering above you, connecting your mouths once again.

It was like no matter how close you were, it still wasn’t good enough to satisfy the craving you had. You still wanted more. Needed more. 

He was fully licking into you, his hands gripping your tights as he rolled his hips to meet yours. You moaned in unison at the feeling of your arousals meeting deliciously as he repeated the movement once more before parting your mouths so he could spread kisses along your neck.

“Harry,” you breathed out his name, dragging your nails along his back as you moved your hips up eagerly.

He moved his head from your neck o hover above yours, licking his lips teasingly as he looked down at you with dark eyes. He moved one of his hands to caress your cheek lovingly, as the other found your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple. “Can I have a taste, baby?” he leaned his forehead against your, not breaking eye contact, “just a fo’a bit, then you can have me.”

You nodded frantically, brushing your nose against his. He gave you one last peck on the lips before moving down again to lick down at your skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses at your chest, sucking harshly between your breasts.  His tongue moved along your belly, craving his finger into it playfully like you had done to him, making you squeal above him.

He finally settled down between your thighs, his hand gripping at them to keep it apart before moving teasingly slow to the hem of your underwear. Your breath got caught in your throat as you moved up to lean on your elbows, gazing at him, hyper-aware of his every move. 

He looked up, grinning like a devil, before moving his face down to nose gently at your mound. Pulling away, he pressed his hands on your sides, sliding your underwear off your legs as you helped him, raising your hips slightly.

You whimpered as you felt him kiss along your inner thigh, meeting your middle as licked you once. Your hips raised impatiently, making him smirk at you again before completely diving in.

You got lost in the pleasure as he licked his tongue into you, letting yourself fall back in the cushions behind your head. Your hand moved to grip at his hair tightly as he sucked in your clit, making you yelp and call out his name. His mouth was warm as his saliva mixed with your own wetness every time he licked into you.

Feeling your arousal pooling on your folds, you desperately needed to feel him as close as possible. Wanting every inch of him against you.

You pushed him from you, grabbing at his shoulder so he could move up to face you again. He didn’t protest, spattering quick kisses along the way before pressing his mouth against yours. The taste of champagne still lingering on your tongue mixed with your own taste on his as he licked into your mouth.

“y’taste so good, baby,” he groaned, parting from you as he moved to remove his briefs. The limited amount of light illuminated his face beautifully, making you able to notice the glistening of your juices down his chin. You felt your core twitch at the scene above you, desperate to have him fill you up.

“Please,” you urged him, grabbing at his hips to pull him down.

“Can I have you, darlin’?” His voice was raspy, as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, “‘d you let me?”

Your arousal blurred your mind, your grip on his waist tightened as you raised your hips impatiently, nodding along to his question.

“Have to hear you say it, love,” he spoke, leaning down to place kisses along your neck, “just say it, and you’ll have me.”

“You can have me, please, I-” you moaned desperately, babbling words without thinking, “I need you, please.”

He raised his head from your shoulders, giving you a quick peck before reaching down to guide his length between your folds. Your belly tensed as he rubbed his head against your clit, holding back your breath as he finally slid in you.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he choked, pushing his hips all the way, allowing you to feel every inch of him fill you up. You breathed out a moan, reaching your hand on his back. “‘s this all fo’ me?”

You whined out a ‘yes’, rolling your hips as a way of urging him to move. 

His movements began slow, his cock rubbing heavenly against your walls, making you clench around him. You both moaned and whimpered as your lips brushed.

“Can feel me deep?” He asked, resting his forehead against yours as he pushed his dick all the way in. You nodded, yearning for him to start moving again. “Can feel me in y’belly?”

“H, please,” you begged, gripping your nails on his shoulder blades.”Want you.”

“y’have me,” he kissed you hard before moving again, rolling his hips as he picked up the pace.

 The air around you was hot as you threw your head back with the delicious feeling of him hitting the spot inside of you. He was addicting. The salty taste of his skin. The touch of his hands gripping on your sides. The smell of his cologne faintly mixed with sweat. The sound of his skin meeting yours. It made you earn for him in every possible way. 

You felt your wetness dripping out of you as he pulled your leg up to your chest, allowing him to effectively hit deeper spots. The new position made a cramp start to creep up on your thight, but you ignored it to focus on the way his hips met yours.

Time seemed to pass like a blur as you pleasured each other, but soon enough you felt your orgasm building up. His thrusts became more frequent and smooth as he felt you clench more around him.

“that’s it, baby - fuck,” he grunted, moving his hand down to flicker your clit, causing to arch your back, moaning loudly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

His cross necklace dangled over you as he watched you closely. You kept your gaze locked on his as you felt the feeling deep in your tummy take over your entire body. A moan got stuck in your throat as you opened your mouth to an ‘O’ shape, digging your nails further on his shoulders as you reached your high.

**

Getting home, you soon realized that throughout the week you had been so lost in your feelings with Harry that you didn’t even think of asking him for his phone number. 

The month that followed passed by surprisingly quickly. During the first week you were swiftly thrown back again into your old reality of course essays and textbooks. You hadn’t heard a word from Harry, and the most frustrating part is that he seemed to have settled his place inside your thoughts. You tried asking about him to Nia once or twice again, but every time she seemed to come up with vague answers and change the subject, so you figured she had other things to worry about. 

It was a disappointing end, to say the least. Even knowing from the start that being let down was the most possible outcome, it didn’t hurt any less. You often wondered if it had been something you’d done that made him pull away, or if he just wasn’t in it from the start.

By the second week you had gotten a job at a tiny local cafe you used to go after class to study and eat cinnamon rolls. That’s when time starting to rush by, as you found yourself busy through most of your day. Nia was working more than you’ve ever seen her. You two barely talked as she spent most of her time with Evan or inside her room editing. And as the week at the camp house got further away, it started to almost seem like you had imagined all of it. 

Having a lot of distractions helped, but you never seemed to push the thought of a certain curly-haired boy completely away. Sometimes during a tedious lesson you would daydream about the feeling of his lips against yours. Or right before you fell asleep you would think about the taste of his skin, how strong his hand were gripping on your thighs. Maybe even at work. When there wasn’t a lot of movement, you could almost hear the sound of his voice.

It was aggravating, the effect he left on you. It got to a point where you got angry; sometimes at him but sometimes at yourself. He was the one who had gone after you, and yet he was the one who disappeared. But again, he didn’t really owe you anything, and that’s what’s frustrating. You were the one who allowed him; you knew from the start that you would get hurt but you still went for it, anyway.

As you got closer to the premiere night that was planned, you started to get anxious. You would catch yourself daydreaming more often, not being as focused as you were. You even started picking your nails again, which is a habit you thought you’d kick it a long time ago. But truth to be told, you were nervous.

The thought about seeing him again made your heart race. You wished that you could somehow find a way not to go. Maybe ask Nia if the two of you could have a private viewing. You had even thought about bribing her with making your mom’s brownie recipe. But you already knew the answer before you even suggested it. This was an important night for her, and you would be there to support it.

You were overthinking this. Was it going to be awkward when you met him? How would you even greet him? Would he kiss you? Would he ignore you? Should you ignore him? All the scenarios in your head made you want to throw up and run away.

**

When the two of you finally arrived, you were greeted by a cheerful Evan, who jokingly teased you for being late. As you got into his house, you found a bigger group than you expected. It seemed like you and Nia were the last ones to arrive, as there was around ten other people in there. Some of them you recognized from being Nia’s friends, others you had never seen, but none was the one you earned to see the most.

Evan guided you across the living room area, “I’ll show you the kitchen so you two can get some drinks,”  He held up his glass as he spoke. Gesturing to the entrance of the room, “We’ll start everything in around ten minutes, so get ready.”

As you entered the kitchen behind Nia, you could feel her stiffen her posture a bit, before looking back at you. You frowned lightly at her, confused by her behaviour, gazing inside the room and finding immediately a pair of green eyes already watching you. It made you think back to the first time you were in this exact position, except in your own kitchen. This time, however, he was the one to approach you.

He looked really good, which did nothing to help the butterflies flying relentlessly in your stomach. He was in all black, a buttoned up shirt with a few buttons open, exposing a bit of the skin on his chest where a silver necklace laid upon. You swallowed dryly at the sight of his hand running swiftly through his hair, with a ring hugging each one of his fingers. 

As he got close, he greeted Nia first, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning his attention back to you. He shot you a shy smile, before embracing you into a hug. You didn’t really know if it was your mind playing tricks but you felt him a bit hesitant as he greeted you and placed a kiss on your cheek. Pulling away, he cleared his throat, running his hand again through his hair, he almost seemed… nervous?

“‘S nice seeing you again,” he mumbled, “this uhm… ‘s my girlfriend, Jess.”

You could felt your heart drop with his words as you finally noticed a smiley girl coming to his side. 

She wasn’t much taller than you, her red hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail. She matched him with a small black dress that annoyingly hugged her body in all the right ways. You could barely register her greeting you, as you tried your best to keep a straight face to hide the shock that took over your body. You felt a heaviness at the pit of your stomach, a feeling so distressful that made you want to scream as an attempt to make it go away.

You didn’t pay a lot of attention as Nia made a conversation with the girl, knowing that’s what she did best. You kept your gaze directed to Harry, your eyes asking a million questions - you didn’t even think you wanted to know the answers to. But he kept his eyes locked on the floor, eventually looking up at the girl in his arms as she seemed to mention him. But never meeting your own.  Her hand was caressing his chest lovingly while his found their way on her waist, keeping her close.

“I think I’ll get something to drink,” you announced, realizing you might’ve interrupted the conversation as they stopped talking. You turned to Nia, “do you want something?”

She looked back at you with sorry eyes, “I should go with you,” she quickly turned back to the girl, “It was lovely meeting you, Jess.”

“Oh! Sure,” she smiled brightly at you two, her hand moving to rest on Harry’s chest, “we should go get our seats as well, right, babe?” 

You left the scene as quickly as you could, not wanting to hear any more of it. Looking at all the drink options on top of the counter, you tried to think which one could get you drunk enough to stop feeling hurt over someone you spent just a week with, but still sober enough so that you could pretend everything was fine. Before you realized, Nia was standing next to you, getting two plastic pink cups before she stared at you with guilty-filled eyes.

“I should’ve just told you about it,” she sighed, “I didn’t want to make you sad, but looking back it was probably best if you already knew.”

You turned your head to look at her, “so you knew it all along?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt it close once again.

“Evan told me like a few days after we got back!” She rushed, “I don’t know if they were together while we were filming.”

You took a deep breath, knowing Nia was probably blaming herself for putting you into this situation. But you knew it wasn’t her fault, she would never purposely put you in this position if she knew about it before.

“You know what, it’s fine,” you tried your best to cover up the hurt and gave her a weak smile, “it’s not your fault Ni. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m sorry, bubba,” she said, “let’s get you something to drink so you can enjoy this party like the star you are!”

The two of you decided on the vodka mixed with watermelon juice, something you had never even thought of trying before but seemed to be ideal to handle the situation you found yourself in. You walked back to the living area, where people were already beginning to settle on the chairs. 

Following Nia, you prompted yourself on a seat at the edge closest to the door, opposite to where Harry sat with the girl. His girl. You thought bitterly, taking a big sip from your cup and cringing at the strong taste.

There was a speech you didn’t pay much attention to before they started the film, only giving a slight smile when you realized the mention of your name. 

Before you knew it, the lights were out and your face took over the screen. 

It was harder than you thought it would be.  Looking up at the scenes you had with Harry, knowing everything that happened behind the cameras. Knowing every touch and every kiss felt more than just playing a character. You knew the actual feeling of having him to yourself. But now staring at it right in front of you, it just left a sour taste in your mouth. 

You finished your drink barely ten minutes into the film, the feeling of your chest aching starting to become overwhelming as you watched your shared kiss on the big screen. You could feel your throat close once more, your eyes watering a bit.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered to Nia sitting next to you, who gave you a sympathetic smile as you got up. You glimpsed quickly to Harry who had his eyes trained on you, the girl next to him leaning to whisper something in his ear.

You could feel the tears falling down stubbornly as you left the room. Standing in the hallway, you made the decision to turn to the front door instead of the back, not wanting to face anyone with reddish eyes.

You left the house, picking your phone with shaky hands as you managed to call a ride home, sighing in relief as your screen told you it was just about three minutes away.

You heard the door open behind you as stood on the sidewalk hugging yourself to get some warmth on the chilly night. You tried your best to swallow back your tears as you turned around, expecting to find Nia looking at you with pitiful eyes. 

To your surprise, the person standing there was Harry, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as he took in your tearful eyes. He spoke your name in a soft voice, causing you to look away.

“Don’t-” you interrupted, raising your hand at him, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

He frowned at you, not wanting to upset you more. “I’m sorry,” he hesitated, taking a step forward.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, as you watched your ride pulling in front of you. You looked back at him, “I’m sorry too,” you said before moving to enter the car. 

You spared him one last glance through the window as the driver pulled away.

[drabbles-of-writing]

In their wildest dreams, Viney and Jerbo never imagined the chaotic family they would marry into- much less becoming in-laws with each other. Em and Ed basically disowned their high-society family to be with them, and while they don't mind Luz's brand of quirky, it doesn't change the fact that they become in-laws with her and the wild Owl House gang too by extension when she marries Amity.

tyrksebsegr your right that has to be the WEIRDEST thing to have happened to them.

Can you imagine becoming in-laws with one of your best friends + that chill underclassmen??? Because you’re both somehow lucky enough to score a BLIGHT? One of the richest and most powerful families on the Isles?? When they realize it they gonna sit there like What. Gonna be honest, a part of me REALLY wants to give the Blight’s a pet thats like...a carbuncle, a chill orthrus, or a salawa bc like...Barcus my man.

Viney comes from a Very Very poor family of just her & her dad, so when her dad hears that she’s dating and later marrying The rich girl, and enjoys her company, he’s hearing church choirs this man was Blessed.

They don’t MIND being technical siblings-in-law, they practically already were siblings bc that’s how friends be but now it’s like Official and they are Thrown.

All the Blight siblings each had their own trust fund, so when they approaching The End they sort of just,,,,sneak in, steal the password to it, change the password so now it’s only there’s, and DIP. Just one trust fund is more than enough to support a single Blight, so while they’re not as rich as their parents, they got quite a bit of money to support themselves while they get real jobs and don’t gotta focus on the rebellion anymore. Jerbo & Viney’s families are like “oh damn. we rich now?” while Luz doesn’t even Realize until Amity points it out herself.

Jerbo was 100% READY to take Edric’s last name and lowkey flaunt a lil bit because he Like That and his moms were chill with it too but then Edric slides in like “actually I wanna piss off my mom and also I hate my last name can I have yours” and Jerbo, very touched and also realizing this technically means he’s got the sort-of-rich family name now, is very much down for it. Viney was surprised to hear Emira would legitimately want her last name. Yes she knows Emira couldn’t care less how rich her family is, but Viney’s family is still, like, the bottom of the barrel. You sure you don’t want to like, combine the last names or something? But nope, she wants to rid herself of the Blight name completely, so Viney’s chill with it. Luz & Amity have like No arguing over it Luz is thrilled for Amity to have her last name.

Jerbo & Viney are expecting like, a Tiny Peaceful fam because they know the twins ditched their parents and that they know the people of the Owl House, but they’re more like Amity’s thing, you know? MAN they were wrong. Amity is Really close with everyone in the Owl House, and the twins are Really close with Amity. Therefore, everyone deals with each other on a constant basis and now these two nerds are wrapped up in the middle of it.

Eda got sent to a Big Jail again? Welp, let’s call who wants to deal with this bs today. Hey, you two up for a prison break? Councilman is giving Luz flak? Lilith is organizing the most petty and passive-aggressive way to tell him to Back The Hell Up, you want in? Gus, somehow, got caught by police in the human realm and we need people to help bail him out, Please For The Love Of God Help Us. King got stuck in a trashcan again, look at the picture we took lmao.

Neither of them are used to a family of this Size or this Disastrous. So once they’re thrust right into the thick of it they’re getting dragged along for every little adventure until they realize “oh wait we like Don’t have to go on every single one” and then they chill a bit more. Yeah they’ll join every now and again but they also want to Function In Everyday Life.

They have many feelings about everything all the time. Everyone in this family is famous in some way, good or bad. So it’s not a huge surprise when they check the crystal ball and see someone they know being featured prominently. 

Edric & Emira get quite a bit famous because of the whole rebellion thing, but it’s sort of a fun public-mystery about their spouses. Jerbo absolutely Cannot handle attention. Viney can deal with it better but will avoid the press if she can, simply because she doesn’t want to. So you’ve got two rebellion celebrities (who still have minor crimes in petty theft) with very little information on the people they’re married to. Viney and Jerbo actually find it really funny because somehow they became famous for not being famous. 

Viney and Jerbo get shoved WAY more into the family, and nowadays Eda will wake up one day and find anywhere between 2 to 12 people hanging out in her house. She’s too tired to do anything about it now so she doesn’t even bat an eye.

It takes a while for the two to get used to being able to casually walk in uninvited and have it be a normal thing. 

Takes a while for them to get used to a LOT of things but aaaaaaaaaaaaa I have so much to say about this but I’ll stop it at here.

[rokutouxei]

in future tense

part 3 of: atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theodorus van gogh / mc | gen | 2565 | [ao3 in bio]

She and Theo were born and lived in times a hundred years apart. In the weeks they're together, she and Theo attempt to understand their time-separated worlds through a back and forth of trivia. But Theo learns much more than just what it's like to be in the 21st century.

spoiler warning: a conversation between MC and Theo in chapter 4 of his route is referenced.

What does it mean to be born in the 21st century?

Theo tries his best to imagine what it would be like, in a world more than a hundred years from his now; his “now” which is already ten years ahead of his “then”, before vampires, before Comte. And yet even in his wildest imaginations he can’t seem to grasp what it would mean to live in the future; time is instead a looping spiral instead of straight arrow, the kind he used to imagine it was.

When he takes her out into the city the day after she arrived, it’s her first time out of the mansion, into the world that is late 19th century Paris, France. To Theo, nothing really strikes him as different or interesting in this time period; sure, the fashion has changed a little from when before he was turned, and maybe there were a few different landmarks here and there, but nothing that was enough to warrant the look on her face, that was, in two words: entirely wonderstruck.

Eyes as wide as saucers like an excited child, an unashamed smile on her face. At the most mundane things too: the architecture, the cobblestone streets, turns her head at carriages like she had never seen one in her entire life before this point. She observes the ladies passing by, her eyes roaming over their clothes, and then turning back towards her own rather simple set—le Comte hadn’t had a chance to have clothes tailored for her yet, but soon he will. For now, she tugs at her sleeves and runs her hands over her dress like trying her best not to seem like she’s trying too hard to fit in, like these clothes aren’t hers to begin with, like this isn’t the world she belongs to.

And yet, instead, she does the opposite: carries the aura of being someone otherworldly, not entirely alien but at the same time—so strikingly unfamiliar.

At that moment, the image of a recognizable painting fills Theo’s mind, one he’d seen at an auction once, and he wonders if it is rather too on-brand of him as an art dealer to think of such a parallel like that.

Meisje met tulband, painted in the 17th century by Johannes Vermeer, during the Dutch Golden Age. An obviously European woman in what seems like clothes borrowed from worldly trips far from the embrace of home. During this time, what was exotic was valuable. It illuminated experience, knowledge of a bigger world beyond the borders of the mountains and seas. On her head, a turban from an Eastern country, on her frame, clothes that do not suit the style of European garb. But most importantly: a pearl earring, large and glimmering, treasure of the faraway seas, hovering just underneath her ear like hesitating if it actually hangs from it or if it is only an illusion of grandiosity.

So attractive, in all her exoticism, pulled back from the gray of European normal, that is known and familiar and comfortable, standing above all others.

And yet so remarkably out of place.

So on the first week, she and Theo make a deal.

For every thing about the 19th century that Theo explains to her, she would tell him something about the 21st century in exchange. A fair deal, Theo thinks. This is what he can give her. Just a trade of information: nothing too personal to be shared, nothing too involved. This guarantees that both of their curiosities are satisfied, and—well, Theo will never say it out loud, but—this is also his way of getting to know each other in tiny, unobtrusive ways.

Not enough to make a difference, of course, he thinks. He doesn’t want there to be a difference. If he’s keeping her by his side at all times to monitor her, he’ll just have to do his fair share of understanding who he’s working with. That’s about it.

Except there was one thing Theo did not get to add onto his assumptions: that the woman never runs out of questions.

Sure, she has the hindsight of having been born in the time when this has all technically already happened, already a time long past her—time is a spiral, or something, Theo reminds himself—but the reality of having to live all this is still way beyond her. So she doesn’t stop asking. Even about the most trivial of things.

It drives Theo insane.

Like what kinds of clothes people find fashionable. (“You could see it on the street.” “Well, yeah, but I wanted to know what you found fashionable.” “I don’t really care.” “You’re boring.”)

Or if ankles are still scandalous things. (A squint of eyebrows. “Dresses are often supposed to touch the floor.” “Not where I’m from. You’ll see much more than just ankles.” “…Knees?” “…Thighs. Or more.” “…Why.” “Why not?”)

And what kind of things people enjoy. (“Séances? Sounds scary.” “Others talk in flower codes.” “Oh! We still have that in the future! Kinda.”)

Also, if Kings and Queens are still “a thing” (her words)—and she can’t seem to believe him when he says they do, still, in fact, exist, and reign over nations. (“So instead, you have, democracy, you call it?” “Well, we’re trying.”)

But even if she always seems so awed by the workings of this era, somehow it is Theo who is left much more bewildered with the stories she tells. While she listens to him with this kind of avid wonder, the kind a child would have to a storytelling adult, Theo sits next to her like a skeptic, incredulous, mind unable to process what she is saying.

Like, what is an internet? The inter-, he figures out, but a net? Of what?

“It’s a network! That’s what the net stands for. So it’s kind of like a group of people, who get to talk, but digital.”

“Digital? What do fingers have to do with his?”

“Fingers? …oh, because digits. Um. No, it’s kind of like… a space that… you can’t touch? It’s sort of… mental?”

Theo doesn’t have a follow-up question because he doesn’t know how to follow-up to that. He just kind of looks like her like she grew a second head. Can this much change really happen in a hundred years or so? Why is her world so foreign from his?

But it doesn’t deter him. He listens intently to her stories about art in a hundred years. Cameras so small, they can fit in your pocket, so fast they can take a photo in a second. Artworks made not of canvas and paint, but of, again, this “digital” medium, which is accessible to nearly the entire world. And because of this “internet”, everyone who has it can both make and see art so easily—and they can fit these in their “cell phones”, hand-held telephones that can connect to nearly anyone… without wires!

And with each and every one of her attempts to explain the overwhelming time she used to come from, something inside Theo grows, a feeling he does not understand yet. It’s dizzying—but he cannot stop listening.

So he doesn’t stop answering either.

By the second week, whenever their schedule allows, he takes her to museums, introduces her to art movements that have flourished, are only beginning to flourish. Occasionally, she will point at one and say, “Oh, that one’s pretty famous in the future!” and Theo feels a sense of pride. The appreciation for art and beauty is one of the many things that transcends time—if the world allows it to.

He’s far from Comte’s level of elite, but he takes her to shops anyway, to see what things are in stores. The feeling that sits in Theo’s chest only grows as she points at things and says, “That’s a classic vintage piece. I’ve seen those a lot in museums,” and sooner than Theo would like, every mention of time gives him that feeling of distance, pulls her away from him.

So far away.

The fact keeps pressing itself into Theo’s brain, that she doesn’t belong here, she is only a tourist, she is only here for a short while.

The world is a gentler place in that time she is from. He doesn’t want to selfishly keep her here.

(But if he could, if she would, maybe, he wouldn’t be opposed to it.)

Shortly after a conversation about traveling from her home country to Paris in the 21st century—“You can get halfway across the world in half a day?” “Yeah, non-stop flights do that. 900 people in a single ride.” “…I find it hard to believe you.” “You don’t have to, it won’t change the fact.”—that last remark pushes Theo to finally, finally ask the question that he has held hesitantly in his mouth for the longest time.

“What’s it like, sitting here in the 19th century, knowing the future?”

She doesn’t answer for a moment, her eyes shifting off to one side, away from Theo, as she ponders on his question. Theo takes this time to observe her instead—the way she holds herself up now, so comfortable, rather confident in her 19th century clothing, the little ways she’s learned the mannerisms apt for the time. She’s so different from the girl he’d seen that first night, trembling, afraid of a (well-meaning) nightmare.

Ah, yes, yet another reminder that she does not belong here.

Not with him. Not like this.

Theo snaps back into focus once she speaks. “It’s a little conflicting to me,” she begins. “I don’t know how time works, so somehow it both feels like much of it is already set in stone, but also there are so many more things that can change.” She turns to him, meeting his gaze. “But what I’m sure of is that everything you’re doing now is going to have an impact on the future—I guess I’ll see it when I get back.”

(Theo withers ever so slightly, but not enough for her to notice.)

She continues. “It’s a little scary too, because historically—well, I guess it’s not history yet, but, there are still a lot of bad things that will happen, in the next hundred years. So many.” She cringes. “But after that? There are also so many good things that will happen. Things that—well, I haven’t stayed long enough here to say for sure, but—I think many of the good things that will happen by then still seem unthinkable now. The same way you don’t believe me sometimes. But they will happen.”

And she’s so sure of it: tells him that millions of people of all ages, classes, and nationalities go to museums to enjoy art—even Vincent’s!—in the future. That some of them even get to go for free, that the world’s governments actually want people to be in any degree appreciative of art. She tells him how she could just look up a painting on her “cell phone” and she would already be able to experience it, in a way. She tells him that so much of the world revolves around art being accessible, that people don’t even think about it too much anymore. It’s just normal.

“You won’t believe it, Theo,” she says. “Art is everywhere.”

She reminds him of the sunrise.

The sunrise he’s long dreamt of—the dawn of the new era of Art, in a better world where artists are free to make what they want to make, to showcase their work, to continuously push the barriers of the human understanding of beauty and creation. The fact that she’s come from that time doesn’t only make her a reminder of it—but also an assurance, that all of this will pay off, that he is making a difference.

He may not have been one of the chosen ones, the gifted ones, who had extraordinary talents, who could, with a wave of their hand, change the turning of the world, influence society, but—he has something he can do.

And she believes in him.

Why does it make him feel so much steadier just knowing she believes in him?

He is no one. He is nobody important. They can give him names now, call him the Phantom of Goupil, but in the long stretch of time after this, in a hundred years, in a thousand—he will be no one. History will eventually forget his name—and Theo has long accepted this truth. And if he doesn’t have much to offer to time, he has much less for her. The 19th century is no match to the 21st century’s innovations and astonishing development. He is just a plain man from a backwards time.

But at some point in the past few weeks with her, that feeling he’s once again started to ask if he could reclaim has grown in him. The desire to be remembered.

Not by the world, not by history—just by her.

Even a hundred years into the future.

There are a lot of things Theo doesn’t know yet about what’s to come. But if there is one thing about art that he knows is consistent across time, it’s that a single piece of art has the power to change something fundamental in people: the way they see life, the way they see art, the way they think about the world, the way they feel. A fateful encounter not only with the piece of art itself, but with the moment in which one meets it. The feeling that rushes, that consumes, the recognition: that one’s life has now been altered, irrevocably, by that one piece of art.

It is falling in love, but greater.

Theo really thought he would never find the capacity to ever feel that way again. That that moment, with that painting, is the pinnacle of what his heart can take.

But now he knows he isn’t.

Now he knows it isn’t, so he prays.

He doesn’t have much to give, but he prays.

That maybe she will give him the taste of it. Carve the shape of it in his mouth.

Down his throat. Chase it down into the pit of his belly where the acid of his self-resentment remains. Let it echo in his veins.

And if she does—his voice will scramble will to make sense of the sound, and he will settle for other ways to let himself be heard, the strained vocal cords of his heart, calling her hondje, knabbeltje, the only way he knows how. To say “this is for you.” To tell her how good she’s been to him, so obedient. To scoff at her rebuttals. To join in her laughter. To tell her things only the hollow in the center of his chest he’d long shouted at have ever heard.

Oh, she doesn’t even need to ask.

The fact dissolves like something bitter turning sweet, sweet, impossibly sweet on his tongue.

She doesn’t need to do much of anything: she just needs to stay.

To forgive his grumbling, his shaking footsteps, his frequent step-backs into a past that has long left him behind. To look back over her shoulder, call out his name in the star-like lilt of her voice, Theo?

And he will give her everything.

---

in the atelier: The Girl with the Pearl Earring, by Johannes Vermeer, 1665.

this is just a fun trivia thing, but the title "the Girl with the Pearl Earring" (Meisje met de parel in Dutch) was apparently only given to the painting in 1995. i didn't find what it was called much earlier (it was auctioned somewhere in the Hague in 1881, bought by a private collector), but after it was transferred to the Mauritshuis (also in the Hague) in 1902, it was called "Girl with a Turban" (Meisje met tulband). that's kind of why i decided to go for the more obscure / older name.

[ibijau]

Worst engagement AU // on AO3

The war ends, the boys get married, life is good

final chapter of the story y’all!! I am... more than a little emotional TAT Thanks to everyone who followed this story, and reblogged it, and extra special thanks to those people who chatted in the tags because honestly that made my day each time TAT This fic has been a fucking adventure and I wouldn’t have managed without y’all reading it TAT

Nothing has changed. Nie Huaisang is engaged to Lan Xichen, as he already was. He’s in love with Lan Xichen, as he already was. Lan Xichen loves him which… he wasn’t sure of, but he had strong suspicions about that, so it’s not exactly new either.

Everything is still the same.

Everything is different, because Nie Huaisang wakes up to strong arms holding him, to his face pressed against warm skin, to tangled legs, to a dozen proofs that he didn’t dream, that Lan Xichen is still alive, that they are in love, that they’re going to marry not because they were ordered to, but because they want it. Nie Huaisang grins to himself, giddy with happiness after months of bleakness.

When Lan Xichen too wakes up, Nie Huaisang sees his joy mirrored on his fiancé’s face and he has to kiss him once, and twice, and enough times that he starts losing count, his mind empty of anything but the happiness of knowing Lan Xichen is there with him.

They were good last night, both of them too exhausted to do more than fall in bed and quickly drift to sleep as they clung to each other, but that was last night. This morning Nie Huaisang doesn’t see any reason to be so well behaved. It’s not unwelcome anyway. Lan Xichen doesn’t protest or stop him as his kisses grow more insistent, nor when his hands start wandering and caressing in a way they never got to before, exploring the warm skin hidden by Lan Xichen’s inner clothes. Nie Huaisang starts pressing biting kisses down his fiancé’s throat and playing with the hem of his pants, just as a suggestion for Lan Xichen to take or reject.

A knock on the door interrupts what otherwise promised to be the best morning Nie Huaisang ever spent in the Cloud Recesses. Even like this it’s tempting to ignore this unwanted visitor, until they hear Lan Qiren’s voice, threatening to enter if they don’t answer.

Lan Xichen throws an arm over his eyes and sighs deeply, as if this exact moment is the very worst thing he’s ever gone through.

“I’ll be here in a moment, uncle!” he announces as loud as he can without breaking even more rules, before dropping his arm to smile weakly at Nie Huaisang. “I’ll probably be leaving the Cloud Recesses after talking with uncle but… I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.”

Just like that, reality creeps back into Nie Huaisang’s perfect little bubble of happiness. There’s still a war out there. The people he loves are all alive for now, but that can change at any moment.

Nie Huaisang curls up on himself as he sits up, unable to so much as look at Lan Xichen now. All of this could end at any moment, the Wens could return to the Cloud Recesses this very instant and slaughter them like they did to Lotus Piers, or they might catch Lan Xichen alone later and kill him then, or he’ll disappear like Wei Wuxian and never be found, or fall in battle, or…

He feels movement on the mattress as Lan Xichen too sits up, his fiancé’s hands on his, trying to catch his attention, thumbs rubbing circles on his skin. Nie Huaisang refuses to look and wants to tear his hands away. Everything felt so good and perfect earlier, but now…

“Give me a second,” Lan Xichen asks, dropping a careful kiss on his forehead before getting off from the bed.

Instead of getting dressed as Nie Huaisang expects, Lan Xichen walks directly to the door, barefoot and in nothing but his inner clothes. Shocked out of his bout of misery, Nie Huaisang looks up as his fiancé exchanges a few words with Lan Qiren, demanding further delay before coming to talk about whatever he’s needed for. Although Lan Qiren is hidden from his eyes Nie Huaisang can tell he’s not happy about this whole situation, and yet Lan Xichen doesn’t back down. Nie Huaisang can’t quite catch what they’re saying, but he can tell when Lan Xichen wins the argument, closing the door again with a satisfied smile. A little puzzled over what happened, Nie Huaisang tries to leave the bed as well (there’s so much to do, there’s always so much to do) but Lan Xichen stops him with a gesture as he starts searching among the clothes he so carefully folded last night.

“Sit down,” Lan Xichen asks, pulling his xiao from its qiankun bag. “I’ll play for you.”

Nie Huaisang quickly obeys. He doesn’t even need to ask what Lan Xichen intends to play, though he feels embarrassed that his mood was so obvious. His only defence is that nobody has really paid attention to that since he arrived in the Cloud Recesses, and so he’s stopped trying to hide… but Lan Xichen isn’t just anybody, of course he noticed.

“Don’t you have important things to do?” Nie Huaisang mumbles as he gets in a meditative position on the bed.

“This is important too,” Lan Xichen replies without hesitation. “Uncle can wait. And when I talk to him, I’ll tell him that you might need that song played to you. I can’t solve everything that’s wrong in our lives at the moment, A-Sang, but this… this I can do, and I will.”

Even the song doesn’t solve everything, no more than it did the times before. But like before, Nie Huaisang at least finds that his terror and distress are a little less sharp after and when Lan Xichen has to go, Nie Huaisang can kiss him and say goodbye and truly hope that they’ll see each other again soon.

-

It surprises Nie Huaisang a little when Lan Qiren does, in fact, start playing that soothing song for him once a week. He doesn’t think his fiancé’s uncle likes him much, partly due to some of the mischief he got up to as a student, partly because his failure to pass at the end of his first year must be a stain on the teacher’s career. And yet Lan Qiren plays that music for him, simply because Lan Xichen asked him to, and slowly Nie Huaisang finds himself dealing with things a little better.

Away from the Cloud Recesses, the war continues. Nie Huaisang starts paying more attention to that. Most of what reaches him is nothing but gossip of course, but whenever Lan Xichen comes home to discuss the situation with his uncle, Nie Huaisang gets to be there and to find out what’s true. So far, it seems that the wildest rumours are usually the ones closest to the truth. 

Like when Wei Wuxian is found alive, refusing to say where he’s spent the last three months or how he’s suddenly a master in a brand new form of cultivation that he might have invented while he was gone. From what Lan Xichen says, and the letters from Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan he passes on to Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian’s new powers are nothing short of terrifying, and this alone should shorten the war. They’re all worried about him though. Jiang Cheng in particular, every time he writes, does that thing of his where he gets angry to avoid showing he’s sad. Something happened to Wei Wuxian, and it has changed him.

Another big rumour is about a new Qinghe Nie disciple named Meng Yao. Nie Huaisang never gets the whole story until after the war, but what he hears during it is this: this young man, this boy really since he’s roughly the same age as Nie Huaisang, somehow rose to become Nie Mingjue’s second-in-command for a few weeks, then was welcomed into Lanling Jin because apparently he’s actually one of Jin Guangshan’s many, many bastards, and Jin Zixuan has decided to help out his half-siblings if he can. Only that backfires when this Meng Yao fellow just murders a Jin commander, right in front of Nie Mingjue, and escapes to maybe join Qishan Wen. Only it later turns out that Meng Yao has gone there with Jin Zixuan’s blessing to be a double agent, one who saves Nie Mingjue’s life when he is captured (although the details of how, exactly, he saves his former employer’s life seem to have provoked some argument between them) and he’s the one who kills Wen Ruohan, ending the war, and…

And so, the war is over. 

The sons of a servant and of a prostitute shorten it by months, by years even perhaps. Wei Wuxian is acclaimed for the victories he’s won on the battlefield. Meng Yao, soon given the courtesy name Jin Ziyao by Jin Zixuan, earns his place in the family in which his father apparently never wanted him to join. From what Nie Huaisang hears, Madam Jin is not particularly happy about this development, but cannot object when Jin Zixuan, Lan Xichen and even Nie Mingjue points out all that Jin Ziyao has done for the Sunshot Campaign.

The war is over. 

It is over, and they won. 

-

Because mourning periods must be observed, it is still another few months before Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen can marry. In the meanwhile Nie Huaisang goes back to the Unclean Realm where there is much work to be done. 

It is odd to be back there, knowing when he leaves it again, it will be for good. Without anyone to play music for him Nie Huaisang falls into occasional bouts of melancolia again, but months of Lan Qiren playing for him seemed to have healed him enough that his mood never really got as bad as it used to, or at least never for long. It also helps that there is so much to do. New territories to be assessed, war prisoners to check on, debt to pay, the wounded to heal, the wedding to prepare…

Then suddenly, Lan Xichen’s mourning is over, and the wedding is there.

Nie Huaisang feels nearly dizzy on his last day in the Unclean Realm, as Nie Mingjue and Nie Zonghui help him pack the last of his possessions. His whole life now lies in a dozen wooden chests. His fans, his paintings, his best robes, all his brushes, his books. It feels so little, and it feels so much. It’s terrifying that everything is about to change, and it is just as scary the intensity with which Nie Huaisang craves that change. He has barely seen Lan Xichen since the end of the war but they’ve written to each other as often as they’ve been able to and it only strengthened Nie Huaisang’s conviction that this is what he wants for his future.

He wants this.

He still spends most of that last night cuddling his brother who is just as emotional about seeing him leave. There might be a few tears spilled, although Nie Mingjue firmly denies it. Nie Huaisang teases him about, because Nie Mingjue thinks he’s so tough now that he’s the oldest leader among the Great Sects and he has a title, but really he’s still as much of a brat as Nie Huaisang himself.

Even if things are good with Lan Xichen, it’s a relief of sorts when Nie Mingjue promises his brother that should things go wrong, he’ll always have his place in the Unclean Realm, that it will always be home, even if he’s making a new one in the Cloud Recesses.

“Even if things go bad because I’m the one messing up?” Nie Huaisang.

“Yes, you brat. It’s an unconditional promise. I don’t think you could mess up badly enough to make him give up on you at this point, though. He’s stupidly in love, which shows even the best education can’t give you taste.”

Nie Huaisang pinches his brother for that remark, which soon turns into a playfight like they haven’t done in years. Nie Huaisang is proud of himself for holding his own pretty well, though he still ends up having to yield.

-

It’s a little weird to walk around with that veil on his face, but the Lan elders insisted that it would be a break of tradition for Nie Huaisang not to have it. Lan Xichen negotiated for it to be a more translucent veil than usual so that they both get to enjoy the ceremony. Initially Nie Huaisang was somewhat indifferent on the matter, but now he’s glad both that he can see what’s around him, and that he doesn’t have to bother about hiding his emotions.

He almost cries when Lan Xichen helped him down the sedan. His fiancé looks amazing in red and gold, it accentuates his jade skin, his ink black hair. Lan Xichen is always handsome but like this he is breathtaking. Nie Huaisang is so distracted that he almost falls on the ground as he gets down from the sedan, only to be rescued in time by Lan Xichen.

“It’s becoming a habit,” Lan Xichen chuckles against his ear as he helps him on his feet.

“I guess I just can’t help falling for you,” Nie Huaisang retorts.

There’s no veil on Lan Xichen’s face to hide the way he blushes, how he looks at Nie Huaisang in wonder, as if even now he can’t quite believe this is real, and… Nie Huaisang’s heart speeds up because he loves him so much, they are getting married, and maybe he’s also having trouble realising it’s all real. He just wants all this stupid ceremonial to be over already so they can take those damn bows and just be together already.

Of course, that’s too much to ask. A sect leader’s marriage is too important an event to be rushed, and the Lans love their traditions too much. There’s a dozen steps to follow before they can go to the ancestral hall to take their bows before their guests, and even when they get there, Lan Qiren has to delay everything by starting a long winded lecture about their duties and what marriage means in Gusu Lan.

Nie Huaisang’s attention starts drifting away about ten words in, and hidden by his veil, he takes the chance to look around at the assembly.

The first face he spots, mostly because he’s so stupidly tall, is Nie Mingjue who looks like he’s trying hard not to cry. Of course to anyone who doesn’t know him that might pass as a scowl, but… Nie Huaisang knows better. His brother can act as stern as he likes, he’s a sap. Jin Ziyao, standing next to Nie Mingjue, has the smile of someone who also knows what his former employer’s expression really means, which makes Nie Huaisang grin. Things are a little tense still between those two, but everyone agrees that with a little more time, they might get back to the good relationship they briefly had during the war, when they worked together.

Not far from these two, Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan are standing together, whispering quietly under Wei Wuxian's suspicious gaze and Jiang Cheng's resigned one. Something happened during the war, which Nie Huaisang is still trying to get the full story for. Some business about soup that Jiang Yanli made for her former fiancé, only for an ambitious servant girl to take the credit. If Jiang Cheng hadn't happened to notice that soup during a visit to Jin Zixuan and explained the truth, things might have gone bad. Instead, Jin Zixuan ended up thanking Jiang Yanli for what he apparently called ‘the best part of his days’ (Jiang Cheng reported this to Nie Huaisang with a grimace) and they started chatting whenever they had time for it. It is now almost certain that these two will resume their engagement when their own mourning is over. 

Wei Wuxian is not happy about that. In fairness, he's not happy about much these days. Jiang Cheng is getting pretty anxious about what happened to his adopted brother while he was gone, as is Lan Wangji. Nie Huaisang hasn't been able to do much on that subject, all the way up in Qinghe, but he's determined to get the truth into the light now that he'll be closer. If nothing else, maybe that soothing song which helped Nie Huaisang will do Wei Wuxian some good as well. He'll start throwing the idea around next month, when he goes to Lotus Piers for that brotherhood oath that Jiang Cheng has demanded to take with Nie Huaisang. 

"A-Sang," Lan Xichen whispers, low enough others shouldn't hear. "Pay attention, it's almost time." 

Hunching his shoulders, Nie Huaisang feels grateful for the veil that hides how he blushes at being caught like this. Lan Xichen doesn't seem upset though, clearly knowing the effect his uncle's lecture can have on others. 

When finally Lan Qiren finishes his drawn out speech, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen step forward. Lan Xichen undoes the white ribbon on his forehead, and together their tie it around their wrists before taking their three bows. When they stand up for the final time, it's done.

They are married. 

Nie Huaisang’s hands start trembling from the shock of that realisation. He has spent nearly half his life waiting for this moment, either with dread or anticipation, and it's over now. They are married. If he could, if it weren't a breach of tradition and decorum, Nie Huaisang would kiss his husband right now. Lan Xichen looks down at him with such wonder on his face that he knows it wouldn't be unwelcome.

There’s still more stupid ceremonies and traditions to go through before that. Nie Huaisang bears with it as patiently as he can until finally, finally it is time for them to retire from the ceremony and go to their new home. Nie Huaisang doesn’t pay attention to anything on the way there, except for the warm sensation of Lan Xichen’s hand in his and the way his husband can’t stop smiling, how gorgeous he is like that.

When the door closes behind them, when they are alone at last, Nie Huaisang feels so nervous and excited that he’s sure he must be vibrating from it. He wants to tear away that stupid veil and just kiss Lan Xichen already, but through an immense effort of self-control, he doesn’t. 

“Won’t my husband uncover me?” he asks, delighting in the way Lan Xichen blushes at the word, the slight gasp he can’t contain, the way he smiles as if this is the best day of his life, as if nothing in the world could be better than this exact moment.

“If my husband wishes,” Lan Xichen replies, which sends Nie Huaisang’s heart racing and his cheeks burn. 

He’ll have to tell Lan Xichen not to call him that too much, because the embarrassment might kill him. He’ll have to tell him to say the word husband over and over again, because he loves the way it sounds in Lan Xichen’s voice.

Before anything else, Lan Xichen undoes the knot on the ribbon that tie their wrists, gently tying it again on Nie Huaisang’s arm in a gesture that feels almost too intimate. Then, with great care, Lan Xichen takes the hem of Nie Huaisang’s veil and slowly lifts it, revealing his face. Nie Huaisang knows he probably doesn’t look like much at the moment, he’s blushing so much, and his eyes must be red as well from trying not to cry, and he’s grinning like a fool. But Lan Xichen must like what he sees because as soon as the veil is out of the way, he lowers his hands to Nie Huaisang’s cheeks and pulls him into a kiss, as if he cannot wait a second more, as if he too has been biding his time all day.

Nie Huaisang half laughs into the kiss, too giddy to contain himself, and throws his arms around his husband’s neck to keep him close, as close as they can be.

They are married, and Nie Huaisang never thought it was possible to feel so happy.

-

It’s still mostly dark when Nie Huaisang opens his eyes again and half panics because he can’t breathe right. He struggles and kicks until he can free himself, only to hear a discontent grunt and be pulled back into a tight embrace.

As his eyes get used to the meagre light and his brain continues waking up, Nie Huaisang realises where he is and relaxes. This unfamiliar room is his own now. That tight embrace is his husband's, who even in sleep can't seem to let him go. Nie Huaisang chuckles quietly at the idea, wondering if anyone else would ever guess how clingy Lan Xichen, the mighty Zewu-Jun, can be in private.

Clingy doesn't even begin to cut it. Last night was… well, Nie Huaisang has no complaints about that. He used to think that his married life would be a cold one, but that clearly won't be the case. Lan Xichen is, to put it mildly, very enthusiastic about marital activities, and Nie Huaisang can't wait to show him some of his more private books to give him a few ideas on how to use all that enthusiasm. Even just like this though, being together was better than Nie Huaisang expected. Of course his only basis for comparison is that afternoon with Jin Zixuan. It's funny how different last night felt. It was mostly the same acts, but with this much pent up emotion behind them, driven by desire rather than just curiosity… 

So far, married life is pretty good. 

If he could, Nie Huaisang would go back to sleep. It’s awfully early, they’ve had a long day yesterday, and today promises to be longer still, with more celebrations they’ll have to take part in. Sleep, however, eludes him. There’s too much to think about, too much novelty. After trying for a while to close his eyes and wait, Nie Huaisang gives up and decides to just leave the bed.

That’s easier said than done. Lan Xichen really is clingy, and he’s stronger than anyone has any reasonable excuse to be, so it’s a struggle to escape him and not be caught back. Nie Huaisang manages in the end, and makes a mental note to tease his husband about it later.

For now, he dresses up and takes a moment to wander a bit around the house. Their house. He hasn’t had a chance to see it before. It used to be Lan Xichen’s father’s house, and since it was left relatively untouched by the fire, it’s theirs now. 

In his letters, Lan Xichen has somewhat hinted that he isn’t too happy with this state of affairs and would have preferred to live nearly anywhere else in the Cloud Recesses. A sect leader must have a house worthy of his rank though, and the circumstances make it difficult to justify building a new one. Maybe in some years, when everything else has stabilised… until then, they’ll make do with this. Nie Huaisang is intent on decorating this place and leaving his mark everywhere. Lan Xichen, so far, hasn’t explained why it upsets him to have anything in common with his father, but it doesn’t matter. If Lan Xichen is upset, then Nie Huaisang will do his best to distract him from it.

As the night gets lighter, Nie Huaisang quickly explores a few rooms. This one will make a great office for Lan Xichen, that one needs to be tidied but could be used by Nie Huaisang to paint because the light in it must be perfect during the day. Here to see guests, there to welcome family and friends… there are even rooms that could be great for children, when they decide how to deal with that.

Dawn is fast approaching when Nie Huaisang gets to the house’s entrance. He’s tempted to go for a walk, even if technically that’s a break of curfew. Hopefully, being the sect leader’s husband gives him a few special rights.

He only makes it through the door of the Hanshi before he has to stop in his tracks. There, in front of the house, there’s an old tree to which he barely paid attention yesterday when he came in. Now, he can’t take his eyes off of it.

On the branch of that tree hangs a bird-feeder.

Not only that, but there’s a few sparrows enjoying breakfast in the first ray of the sun, chattering between themselves and fighting for the best seeds. It’s nothing much, it’s just sparrows, but Nie Huaisang feels himself grinning at the sight. It’s just sparrows, and wild ones at that, but they’re his birds, his husband’s way of making him feel at home and he could almost cry from how emotional that’s making him.

All thoughts of a walk gone, Nie Huaisang sits on the porch of his home, watching his birds.

Then, because life is good, before very long he hears some ruffling behind him. The sparrows freeze for a second at the noise, a few even flying away, but most quickly go back to their feast as Lan Xichen sits down right behind Nie Huaisang, covering both of them with a blanket before wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist.

“You were gone,” Lan Xichen sleepily mutters, just a hint of reproach as he buries his face in the crook of Nie Huaisang’s neck.

“But you found me. Is it okay to stay here a bit?”

In answer Lan Xichen shrugs and vaguely grumbles, already relaxing against Nie Huaisang’s back, as if he’s already falling asleep again. Nie Huaisang bites his lips not to laugh, not wanting to scare the birds or wake his poor tired husband again. He puts his hands on Lan Xichen’s and leans into the embrace, a wide smile on his lips.

Life is good, and he can’t wait to see what awaits the two of them.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I feel like if you’re reading this post, you already know this story. But just in case:

Final Fantasy Versus XIII: A Final Fantasy spin-off title, that was being helmed by Kingdom Hearts series creator and director, Tetsuya Nomura (his first time directing a Final Fantasy title). That was supposed to be this dark, gritty story that revolutionized the genre, that the team thought was going to be on par with their most cherished game, Final Fantasy VII

Final Fantasy XV: What came from the ashes of Versus XIII, as Versus XIII died and never got to exist (a very long story there, I’m not going to talk about it). That basically was Versus XIII--like, with arguably most of the same story and characters. Or at least it was supposed to be--with major changes. Such as director Tetsuya Nomura getting kicked off the project (also a long story there. I’m not getting into it); and the game going from an M rating to T, as Square Enix suddenly wanted the game to appeal to a wider audience than they thought it might otherwise (because suddenly, it needed to save console gaming in Japan and perhaps the Final Fantasy brand). The story was changed (just how much so--and just how much remained the same--we may never know. But former director Tetsuya Nomura seems to think it changed enough, as he remains pissed about what happened with FFXV to this day). And perhaps even simplified the story, because new director Tabata was hearing complaints for convoluted stories.

Anyway... I played Final Fantasy XV, and I loved it. I still love it. I will probably always love it. But at one point, I kind of looked back on the promises of Final Fantasy Versus XIII, and wished that FFXV could have been that... I even got into an anti-FFXV phase for a while, because I wanted Versus XIII so badly (I got over that. And I’m very much glad that I did).

But at some point, I found myself wishing that we somehow could’ve gotten both games: Tetsuya Nomura’s Final Fantasy Versus XIII, and Hajime Tabata’s Final Fantasy XV.

But now that that’s essentially happening (something I never thought would happen, in my wildest dreams) with Versus XIII basically being put into KH now, and getting its own KH game... I can’t help feeling it’s going to be so weird. Because first off, this game still won’t be entirely what Nomura wanted it to be (because now it’s got to be in kid friendly Kingdom Hearts. But the fact that he’s doing this, must mean that even then he thinks this is going to stick closer to his vision than FFXV did). Because I do in part think that the games actually did/will have a lot in common, so it’s almost going to feel like we have two different versions of the same game(?). But also not, of course.

It’s- it’s going to be interesting. And we’ll see what happens. And I think I am excited.

But man, am I realizing I’m a contradictory person sometimes. Originally, I wanted Versus XIII. When the changes to XV happened, I was initially upset and wasn’t even sure I was going to give the game a chance... but then I did, and fell in love. Until I entered an “anti-FFXV, because I wish we’d been given the game we’d been promised in the earlier trailers” mindset. And then, as I said, I started wishing there was a world where we could have gotten both games... And now we are, and I suddenly somewhat don’t want it and am content with FFXV (mainly because part of me thinks Nomura should just let it go at this point. And I’m worried he’s sacrificing KH on an altar to make this happen, though hopefully not).

But I think I’m finding that hype again, and this is excite.

Anyway...

Edit: I am happy to say, though, that I can finally (and I’ve been able to do this for a while) separate FFXV from Versus XIII/Verum Rex and enjoy them both as their own things. And I think it’s better when you do that. And it’s maybe even the promise that we might actually be getting our Versus XIII in some form, that doesn’t make me look at some of those concepts with regret, that they were never utilized.

[ultravioletvoleur]

So, we know Sun grew up in Vacuo, and it is hinted at his childhood not exactly being what most would consider fun. What do we know about it other than that one fact and one vague notion? Nothing?

Awesome. Let's fix that.

Sun Wukong was not born with the name, actually having been given the name Seiten Taisei by his father Gokuu and mother Konohana. He would never get to know them, however, as they were overworked Faunus laborers who fell ill and, because they had to choose between treatment or their son, raised him until their dying day. Sun's first memories were of an orphanage, hot, must and overly full of children, yet somehow so dreadfully empty.

By the age of two, he was all alone in the world.

His childhood was rough, and he was often left to his own devices. Not out of any malice on the part of the matron, it was just an unfortunate circumstance of having far too many children with far too little staff. Many nights, he went cold or hungry due to lack of resources, and the other children were hesitant to share with him, as most of them, while in an equally terribe situation, saw him as lesser due to his being Faunus and not Human. A bitterness grew in him, but he just used that as fuel- he would make something of himself.

Those kids who did associate with him were the other outcasts, either being Faunus or being branded as freaks for not caring about their associates heritage. So, as outcasts, they fell into some unsavory habits, and the young Sun fell in with them. Down into a dark abyss of treachery, purse-cutting and stealth. Thieving was something he took to immediately- and had a real knack for. Nobody pays attention to a tail when you have two hands that can be stealing. Still, though, ever the driven one, Sun did take it a step too far. The others had warned him to stay out of that area of town- bad things happened there, and worse things happened to those who did bad things without permission.

Propelled forward by a childish arrogance, he began to fleece people in that area of town, and it was good! He was coming back with roughly double to triple on the daily what he'd been able to accrue prior, but as with any meteoric rise, the fall would be just as hard. He was seven, and he was performing his route when everything went black. When he woke up, he was in a small room made of concrete, the only source of light a half-melted candle. There was also a man dressed in a rich, bright yellow suit who told him how disappointed he was that the riffraff cutting him out of their take was just a boy, and then the beating began.

Once they had finished- and Sun no longer had any idea what time or even what day it was- he introduced himself as the leader of the Court of Heaven, a group of thieves who made the rich part of town their stomping ground. Sun was given an ultimatum, join them or waste away in the concrete cell. He chose the former, and thus his spree of crimes became a life of them, working under the hatshest beatings for the smallest errors, until one day, a guy named Jade stabbed their leader through the heart and took the "throne" for himself, naming himself the Jade Emperor. While things did improve for Sun under the new leadership, he was eventually found out and sentenced to several years in detention labor for his rampant thievery.

He was ten.

For the next three and a half years, he worked in a juvenile detention facility for Faunus, exploited for free labor, until one day he was told that his bail had been posted- he was free. He left, scared and confused. Surely nobody in the Court of Heaven would have bought his way out, and since he hadn't said a word about them, it's not like they were having him erased. But what was happening was well beyond his wildest dreams.

There was a kind-looking man there, who introduced himself as Doctor Tang Sanzang, and he had a second surprise for the young man: his adoption papers. So he went home- for the first time he could remember, well and truly home. The man introduced himself and said that all he needed to do was sign on the line, and offered him two forms, one with Seiten Taisei, or a new identity: Sun Wukong. He happily signed the second form, hoping to distance himself from the pain and isolation of his old life, and enjoy time with the Doctor.

The Doctor began to instruct him in the ways of martial arts, and even helped him construct Ruyi-Bang and Jingu-Bang when he felt the time was right. It was a rushed course, without much time for pause, as Sanzang was preparing Sun for the path he'd chosen one night while he'd read a story to his new son of a Huntsman who had gained fame and renown the world over- in spite of being looked down on as a Faunus. By the time he'd turned fourteen, his aptitude for combat, combined with his natural and practiced agility, made him a shoe in for entrance into combat school.

From there, the rest is history. He graduates from Vacuo's equivalent of Signal and applies to Haven to be further from Vacuo and his past, which is still haunting his steps every moment of every day.

[mst3kproject]

The Incredible Petrified World

When choosing episodes that never were, it is always tempting to just pick crap movies I enjoy watching, like Lady Frankenstein or The Giant Claw, and ignore the unwatchable bilge – but this blog is about films that were or should have been on MST3K, and they riffed their way through quite a bit of unwatchable bilge over the years, from The Robot vs the Aztec Mummy to dreary dubbed Hamlet. I would therefore be sadly remiss if I neglected truly wretched movies entirely, and so we come to The Incredible Petrified World.  It’s a Jerry Warren movie that serves very well to emphasize that Teenage Zombies might be his best work, and it stars John Carradine from The Unearthly and Phyllis Coates from Invasion USA.  It’s also one of the most difficult movies I’ve ever had to sit through, right up there with Invasion of the Neptune Men, so brace yourselves because this is gonna hurt.

A Dr. Wyman (evidently this is before the Blood Beast ate his brain) has invented a special deep-diving bell, and it’s time for its first test in the Caribbean. The expedition consists of three scientists and a reporter – the former are two identical-faced men and a brunette, and the latter is a blonde.  Don’t expect me to remember their names.  Halfway down, the cable snaps and they plummet to the seafloor… but when they come to, they realize there’s light in the windows.  They’ve somehow entered a series of underwater caverns, which are inexplicably full of air and light!  After wandering around eating up time I could have spent watching a better movie, they encounter a man in a fake beard who says he’s been down there for fourteen years. For some reason this guy decides to kill them all, but at the last minute a volcano erupts, squashing him so everybody else can be rescued.

Interspersed with all this are scenes of Wyman’s brother and his collaborators, helping in the search for the missing scientists and building their own diving bell for a follow-up mission.  These parts seemed weirdly disconnected from the rest of the movie, and I wondered if they were shot and added later because somebody thought the movie was going to be too short.  But then at the end, all these characters appear together on the rescue boat.  I guess the writing just sucked.

Oh, man, fuck this movie.  It really is the dumbest, dullest thing imaginable.  The whole thing is just a bunch of scenes that wander across the screen but never amount to much, so in that spirit I’m going to make a bunch of observations and not worry about whether they add up to a review.  Here goes.

The actual beginning of the movie is some footage of an octopus fighting a shark, while a narrator tells us that the sea is the wildest and most hostile place on earth… although his words aren’t nearly so poetic.  In fact, the narrator sounds like he’s reading the script aloud for the first time, while wondering if he remembered to lock his car.  He drones on and on about the things that lurk in the depths while we see dull footage of fish swimming around for nearly four minutes.  I already want to turn this off and go do something fun, like sweep the floor. Even worse, none of this has a crumb to do with the rest of the movie, which is set not at the seafloor, but in a cave, where there are no sharks or octopodes.

The diving bell looks about as solid as a beach ball and is significantly bigger on the inside than the outside.  Everything in it is controlled by two switches on the wall and an oscilloscope. The dialogue is at pains to note that the second bell, the one built by Wyman’s brother, is identical to the first. This means they can use the same set.

All these undersea caverns have nice level floors for the characters to walk on, which is good because the women wore heels for their descent into the murky abyss.  At one point they encounter an Australian perentie lizard, which is only seen in a cutaway because it’s stock footage from the other side of the world.  I don’t know how long they’re supposed to have spent wandering around in the caves but since the search was eventually called off it must have been a couple of weeks at least.  Despite this, nobody’s clothes get dirty.  The women’s hair and makeup always look perfect, and the men never need to shave.  Come to think of it, how does Beard Guy know he’s been down there for fourteen years? He’s in a fucking cave.  There’s no day or night to pass the time, and he doesn’t wear a watch.

Beard Guy apparently tells the characters that he and Mysterious Skeleton were sailors on a ship that sank, and that’s how they ended up in here. The two men suspect that he isn’t telling the truth.  It turns out Beard Guy is the one who killed Mysterious Skeleton, although it never tells us why – maybe he’s just crazy, or maybe he got really hungry one day. If there’s a dark truth to how he ended up in this place, however, the audience never learns what it is.

Much of what we see is just filling time.  One of the guys says they can make fishing spears out of some of the equipment they had in the diving bell, and then we have to watch them do it. There’s a bit where a guy back on land is driving somewhere, and we hear a news broadcast on the search, which is fine, but then we also have to listen to the weather report as well. Characters wander through rocks, and then wander back through the same rocks shot from a slightly different angle.

There is an attempt at subplots.  The blonde woman is the bitchy one and the brunette is the nice one.  The former has just broken up with her boyfriend and threw his engagement ring into the ocean.  One of the men confesses his love to the latter.  Both of these ideas come out of nowhere, are given three or four lines, and vanish into the mist, never to be heard from again.  Beard Guy, whose ‘beard’ looks more like a stuffed animal glued to his face, tries to rape the blonde while the men are gone.  Since the movie was made in the fifties he doesn’t get very far before he is buried by falling rocks.  If this had happened so the men could heroically save her, it would have annoyed me, but the utter pointlessness of the scene we did get is worse.

The erupting volcano is exactly like the erupting volcano in The Land that Time Forgot, in that the volcano only exists to end the movie at an arbitrary point.  At least it’s not here to steal the happy ending this time.  Footage of the actual eruption is upside-down for some reason, maybe because we’re under the ground.  What sense does that make?  Did the writer think the earth is hollow and volcanoes on its inner surface point down instead?

The dialogue is unsalvageable.  There’s an entire conversation between John Carradine and some other guy about why the cable broke on the first diving bell, and not only is everything they say nonsense, they can’t even make it sound like anything but.  Characters on Star Trek talk complete bullshit all the time, but at least they mostly sound like they believe in it.  John Carradine and his co-star have absolutely no idea what they’re saying, and don’t care enough to try.  Something about making the diving bell too strong.

It pretty much goes without saying that The Incredible Petrified World doesn’t have anything to say.  The entire story, insofar as it goes, is completely without point or plot.  It barely even has a premise.  Various characters take turns moaning and wailing about how they’re gonna be down here for the rest of their lives, but then they recover and get on with things after all.  The men discuss survival strategies and the women complain.  Nothing develops.  The blonde supposedly has an arc, in that at the end she says “my life will be changed from here on out”, but this is the most told and least shown character development of any movie ever.

It’s a complete mystery to me why anyone bothered making this movie.  Most movies have something going on: they want to tell a story, to examine an idea, to showcase an actor, to sell soundtrack albums, to leech money from nostalgic fans of an old cartoon… sometimes these ambitions are cynical but they’re still there.  Even really, really, legendarily bad movies have goals. Foodfight wants you to buy name-brand instead of generic.  Manos: the Hands of Fate wants to prove it’s not as difficult or expensive to make a movie as Hollywood would have you believe.  The Hottie and the Nottie wants to convince you that Paris Hilton can act.  All these movies are miserable fucking failures but you can tell what they were going for.

The Incredible Petrified World isn’t even going for anything.  It just takes some bad actors, stands them in front of the camera for a few minutes, and then lets them go home.  There is literally nothing beneath the surface, and the surface is so insubstantial it barely counts. It’s movie dark matter, adding to the mass of the universe but otherwise completely fucking inert.

[gazelessstare]

How do you think Taylor managed to get past through the delicate part of giving her new relationship with Karlie a chance despite the fears and emotional scars she acquired from her past relationship? Just listening to Wildest Dreams and Delicate is giving me so many feels.

Humm okay I am going to answer this by looking into Taylor’s lyrics, since I obviously don’t know how it happened IRL but I will assume that she is telling her story as it is.

Wonderland and Clean left little to no doubt about how her past relationship ended and how it was probably doomed from the beginning. This Love also demonstrates how unreliable, for reason I am in no capacity of discussing, the other person was. When she talks about OOTW she herself said that the number one feeling in that relationship was anxiety, and that it felt very fragile and tentative, but it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t special, but she was somehow wishing for something solid and healthy; 2 feelings that are very present throughout REP.

Looking into Wildest Dreams and Delicate is very interesting indeed (and emotional depending on your state while listening to them) I would also add I Know Places to the mix.

To keep it short, Wildest Dreams for me is her being swept off of her feet and feeling absolutely helpless because she thinks ghosts of her past are haunting us, she still hasn’t heeled from her insecurities. She was basically writing an anticipated break up song and she knew it was going to wreck her.

Delicate has 2 major themes one dealing with her bad reputation 1.0 (the un-datable TS image circa 2013 sadly) AND once the fears of opening up to someone new who would see her for who she is, while she is still full of hesitations “We can't make any promises now, can we, babe?” She also alludes to the fear of being cheated on again “Stay here honey I don’t wanna share” even if in Delicate she makes it sound like she was trying to act cool and keep it casual.

I added I Know Places to this because it also deals with the same set of emotions; anxiety, hesitation, fear of being hurt again, anticipating a heartbreak. But on top of all these, IKP specifically addresses how the outside world affects her love life (the one she tries to keep under wrap and the one presented to the world) and traps her, even worse chases her. It is a very loud song, she is angry, but somehow channels this angry into something productive and it activates her fight or flight instinct. I know I am at awe about her writing a lot of time but the second verse of this song has a lot to unpack:

Lights flash and we'll run for the fences

Let them say what they want, we won't hear it

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time

Not this time 

Everything changes for her here, it is a huge turning point, she learned from the past and she is not letting what happened before, happen again. It is also partially due to  the nature of the person she is with at this point. And in YAIL she is pretty much over these fears and emotional scars, it is IMO the most peaceful and serene song Taylor has ever written *Jumps 13 steps forward to CIWYW its REP twin: Loves me like I’m brand new*

And this is how I think she dealt with the heavy ghosts of her past relationship during the first couple of months onto the new one by looking into her own words. It probably wouldn’t have worked out with someone else, but it seems like she found someone who gets her. And who was ready to stick by her side, every step of the way no matter how tough things get.

[mamaredd123]

A Taste of Something...New

A/N: It’s been awhile since I posted anything on here and for that I offer my apologies. Writer’s block and life in general have been wreaking havoc on my creative tendencies. But I do have a brand new little tale to share with y’all and I hope you enjoy it. Not exactly sure how long this one will be but I am already 3 chapters in. Hopefully y’all will stick around and see how it plays out.

WARNING: can’t think of any in this chapter.. if you spot any please let me know and I’ll tag them though

WORD COUNT: 1566

PAIRING: none yet... the best is yet to come

Mama’s Master List

Mama’s Tag List 

Just as a gentle reminder, if you happen to enjoy this (or didn’t), leave some feedback or even hit the reblog button. We all know how great it feels to get some feedback from our writings.

‘I'm gonna work late again tonight baby’

She read the text and then sat the phone down almost nonchalantly. Same words, another day. She knew he had to work, had to get the job done to put the money in the bank to pay the bills. Somehow, after seven years of this, it had just become monotonous. It was just words.

Was he actually working? Was THIS job that important? Just last Saturday he had promised to take her out to eat, finally a date night, but work had delayed him and they had missed their reservation. The one question that nagged her more than anything though, even after twenty-three years, was did she even really care?

Glancing over at the phone, with a slight hesitation, she picked it up and texted back her usual response.

‘Ok… try not to be too late.. love u’

Within seconds she got her “love u” text back and she knew he was done communicating with her for the night. She would not hear anything else from him unless he woke her when he came home in the wee hours of the morning.

Recently, she had been having these thoughts more and more when she got his recurrent texts each night, always the same theme, work. It hadn’t always been like that between them. They had met and fell in love early in life, such a joyous thing! He had been so full of life back then. Even after the kids were born nothing had changed. He used to always make sure he was home in time for dinner, he planned all their family vacations, and even surprised her on more occasions than she could remember with small weekend getaways for the two of them.

Presently, she was forty-three, both their kids grown and out in the world on their own. Now it was just him and her. Mostly, it seemed like it was just her. He very seldom was even home at night before she fell asleep. This should be the best years of their lives! They should be enjoying a few years (hopefully about five or nine years) before grandchildren and then spending the rest of their lives entertaining the younger generation with tales of laughter and words of wisdom. With life, there's always some obscure twist of fate though.

Her days and nights seemed to run together, with blurred lines, each one appearing to be a mirror image of the one before it. She would get up each morning, get him dressed and out the door. The rest of the mornings, she spent tidying up the house, maybe a load of laundry, and taking care of any bills that needed to be seen to. Her afternoon’s were just as exciting. Usually, she would make a quick run to the grocery store for a few items and if she really wanted to do something thrilling, she might even stumble into the local Walmart for a little window shopping. Then she would return home and prepare a dinner that would not be eaten hot.

After all of the ‘wife chores’ were done, however, she made the rest of each day her time. In between binge watching and casual surfing on the net, a few months ago, she had stumbled across a website that shared, which was new to her, fan fiction. Between all the things going on in her life, the new obsession of her new favorite show, and obviously her freedom, she was immediately hooked. Fanfiction! Who would have thought! She remembered the eighties and the nineties so she knew all about fangirling over someone, or so she thought.

So here she was sitting alone, again, in the middle of the night. She was all bundled up in the covers of their bed, computer up and running, and scrolling through her new favorite internet site. Reading the stories she stumbled upon drew her back to her high school fantasies. In the nineties, yea she had her crushes on the favorite celebrities but even in her wildest dreams, never had she ever some up with some of the stuff she was reading tonight. That was really saying a lot, really, cause the things that she thought of doing with Marky Mark HIMSELF (and still thought about doing today), well, they definitely made her blush when she thought about them. But.. these stories she read! There were things described in them that she had never even thought possible and she had been married FOREVER, or so it seemed.

Finishing the latest tale of unabashed lust, she shoved the laptop away from her. Leaning back on her pillow, she looked over to his side of the bed. The emptiness of it seemed to weigh even heavier tonight for some reason. She tried to think back on any given day/night when things seemed to change between them. Nothing stood out. Not one single moment. Except this one. A deep sigh escaped her as she realized she really did love him. That was why she was here, alone, every night, by herself. But was that enough? Business was good. She always tried to make sure nothing interfered with that. The kids were as good as they were gonna get. She always made sure he had clean clothes in the morning, a clean house or at least a semi clean house, a cold beer in the fridge, and something to eat when he was hungry. Doesn’t sound like much but that was basically all he ever asked from her all these years. If you thought about it, she really had it made.

Shaking her head, she climbed out of bed and headed to the kitchen. This way of thinking was definitely not a good thing, not if she was going to find a way to find some kind of passion, lust, love, anything to salvage her marriage. She grabbed her tumbler and filled it with ice. Reaching for the cabinet door, a small voice echoed in her head ‘all you do is drink yourself to sleep every night’. Shaking her head again, she reached in the cabinet and pulled out the bottle of bourbon. She filled the cup and mixed in the coke with zero hesitation well maybe a second's hesitation when she rethought about how she was trying to figure away to salvage her marriage. Taking the first sip, however, always felt like a open act of rebellion, even though no one was there to see it. She really didn’t drink much, usually a couple of drinks at night, maybe a glass of wine or two.

The thoughts running through her mind weren’t very productive as she moved from the kitchen and back to the bedroom. ‘Screw him’ was the basic principle of them. Most of these long nights, she felt like she was spinning out of control. One second, desperate to fix her marriage and breath life back into it. The next, angry as hell at him for always leaving her alone. Getting back under the covers, nursing her drink, she pulled her computer closer. She had to get out of her own mind, she thought to herself as she settled down to read some more fanfiction. Instead of going to her notification page to see who had posted another chapter of delicious, flesh devouring, sin ridden fiction, she chose to scrolled the main page. Maybe she would find a few new authors to stalk.

The first thing she noticed was a post from one of her most favorite authors stating that she was attending a comic con, in her state! This woman, oh man, she had been reading her stories since the day she joined the site. There was a lot of hype going on about the convention she realized as she read through the comments on the post. The entire cast of the show was going to be there! Out of curiosity, she opened another browser and looked up the convention. To her surprise, it was actually being held here in town. The thought of meeting any of the cast would be delightful but also possibly meeting her? Would he care if she went? Would he even notice she was gone? 

She glanced over at the empty side of the bed and sighed deeply. She longed for romance like the ones she read. She hungered for some passion in her life. She ached from the loneliness. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the emotions, who can really say what compelled her but she clicked on the Buy Tickets tab and bought herself a gold package! He would probably kill her when he realized how much she had just spent but oh well. She very seldom ever asked for anything from him. She finished her drink, tucked her laptop away for the night, and settled down in the bed. Her dreams that night, for once, were not bleak or dismal. Instead, they were full of delicious fantasies. 

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

When he came home that night, he found her balled up under the covers with a soft smile across her face. He paused and watched her for a few moments. It had been a long time since he had seen her smile like that. Quietly, he slipped out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. He would sleep on the couch tonight so maybe he wouldn’t disturb her.

Random Tags (gonna try to do an updated tag list soon... maybe.. hopefully)

@megansescape @madamelibrarian @chelsea072498 @jayankles @feelmyroarrrr @docharleythegeekqueen @crowleysdemonknight @motleymoose @sumara62 @mrstheorossix3 @evansrogerskitten @waywardjoy  @dwaynii @jensen-jarpad  @deathtonormalcy56 @supernatural-jackles @ruprecht0420 @charliebradbury1104 @relmi-llorrac @wonderange @sandlee44 @tom-is-in-my-tardis @kmb99t @summer-binging-spn @posiemax @ohmychuckitssamanddean @thedevilinthedetails @bohowitch @tmccarney @dragon-tail @suli155 @mrsbatesmotel53 @petrovadixon @thewalkingmombie @mogaruke @spontaneousam @uniquewerewolfsuit @firstlady36 @goldenolaf25 @lunarsaturn88 @babypieandwhiskey @impalaimagining @sis-tafics @chaos-and-the-calm67 @inmysparetime0 @idreamofhazel @nichelle-my-belle  @firstlady36  @bohowitch @whispersandwhiskerburn  @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @ilostmyshoe-79 @roxy-davenport @mrsbatesmotel53 @plaidstiel-wormstache @spn-hetalian-from-Hogwarts  @carribear31  @captainemwinchester @watercolor31 @sea040561 @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel  @impalaplots @faegal04 @missjenniferb @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @emoryhemsworth  @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for  @tattooedmomster13 @sardonicpsycho @dwgrl1903  @tankcupcakes @atc74  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @iwantthedean @paintrider13-blog @d-s-winchester @death2thevirgin @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @ellen-reincarnated1967 @just-another-busy-fangirl @waywardjoy @winchesterprincessbride @willowing-love @redlipstickandplaid @mirandaaustin93 @kiranagoya 

[lyricalt]

2017 fic round up + annual fic meme

It’s that time again, folks. Let’s see the damage.

THE LIST

*drabble/stuff under 1k words +wip

Boku No Hero Academia

Tell - inatodo

Destiny

hardcase* - implied andal brask/cayde-6

a code of you - original character: sol-6

Gamble* - andal brask/Cayde-6

Integrate

got a feel for you* - post-canon seep - pre-canon

Overwatch

R76

feel something*

21

Fourth Date Stuff

Prompt: cut*

punchline

GEN / MISC.

a priori - time travel, Reaper&Gabriel Reyes

gift for gift - gen - Reaper, Widowmaker, Ana Amari, Jack Morrison (mentioned)

all his cards you want to touch - Jesse McCree (Vigilante)/Jesse McCree (Riverboat)

cross your heart and hope - Destiny AU: has mcgenji, implied r76. Too lazy to link to individual pieces on ao3, so I only linked the ones only on tumblr.

Showteam+

Trigger happy

of all just fools - Destiny 2 AU

MCGENJI

not far from home vantage make you sway Prompt: rainy day* Prompt: surprise* must be love cut* devil gave me a crooked start down and doubt - (background implied r76) on your mark+ - AU where genji is a motorcycle and mccree is a mechanic. serial never had much faith (in love or miracles)* Carry case of six wake up calls: 1, 2, 3 Beach drabbles: 1, 2, 3 like you would to a point, to your knees damned if you do - incubus mccree/oni genji sun steel / soul intersect count to three triple threat+ Prompt: kiss on the back of the hand* 

Total number of completed stories: 33, excluding drabbles and some prompts. 

Total word count: AO3 stats say around 56,500. I’ll ballpark it 60,000.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? 

 I wrote more words and more fic this year, but a bunch of it were very short stories! Shorter than my usual, I think. I am also very in love with the Destiny AU so I think that had a lot to do with my high word count. I also wrote a lot on the side I never posted, ahaha. I think I was very distracted this year by too many fandoms/ideas. Ah well.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? 

Nah. I’m predictable. I’m still side-eyeing the genji-as-a-motorcycle AU though. I did that?

What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? 

 CARRY. It was Carry. I loved writing that stupid fic. It was so dumb but I feel so vindictive and about it because I wrote it to have fun and also to express some exasperation about a couple of mcgnj tropes I felt were kinda not-my-thing. BUT!! it makes me happy that a lot of other people enjoyed it too and also @vfordii drew THIS.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? 

 I don’t feel like I took any huge risks. I am pretty comfortable with the subject matter I write (--though I think it’s more of a matter of motivation and sticking to it). I, uh, did write some bottom/sub mccree which is somehow not all that popular within the mcgenji fandom and let me tell you this was hugely a case of “if no one will write it then I will but I will complain about it for the entire time”. I wouldn’t consider it a risk though, but I did learn a bit about how to comfortably write dirty talk without needing it to be explicitly written. I don’t think it shows up a lot in my current fics but I’ve been taking note of what sounds right to me vs how much I want to write, if that makes sense.

Also for the record all my mcgnj fic is implied sexual dynamic sub/bottom mccree, like, in the case it ever happens. (I’m kidding. Or am I. I am. (Not really.) No, I’m dead serious.)

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year? 

 Finish the damn fics I start, why don’t I!!!!! (This is a constant goal.)

I do want to write some fandom stories for original characters. I also want to write more explicit fic without shaming myself out of it. What are the nastywords all the hip young adults are using nowadays? I don’t know and I get conflicting reports, but by god I will try to learn.

My best story of this year 

Hardcase, which is admittedly a small drabble but I think.. it holds very well under Destiny 2, despite my frustration with how Cayde is portrayed in comparison to the Destiny 1. I’ve always had this specific opinion about Cayde and his mysterious (and not so mysterious) agendas. Dude definitely has a hero complex and this fic sorta toes into it. Plus, I like any Cayde angst related to Andal.

I feel like, out of all my fics this felt the most complete, and one that I was most satisfied with what I wanted to convey with a limited amount of words. I’m aware that I’m not… really made for longer stories, so I guess… I like to play to my strengths? And this was it.

My most popular story 

 According to AO3 hits and kudos, it was make you sway, another mcgenji fic that started with the same motivation as carry. I think.. it’s obvious… that I, uh, like writing a specific brand of Horny McCree, in that he’s not so much embarrassed by his attraction to Genji but just slightly exasperated by it (and his timing). And, haha, also Genji not being 100% on top of his libido is a nice change of pace too. I remember having fun with this!!

Story of mine most under-appreciated, in my opinion

feel something is one I’m super fond of. It’s very short, but I feel like it’s my best r76 fic in terms of the relationship I want to portray, especially post-Overwatch. I like the way I wrote it; in my opinion it was very to-the-point, and doesn’t have the happy ending they don’t quite deserve (yet) but in my mind it’s still a very positive fic without being too idealistic? Not that either way is bad, it was just something different for me, personally.

Most fun story to write

devil gave me a crooked start was a fic I pulled right outta my ass but wrote it all in one sitting after I came up with a couple of lines of dialogue; “So I’m stuck in the future,” “Would you like to know the future you?”, etc etc. It helped that Blizzard had just released McCree’s Blackwatch skin (WITH THE BLACK LEATHER CHAPS!!!!) and while I wasn’t comfortable about Blackwatch Genji having any sort of romantic relationship with Blackwatch McCree, I was sure as heck willing for Present-Day!Genji having some good nasty fun with a younger McCree.

Also I had a stupid amount of fun writing triple threat: genji/genji/genji, and I’m now just seeing a pattern that I enjoy writing characters being humorously turned on and having fun getting their rocks off, so there’s that. What a revelation.

Most Sexy Story 

God im sorry but I wrote a mcgenji week drabble about blackwatch genji and mccree beating the shit out of each other and it’s the opposite of romantic and definitely not meant to BE romantic, but fighting can be sexy without being horny, right?? RIGHT???

Story with the single sexiest moment 

to a point, to your knees.  

It takes a huge effort for McCree to sit still after that, spine tingling and heat crawling over his body. The switchblade knife in Genji’s hand spins once in a little flourish, drawing McCree’s gaze to it. 

 His attention caught, Genji places the blade at his thumb and forefinger. He slides the knife between them once to no effect, then another time. McCree can hear the grating metal against each other and then the hiss of steam, knife edge still wet with spit from when McCree had held it on his tongue. 

 “Shall we see how sharp your mouth is now?” Genji asks, running the knife through his fingers once last time.

Genji sharpening McCree’s knife with his fingers and McCree getting hot (literally, metaphorically) and bothered by it is a personal achievement. For me or McCree, that’s up for debate.

Though I have to admit I’m absolutely still pissed about not titling the fic “cut to the feeling” instead because that’s a far better name for a knife kink fic an also my third favorite carly rae jepsen song.

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story 

 I don’t think anyone was surprised about even my most wildest fic. I think a friend of mine was initially disappointed that the knife kink fic was tagged for “mild blood” instead of straight up bloodplay. I’m sorry.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters

I never quite like this question because I always have a good idea of how I want to portray a character in fic since most of my fics tend to lean on the introspective side of things. down and doubt is a very McCree-centered fic that deals with Gabriel, as well as Genji in relation to Gabriel. I wanted to show a lot of things about how McCree and Genji fight together, and what each of them thinks about the whole Gabriel Reyes = Reaper thing. I didn’t hit all the points, and I unfortunately had to scrub a scene off that I definitely want to rework in another fic, but I think I had the basics… present in the fic. I guess what did surprise me was touching on Soldier: 76, though the dynamics between him and McCree is another thing I want to write about for a later fic.

Hardest story to write 

  Intersect , mostly because the later half was such a visual story I had wanted to tell in a form that wasn’t all writing. I think It would have done better as a comic but what can u do? I still very much like the first half, which I had rattling in my head for the last year and a half, really.

I was aiming to write about McCree having hang-ups about Genji, and how he views himself—a washed out mercenary with no clear goals, in comparison to Genji, who’s off in a better headspace than him but still interested in McCree anyway. And it’s not so much a reunion fic I wanted to show but a story where it’s just ok to try and reacquaint yourselves with someone who might be a new person to you. I think. I very much did not want it to be a reunion fic.

Most disappointing 

 Intersect!!!!!!!! It was so jumpy!!!! I had a lot of expectations for it!!!! I wanted it to be so much!!!! In the end I just gave up trying to make the words all fit and banged out the rest of the story and let it go. I’m still upset it didn’t come out the way I wanted it but I think it was better to just post the damn thing rather than let it rot in my drive forever. I felt better for posting it but I don’t think I can reread it anytime soon.

Easiest story to write 

 I lot of fics that fall into this category were the drabbles like Wake Up Calls. I really like writing about mundane moments and little glimpses of a developing relationship, especially for mcgenji, because my headcanon of them consists of a bunch of little moments that somehow build up into a rolling romance that sneaks up on both of them. I think it’s why I have such a hard time writing one long cohesive fic about them. There just isn’t a Big Ah-Ha Moment for them to me? I guess? I guess. I’m rambling!!

Biggest surprise 

 That I continued the mcgenji motorcycle AU, honestly. I love it to pieces and it’s fun but god do I think it’s such a chore writing the build up leading to the parts I WANT to write in the first place!!!!!

Most unintentionally telling story 

  gift for gift started out as a very Gabriel Reyes-centric story but somehow I got passionate about Widowmaker and so it’s also very much about her as well and how she functions within her lack of autonomy. I wanted to explore Gabriel’s motivations/drive to push forward without mentioning just what, exactly, he was going for, which was surprisingly very easy.

Story I’d like to revise

Intersect, not so much revising it but revisiting some of the themes and concepts, especially about McCree. I’ve talked enough about this fic. Anyway.

Story I didn’t write but will at some point, I swear 

 Well. It’s more of a WIP at this stage but I want to write my epic 100k, 50 chaptered Guardian/Fallen romance fic for Destiny but we’ll see how that goes? Mostly I’m waiting on Bungie because I’m so dry on Bungie lore and I have no idea what the House of Dusk is up to and that’s kinda important to my story—which is, not really at all, but I would LIKE to make sure.

Anyway, that’s a wrap for my 2017 fics. Thanks for reading and all the encouragement! I hope to write more entertaining stories for 2018!! :’)

[jonathantaylorthomas]

1. What the new album’s overall sound will be.

Based off the four tracks fans have to listen to right now, it’s not super clear what sonic direction Reputation is heading in. The sparkling “Gorgeous” is the first track that seems properly tailored to radio, but Swift saw massive success with the bass-heavy “Look What You Made Me Do,” which interpolated the Right Said Fred classic “I’m Too Sexy.” Are fans going to be treated to any great emotional ballads, like “Wildest Dreams” Grammy-Museum perfection and Red-era tear-jerker “All Too Well,” or just see Swift drift further towards different new pop directions?

2. Whether or not Swift actually spent time running through the Six with Drake, or getting back to country routes with Kesha in Nashville.

While it may only exist as tabloid-type buzz, there’s much to be said about the rumored collaborations that may appear in the still unreleased tracks on Reputation. Swift was spotted partying with Drake last year, and there’s definitely verified Instagram evidence. Tabloids were quick to report various sources claiming the two had been making music in the studio together, amongst other boring rumors that the two had dated.

At the same time that Swift was reportedly recording for several months in Nashville, Kesha had posted to Instagram about a secret collaboration. Though now we know that Kesha’s Rainbow album did feature some huge names that could have been the subject of the post, the verdict is still out on whether Taylor – who the singer/songwriter said helped donate funds towards her legal expenses, according to Rolling Stone – was the true hidden collaborator, until we see the new album on Nov. 10.

3. Who Swift currently has bad blood with.

It’s easy to guess who the drama could be about – she and Kim Kardashian have definitely not been on the best terms, but the Kanye feud seems too old news. Will Swift rehash the drama that seems to have fizzled out between her and Katy Perry in a song? Will we find out about a whole new feud that somehow went just as under the radar as her album plans? Maybe. Most likely, big media publications that have thrown sexist critiques at her throughout the years will be the focus of her (well-deserved) wrath, as the cover art of her album enlists the typography styles of the New York Times and other legacy newspapers.

4. The state of Taylor’s #squad.

“Bad Blood” but her pals front and center, but there’s not much to be said for explicit definitions of who Swift’s besties are these days. Is Billboard’s Woman of the Year Selena Gomez on the outs? Fans pointed out that in the “Look What You Made Me Do” video, Swift’s customized t-shirt at the end is covered with her BFFs names, and Karlie Kloss can’t be spotted anywhere on the garment. More tracks should give fans better insight into Swift’s inner circle.

5. What themes will be addressed.

Non-fans were quick to complain that the set’s first single, “Look What You Made Me Do” was far too self-referential, as if to deny accountability for her own actions. In reality, it was a fun pop song, and now the most recent track to drop, “Call It What You Want” has thrown the recurring theme of The Old Taylor’s demise completely out the window. The newest track seems perfectly on-brand for Swift, and echoes her older stuff a bit more in content, but with a new twist on the sound. Maybe the bad-reputation schtick will lessen with the addition of a few more heartfelt songs next Friday.

6. What “Timeless” really is.

Immediately after the social media blackout, a website with the URL www.timeless.com appeared, only listing the words “Timeless Coming Soon.” Fans noticed previously that a song titled “Timeless” was registered to Swift with ASCAP, but the credits have since been removed and the site has not changed.

7. What the total Easter egg count will be.

Reputation is surely much more reference-heavy than previous albums, but will this trend also continue through the rest of the album? There are hidden messages throughout “Look What You Made Me Do” - especially in the video, where she nods to her beef with Perry and her exes in costume choice. There’s even over-the-top fan speculation over whether or not the bathtub full of jewels was a harsh jab at Kim K’s robbery woes, but some of these were probably nowhere near as deep as haters may have suggested.

8. How far she’ll go for a bigger and better music video.

Production has risen to extremes with Swift’s latest music videos, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll be coming back down any time soon. It’d be interesting to see what will happen with the rest of the songs – how could she ever top a mountain of her past selves? An army of her past selves? What’s next?

[margarethelstone]

Dragonfly ‘A’

When your friend writes you some dumb Hiccstrid to make you shut up, but instead of doing this, you decide to turn it into an actual fic.

Based on this conversation with @wilderwestqueen​

Can be found on fanfiction.net as well

“Hiccup”, Astrid said, looking soulfully in his eyes. “I am eternally, utterly and hopelessly in love with you. Let’s wed on the shores of the Edge and fly off into the sunset together, shooting plasma blasts through the wind, all whilst conceiving twelve beautiful children named after every dragon we’ve met on this island.”

“Astrid,” Hiccup said, tears filling his eyes as he grabbed a hold of Astrid’s hands. “I thought you’d never ask. Quick, clasp my chest. Let’s ride Toothless into the night sky and make passionate love in mid-air whilst wearing our dragon fly suits!”

Honestly, she didn’t even know she could raise her eyebrows that high.

“This is insane,” she stated, eyeing him in disbelief. “You are insane.”

The man in front of her rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop smiling nevertheless.

“Hiccup, I am not wearing this.”

“Just give it a try, will you?” he answered her, the excitement still resonating in his voice, as if he hadn’t heard what she’d just said. “It won’t bite, you know.”

“Oh, yes it will. And even if it doesn’t, I’m sure it will be the cause of my misery, injury, or death itself in some other way. Look, I love you, but this is way too much to expect from me.”

“Astrid, just -”

“I’m not wearing the Thor damned flight suit!”

With that, silence fell on the room. Admittedly, Hiccup did open his mouth, but clearly, he wasn’t able to come up with any sensible answer, so he closed it soon enough. He didn’t retreat immediately, but responding to Astrid’s words proved to be more difficult than ever, and thus, after a few moments of frowning and chewing his lower lip, he gave up, and sighed.

“Fine,” he muttered under his breath. “Forget it. Apparently I can’t even make a gift for my betrothed without making a total fool of myself.”

Berk’s blonde Shield Maiden only shook her head, seeing the grumpy expression on her beloved Viking’s face.

Good gods, he was hopeless.

When he told her that morning that he wanted to talk to her, she didn’t have the slightest idea of what it might be about, but then again, she didn’t really care that much. Fairly speaking, she expected him to propose another round of let’s-map-the-entire-world-together-before-my-Dad-decides-to-make-me-Chief thing rather than anything else, however, she was quite as ready to do everything he wanted her to.

Except this.

In her wildest dreams and nightmares, she certainly did not suppose that Hiccup Haddock, the Pride of Berk, her personal husband-to-be would drag her to his workshop, and gift her with nothing else, but her own, brand new Dragonfly ‘A’.

Yes, that was the name.

“Hiccup, listen to me,” she said, trying to sound softly, taking a few steps towards the flustered man. “You know how… sceptical I’ve always been about the whole Dragon Fly idea. It’s frustrating enough to see you using it, provoking some accident to happen every time you jump off of Toothless. What on Earth made you think I would agree to use one, too?”

“I figured that maybe if you ever tried it yourself, you might be more understanding for me and my enthusiasm for it,” he mumbled, still avoiding her gaze.

Astrid crossed her arms on her chest. “Well, I’m not.”

Hiccup finally glanced at her, only to give her the most offended glance he could offer – and yet, his beautiful fiancée didn’t even stir.

“I can see that.”

He looked away as soon as he’d voiced the words, clasping the suit in question in his hands. The blonde warrior couldn’t miss the pain that reflected in his features as he turned his head away, slouching as he did; but even considering the fact that she really didn’t want to see him like that, she still wouldn’t be able to accept his unusual present.

Sighing, Astrid stepped towards the Rider, stopping right before him. She tilted her head, trying to meet his gaze, but it was of no use; Hiccup simply wouldn’t look at her now, no matter how hard she had tried.

“Can you please tell me what it’s really about?” she asked gently. “Why would you want me to use that suit all of the sudden? It’s your thing.”

“I wanted you to fly with me,” came a muffled answer, before Hiccup mustered to look her in the eyes again, and explain himself more openly. “I thought that, well, maybe it would be a nice change. That instead of riding dragons together, we could try to do that on our own. Well, kind of. Anyway, that’s it. You can laugh now.”

The girl stared at him for a while, her eyes wide in shock. How was she supposed to answer something like that? Flying? Together? Was that the romanticism he wanted to put into life now?

She knew that at this specific moment, she should stay calm at all cost – but she couldn’t.

No longer bothering, Astrid burst into the most sonorous laughter, completely taking Hiccup aback.

“What?!” she stuttered, almost chocking on her own saliva. “Hiccup, this is bad even for you. I mean, what’s next, conceiving our children on the backs of dragons? Or naming them after the ones we’ve met so far?”

Hiccup’s cheeks were blushing madly at this point, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop laughing. She pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it didn’t make much of a difference. Hiccup looked awfully miserable, and she knew it was her fault, but could anyone blame her? Yet, she tried once more to calm down, hoping the Viking would not take offence for too long.

She took a deep breath, then another. One more.

Alright, she was fine now.

“Babe, I’m sorry,” she began, praying to the gods she would not start giggling again. “I really shouldn’t have said that. It’s just -”

“It was calling out to be said, wasn’t it?” he responded harshly. “You’re right, you’re absolutely, positively right. The idea is ridiculous, I don’t know what I was thinking whenI decided to share it with you. Must have been drunk or something.”

“You’re never drunk.”

“Well, something tells me I will be tonight,” he drawled. “Not that you would care. I’m just that weird guy with one leg and ridiculous ideas. Why don’t you just turn on your heel, and tell me you don’t want to have anything to do with me?”

“Good Thor, Hiccup, you can be such a child sometimes,” she moaned mockingly. The word child brought the fresh memories to the man’s mind, and now he was blushing again in result. Astrid laughed shortly, and cupping his face in her hands, she made him turn in her direction. “Listen, Dragon Boy. I am eternally, utterly and hopelessly in love with you. I want to have everything to do with you. If you asked me to clasp your chest, fly to the Edge, and marry you on its shores right after we land, I would probably say yes, and never regret it. I am ready to die for you or kill for you -” she paused for a moment, watching how the expression on Hiccup’s face changes, feeling him relaxing into her grip “but I refuse to do neither of those looking like some feral crazy Dragon Lady.”

Before Hiccup had a chance to respond, Astrid stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips on his, while her hands moved swiftly, one landing on the man’s chest, the other on the back of his head, dipped in his luxurious auburn hair.

Hiccup, shocked, didn’t respond immediately, blinking in surprise, and wondering what he should do in a situation like this.

He didn’t want to kiss her.

He really didn’t want to kiss her.

Gods, he always wanted to kiss her.

Restraining himself no longer, he leaned in, embracing Astrid’s waist with both arms, holding her as close as he found possible. She smiled under his lips.

She always did.

When they broke apart, he saw a question in her eyes, but he only shook his head, smiling fondly at her. Her own grin widened significantly, and once again, Hiccup thought that he really couldn’t live without that smile.

He still felt embarrassed by the entire situation, but somehow, he was beginning to accept it. Astrid rejecting his gift was bad. Astrid laughing up the idea behind the gift was absolutely, terribly horrifying.

Yet, the same Astrid expressing her feelings for him so straightforwardly, holding him, accepting him, loving him sort of made it worth the pain.

Astrid snuggled her face into his neck, hugging him tightly.

“I’m really sorry, Hiccup. I shouldn’t have laughed like that, but it seriously wasn’t a good idea.”

“I think I can live with that. I overreacted, too.”

“You know, I don’t mind you wearing that suit yourself, it’s just -”

“It’s not your thing. Yeah, I know.”

He put a small kiss on her hair before the girl raised her head, still not loosening her grip on him.

“Yes. But also… If anything happens to you during those crazy flights, I want to be able to actually rescue you. And I won’t be able to do that if I’ll be falling into the ocean with you.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but chuckle at her words. He gave her another kiss, this time placed on her forehead, and whispered, “You’re quite right about that, M’lady. As you always are.”

“I’m glad to hear you say something reasonable for once,” she teased him back, also whispering, and then raised her brows in anticipation. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well,” Hiccup mused out loud. “Since you can’t appreciate the present I gave you, we must think of something else. Now, as much as I love the idea of marrying you at the Edge’s shore, I’m pretty sure Dad would kill me if I did, and I’d like to be present on my honeymoon. So, that’s out. But… How about a moonlit flight instead?”

“With how many dragons included?”

“I thought about one, honestly. You know, like for the first time.”

“Sentimental again.”

“Is that bad?”

“No.”

“Great,” he glanced at her mischievously. “Ready to grab my chest?”

[tumbleweedshorts]

The Job

Inspiration: A friend of mine pointed me to this writing prompt on Reddit, and I figured I'd take up the challenge:

The more dangerous a job is, the more it pays. You just took a job offer to stand in an empty room and do nothing for $100k an hour.

I'm feeling apprehensive as I enter the room. Apart from the door I just came through, there is one other door on the opposite wall... A massive one. I'm starting to regret this already. I was offered this mission, with a promise of 100 grand an hour for the amount of time I can stand being in this room. When you realize that the mean salary in my country is only $2 an hour, this is a huge increase.

There's a chair in the room. Warily, I make my way toward it. Nothing happens. I feel around the chair for any danger. Nothing obvious. Delicately, carefully, I sit down on it. Nothing happens. I'm nervous. My eyes keep darting in all directions, sure that something nasty will pop out at me from the tiled walls, ceiling or floor.

I guess this is what they call courage: when you know it's dangerous but you do it anyway. Some would call it plain old stupid. But in my position, did I have a choice? I'm unemployed, and I'm supporting my ailing mother and grandmother, my disabled wife and my five children. This offer was too good to pass up.

OK, according to my watch, it's now been five minutes and nothing has yet happened to me. I'm starting to feel both more relaxed and more consciously aware that a surprise might pop up at any time. I'm torn between the certainty that this whole affair was a bluff and the constant fear of something, anything, popping out at me.

I try to relax and think about other things. What would I do with a hundred grand? Most of my friends would picture buying a fancy car or a nice house. Me, I don't know... I've never even held a whole hundred dollars in my hand at a time. I imagine I would be afraid of that kind of money. Afraid of losing it. Afraid of how it might affect me. Afraid of becoming greedy and just wanting more.

A small creak startles me and I jump up out of the chair, looking desperately around me for any sign of what caused it. My heart is racing and I'm sweating like mad. Finding nothing, I sit back down to try to relax again. As I sit down, I hear the chair creak. Oh, that's all it was.

So what would I do with all that money? I don't even know. What is most important to me? I know that, of course. My family. My mother and grandmother and wife need medical care, and none of them can work. My five kids, all younger than 10, are barely of school age. I can't even afford to send them to school, so I've been teaching them at home.

I know: I'll make sure they go to school. Not an expensive school, just enough to ensure some quality education. Maybe that way they can progress to college, which I never managed to enter, and break the cycle of poverty this family has been caught in for decades. all I have to do is last an hour in this room for that. And if I last longer, it's even better.

I look at my watch again: it's been 8 minutes. My nerves are frayed, I'm freaked out, always worrying what's about to attack me... I'm not sure how much longer I can stand it. Suddenly a memory pops up in my mind. My daughter, 4-year-old Davina, asking me all about the stars and the sky, and saying when she grows up she wants to go to the moon and the stars.

No, I really can't give up now. I can't dash her hopes. Just as I can't dash 6-year-old Joey's hopes of being a doctor or 9-year-old Danny's ambition to be a scientist. And the 3-year-old twins, Sara and Laura, who are already teaching themselves how to read... No. I couldn't give up now. I probably would never again get another such opportunity in my life.

Determined to stick it out, I sit there, still scared stiff. Every time I start to relax, coaxing a little confidence back into my mind, a little something pops up to get me back on edge. It's exhausting. I really don't know how much longer I'll be able to put up with it. I check my watch: fifteen minutes.

They told me that I'll be paid according to how long I stay in the room before I call it quits. Doing the math in my mind, that's $1,666 a minute. I've already made $25,000. and they did say that if anything happens to me the money will still go to my family.

But another question comes into my mind... Is it really worth it? Is it worth it to wait longer and get more money if I'm not going to be there to enjoy it or see the results? Half of my mind tells me to give up and stop now. But the other half is speaking louder. Think of the kids. Think of Jane. Think of Mom and Grandma.

Somehow I decide I shouldn't just stay in the chair the whole time. I have to do something. Getting up, I decide to explore the room to try and figure out the dangers or threats, and maybe, just maybe, be able to counter them. A reckless survival instinct overtakes me.

Feeling around the walls, I examine every tile and the caulk between them, trying to find out if one of them could open up and send something nasty my way. I feel the tiles, press them, try to slide them. To no avail. I'm wary of going near the doors.

I then look at the joints between the walls. More plain old caulk. I check out the floor: a wood parquet floor, impeccable, brand-new, smooth as glass. Not a single loose board. The ceiling is too high for me to reach, but it's also tiled, and from where I'm standing I can see it's just like the walls.

I become ever more convinced that anything dangerous will come in through one of the doors, probably the big one. I start walking toward it. But just as I'm walking something else happens: the lights go out.

I freeze in place, unsure what to do. There are no windows, no other lights. I'm in complete, utter, pitch-black darkness. I've always been pretty proud to say I'm not afraid of the dark, but suddenly in this situation I fully realize what my kids mean when they say they are.

I check my watch. The glow-in-the-dark hands tell me I've been in there 32 minutes. I start feeling despondent, and the desire to call it quits and get out gets stronger and stronger. I've already made over 50 grand. Surely that's enough already!

Suddenly I realize I'm sitting on the floor, curled into a ball. My fear must have really gotten the better of me... But somehow it feels more comfortable that way, and less dangerous.

After several minutes of this I regain some energy, but somehow I've lost my patience and my cool and my rationality. I start to scream at the room to send me something, anything, to kill me already, to not just leave me there to wait. I jump to my feet and run at the walls, trying to push them away.

Suddenly the lights come back on. That startles me into silence, and momentarily blinds me. When my eyes have had time to adjust, I look around again. Nothing has changed. Wait... something has changed. It somehow feels like the room has gotten smaller. It's feeling more oppressive and tighter. My chest is starting to feel tighter and my breathing more constricted.

Then I spot the big door again. It's still right there in the middle of the wall. Maybe the room isn't shrinking after all. I go back around to check the joints. Still intact. I count the tiles, just for something to do. Then I count them again. Same number.

I go back to the chair and sit down. I'm exhausted. I really want to just lie down and sleep, but I still don't know what could jump out at me at any time. I check the time. Forty-five minutes. Seventy-five grand. Then a nagging doubt comes into my mind. What if this were all a trick? Are they really going to let me out when I ask them? Will they really pay me for this? Are they just waiting to attack me the moment I say I want out?

Suddenly I break down. I fall to the floor, in a kneeling position, like a Muslim praying, and burst into tears. Tears of sorrow, of anger, of regret, but mostly of fear. Only this time, I realize, I'm not so much afraid of the room any more. I'm afraid of the people who got me in here. What is it they really want? To make me talk? What do I know that they could possibly find useful? To kill me? Why? Revenge? What have I done to earn that?

I stay there, still crying, for a while. The fears mount in my head, swirling and intensifying and piling up until I can't stand it any more. I throw my head back and scream. A long, loud, terrified scream. I can't take this any more. I have to get out of here, if it's the last thing I do. I get up and run to the door, the same one I came in through. I bang on it repeatedly and scream at them to let me out.

After what feels like an eternity, the door pulls away from me and I fall to the floor. I'm out of here. And yet it doesn't feel like it. Getting up, I shy away when they come toward me. One of them grabs my shoulders and I fight back, instinctively. But he's stronger, much stronger than I am and manages to wrestle me into a chair.

From the chair I can see out the window. The park, the grass, the flowers, the birds, the sunlight... Slowly, very slowly, I regain my senses. They're standing all around me. All wearing what looks like lab coats. Then the tall one, the one who made the offer in the first place, pulls a chair toward me, sits on it and starts to speak, really calmly.

"It's OK. You've done great. You stayed in there seventy-two minutes. Congratulations, you've lasted longer than any of the other subjects. We will be wiring $120,000 to your account."

The others start clapping. It takes a while for me to register what is happening. I succeeded. I survived. I've won a hundred and twenty thousand dollars. Far from feeling excited, however, I'm utterly exhausted.

"Really? Thank you" I manage weakly.

The tall one is speaking again, still in his calm soothing voice.

"You see, there was no danger in being inside that room. We had to make you believe it for the experiment to work. We're making tests on fear and its effects on behavior. You have helped us beyond our wildest expectations. The money is well deserved."

"Oh. That's... good, isn't it?" I answer, too tired to think.

"Very good. Now if you'll just sign this form here, you'll be able to go home to your family."

Weakly, I manage to sign the form.

Holding his hand out toward me, the tall one says again, "Thank you very much. And best of luck to you and your family!"

I shake his hand, starting to realize the implications. I’ve succeeded. I’ve made six figures in just over an hour. I’m going to be able to help my family.

It isn’t until I’m back out in the street that the full awareness of what I’ve just done hits me. Then, all exhaustion gone, I hurry back home to tell my family the news.